date a book

My sweet girl,

Your Letter gave me more delight, than any thing in the world but yourself could do; indeed I am almost astonished that any absent one should have that luxurious power over my senses which I feel. Even when I am not thinking of you I receive your influence and a tenderer nature steeling upon me. All my thoughts, my unhappiest days and nights have I find not at all cured me of my love of Beauty, but made it so intense that I am miserable that you are not with me: or rather breathe in that dull sort of patience that cannot be called Life. I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it…

Ever yours, my love!
John Keats.

—  John Keats, To Fanny Brawne, dated July 8th, 1819.

anonymous asked:

for the word ship thing: Connor/Evan birds


(I can’t spell convienetly and my spell check is in Spanish ATM and I can’t figure out how to change it soz)

~ Connor refused to say that Evan and he were dating. Zoe asked him, Jared asked him, his MOTHER asked him, and he didn’t even know how she knew about Evan.
He blamed Zoe.
And they didn’t go out on “dates” or anything. They just hung out. Sometimes at an ice cream place. Sometimes at school. Sometimes they just went outside and looked at the trees. None of these were dates, in Connor’s book. Unfortunately, they seemed to be that way in everyone else’s.
And going birdwatching like Evan had planned with him was most certainly NOT a date. What kind of date would that be? Definitely not a romantic one, that was for sure.
But Connor had never really been one for romance, anyway.
Evan picked him up and was practically jumping in his seat, far more excited than Connor was, but he smiled, nevertheless. Evan drove them to their typical nature reserve, and Evan had so convienently brought binoculars and birdwatching guides, as well as a little baggies of bird seed and some snack for them too.
“Wow,” Connor said in assessment. “You can prepared.
Evan beamed. “Always do.”
It wasn’t long after, when they had silently settled in next to each other and gazed at the trees, when Evan broke the silence. Connor could here the grin in his voice.
“Hey, hey! Do you see that one? It’s beautiful. I don’t know what it is though.” Connor turned to where Evan was directing him, but saw nothing on the branches or in the sky.
“Where? I don’t see any-”
“Oh,” Evan laughed, and turned and looked at him through his binoculars before lowering them. “It must be a you-bird.”
Evan was still grinning at his cleverness and Connor was still trying to figure out what Evan had just said when Evan leaned forward and kissed him.
They didn’t see many other birds, after that.
When Connor got home his family was all sitting at their kitchen table, waiting for him. His mother was pretending she wasn’t smiling as she said coyly, “How was your date with Evan?”
Connor shrugged. “We went birdwatching.”
Zoe’s face dropped into a frown of disgust. “Birdwatching? Who goes birdwatching on a date?!” She shook her head. “I guess we were wrong, mom.”
Connor shrugged again, and barely made it to his room before his grin broke and he could barely keep himself from laughing out loud. ~

The kind of literature that fan fiction is did not spring fully formed into being in the 1960s and 70s, though some journalists still seem to think so. Throughout this book I have been stressing the link, in literary terms, between fan fiction and any other fiction based on a shared canon […]. It is clear from the comments of fan fiction writers like Ika and Belatrix Carter that one major attraction of this genre for writers is the sense of a complicit audience who already share much information with the writer and can be relied on to pick up ironies or allusions without having them spelled out. Writing based on the canons of myth and folklore can do this too, though as Belatrix Carter pointed out in chapter 7, these canons have been so extensively used for so long it is becoming harder to do anything with them that feels original.

But there is another point, implied in Ika’s remark in chapter 2 - ‘What I like about fan fiction is that you can still get that very highly trained audience that can understand very, very complex and allusive things.’ The use of 'still’ alludes to the undoubted fact that for the traditional canons of myth, Bible, history, and folklore, this “very highly trained” audience is not as reliable as it once was, because the canon information is not as widely shared as it used to be. […] a writer can no longer allude to Lazarus, Circe or Alexander and be reasonably sure that most of his readers have in their heads the thoughts, stories or images for which he was aiming. The human need for heroes and archetypes does not go away, but their faces change with time, and one avatar takes the place of another. Ika’s point is a shrewd one: in an age of fragmented rather than shared cultures the fan fiction audience is unusual in having as thorough a knowledge of its particularly shared canon as a Bible-reading or classically educated audience once did.
—  Sheenagh Pugh, The Democratic Genre: Fan Fiction in a Literary Context, p. 219
Maybe, I just ask for too much.
Maybe, I give too much expecting the same in return.
Maybe, I should stop being disappointed when I’m alone again.
—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write// Maybe…
Can you trust him?” She asks, the cigarette dangling from her fingers. “Can tell him anything without feeling judged? Can you call him and know he’ll answer, or call back as soon as he can? If you’re hurt, and I mean really hurt, will he drop everything and get to you as soon as he can? Will he be there for you when someone you love dies? Will he look after you if you’re sick? Will he hold your hair back after too many tequilas? Will he be there? Does he try to see you, even if he has work early or a busy week?” She holds my gaze as she brings the cigarette to her berry lips. “If the answer is no to any of those things, maybe he’s not the one?
—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write// alter ego advice
You are my 3AM thoughts, my 6AM thoughts, my 12:31PM thoughts, my 5:52PM thoughts and my 9:41PM thoughts. You’re not just on my mind when I can’t sleep, you’re on my mind when I’m doing math problems, when I’m washing the dishes and when I’m babysitting a bunch of loud kids who won’t sit down.
—  you’re on my mind constantly. all day, all night.
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Me, about a historical event:</b> uhhh... I think it happened in that century... It was pretty important I guess<p/><b>Me, about a historical event which took place on my birthday:</b> ah yes, the Battle of Cannae took place on the 2nd of August, 216 BC and was one of the greatest military defeats for the Romans, if not one of the greatest defeats of all time. The figures for the number of casualties varies, with Polybius estimating 70,000 deaths on the Roman side while Livy and Appian give a more likely figure of 50,000 as Polybius may have been influenced by Punic propaganda when writing his histories. The Carthaginians, led by Hannibal, had a far superior cavalry partly made up of their Numidian allies...<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>
Any male nerd that chews out a female nerd for not knowing the exact details of Star Wars or Star Trek is a male nerd who is not getting laid anytime soon, we understand.

*Me* “All I said was I thought The Phantom Menace wasn’t so bad. I mean if you take out Jar Jar and clean up the script a tiny bit. Darth Maul was cool, wasn’t he?”

*Him* “You’re a fake geek girl!”

Oddly, I was open to sleeping with him. Just before he said that.