#anyway. gonna do some homework and then take some refuge in fanfiction. where there are plenty of cookie-cutter plots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serialreblogger · 3 years

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ok but i think the thing that bugs me most about disney’s same-face syndrome is that it’s NOT because the artists are lazy. like

the sheer amount of face and body design in this screenshot from Tangled? INCREDIBLE. i am in AWE. it’s so fun to look at, i want to know the stories of each of these people because i believe! they are actual! people!! the amount of creativity in this one screenshot is downright contagious!

and it’s the same with Frozen, like

the design style of these people is a bit different from Tangled, and I’m not sure if that’s meant to denote a different geographical area or if it’s just a matter of different artists being involved, but still: you can clearly see the variety of faces in these shots. i’d even say there’s MORE variation in background female characters than male ones.

which means that THIS

is NOT a symptom of incompetence. and it’s not a sign of lazy design work. it’s a CHOICE.

and that shouldn’t be a surprise! that’s what disney DOES, these days; it finds a niche that makes some cash and pumps it until it runs dry. it owns the entertainment industry. it can afford to be tasteless and formulaic. it doesn’t HAVE any competitors to keep it honest.

but it drives me absolutely MAD to realize that the thing disney sees as a primary moneymaking asset, enough to impose THIS level of sameness for as long as they can get away with it, is the appearance of its female leads. It’s the face of their main character.

Because it works. This design is nonthreatening, attractive, and perfectly appealing to all audiences, children and adults alike. It’s white, and pretty, and thin, and young. it’s what we’re used to looking at, even as it catches the eye.

It’s a perfect face.

It’s a face that sells tickets, and a figure that sells toys.

They could create new characters with their own faces, but why would they? This face, this character, this body makes them money. They find actresses for live-action remakes that match the mold of thin-sweet-pretty as closely as they can, and filter out the rest.

They’ve bought out their competitors, and it’s not like they’re accountable to their audiences. There’s nowhere to go but Disney, these days.

They’ve found something low-effort and high-profit, and there’s nothing anyone can do that will make them let it go.

Why would they ever change this perfect face?

#i! need! to! be! doing! homework!#and instead i'm over here musing on the relative dearth of female characters in tangled #like the lack of poc could maybe be justified on a watsonian level (tho not a doylian one. do better disney) by like 'fantasy travel laws'#or whatever #but the lack of women in the rough-and-tumble pub and the circles of both lawkeeping and lawbreaking #while the village festival scenes are full of both men and women - perhaps even primarily centring women #it says a lot. about what the creators consider the 'default.' the people it does and does not occur to them to include #and then trailing off into samefacesyndrome gnarring because like! THOSE ARE SUCH INTERESTING FACES!!#i would LOVE to watch a movie about a snow princess with the slightly-hollow cheeks and pear-shaped fat distribution of her subjects #you CAN DRAW people that look normal!! don't lie to me!! it's RIGHT THERE this is not a barbie movie where every man is nalu #this is DELIBERATE #and i am FRUSTRATED. because the only logical conclusion is also the most obvious one #money #isn't it always the motive with disney these days?#but i wish... i wish artists weren't being USED like this. there is SO MUCH ART in these movies #and it's SUPPRESSED. it's forced to take a backseat in the name of cookie-cutter profit plots and pretty little faces #anyway. gonna do some homework and then take some refuge in fanfiction. where there are plenty of cookie-cutter plots #but they're created and repeated like permutations of a musical theme rather than a factory line. they're made for excess of love #not from its lack #there's a difference. there's a difference #art #disney #disney hate post #linden's originals

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juyeoniemyhoney · 4 years

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can this morning never end

Namjoon is the most beautiful human being to ever walk the earth. It is natural that you have a crush on him. You expect that eventually, your feelings will die out but then, you find yourself squealing uncontrollably outside of the library that you and Namjoon had agreed to meet at for your pair-work assignment. You have always watched Namjoon from afar. It surprises you when you find out that Namjoon has been observing you too. Well, there’s a first for everything.

-pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

-genre: FLUFF, a lil bit of angst, high school/secondary school au (where i live high school is called secondary school;-;)

-warnings: vulgarities, pretty self-depreciating writing if im gonna be honest so be weary, Namjoon is a little bit of a simp for oc in this one, the ending is lowkey shit rip im sorry

-word count: 3208 words

-A/N: hi hi im back, this time with a Namjoon fic. i havent been writing a lot because im so preoccupied with my exams. in all honesty, i shouldnt be writing at all but i have absolutely no sense of self control, so i wrote this. it’s not my best but i really like how joon’s so soft in this so i decided to post it anyway. don’t be afraid to tell me how you liked (or didnt like) this imagine! and requests are open! hope you enjoy this one:)

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As you approach the entrance of the library, your heart starts beating a mile a minute.

You stall outside the automatic sliding doors, mind racing with a million scenarios. You freak out a little and silently squeal, earning you disapproving frowns and judging eyes from passers-by. But you don't care. You've waited a whole week for today.

A week ago, during English class, you were busy writing instead of paying attention, as usual, when your teacher had given the class the assignment to write a scenario, of any genre but it had to contain the writer's techniques she had taught in class. And she made the whole class pair up. You, too lost in the world of fanfiction, had not been listening and frankly, you didn't really care, passing her words off as just more homework.

The next thing you knew, Kim Namjoon had turned around in his chair, calling your name in that deep, gravelly voice. At the sound of his voice, your head immediately shot up, eyes wide in surprise.

"Do you want to partner up?" he had asked, lips slinging into an easy grin, eyes curling up and that goddamned dimple making itself made known on his left cheek. He patiently waited for your answer, eyes periodically glancing down to your desk that was in disarray, pieces of paper containing your words messily covering every corner of your desk. You pray that he didn't catch a peep of your (admittedly) cringeworthy fanfic as you tried to subtly gather the papers before he could read too much.

"Um, partner up for what?" you questioned, confused, head tilting ever so slightly to the right in question, brows furrowed in misunderstanding. He mirrored your actions and your heart had unwontedly skipped a beat. A beat of silence passed, "For the assignment?"

Before you could ask what assignment?, your teacher had interrupted your conversation with a satisfied clap and a smile. "Alright, I assume you have all found your partners. I'll give you time to work on your assignment right now. Remember that planning is the most important stage of writing. Do approach me if you have any questions."

Namjoon had turned back to you with a wry grin that looked a tad bit awkward, saying, "Well, I guess we're partners now."

Which is how you find yourself freaking the fuck out in front of a library on a Saturday morning, mind racing with different, absurd scenarios and outcomes of this meeting. You decide to take another minute to compose yourself.

You wouldn't say that you like Namjoon per se. You just think he is the most handsome man to walk on this godforsaken planet. But seriously, that man is far too beautiful to be real. From the first time you met him til now, you have no doubt that that man is a celestial being, gifted to the world from the gods, purely to cleanse the eyes of us, mere mortals. To make matters worse, he is smart too; of a wisdom thousands of years beyond his age. You still can't believe you've had the god-given opportunity to meet someone like him.

Okay so, maybe you kind of like him a lot, more than you let on, but you're not really sure if you like him because he's Namjoon or if it's because you are lovelorn, touch deprived, or both.

You reckon it has taken more than a minute to compose yourself because by the time you snap out of your daze, you are five minutes late when you had actually arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed timing. You sigh and finally walk through the doors that welcome you into the cooling library, cold blasts from the air conditioning cooling down the fierce blush that had taken refuge on your cheeks.

You immediately proceed to find a seat but Namjoon texts you, telling you that he's already a step ahead of you, having secured a seat in a room with tables on the second floor.

When you reach the second floor, and make your way towards the rooms, you can see Namjoon through the glass walls, sitting down and silently reading a book as he waits for you. The closer you draw to the room, the faster your heart pounds in your chest. The sound is deafening and distracting and you don't even realise how fast you had walked until you are finally knocking on the glass door, sending Namjoon a small smile when he looks up at you.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets, smile widening into a grin so wide that it hides his eyes. Your heart stops but you hide it with a small smile as you settle down your things and yourself opposite him.

"So, what genre did you want to write about," he asks as you take a pen and a piece of paper out from your bag. You freeze when your brain registers his sentence. "The assignment is to write a story?"

Namjoon stares at you wordlessly for a while, speechless that it's been a week and you still don't know what the fucking assignment is. You, however, have no idea that he is thinking about how stupid you are and happily stare back at him, taking in his mono lidded, almond-shaped eyes and the dark brown of his irises. His nose bridge is straight and the tip of his nose is a little flat, like a koala. You have never wanted to boop a nose so bad in your entire life.

"Yeah, that's the assignment," he responds patiently, giving you a gentle smile. You can't help but feel that it seems a little tight and forced, like he is regretting asking you be his partner, and regretting that he didn't have enough time to reconsider. You ignore the feeling of dejection that slowly bubbles up inside of you.

"I thought that it'd be easiest to write romance since you're so well versed in that.". You freeze. Time seems to have stopped and your ears refuse to register the rest of what Namjoon is saying, tuning everything out but your deafening thoughts. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

"You know that I write?" you interrupt Namjoon. He stops and fixes you a look of confusion, like it is so obvious that you write. It's not that you've been trying to keep it a secret. The thing is, for most of your stories, Namjoon is the main male character. In most of your stories, you have described every single part of him in excruciating detail, his eyes and lips especially. When your friends had first read your stories with Namjoon as the male protagonist, they had caught on quickly, almost immediately asking you if you were describing Namjoon because of how well you had described him. A bad feeling washes over you.

"Yeah, you're always scribbling away during English so I got curious and asked a few of your classmates," he responds, flashing you another lopsided smile. If this were any other situation, your heart would have been absolutely eliminated because of that smile but in this situation, all you can think about is if he's read any of your work. Because if he has, you're done for.

"What did my classmates say?" you question hesitantly, still deciding if you want to know his answer.

"Well they said that you've been writing since forever. They also said that a lot of people know that you write. Oh, and they also said that you had some published works so I went to check them out—" Namjoon's voice fades out as he continues to talk.

This is it.

It's the end of your social life. Namjoon is going to tell his loud ass group of friends that you write stalker-esque stories about him and then one of his friends is going to accidentally tell their girlfriend and then the girlfriend is going to spread it across the school and you'll be known as the loser who writes creepy stalker stories about Namjoon—

"It was amazing," you hear Namjoon say in between your mild quarter-life crisis. You pause and look him square in the eye. You want to come off as serious but you falter slightly when Namjoon stares back at you, irises a whirlpool of dark brown and glittering fascination, a swirling vortex that draws you in with a vicious intent of drowning.

"Yes?" Namjoon questions you after a beat of silence passes. You want to ask him if he knows that he is reading about himself but you stop yourself. "You like my stories?" you ask instead, feeling a tad bit shy now that you've realised that Namjoon likes what you write about him.

He lets out a small laugh, "Is it that hard to believe that I like what you write?"

"I was just surprised." He flashes you another wide grin and there it is, those cursed dimples show themselves again, grinning tauntingly at you and your heart commits the highest act of treason when it starts to beat faster. You gulp.

"You shouldn't be surprised. It was really good. I really liked it when you described the male character. It felt like I was looking at him myself. That's why I asked you to be my partner. I'm sure with your talents, we can get a really good mark on this assignment."

Your heart thuds a little faster when Namjoon tells you that his favourite part was reading about how you described him. But it falls to your stomach when he tells you that he picked you solely for your supposed talents. You don't know why, but a part of you had thought that maybe Namjoon wanted to get to know you better, and was using this assignment as an excuse. You thought that it was finally happening, someone you like has finally noticed you. But it looks like you thought wrong.

"Thank you," you say meekly, flashing him a half-hearted smile that you're sure he notices from the way he stiffens. "So, you said that you thought that romance would be a good genre, but what do you want to write about?"

Namjoon is silent for a while, lips pursed in ponder. You wait patiently for his answer.

"Well, I thought that I'd wanted to write romance too," he answers flashing you an awkward smile. The silence that follows is palpable and suddenly, you feel so very exhausted. "Well then, that's settled. Now we just have to think of a situation."

"How about this one?" Namjoon asks immediately after you finish your sentence. He says it rather suddenly and it startles you a little. You can't help but hear a certain extent of desperation in this voice. He wants to get this over with, you tell yourself.

"How do you mean?"

"Kinda like us now," he starts but stops to think about what to say next. You remain silent. "We should just write about us but make it a love story. For example, the two main characters are supposed to do a project together so they meet at a library," he pauses to gesture to the shelves surrounding the both of you.

"Then they start working on the project and they start talking. Then, somehow, the boy confesses to her. And the girl tells him she's always felt the same way. We can come up with how he confesses since I myself haven't come up with that yet," he continues, softening the last part of his sentence into a mumble that you barely hear, but still do. You pause. What the fuck?

"What did you say? I didn't hear you," you ask against your better judgement, curiosity getting the best of you. "Huh? Oh, it was nothing."

A furious blush begins to spread on the apples of Namjoon's cheeks, and for some reason, your body begins to mirror him, heart pumping hot blood to the blood vessels that lay beneath the skin of your cheeks. Namjoon shyly directs his gaze to his lap, dark brown bangs, the colour of his eyes, coming down in luxurious curls and waves to hide his eyes. You can't help but think that you like to see Namjoon like this; soft and shy and vulnerable because he is usually so confident and suave. It feels like he is showing a new side of himself to you, like he is peeling back the layers of masks and personas he has built until he is left raw and natural, allowing you to see everything that he is. The thought of that leaves you feeling winded because it is exactly what you want. And suddenly, you don't feel bashful or shy because of his words. Instead, you are determined, hellbent on making something out of this and you hope with your whole being that it is a relationship.

You are about to say something, to question him, bombard him until he is spilling his feelings in fumbled words and sentences of desperation and want, clawing at you until you too, are raw and vulnerable. But he beats you to it, speaking in a soft, hushed tone, as if you are a stern silence that he is afraid of interrupting.

"I think you're amazing, Y/N. What do you think of me?"

He stares meekly at his lap, too afraid to even spare you a glance. You remain silent, building his desperation like you are some professional flirt. In all honesty, you really just want to tell him you like him too but you're just so scared. The evidence that he at least feels something for you is right in front of you and yet your brain rejects it like a vending machine rejects a bill, walls built far too high and thick that words are no longer enough to convince you. He has to show you. And you think he knows that too.

Namjoon's head shoots up to stare you in the eyes, a new found determination and confidence burning in his eyes. The way the light finds his dark brown irises makes your heart do a million somersaults. They light up and turn into a golden brown you can't help but compare to a sweet, caramel syrup that coats your tongue in golden, sugary gratification. You swallow so hard, you feel the sides of your throat rub together painfully.

"I think you're freaking amazing, Y/N. Every time I look at you, I always want to make myself better. For you. I want to become the best version of myself in hopes that it'll satisfy you and garner your attention. And I really like that you do what makes you happy. I absolutely love it when you write in English because you're always so focused and serious, plus, you make that really cute face when you're concentrating and it always makes my heart beat a little faster and it makes me hate that I sit in front of you because I have to keep finding stupid reasons to turn around just to look at you and I just think you're the most amazing, admirable, lovable person ever," Namjoon lets out. His words are rushed and desperate and you melt like goddamn candle wax.

"I'm— Wow, I'm— thank you, Namjoon. That really means a lot to me," you stutter, not really knowing what to say at first but finding your words soon enough. "Oh, and I feel the same way," you add, somehow missing the main point of your response. It doesn't matter anyway. He knows now. That's all that matters.

"Wait, really?"

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, Namjoon. Is it that hard to believe that I like you too?" you reply, a homage to your previous conversation.

Namjoon smiles a small smile, then it widens, and widens, and widens, until he is flashing you a blinding grin that could outright beat the glare of sunlight. "You said that you like me," he points out, eyes shining.

It is your turn to blush in embarrassment, cheeks feeling hot as you begin to sink into yourself, hair falling from behind your shoulders to hopefully make itself useful as a curtain to shield your red face from Namjoon. Something in Namjoon's chest begins to splinter at the sight. He is so very tempted to pull out his phone and snap a picture of you but he holds himself back at the thought that he is positive he has many more chances to do so. His ribs nearly break in half because of how hard his heart beats.

"It's a good thing that I like you too," he says gently, smile now gentle instead of blinding. "Also, we have a plot now!" he exclaims in excitement as he slides the pen and paper closer to himself, ready to start on your assignment.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"So, we're, are we? You know... Um, dating now?"

Namjoon's eyes widen in horror and he deflates himself, a disappointed frown pulling his eyebrows together at the centre and turning the corners of his lips down. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't ask— I just assumed—" he cuts himself off, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks. Somehow, he still feels nervous even though he knows that you answer is a resounding, "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Namjoon lets out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and it comes out in a relieved sigh. "Thank God because if not our story would have a horrible ending," Namjoon comments, picking the pen back up and clicking it open.

"Let's write that," you cut in before he can say anything else. "Write a sad love story?"

Namjoon is going to tell you no, to completely disapprove of your idea because writing a sad love story is one thing but writing a sad love story that will be handed up to your teacher for her to grade is another thing. But then, he sees your eyes glisten in determination and he dispels his thoughts immediately, folding into himself like a goddamn lawn chair. He can't believe he was just about to say no to you. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Please? I'm better at writing angst. Plus, we have a happy ending and that's all that matters," you press, trying to convince him. You don't have a real reason other than the fact that you write angst better. You also don't really know why you want to write angst right now when you feel as if you could fly. But it doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. Namjoon is your's now.

Namjoon flashes you a dimpled smile, eyes curling up and glittering with mirth and unadulterated belief in you. You can't help but think that you want him to never stop smiling like that, looking at you like you are some sort of celestial being, hailed from the sky solely to bring him every sort of merriment known to mankind and the heavens. The thought of him thinking of you like that scares you, because you are always afraid of not being enough. But Namjoon diminishes all of your worries with a short sentence, manhandling them by the throat and shoving them off a cliff.

"Okay, I believe in you."

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