#and some are actual textbooks! But I certainly didn't start by reading a textbook.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hi!! I love this series so much, and as someone who hasn’t really drawn since they were a kid but wants to start as a hobby, do you have any advice for sort of learning to doodle on paper and get better at it? I want to start but I don’t really know how/where

The most important step in getting better at any skill is Persistence and Consistency. Practice and keep practicing! The best way to do that is to keep it fun! Picking a project helps generate ideas (e.g. drawing Pokémon, or characters from a series you like). There are also a ton of monthly prompt lists out there!

I also highly recommend scheduling in a 'drawing/practice' time in your day. For me, I started with 30-60 min before bed (bonus: its a good 'no screentime' activity), and the habit took root there.

There are a lot of 'technical' things to study but find the fun first. At a certain point you will discover you've hit a wall, and have a specific aspect/goal you want to target (colour theory, anatomy, lighting, comic layout). Then it's time to go looking for resources.

Once you have the habit and some goals, go collect some inspiration! Find people who inspire you and study their work!

Another little 'art skill builder' I recommend is the Shrimp Method! Only if you find technical challenges like this fun though (Example of one of my studies below)

[pinkanonwrites]

Hello~

the fics where jamil and azul turned into their respective animals were so cute 😭 may I request one with riddle turning into a hedgehog? tysm

You most certainly may! This one has been in the works for quite a while, so I hope everyone enjoys now that I'm finally getting it out for you all to read!

GN! Reader, They/them pronouns +1,700 words

"Housewarden! Please come out!"

"Riddle, I promise I won't take any more pictures!... Well, maybe just one? For the likes?"

"Snrk- Yeah, Housewarden! You'll be super popular this way!"

"Riddle, the sooner we find you the sooner we can figure out what happened."

Of all the things to expect when you waltzed into Heartslabyul commons that afternoon, you couldn't really say that this was one of them. Sprawled out amongst the furniture in various, uncomfortable states of disarray were your friends, clearly searching for something. Or someone, considering that the notable Housewarden of Heartslabyul was nowhere to be found.

As if to make the situation even more confusing, none of the boys seemed to be searching anywhere that would make actual sense for Riddle to be. Cater was on his hands and knees, peering under the sofa by the light of his phone. Deuce had somehow managed to weasel his head into the unlit fireplace, laying amongst the soot ad debris as he called upwards into the chimney with only an echo to respond. Trey was crawling around under the tea table in the sunroom with a deeply concerned expression.

And perhaps least helpful of all was Ace, who seemed to be picking up the same textbooks and flower vases on the coffee table again and again, occasionally lifting up one of his feet to check the underside of his sneaker.

"What are you guys even doing?"

Deuce jolted at the sound of your voice, smacking his head on the fireplace brickwork with a groan. The other boys all stumbled to their feet, dusting off their clothes and making their way carefully over to you, all but tiptoeing across the floor.

"Prefect! Did you see any adorable little hedgehogs in the hallway when you came in? Like, totes adorbs? With the grumpiest little eyebrows?" Cater's eyes were gleaming as he held up his phone, like he was expecting you to whip a hedgehog from your pocket and present it for him to photograph. Trey slowly put a hand atop Cater's phone and pushed it downwards and out of your face.

"We aren't taking any more photos of him. Not if we want him to come out at least." He added. Cater humphed, stowing his phone in his pocket.

"I didn't. But aren't you guys looking for... Riddle? Why would he be in the chimney?"

Deuce, with a face full of soot, piped in next. "Some sort of spell was cast on the Housewarden! One minute he was eating, the next, poof! We need to find him so we can take him to the Headmage."

"And whatever you do, don't take a bite of that tart, No matter how good it looks." Ace elbowed you and pointed to a half-eaten slice of strawberry tart on the tea table. Laying next to it appeared to be Riddle's magical pen, unattended. "That's our prime suspect for the magicking."

"You think... The tart cast the spell?"

Ace snorted. "You really don't understand how magic works here, do ya? We think someone might've cast a spell on it while it was in the fridge. So probably someone from Heartslabyul. But we can't figure that out until we find the Housewarden first. Sooooooo, if you aren't busy or anything?"

But you were already budging past the gaggle of boys and into the room to begin searching under furniture. Not that you'd ever tell him or any of his housemates (though you were starting to think Ace was catching on) you did have a particular fondness for the uptight Housewarden. And without reading into things too much, you were hoping he had just a touch of fondness for you as well.

Riddle didn't give you the same lectures he did to other students when you arrived with your tie crooked or your hair disheveled. He'd just quietly fix you up, tutting softly with just the faintest red to his cheeks. Then he'd seem to realize what he was doing, and rip his hands away like they'd been burned. It never stopped him from doing it again the next time, though.

He had a temper with others, but he never seemed to direct that anger towards you. He was notoriously strict, but more often than not you seemed to get away with merely a warning or a word of concern. Out of earshot, Ace had begun to refer to you as 'his favorite.'

You weren't quite ready to admit just how much that made your heart flutter.

"Of course I'll help. Is there anywhere you haven't looked yet?"

"We've covered most of the commons, do you want to start on the main hallway? He may be trying to get back to his room." Trey said. "Though he probably won't make it very far."

"Got it, I'll start there."

"Watch where you're stepping!" Deuce called after you as you made your way to the halls. "Don't squish the Housewarden!"

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deuce.

But Trey was certainly right about Riddle not being able to make it back to his room. The Heartslabyul dorm hallways were full of staircases, wandering and twisting up and away into nooks and corridors. Even if he did manage to safely make it down a staircase or two, there's no way he'd make it up the next one.

"Riddle? Are you in here?" You called, though you doubted his ability to reply. You tread carefully down each step, checking corners and around each banister as you went. And sure enough, at the base of the staircase leading up to the first hall of dorm rooms, you spotted a little red ball of spikes attempting to scale the first step.

"Riddle!" You gasped, causing the little critter to startle and tumble from the edge of the step. As he turned around you could see that Cater has been completely on mark with his description, Riddle's little hedgehog forehead graced with the tiniest pair of little furrowed eyebrows you had ever seen. You almost cooed at the image, but you got the feeling Riddle wouldn't appreciate it.

Speaking of not appreciating, rather than scampering into the relative safety of your embrace, tiny hedgehog Riddle chose instead to turn on his heel and make a mad dash for the next hallway, almost disappearing out of sight before your brain caught up with your eyes.

"HEY! Riddle, wait!" You bolted after him. You'd teased Ace and Deuce before, watching them chase awkwardly after their respective hedgehogs during croquet while yours remained perfectly well-behaved. You'd have to apologize after this. Despite their small size, hedgehogs could apparently really motor.

But this hedgehog was still Riddle, and if Riddle's P.E. grades were anything to go by, it wouldn't be long before he started running out of steam. And the moment you saw the little guy began to falter, you took a running leap, pouncing on him and scooping him into your cupped hands. He didn't give in without a fight though, thrashing in your grip and jabbing you with his pricked-up quills.

"OW!" You yelped, hissing through your teeth at the needling sensation. Riddle stopped thrashing immediately, staring up at you as you kept him still cupped in your hands. He looked... guilty? If you had to guess.

"It's fine." You murmured. “I know you didn't mean to hurt me." He began to relax ever so slightly, at least enough so his quills wouldn't continue jabbing into your soft palms. "You should have been more careful though! Why didn't you just let your housemates help? What if someone had stepped on you?"

He furrowed his tiny brow, opening his mouth and hovering it over one of your fingers like he was about to bite you.

"You won't. You're too mature for that."

You called his bluff, and he huffed to himself, pulling back and closing his mouth again before curling into a little ball in the center of your palms. You sighed, moving yourself to sit upright so you could keep him cupped close to your body.

"I'm serious. I know you have an image you want to uphold and all that, but everyone needs help sometimes. And I know Ace and Cater probably weren't very mature about it, but Deuce and Trey were really worried about you! I was too!" You sighed, bringing the little ball of spikes closer to your face as your voice dropped into a murmur. "I don't know what I would have done if you actually got hurt."

It took a moment but Riddle finally poked his head back out of his irritated spike ball. He unfurled, sitting in the palm of your hand as he watched you, shifting back and forth in a manner you would almost call sheepish if you'd seen a person doing it.

"Can you please let us help you, Riddle? For me?"

A long moment of silence passed, before he finally nodded. You sighed in relief, bringing your hands forward to press a little kiss to the top of his head. "Thank you."

POOF!

A wave of thick, pink mist began to envelop you, heavy with the scent of sugar and strawberries as it clouded your entire vision. A weight seemed to have draped itself over your lap, but it wasn't until the fog cleared that you were able to make out where it had come from. Seated facing you in your lap with his arms draped over your shoulders and somehow, despite all odds, redder than you had ever seen him in his life, was Riddle.

"I-I don't- I didn't- You-When-How did-?" He was stammering so hard you thought he was about to combust, and honestly you probably weren't that far behind him. But your brain was too fritzed to try and put any words together, so your body did the work for you instead. You wrapped your arms around his middle and tugged him in, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

"...Glad you're okay." You finally managed to force out.

He froze up, his whole body locked in place and for a moment you worried you made the wrong move. But then one incredibly shaky hand managed to find itself patting the top of your head in an awkward, placating manner.

"T-Thank you... for your help."

You couldn't have asked for a more Riddle-like response.

[burgeoning-ambition]

Finally a first language laddering post! In the near future I hope to start posting updates to my personal studying, maybe accompanied by study materials for others to use if I have the time! But first, I wanted to post an introduction.

Transcript of the images below the cut!

Language Laddering!

An Overview

I recently made a post asking about interest in me posting my personal Japanese -> Korean language laddering study journey and resources. And a lot of people seemed interested! Let's start off with an introduction to language laddering itself, since people may not have heard of it, or may not recognize this name for it! For my own personal stuff, I hope to post updates to my studies along with some resources as regularly as I can manage!

What is Language Laddering?

Language laddering, as I'm using the term, is a method of language study in which you use one target language (TL1) to learn a second target language (TL2). Basically, you cut your native language out of the equation and study in a target language!

How I Ladder

There are several methods you can use that I'd say count as language laddering, but I'm only going to go super in-depth into the methods I personally use!

If you study this way and have a specific method you love that I didn't mention, please mention it in a comment or reblog! I'd love to hear more methods.

Reading Japanese textbooks for Korean

Getting access to resources in Japanese is definitely harder because of international shipping, but I'm able to find store listings that offer sample pages! I've been using these until I can get the money to actually buy them.

In the meantime as I wait to get fully Japanese texts, I use the speaking pen from Learn Korean With BTS, haha- the speaking pen reads the book in four languages, and Japanese is one of them! So I just listen to it like an audiobook instead of reading the English!

Using apps and websites made by and for Japanese learners

While my Japanese dictionaries and apps are all in English, my Korean dictionaries and apps are all in Japanese!

I use an online Japanese-Korean dictionary on my phone, and when I practice grammar and other concepts in Korean, I use Japanese websites for Korean learners.

Recently, I've been using the site ハングルの森 to review basic grammar. I've been getting a pretty strong hold on Japanese grammar terms, too, which is exciting for more fully laddering!

Laddering languages in the way I choose to can be a very fun way to learn a new language and study one you've already been working on, but it doesn't work for everyone!

People who enjoy learning grammar and reading about how language works may enjoy it because they can learn grammar the way it's taught in their target language rather than how it's taught in their native language! This can be exciting, it's interesting to see how different languages teach concepts and learning grammar terms in a TL can open grammar-related doors! If you're a linguistics nerd like me, grammar-related doors are super exciting.

However, if you struggle a lot with understanding language instruction, and classroom language learning is really difficult for you, then it may only make things harder to try and use your TL's classroom language learning material for a new TL.

And that's okay! Not every learning method is for everyone. Learning through immersion may be easier and less frustrating if you struggle with classroom learning!

And guess what?

You can still ladder languages when doing immersion learning! Watching something in your new TL with subtitles for your stronger TL is one good way you can combine immersion learning with laddering!

I hope to post more about language laddering, although it will probably be pretty catered to my own personal study! People can feel free to send asks about anything specific they'd like to know! (Although I certainly am not an expert, so I can't answer everything)

Also, I know this post was SUPER text heavy, so thank you for making it to the end! I hope it wasn't too droning to read ^-^ Good luck with language laddering if you decide to try it!

[beautifulpersonpeach]

BPP, oh my god, the MHJ New Jean's news?? Do you have any thoughts? That's actually insane! What do you think is going to end up happening with New Jean's?

*

Ask 2:

Have you read about what’s happening with Ador and Hybe? What do you think?

*

Ask 3:

The TEA today about Ador Ceo was sad but not surprising. BTS is the story of betrayal by outsiders.

I was surprised when Tae worked with HER for his album. I didn't see that collaboration coming.

I have to wonder if she purposefully misled Tae into a "mid" album. Look, Layover isn't a bad album but its not a masterpiece regardless of what Tae solos believe.

The results are so different between albums like JITB, Astronaut, DDAY, Indigo, Face and Layover its crazy. The depth/personal experience reflected in those albums is undeniable while Tae's was all surface.

Golden is departure and its own thing. JK went for global popstar and achieved/ate!! His choreo reflected his status as part of 3J and his vocals were on display. Gorgeous!!! (Had to add that in because in this house we don't leave out members)

I feel bad for Tae today realizing he worked with a traitor. I will always wonder what he could have released if he had just worked with the Bighit team instead of Ador Ceo.

Maybe you have more insight into all this?

*

Ask 4:

Sooo... what are you thinking about this inter-hybe conflict between belift and ador? I know you're a nj fan but I think I've also heard you say that people are too quick to call things a nj copy, so I'm curious what you think about mhj's claims. I'll be honest that I thought that what I've seen so far seemed kind of unhinged-main-character syndrome to me but I also don't follow these groups and don't know how deep this goes. Certainly, I think mhj has been very deliberate and successful in building nj's brand, but I found this public argument unnecessary and potentially damaging to both groups. What kind of fallout do you expect?

*

Ask 5:

Bpp! Thoughts on the Min Heejin Hybe mess? I thought we were done with the corporate drama but tuns out no!

***

There's really nothing to say... yet.

News leaked that HYBE has leveled some allegations and accusations at ADOR, most likely based on a tip off, and launched an audit to ascertain if these allegations are true - in HYBE's statement confirming the audit, they don't name the people accused, but the news leak makes a point to name Min Heejin specifically, keeping the name of the VP who is accused of committing the acts unknown.

Min Heejin has responded in an exclusive interview and statement by ADOR, that she's innocent of most of the accusations and that this dispute started because HYBE has refused to curb inter-label plagiarism of her ideas with NewJeans. She refers specifically to Be:lift's new girl group Illit, noting how everything from choreography to visuals to styling to sound is based on her ideas, without proper attribution to her from Belift, nor an apology for what she calls blatant theft of concepts she's developing at ADOR. She accuses Bang PD of being complicit and prioritizing short-term profit over long-term viability of the new groups he's pushing out.

There are reports (unconfirmed) that HYBE has called for Min Heejin to resign. If ADOR doesn't call for a shareholder meeting by tomorrow, HYBE has indicated they might sue. The fact the meeting is being called before the audit is concluded, has all the hallmarks of a textbook corporate power play move, and implies to me something else than what I'm seeing most people here allude to. But still...

--

...there's nothing to say because what we're seeing is the middle innings of a power play game. There's simply too little info to make any decisive statements.

I immediately get a headache whenever things like this happen in k-pop because, even for more innocuous subjects, there's nobody more mind rotted than the average k-pop stan. And before long we'll have people whose only experience with executive/corporate power struggles is watching Succession, giving us endless takes in endless discourse. And this particular discourse is going to be more annoying because (1) Min Heejin is a woman who is already widely disliked, (2) There's an overwhelming amount of intersectional motives and interests both within and outside HYBE given the nature of the dispute, which typically leads to people infusing moral language into the discussion. It's going to be the HYBE-Kakao-SM discourse on steroids (and even in the HYBE vs SM drama, we had far more information to go on that what's available in this case).

I mean... Anon 3, you're already convinced this is a story of "betrayal", and claiming she is a "traitor", and you're tying a corporate power struggle to BTS. Not like I'd expect to see anything less from most other people to be honest.

This is really a dispute between Min Heejin and Kim Taeho (Belift's CEO), with increased grievance due to Taeho supposedly enjoying Bang PD and Park Jiwon's support and Heejin, supposedly, not.

The fallout, predictably, is going to be nasty. Given all the above. NewJeans is slated to have a comeback next month, Illit is only just ramping down debut activities while ENHYPEN is just starting the final leg of their FATE+ tour. If HYBE is indeed demanding MHJ resign, it's likely they only mean for her to resign from the CEO role but remain as the Creative Director of NewJeans - because the reality is that if there is no MHJ, there is no NewJeans. And it's that reality that in my view, is the primary leverage MHJ has. And she doesn't strike me as the sort to bluff. The worst case scenario is she leaves HYBE completely and NewJeans is put on hiatus, or the members sue to break their contracts with HYBE to follow her while she courts outside investors, similar to the Fifty Fifty situation.

Inter-label competition and drama is expected in a company like HYBE, it's wonderful because it can yield truly incredible results and unique approaches, but also potentally horrible because it can result in cases like MHJ's vs HYBE. There are ways to properly manage this competition to prevent the latter case, but I can't say I've seen any indication that with Jiwon nor Bang have done so. I said above that MHJ leaving HYBE completely is the worst case scenario for NewJeans, but it looks like the scenario most preferable for certain parties given it's one of the only viable outcomes from having this news broken this way. And so, most likely to happen. Unless Bang PD develops some hitherto unseen business acumen... so yeah I'm not holding my breath.

I have nothing insightful to add. My opinions about the suits at HYBE and Bang PD's business decisions for the last 2 years have skewed mostly negative, and that's not changed in this case. I'd rather not share my full opinions because I feel they run contrary to the dominant talking points here, and partly because they're not fully formed and nobody here is paying me to fully develop a view. I'm really not going to do that work for free.

We're all just going to have to wait and see.

What I will say though and something I find particularly interesting, is that HYBE has been accused of what Min Heejin is alleging, since at least the start of last year. Also, Belift in particular has been accused of plagiarism since the start of the year, twice, on issues unrelated to NewJeans. The first was when 'mobiius_music', an indie music producer on Instagram, accused them of lifting his music almost bar for bar for ENHYPEN's 2023 GDA dance break. The second was when Kelley Sweeney, an American choreographer who shares her routines on Instagram and tiktok, accused Belift of using her choreography for Illit's pre-debut practice without credit. Both times it was for low-level offences as it wasn't related to official music releases or album content, and so in that way Belift is better than bigger and more known agencies, but it still reflects a lax vetting process in the best case and unethical creative practices in the worst.

Anyway, my concern is for the artists involved while the suits try to play god with their careers. I can only hope that whatever happens is only the best possible outcome for all involved.

[qqueenofhades]

Wait hold up you know SIX LANGUAGES

Like I grew up bilingual (English in school and Spanish at home) and got through my two years of a foreign language in high school relearning (terrible) textbook Spanish, and I genuinely do not think my brain could hold another language in there if I tried and wouldn’t even know where to go about start to learn another one

But holy shit SIX langauges is so incredibly impressive and I dunno if you've talked about it before, but could you share a little more about how/why you have SO MANY?

Aha, thanks. I know that someone (recently?) asked me about this, but I can't be arsed to dig through my archives to find that answer, so the short version is:

I have studied French in some capacity for most of my life (it was the main foreign language in my house; my parents both speak it); this was enough to successfully bullshit a last-minute MA graduate proficiency exam while barely studying (seriously, don't do this) and then I did medieval French history for my PhD. This means I can read most things, including complicated academic texts (I will not understand a certain word here and there, but otherwise fine), and speak/understand enough to get around in France by myself.

My Spanish and Italian is somewhat ancillary to that. I studied Italian in high school and used to remember a lot more than I do now, enough to translate things, but (alas) I haven't practiced it in a while and lost most of it (but if I worked on it for a while, it would probably come back). I live in a fairly bilingual Spanish-English city and also briefly studied Spanish once upon a time, so there are daily opportunities to read and/or hear it. I would not say my current grasp of either one is particularly outstanding, but still generally enough to at least get the sense of things I read.

I am a medievalist, so I had to study Latin. It was kind of unavoidable. Not gonna lie, I Did Not Enjoy It, though if I had actually planned my career trajectory better, I should have taken it in undergrad. But I didn't, because why would you do that to yourself voluntarily? In any event, I can read charters and documents and primary source texts in Latin, although slowly and with a lot of swearing and recourse to William Whitaker's Words. I certainly can't read literary or elaborate poems or whatever, but for what I do, it's fine.

I taught myself how to read Cyrillic and started studying Russian during the first lockdown in 2020. I can understand some basic phrases and a few grammatical conventions, read text, understand the alphabet, and a few other things, though it is (as noted) very beginner-level. I would like to brush up on it, but that is among the many, MANY things I do not have actual time and/or brainpower for.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: when sworn academic rivals Belle French and August Booth are put in the same group for a presentation, things get out of hand— not in the predictable arguing or usual banter, but instead in Belle and August spitefully asking each other out on a date.

word count: 6K words (five chapters, all uploaded at once)

a/n: i started this one a while back but finally came around, polished it up, and got it finished for you guys! I wanna warn you going into this that it is horribly out of character, especially since most of my beauty and the puppet fics are very soft, and this one is a bit... crunchier? edgier? anyways, it's great and we love it. shoutout to the loyal and spectacular @kanerallels for betaing!

taglist: @kanerallels  @accidental-spice  @poptart-cat-78  @booksteaandtoomuchtv  @silver-the-phoenix  {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Beauty and the Puppet taglist, let me know!}

the first chapter is here, but you can read the full story on ao3!

Calling Bluffs- Chapter 1:  the group assignment that doesn't go as planned

 If you'd asked August who he'd pick as his partners for this group assignment, he wouldn't've picked the class clown and his academic rival.

 If you'd asked Belle to pick her partners, she wouldn't've picked Will— she'd made that mistake before— and she certainly wouldn't've picked the only other student in class whose intellect came close to hers— not nearly her equal, if course, but pretentious enough you wouldn't know the difference.

 If you'd asked Will who he'd pick as his partners, he'd've been smart enough not to say the two smartest students in class— the only people on campus stubborn enough to push him to do some of the work himself.

 And yet, when Professor Heller announced the team assignments in class last Monday, he put August, Belle, and Will in the same group.

 And so, Belle found herself in her dorm room with Will and August, sitting around their textbooks and a bag of chips, trying to work on a presentation about classic American Literature.

 "So, what were everyone's ideas for this presentation?" Belle asked.

 "Oh?" August said, "you're actually going to condescend to such lowly individuals as anyone-who's-not-you and actually listen to our input?"

 "I don't know," Belle rolled her eyes, having already failed at starting this project as professionally as possible, "are you going to share intelligent input?"

 "More intelligent than some people here," August glared at Will.

 "For your information," Will rushed to his own defense, "I actually do have an idea."

 Belle knew Will too well than to suspect this would be a good idea.

 "Let's hear it," August said.

 "Our report's on great American writers, right?"

 "Classic American writers," August corrected.

 "Exactly!" Will said, "and who's a more classic writer than famous songwriter Rick Astley? I suggest we start our presentation with…"

 Belle cut him off before he could finish vocalizing his stupidity. "We're not rickrolling our classmates."

 "You didn't even let me finish!" Will said.

 "But was she wrong in her assumption?" August asked.

 "What's that got to do with anything?" Will asked, "Literature is all about conveying emotion, and it's hard to put to words that emotion you feel when an inconspicuous link leads to Never Gonna Give You Up."

 "We're not gonna rickroll the rest of the class," August said.

 "Yeah," Belle agreed with August for the first time that semester, "some of us actually care about our grades."

 "A little too much," August said.

 "For the sake of diplomacy I'll ignore that hypocrisy," Belle said, trying as she may not to get into one of those petty academic feuds they so often partook in, "did you have any ideas that won't fail us immediately, August?"

 "As a matter of fact, I do," he said, "we pick an author, each of us writing a synopsis about a different aspect about them- such as recurring themes, personal lives and how it affected their literature, or effects on their works in the academic community- and then compile our findings, using the same template for the PowerPoint so it looks like we actually worked together on the project."

 "An unexpectedly great idea," Belle said.

 "I'm down for it," Will said, "how about I create the PowerPoint while you guys work on the boring stuff?"

 "I don't think so," August said, "in a group project, everyone brings something to the table- something more than throwing a PowerPoint together. What exactly do you bring to this group?"

 "For one thing," Will said, taking a few chips from the bag in front of them, "Doritos."

 "You'll have to try harder than that," August said, "we won't do your work for you."

 "August," Belle said, leaning closer and motioning for him to do the same, speaking in hushed tones so Will wouldn't be as likely to hear, "do you really want to be graded based on how Mr. Astley's biggest fan over here writes a report?"

 They watched Will stack six Doritos on top of each other and shove the whole stack in his mouth at once.

 "He's trying to take advantage of my intellect and your stubborn persistence not to appear imperfect," August said.

 "Will has a special set of gifts," Belle explained, "and one of them is graphic design. He can make our PowerPoint look so professional that no one will notice how pretentious you sound while you're presenting."

 "And to cover up for whatever your intellect may be lacking," August clapped back, then turned to Will, "I think we can make that work- just promise me you won't troll the rest of the class."

 "What if I find a way to thematically tie it into our selected author's themes and narratives?" Will asked.

 "Deal," Belle rolled her eyes again.

 "No deal!" August said, appalled.

 "You wanted him to do research," Belle said, "and he'll do best if he's researching something he's passionate about."

 "And next he'll be comparing The Gifts of the Magi to tortilla chips."

 "I care about more than just tortilla chips," Will scoffed, "there's potato chips too. But believe it or not, I am capable of getting us an A on this assignment."

 "You'd better be,' August said.

 There was silence for a moment as Belle picked up her textbook.

 "Which author would you guys like to write about?" Belle asked, "Hawthorne, Poe, Hemingway…"

 "Samuel Clemens?" August suggested.

 "Everyone is going to do an assignment on Samuel Clemens," Belle said, "that's the most basic answer you could've chosen."

 "You suggested Edgar Alan Poe, and you think Samuel Clemens was a basic suggestion?" August asked, "any self-proclaimed academic would come up with that one."

 "O'Henry then?" Belle asked.

 "Fine by me," August said, "I'll work on the themes and analysis if you wanna study his personal life."

 "So you think the personal life is the easy part, then?" Belle asked.

 "Pardon my display of chivalry," August said, "I simply thought you'd enjoy digging into people's history. Which part of the report would you prefer to give?"

 "Personal life is fine," Belle said, "I wrote about his themes back in high school and want to give myself a challenge this time."

 "And I'll put together the PowerPoint based on what you find," Will said.

 "Meet back here next week to compare findings?" Belle asked.

 "Fine by me," August said.

 "But you guys are bringing chips to the table next week," Will said.

 "Gladly," August said.

 As they began to pack up their supplies, Belle's roommate, Ruby walked in.

 "Hey, Ruby," Belle said.

 "Working on your Classic American Literature project?"

 "Just finished deliberating about it," Belle said, as Ruby sat down at her desk.

 "My group finally settled on an author," Ruby said, "we're gonna present on O'Henry."

 The others all sighed.

 "I told you that was a basic choice," August snapped at Belle.

 "You said Poe was basic," Belle said, curtly, "and that O'Henry would be fine."

 "Let's just do Hawthorne instead."

 "May as well," Belle said.

 "Doesn't matter to me." Will said.

 "Oh, hey, Belle," Ruby said, pulling out her phone, "don't forget to take out the trash."

 "Take out the trash?" Belle asked. Tired of trying her best to be civil, she turned to August, "fine then, wanna go out sometime?"

 It was a cheap shot, but she had to take it.

 "I suppose I have to say yes," August stood up, "it's my turn to take out the trash as well. Tomorrow at six?"

 "Sounds like a date," Belle crossed her arms.

 It wasn't until after the guys left that Belle turned to Ruby and asked, "what just happened?"

 "I think you just got yourself a date," Ruby said, not even looking up from her phone.

 "We were only arguing with each other," Belle explained, "it's a thing, ya know?"

 "Arguing, flirting," Ruby said, "it's all the same thing the way you two do it."

 "You don't," Belle laughed, "you don't think there's anything between August and I, do you?"

 "You mean besides chemistry, tension, and half the campus shipping you?" Ruby asked, "not at all."

 "The rest of our peers think there's something between August and I?" Belle asked.

 "Some of the teachers do too."

 "The same August who refutes everything I say in every class we have together?"

 "He's obsessed with you," Ruby said.

 "Obsessed with hating me," Belle said, "I can't stand him."

 "Yeah," Ruby smiled, "he 'can't stand' you either. That's why he asked you out."

 "We can't carry on a civil conversation," Belle said, "he's a pretentious know-it-all who's always trying to one up me. Why do you think he asked me out as a joke after I asked him? He can't stand being second to me. Knowing him, he'll probably show up at our door with a bouquet of cheap flowers tomorrow night, just to spite me."

 "How is that spiteful?" Ruby asked.

 "Trying to get me to back down from fake asking him out," Belle said, "I'll just have to be one step ahead."

 "How's that?" Ruby asked, "getting all ready for a date, just in case he does show up?"

 "Exactly," Belle said.

 Ruby sighed and rolled her eyes.

read the full story on ao3!

[your-divine-ribs]

Forbidden Part 3

Words: 2.1k

Y/N is about to find out exactly how much trouble she’s in… no warnings for this part (yet)

Forbidden Masterlist Main Masterlist

You swim up through the layers of sleep slowly, groggily, wincing at the bright light filtering through a gap in the curtains. It's strangely bright for saying how early it is...

Hold on... what time is it?

You open one eye, grimacing as the full effect of your hangover hits you like a sledgehammer square on in the face. You certainly didn't need this today of all days.

Then you catch sight of the digital display on your alarm clock and your heart practically stutters to a stop. In your inebriated state you'd passed out without setting it to wake you up in plenty of time to make it to your morning lecture on time.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" You curse with growing intensity, jumping up out of bed and stubbing your toe hard on the leg of your desk as you hurriedly rush to the shower.

You're a whirlwind of energy getting ready, somehow still managing to look presentable albeit a little flustered as you arrive breathless and flushed at the lecture theatre, pausing to listen at the door as you curl your fingers around the handle. Van's in full flow, you can hear the deep tone of his voice as he addresses the class, but then you are fifteen minutes late... at least. He's going to be livid. But maybe the fact that you've submitted your essay early will go some way to placating him.

You take a deep breath before you pull open the door and slip inside.

"Miss Y/L/N... kind of you to grace us with your presence finally."

His tone is condescending and there's a few hushed whispers and giggles from your class mates but apart from that the room is silent as fifty pairs of eyes turn to look at you. You smile awkwardly, your bottom lip catching between your teeth as you look at Van from across the room, trying to weigh up exactly how much trouble you're in.

"I'm really sorry... I just... I was errr... I stayed up late... working on your essay."

You add the last few words proudly, hoping your efforts have pleased him and he'll go easy on you.

Unfortunately for you, this doesn't seem to be the case. His eyes are blazing harshly even though a hint of a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. As usual he looks disarmingly gorgeous in that casually understated way of his. He's wearing a checked shirt and his signature skinny black jeans. His hair falls forward on to his face and you watch as he sweeps it back with a hand.

"Your... essay?"

He says the word slowly, questioningly, which instantly makes you nervous. Maybe you didn't actually submit it. You were sure you'd pressed 'send', but then after the amount of alcohol you'd consumed last night anything is possible.

"Yeah," you say uneasily, edging towards the back of the lecture room where you've spotted an empty seat. "You did get it didn't you?"

"Oh yeah I got it alright. It made for very interesting reading actually. I'll be needing you to expand on some points you made though. We can do that after you've enlightened me on why you seem to think it's acceptable to disrupt my lectures by showing up late every single time. Come to my office straight after class, okay?"

He holds your gaze whilst you slide into the vacant seat, a look on his face that sets you on edge. You've never been summoned to his office before and you start to internally panic. Maybe your bad attitude and persistent tardiness have earned you a formal disciplinary this time. Nerves jangle in your gut and linger there throughout the whole lecture, making it impossible for you to concentrate.

"Five minutes Y/N... my office. I'll be waiting."

That's Van's parting words as he brings the lecture to a close, fixing you with a stern look before he pushes through the door, leaving you feeling anxious and jumpy.

"Good luck Y/N, I think you're gonna need it! McCann looks well pissed off with you."

A gleefully teasing voice sounds from your right as you start to pack your textbooks away into your bag.

You turn to see Erica standing there. She's a model student, consistently gaining the highest grades on every piece of work, always on time and ready to contribute insightful thoughts in class discussions. In fact she's everything that you're not, and her blatant smugness causes your already frayed nerves to increase.

"Mind your own business Erica," you snap at her.

"Your days are numbered, I'm telling you!" She sniggers spitefully.

Five minutes later you find yourself standing outside Professor McCann's office, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, your hand raised up and poised, ready to knock and alert him to your presence. Your heart's racing and you take a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down. If you're about to be given a formal warning or even worse have your studies terminated, you want to try and fight your corner calmly and objectively. Show Van that you can change and that he should give you another chance.

And you're going to do this on your academic merits this time. Absolutely no flirting or immoral seduction tactics. None. None at all.

Your knock rings out loudly in the empty corridor and there's a slight delay before a deep voice emanates from behind the door, urging you to 'come in'.

You creak open the door to see Van sat behind his desk, arms folded in front of him on the desktop. It's not a welcoming pose and your heart sinks. Maybe Erica was right. You close the door behind you and step forwards tentatively as Van gestures to the seat opposite him across the desk.

"Sit down Y/N."

As you take a seat he leans back, reclining in his chair, his eyes flicking down to take all of you in. True to form you're not dressed conservatively. You're proud of your figure and a firm believer in the saying 'if you've got it, flaunt it.' Today that means a tight-fitting tank top and a tiny pleated skirt that's bordering on indecent. When you're sat opposite Van like you are now you can only imagine the view that he'd get if you uncrossed and crossed your legs. You do it anyway, taking your time, satisfied to see his gaze lingering a little too long where it shouldn't.

"Am I in trouble Sir?"

You make sure to add a little emphasis to the last word, recalling his instruction from the day before. A show of his authority which did more to encourage you than caution you, a hint of dominance that set your pulse racing.

What the fuck are you doing Y/N?

Your mind chastises you, but you ignore it. All good intentions go out of the window when you're face to face with Van. You just can't help yourself.

Whether or not your brazen display has had the desired effect remains to be seen as Van's eyes travel back up to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

You start to worry that you're taking things too far and any further sleazy manoeuvres on your part might worsen your situation so you straighten your posture, smoothing your skirt down, your knees firmly pressed together. Chastely.

"Well... that remains to be seen. I think we need to discuss this essay of yours.”

There it is again. A flavour of something in his words that you can't quite fathom. Maybe your imagined prowess in forming a notable piece of work isn't as strong as you think. You shift in your seat, uncomfortable.

"Was there something wrong with it?"

A loud laugh erupts from him suddenly and his misplaced humour in this situation surprises you. This is worse than you thought. You're not only failing due to your bad attitude but you're incompetent too. Any little confidence you had starts to seep quickly away.

"I worked really hard on it as well," you mumble, casting your eyes downwards to your hands which are clasped in your lap.

"I'm sure you did. But I think it's time you stopped playing these games with me... I mean it. If you push me too far I will have to teach you how to behave..."

What?

His stern tone causes you to look up and your breath catches in your throat at the intensity in his glare. It's not anger though. There's a barely contained kind of hunger there that sends a spike of heat through you. He leans forward, planting his hands on the desk. The very same desk you've fantasised about him doing all sorts of things to you on.

"What do you mean?"

Your voice comes out small, uneasy despite the fact that your lower body is now pulsing with desire. The air in the small office is so thick with tension that it's palpable.

"Don't act all innocent," he says, and you watch as he prises open the MacBook on his desk, jabbing at the keys. "Like I said before, I can't just ignore this kind of behaviour."

As he speaks he starts to slide the open laptop around so that the screen faces you. You can see an open document but the type is too small to read from your current position so you lean forward in your seat, narrowing your eyes.

FUCK...

That's when the realisation of your mistake hits you. You never submitted your essay. You sent Van the wrong document.

Your cheeks flush the deepest shade of crimson and your heart starts stuttering in pure shock and mortification.

You're so flustered that you don't even realise that Van's risen up out of his seat and walked around the desk to come and stand behind you until you feel his breath warm on your neck as he leans right over you, hands on the back of your chair.

"This is... there's been a mistake... this isn't... this isn't my essay..." you say, your voice a whisper, squirming in your seat from a combination of your embarrassment and his sudden proximity.

"No shit!" He chuckles softly. He's so close you can feel his hair tickling your neck. "I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to look at this desk in the same way after reading all that."

You giggle nervously. Your palms feel damp with perspiration and you wipe them against the sides of your skirt, wondering what happens next. He's so near that if you turned your head just slightly he'd be close enough to kiss...

"What are you going to do?"

You realise you're holding your breath, waiting for his answer. Your heart's beating so hard you feel faint.

"Hmm... I don't know. What do you think I should do? You've been a very bad girl."

His words set off a throb between your legs and you press your thighs together. You've no doubt that he knows exactly what he's doing to you. His breathing sounds deep and heavy in your ear.

You consider whether he's testing you but the notion's only fleeting. You're too turned on to think about this rationally and consider consequences. You want him so badly and all you can think about is how it's going to feel when he puts his hands on you.

This is your chance.

"Maybe you do need to teach me a lesson," you say quietly, your cheeks aflame.

"Is that so?" He breathes, and this time his lips actually brush your neck, sending a shiver through you.

"Yes Sir..."

He doesn't hesitate. "On your feet Y/N."

You do as he instructs, rising up slowly, still facing away from Van. He drags the chair away, stepping closer, and you feel his fingers curl around your hips a second before his body meets yours.

His head's bent low so he can whisper in your ear as he gently propels you forward until you come to a stop, the desk pressing into you mid-thigh.

"Do you realise how much I've dreamt about this? Every lecture... it's been like torture. I've been trying so hard to be so professional, but every time I see you all I can think about is fucking you. And now I know you feel the same way..."

His confession stuns you but you don't say anything, you just wait, anticipating his next move, tension rippling through you as he carries on, one of his hands gliding down your hips until it comes to a stop at the hem of your skirt.

"And it's wrong... I know it's wrong... but I can't help it. Fuck... the things I wanna do to you... you have no idea..."

Your legs feel weak, your head in a spin. You want him. You want him more than you've ever wanted anyone.

This is really happening...

[crazybluedragon]

MXTX Character DND Classes

So, I know I’m a small art blog or whatever but I have so many opinions on possible dnd classes for characters that I have to put them on the internet. I know there's at least some overlap between the mxtx and dnd fandoms. By no means are these classes the best fit either, these are just the Thoughts I Have Thunk. If you have thoughts about this too feel free to share!

I’m gonna start with the main mxtx characters cause that fandom sits side by side with dnd in my brain.

MDZS

I went through several different ideas for Wei Wuxian. Originally I put him down as an undead warlock because of the ghosts, and the Stygian tiger amulet could be his patron of sorts. The vibes were off though, and warlocks don't get nearly enough magic for what he uses and was like well he did make an entire cultivation path by himself in 3 months which is very wizard behavior. So he is currently sitting in necromancy wizard territory. I did also see someone mention grave cleric, which I don't hate. Lan Wangji has always and forever been a bard to me. College of swords specifically. Literally the first time I saw him I went "omg he's a bard". He's certainly horny enough for the class. There is also something about wangxian therefore being a wizard/bard ship that provides unadulterated chaos that is just so in line with their dynamic.

TGCF

Xie Lian could only work to me as a multiclass. Half because he's all over the place and half because it fits him narratively. I'm thinking battlemaster fighter and undead warlock for him, his patron being Hua Cheng. Xie Lian was like a completely physical fighter for a long time simply because he didn't have the spiritual power to do much magic. I believe he even mentioned he was physically stronger than the other heavenly officials because they relied too much on their magic. Flash forward to him meeting Hua Cheng and making a "pact" for spiritual energy and now he can do some spells just like warlocks in dnd! Speaking of Hua Cheng, he is totally an oath of devotion paladin. I don't know any character that is as utterly devoted to something as he is to Xie Lian (who is his patron). And like, he made a promise to be devoted forever and that's how he got powers, which is textbook paladin. The thing about the two of them too is they get to be each other's patrons which I think is cute and something that could be super interesting in an actual game.

SVSSS

This one was hard. It took me a while to decide on what class to give Shen Qingqiu. Ultimately I decide on sorcerer on vibes alone. He's got some charisma, he's got some innate talent, like I think its in there for him. I did think about warlock because of the system, however if you haven't noticed all of the main characters have been warlocks at some point so I think that's boring. Luo Binghe has blood hunter written all over him. I know its not totally an official class but he can control people with his blood so that's what he is to me. Subclass I'm not sure on because I feel like all of them except order of the lycan would fit to some degree. I'm just not sure on either of them which makes me sad because scum villain is my favorite.

Sorry for the long post, I have simply been haunted. Add headcanons or thoughts if you feel like. Thanks for reading.

[a-method-in-it]

Girl what the hell is that last post you just reblogged.

(((They))) leave out or what.

Have you considered that you just did not pay that much attention during history class, because I learned about many of these things.

Jesus Christ half of that Tweet chain is just antisemtic conspiracy theories with 'zionists' instead of jews, as if that's not something the alt-right has started doing years ago.

Calling jewish people 'white' as if that's what the perception was at the time or makes any sense considering Jewishness is an ethnicity.

Fucking hell. You seemed like a reasonable person for a long time yk. But a claim that the goddamn Holocaust wasn't explicity and overwhelmingly targeting Jews with most others as afterthoughts is insane and history denying.

Literal textbook antisemitism.

Hi --- From the sound of this ask, you're someone who follows me, and as such I wish you hadn't sent this on anon so that I could reply privately, but here goes.

I assume you are talking about this post? That's the closest thing that I can find in my reblogs to what you're describing, though a lot of what you say about it here isn't actually true.

The post does not call Jewish people white --- it says that the way the Holocaust is presented in mainstream education seems designed to portray Jews as perfect white victims who didn't even fight back, which is obviously not true. (The fact that it's not true, including the white part, is what the Twitter user is pointing out.)

It also never claims that the Holocaust was not overwhelmingly targeting Jews, and I honestly don't know where you got that.

Also, I can't speak to where you went to school, but as a middle class white American, I actually was not taught anything in school about the Herero and Nama genocide, the presence of armed Jewish resistance to the Nazis, the fact that Hitler was inspired by the Armenian genocide, and certainly not that he was inspired by the genocide of indigenous peoples in the United States. (I did in high school learn that the Red Army liberated the camps and that people other than Jews were targeted as well, including Romani and disabled people; I have, however, had friends who were surprised to learn this as adults.)

You seem to think this post was criticizing the way that Jewish people talk about the Holocaust, but unless you think that Jewish people are in charge of all education policy (which would be a weird thing to think?) I don't see how you're getting that at all. The post specifies it's about Holocaust education, which I read as the things people are taught in school.

For what it's worth, I have found that Jewish sources of information about the Holocaust are actually less likely to fall into these traps than mainstream American ones, just speaking from my own experience.

I will say I'm not thrilled with the way the Twitter user makes the leap to saying that this type of education is deliberately meant to further zionism. I think that's a stretch. I reblogged it anyway because I thought it was overall making good points. I might wind up deleting it; I certainly take it seriously when something reads to Jewish people as engaging in anti-Semitic tropes, and if you have more to say about why you think this does that, I truly am happy to listen. I don't really see it that way, but as a goy, I often miss things.

But yeah. I feel like this would have been a better convo to have non-publicly, and I wish you hadn't chosen to go the anonymous route. I don't know what to make of statements like "You seemed like a reasonable person for a long time yk." coming from an anonymous ask. Are we mutuals? Have we interacted? Or are you basing this assessment purely on my online presence? Are you treating me like some quasi-public figure because I *checks notes* have a pseudonymous account on the internet's least popular social media site or have I offended someone I know and have some online relationship with?

If you want to send a chat or an ask I can answer privately, I'm happy to keep talking, but if you send another anonymous message, I will not be replying.

[x-ceirios-x]

falling even more in love with you

aric has spent most of his life alone and can't fathom the idea that mollie cares about him like he does her. fortunately, mollie is a lot bolder than he is.

cw: some mild cursing. very fluffy

Aric stared at the textbooks in front of him, staring at the letters but not actually reading. These diagrams didn't make sense in the least—he wasn’t a good student before he got to the academy and he surely wouldn’t be now. In his frustration, he fell forward, laying his head on the book. Then he proceeded to hit his head against it several times. 

He heard Jeremy snicker from his bed across the room. “I don’t think information-via-osmosis violence is going to help you remember any of this for this quiz tomorrow.”

He paused and turned his head to glare at his best friend. “Don’t use your fancy biology words at me.”

Jeremy laughed from next to him and stood up—the next thing he knew, he was hitting the mattress with his forehead instead of the textbook. He closed it and placed it next to him, then sat on the bed. “You wanna talk about it? This is obviously not about a quiz.” Aric looked at him funny, so he laughed and continued, “look, I know you don’t do touchy-feely, let’s-talk-about-our-feelings, but I have four younger siblings. Which means I’m a certified therapist.”

He rolled his eyes at him and sighed. “I dunno, man. It’s all stupid.”

“I forget, sometimes, that you don’t know how to communicate your feelings.” He stood and grabbed his sketchbook off of the nightstand next to him. “You work better in pictures anyway. I’m going to get a shower, and when I come back I want to see whatever is bothering you.” 

He glared at him for a second, but he didn’t leave much room for argument. Once he left the room, he finally did as he asked—he opened the sketchbook and started doodling. It started with flowers and little jewels, coming up with little things he’d love to paint on the wall outside Mayhew’s room to piss him off. Then the jewels turned into circles, swirls, strange shapes he wasn’t quite thinking about, when he realized he’d drawn half of the Moral Cup. 

The Ascension was in a few weeks. He was nervous as hell—tensions kept rising between their classmates and he was concerned Valentine and the lightwoods were going to do something stupid. Then again, Valentine Morgenstern was always stupid and deserved the broken nose. 

Moreso, he was worried for himself. If he wasn’t ready—if whatever angels didn’t accept him—he wouldn’t survive. And he was terrified. It was like looking death in the face at seventeen and leaving it up to fate if he’d take him. He didn’t want to leave the shadow world—since he started at the academy, his entire life changed around. He expected to barely graduate high school, maybe drop out, and end up involved with some less-than-respectable things to make money. That was just the area he grew up in, despite his mom doing her best. He’d made great friends, started actually working at school, found things that were fun and not just surviving through life. He didn’t want to leave Jeremy or Céline, and certainly not Mollie. 

Mollie.

She was driving him crazy. They’d all go to lunch outside and he’d spend the entire time watching her, looking at her smile and making sure she laughed first when he told a joke. Recently, she’d been complaining about her hair getting too long and she liked to put up her curls with a few pencils. She took notes for their history class in blue pen and Downworld relations in black. All classes required at least one purple highlighter and a red pen to doodle in the corner. He watched as she desperately practiced for an extra hour after training, simply wanting the best at everything she did. And every day they ate dinner and studied, and his notebook was full of little red doodles as she explained things. She liked to dance in her free time, though she self-admittedly had the grace of an elephant outside of training. She was always trying something new and interesting, setting trends or getting weird looks among classmates without a care in the world. Everything she did, to him, was nothing short of beautiful. 

He didn’t have the time to think about her with everything going on, but that didn’t stop him most days. He was seventeen now and he just needed to survive the Ascension so he could start collecting a salary from the Clave and send money to his mother back home. That was his promise—he’d go off to this “boarding school” over in Europe and spend a few years there, and he was guaranteed a good job afterward, and would be able to send her money to save to get out of the city. He didn’t have the time to worry about anything else, or so he kept telling himself. 

Jeremy walked back in after a while, hair damp and in pajamas. He sat down on the bed next to him and glanced over his shoulder. “How’d I guess,” he said, amusement clear in his voice and on his face in the way he smirked. “You have to talk to her.”

Aric looked at the paper where he’d started a (very rough) sketch of Mollie on the paper. Realism and portraits were never really his thing, but hey, you could tell who it was. Maybe he was getting better at it. He turned his head to glare at Jeremy for a second and tossed the sketchbook to the bottom of the bed. “I’m not talking to anyone.”

He rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the arm. “I watch how you look at her. It’s…it’s ridiculous at this point. You look like a lovesick puppy.”

“I do not—“

He looked at him in a way that indicated there was no argument to be had here. Eyebrows raised, daring him to try to refute. Aric muttered a string of curse words in Spanish that would have gotten a shoe or a wooden spoon thrown at him at home and sighed. “You’re annoying,” he said, giving the only argument he could come up with.

He scoffed and got up, returning to his own bed. “And you’re incredibly stubborn for no reason. For being someone that I’ve known to never be afraid of anything, you’re pretty afraid of rejection, Aric.”

He stared for a second, watching Jeremy get comfortable and open his book for the evening. That was his signal that he was ready to be done people-ing for the day, as he said, and he should shut up. So he did, tossing his books on the floor and deciding he’d clean them up in the morning. He laid down, deciding he could fall asleep and deal with his problems tomorrow. 

***

“You’re fidgeting,” 

Aric looked up and stopped spinning his pencil. He was getting anxious the more he sat reading the stupid book in front of him, understanding nothing about these different kinds of demons. He didn’t care—everything died with a seraph blade eventually. And the names weren’t in languages he recognized, most of them are old, he had no idea how to pronounce half of the words on the page, and he couldn’t think clearly. 

Mollie placed her hand over his, sliding the book away with her other one. “Talk to me,” she said, turning towards him. “I don’t care about coursework. You’re anxious.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, looking over her hand and trying to continue reading the book. “This stuff just doesn’t make sense. I’ll read it again, it’ll click eventually—“

The glare she gave him cut him off. With a much gentler tone, she said, “what have I told you about pushing yourself? If you can’t do more than twenty minutes of this at once, don’t do it. Let’s take a break.”

He laid his head in his hand, leaving hers still (he wouldn’t admit how much he liked her holding his hand), and sighed. “It’s worthless. I’m never going to understand all this.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling his chair and spinning him towards her. “It’s not worthless. You are not worthless, you’re just not doing what you’re good at. Your brain doesn’t work for…what are you even doing—“ she looked at the book, then his notebook, then back to him— “demonology or whatever. And that’s completely fine. We learned a while ago that you just don’t work like other people, and it’s fine.  You work in pictures, you work in art, Aric, and it’s beautiful.”

He stared at her for a moment, mouth slightly open in shock, too many thoughts for him to process racing through his mind to process everything she just said. She’d always told him it was fine that he didn’t think like everyone else—that he couldn’t think like everyone else. It didn’t bother her and she had the patience to work with him. It turned into an unlikely friendship—the school rebel and the straight-A, perfect princess. He knew she was never shallow like some of the kids he dealt with before the academy, but she was perfect. 

Mollie was smart—not just smart, but clever. He remembered her and Jeremy working on some law class and sitting in the courtyard next to Céline, listening to the two of them debate about whatever their assignment was for practice during class. The two went back and forth for an hour, only stopping when she finally found a loophole in his argument and he conceded. 

She was kind—kinder than anyone he’d seen. He watched as she helped new recruits during training and showed them new techniques she had a handle on. She stopped to help wounded animals in the woods and caught spiders with a cup instead of squishing them. The only true aggression he’d ever seen from her was during training, and even that she did with a smile. 

Mollie was strong in so many ways. At seventeen, she continued to prove to her siblings she could carry one of them under each arm (Patrick hated it, Gunny loved it), and even proved she could pick him up a few weeks prior. When he got there he was a scrawny kid, but he was pretty solid after 3-4 years of training, so it was impressive. She showed her strength in her resilience as well—no matter what came at her, she found a way through it. Fights with Céline, the loss of her mother when she was young—she was a fighter and he admired her for it. 

She insisted he was the beautiful one, but he knew it was just the opposite. 

It was a quick moment—one second he was staring at her, awe-struck, and the next he was kissing her. That was quick, too. He pulled away almost immediately, cursing himself for making such a rash decision without thinking. He didn’t have time to process the mistake he made, though, because she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in again. In an instant, he felt her lips on his and everything felt right. Her chapstick tasted like lemon candy. His heart was beating out of his chest, but her grip slowly loosened on his shirt and he found himself holding her face—gentle, like she was porcelain. 

After what felt like too much but not enough time, she pulled away, a grin wide on her face. Her eyes lit up when she smiled—maybe it was just the fact that he looked at her so much, but her green eyes shined in a way he couldn’t describe. It was his favorite color. 

“I was wondering when you were going to do that,” she said, inching her chair a little closer to his. The sun was beginning to set through the library windows behind her, creating a halo of orangey-red around her. He watched as she fiddled with the ring she kept on her hands—a small, delicate thing decorated with a light blue gem and butterflies. Céline had gifted it to her a long time ago. 

He stared blankly, looking at her with a kind of anxious excitement he hadn’t felt before. “You…you what?”

She chuckled. “I’ve only been flirting with you for…four months? At least that’s been the serious flirting.”

He stared again. Jeremy was right and he was never going to hear the end of it. “I—I guess I didn’t-“

“It’s alright,” she said, brushing her hair through his hair. He felt her nails scratch across his skin and shuddered, though he hoped it wasn’t obvious. Being so close to her was nothing short of intoxicating and breathtaking all in the same way. “I was beginning to wonder if you were giving me the cold shoulder because you weren’t interested.”

He swallowed, trying to find the words to respond. “No, I—no. Definitely not that.”

She rested her hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. “I meant what I said, Aric. I think you’re amazing.”

He could feel his face heating up in embarrassment. “I need you to stop talking,”

They both laughed. It was good to laugh—he’d been so stressed lately that he hadn’t felt really happy about something in a little while. But sitting with Mollie was so easy—she relaxed his nerves, even if he was on edge for other reasons (like trying not to embarrass himself in front of her). 

She dropped her hand and happened to glance at the clock—he watched as she did a double take and rushed to stand up. “I am so sorry—I promised Céline that I’d help her tonight because she’s going to some gala in Idris this weekend. And I’m, like, fifteen minutes late.”

Aric chuckled at her comment and waved it off. “I’ll hang here for a while and try to review. Thanks for the help tonight.”

She gathered her things and shoved them into the messenger bag that was slung over her shoulder. “Anytime,” she said rather breathlessly before running off. Less than a second later she was back; she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then ran off again. 

He muttered a couple curse words under his breath—an array of Spanish that would have put a sailor to shame. If it didn’t kill him first, he thought things with her—wherever their relationship was going—would be a great thing.

[lacunose]

Hi! I'm a non classics student who's really passionate about ancient history, and I'm interested in learning attic greek so I can read literature like the Oresteia. But I've read a lot of discussion about how it is a good idea to start with Latin first because it's much easier, and then transition to Greek later. Do you have any thoughts? I don't actually know much about Latin literature, but I know it has a lot better learning resources compared to ancient greek, do you know any suggestions good learning resources for Greek in your experience?

hello and yay!! in my experience, Latin did feel somewhat easier and more straightforward than Greek, but I also started with Greek first when I was 18 with no proper language learning experience prior -- and knowing one of the language certainly helps immensely with learning the other! but you can always start with Greek, and almost everyone in my class did, and though the learning curve can be steep it's completely doable, and very fun.

if your goal is to read ancient Greek texts in the original, and the Latin texts are less important to you (and it seems like Greek is your main focus), just start with Greek! Latin will also be a steep climb, so if you're mainly learning it to get into Greek, cut out the middle man.

I learned Greek out of Luschnig's "An Introduction to Ancient Greek: A Literary Approach", which I enjoyed because it starts introducing passages from ancient Greek works very early on, so you can start to get a feel for how the language works as you go. I'm not well-versed in other Greek textbooks, but I've heard good things about the Cambridge and Oxford courses. all of these textbooks can be found for free online on library genesis i believe <3

as for learning resources, I didn't use much else besides my textbook when I was learning Greek, but I do use Quizlet now to revise core vocab. the Oxford Grammar of Classical Greek by James Morwood is also a handy reference to have, as is a good dictionary. Found in Antiquity: Ancient Greek is a youtube channel run by a Latin teacher who makes videos for learners of Greek (and Latin, on her Latin channel) with some videos introducing letters, accents, and pronunciation, and others telling familiar stories in basic Greek to help with understanding and fluency, so that might be useful too!

the Perseus Digital Library project is also an excellent resource not for learning Greek, but for help translating/reading texts when you get there (and you can also just use it to access texts in translation, but the translations are often out of date). Geoffrey Steadman's commentaries are also great for beginning to translate, and are designed for students -- each page has some Greek text, with most of the vocabulary and a number of grammatical points given on the same page for easy access.

this is everything I can think of for the moment, feel free to message me if you have other questions thoughts etc.! if anyone has other resources or advice for this anon let me know and I will add them here...I hope this all makes sense!

[anamericangirl]

Since you mostly get hate asks on Tumblr insulting your intelligence with nonsense, I thought I’d give you an actual question:

As a mother of children approaching college age, I am always curious how young people with very solid, principled belief systems managed to resist the siren song of lefty liberalism. That ideology is hard to resist when you are young, idealistic, and very naive (i.e. 99.9% of your asks!)…especially to the realities of human nature while approaching an age that is naturally characterized by hubristic rebellion. I have a very close relationship with my kids and have always talked with them about social issues (age appropriately, of course) - something my parents never did. I do see, however, a tendency now in my daughter to think first with her feelings before confronting realities and facts first, or really investigating an issue. It makes me nervous she will fall prey to what so many young women get sucked into when striking out on their own in college. I should add: we are an agnostic household (unfortunately). My son voluntarily asked for and we gladly provided a study bible he reads often, and he did a deep dive on world religions. My daughter, though being in honors and AP classes, isn’t really into pleasure reading and philosophical discussions the way my son is. Many of her friends though are raised in religious households. I am kindling the small flame a of never-before-held belief in God myself now in my 40’s - which I have spoken with my kids about - but we do not attend church. Neither of my kids are allowed to have social media, and I’m pretty careful about their screen time - phones are turned in to my room before bed every night, no exception.

All this to ask: do you (and anyone else reading this I guess!) have any tips from your own experience for what kept you anchored in reality and morality through an age that is noted for “less-than-fully-informed-rebellion-for-rebellion’s-sake”? Was there something your parents did, or did not do, that helped you stay grounded?

Thanks for the sincere question!

I don't have any children and I can't imagine how difficult it is these days to keep them grounded. My experience growing up was a bit different, of course, as I'm sure you would understand since this radical leftism ideology wasn't nearly as prevalent as it is now, although the groundwork for it was certainly there. And social media was a very new thing so it wasn't filled with propaganda. That's one thing that I think is having a very big influence shaping the minds of children today.

I think being homeschooled was something that helped me a lot since I wasn't exposed to leftist propaganda at a very young, impressionable age by a person who was trying to indoctrinate me. My parents were very aware of what I read, watched, and listened to. Even though I was allowed social media my time on it was limited and I didn't have a phone until I was in high school (but cell phones were still pretty new too). I couldn't even listen to music if my parents didn't see the lyrics first. And in some cases it may have been too strict but they were young and still figuring out parenthood and these things got much more relaxed as my siblings and I got older. And this is not to say that I was never exposed to other ideas, I absolutely was, but I was exposed to them through age appropriate filters. All through middle school and high school I took classes that taught me how to think, not what to think. One I specifically remember was focused on learning about several different political and historical views, but the class set a foundation on how we should approach ideas and a standard through which they should be analyzed. Learning how to research and how to think was probably the most helpful thing because as I got older and started exploring other ideas (and I did go through a phase where I was persuaded by some more leftist ideals) I knew not to just accept what I heard or what I read in my textbook, but to use the same research and judgment skills I'd been using all through my schooling.

And I'm rambling a little bit lol so I apologize but even with all that college is where they get you and it's hard to avoid. So many of the friends I had growing up who were conservative became flaming liberals once they went to college and still are to this day. Some of my siblings are more left leaning than right leaning and one of my siblings definitely thinks with feelings first. It's hard to avoid propaganda and not be sucked in to it when it's in your face all the time and it's the angle through which you are being taught. But it sounds to me like you are setting a very good foundation with your kids by talking about these things with them and letting them explore other ideas while you still have control of the situation. College was definitely not the first time I was exposed to the ideas I was presented with while getting my degree and if it had been I think it would have been more challenging to think critically about them. I just know whenever I heard a new idea whether it be in school or wherever, I knew to question it and research it from more than one angle before accepting it.

I know this might not be helpful and it's more a story of my experience rather than advice but like I mentioned I'm not a parent and it is so different today than it was when I was growing up because now these harmful ideologies are going after children while they're young and it can be really challenging to combat the messages the world is pushing in the faces of children. But to me it sounds like you are already setting a good foundation, creating standards and not just leaving your kids to come face to face with new ideas unprepared because in college they'll definitely have their beliefs challenged. And I really hope this was somewhat helpful as I know I rambled and went on a bit of a tangent and hopefully others can chime in with their experiences and what helped them!

But side note I'm excited about your new spark of belief in God! Please reach out if you have any questions! I'm not a theologian but I've been a Christian for a long time so I know some stuff :)

[stranger-marauders]

the kate hopper collection

steve and kate's friendship in high school

summary: the initial dynamic between Steve Harrington and Kate Hopper before November 1983.

chapter warnings: language, mention of a deceased sibling, cheating

word count: 4.7k

collection masterlist | masterlist

KATE AND STEVE had been best friends since the first day of preschool. Whenever she moved to New York, of course, they became a bit more distant, but once Kate had moved back to Hawkins, they'd become even closer than they were before.

Middle school, while proving to be difficult for Kate with balancing grief and living in a new town, seemed to breeze by. By the time freshman year had rolled around for them, they had become completely inseparable, even if they took some different classes and Steve had two separate sports to deal with on top of that.

At that point, Kate went home with Steve every day after school if she didn't have work.

It was a normal thing for her, really. If she did have work, she could only hope that she could hitch a ride with Jamie somehow if Steve's mom couldn't drop her off. Today, though, she could do her math homework in a timely manner.

Steve, however, was struggling. Though he was in a much lower class than Kate, he didn't want to ask her for help. He didn't want to seem dumb, and that was how everyone treated him: dumb. It wasn't like she treated him that way, but he didn't want to potentially screw that up, too.

She was so smart. Even as he watched her now, her pencil seemingly dancing over the paper as she finished her factoring questions, he was partially amazed. He didn't hate her for it, but he certainly wished he was as smart as she was. Kate liked to read, and she liked doing math, even if she didn't like to admit it. School had always made sense to her, and he was glad that it did, but he wished he had the same luxury.

"You okay?" Kate finally asked after she'd caught him staring at her. "You're, like, kinda freaking me out."

Whenever she said that he realized how creepy he must've looked. "Sorry."

She scooted closer to him, looking at the hardly attempted first question. "What's up?"

He shrugged, stifling a laugh. "It's, uh... it's nothing. Seriously."

She gave him an unconvinced look, turning his book and paper toward her. "Yeah, okay, what question are we looking at?"

He sighed in defeat. "Number two."

"Okay." Kate looked over the question and immediately saw where the issue was: 3(x+1) = –6. He'd written it back out on his own piece of notebook paper, but he hadn't started on the actual problem yet. She pressed her lips together, trying to think of what to do.

"I'm sorry, I'm stupid. I should've—-"

"Hey, no, don't say that," Kate said, turning back to him. "No, this is just new stuff, and you got stuck with Mundy who is a chronic over-explainer."

He stifled a laugh, trying to remain serious. If he couldn't even do his homework, how was he supposed to pass the class? He already felt done for.

Kate grabbed a piece of notebook paper from out of her supplies and closed her textbook to write on the back of it. "I'm gonna show you how to do this, okay? Step-by-step. I'll even write instructions on it so you can keep it forever."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. It'll help, I promise."

He shrugged, watching her write down numbers as quickly as she could. Whenever she got finished solving it, she pushed the hair out of her face, holding up the piece of paper. "See?"

Steve squinted, trying to read over it as he held it in his hands. "Still doesn't make too much sense."

She pointed to the lines she'd drawn from each of the numbers inside the parentheses connecting to the three on the outside. "Okay, so see this three? It's gonna multiply out to everything inside of that right there."

"Why?"

"The simple answer is 'because I said so,' but it's just because it's pressed up against that parenthesis there. The only exception is if there's some type of symbol there, like an addition or a subtraction sign."

He nodded, kind of getting what she was saying. He pointed to the next line of the equation after the distributive property had been used. "Okay, and why can't I add that together?"

"One's got an x and the other one doesn't," Kate said simply. "The three's gonna be subtracted, because we gotta move it to the other side, and that's how it ends up being negative-nine."

"And that's why you divided the rest?" Steve asked, pointing to the next to last line. "Because you're getting rid of all that stuff?"

"Yeah, exactly," she said, boxing the x-equals-negative-three answer. "You think you can do the next one?"

He shrugged. "I hope so."

She looked at the book, smiling slightly. "I'll do it with you and we'll compare?"

He nodded, almost smiling. "Sounds good."

And Steve, much to his surprise, had the same answer as Kate.

Sometimes she would even stay for dinner if Steve or his mother begged her hard enough, and most of the time, she absolutely adored it, but there had only ever been one time where dinner at the Harrington house had proven to be much more awkward than usual.

For starters, Steve's mom was absolutely wasted. She'd drunk an entire bottle of wine in the time it had taken her to cook dinner, and that was evident by the empty bottle on the kitchen counter. Kate wasn't exactly sure that Steve had noticed, but she could sense the drunkenness from a mile away: she hadn't even been able to spoon lasagna onto a plate without struggling not to cry.

That was another thing that had stuck out to Kate. She couldn't think of a time where she'd ever seen Laura Harrington even close to crying, never mind wiping the occasional tear that had leaked from her eye. She thought it was odd—she didn't know that she could even show emotion.

Kate figured something terrible had happened. She tried to cue Steve in on it, but he wasn't paying attention. Currently, he was much too focused on his mother's lasagna.

"Are you enjoying your dinner?" she asked softly, watching the two kids eat.

While Kate nodded simply and gave a tightlipped smile, Steve tried to quickly swallow his mouthful of lasagna. "Yeah, Mom, it's really good."

She laughed hollowly, looking at her near-empty wine glass as she traced the rim of it. "I'm glad someone appreciates what I do for you." She took a shaky breath. "I have you, at least, right?"

Steve's eyebrows furrowed together instinctively. "Yeah?"

She took another sip of her wine, taking it all in one chug and slamming it a bit too harshly on the table, making both Steve and Kate jump. "Steven, I want you to listen to me."

"Yeah?" he asked, growing increasingly worried.

"I don't ever wanna see you marry a woman that you won't commit to."

Steve hesitated, not knowing what to think. "What?"

She sighed, tracing her empty wine glass with her finger again. "Don't marry a girl just because she comes from a good Catholic family with money, or because she's a... a pretty twenty-year-old, or because she..." Laura paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Don't... ever treat a woman that way. You hear me?"

"Mom, what are you talking about?" Steve asked, but Kate kicked his ankle, almost as if she were trying to be discreet.

She'd already figured out that Mr. Harrington had had an affair with his wife.

Kate hadn't been surprised, really. He'd never truly been affectionate with his wife. Even in the family photos they had posted around the house the man had always seemed stiff, standoffish. Now, though, the perfect family portrait Laura had worked so hard to paint was now being burned to a crisp within a matter of seconds.

Laura chuckled solemnly. "You father's decided his secretary's a much more suitable lover than I ever was." Whenever Steve's lips parted slightly, his eyes being the only part of his face that showed how absolutely crushed he was, she sighed softly. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you about that, Steven, but I... you needed to know what type of man your father is."

Steve shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "No. No... No way. Dad wouldn't... He wouldn't do that."

"I'm afraid he already has, sweetie."

He stood up from the table. "No, you're... you're lying! Stop lying to me!" Before Laura could say anything else to him, he looked at Kate for only a second, his eyes watering. Without another word, he shook his head and ran to go upstairs.

"Steven!" Laura called, but it was no use. She sighed whenever she heard his door slam. "Kate, dear, are you not hungry?"

Kate looked down at her plate worriedly. She'd barely even picked at her meal. "N–No ma'am, this is good. I... I love lasagna."

She smiled softly, standing up from the table. "You have a nice night, Kate."

She only watched as Laura walked into the kitchen again, presumably opening another bottle of wine. Whenever the coast was clear, she grabbed Steve and her plates, quickly taking them up the stairs and to Steve's room. She hesitated to knock on the door, but eventually caved—the plates were getting heavy and she was much too scared to see what Steve's mother would say about her taking the lasagna upstairs.

"Hey, Steve? Please open the door," she said softly, knocking again whenever he didn't answer. "I brought your lasagna."

Without another moment's hesitation, he opened the door, quickly grabbing the plates from her and pulling her inside. He locked the door, putting the two plates on the desk without a moment's hesitation, pointing to it. "What the hell's that?"

"You didn't get to finish it before..." Kate trailed off, shaking her head. "Are you okay?"

Steve buried his face in his hands, running his hands through his hair. "Nope. No. Absolutely not. This is not happening right now. Nope."

"Steve..."

"No! You don't... You don't get it, okay? My mom... My dad, they..." He groaned, rubbing his face again. His eyes began to water as his voice cracked. "He wouldn't do that. He... He wouldn't, he—"

"Steve, hey," Kate said, grabbing him by the arms. "Listen to me. It's okay."

He tried to fight his tears, but instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cave in. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry—

"Sit down, okay?" she said softly, pulling him to his bed. "Lay down and you'll feel better. Promise."

"Okay," he said softly, wiping his eyes once as he laid down.

Kate sat down next to him, scratching his arm softly the way he liked. She held his hand, let him lean against her, and she didn't judge him whenever the occasional tear slipped out. That was a horrible way to find out that your father didn't love your mother anymore, if he ever had at all, and it wasn't any fun to see your mother that way, either. Everything had all come crashing down at once, and that certainly wasn't the way that he deserved to find out about that.

"Kathy?" he finally asked.

"Yeah?"

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat, turning to look at her. "When did you realize your parents didn't love each other anymore?"

She sighed. What a loaded question. Kate didn't know when they had stopped loving each other exactly, but she knew when she'd realized it. It had been the first day of sixth grade and, usually, her family went out to dinner together to celebrate the new school year, but Diane had opted for take-out instead, and everyone had eaten alone. It wasn't the same without Sara, and that was a fact. Or maybe it had been that Christmas when her mother and father could barely stand to be in the same room as each other because Sara was gone. She didn't think her parents had ever truly stopped loving each other: things got hard, and it wasn't any fun to love someone whenever it was hard.

Kate, however, wasn't going to tell Steve all of that.

"I don't know," she said softly, squeezing his hand for a moment. "After Sara... After she was gone, I guess."

He took a shaky breath, squeezing her hand back. "Why doesn't my dad love my mom?"

"I... I don't think that's it," Kate said, frowning slightly. "People are shitty. They do shitty things to people they love sometimes." She paused, almost thinking of what to say. "He's still an asshole, though. I just... I just don't think he simply stopped loving your mom. I think he's just an asshole."

"Really?"

"Yeah. For sure."

He choked on a sob, burying his face even further into her shoulder as she pulled him in tighter to her. They sat like that for a long time, and it wasn't until the slam of his front door that Steve immediately stopped his crying, pulling himself off of Kate and wiping his face. Whenever he looked over to his desk again and at the plates of half-eaten lasagna, his stomach started doing somersaults.

"We have to get that out, like, right now. My parents, they... they'll freak out if they see that in here."

"Let's finish it real quick and then we can bring the plates down later so they can't hear us," Kate offered. "We can stack them in your chair and tuck them in underneath the desk until then."

He nodded once, and they quickly feasted on what was left of their dinner as Steve's parents began to argue about the affair.

Kate always went to his basketball games, too. She didn't ever work whenever he had a game, always making sure to schedule off two weeks in advance or slip Jamie a few dollars just to swap shifts with her.

It wasn't that Steve was good at basketball, but he wasn't the worst either. Kate didn't even like the game that much. She just knew it meant a lot to him there to just have someone there supporting him, even if it was just her.

The game today was getting close, much too close for comfort. The only reason why Steve was even playing right now was only because Chris Novak had gotten the flu and Steve was the only replacement available. Kate didn't know if he was more excited or horrified that he was off of the bench at first, but he very quickly proved that he knew what he was doing. In fact, he was better than Novak.

He still wasn't the best, though, and that was something that Kate was actively ignoring.

"Come on, Steve!" she shouted, pretending she could hear him. "Come on, you've got this!"

"He can't hear you, sweetie," Jessica said, somewhat annoyedly. She looked to the scoreboard whenever the opposing team landed the basketball inside the hoop again. "Jesus Christ, it's sixty-one and sixty and we've got twenty seconds left. We're losing."

"Jess, quit, no we're not," Kate said, trying to find Steve again. "We've got this."

Whenever her eyes landed on Steve again, she found he didn't look so hot. His hair was pressed to his forehead, and his uniform was completely soaked with sweat. She didn't know who exactly would be doing his laundry, but she would hate to be that person. He looked over to her, almost as if he could feel her gaze on him, and he smiled, shrugging once. He was doing it.

Kate was so proud of him. She knew how hard he'd worked to even get onto the Varsity team at all, being the only freshman that even dare grace the bench with his ass. He trained hard every day for this moment, no matter whether he had practice or not. She couldn't believe it, but he'd done it.

That moment was quickly short-lived, however, whenever Steve accidentally caught the ball.

Five seconds left.

"Holy shit, Steve, go!"

He didn't think twice about it as he ran across the court, dribbling the ball as he heard the opposing team trailing behind him. The guy following him might've been taller than him, but Steve was faster.

Two seconds left.

Steve was as close as he could possibly be to the net, quickly throwing it into the hoop before the guy pulled at him from the other team, he could only watch in horror as it circled around the rim. Right as the clock turned to zero, though, the ball fell through the hoop, and the score became sixty-two-sixty-one.

Hawkins had won.

Steve had made the winning shot.

Kate couldn't stop herself from rushing to the court with everyone else, immediately running to Steve. "Holy shit, dude! Talk about a damn play!"

"You saw that shit?" Steve asked excitedly, still trying to catch his breath. "I—"

"Harrington!" one of the seniors shouted, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good play, man! Come here!"

He shrugged whenever they walked away. "Jesus Christ, this is actually happening."

Kate laughed, swatting his arm. "Dude, go! Jankovic's, like, very obviously trying to get you to go with you."

He frowned for half a second. "You aren't coming?"

"Nah, don't worry about me, I'll be with Jess," she said simply. Whenever he didn't move, she laughed, shoving him in the direction of the seniors. "Dude, just go."

As he walked off with a dopey smile on his face, Kate had no idea just how hard he would party that night.

By the time summer would roll around, though, Kate would be absolutely miserable, and Steve would be absolutely thrilled. Summer, of course, was Kate's least favorite season.

For her, it brought another birthday, too much time spent with her father, and too many days spent by the pool. Kate had opened up her availability at work, mostly because she didn't know if she could handle spending any more time with Steve, Tommy, and Carol. She'd started working much more, and whenever she wasn't at work, she was at Steve's house, or maybe the public pool to bring him lunch.

Kate hadn't gone back to the public pool since Chris Jacobs stood her up on what would've been their third date. She was embarrassed, and she felt used. She didn't want to see him ever again if it meant she never went back to that place, never visited Steve at his place of work again.

It was days like this, though, where Kate questioned what she was doing. It was the middle of July, nearly a hundred degrees outside, and she was sitting at the pool with Steve. Tommy and Carol hadn't shown up yet, and that was evident by the music that played on the radio: he'd let her pick a station rather than just pick the pop music station he played when Tommy and Carol were around.

Currently, Kate and Steve were both sitting in pool chairs, both slathered in sunscreen and wearing sunglasses and bathing suits. She was reading a book, and Steve was smoking a cigarette.

"Jacobs is an idiot," Steve finally said after taking a drag on his cigarette. "You're way too good for him."

"No, but I appreciate the sentiment," Kate replied, flipping to the next page of her book. "I'm, uh... it's cool."

"No, it's not, okay?" He put the cigarette out in the ashtray next to his chair. "I should kill him for what that asshole did—"

"Steven, dude, chill," she said, scratching the back of her neck. "I'm fine. He graduated this year anyway. I'll probably never have to see him again after August."

"Still a piece of shit."

Kate stifled a laugh. "Okay. If that makes you feel better."

He looked over at her, trying to read her body language: she truly did seem unbothered by it all. Whenever he saw her face, though, he took in a sharp breath. "Kathy, your nose is getting red."

"Okay?"

"No, so are your shoulders. You're gonna complain about sunburn if you don't put on more sunscreen."

"Oh my God, I'll be fine—"

"Nope," he said, standing up out of his chair. "Come on. Sit up. I don't wanna hear your whining tomorrow about how everything hurts because you didn't want to listen to me."

She sighed, moving forward in her seat and tying her hair into a high bun. Kate felt him put his hands on her shoulders as he sat down, his legs splitting the pool chair. He rubbed the squeezed-out sunscreen in his hands, rubbing it together to warm it up. Whenever he started to massage it into her shoulders, she tensed up.

"I tried to not make it so cold."

"Still freezing, thank you."

He scoffed. "I tried, okay?"

"Not good enough."

Steve stifled a laugh, working to rub it in. Whenever the sunscreen was rubbed in enough, he stood up and dabbed the rest on her nose, leaving a white streak on her nose.

"Oh my God, Steve, what the hell!"

He giggled whenever she threw her book down impulsively, losing her page. Whenever she rubbed it in all over her face, using both of her hands to do so, then rubbed them annoyedly against her legs. Whenever he saw the look in her eyes, the glint of anger, he widened his eyes slightly, sticking his hands out to her in surrender. "Okay, you're not actually mad, are you?"

"You could've gotten it on my book."

"I could've just got you another one?"

She squeezed sunscreen onto her fingers, walking toward him and looking above his head for only a second. "I think you need to reapply, Steven."

"Jesus, please, no," he said, holding a hand out to her in surrender and the other shielding his hair. He took a few steps back, inching toward the pool. "Not the hair."

"Come here."

He looked at her in horror for a second, nearing the edge of the pool. Whenever she was no more than a foot away from him, he panicked and grabbed her by the waist, jumping into the pool with her in tow. She screamed whenever she got picked up off her feet, the glob of sunscreen flying off of her fingers. When she came up for air, Steve had already been floating at the top, laughing at her, and she pushed his head back under the water, cutting off his giggling.

Kate swam over to the ladder, starting to pull herself out of the pool whenever she looked back at him in the water. He still hadn't come back up, and the bubbles that he'd presumably been blowing out had stopped coming to the surface.

Her eyebrows furrowed together, a pit starting to grow in her stomach. "Steve?"

Nothing.

"Steve, cut it out!"

Whenever he didn't answer again, still not coming up, she dove back into the pool from the ladder. She grabbed him by the shoulders under the water, pulling him to the surface. Before she could try to drag him out of the pool, however, he started wheezing he was laughing so hard.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kate said, slapping him on the shoulder. "I hate you."

He only laughed in response.

Lounging by the pool wasn't the only thing they ever did over the summer. They also liked to go see movies, even though their taste was almost completely different from each other. Whenever Kate and Steve walked out of the movie theatre, they both had completely different reactions to the movie they'd decided to go see this time, that movie being Risky Business.

"Dude, that was awesome!" Steve said, holding the door open for her as she walked out. "I'm so glad you made me go see that. Genius idea, that guy had."

"Yeah, and I definitely regret it," she replied, shaking her head slightly. "That shit was terrible."

"What? Are you crazy? That was one of the best movies we've seen in a long time!"

"No, Steven, you only enjoyed the movie because Rebecca De Mornay took her top off, like, multiple times," she said bitterly.

"Yeah, and?" Steve said, almost like there wasn't a problem in the world with agreeing with her.

"It's like your Fast Times argument all over again. A movie is not good just because there are boobs in it, Steven."

"She's hot, Kathy. That's, like, a completely normal reason to like the movie. Besides, if I didn't know any better, I'm pretty sure you enjoyed looking at that one guy the whole movie."

Even though she knew exactly who he was talking about, she would not give him the benefit of knowing that she knew exactly who he was talking about. Tom Cruise, even though he had never been in a movie before, had certainly caught Kate's eye as she attempted to absorb any of the plot that might've been there. He was no Harrison Ford, but he certainly did make the movie viewing experience better than it would've been without him. That was the only reason why she was putting Risky Business above Fast Times: at least the guy was hot, too.

"That is such a bullshit argument," she said, keeping her face turned from him.

Steve, however, walked in front of her. "No way. I was just being funny, but you actually liked that guy? No way!"

"I'm... not having this conversation with you."

"Kathy, dude, you cannot just cut the conversation off there. I gotta know more here. Are you just saying the movie was bad because you weren't the one that was—"

"Oh my God, you're disgusting!" she shouted, her face completely red as Steve chuckled. "Please, for the love of God, just shut up."

He tried stopping his laughter, pressing his lips together. "Okay."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. Got it. Don't want to talk about it."

"And even if I did, it's none of your business which guys I find attractive, especially not in movies."

He rolled his eyes as he opened his car door. "Oh, come on, that's so not fair. You know all the girls I like in movies."

"Yeah, that's because you like just about all of them," Kate argued as she got in his car. "Phoebe Cates, Farrah Fawcett, Carrie Fisher, Kathleen Turner... I mean, I could just keep going—"

Whenever Steve sat down in the driver's seat, he stuck up his hands in surrender, moving to start the car. "All right, I get it, I like girls. Your point?"

"You're vocal about it. I, however, am not."

"Says you. I see the way you look at Harrison Ford," he said, cranking the engine. "Your eyes get little hearts in them. It's gross."

Kate rolled her eyes as the music started to play. "Shut up."

As they drove off from the movie theater, Kate had no idea how much Steve really did love that movie. That movie, as well as the pretty girl in it, would never hold a flame to her.

[pickled-pear964]

The follow up post I promised :D

(About the Katydid + Malachite thing) Also I left off in Malachite's POV, so we'll continue from there

Malachite found it rather strange that his sister Leanne preferred to write with her claws.

For one thing, it was messy, and Malachite found ink-stained claws rather distasteful. Actually, Malachite wasn't fond of messy things at all. He preferred to stay in his clean, quiet room.

During dinner, Leanne was the only one home with him. His parents had left for their own dinner party at one of their neighbor's place.

Malachite's parents, Bullet Ant and Pollen, were always at dinner parties. They were outgoing but extremely strict, and had their own ideas about what HiveWing society should look like.

"There's leftovers on the table. Melina and Beetle are coming over." Leanne said drily, not bothering to look up from her history textbook.

Malachite sighed and grabbed a piece of fried Zebra.

"Uh, did Mother and Father say which section they went to for the dinner party?"

Leanne groaned. "Brother, you really need to listen more." Leanne paused, studying Malachite as if she was expecting him to grow an extra brain and suddenly go, "OHHHH YEAH I REMEMBER NOW!"

Malachite continued to stare at her blankly. Leanne rolled her eyes. "You know that dragon, Katydoof or something? They went to her section."

"Katydoof? Malachite asked, puzzled. "Well, I don't know if that's her actual name, but it's not like I'm gonna remember." Leanne turned away from him and continued to read her textbook.

Malachite knew it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Did they go to the section across from us or next to us?"

Leanne sighed heavily. "Across, I think. Go find out yourself, and stop bothering me."

Malachite stared at the section across from then curiously, and looked up at the hive walls, wondering if the rain would ever stop.

-3-

Katydid cringed at the haughty HiveWings, who had invaded her section and were now guffawing at something her father had said.

Her parents were hosting a Dinner party for the first time ever, and although it was going well, Katydid despised that fact that she had to cancel all the plans she had with her friends, and the fact that she was dragged out of the library forcefully by Cadelle, her mother.

Katydid only had the next day to finish her Hive project, and she hadn't even started on it.

She was most certainly not going to finish it, and she was already preparing herself for a scolding from Miss Brigid and her mother.

Katydid didn't really like dinner parties, where the entire point of them was to arrive, show off, pretend to laugh at jokes and then bring tons of leftover food for the next day, in case you were too lazy to cook.

The main reason she disliked them was because you absolutely had to be over-polite for at least 3 hours, in which Katydid was horrible at being polite.

Well, at least, that was what Cadelle had said.

Speaking of Cadelle, she was currently serving the guests some grilled gazelle and a strange, red soup.

GUESS WHAT!

You have to WAIT! AGAIN!

For another follow up post :D

Anyways, keep slaying :P

[triviallytrue]

Hi, first of all I wanted to say that I really like your blog, I read it like the morning paper without following you for months, and when I ended up following it didn't stop being interesting.

I have a learning-Python-related question, let me know if you already answered similar ones - I didn't find them but that doesn't mean much.

I have absolutely no knowledge of programming, my computer skills are restricted to XML and executing scripts other people made. I'd like to learn Python so I could make my own scripts, but I don't have much free time and energy, so it's unlikely I would spend more than 2-3 hours a week on it.

So I'd like to know if that would be enough to actually learn it, or if I would be so slow I would stagnate at the basics, and also if you happen to have a recommendation for where to start given those constraints.

Thank you and have a nice day.

glad you like the blog!

all of this depends heavily on what you want your scripts to actually do - some things are much easier than other things. but certainly, i don't see any reason why you couldn't eventually get there with a couple hours of work a week, it just might take you a while.

with absolutely no knowledge of programming, your first step is going to be learning the basics - variables, loops, conditionals, etc. there are tons of good intro-level sources on the internet, and i recommend you pick whatever medium suits you best. there are youtube videos, textbooks, online courses, online exercises - it's all out there, and it's all at least decent.

if you want help finding a specific type of resource, feel free to send an ask. personally, it's been a while since i learned the basics and i made the mistake of learning in java, so i won't have much actionable advice, but a ton of CS people follow me and usually someone will have a good recommendation.

once you have the bare bones, the question then becomes what exactly you want your scripts to do. as you get more specialized, knowledge gets a little harder to find, and if you hit a wall me (or more likely someone who follows me) probably has a resource that could help.

[motownfiction]

18, 21, 30, 9, 1, 10, 7

1. describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

relatively low stakes, more about character development and relationships than about a twisted plot, takes place in a bygone era.

7. share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

this is from a vignette in goodbye, yellow brick road about daniel running into steph at sam's headstone:

They stare at the headstone for just a little while longer. There’s so much Daniel wants to say to her. That he’s sorry they lost touch. That he knows why they did. That he’s sorry Steph and Sam never found their way back to each other. He wants to say all of it, but he doesn’t want to overstep. He’s not sure how you talk to somebody like this – somebody who used to take up a corner of your life, whose stray hairs wound up in chapter four of your World History textbook, whose pizza order and landline you couldn’t forget if you tried. Somebody who lives in the same county she always did – the same county you always did – and is still gone.

i like it because it describes a very real phenomenon: missing someone who was once so close to you, their hair shed onto your belongings. this is someone you used to know and love so well, but now, everything about them is unfamiliar to you. different. but even underneath all that newness and unfamiliarity, you can still see the person you used to be so close to. and sometimes (which is true in daniel's case), you bite the bullet and reestablish that closeness.

9. which fic has been the hardest to write?

out of the mini series, it's definitely been goodbye, yellow brick road. i think that's partially because sam isn't in it to punch things up with music and humor, which the rest of the characters certainly feel (and grieve). i think, also, there's the element of "obviously every beat in this story is predictable" because it's a very typical grief narrative, so every time i write another vignette, i'm like, "here's a question. is this worth it?" luckily, i'm almost done, anyway.

10. which fic has been the easiest to write?

again, from the mini series: dance hall days. it was the shortest and the silliest. basically, all i had to do was be cute for sixteen installments. the other two mini series have been significantly longer (and at least a little more serious) than that.

18. do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

for a standalone vignette, no. that just comes out like romantic poetry (though i do some light-ish editing before actually posting, lol). for the vignettes in a mini series, there is a little more planning. when i start one vignette, i'll have a note underneath it that says what the next vignette should be: which characters we should connect with, what decisions they should make, what disagreements they should have, etc. i try to make sure i'm balancing the major players in a series with some of the supporting ones so that it feels like the reader (if anyone is reading them) isn't overwhelmed with big conflict after big conflict. i also want to offer a diverse array of feelings and perspectives, so in the case of goodbye, yellow brick road, that means hearing from smaller players, like carrie and cordelia, every now and then. to sum up: yes, i have little outlines for mini series, and these are the things that go into them.

21. how many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

once or twice. these are not big long fic chapters like i used to write -- they're small, low-stakes vignettes that are really easy to self-contain. so i read them over once or twice and occasionally make good changes, but it's not the same as it was before.

30. do you accept prompts?

obviously! but usually they come from a prompt list, and i have you (et.al, where applicable) send numbers you want to see from that list i already vetted. i'm not sure if i'd fulfill a prompt i didn't reblog as an option, though. it would depend on what it was and if it was in my general wheelhouse!