#html validation

[thecommoncoder]

How To Validate HTML Code – What You NEED To Know!

NEW VIDEO UP! Today's video is all about HTML validation. We'll talk about what HTML validation is, why it's important, and demonstrate several ways we can validate our HTML code to ensure that it is compliant with the latest web standards. Enjoy! https://youtu.be/fgaJVqjOe7w?si=iixRDzqVmvcqZQJK

[sexywhinny]

be my other half?

[jihnari]

there's nothing quite like using ancient code with all the example images broken and for some god forsaken reason they keep putting everything in tables

[gagande]

PureCode AI review | Valid HTML documents

Other settings ensure the presence of a title tag within the head tag, fulfilling a requirement for valid HTML documents. Some advanced formatter options can flag the use of inline scripts and styles, promoting separation of concerns.

[newcodesociety]

Conform is a type-safe form validation library utilizing web fundamentals to progressively enhance HTML Forms with full support for server frameworks like Remix and Next.js.

[sudarshanvis]

Password Strength Check Validation in HTML CSS & JavaScript

[gocodesolution]

Password Strength Check Validation in HTML CSS & JavaScript

[devhubspot]

Password Strength Check Validation in HTML CSS & JavaScript

[devhubspot010]

Password Strength Check Validation in HTML CSS & JavaScript

[tigmatemplate]

AI Writer Services HTML Landing Page Template

Are you ready to revolutionize your AI writing services? Look no further than "Writey" - the ultimate AI Writer Services HTML Landing Page Template that combines stunning design with powerful functionality. Whether you're a content creator, or copywriter, or run an AI writing service, Writey has got you covered.

Buy Now:

[kuiinncedes]

bruh like

[niennanir]

Listen to your elders

So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.

So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.

But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?

In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.

Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download

Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 

No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.

Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife

You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.

Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:

use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.

Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.

Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.

You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.

Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour

In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock

Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)

Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.

Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine

Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.

Voila:

I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.

The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.

If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 

[apod]

2025 May 4

Spin up of a Supermassive Black Hole Illustration Credit: Robert Hurt, NASA/JPL-Caltech

Explanation: How fast can a black hole spin? If any object made of regular matter spins too fast -- it breaks apart. But a black hole might not be able to break apart -- and its maximum spin rate is really unknown. Theorists usually model rapidly rotating black holes with the Kerr solution to Einstein's General Theory of Relativity, which predicts several amazing and unusual things. Perhaps its most easily testable prediction, though, is that matter entering a maximally rotating black hole should be last seen orbiting at near the speed of light, as seen from far away. This prediction was tested by NASA's NuSTAR and ESA's XMM satellites by observing the supermassive black hole at the center of spiral galaxy NGC 1365. The near light-speed limit was confirmed by measuring the heating and spectral line broadening of nuclear emissions at the inner edge of the surrounding accretion disk. Pictured here is an artist's illustration depicting an accretion disk of normal matter swirling around a black hole, with a jet emanating from the top. Since matter randomly falling into the black hole should not spin up a black hole this much, the NuSTAR and XMM measurements also validate the existence of the surrounding accretion disk.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap250504.html

[kitkatt0430]

Welp, I've been using external methods of auto-backing up my tumblr but it seems like it doesn't do static pages, only posts.

So I guess I'll have some manual backing up to do later

Still, it's better than nothing and I'm using the official tumblr backup process for my smaller blogs so hopefully that'll net the static pages and direct messages too. But. My main - starstruckpurpledragon - 'backed up' officially but was undownloadable; either it failed or it'd download a broken, unusable, 'empty' zip. So *shrugs* I'm sure I'm not the only one who is trying to back up everything at once. Wouldn't be shocked if the rest of the backups are borked too when I try to download their zips.

There are two diff ways I've been externally backing up my tumblr.

TumblThree - This one is relatively straight forward in that you can download it and start backing up immediately. It's not pretty, but it gets the job done. Does not get static pages or your direct message conversations, but your posts, gifs, jpegs, etc are all there. You can back up more than just your own blog(s) if you want to as well.

That said, it dumps all your posts into one of three text files which makes them hard to find. That's why I say it's 'not pretty'. It does have a lot of options in there that are useful for tweaking your download experience and it's not bad for if you're unfamiliar with command line solutions and don't have an interest in learning them. (Which is fair, command line can be annoying if you're not used to it.) There are options for converting the output into nicer html files for each post but I haven't tried them and I suspect they require command line anyway.

I got my blogs backed up using this method as of yesterday but wasn't thrilled with the output. Decided that hey, I'm a software engineer, command line doesn't scare me, I'll try this back up thing another way. Leading to today's successful adventures with:

TumblrUtils - This one does take more work to set up but once it's working it'll back up all your posts in pretty html files by default. It does take some additional doing for video/audio but so does TumblThree so I'll probably look into it more later.

First, you have to download and install python. I promise, the code snake isn't dangerous, it's an incredibly useful scripting language. If you have an interest in learning computer languages, it's not a bad one to know. Installing python should go pretty fast and when it's completed, you'll now be able to run python scripts from the command line/terminal.

Next, you'll want to actually download the TumblrUtils zip file and unzip that somewhere. I stuck mine on an external drive, but basically put it where you've got space and can access it easily.

You'll want to open up the tumblr_backup.py file with a text editor and find line 105, which should look like: ''' API_KEY = '' '''

So here's the hard part. Getting a key to stick in there. Go to the tumblr apps page to 'register' an application - which is the fancy way of saying request an API. Hit the register an application button and, oh joy. A form. With required fields. *sigh* All the url fields can be the same url. It just needs to be a valid one. Ostensibly something that interfaces with tumblr fairly nicely. I have an old wordpress blog, so I used it. The rest of the fields should be pretty self explanatory. Only fill in the required ones. It should be approved instantly if everything is filled in right.

And maybe I'll start figuring out wordpress integration if tumblr doesn't die this year, that'd be interesting. *shrug* I've got too many projects to start a new one now, but I like learning things for the sake of learning them sometimes. So it's on my maybe to do list now.

Anywho, all goes well, you should now have an 'OAuth Consumer Key' which is the API key you want. Copy that, put in between the empty single quotes in the python script, and hit save.

Command line time!

It's fairly simple to do. Open your command line (or terminal), navigate to where the script lives, and then run: ''' tumblr_backup.py <blog_name_here> '''

You can also include options before the blog name but after the script filename if you want to get fancy about things. But just let it sit there running until it backs the whole blog up. It can also handle multiple blogs at once if you want. Big blogs will take hours, small blogs will take a few minutes. Which is about on par with TumblThree too, tbh.

The final result is pretty. Individual html files for every post (backdated to the original post date) and anything you reblogged, theme information, a shiny index file organizing everything. It's really quite nice to dig through. Much like TumbleThree, it does not seem to grab direct message conversations or static pages (non-posts) but again it's better than nothing.

And you can back up other blogs too, so if there are fandom blogs you follow and don't want to lose or friends whose blogs you'd like to hang on to for your own re-reading purposes, that's doable with either of these backup options.

I've backed up basically everything all over again today using this method (my main is still backing up, slow going) and it does appear to take less memory than official backups do. So that's a plus.

Anyway, this was me tossing my hat into the 'how to back up your tumblr' ring. Hope it's useful. :D

[lovendeep-thoughts]

i think he knows

This AU is inspired by the same title by Taylor Swift.

pairing: Caleb x feminine character / feminine reader

word count: 5k

💌: Hi again! I hope I captured Caleb’s characterization well. This one is pure fluff. I hope you enjoy it! < The 'Read More' feature doesn’t work with HTML. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Please forgive me. >

I had just finished studying. I propped my legs up onto my desk (still a mess of scattered research drafts and empty sparkling water cans) and tilted my chair back onto its two rear legs. A long sigh escaped me as I stared up at the ceiling, letting the weight of everything sink in.

I had finally transcribed, translated, and formatted ten interviews for language validation. Just a few more months and I’d be free from this project and subject. No more dealing with that one infuriating teacher (╬▔皿▔)╯.

I closed my eyes and sighed deeper. My shoulders felt light, like the stress had been physical all along. Maybe it was. I’d barely slept, though all I did was sit in front of a computer and a laptop all afternoon. I’m becoming a couch potato at this point. At least my skin isn’t breaking out. I’m only breaking down. You win some, you lose some.

The top of my phone lit up with a Messenger notification. I leaned forward with a thud as the chair slammed back onto all four legs and grabbed my phone.

I swallowed hard when I read the last message, and my heart skipped Sixteenth Avenue over the idea that he could be there later. I gently set the phone down and spun my chair around to collapse onto my bed.

I buried my face in my pillow and squealed before I could stop it, followed by uncontrollable giggles; the kind that bubbles up from your chest when something is too good to be real. I kicked my legs, sending my slippers flying across the room.

I promptly lifted my head, realizing how utterly ridiculous I must’ve looked. I barely knew the guy. We only met at a coffee shop. He didn’t have anywhere to sit that one evening, so I offered him the seat across from me.

And let me tell you. The scream I almost let out when I heard his voice. Ugh!

Okay, yes! He’s hot. I noticed that before I offered the seat. His name is Caleb, and he is drop-dead gorgeous, like he could model for a streetwear brand or something. He was wearing a black jacket with blue and orange accents. When he took it off and slung it over the chair, I had to look away so fast. His tank top was paper-thin, and I could see the sculpt of his abs through it. I also *ahem* saw his nipples BUT I’m not talking about that. Nu-uh ✌(-‿-)✌. I’m no pervert.

Anyway, it wasn’t his looks that got me first. It was his soft, lyrical smile, a little shy, but with this mischievous undertone, and the playful warmth in his voice. We started with small talk: names, schools, dream colleges, future plans. Then I got way too comfortable and asked him what motivates him to stay fit.

I wasn’t flirting! I swear! I was just curious. I’ve been on a weight loss journey myself ever since I gained 10 kg back in 7th grade from all the stress. I just wanted to know how he kept going, you know? I want a pretty girl summer too.

It wasn’t until he laughed that I realized how personal and coquettish that question sounded.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…uhm…I was serious!” I waved my hands in front of my face, then just slapped them onto the sides of my face to hide my embarrassment.

And God, that laugh. It was rich and warm and way too easy to drown in. I felt a strange heat in my chest, right where my heart is. I peeked through my fingers and saw his bangs shift as he laughed, his eyes catching the light from the hanging lamp just right, and his head tilted back with ease. It was like time froze and the whole coffee shop melted away. There I was, staring at him, hands now clinging to my skirt like it could keep me grounded.

I shook my head to stop spiraling yet again about that night and reached lazily for my phone to text my friend.

I can come. See you in 20 minutes.

Because I’d need those 20 minutes to pick a dress and put on makeup—not just to cover up how miserable I’d been lately, but maybe catch his attention again, if he’s miraculously there.

I slipped into a simple pink layered off-shoulder dress that floated just above my knees, paired with white heels. I left my hair down and fastened a delicate white floral lace choker around my neck. I’m left with the final dilemma: my bag. It was between my off-white quilted one or the red faux leather apple-shaped bag. Caleb once shared how much he likes apples. It's something we had in common.

I didn’t want to seem desperate just in case he happened to be there tonight… but the apple bag was too cute to pass up.

Apple bag it is.

I texted Julia to let her know I was ready, then gave myself a final spritz of perfume before stepping out of the apartment complex.

The cold hit me the second I left the building, and I mentally cursed myself for forgetting a jacket. But the thought of going all the way back up alone felt more exhausting than the chill. I don't mind it, but I hope I don’t get sick tomorrow.

I told Julia I’d wait outside the coffee shop if I got there first, and I did. I used my phone as a distraction to pass the time, though my eyes kept flicking up and down the street.

A tap on my shoulder startled me mid-tweet about how peaceful midnight air can be.

I turned, and there he was.

Two deep, indigo eyes that seemed to hold entire galaxies in them. My breath was caught in my throat.

“Hi there,” Caleb spoke, a flicker of surprise dancing in his voice. “Didn’t expect to see you here this late. Do you... remember me?”

I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. “Ah, yeah. Caleb. Hi! It’s nice to see you again,” I tried not to sound breathless.

He stepped back a bit and looked me up and down with a small, amused smile.

“You look good,” he said. “What’s the occasion, little apple?”

My cheeks flushed instantly at that nickname. “My friend convinced me to go out. I’ve been cooped up in my room for a week.” I laughed nervously, covering my mouth with the back of one hand while my eyes dropped to the pavement.

He chuckled with that rich sound I remembered all too well. “It’s pretty cold out here. Do you mind waitin’ for your friend inside?”

I nodded, clutching my bag a little tighter. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

The bell chimed as we stepped into the shop, warmth washing over us. Caleb headed straight for a quiet corner booth and I followed, asking Julia for an update.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pull out a chair and pause behind it, waiting. I glanced up from my phone, and he smiled.

“Would you like to sit here?”

My eyes fluttered, perfectly in time with the little flip my heart did. He’s such a gentleman, it almost feels unreal. “Thank you.” I caught the soft rise of my cheeks from my own line of sight.

He waited for me to sit before walking around to take the seat across from me. Julia texted back that she was just around the corner, and I replied quickly:

Already inside. Prince Charming showed up.

Caleb looked over at me. “What do you want to order? My treat. We didn’t even get coffee last time since we were too busy talking.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I insist.”

My eyes fell and scanned the menu like I didn’t already know my go-to. “Just an iced black Americano, then.”

“Would you like a cake?”

I hesitated. I’ve been watching my calories lately, but… I hadn’t eaten all day. One slice wouldn’t hurt, I guess.

“How about... a strawberry shortcake?”

His eyes beamed. “Good choice. I’ll get a latte and lemon drizzle.”

He turned to call over a server, just as Julia walked in.

“Julia!” I waved her down, and her face lit up when she saw me.

“It’s been so long!” she grinned, hugging me quickly before sliding in beside me.

“I know. Glad you managed to drag me out.” I rolled my eyes with a grin.

Her gaze flicked to Caleb, then back to me. Her lips curled with realization. “I gather you’re Caleb?”

He chuckled. “Seems like I don’t need to introduce myself. And you must be Julia?”

She nodded, and then, not so discreetly, grabbed my knee under the table—the ‘we are SO talking about this later’ grab.

“I’ve heard a lot about you from her,” Caleb said.

“I hope she left out the embarrassing bits.” She side-eyed me and I averted my gaze.

Julia laughed and introduced herself. After a while, she turned to fish something out of her sling bag. Looking for her phone, probably. Then she angled it toward me.

“Bad time to ditch you?” she asked with a suspiciously innocent look.

“What do you mean? You just got here.” I raised a brow. She wants to leave me right now? How cruel.

“Look at what my boyfriend texted me,” she said.

Boyfriend?? Girl, you do not have a boyfriend.

I squinted at her screen as she held it near my face.

OMG he is sure handsome! I’m making an excuse to leave you two. I’ll be in the vinyl store just in case you need me. Have fun, sis!

I groaned. Was she seriously playing wingman right now? “You actually let your boyfriend text you like that?” I covered my mouth, trying, and failing not to laugh.

She just shrugged, totally unfazed. “He’s being dramatic. You know how he gets when I’m out with someone else.”

I shot her a look, trying to suppress a smile as she tilted her chin up, smirking at me. “That is your type though, right?”

My hand flew out to smack her thigh. “Julia!”

“What?” she said, all fake innocence, then shot a quick glance at Caleb. “Still embarrassed over that?”

Before I could answer, she stood up dramatically. “It’s getting late. Will you be alright?”

“I can handle myself.”

“I could walk her home,” Caleb offered, a little too fast like he didn’t want to seem too eager. I guess he's just like me. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Julia, whose smile turns up significantly. “Only if she’s okay with that, of course.”

Julia gave me a smug look as she backed away. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

I looked up, making my lips as curved as possible. “Sure.”

I watched her disappear out the shop window before Caleb turned back to me with a grin.

“So…” he started, his tone a low sing-song. “You have a thing for possessive guys?”

“Shut up.” I muttered.

“I’m not judging,” he said, eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Just… curious.” His gaze flicked briefly to my lips before settling back on my eyes.

I shifted in my seat, feigning nonchalance. “I just want someone to match my freak,” I shot back, tilting my head while leaning on my chair. I don't know where this confidence is coming from, but a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do.

“Oh?” His brow lifted in a slow and deliberate way. He's trying to peel back every layer of meaning in that sentence. “And how exactly does one do that?”

I crossed one leg over the other. “This kind of conversation requires drinks.”

He smirked. “But you don’t drink.”

I clicked my tongue. “Exactly.”

Our coffee and cakes arrived, saving me from having to elaborate.

“Thanks for the treat,” I said while the waiter was serving the plates on the table.

“I’d love to have dinner with you again. But maybe next time, somewhere with a little more space?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile tugging at my lips. “This is your idea of dinner?”

“Isn’t it yours too?”

“It’s midnight, Caleb.”

He laughed as I glared at him. I took my first bite of the strawberry cake and my eyes widened. “Wow,” I mumbled, covering my mouth with a closed fist. “This cake is amazing. Strawberry cake’s a hit or miss for me, but this? You have to try it!”

Without thinking, I leaned forward, holding out a forkful toward him.

Just as I realized what I was doing and started to pull back, he gently caught my wrist and leaned in, taking the bite straight from the fork.

He sat back, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. As if he didn’t leave me speechless right there and then.

“Mmm. You’re right,” he said. “It’s soft and buttery, not that weird rubbery stuff from supermarkets.”

“My thoughts too,” I said. My voice evidently faltering.

He picked up his coffee, the cup looking small in his large hand. There was something so effortlessly magnetic about him, like he wasn’t trying to impress me at all… and still somehow completely was.

And that thought had been looping in my head since that night.

We finally exchanged numbers, and we made plans for tomorrow night, the night after, and another night after that. Somehow, our late-night meetups became a routine. Each one more comforting, more thrilling than the last. He always had a way of making the night feel alive, whether it was with his ridiculous high school stories or his rambling about the new recipes he’d tried, like his latest obsession: braised pork belly and egg stir-fry.

He always insisted on walking me home, no matter how late it got. And once he reached his place, he’d text me that he got back safe and how much he enjoyed our conversation. Every time, without fail.

He’s been acting like everything I never admitted I wanted in a guy—cute and bashful one second, flirty and bold the next. But underneath it all, he’s focused, disciplined, and driven, especially when it comes to his studies and workouts.

One night, I wrapped up my part of our research paper just past 2 AM. My brain felt fried to the neurons, so I decided to get up, stretch, and take a walk to clear my head. I threw on my running shoes, tied my hair up in a lazy bun, and stepped out in a plain white tee and black leggings.

I jogged around the circle park, looping until I hit 5,000 steps. But instead of heading home, my feet took me somewhere. Where else? Of course, it was the coffee shop.

Just as I passed by, the bell above the door jingled. And out walked Caleb.

“Caleb?” I blinked. “What are you doing out here at 3 AM?”

He placed one hand on his hip and gave me that familiar teasing smirk. “I could ask you the same.”

Then he added while looking away, “Woke up late. Needed coffee if I wanna finish my assignments.”

“I just finished writing our paper.” I beamed.

“Congratulations,” he said gently. Then his hand reached out, fingers slipping into my hair as he gave it a light tousle.

“And since you mention that, let’s go somewhere to celebrate. The night is still young.”

“Must I remind you that it’s three in the morning?" I turned to him and our shoulders nearly brushed. "Where we gonna go?” I whispered in the dark.

“Here’s a clue,” he murmured softly near my ear. “Charcoal and meat.”

I smiled, and I followed him as he yapped about his day.

He’s never asked me to hang out during the day, not once. No coffee dates, no lunch breaks. It’s always been midnight strolls, secret meetups under the city lights. I’ve been waiting for him to take that next step—to finally ask me out in the open. But instead, he’s been toeing the line, flirty but vague. So tonight, I decided to take the lead.

“Have you ever thought of modeling?” I asked, biting off a piece of barbecue from the skewer.

He tilted his head, feigning to be in deep thought. “I’d rather save my face for my future lover. Wouldn’t want her getting jealous.”

I choked on a laugh at his blatant narcissistic reply. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“What can I say? It’s your fault for complimenting me too much.” He winked.

“How could I not believe it when it’s coming from a pretty girl?”

“You really know how to work your charm.”

“I only use it on one girl,” he said, eyes steady on mine. “Why’d ya ask about modeling?”

“I have a friend,” I started casually. “She needs someone to model for her parents’ photography business. Thought you might be interested.”

He rubbed his chin. “Hmm. Will you be there?”

“Of course. I want to watch a real photo shoot.”

“Then I’m in. Only if you’ll be my personal assistant for the day.”

I smirked. “Consider it done, Model Caleb.”

A few days before the main photoshoot, Caleb and I dropped by Rozanne’s house, the friend I mentioned whose parents run a photography studio. It was just a quick mock shoot to figure out which angles flatter him most, which settings match his vibe, and what kind of makeup brings out his features best. Rozanne’s parents host an annual event like this, gathering friends and familiar faces for photos they can use to promote their business.

Now, we’re just waiting for Caleb’s last afternoon class to finish.

I’m relieved he wasn’t bluffing when he said he goes to the Aerospace Academy Integrated School in Skyhaven. Its college counterpart is one of the most coveted institutions in the country: a top-tier state university with a reputation for academic excellence and a long list of successful alumni—airline pilots, Nobel Peace Prize laureates, presidents, and award-winning national artists. As hard as it is to get into the college, the integrated high school is even more competitive and stressful. Thousands of applicants fight for a handful of slots. You have to be brilliant, not just academically, but also athletically, artistically, and socially. And, unless you’re extraordinarily gifted, a few key recommendations don’t hurt either.

Knowing that Caleb is that type of student still catches me off guard. Not in a bad way—just... surprising. He’s so effortlessly cheerful, so laid-back, so light-hearted. You wouldn’t expect someone with that kind of academic pressure or background to carry themselves the way he does. Despite being orphaned and raised by a modest, middle-class family, he seems to view life with an unshakable optimism. Too good to be true, almost. He’s got the brain, the looks, and the personality. The only giveaway is the tired puffiness under his eyes when he tilts his head down. I find that kinda endearing.

We’re tucked under the waiting shed, shielding ourselves from the stubborn sun. I originally planned to wear a muted mauve-edged red cardigan to hide my shoulders, but I didn’t expect the heat and humidity to be this relentless. So now I’m sweating through a spaghetti strap sundress I bought on impulse because I couldn’t resist the butterfly print. The brown and violet wings flutter across the soft beige fabric. It’s cute, but it adds to the ten aesthetics in one closet. Istg, my wardrobe has zero consistency.

The staff are busy checking equipment, muttering to each other about the settings and lens angles. Two of them are still stuck in traffic. Meanwhile, I’m lounging beside Rozy, gossiping and clutching my shoulder bag. I packed it with everything Caleb might need for the shoot: tissues, handkerchiefs, alcohol, sanitizer, snacks, a compact mirror, safety pins—you name it. I had no idea what to bring, so I just bought everything last night in a mild panic.

Caleb arrives five minutes past 1 PM.

“Good afternoon,” he greets, meeting my eyes with a softer than usual expression.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. Please follow me.”

He leads us toward the room he reserved and offers a casual tour along the way. “This is my homeroom classroom.”

Once inside, he immediately helps the crew unpack gear and adjust the setup. After a bit of conversation with the lighting guy, he excuses himself to change into a fresh uniform and wash up.

He then approaches me, holding out a small bag.

“Can you help me?”

“Alright.”

I’m now standing just outside the boys’ comfort room, ready for his beck and call.

After a few minutes, Caleb opens the door and hands me a plastic bag with the uniform he just changed out of. I tucked it into my tote bag without question.

“Do you have soap? I forgot mine in the classroom.”

“I do. Here you go.” I handed him a new pink beauty bar. I don’t care if it’s too girly for him. It smells good, and it works.

“Do you mind stepping in? There’s no one else here, and most of my classmates have gone home. I just need help making sure I don’t get my uniform wet while I wash my face.”

“You probably should’ve done that before changing.”

Caleb leans back against the sink, giving me that sheepish grin. “My blouse was clinging to me like a koala. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Oh, right! I bought a spa headband.” After washing my hands, I dig it out of my bag and show it to him.

“Apple-themed?”

“Yeah. I saw it at the store and just knew I had to get it. Think of it as my thank-you gift for modeling and helping Rozy out.”

I pop open the facial cleanser, pump it three times onto my palm, and work it into a soft foam. Carefully, I bring my hands to his face and start massaging the lather in with slow, circular motions. His eyes never leave mine, and it’s freaking hard to meet his gaze, like it’s too gentle and too direct at the same time. I fumble for a topic to break the silence, but he beats me to it.

“What do you think of me now?”

I laugh. I'm caught off guard by his question. “Smart-ass?”

“That’s all?”

“What do you want to hear?”

“More compliments from a certain little sunny apple.” He tilts his head to the side.

“You don’t get enough of those around here?”

“They don’t mean anything when they come from just anyone.”

I shake my head in mild annoyance. “Stay still.” I rinse his face with as much care as I can, making sure not to soak the collar of his fresh uniform. Once I’m done, I dry my hands and step back to admire my handiwork. His skin looks clean and bright, even glowing.

“All done!” I clap my hands lightly. “Let’s get going.”

Once his light makeup is done, Caleb starts posing around the classroom. The concept is to romanticize the everyday life of a high-achieving student in a prestigious academic setting, still effortlessly good-looking despite the stress. The team is capturing him like a character from a movie.

I zone out for a while, my eyes trailing him as he moves through the classroom, adjusting to the photographer’s cues. He’s completely in the zone, so I take a moment to enjoy the breeze from the window and watch the trees outside sway gently.

“What are you doing, little hamster?”

He’s now behind me. Turns out they’re on a quick break.

“Just admiring your school,” I say without looking away from the trees.

He joins me at the window, leaning on the railing with his elbows. His black tie sways gently with the wind, and his hair tousles perfectly, like a scene from a coming-of-age drama.

I rummage through my tote bag and pull out a tall, rectangular container. “Want an apple?”

“You only packed one?” he asks, leaning in like he’s peeking inside my bag too.

“If you want more, there’s a supermarket nearby—”

“I meant for you,” he interrupts, flashing a grin. “Wouldn’t you rather have this apple instead?” His voice drops just slightly.

“I’m not really that hungry anyway.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “I’m fine. You probably need it more than I do.”

“Then let’s share it.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Won’t you be grossed out?”

“We’re friends now, right?”

I pause, the question lingering longer than I expect. Friends? Just like that? He says it so easily, so casually, like he doesn’t realize the weight it holds in my chest. “Right,” I finally say, keeping my voice as light as possible. I take a small bite, then wordlessly hold the apple out to him.

He doesn’t take it right away.

Instead, his eyes drift up, focused on my hair.

“Can I tie your hair into a ponytail?”

I blink. “What?”

“Your hair’s sticking to your neck. They made you look hot, but I know it’s uncomfortable.”

I snort. “That’s not how you compliment someone.”

“I’m serious.” He moves behind me before I can even answer, his fingers brushing lightly against my shoulders.

“The little girls in my neighborhood ask me to tie theirs all the time. I’m practically licensed.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” I playfully coo.

“I can be when I want to be.” His fingers sift gently through my hair, combing it back with surprising ease. It’s oddly domestic.

I can’t see his face, but I can feel the care in every motion. His touch isn’t rushed or fumbled. It’s patient. Like he’s done this a hundred times, which he did.

“There,” he says after a moment before he faces me. “All done. Let me see.”

I pull out my pocket mirror, turning it this way and that to catch a glimpse of the back. “Honestly? Better than what I usually do. Not bad, Mr. Neighbor.”

“Told you. Ponytails suit you. It makes your face look longer in a flattering way.”

He finally takes the apple from my hand. His fingers brushed against mine, barely, but I felt it. He takes a bite with his eyes locked with mine.

“It’s sweet,” he says, mouth full but still somehow adorable. He chews slowly, then smiles. “Just like you.”

For some reason, he looks like bread. I have no clue where that thought came from, but it sticks. Soft. Warm. Like fresh bread straight from the oven.

“You’re so corny.” I try to act unbothered, waving him off, but the heat rises to my cheeks anyway. I burst into laughter and had to bend down to clutch my stomach.

“Corny but correct,” he replies with that same lazy confidence, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

I look away, pretending to look beyond the trees, but I can still feel his eyes on me. He has to know. There’s no way I’ve been this obvious and he hasn’t noticed. The way I always show up extra early every night. The way I memorize the little things he says. The way I pack apples and apple-themed stuff, for crying out loud.

The rest of the day flies by as we move from location to location: the gym, the hostel, the garden, the library, the computer lab, the art studio. Sometimes I sneak photos with my phone, wanting to catch the behind-the-scenes moments. Caleb always notices and plays along by exaggerating his poses, smirking without ever looking directly into my camera. During breaks, he comes over to explain little details I’ve been curious about: the paintings in the hall, the model airplanes, the significance of the old tree where his class once camped out after pranking their teacher.

It feels like I’m on a field trip. Or maybe... a date. It makes me feel seventeen again, before the pressure of graduation deadlines and college entrance exams started swallowing me whole. Back when days felt slower and lighter. I’ve never thought of myself as a nostalgic person, but I can’t help missing that peace I had before turning eighteen. My thoughts drift. What if Caleb and I had gone to the same school all along? Would we have gravitated toward each other sooner? Would this softness between us have started years ago? Does he even like me now? I'm not sure, but I can’t have that, can I? I want him.

And I ain't gotta tell him, I think he knows.

P.S.

Rozy told me to check their studio’s website, insisting I’d be very surprised. Not even five minutes later, Caleb texted me the same thing.

You can check the website now. I hope you love it.

At that point, the way both of them were acting? I was seconds away from tearing my laptop in half from sheer anxiety. My heart was pounding like I had just been exposed on national TV.

The page finally loaded… and there it was.

Ten photos on the homepage. And both Caleb and I were in every single one of them.

I froze.

Photos of us laughing, talking, walking together. One by the fountain where I almost fell in, and Caleb caught me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist as my body tipped backward mid-stumble. The photo captured the exact moment he looked at me like the world had slowed down yet again.

Another showed me drowning in his oversized lab coat, sleeves hanging past my hands, while he doubled over laughing, saying—and I quote—“like a kitten drowning in milk.”

No wonder the day had felt suspiciously light and full of breaks. I thought it was just for good vibes. Turns out, it was all part of their plan.

I texted Caleb right away.

And he called me.

His voice has a slight urgency in it as if he couldn’t say his reason fast enough.

Well… they wanted to romanticize my life, right? That was the only way I could think of doing it. You’re cute in all the photos, so it was actually hard to pick.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

Do you hate them? I can ask the photographers to go with Plan B. But… I really hope you’re okay with it.

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜