#which was the theme of all my college application essays back when i was more naive

[michi-chelle]

the dominican-american experience of learning and reading and hearing about your family’s roots but still feeling out of place and disconnected in the DR and in dominican spaces

[secretsofthestorymakers]

Happy 10th Anniversary of Frozen!!!!! ❄️🥹🩵

Frozen came out in theaters on November 27th, 2013. I saw it opening weekend. I was 8, my sister was 5. Now it’s 2023, ten years later. I am 18 years old and in college. And I still love Frozen. I could tell dozens of stories about what Frozen has meant to me over these ten years. Some of my most vivid memories of playing with my sister were about Frozen. I remember reenacting parts of the story, changing it a bit to fit what we wanted in the moment. When Frozen II came out in 2019, I remember going to see it on opening night. I remember the entire theater laughing so hard at Olaf’s recap and all crying when Elsa froze and Olaf faded away. That Christmas, I got the Art of Frozen II, which introduced me to analysis of the story through the symbolism in Elsa and Anna’s costumes. During the pandemic, Frozen was one thing that was guaranteed to make me happy. I wrote so many analyses and creative projects during that year and into the next two when I felt alone at school. I even wrote about Frozen in my college application essay. And now it’s been announced that we get two more Frozen films; the magic will continue for years to come.

From the time I was 8, playing as Elsa and Anna with my little sister to now, the way I see the story has changed over time but my original love for it hasn’t wavered. Frozen is a story that tells us that love is stronger than fear. It shows us the power of true love in a dark, fear-stricken world. It shows many ways to love, and many ways to express it. And that is powerful.

Frozen has truly had such a huge impact on global culture and on so many of us as individuals. Its universal appeal and powerful themes contribute to the pure magic of it. For ten years, Frozen has been inspiring us, enchanting us, bringing us joy. As we move into the next decade, I know it will continue to have that magic. Frozen took the world by storm back in 2013, and hasn’t released its hold. So, for me and for everyone else who has experienced the magic of this timeless story, “let the storm rage on.”

[atlas-plugged]

When I was applying to colleges and scholarships, one of the most well-publicized scholarship competitions was the Ayn Rand Foundation's essay competitions. "Write a short essay about a 100-page book?" I thought. "What an easy scholarship application!" And that's how I read Anthem for the first and only time and let me tell you when you weren't raised by libertarians that stuff makes SIGNIFICANTLY less sense. Looking forward to learning about it from someone who understands the philosophy.

Anthem was the first Rand I ever read and honestly I loved it. It was assigned as a reading for my freshman lit class when I was 14 and it slotted in neatly beside a lot of the other dystopic fiction that gets handed to young teens. It was more mature than The Giver, longer than "Harrison Burgeron," and invited the reader into the characters' headspaces in a way that I didn't really get from Fahrenheit 451.

Anthem and "Harrison Burgeron" were part of a unit for that class and looking back, I can't help but wonder if that unit was specifically constructed to get freshman honors English students to start thinking about intellectual elitism.

Again, look, I was kind of a little asshole. I was a kid without a hell of a lot of social skills who was both learning disabled and advanced; I had tested out of several grades (which, thankfully, the district would not advance me through) and was extremely violently bullied for years by the students who had been told "Why can't you be like Alli?" by our teachers (and, not that there's an excuse for bullying, I was a shit about the fact that I was a better student than my classmates)* so "Harrison Burgeron" *resonated.* The idea of an unshackled human as a threat to the society that wanted to drag everyone down to the lowest common denominator was like *catnip* to me. I transcribed that story in a journal by hand.

Then Anthem followed, and Anthem builds on those same themes. It is about a person whose strengths are suppressed by his society, who is punished for his individuality, who has had his choices taken away from him, and who breaks away from all of that to try to build a better world.

I think that Anthem actually makes a lot of sense to a lot of teenagers, and that's part of why the Ayn Rand Institute has a free books for teachers program and has run that scholarship contest for decades. They very much want as many edgy teens to get into Rand as early as possible. I know that if I hadn't read (and loved) Anthem so long that I probably wouldn't have been as interested in Atlas Shrugged as I was when I finally got around to it.

They do scholarships about The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged too. I've helped marxist friends write their papers for the ARI, which I think resulted in at least one scholarship.

(If you have the opportunity to take these people for their money, do it. Fuck them. I give 5:1 odds that you're a better writer and thinker than the majority of people submitting essays, so do it, go for it, take their money and use it to pay for a degree that is absolutely flooded with the kinds of critical theory that they would loathe.)

In another post I discussed the woundedness of Rand's ideology. You see this a lot with a lot of the right, actually - it manifests in the idea that you want a better world for everyone except for the people who hurt you.

This is very visible in Atlas Shrugged, which is half power fantasy, half revenge story. It is not enough that the heroes must win, but that their enemies must suffer.

The idea that those who have done you harm are beyond redemption, beyond saving, and could never have a place in your perfect world is a very adolescent idea and part of why I think Rand's work does resonate so much with edgy teens. Edgy teens often think of themselves as apart from and othered by society, and they don't want to meaningfully contribute to a society that injured them.

But you've got to grow up sometime. "I struggled and suffered, so the next person should struggle and suffer" or "you made me struggle and suffer, so I won't improve things for anyone if improving things might help you" is spiteful and petty, and something that makes sense for cynical teenagers but that is ridiculous and immature when you see adults pulling that shit.

So I understand the kids who went "cool dystopia!" and maybe internalized a story about chosen ones. I understand adults who found that appealing and read further and sat in that space for a while. What I don't understand is adults who make denying assistance to others a part of their worldview under the assumption that providing assistance to anyone is hampering individuals from reaching their full potential.

-

-

*In some ways I feel like I got set up for failure by a lot of adults. I switched districts in the 3rd grade, when I was already nearly a year younger than almost everyone in my class (I turned 8 two days before school started) and the district wouldn't allow me to advance to the 6th grade based on my testing (thank fuck) or put me in GATE classes (whatever) but whatever chance I had of being a "normal" kid got shattered when my 3rd grade teacher had me teach the rest of the class our multiplication tables and assigned me the job of doing half an hour of reading aloud to the class for a couple days each week while she caught up on grading. I was not the teacher's pet so much as I was the weird 8-year-old reading Moby Dick at recess and having trouble maintaining friendships because of emotional dysregulation. Being a smart kid with essentially no friends who was *horribly, violently bullied in ways that led to lasting injuries* probably wasn't the only reason that I liked Anthem but it was very much why I was drawn to chosen-one-under-attack-by-society-must-save-the-day narratives.

Anyway in case it wasn't clear I'm obviously still wrestling with a lot of this stuff and this blog is likely to be just as much trauma dumping as it is talking about Ayn Rand's Bad Book.

[shoichee]

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

[cosmiclatte28]

Stunned Sunday (bro Jae x you)

Warning : not an incest! Just a brother  sister imagine... based on my true story.. 

Check it out 😥

“Honey, I’m back! Fresh hot bagel with cheese and turkey and one bottle of apple juice!” Jaehyun greets you from the door.

“Yay! I am also finishing up…” your eyes are still focused on your laptop.

“Finalizing?” Jaehyun drops the food carefully on the table beside your laptop.

You nod, “Yep… I am tired of editing this over and over again! This Honors College essay is already in my laptop for one month! Gotta submit them soon and finally get rid of it from my head.”

“Cool, I remember doing that too in my first year and things were a lot messier, since I procrastinated until one week prior to deadline.” Jaehyun sits on the chair across you.

You finish correcting your essays, reading it one last time, before finally opening up the website to apply.

The page is loading, and you glance to your brother “Wish me luck!”

Jaehyun just reaches his hand out to ruffle your hair, “Good luck!”

You shift your eyes back to the screen just to frown and quickly scroll down the pages. You check the website, re-check the essay requirements and your face turns white.

“Shit-“ you mutter under your breathe.

Quickly you check your email and open the invitation link, just to find the same page displayed before you.

“Jae… it’s different! I swear… you saw it right with me… the requirement last month was about “progress is important than perfection” but now.. now it’s totally different Jae! And look! The other question I must answer are also new.” You raise your voice and Jaehyun quickly rush to your side.

He checks the page and his face shows confusion to.

“Oh no.. I guess the one you were working on was for this year?? The theme for next year is this…” Jaehyun takes over your laptop and goes to check the other pages too.

Your mind goes to blank. You really want to slam your head to the counter now, thinking that what you’ve worked hard for in the last month is futile. Now you need to re-do all the process, think of a new idea, and write it down, edit it and submit them by midnight 1 November.

You glance to the calendar, noting that there are exactly 27 days for you to work before submitting the application.

“Hey look, I know this suck… But I’m here with you okay…Here let me see,” Jaehyun sees you almost falling down from the chair. As a brother, he needs to take care of you and that is exactly what he is doing right now.

Jaehyun runs his mouse to the files, reading through your previous writing and he quickly matches them to the new questions.

“Look, calm down…” he helps you breathe deep and calmer, since you’re starting to panic.

“Here (y/n), this part is suitable to answer this question, while I guess the one where you talk about social work can be placed in this area.” Jaehyun pushes you your laptop back and guides your hands to the keyboard and mouse pad.

You know the drill; he wants you to still be the one doing this. So, with a hazed mind, you copy and paste the new questions and put in slices of your previous work to it.

“Look you answered four questions out of five, and we only need to work on the main essay. The one that will define your acceptance rate. You drink the apple juice down and with tears coming out from your eyes, you continue to choose which part can be re-used.

You’re not crying, not even sobbing. You’re laughing when Jae cracks a joke here and there, but your eyes water and the streams fall down.

“Jae, you see these tears???Why am I giving out tears when I am not crying, Like I am still laughing and doing the things here… why?” You wonder as you wipe the tears off.

Jaehyun pats your back and rubs a soothing hand “It’s okay I know you’re not crying… It’s your emotion. That’s natural…  See I know you’re a strong girl. You’re creative and you can overcome this It’s not your fault!” your brother tries to calm you down and comfort you.

You melt into his embrace and you let out a long huff of air, “I thought this is the end, turns out I have to do this again!”

Jaehyun smoothens your hair and plants a kiss on your crown of hairs, “Hey the good thing is you figured this out sooner… what if you just know this the day before?!”

You smile, “If this happens the night before, guess I’ll give up.”

Jaehyun pushes you away from his body and holds your shoulder firm, he looks into your eyes deeply and with fierce, “No honey. I know you. You’ll probably cry and yell in frustration, but I know you will quickly see how many times is left and you will twist your brain to find a way to answer the essay. Then once you get the answer, you will write it down smooth like a river flow and then when I said something, you’ll probably yell at me.” Jaehyun laughs at his own answer and you too laugh.

You punch him playfully on his chest, “Well yeah that is true. I will most likely finish it, but I don’t know how messy the room will be, or how much your ear and heart hurts from my yelling and stressed words and curses maybe.”

Jaehyun hugs you one more time, “Hey we don’t have to start now okay. You can relax a while today and then when you’re calm you will find your answer. That’s when you will start writing and now let’s enjoy the weekend.” He squishes you a comforting hug and wipes the flowing tears away from your cheek.

“I say we eat bagels and watch Netflix? Or you want to play Among Us?” Jaehyun takes over your files, saves them and shuts your laptop off.

You chug your apple juice down and push a smile after feeling better. Jae is right, in this panic mode you have, you won’t be able to think of anything and now you need to relax.

Jaehyun pinches your cheek, “Now that is my sis I know! Come, don’t think of it… I’ll help you later. But now Mark has created a room and let us play among us!”

You grab your phone and bagel then quickly rush to the good spot on the sofa.

“HURRY JAE!! THE ROOM IS FILLING UP.. GOSSHHH”

Jaehyun smiles and props beside you, his heart is a bit happier now seeing you’re not so down anymore.

THE END. 

BASED ON A REAL STORY OF WHAT HAPPENED TO ME THIS MORNING ☹ just that I have a sister, not a brother like Jaehyun .. 😭😭😭 To anyone dealing with problems and tests, You can do this! We can do this! Himnaseyo!!! Cheer up! Have a nice week end ✨🙌🎉💖

[adapted-batteries]

Making Art

Fandom: The Librarians

Rating: General/sfw

Relationship: Flynnstone

Word count: 7274

Summary: Instead of never leaving his hometown, Jacob goes off to college under the guise of getting the only degree his dad values, petroleum engineering, but of course also majoring in art history. In “Survey of Native American Art,” he meets someone who he only knew before as “guy who basically lives in the library stacks.” Of course, Fate decides he needs to suffer through a group project with him.

Alternative summary: What would happen if Jacob Stone went to my alma mater and met Flynn there?

Also posted on my Ao3.

-----

Jacob thought well and hard about how he was going to convince Issac to let him go to the University of Tulsa. There were several hurdles he had to overcome: Pa was a University of Oklahoma man, and here he was wanting to go to the nerdiest school in the state; he already knew more than enough to run the oil business, why would he need to waste his father’s money on a useless degree; if Jacob went to Tulsa for four years, he couldn’t keep cleaning up his father’s messes, and there was a real risk of Isaac running the company into the very ground it drilled. 

He had solutions to all of these things. The University of Tulsa had the best petroleum engineering degree in the Plains, and he’d always be a boomer sooner fan. And, while his high school grades weren’t too spectacular, his test scores and essay application for the Presidential Scholar program at TU got him a full ride. All he needed was Isaac to let him go and then not kill his company, and he’d be set.

Isaac didn’t need to know about Jacob’s ulterior motives. Tulsa was over 100 miles further from home than Norman was, for one, and Tulsa had a budding humanities program that Jacob really wanted to get invested in. He’d suffer through the engineering degree, but what was going to get him through it were the other courses he had in mind to take out of the humanities, languages, and arts departments. If he was lucky, he’d weasel himself a position of some sort at Gilcrease Museum just so he could learn even more from their displays and get into their archives.

When his acceptance letter came in the mail, Isaac read it with disdain. “When’d ya apply to that place? OU not good enough for you hm?” 

Jacob kept the kitchen counter between himself and his father. “No I, well, I wanna do good for the business, and TU’s got the best oil program in the state, you know.” 

“I didn’t need no fancy engineerin’ degree to make money,” Isaac countered, eyeing Jacob.

He kept himself from flinching from his father’s glare. “No, but now days you gotta have one to get started. Besides, couldn’t hurt to have one to spread our reach.”

Isaac tossed the nice letterhead on the counter. “Hmph. Well, how’re you gonna pay for that? I can’t just shill out that money.”

“I’ll, I’ll figure it out,” Jacob supplied. He’d already sent off his extra application for a full ride scholarship, which he hoped his more than qualifying exam scores and a 15 page, single-spaced analysis on Choctaw artwork and mythology would be convincing enough to award him.

“Fine, but I’m not co-signin’ any loans.” Isaac fished around in their refrigerator for a beer. “John’s off takin’ care of Sylvia, I need you on the rig Saturday.”

“Alright,” Jacob said. He had planned to spend the evening reading some books he had picked up from the town library, but that’d have to wait. After his dad wandered over to his worn recliner and he heard the click and buzz of the TV, Jacob sighed and set about making them dinner.

---

That August couldn’t get there quick enough. There were many, many times he thought about not going. He’d miss all his friends, his home town, and his pa. But, by the time he loaded up his truck and drove two hours northeast, there wasn’t any backing out now. 

When he arrived on campus, he felt very out of place, but that feeling quickly faded once orientation week started. By the time classes started, he didn’t ever want to leave. His experience from oil rigging he already had carried him through his engineering classes, so he could devote himself to his other pursuits. Language courses, literature, history, art, those were the subjects he spent near all his time on. This also meant he spent a fair time in the library.

During his second year, a new student seemed to be competing with how many hours they could clock in the library. He was a nerdy sort, Jacob thought, which meant he was going above and beyond the above-average level of studiousness the student body already had. They quickly established a routine around each other. Jacob would go to his study carol he’d staked the previous year, the leftmost one in a set of three in a forgotten corner of the stacks no one except this new person seemed to want to go to. The newcomer took the study carol two down from him, rarely acknowledging Jacob’s presence.

Their schedule he figured out within the first two weeks of class. Mondays and Wednesdays Jacob would get there first, the new guy coming about an hour later and staying while Jacob left for class. Tuesdays and Thursdays the newcomer was there before him, and would leave around two hours into Jacob’s studying. Fridays the guy wasn’t there at all, at least not when Jacob was, but he practically lived there Saturday, no doubt not going to the football home games. 

The beauty of studying in the stacks was that no one talked like they did in the study areas. The hum of the air vents, the scratch of his and the other guy’s pencils, the flip of books, and occasional footsteps of a seeker of knowledge comprised his sound track. He and the guy even alternated who stood and waved their arm to reactivate the lights when they timed out.

Without realizing, he had learned a fair amount about the guy from just studying near him. He was either dressed like a stereotypical professor, or a bedraggled grad student, which predicted how late he had stayed up the night before (confirmed by how prominent the circles under his eyes were). He had notebooks for every subject, and he studied near every subject, though a good amount of the books he hoarded were Native American ones. When he was frustrated, he might mumble under his breath, but most certainly made his hair even more wild by running his fingers through it. When he was hyperfocused, he'd sit on one foot, scratching furiously in a notebook. 

Jacob never learned the guy’s name until the next semester when he had a class with him. Jacob had gotten himself into an upper-level Native American history course, filled mostly with history majors finishing their degrees and grad students. Not wanting to seem too eager, he chose a desk one row back from the front row. People he knew from previous history courses meandered in as it neared time to start the class, and some he chatted with, asking how their breaks were and such. The professor walked in right on time, a stack of syllabi on top of a binder in one arm, an insulated travel mug in her other hand. 

Dr. Mashunkashey had begun going over the syllabus when the door to the classroom opened, revealing the guy from the stacks. He looked a bit disheveled, running late from somewhere it seemed. “That’s a two for two for not showing up on time to the first day of my class, Flynn,” the professor said, but she didn’t seem that annoyed by it. 

“Sorry, I stayed up too late reading,” Flynn replied. “I got a bit carried away following sources referenced in Reclaiming Diné History.”

“Of course you did,” Dr. Mashunkashey said with a laugh, handing him the last syllabus. “Go on and have a seat.”

It turned out the easiest seat for him to take was the one right in front of Jacob. Jacob gave him a nod, which Flynn returned quickly, and then sat down. Jacob focused himself back on the syllabus on his desk, but his mind kept drifting to the man in front of him. He’d caught glimpses of the books Flynn read in the study carrel, and they were quite all over the place in subject matter; any given day he might have had a botany book, or a German biography, or something on Egypt. And now here he was, sitting right in front of him, apparently having spent the previous night doing the same thing Jacob did, though at least Jacob’s morning gym sessions meant he was never late to class like Flynn was.

The sound of a bunch of pages flipping snapped Jacob back into reality. The professor was explaining the main project of the class. “You’ll each focus on a particular tribe’s art, and an era within that. The paper requirements are in the syllabus, standard format. Images are welcome, but don’t shirk on your words because of them. Then, for the second part of this grade, you’ll work with a partner to make some form of art, combining the styles of both of your papers.”

Flynn raised his hand, but Dr. Mashunkashey shook her head. “Yes, Flynn, you’ll have to work with a partner.” Jacob stifled a laugh when Flynn’s shoulders slumped, but apparently not enough as she glanced at him before looking back at the syllabus. “The art component can be anything. Music, painting, writing, whatever, so long as you both incorporate themes from what you highlight in your paper. Since art can take time, and you might want to coordinate what art styles you’ll be using, go ahead and pick your partner.”

Jacob started thinking through the people he already knew in the class, but Flynn startled him out of his thoughts by turning around. “Do you want to be partners?”

“I, uh, sure,” Jacob stuttered. The professor had apparently been watching Flynn to see who he’d pick, and Jacob saying yes surprised her, based on her raised eyebrows. "Do you know what you're gonna do your paper on?"

Flynn didn't hesitate to respond. "Hohokam culture."

"I'd been thinking of doing Pueblo myself, so that should work well," Jacob said.

Dr. Mashunkashey cleared her throat, getting the class to quiet down. “Okay, now that you all have partners picked, we’re gonna get started.” She moved behind the computer and proceeded to give her introductory lecture on Native American art.

---

When the class came to an end, Jacob packed up his notebook and walked around the side of Flynn’s desk. “Hey, since we’re doing a project, we should exchange numbers.”

Flynn had been still scribbling something down, so it took a beat before he looked up at Jacob. “Phone number, yes, that’s a good idea.” He fished out his phone from a worn messenger bag stuffed with books and notebooks, handed it to Jacob, and then went back to writing.

Jacob waited for him to say more, but he didn’t speak, so he opened the phone and texted this is flynn’s number from Flynn’s phone to himself. Flynn was still writing, so he cleared his throat to get his attention. “Uh, here’s your phone.”

Flynn looked up a bit faster this time and took the phone. “Great.” He looked as if whatever was in the notebook was reaching out and trying to drag his head back to it, but he was now trying to fight it, looking at Jacob like he was trying to memorize Jacob. “Um, I’ll...see you around, in the stacks.”

He hadn’t imagined Flynn would be so awkward. “Sure, probably will.” Taking it as a cue, Flynn gave in to the pull of his notebook. Jacob wandered up to the professor; he had a habit of chatting up his professors after the first class, and today was no exception. Dr. Mashunkashey had just finished talking to another student when he walked up. 

“I’ve heard good things about you, Mr. Stone.”

“And I’ve heard good things about you, too,” Jacob replied. “I wanted to take your class on Osage history last semester, but it conflicted with a class I needed to take.”

“I’ll be teaching it again in two years, so you’ve got some time,” she replied. Mumbling came from where Flynn was, making them both glance at him. “So you’ve got Flynn as your partner...that should be interesting. Do you know him from somewhere?”

“Yeah, I met ‘em in the library,” Jacob replied.

Dr. Mashunkashey laughed a little. “That sounds like the place to find him. Well, I look forward to your paper. Daniel, Dr. Griffith, liked your final paper so much he couldn’t quit talking about it.”

Jacob’s ears reddened a little. “Oh, well, I’m glad he enjoyed it.”

“Are you considering grad school?”

“Well, I’d uh, been thinkin’ about it, yeah.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he was also doing an engineering degree to take back home.

“If you want to talk about it, stop by my office anytime. There’s definitely fellowships out there for students like you, if finances are a concern.”

Jacob couldn’t help but perk up at that. “I’ll take you up on that. See you during office hours.”

---

Flynn, it turned out, was kind of the worst. Jacob wasn’t in a rush to get the project going, considering it wasn’t due until April anyway, but Flynn wanted to get started right away...at 3am apparently. Jacob hadn’t seen the string of texts until the next morning.

    Flynn 3:04 AM: Can you do pottery? There’s a ceramics studio in Phillips Hall, I think I can get access to it.

    Flynn 3:05 AM: There’s a few designs that would work for my time, depending on what works with your era.

    Flynn 3:07 AM: You could decorate half and I’ll do the other.

    Flynn 3:15 AM: Are there specific techniques your people used in their pottery making? We should use a traditional method.

    Jacob didn’t reply right away. He went about his morning routine, and was on his way to the gym when his phone buzzed again.

    Flynn 8:07 AM: What do you think about woodworking for our project?

Jacob groaned out loud, no one close enough to hear him. No wonder the professor was shocked he said yes to Flynn. 

    Jacob 8:08 AM: We have months to do this project. There’s no need to start so early.

Jacob shoved his phone in his pocket on do-not-disturb, intending to ignore any messages for the duration of his workout, but now that Flynn got him thinking about it, he sent off one more text.

    Jacob 8:09 AM: I think pottery would probably work best. I’m sure we can manage it between the two of us.

Flynn responded almost instantaneously.

    Flynn 8:10 AM: That’s what I was thinking. Though if we really wanted to incorporate both, we could also include the woodworking.

“Lord,” Jacob hissed, earning a confused look from the bleary-eyed student working the desk at the gym. He took his student ID and apologized. “Sorry, thanks.” It wouldn’t be that bad, so long as he didn’t let Flynn get under his skin.

Despite his efforts, Jacob’s workout was overshadowed by his loud thoughts. It wasn’t that he hoped Flynn would be cool, but, well, from months studying silently next to each other, Jacob had wondered what he would be like as a friend. He wanted to know what went on in Flynn's brain, what made him tick, what he did outside of class and studying. But now, he realized, Flynn was a brilliant mess of an academic who breathed school 24/7. 

---

 Flynn hadn’t been in the library Monday afternoon, and Jacob hadn’t gone to the library Tuesday. He hadn’t gotten any texts from him either, so by their second class on Wednesday, Jacob was curious what Flynn had been up to. That curiosity grew when Flynn showed up with a new notebook he hadn't had on Monday, already a quarter of the way filled with notes. "Jacob! So I talked to Kelly, er, Dr. Mashunkashey, and she talked to the art department, who then talked to the main ceramics professor, and he emailed me back saying we could do our project in his studio."

Jacob was kind of shocked at how fast he’d contacted people. “Well, that’s good.”

“I think we could start working on it, hm, next week?” Flynn looked down at Jacob expectantly, as he’d yet to take his seat. 

For whatever reason, Jacob got an odd feeling in his stomach, but he ignored it. “I wasn’t plannin’ on gettin’ goin’ so soon, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt. I’ve only read about their pottery techniques, not done them, so extra time might be a good idea.” Flynn was practically vibrating with excitement at his response, which made Jacob laugh before he could stop himself. 

Flynn thankfully didn’t think he was mocking him. “Great! The studio is open for us Friday afternoons.”

“I can do that,” Jacob replied. Flynn somehow smiled at him even more than he was, and well, Jacob couldn’t deny it felt nice to have that joy aimed at him. It didn’t last long though, as Flynn sat down when Dr. Mashunkashey walked into class. Flynn turned around in his seat and started going through his notes on the techniques he wanted to try until the professor had her powerpoint up and running.

Flynn wasn’t as insufferable as he thought, his excitement contagious, but Jacob realized this project was gonna be tough for another reason: he was falling for Flynn.

---

Jacob hadn't done any ceramics since art in high school. Flynn said he could, as apparently he minored in art to add to his many degrees, Jacob found out. It unnerved him a bit, to know that Flynn already had 2 Ph.D.'s and 3 masters in Egyptology, two ancient languages, Chinese history and physics, and that Flynn had no plans on stopping from acquiring more. All Jacob had was a high school diploma, though he had a lot in his head from the books he devoured and the time he spent out on the oil rigs. 

The ceramics studio was thankfully empty when they arrived. The room was open, old windows hinting at a time when the space used to be an engineering workshop when the art building used to be the engineering building, which the engraved stone above one entrance still said. Shelving with a variety of in-progress and complete works lined most of the walls, with tables in the center of one half of the room, and space for throwing wheels in the other. It smelled like wet earth, and for a moment, Jacob imagined he was out on a new rig after a rain. 

The professor who taught ceramics classes gave a basic rundown of the room, clearly with the dual purpose of informing them of where things were and sussing out just how skilled they were. Flynn's rambling at various points about technique and clay types seemed to satisfy the professor, who left them to their devices. 

Flynn took a hunk of clay out of the plastic bag and started rolling out coils on top of a drywall square. "Okay, were there specific techniques you need to incorporate from your time period?" 

"Well, it was coil-based, like yours, though the clay they used had a different composition ‘cause of where they sourced it," Jacob replied. Flynn had set him on making the base, so he was rolling out a slab to index finger thickness with a rolling pin. 

It was clear Flynn had worked with clay before. He already had several coils made and covered to prevent drying out while Jacob hadn't even gotten to the right thickness yet. "Dr. Kanhg couldn't get clay with the mineral composition we needed, but he does have matte glazes we can use to make the clay look the right color, give it the more reddish hue," Flynn said. His eyes then flicked to Jacob's work, brow furrowing. "You're rolling it too thin."

Jacob had been paying attention to his clay, but then he had gotten distracted by Flynn working, how delicate yet firm he rolled out the coils under his palms, the way his hair flopped a bit with his head bent down. Jacob had rolled his clay out all right, to about an ⅛ inch thick divot in the middle with over an inch thick edges from not flipping his slab. If he was making a mini half-pipe, he would've done a fine job. "Uh, sorry, I'll start over." He went to smush it together when Flynn yanked the clay out from under his hands.

"If you do that you'll dry it out with the oil from your hands," Flynn snapped like Jacob was supposed to know that. Flynn folded it twice and then started slamming it on the drywall slab to combine it. 

"I've only done ceramics once in high school, man," Jacob retorted, puffing himself up a bit on the stool he was sitting on. 

"Clearly it shows," Flynn replied, salt in Jacob's wounded ego. Flynn, not very gently, shoved the drywall square with the now condensed clay over to Jacob. "Pay attention this time."

Jacob grunted at him, not trusting himself to say anything good, and rolled out his slab again. This time he kept his eyes glued to his work, ignoring the pinprick sensation of Flynn's judgemental gaze on him. He rolled it out well enough, and used a large yogurt container to trace out a circle and cut it out. 

No sooner than he finished sliding the knife around the trace he made and started to pull the excess clay away, Flynn snatched the circle and started working it to attach the coils. "I was gonna do that," Jacob growled, watching Flynn flip the edges up with more speed and evenness than Jacob would have.

Flynn didn't look up at him. "And I'm sure you'd have to do it twice too."

"You don't know that," Jacob muttered, watching Flynn. He looked around the studio, feeling useless, so he said, "Is there something I can do? It's half my project too."

Flynn stopped working, glaring at him for a moment before softening his expression. "Have you made a coil pot before?"

"No...but I think I can do it from watching you," Jacob said.

Flynn narrowed his eyes a bit, but gently slid the partially done pot across the table to him. "Pinch and smooth down on the inside to connect the clay, but don't push too hard or you'll warp the coil below."

Jacob got halfway done with the coil before he punched through accidentally with his finger, making a hole. "Well fuck," he said as Flynn let out a frustrated sigh. It was going to take forever if he kept working, so he passed it back to Flynn. "Sorry."

"Since you're just going to mess it up, let me make it," Flynn said with exasperation. "You can decorate, if you won't mess that up too."

"Just ‘cause I'm not some genius like you and I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I can't do it," Jacob barked. For an instant he reminded himself of his father, and he cringed a little. He’d startled Flynn too; where Flynn had been repairing the hole Jacob made, there was now a rip again. “Sorry, I, uh, look. It took a lot for me to get here, and I wanna learn just as much as you do, but if you’re gonna treat me like I’m an idiot, I’m just gonna leave.”

Flynn didn’t respond at first, so Jacob started packing up his things and leaving. “No, wait!” Flynn grabbed his forearm; thankfully Jacob hadn’t rolled down his shirt sleeve yet. “I’m not good with people.”

Jacob huffed. “You don’t say.” He glanced at Flynn’s clay-dusted hand, still holding him, which made Flynn release him.

“I mean, school, learning, it’s everything to me. I don’t want to mess this project up. It has to be perfect, everything does, because that means I understand it.” Flynn went to rake a hand through his hair, but at the last second realized his hands were not clean, and stopped himself. “I just want one group project to go right. I hate group projects, but I need you to prove to Dr. Mashunkashey that I can work with people. She says I need to be able to do that if I want to be a professor.”

Jacob was not expecting Flynn to open up to him like that. Nor was he expecting the warmth in his chest when Flynn said he needed him, but he pushed that aside before he did anything reckless. “I’m willing to put in the effort if you are, but you have to let me do some of the work. I’m not gonna flake out.” Jacob hadn’t realized just how spooked Flynn was until he relaxed, tension released from his shoulders. 

“Okay.” Flynn looked at the in-progress pot for a moment, then said, “I’m going to finish fixing the hole, then you can try again. You have to be gentle with it.”

“I know.” Jacob sat patiently, waiting for Flynn finish the repair. Once he did, he pushed the pot to Jacob. He started adding a new coil, but after a couple pinches, Flynn stopped him.

“You’ve got to be gentler than that,” Flynn said. “Can’t you feel when the clay is giving too much?” Without warning, Flynn took Jacob’s hand, looking at his fingers. “Oh, of course you can’t, you’ve got calloused fingertips.” He glanced up at Jacob. “Guitar, I assume?”

Jacob was doing all he could to contain himself. “Uh, yeah, and probably from years of working on an oil rig too.” 

Flynn nodded thoughtfully at the addition, clearly filing it away wherever he was storing facts about Jacob. He hadn’t let go of Jacob’s hand, and this time Jacob wasn’t going to do anything to make him. “You’re pushing too hard, and thus thinning the clay too much at the join, that’s why you punched through,” Flynn explained. He then moved Jacob’s hand back into position, but this time, keeping his hand on top of Jacob’s. Their hands together almost didn’t fit into the pot, but Flynn made it work. “I’m going to press down so you can feel how hard you can go without breaking it, okay?”

Jacob nodded, not trusting words at the moment. Flynn proceeded to work the clay through Jacob’s hand, somehow just as good as he was before. Part of Jacob’s brain noticed that he didn’t push near as hard as Jacob had been when trying to be gentle, and filed it away, but most of his brain was focused on how intently Flynn was watching their hands work, and then how intently he was looking back at Jacob when he stopped. “Did you feel the difference?”

“Uh,” Jacob cleared his throat when it came out husky, “yeah, I did. Thanks. You really know your stuff.”

He noticed Flynn blush a little at the compliment. “Good. Uh,” Flynn realized he was still holding Jacob’s hand and released him, “now you try on your own.” After Jacob satisfactorily did a whole coil, they alternated until they reached a stopping point a third of the way through. “We need to let it dry to leather-hard before we add any more, otherwise it will collapse.”

Jacob vaguely remembered that leather-hard was a term to describe the texture of somewhat dried clay. “Alright. How long is that gonna take?”

Flynn considered the room a bit, thinking. “Today’s a humid day, so it would probably be best to wrap it with a paper towel and leave it in a plastic bag, then check it tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Jacob went and gathered the plastic and paper towels while Flynn fiddled with a coil. “I guess we can come back Monday afternoon?”

“That should be good, yes,” Flynn replied, swaddling the base of the pot with paper towels. He took a strip of plastic and wrapped the rim, and apparently noticed Jacob watching him. “This will keep the top fresh so when we come back, we can continue working it.”

Jacob nodded. He helped Flynn clean their area, replacing tools and wiping down the table. Done with their tasks, they awkwardly stared at each other across the table for a few moments before Jacob said, “Well, guess I’ll see ya Monday then?”

“Yes...see you then,” Flynn said, and then without warning, he rather hastily left the studio.

Jacob watched him go, then sat back down on the stool he’d been sitting on. “Oh Lord.”

---

He felt kind of guilty when he pulled up Clayton’s contact on his phone. He’d not been great about calling like he’d promised when he left Lawton, but Clayton always told him he knew college was hectic and to not worry about it. Still, as the phone rang, Jacob felt bad about calling just to talk about his personal life.

“Hey, long time no call, eh?” Clayton said as he answered.

“Yeah, sorry man. Some of these engineerin’ classes I should’ve tested out of, but they don’t really do that here,” Jacob replied. He was in his apartment, laying on his bed.

“I bet you could test out of half of that degree,” Clayton said with a laugh. “So what’s new with you?”

“I was gonna ask you that first,” Jacob said, feeling his face heat up already.

“You know I’d tell you the same as a few weeks ago, ‘cuz nothing new’s happened,” Clayton replied. “Plus,” Jacob could hear the smile in his voice, “I got a feelin’ you’re gonna ask for advice about somethin’.”

“How’d you, ugh, never mind,” Jacob scoffed, really blushing when Clayton laughed at him again. “Yeah, I got a...situation.”

Clayton sighed. “And who is he?”

Jacob sighed. “He’s in my Native American art history class, we’re partners on the group project, but I actually knew him before it.”

“...Wait, is this the same guy who you studied with in the library?”

Jacob shook his head, yet again surprised by how well Clayton could read him, even over the phone. “Studied near, but yeah. Turns out he’s doin’ a Ph.D. in Native history.”

"So he’s closer to your age?”

“I think so, though he might honestly be younger than me. The man’s got like five degrees already,” Jacob said, not bothering to keep the contempt out of his voice.

“So you went and fell for a genius, huh?”

“He’s a smartass,” Jacob said, but after a moment he added, “yeah, I have.” He was super fortunate to have such a good guy as Clayton he could call his best friend. He’d fallen for him too, briefly, but Clayton didn’t feel the same, and then Clayton decided it was his job to be Jacob’s wingman. 

“And does he feel the same?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think so at first, but now…”

Clayton chuckled. “Then tell me what happened.” Jacob explained the happenings in the ceramics studio. “Well, he sounds awkward, but I think it’d be best to ask him directly.”

Jacob knew Clayton was going to say that, but he still felt shocked. “I can’t just ask him!”

“Why not?” was all Clayton said.

“‘Cause, well, if he doesn’t, this whole project is gonna be awkward.”

“Isn’t it already though?”

Jacob thought a moment. “Well, I guess, yeah. But I also don’t wanna get distracted before we finish this project. It’s worth half our grade.”

“So you’re just gonna pine away in silence for three months?”

“It might not be three months...Flynn’s too focused on doing this project as quick as we can.” Jacob hadn’t really considered that until now. “If we get the project done quick, then there’s nothin’ stoppin’ me from askin’ him after.”

“That’s the spirit. Let me know how it goes, you know I wouldn’t mind drivin’ up if you needed it.”

“Thanks, Clayton.”

"Anytime, Jacob."

---

Jacob decided that getting the project mostly done was the priority. This meant he had to suffer through two more equally awkward handbuilding sessions before their pot was ready for the first firing. At least in class, Flynn’s back was to him, except when they had class discussions. By the time they started glazing their pot, Jacob swore Flynn knew exactly how he was making him feel.

Glazing was just as messy as he remembered in high school. Flynn didn’t care about the state of the table, or himself, so long as his strips on the pot were perfect replicas of various designs he picked. Compared to the pot making, Jacob turned out to be the better painter. The hardest part for him was picking the designs he wanted to use. 

Jacob was halfway through a strip when Flynn asked, “Where did you learn how to paint?”

Jacob snickered a little. “Same as most everything else, self-taught.” He glanced at Flynn, who currently had smears of blue underglaze where he’d wiped his forehead. “Are ya goin’ for war paint too?”

Flynn narrowed his eyes, confused. “What?”

“You got underglaze on your face,” Jacob said, pointing at Flynn’s forehead with the brush. 

Flynn swiped at his forehead, making the smear worse, which just made Jacob laugh harder. “Oh yeah? Well-” Flynn decided to go for direct retaliation and swiped at Jacob’s face with his orange-covered brush across the table “-Now we match!”

Jacob tried to dodge, about fell off his stool, and Flynn’s brush ended up tapping the end of his nose. He knew better, he really did, but Flynn had worn him down the past week, so Jacob got off his stool, holding his brush out like a rapier. “You’ll regret that,” he growled.

Taking the challenge, Flynn got into a much more trained en-garde stance. “I rather think you will!” Then, without warning, Flynn jumped around the edge of the table at him.

Jacob realized that he was outclassed, but gave a valiant effort anyway. Quickly, Flynn had him giving up ground, forcing him to the sink that sat in the middle of the room between the tables and throwing wheels. “You’ve taken a class on fencing, haven’t you?”

“Lessons, when I was a kid, but yes, I’ve been trained,” Flynn replied, spying for an opening to tag Jacob. Just as Flynn lunged, Jacob dodged left, letting Flynn catch himself on the sink. Flynn shook his head, a mischievous grin on his face. “You, you’ve got some fight experience too.” He took a swipe, forcing Jacob closer to the finished projects shelf. “But not formal, no...brawls, that’s what you get into.”

Jacob took a jab at Flynn, gaining a foot of ground, but Flynn quickly forced him back two. “Not been in a scrap in a while,” Jacob said, trying again to swipe himself some room. 

Seeing Jacob essentially pinned, his left blocked by the stoneware clay reclaim bin and a table, Flynn went for the killing blow. Jacob knew how to read people in fights, and Flynn had gotten to the “confident of a win” stage, so Jacob ducked at the last possible second. This meant he was out of range of the brush, but Flynn was now barreling straight for the shelving. Without thinking, Jacob jumped back up, wrapping his arms around Flynn’s waist as he did and pushing him back away from the shelf.

“I was going to stop myself,” Flynn quipped as Jacob released him.

“I know overshooting when I see it,” Jacob retorted. He hadn’t stepped away from Flynn, nor had Flynn stepped away from him. They were less than a foot apart. Flynn’s eyes were dark, no doubt from the adrenaline of the fight; Jacob assumed he looked a similar state of riled up. He caught himself glancing at Flynn’s mouth without thinking, and was about to step away, until Flynn mimicked him, glancing at his lips.

Jacob closed the distance between them before he could think of reasons why he shouldn’t.

Flynn kissing him back made him forget any of those reasons.

An odd wetness on his forearm made him pull away. Flynn’s paintbrush had made an orange stripe on his arm. He looked back to Flynn, eyes even darker than they had been. “Guess we should finish the pot.”

“Uh, y...yeah,” Flynn said eloquently. “I didn’t know you…”

Jacob laughed under his breath. “You’ve been driving me crazy the past three weeks.”

Flynn’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were angry at me.”

Jacob closed his eyes, a smile on his face. “You really weren’t kiddin’ when you said you’re bad with people.” He opened his eyes when he felt Flynn shaking his head, nose brushing against Jacob’s. “Well, maybe I can teach you a thing or two,” he murmured, giving Flynn a tease of a kiss before pulling away again. “But we really should finish the pot.”

Flynn took a moment to adjust his focus. “Right, yes.” He stepped away, smoothing out his shirt in an effort to make himself look less flustered. He walked over to the pot, but turned back to Jacob following him. “So, we’re doing this?”

The fact that Jacob was now finding Flynn’s awkwardness really endearing was a testament to just how hard he’d fallen for the genius. “I am if you want to.”

Flynn nodded...and nodded some more before he responded, “Okay, good, yes, I very much want to do that again.”

Jacob laughed. “Well, we can make out as much as we want after we finish this pot, ‘cause the next firing is two days from now and it needs to dry before then.”

The motivation of more set a fire in Flynn’s belly; he attacked the pot with his brush, clearly caring less about perfect replication and more about finishing in the same general design so he could go do better things. Jacob put a little more effort into his, and thus was still painting when Flynn finished his underglaze design and cleaned his materials up. Flynn managed to sit there for 30 seconds before he interrupted Jacob. “How much longer will you take?”

Jacob glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. “Why, you got somewhere you gotta be?” Flynn squirmed on his stool, making Jacob feel the heat of satisfaction in his chest. “I’ll be done when I’m done. I might just reward ya for your patience,” Jacob said with a smirk. 

Flynn practically melted under his gaze, ears going red. “Okay...fine.”

It was just too fun seeing the effect of his words on Flynn. “Can you wait a little more for me?” Jacob rumbled, letting his voice get low and gravelly. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Flynn shuddered, making Jacob smile. 

After Jacob slightly more hastily finished his strips, Flynn practically threw himself at him. Jacob had to make himself shove Flynn off him. “Hey, I didn’t say you could do that,” Jacob growled more than he had meant to; Flynn shuddered a bit. “We need to clean up, and not make out in a public classroom.” Flynn looked like he was enjoying getting told what to do too much, red flush on his face and neck, but eyes definitely staring Jacob down. “Look, once we clean up, we can go to my apartment, alright?”

Flynn, also very aware of how he was affecting Jacob, moved back into Jacob’s space. “You took entirely too long to say that,” he said, voice low and a bit breathy. Flynn leaned–not to kiss Jacob again, but to grab the dirty paint brushes on the workbench, making Jacob lean into empty air. Flynn looked at him expectantly. “Well? We better clean up then.”

“You little…” Jacob shook his head, smiling deviously. Flynn preened as he dramatically walked to the sink, knowing full well Jacob’s eyes were on him. 

They could’ve been perhaps more thorough in their cleaning, if they weren’t both busy imagining what they were going to do to each other once they got to Jacob’s apartment. 

---

The next class, Jacob had intended to play it cool, meaning acting like nothing unusual happened between him and Flynn. That fell flat when Flynn, arriving just barely on time as usual, strode over to Jacob with a dopey grin on his face. For a moment Jacob was terrified Flynn was going to kiss him in front of the whole class. Thankfully, Flynn just patted Jacob’s hand, purposely drawing his fingers away sensually, and then sat in his seat. 

Once his brain restarted, Jacob looked around as discreetly as he could manage. No one seemed to have noticed, expect Dr. Mashunkashey, who was watching him with curiosity. Thankfully, she started class, and Jacob did his best to take notes and not reach out and pet the back of Flynn’s head.

On the way out of class, Dr. Mashunkashey stopped Jacob. “Jacob, can you talk for a moment?”

Jacob looked to Flynn, who was all but dragging him out of class to “work on the paper” which Jacob knew wasn’t what he was planning. Flynn didn’t seem to think anything amiss, so he said, “I’ll meet you outside,” and left the classroom.

“Everything okay with your project?” she asked, glancing at the door. “I know Flynn can be a bit...much, so if you need me to talk to him, I can.”

Jacob went a bit red, but tried to power through. “Oh, uh, nah, everything’s good. We’ve even started making our art piece.” 

Dr. Mashunkashey seemed a bit surprised with his response. “Well, that’s certainly a change. I look forward to seeing what you two make together.”

Jacob’s brain of course heard “seeing you two together” and had to blink a few times to refocus himself. “I, uh, think it’ll be pretty good. It’s been a long while since I worked with clay, though that’s apparently one of Flynn’s many damn talents.” Jacob kicked himself internally, cursing in front of a professor like that.

Dr. Mashunkashey, to Jacob’s surprise, gave a hearty laugh. “I wouldn’t say it’s often I teach students who have more degrees than I do children. Though I think you could put Flynn in his paces from your papers so far.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could be as good as him,” Jacob retorted, pausing as he briefly considered what that would entail, “I’d have to quadruple major or something.”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you. Flynn seemed pretty eager to get to work.”

“Yeah...he really likes to work on things when he’s focused on them,” Jacob replied, pointedly making his way towards the door so he didn’t have to directly look at the professor. “Have a good day, Professor.”

“You too, Jacob,” she said with a wave. 

Flynn was apparently waiting to pounce on him in the hallway, which Jacob had briefly pondered if he would, so he braced his arm to keep Flynn off him. While it did keep Flynn from macking on him, Flynn also took his arm and entwined his own, and started walking down the hall. “What did she have to talk about?”

“Oh, uh, she asked if we were doing okay–I mean, our project,” Jacob stammered, glancing down at their arms.

Flynn didn’t seem to care and just kept walking towards the stairs. “Oh, well I bet she was surprised to hear I’m not procrastinating on a project for once. Speaking of projects,” Flynn leaned to speak lowly into Jacob’s ear, “I was thinking we could move our research to your place, or mine.”

“Uh huh,” Jacob chuckled. “Well, I suppose we could do that.”  

They did not, in fact, work on their project that morning.

---

In the end, they got an A on their papers, project, and presentation of said project. And Dr. Mashunkashey won her bet against her colleagues that Jacob and Flynn would get together by the end of her class.

-----

Post Notes: Sorry for the quick ending, I’ve been sitting on this fic since February and never finished it, so I figured making an ending and getting it out was better than it sitting in my google drive forever. Also, when it comes to ages, I saw them both as a bit older than your usual 18-22 college students; for both they’re at least 23 or so, Jacob from working with his father, and Flynn from doing other degrees. 

The University of Tulsa doesn’t have a Native American studies program (they really should though given location and history of the school), but they do have a well-known petroleum engineering program, which is what gave me the idea of how to get Stone to school. Considering Flynn’s all about ancient history studies, surely the ancient American people he knows about too. And I’m assuming Jacob grew up somewhere out near Lawton, OK, based on the mileage he gave in “And What Lies Beneath the Stones” since the actual town Wagoner (Wagner was what they used in the episode) is about 45 minutes southeast from Tulsa.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT I DID THIS THE BUBBLE GOT RIGHT

Like skirmishers in an ancient army, you want to be forced to figure out how to scale investing. If someone starts being rude, other users will step in and tell them to stop. When we make something in America, our aim is just to get you talking. We can stop there, and have something crude but serviceable, like a charcoal sketch. And whichever side wins, their ideas will also be considered to have triumphed, as if God wanted to signal his agreement by selecting that side as the victor. For nearly all of history the success of a society was proportionate to its ability to assemble large and disciplined organizations win needs to have a disproportionately low probability of the latter. We can afford to take more risk, and can start more startups total in their careers. And Microsoft is going to come back with the money; the only question is how much on what terms.

The worst ideas we see at Y Combinator are from young founders making things they think other people will want. And most importantly, what are you interested in? In the so-called real world this need is a great curiosity about a promising question. Wrong. Having your language designed by a committee is a big pitfall, and not just for the reasons everyone knows about. To see fashion in your own time, different societies have wildly varying ideas of what's ok and what isn't. This is a new essay for the Japanese edition of Hackers & Painters. So if you want to fight back, there are ways to do it than literally making a mark on the world, but have no other way to do that is to visit them. The eight men who left Shockley Semiconductor to found Fairchild Semiconductor, the original Silicon Valley startup, weren't even trying to start a startup, it's easier to say you suck than to figure out how to scale investing.

If some new technique makes solar cells x% more efficient, that seems strictly better. But really what motivates us is the completely amoral desire that would motivate any hacker who looked at some complex device and realized that with a tiny tweak he could make it run more efficiently. In the last 20 years, smoking has been transformed by a combination of factory farming and innovations in food processing into something with way more immediate bang for the buck, and you can even work on your own stuff while you're there. They still rely on this principle today, incidentally. Hardy said he didn't like math in high school and someone asked about my plans, I'd say that my first priority was to learn what the options were. If they don't have a problem doing acquisitions, the others should have even less problem. There's something about big companies that just sucks the energy out of you. One of the most successful countries, in the same portfolio-optimizing way as investors.

An ambitious kid graduating from college in 1960 wanted to work in the other direction. I was eight, I was rarely bored. When you stretch before running, you put your body into positions much more extreme than any it will assume during the run. Where the just-do-it model fails most dramatically is in our cities—or rather, exurbs. Brevity is underestimated and even scorned. And just as there is nothing wrong with yellow. And yet every May, speakers all over the country fire up the Standard Graduation Speech, the theme of which is: don't give up on your dreams. So it's likely that visitors from the future would agree with at least some of the effect of first class functions or recursion or even keyword parameters.1 C: Assembly language is too low-level. The best way to do this? This technique won't find us all the things we can't say that are true, or at least something like a natural science. People who worry about the increasing gap between rich and poor generally look back on the default explanation of people living in fallen civilizations.

Opinions we consider harmless could have gotten you in big trouble.2 There your job is largely a matter of destiny, the mere unfolding of some innate genius. I haven't decided.3 If I were talking to a guy four feet tall whose ambition was to play in the NBA, I'd feel pretty stupid saying, you can get away with this in movies and software because they're both messy processes. I liked. The millennia-long run of bigger-is-better left us with a lot of things for the better. Some will be shocking by present standards. It's hard for them to start with the labels. Could a trend based on them be that powerful? Dylan: Scheme has no libraries, and Lisp syntax is scary. Some tribes may avoid wrong as judgemental, and may instead use a more neutral sounding euphemism like negative or destructive. That's not a radical idea, by the way; it's the main difference between children and adults.

I think most Japanese executives would be horrified at the idea of building Facebook in 2004: organic startup ideas usually don't seem like startup ideas at first. Because a glider doesn't have an engine, you can't fly into the wind without losing a lot of big, serious programs started as throwaway programs. How many times have you heard hackers speak fondly of how in, say, APL, they could do amazing things with just a couple lines of code? A lot of the questions people get hot about are actually quite complicated. Hasn't she been taught to be? Suppose your company is making $1000 a month now, and choose those that will give you the most promising range of options afterward. And since risk is usually proportionate to reward.

Notes

A investor has a great thing in itself deserving. Make sure it works on all the other extreme—becoming demoralized when investors behave upstandingly too.

One father told me how he had to for some students to get fossilized. The amusing thing is, obviously, only Jews would move there, and instead of using special euphemisms for lies that seem excusable according to certain somewhat depressing rules many of the most accurate way to put it this way, they'd have something more recent. And no, unfortunately, I preferred to call the Metaphysics came after meta after the Physics in the beginning of the big winners aren't all that matters, just that they're really works of anthropology.

Interestingly, the other. The application described here is Skype. Investors influence one another directly through the buzz that surrounds wisdom in so many different schools of thought about how to appeal to space aliens, but they seem to want them; you have to tell VCs early on. I explained in How to Make Wealth in Hackers Painters, what that means service companies are up-front capital intensive to founders would actually increase the size of a startup than it would have undesirable side effects.

[opaquestrategies]

2020 in review

tagged by @7rc --thank you, I love doing these kinds of things. and since i always write too much for them, the list is under the cut.

Top 5 movies I saw this year:

Emma. (last film I saw in a theater!)

Roman Holiday (hOW did it take me this long to watch this. how is roman holiday not more embedded as a fanfic au plot trope? a pure delight.) 

The Host (went through all the Bong Joon Ho movies I could find after seeing Parasite and this one was my favorite. B-movie but make it art!)

Naussica of the Valley of the Wind / The Castle of Cagliostro / Porco Rosso (As of this year, I’ve watched every Miyazaki movie! all three of the ones I caught up with are great, and I can’t bring myself to choose between them.)

The Hateful Eight (we hooked our laptop up to our stereo to watch this after Liminal Election Week and it was so cathartic to live in a world with different, more visceral problems and to see people in lockdown for a different reason)

Top 5 TV shows I watched this year:

Halt and Catch Fire (I didn’t post much about this show at all when I watched it in June because it was so good that I watched all four seasons in one weekend. Stick with it thru the first season where it’s still just “diet 80s Mad Men and Lee Pace and MacKenzie Davis are there” and you’ll get a show that’s also a stunning mediation on how people you’ve grown apart from can still be part of you even after time changes both of you several times over and what it means to be able to forgive and be forgiven. you’ll feel like you lived a lifetime after finishing this.)

The Simpsons (first nine seasons! this is what I watched over the summer when packing up the apartment I’d lived in for four years)

What We Do in the Shadows (the first season was a great time, but somewhere around the Jackie Daytona episode was when I realized I was watching a masterclass sitcom)

Derry Girls (this was the perfect stress-barricading watch for the first week of quarantine! absolutely sublime.)

Simone Giertz’s youtube channel (loved the consistent experience of being able to watch a cute, talented woman follow the inscrutable exhortations of her soul, especially when those exhortations were things like “make a coffee table out of matches and then light those matches,” “build a robot deer I can hunt with a compound bow” and “build a scissor lamp.” her whole spirit of “yeah, fuck it, I’m just gonna manifest this thing because I want to” is infectious and brought a lot of joy back into covid summer)

Top 5 Songs:

Choose literally any Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters track and insert it here

Fleetwood Mac - “Angel”

Throwing Muses - “Not Too Soon”

Adrienne Lenker - “Anything” 

Haim - “Don’t Wanna” 

Top 5 Books I Read This Year:

The first four Earthsea books by Ursula Le Guin, with special mentions to The Tombs of Atuan and Tehanu which both gave me the delightful “I am spending a week just living in this book and lapping it down as if it’s water” experience. #tenarhive. 

The Secret History by Donna Tartt. I was going to describe this novel where pretentious students form a Greek cult and then murder the weak link of the squad as “fun” which seems a little incongruous but like...it’s a taut, perfectly paced thriller and I got to understand the Greek allusions in it and there was some delicious dramatic irony in how the book’s narrated. so yeah, i did have fun with it. it’s fun.

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin. Baldwin can write epigrammatically and that’s how I first encountered him, as a quotation. But the reason he gets quoted is because he makes sure to never simplify his ideas or reduce the world to something less complex than it really is, even when he’s also going for pith and wit. And of course, like all writers, he improves all the more with context. As a Christian, I found his critique of how the church has let itself be used as a tool of white supremacy particularly lucid and helpful.

Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. “Fictional oral history” is such a fun and breezy conceit for a novel and I tore through this one in a day during the first week of quarantine. a lovely little pastiche of some very familiar tropes if you happen to love the archetypes and mythology of popular music and/or are a boomer. this is what is responsible for the Fleetwood Mac.

Pyrrhus and Cineas by Simone de Beauvoir. I leaned on this little essay A LOT for the honors thesis I spent this year writing and reread it three times. It’s such a clever and intriguing discussion of why we bother doing anything at all or why we should choose one goal over another when it all just ends in us dying anyway, which are themes that really hit this year. The last paragraph of the first part always gives me chills. 

Top 5 positive things that happened to me in 2020:

this was back in the part of 2020 that isn’t part of 2020, but I had one really fantastic 48 hours back in February where I helped host the speakers my job invited to a philosophy of religion conference, went to two really nice dinners, talked about so many interesting things, and then went on a impromptu outing with an art history major to see a pop art exhibit.

I participated in several different classes and reading groups, mostly organized by two of our professors, that gave me something to do over the year other than doomscroll and vegetate. I read Kafka, Nietzsche, Toni Morrison, Camus, Philip K. Dick, and Foucault for the first time over the course of these and it was a precious gift to have a built-in venue for social interaction when I was stuck in an apartment by myself.

I moved to an apartment in another city with one of my best friends to ride out quarantine together and that decision has been such a boon for my mental health in the back half of this year. finding the place was a nightmare, but it’s in a nice neighborhood that has a beautiful park and a sculpture garden in walking distance and it was wonderful to put up art and make the place our own. it was a refreshing and much needed change in a year when change was hard to come by.

I used online school to go home for thanksgiving for the first time since I moved away and then just stayed for the rest of the holidays. I usually only get three weeks down here on winter break, so it was nice to have a month and a half instead. 

I graduated from college! and one silver lining of having no idea what 2021 is going to look like is that I’m forced to take at least a semester break to heal from the burn out instead of automatically starting the application cycle for grad school (although the “oh I have no idea what I’m going to do about grad school” is dawning on me and figuring that out will be a huge part of whatever happens next year).

i feel weird tagging people to think back about this last year now that we’re safely out of it? like don’t go back into 2020, that’s where the 2020 is! but, if you want to, i’m tagging @justthatspiffy @aahsoka @theraisincouncil @cosm-i @letsoulswander and you, if you also wanna revisit this kind of stuff.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Ecologies of Rebuilding Your Life || Morgan & Frankie

Frankie tries out a college class. Morgan remembers her past.

@offrankies

“...And who is it that determines the definition of humanity? What kind of definitions do we see offered by Victor, or Henry Cleveral, or the Creature?” Morgan asked the class. The students, while not thrilled with some of Mary Shelley’s ‘big words’ had enough preparation to offer semi thoughtful ideas. Obviously, Victor thought he could define what human means. One of her try-hard students, eager to work his way into his advanced courses, posited that while Victor’s definition of humanity is the one that dominates the narrative, the intrusion of the creature’s perspective halfway through the book is meant to compel the reader into questioning its validity. “Yes!” Morgan tossed the kid a candy from her bowl. “The midpoint crisis here upends our expectations through thought, rather than action. It is, structurally, the center, the heart of the story, changing what we believe to be true. But, are we convinced by the Creature’s definition of his humanity? Why or why--”

Morgan’s timer, the theme song of The X-Files, went off.

“Shit. Alright, that’s time everybody! Do your homework, do your reading, and get ready for Fan-Fiction Friday! And you--” She pointed to the newcomer sandwiched at the corner of the seminar table. “Come see me for a minute. The rest of you, glad you love each other, but please get out.” As the room cleared out she began to gather up her things. “I don’t like to call out guests who are here to spectate, but you seem like you might be trying out the seminar for yourself. Can I ask what brings you by? I think you’ve got one more day to add this into your schedule if you’re thinking about it.”

Had it not been for Frankie’s good grades, and because her mother had moved the sky, the sea and the Earth to convince the principal to allow her to take her finals online, she would’ve ended a high school dropout. But Frankie had been lucky, and she knew she couldn’t pass the possibility of enrolling in the local college; which was why she was sitting in the back of a classroom, listening to a college lecture. It felt good learning again, the big “nerd” sign she had carried through school across her forehead as visible as always; but it was clear that she was struggling - not because of the subject, but because there were so many colors cramped together in the room it made it hard to focus. Except for the professor, who didn’t have any. There were, apparently, more vampires than she had initially guessed.

Being called out as she tried to quietly sneak out of the room made her freeze, a visible wince showing on her face. Were listeners not allowed? She had no idea, and as she followed the professor’s instructions and walked to her desk, Frankie’s heartbeat sped up, her mouth already open to justify herself, but being cut short by the woman’s voice. Her lips pressed together, hands playing with the strap of her backpack as she thought. “I’m sorry, Mrs…. Uhm, ma’am.” Shit. Frankie didn’t even know her name, less alone the name of her class. “I entered the wrong class and I realized too late and didn’t want to interrupt...” She started saying the monologue she had practiced, but then stopped herself. A sigh. “That’s- That’s not true. I’m, uhm, looking to enroll in this college, for a... teaching major...”

“Oh, Stars, please don’t ma’am me,” Morgan said wryly. “Professor Beck is good. And so is Professor Morgan. Or just Morgan. That is my name, after all.” She listened to the girl’s story, fighting back the urge to laugh as she outed herself at her own lie. There really was no shame and no harm in the story she’d lead with. And there was even less to be embarrassed about with the truth. “Hey,” she said, warmly as she could. She could force herself to be warm in spirit, in voice, even if she couldn’t be in her body, right? “Teachers--good teachers, are the badasses that spawn other badasses. Good teaching makes everything else in the world possible. Wanting to be one is the last thing you should be afraid to admit. Especially, you know, to a teacher.” Morgan shouldered her bag and gathered the homework papers from today’s session. “Let’s walk and talk, yeah? Maybe tell me your name, how far along you are in your application?”

A soft smile formed on Frankie’s face as the woman offered her name. “Professor Morgan.” She settled, nodding softly as she continued. Maybe there was nothing surrounding Morgan, but Frankie didn’t need to see the light blue flowing around her body to know that she was a good person willing to help. She wondered if bringing up the lack of aura was a good idea, but decided that she needed college answers before asking questions about the undead. “My name’s Frankie Calloway, I just moved to this town a little over a week ago. Uhm.” As they walked, she scrambled to grab her backpack that was hanging from her shoulder, taking from it a binder filled with papers. Searching through it, she took an essay and an application, showing it to her. “I originally was going to Pittsburgh, ‘cause I got a scholarship when I applied, but uh, I decided to come here instead.” As she let the other skim through them, she hugged the filled binder against her chest, biting her lips. “And I’m… very behind considering I haven’t started yet.”

Oh, she had a binder. This kid knew what was up. Started on some things, she at least had a paper form to work off of. But--not quite making the plunge yet. Morgan couldn’t help but be endeared by the drive and relate to her nerves. How often had she wanted to reach for something she desperately wanted and then forced herself to hold back over her stupid family curse? But what was Frankie’s reason? “It’s good to meet you, Frankie. I hope you’ll think about taking the class, in the fall if not over the summer.” She lead them out the building and onto the arts quad. The weather wasn’t exactly perfect, but there were still students milling in shorts and tanks, throwing frisbees, staring into their phones as if nothing ever had or would disrupt their peace again. “Can I ask--and you can say no--but, what happened with the change up? You seem to have a lot of spirit, you’re organized, you’ve got at least some of the basics, so I just wonder--and I only wonder because I may or may not have been there before--what’s been holding you back, Frankie?”

“I’ll definitely take your class, Professor. But I don’t, uhm, think I’ll make it this summer.” Frankie’s eyes looked around at the college life, and despite all the bright colors merging together in a sea of colors that threatened to make her go blind, she couldn’t help but smile once again, full of hope. It had been a dream of hers ever since sophomore year to go away to college with her girlfriend; and though the second half now seemed impossible, she could still try and make the first part come true. The questions made her shift uncomfortably, not quite prepared to answer them. It was easy to take the easy way off and say it was personal, but lying and keeping her mouth shut would be very un-Frankie of her. It took her several seconds for her to organize her thoughts before she continued. Both arms tightened around the binder and her body, and she looked down to the floor to ignore the auras as they got closer to the students hanging out. “I really thought I had... my whole life figured out back in Nashville. Like, I was graduating valedictorian, had the most amazing girlfriend in the world-- but then she was-- it was all gone. One second to another. And--” She bit her tongue to stop herself from spilling more information. “I don’t know. I guess I just needed a fresh start.”

Morgan watched Frankie closely. There was a lot more bubbling under her surface than she was letting on. It was almost funny--how could she be so surprised at seeing someone so lost and weighted down, holding onto so much hope. Hadn’t she been that way before she died? She’d had to set down her positivity torch now and then over the years, but never her hope. Even in her last human moments, looking into Deirdre’s eyes, she’d had the hope of one more breath, one more second looking at her, one more chance to make the words come. And then she’d died, and all that hope she’d clinged to seemed foolish and out of reach. She wondered how long Frankie would be able to hang onto hers, and whether it was better to warn her of how much strain there was to follow her or to let her do her best as she would, give her a reason to keep trying. It was disorienting, not to know for sure. Two months ago, she would have. “Come on, Frankie. Summer on campus isn’t complete without at least a run to the coffee shop. You should at least get a nice preview of the maybe-future.” She lead Frankie down one of the quiet side entrances and down the stairs to one of the student cafes. “It’s hard, when your life falls apart, and you lose everything you were leaning on. It takes a lot of strength, and a lot of hope to pick yourself up again after something like that. And it takes time, starting over. So maybe you’ll be here in the fall instead, or even the spring.” She guided them towards the line, shorter now than it was during normal school time. “How’s your fresh start been going for you anyway? You’re not at the traveler’s rest are you?”

Hope. It was definitely something Frankie seemed to be clutching onto lately. Even after almost a year had passed since her girlfriend had disappeared overnight, she never stopped believing that she was out there, somewhere, waiting for her. When she had moved to a tiny town a thousand miles away from home, she had hopes that things would be alright, and she ended up meeting a caring vampire that treated her like a daughter. And if she had been right about such a big things like that, how could she believe this time would be different? The teen followed the woman, silently listening to her as they made their way to the cafeteria, the arms around herself not loosening, and her sight still digging the floor beneath her feet. “I just... can’t sit idle and pretend everything is okay.” It felt weird opening up to a complete stranger, but it also felt good, in a way. If there was something like daddy issues but with mothers, then Frankie definitely had those, and every time an older woman showed the slightest compassion, it was like a faucet had been turned on. “I’ve always wanted to go to college and-- I know I can wait, I have all the time in the world and all that but-- I just need this one thing.” Frankie finally looked up, and the emotion on her face could only be described as tired. “Just one thing going for me, to remind myself that… I’m still me, you know? That despite everything that happened and is, uhm, happening, I’m still the same Frankie from seventh grade that wants to teach tiny humans what colors are.” A shaky breath made its way through her parted lips, and she looked at the menu, mostly to avert her sight since she already knew what she wanted. “It’s been alright, just a bit… bumpy I guess. I live with this guy who’s actually pretty nice.”

It hurt to hear words Morgan had clung to for so much of her sad mortal life coming out of this girl, practically a kid still. I need this, I just want this one thing, I don’t want much, I just need to make this one thing work and then it’ll be okay. “Hey,” she said, bending down and around to catch a better glimpse of Frankie’s face. “I do know, actually. A lot. I know how hard it is, and how tired you must be.” There was a sadness of understanding behind her warm expression and soft voice. The world was so cruel to children--had it always been this way? Was there any explanation good enough to explain why Frankie had to carry what she did? Morgan at least had her reason, even a partial one, and it didn’t feel worth shit. “You are still you, Frankie. There’s no disaster or suffering that can take that away unless you really let it. You’re still here. That’s not an easy thing to hold onto, but you are. And,” her smile turned kind and knowing, opening the door to let the details Frankie’s past stay untouched if she preferred to. “It sounds like you’re navigating town alright. So, know what you want?”

Frankie’s eyes began to sting, and she had to bite her tongue to push down the urge to just start wailing in front of the professor. It was in that moment that she decided she would do whatever it took to take her class “You’re right, professor.” Not having her grandmother and mother with her also took a toll. From one day to another she had been named captain of a ship sailing through the angry ocean, and there was no one to guide her. But Morgan was right - she had to hold on tight to the rudder and continue navigating. Eyes finally locked on the woman’s, a weak smile forming on her face, followed by the tiniest nod. The fact that there wasn’t aura around her only made her easier to approach, easier to feel comfortable around her. Graham’s words about not all vampires being nice ringed in her head, but so far every single undead she had met had been nothing but nice to her. “I guess it’s hard to… not lose perspective. I know I’m still me, but… I don’t always feel that way.” Especially when there were werewolves and vampires and who knew what else slowly taking over her life. “Vanilla latte.” Frankie scrambled to take her wallet. “Please let me pay for you. It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

“Okay, enough ‘professor’ talk,” Morgan said. “Morgan is good, at least for outside of class. And I know that feeling too. When you’re in the sad pit, it’s hard to see anything straight, even yourself. But that doesn’t mean you stop trying. You always have to try, Frankie. And as far as I know, you’ve got a whole lot of life ahead of you and a whole mess of good things to reach for.” She held the girl’s gaze a moment, smiling with all the warmth and bravery she had within her. She felt a bitter pull to straighten herself up, to be as good and as strong as people seemed to think she was. She grasped for whatever piece of that she really had. She didn’t want Frankie to know how she still found herself struck paralysed and numb by the nothing-feeling of the sun on her skin, even with Felix’s magic pills. Or how bitterly and pointlessly her mortal life had ended. That it hadn’t mattered what hope she placed into the universe or how many times she had pulled herself up. She wanted to signal some kind of validation for her hope. She seemed like a good kid, and maybe it was selfish, but Morgan wanted to believe that some girl would have it fairer, better. She reached out and squeezed Frankie’s shoulder, lightly in a way she had now practiced often. The student in front of them stepped aside to the pickup counter and Morgan gave the vanilla latte order.

“Anything else?” The cashier asked.

“Nope!” Morgan said, swiping her card. “Sorry,” she said, smirking at Frankie. “I hope you don’t mind the trick, but I can’t have anything here anyways. And you don’t seem the type to take a little gift easy.”

It felt nice having a grown up reassuring that, at least in theory, things would be okay. The cold hand on her shoulder only confirmed what she had already known: Morgan was definitely not human and almost definitely a vampire, but then again, they had just walked in broad daylight like nothing, so could there be different types of them? She lost herself in that thought for a moment, not realizing what Morgan had done until it was too late. Frankie just stared at the woman fool her, dumbfoundedly pointing at the cashier with one finger before turning it to the professor. And she just stared for a couple seconds until it clicked, before erupting in laughter, covering his mouth with the hand holding the wallet, tears quickly forming on the corner of her eyes as she continued laughing. It was such a small thing, and there was no way in heaven Morgan knew what she had just done, but her grandma used to do the same little trick on her when they were young and she tried to use her allowance money to buy both of them an ice cream. Without meaning to, Morgan had made her feel more Frankie than she had since she had arrived in town. “Thank you.” She just said as the laughter died in chipper resignation but determined to pay her back in the future, and then wiped the corner of her eyes before shoving all her stuff back in her backpack. If she was thanking her for the memories or for the coffee, even Frankie wasn’t sure. Perhaps both. “I’ll let it go if you tell me more about your class.” Coffee in hand, the teen motioned to an empty table, a smile on her face, before she started bombing her with questions.

[wiseabsol]

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? 6. Favorite character you’ve written? 14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?) 15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? 19. How do you cope with writer’s block? 24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? 33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? 34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? 

My favorite part is when you make discoveries about your world and your characters as you write the story down, and when you write something and go, “Oh, there we go, there’s the solution to this problem that was going to come up later.” For example, I recently had an evil mentor toying with a magical item while giving a lecture to his pupils. The magical item was mundane--essentially, just putty that you could mold into whatever shape you wanted, then solidify, then switch back to putty to reshape. And as I was writing that down, I went, “Oh, THAT’S what my protagonist is going to knock him out with down the line. That’s way better than her using a lamp. Excellent.” 

My least favorite part about writing is getting started. Once I’ve cleared the hurtle of the blank page, writing becomes much easier and more exciting. But getting myself to start has become much harder since I developed my editor/critic’s brain.  

6. Favorite character you’ve written? 

In one of the text-based rps I’m writing with my best friend, I’m playing a shapeshifter named Sparrow, who is charming, funny, flirty, politically-savvy, and super vain about his appearance (think a courtesan-type character). He also has one of the most gut-wrenching backstories of any character I’ve ever written, and is struggling with triggers from that backstory. His romance with my best friend’s character is also my favorite romance that I’ve written with her, and it came as a surprise to both of us, since we were just testing out the characters at the time.   

14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?) 

I do a lot of brainstorming and outlining, though my outlines aren’t plot-related ones so much as very detailed character summaries. I’ve honestly been struggling with plot lately, but I’ve been doing better character work, so I’m winging it more now. While I usually have a general idea of how the story goes, the actual writing of it clarifies the details and makes changes to my plans. On the bright side, the results are less stilted than my old work, since they’re not chained to plot outlines, but stem from the characters more organically.  

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing?

I’ve started telling myself, “Fuck it, let it be messy, I’ll fix it later.” Letting go of perfectionism is hard for me, but doing so has been helping.   

19. How do you cope with writer’s block? 

Honestly, the best way to cope with writer’s block is to just try something and see if it sticks, or leave yourself a note and skip ahead in the story to something you want to write. However, as I mentioned in an earlier ask, I haven’t been able to do much writing lately. And that’s hard, because I feel guilty for not writing, and I know if I just do it, I’ll feel better. Which is a bad mindframe to be in, especially because this year has been awful. I’ve been telling other writers to be gentle on themselves, because it’s hard to be creative when you’re stressed, but I struggle to take my own advice. So right now, I’m trying to give myself permission not to write, and to instead focus on other things. Editing. Reading. Playing videogames. Baking. Doing house/yardwork. Something to still ticks things off of my to do list, but also things that I can look at and see, “Yes, you did get something done.” It’s not a perfect system, and it does fall into the productivity trap, but it’s what I’m trying. When the stress passes, maybe then I can dive back into writing.  

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? 

I think it was when I was applying for undergraduate college. I wrote in my application essay that I wanted to write stories that would show my readers that things can get better for them. I was writing as a hobby before then, but I think that’s when I decided that yeah, I wanted making stories to be a part of my future, and I wanted to write stories that I could publish someday. 

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? 

Mostly I end up rewriting the chapter or story in question. Draft one is for realizing and getting down the idea of the thing. Draft two is refining it to that thing and losing all of the flab that the story doesn’t need. Often I have another file on the side where I paste in what I’ve cut out, in case I change my mind and want to add it back in later, or in case I can use it in another project. I also save the original messy draft and do the cutting in a copied file. That way, I can reassure myself that the original still exists for me, and I can reread it when I’m feeling self-indulgent, but I’m also only giving the best version to my readers.  

34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

-- Writing every day is a good idea, and does work well for the writing process, but it’s an unrealistic standard to hold yourself to, especially if you have a day job, kids, and other adult responsibilities. Don’t feel guilty if you can’t write every day. The guilt is just going to make you freeze up instead of returning to the work. Be gentle with your expectations for yourself.  

-- If you’re including triggering or sensitive subjects in your work, and are planning to share that work with others (and ESPECIALLY if you’re planning to profit from that work), you should be doing your research about those subjects, portraying them as accurately as possible, and asking yourself if your story really needs that content to work. It is also a good idea to employ sensitivity screeners for that content, especially if you’re writing from a place of privilege and/or don’t have personal experience with the issues that you’re depicting.

-- Once the work is out there, no one has the right to ban it. They can be critical of it, yes. But not ban it.  

-- Writers of privilege must include diversity within their work, even if they’re scared of getting their depictions of people from other genders, races, classes, religions, and so on wrong. And they will get it wrong. When that happens, just apologize and try to do better in the future. But staying in your lane is a bad idea, for three reasons: 1.) You should be striving to have empathy for others, and you can’t do that if you’re only writing about people who are similar to you. 2.) Writers of privilege have an easier time getting their work published, and so should be trying to push the market/publishing industry into a more diverse direction. And 3.) You should be showing readers of privilege that the world is a diverse one, rather than catering to their narrow worldview.

-- Getting defensive when someone is critical of your work is perfectly natural, but it’s also dumb. It’s so, so dumb. You have made a product, and no product made by human hands is perfect, and every writer has blind spots. So when someone is critical of your work, try to keep this in mind: this is not an attack on you. Let yourself feel the hurt in private, and eat lots of ice cream, and when you’re feeling better, look at the criticism and ask yourself: What led the reader to this conclusion? How can I fix it? What can I learn from this? This is assuming that the critic is working with you in good faith, by the way; sometimes they’re completely off of the mark, or are upset because you didn’t give them the story that they wanted. But if someone is going, “Hey, this is a little racist/sexist/homophobic/ableist/etc.,” sit up and listen. And for the love of god, don’t fight them over it. You’ll make yourself look like an ass. 

-- Don’t workshop your story too early. Try to get a full draft down before you submit something for consideration. For one thing, you’re still figuring out what your story actually is. For another, writing workshops, while useful, have a tendency to pull your work to the middle / make it more acceptable to a general audience. Sometimes this will soften and even kill your bravest writing. Instead, use writing workshops as an opportunity to find writers who understand the themes you’re aiming for and the subjects that you’re discussing. Their input will be what you need.  

-- With the current laws about copyright infringement, getting paid for your fanfic is a bad idea. If you want that to change, then fight to make the laws more lenient. As if it, you’re risking screwing over other fanfic writers by doing that. Does that suck? Yeah. But that’s also the reality we live in right now, and you’re not going to have a good time if a corporation like Disney slams you with lawsuits.

-- Genres like fantasy, science fiction, horror, romance/erotica, and murder mysteries are real literature. Saying they’re not has its roots in classism. 

-- There is no such thing as apolitical writing. 

-- Poets are underrated. Support them. Most of the time, they’re doing braver and more socially-important work than you are, and they’re doing it concisely, too.     

-- Your first draft is going to suck. This is a good thing. You learn a lot more from bad prose than from good prose, more often than not. 

-- Having your work rejected by publishers really is nothing personal. Sometimes it just wasn’t a good fit for them at that moment in time. If they’re interested in seeing more from you in the future, though, keep them on your list and send them something else during their next screening period. They don’t say that unless they mean it.         

[perhaps-a-pencil]

Tips for Writing College Essays

Well, it’s that time of year again, and as someone who only recently survived the gauntlet that is college applications, I’m more than happy to share a few tips.

For your commonapp/personal essay:

DO NOT make this your list of accomplishments. They will get a resume for that. This essay is your chance to show them what sets you apart from other candidates and give them a glimpse into who you are. That could mean a hobby that has shaped you (I did mine about writing), a meaningful personal experience, some piece of art/writing/music that is important to you and why, ect. 

Don’t be afraid to show your voice. When writing these, it’s easy to try and slip into a more formal voice intended for informative essays. Write professionally, but casually (no slang, unless it really fits the moment, and try to avoid cliches). Make it true to you.

If you are struggling to come up with an idea, do a brainstorming session. Get a blank document and jot down every idea that comes to mind about things, moments, people, or actions that have shaped you. Try to find something that shows you learning a good theme in a positive light (colleges like to know that you can face challenges and learn from them).

Make sure the one you settle on shows things about you, doesn’t make excuses for your past behavior/mistakes and instead shows how they helped you grow as a person (if you decide to go with a personal story)

Show them an answer to the question: Why do I deserve to get into this school?

On the other hand, don’t say “I deserve to get into this school because...” Instead, describe the event/hobby/moment you chose and let it answer the question for you. 

If you are going to tell a story in your essay, there’s a good general structure you can follow to help get you started. The word limits below are assuming there is a 650 word limit. Obviously this can differ depending on the pacing of your writing or the kind of personal story you are telling, so do whatever you need to do to write a solid essay!

Intro (0-50 words): Here, touch on the theme or lesson you are going to explore. Try to start with a relevant hook, and like any story, these can be dialogue, description, action, or simply intriguing statements relevant to essay. Successful intros often hint at the theme the essay is about to explore, by starting at a different time than the rest of the essay, or show a glimpse of what happens as a result of the personal growth you are about to describe.

Setup (50-150 words): Take a step back and start to tell the story from the beginning. Introduce the important people, settings, and situations that led to...

Conflict (50-150 words): What challenge did you face? How did it make you feel? It helps if the setup explains, at least in part, why this conflict is so important. If that needs more elaboration, now is the time to show it. Why does this conflict matter?

Reaction (100-200 words): Now that you’ve faced this problematic situation, how did you respond? In retrospect, was it the right thing to do? The wrong thing? If anyone or anything guided you along the way, now is the time to explain how their influence benefited you and helped you get through this challenge.

Conclusion (50-100 words): Now, solidify the theme of your essay. Tie it back to the intro if you can (mention the same dialogue/description/action). Make sure you show what you learned and how this experience changed you - into a stronger, more prepared person.

For “Why this School” Essays

BE SPECIFIC. You need to show this school why they are the perfect fit for you. Mention professors doing research you would like to be involved in, or study abroad opportunities unique to that college, or how that one specific club would mean the world to you, or how the community there feels perfect and here’s why.

Do a little research, and show it off. Show the colleges that you know who they are and what they can offer you. This demonstrates that you care about the university and have interest in its opportunities, and will immediately set you apart from students who copy and past their “why this school” essay for each university they are applying to.

If you are doing this right, you will have to rewrite the essay for each university. It should be that specific to the school. 

Be sincere. Touch on what really interests you about this school - you’re applying for a reason, right? Show them that once you get there, you’ll be involved and contribute to their community.

The good thing about these essays is that once you have a general formula, all you need to do is some research and write it out. These are generally shorter than personal essays, but still try to have a good hook at the start and a solid conclusion at the end. I wouldn’t recommend trying to make a thematic statement out of this one; the word limit is simply too low and it could muddle the point you are trying to get across, which is “I like this school because it has these COOL things!”

Again, all of this advice is just what I’ve learned from reading a few books about college essays and going through the application process myself. If it helps, I was able to get into my top school (no Ivy Leagues though) so take or leave what works for you. It is not a comprehensive list or anything, but it might be enough to help you get started if you aren’t sure how to tackle the next few months of essays and resumes and interviews.

Well, I hope it helps! If you have any questions feel free to ask. My friends are just getting started in the process so I wanted to share some advice to them and anyone else who needs it.

Good luck! 

[thespeedyreader]

The Oxbridge application process

Hey, stxdywarrior here! I’ve recently just applied to Cambridge University to study English, and I wanted to share my tips and experiences to help you if you’re interested in applying. First of all, if you’re applying to Oxford or Cambridge, that’s great! They’re both amazing universities, and applying is going to be challenging but so rewarding. I have no doubt that you’ll excel, whatever you want to do.

Please share this and add to it if you wish to!

A quick note: While this masterpost is general, I have to stress that lots of these tips may only apply to humanities subjects. I don’t have much to say about the sciences, I’m afraid. If you are applying for a science, however, I still hope you can find some great content in here for you.

UCAS application

Okay, first thing’s first: the application itself. Applying to Oxbridge is different because you have to have your UCAS form sent by October 15th (while everyone else has the luxury of waiting until January), and while that sounds stressful, it’s a great feeling to get it done early, trust me. And this means having applied to ALL your chosen universities, not just Oxford or Cambridge.

Another thing that’s different about Oxbridge is that they’re collegiate universities, so you’ll have to choose a college. Or, you can choose to make an open application, meaning you’ll be assigned a college later by the university. Don’t stress too much about this stage - people choose certain colleges for all sorts of reasons, and they’re all good anyway. I chose my college because it was small and had good student wellbeing services.

Because the deadline is so early, I would recommend you start thinking about your personal statement by Summer, so that when you get back in September, you can hit the ground running. Here are a few tips I have for your personal statement:

 Get all the help you can. And by this I mean: ask everyone you know who might be helpful to have a look over it. This means teachers, family members, classmates, and anyone you know who’s recently been through the same process you are going through.

That being said, make sure all of the opinions don’t leave you at see. I found it really hard when one person was telling me one thing and another was telling me the opposite, but I learned to balance my OWN judgements with other peoples’.

Don’t worry about the character count until your last drafts. Make sure you nail the content first.

It doesn’t matter how many drafts you have to get through, as long as you save all the drafts. I think I got through like 14 drafts?

Don’t JUST write it for Oxbridge. What I mean is, the other universities on your list matter too. So even though Oxbridge don’t care much about your extracurriculars, that doesn’t mean you should ignore them.

It isn’t about quantity, it’s about quality. Even if you’ve only done a few things, if you write about them well, then they’re still just as impressive.

A tip not everyone hears is that the universities want to hear about your personal response to things. Don’t just say you read a book; say how it made you feel, and why you were interested in it. Use phrases like ‘I was fascinated by’ and ‘this intrigued me’. I’m serious.

Remember that your personal statement is literally the hardest piece of writing you have to do. It’s easy to feel daunted by it, but there are plenty of resources out there to help.

Supplementary Application Questionnaire (Cambridge only)

If you’ve applied to Cambridge, you’ll soon get ask to do the SAQ. This isn’t a big deal, but it’s quite a long form to fill out, so it’s best to do it carefully and start early. You’ll be asked things like what modules you’ve studied in your a levels, and you have to include a profile photo of yourself. At the end, you can also write an additional personal statement. This is optional, but just for reference, my one included some things I’d done that I hadn’t included on my personal statement, and I related them to some of the specific modules on the Cambridge course.

Entrance exams

Depending on which subject you’re applying for, you may be asked to sit an exam. This will be typically registered through your school or college, and it’s important to make sure you sign up before the deadline (which will be set by your school). The exams happen around late October.

As I was applying for English, I took the ELAT (English Literature Admissions Test). In the ELAT I was given six texts (poems or novel excerpts), all linked by a theme, and I had to pick two to ‘compare and contrast’. So there was no set structure, and I couldn’t strictly revise for it. In terms of preparation, you can find past papers, and it also helps to do language analysis of some unseen poetry just so you’re used to it. You will NEVER be tested on things you don’t know; they’re more looking for the way you form and present an argument.

Essay submission

Depending on which subject you’re applying for (mainly humanities), you may be asked by email to submit essays to your chosen college. I was asked to send in two essays that I’d done in a school setting (I got to choose, whew), and I needed to print four copies of each (no idea why) and get my teachers to sign it to prove it was my work. The essays can’t be edited.

One thing to note is that, while Oxford usually let you email them, Cambridge are still in the Dark Ages and will only receive them by post. So if you’re applying to Cambridge and are a confused millennial like me, who literally never uses post, I’d get the essays in early.

Another thing is that my college constantly emailed me reminders about the essay deadline, so unless you live under a rock you can’t miss it.

The interview

As the final stage of the application process, you will (hopefully!) be invited to interview. They’ll let you know by email in late November. Cambridge typically invite about 80% of applicants, whereas Oxford invite less, which I think is about 50%. So if you get an interview, congratulations! And don’t panic. People say it’s the biggest factor in the process, when in reality the universities treat each part of your application equally.

Interviews are done differently by each university. In Oxford, you’ll be asked to stay at your college for a few days, because not only do your college interview you, but your application is sent around other colleges, so you could be invited to interview at another college at any time. (Sorry I can’t shed more light on this, as I didn’t apply to Ox.) In Cambridge, you only get interviewed by one college, and you have the option of staying overnight or just going for the day.

How to prepare:

While you don’t need to go overboard with this one, do read a lot around your subject in the few weeks beforehand, so that if they ask, “so, what have you been reading lately?”, you’ve got a lot to say.

If you have the opportunity to do a practise interview, take it. My school organised one for me, but even if your school doesn’t, find someone - like a teacher - who can do it for you. Even if it’s them just grilling you on your personal statement, at least you’ll be used to articulating your arguments in an interview setting.

If you sent in essays, make sure you read over those essays beforehand. They asked me about one of mine.

Map out some generic questions that they might ask you. For English, for example, I researched questions like, “is it better to read a play or see it in production?” and “what’s the difference between literacy and literature?” and even “what is literature?”

You’ll be notified by email the professors who will be interviewing you. I’d recommend looking them up (they’ll be on your college website) and finding out what they specialise in.

Read over your personal statement as many times as you have to. They’re very likely to ask you about something on there.

This sounds cliche, but PLEASE look after yourself before the interview. It always takes place right at the end of a really busy term, so watch out for colds and things (I’m telling you this because I was recovering from a chest infection when I interviewed, and had only just got my voice back RIP)

The interview itself

If you’re doing a humanities subject, you might be given a source or written extract to look at before one of the interviews, and then they’ll discuss it with you. I’d bring lots of highlighters for you to annotate. (I was expected to just be given a poem for English, but I actually got a poem AND part of a critical essay. Go figure.)

No one cares what you’re wearing. I mean, wear sensible stuff, but there’s no need to try to hard.

This is a bit random, but my teacher told me to make a list of all the things I love about my second choice university the night before, to remind myself that Oxbridge isn’t everything. Believe it or not, it worked.

You have to expect to be put on the spot, and this means on-your-feet thinking. I heard they can smell a rehearsed answer from a mile away.

When you’re waiting to interview, you’ll probably meet loads of other applicant like you. It’s up to you whether you chat with them or not - I know some people like to keep themselves to themselves to keep their focus, while I personally loved getting to know people, as chatting helped me stay calm. Either way, everyone’s in the same boat, so don’t worry.

If you’re like me, and easily get distracted by social media, I’d recommend staying off it for the whole day if you can. I did this, and it helped me protect my mental space and keep out negative thoughts.

Some of your interviewers might come across as a bit scary. They might also disagree with everything you say, which can be off-putting. Try not to worry too much if this happens - stand your ground.

When you make an argument, be prepared to justify it, but also, if you want to change your mind, do it. The interviewers are looking for a teachable mind, not someone who’s right all the time and knows everything, so show you have an open mind.

Once the interview’s over, all you have to do is get some well-deserved rest and wait! Try not to overthink how it went, because in reality you have no idea. Some people think they did awfully, but end up getting an offer, so.

The decision

Okay, here’s the truth: Oxbridge is not the be-all and end-all. It just isn’t. Your worth and intelligence cannot be defined by an institution.

For when you’re waiting for a decision: think of Oxbridge as a bonus. This is what I did: I had another university as my ‘first choice’, so that Cambridge was just an extra.

If you don’t get an offer: You will be so happy at wherever you decide to go instead. Think of it as Oxford or Cambridge’s loss, not yours - hundreds of applicants who are very much smart enough to get a place don’t, and that isn’t because they aren’t good enough.

While it’s okay to feel disappointed, it’s best to focus on the amazing learning experience that applying has been. You’ve shown yourself that you can handle all that while still maintaining your priorities and sense of self. So you should STILL be proud.

If you do get an offer: Congratulations! Party time. Except it’s not time to party just yet, because you’ve still got to get the a level grades to secure your spot.

I hope this helped! Don’t hesitate to ask me anything else you want to know.

Just tagging a few people who have been through the same process/have asked about it: @rebeccaravenclaw @littlebitofstudy @lesbianlondongrammar @sectumsempracurse

[rivkahstudies]

4.4.2019 7:28 PM | a resurrection and a reflection ;

First of all, I'm back (kinda)! I am gearing up for finals in about 4 weeks and I want to finish the semester strong--both academically and on Tumblr. As a little catch-up, here are my last three spreads of Periwinkle, which chronicled my second year of bullet journaling. To bring in themes of wishes fulfilled, long-lasting joy, and positive energy, my third year is called Dandelion.

I don't want to take too long to write this because I have an essay to get to, haha, but wow. How do I say all I want to say? I'm finishing my second year of bullet journaling AND I'm getting close to my second anniversary of this blog. I have grown so much in my relationships, my study habits, and my ability to love and care for myself. I've started new languages, met my roommate @hagrastudies through a studyblr discord, and gotten into my dream college. I've made the best friends I could ask for ( @student-succulent @pinetreestudies @thekingsstudy @theonlysaylor @coffeeandpies and so many more) and met so many other lovely and bright people. All of you inspire me so much.

The reason I started bullet journaling was because I was dissatisfied with how I used premade planners. There never seemed to be enough space or flexibility. I never in my wildest dreams thought that it would evolve into such an outlet of creativity and productivity for me. Through it I can have a diary, a planner, and a sketchbook all in one. But most importantly, rather than chronicling my life through diary entries, the evolution of my doodles and the checklists I make show how I reached my goals and discovered new things. There's evidence of papers, applications, interviews, extracurriculars, and adventures in Chrysanthemum and Periwinkle. And I firmly believe there will be many more in Dandelion. I almost stopped at one point because some studyblrs feel discouraged by fancy bujos and condemn them as time-wasting or attention-seeking. But even when I don't post these on my tumblr, they serve as a critical form of creative expression I don't get otherwise in my hectic college life. Most times the spreads are the only artistic things I do, and so I am grateful that I told myself, "No, do what you love, as if no one is watching."

I have 4,998 followers. I have no idea where you all came from or what first drew you to me, but I am so grateful that I get to embark on these journeys with each and every one of you. You teach, guide, motivate, and empower me. Here's to many more successes together.

Love,

Rivkah

P.S.: my inbox will be checked again soon and I will answer all you lovelies asap 💙

[correresmidestinoweb-blog]

How to Write a Paper in One Night

Being in college is a chore. It takes a lot of work, carefully planned over the course of a week, or a month, or a quarter to make sure everything gets done with the full attention it deserves….are you laughing yet? No one puts in the time "required" to properly complete their college work. No, rather it's a rush at the end every week or two to complete a 10 page paper or learn 200 years of ancient Roman history overnight. You all do it, I did it. It's probably a better training skill than all the random stuff you "learn", because honestly in real life do you think you'll have the time to sit and schedule everything that pops into your life ahead of time. Yeah…thought not.

Anyways, for those of you just entering college from the snore inducing boredom and ease of High School, you're probably incredibly unprepared for the shear amount of work you'll have to pull out in the last second. I'm not saying it's easy just because you'll procrastinate. No, it's still hard. You really should take the time to do your work properly. You just won't, and so you need to learn how to procrastinate. It's a fine art, in which I feel I've become something of a Renoir.

First off, make sure you've got all your books and notes. If you don't go to class, which is entirely likely for those of the procrastinating ilk, make sure you get them from a classmate. Also, double check and make sure your professor doesn't have a website. They'll usually tell you, but more than once I've found a class's notes sitting in an archive online, especially now that 90% of them put everything they teach you into PowerPoint presentations and then just read it to you for an hour every day (yeah, lazy). It's usually only an extra 30 seconds out of their day to put the stuff online, and then when they receive twenty plus emails a week asking for the lecture notes, they only have to point you to the website. Well, some are a bit more facetious about their pupils not even bothering to come to class and don't openly offer said notes. However, for sick students and whatnot, they'll put them online to save paper and all it takes is a couple of quick Google searches or an email to a sick student and you've got your notes. Or…just ask a classmate. But then you're relying on them actually paying attention.

You should have your books too. If you never bothered buying them because you would just take notes or go to sparknotes, then you'd better go buy them, because BSing your way through a paper is going to take at least some resources. You can't magically ascertain the information from just being near smarter people. School would be much easier if that were the case.

So, sit down and start reading. Yup, you're going to be reading a lot the night before your work is due. But, this is better than doing all the assigned reading, because now you're searching for specific information. Instead of general learning (which would only stick around and clutter up your brain later) you're doing targeted research. An eighth the time, and none of that pesky remembering it. You should have your topic at least. If not, start surfing message boards and snag one from someone smarter than you. Don't ever take their work though. The last thing you need is to get kicked out of school for plagiarism. It's lazy and embarrassing. Steal concepts, but never words. And if you steal a concept from the middle of their work, cite them. Your university will not take kindly to cheating. You'll be so red taped and black listed, you might as well go and get an application at Jack in the Box, and trust me you don't want to work in fast food.

You can't procrastinate now. You've done that for three weeks, so I'm sorry (I know it hurts), but in terms of actual physical writing time, you'll need at least three hours to type your paper, which speaks nothing of writing it. And writing it involves finding quotations and that ever so pesky chore of thinking. Sit down, grab an energy drink and a bag of chips, close your door and put some headphones on. No television, and put your phone on the charger. Now open up the word processor and just start typing.

You probably think you have writer's block. But, writer's block is completely unrelated to having absolutely no idea what you're talking about. You're stuck with the second one right now, so just keep on reading on your topic and finding bits and pieces to put together.

The thing here that most people don't realize is that the standard writing process isn't in effect for you. You're not drafting, or brainstorming. That's the stuff you should have done two weeks ago. No, you're writing your paper, so make sure you've got your idea and just start writing and keep writing until you create a thesis somehow.

I usually start as broad as possible, and just start talking about something. If I'm writing about the Hero Quest of Pip in Great Expectations, I start by talking about Greek Mythology and the origin of the classical hero. Working my way down, I'll talk about the modern hero, then about the alterations made in the industrial age, and how Dickens rewrote archetypes for his comedy, and finally start talking about Pip. By now you should have a general idea about what you want to say. It might be general but you'll clarify in your next few paragraphs, and then come back and rewrite the first paragraph.

Paragraph one is almost always trash. Especially with this method, because your weary, angered professor after reading 30 of these lovely last minute essays will put a big red X through anything that doesn't have to do with your paper, and those first few grasping sentences are completely unrelated. But now you can start stealing from the text. Snag a quote and make a point. Snag another quote and make another point. If your thesis ends up as something incredibly broad and useless like "Pip's quest from anonymity and worthlessness into a position of wealth and power in London mirrors the classical hero quests, but works through Dickensian views of industrial England" you're still good. It sounds intelligent and has a lot of promise. Now just find specific quotes and build a narrative. Start at the beginning of his change, talk about his childhood, then go to when he changes, then compare to the Hero quests of old, then show how they're different.

Almost any paper, if written quickly can boil down to something simple and incredibly easy to write, a compare and contrast paper. You choose a prominent theme from the book you just "read". Find a source that mirrors or better yet foils this theme and compare the two. Don't just list how they're different though. That's high school stuff right there. You'll want to write exactly how the outside source changes what you think of your book. It sounds hard but jus think about it. You've got Great Expectations. It has a main character who goes on a kind of quest. Now you have a classic archetype of which there are hundreds of sources to draw on. You take a basic outline of this archetype and apply it to Pip's quest and how he fits it, and when he doesn't fit it. Now you finish your paper by describing why he doesn't fit it sometimes. Which gets you back to the Dickensian views part. You've just pretty much written a paper that says, Pip's quest is classic but different because Dickens was writing about a different time in human history. Incredibly simple; you're not telling anyone anything new, but three things will guarantee a good grade.

If you write well at all. You've got to be a halfway decent writer, which if you're in college I'll assume you are.

Professors love outside references. It shows initiative and research and makes it seem like you did extra work (which you didn't). I've written papers overnight without drafts and without ever reading them back to myself and received comments that I must have spent hours working on it. Not quite.

Confidence in your assertions. Say everything with absolute certainty, and back it up with a quote. Do this enough and even if you're wrong, it'll seem like you've made a decent point, which gets you brownie points.

Writing a paper is a tumultuous task but it's also a scalable task that can be made incredibly quick and easy if you know how. My second to last quarter of college, I wrote three order thesis  papers in two days; two of them 10 pages, and one 25 pages, and received a 3.8, and two 3.7s. It's a matter of confidence and above all else an unmitigated fearlessness to be incredibly lazy.

[thiinka]

Hey there! I know I’m a stranger but I was recently admitted to CUI (which I heard you attend?) and I was wondering your personal opinion on it! I think it’s an awesome school but I’m not entirely sure if I want to attend, ya know? Could you offer some advice? Thank you either way!

Oh heck yeah! I’m really curious as to who you are and how you found out I go to CUI, haha.

Personally? I love this school and the time I’ve spent here, and I’ve had moments walking across campus thinking, “I’m so glad I went here,” no joke. There are several reasons for that: small size of basically everything, the faculty, the location, and the cafeteria (mostly). 

Everything is small here. You can walk across campus in 5 minutes. The classes are always under 30 students (except for precious few general classes like the freshman intro class and general physical fitness lecture) and I’ve mostly been in classes of 10 or under in my majors’ classes (Math and Graphic Design). Also kinda on the topic of rooms, the dorm rooms are cushy comparatively to other dorms. The non-quad buildings are suite-style and the quads are apartment-style, with a toilet and shower per 4 students, not a floor of students sharing a stall bathroom. Also, you don’t have those brick walls that a lot of other universities have, you can actually put thumbtacks into these walls. And there are professors in residence! I live in the Uppers Quads, where there are 3 separate families of professors with their kids, and personally? I love it. Uppers has always felt like a big ol’ family to me, especially with hall events.

The small size helps out the faculty, and all the professors I’ve had except for like... one or two have been amazing and passionate about what they’re teaching. I took a look on your profile and it looks like you like history and psychology? I’m not even in those areas and I still have personal experience/positive grapevine talk about those professors. For me, Dr. Armstrong (also highly involved with Honors goings-on) was the professor who got me to finally like history in CHST 201 after high school killed it for me, partially because Ancient Greek and Roman history is his baby. He also takes students on Getty Villa field trips at least once every semester, once to see the play that happens out there, and it’s great. Dr. Cosgrove was my professor for Intro to Psychology, and she was fantastic with a class of 4 students including me! I know about other professors (Flores, Francisco, Karges, Matthews) and that they all have excellent reputations. Word of mouth is swift here, and you *will* get recommendations on whose classes to take. It’s a bit more likely that adjuncts will provide inferior learning, but faculty who care about the students interview them, so it’s not nearly as bad as a large university.

Personally, my experience with the Mathematics and Art faculty has been so amazing. Math (Prof Melberg and Dr.s Croll, Schulteis, Taylor) and Art (Soo, Hayes, Dunham, Kruger) are all so invested in their students’ success, no matter if it’s a GE or a major-specific course. There’s also a bit of group discussion encouraged as a mix with traditional lecture at least for Math.

Additionally, I’m in the string orchestra, and while ensemble directors all have this “Music is the only thing you should be focusing on” attitude to some extent, I really love interacting with them. Also, they’re super helpful in networking with theater and church gigs if you ask (Dr. Held recommended me to one of the theater profs, Dr. Vezner, to play violin, and subsequently got pulled back for nice paying gigs several times). Not as applicable if you’re not in music, but we will have the new music and theology building open for use starting I think in Fall 2019. And even if you’re not in music, we have *so many* great performances for strings, winds, choir, *handbells*, and the mini theater productions. CUI (and our donors) really loves the arts, man. 

The location is excellent, especially if you’re from out-of-state. Irvine is literally ranked the safest city in California, and UCI with all of its amenities (the library!!) and other fun stuff (University Town Center, Woodbridge area) is right next door. You’re a stone’s throw from the beach and the mountains and theme parks and several malls (The Spectrum, South Coast Plaza, Fashion Island, The District). Some of these places are 100% close enough to walk or bike to, and I’ve done so many times. I guarantee at some point you’ll make friends with someone who has a car, or if not, there’s a shuttle service that goes out on weekends.

And finally the cafeteria. It’s comparatively better than other college cafeterias in my opinion. There’s always something you’ll want to eat; just don’t let Senior Preview Day trick you on the daily quality of the food! Also, breakfast is consistently good, since you can order eggs and omelettes how you’d like them. Meal plans work on an allotted x meals a week deal, starting on Monday, at either 19, 14, or 10, or you can appeal to have no meal plan past freshman year in case of dietary stuff. 

Some cons? If you’re not too into Jesus then the required Theology (Old Testament and New Testament) probably won’t be cool. The school *is* affiliated with LCMS Lutheranism, and I’ve had my fair share of Catholic vs Protestant joking around with professors. All Theology and some History profs are Lutheran pastors. As a very personal note for when I turned 21, the campus is a dry campus for the sake of reducing liability issues, and it’s pretty frustrating to me. If you eventually have a car, parking is free but holy crap is it hard to find a parking space sometimes!! I’m not involved in sports, but we apparently do well?? but we don’t have a football team. The bureaucracy has gotten really congested with clubs and orgs over the past 5 years I’ve been here. 

But I mean, in short? Like I said way up there, sometimes I get moments where I’m walking across campus and I think, “I love this place and I’m so glad I came here of all places.” I met my rock-solid group of close friends and my boyfriend (long story) here, I have professors who I really do consider friends (and for the end-of-the-year math dept. dinner? Almost like family! Three of them are moms!) and who are so invested in my and other students’ success, and I believe I can truly say I've grown tremendously as a person while going to CUI because of these people. 

That, uh... mini-essay kinda encapsulates my personal experience with and feelings about CUI. I definitely recommend campus visits to each college you’re accepted to if you’re undecided and able to, though. Good luck picking where you want to go, and I hope this helped you understand CUI better!

[the2020projects-works]

Writing can be a thorny chore. To come up with authentic ideas that are relevant enough to keep the reader entertained requires a lot of creativity and compromise. And to create a serious writing routine is even harder: the world, unfortunately, doesn’t stop when we are writing (although it feels like it does), and we are caught up in the middle of all types of obstacles that keep our minds busy and bodies and spirits stressed on a daily basis, sucking away what we so call ‘inspiration’. So, what to do when all the inspiration is gone?

Stick to the routine

It’s hard to create a routine, no matter what are you trying to achieve when you stablish it; sometimes it’s for a job, a class or family, in any case, real world requires our full commitment and dedication, so we often find ourselves obliged to create alternative ways to stick to the calendar, otherwise we will be sucked up by reality and enter a spiral of procrastination.

I’m not saying routines are easy, not at all. They demand a lot of persistence and focus, which are things people in general lack of, nowadays. Take me for example. I spend the entire morning away from home to study. I come back at two pm and go over all the classes I had that day, which includes resumes and tests. Considering I’m not the fastest student and that I also have plenty of classes during the morning — ignoring, of course, all the afternoon setbacks -, I finish everything around seven or eight pm and by that time, I’m pretty exhausted, so to speak. To keep in track with my writing schedule is something almost impossible to maintain and, trust me, I’ve tried many things…

1000 words per day: this is something I’ve read from a column here on Medium, apparently many writers — including Stephen King — have a goal of words to write daily, which is very helpful to develop your creativity and general writing skills. I was able to keep that same routine and stick to it very persistently for about… four days?

Write topics whenever the ideas come then build them up at home: the ideas might be good, but we must be realistic here; they don’t come all the time nor everyday. Sometimes we’re just too busy to even come up with those and, even when we do have good topics, to develop them at some point later is not effective. The best moment is always now.

Keep a night journal: I didn’t even put much effort into it, that I’ll admit. Journals are great ideas and I’ve always written a lot of those during my childhood, specially, but at this precise occasion in my life, I don’t have any energy left to do that when I’m about to go to bed.

Keep a regular notebook next to me and write small pieces whenever I get the chance: okay, that’s not exactly something we can call a routine. I really just find it very helpful to always keep my small notepad next to me wherever I go and my poetical side often comes out at some point. I write it all down and then, when I have the chance, I review it and make the proper changes. I’ve lost the habit to do it lately, I used to frequently take notes on small things and perspectives or even emotions I had. That’s something I’m trying to add back to my habits.

Now, of course, those are just a few things I’ve tried over the years, some of them worked out better than others, but that’s something personal, not a pattern. Mr. King is perfectly capable of writing two thousand words daily while some of us have to humbly stick to less ambitious routines. But the key is not to set up goals you’ll easily achieve. Create the habit to challenge yourself, that’s the only way you’ll see effective improvement in wherever you’re mind is set up to. I might be just a seventeen years old high school girl who knows little about life, but I can proudly say I’ve been developing my writing skills noticeably over the past few years, thanks to my persistent and never ending pursuit for routines. I might not have found the better one for me, yet, but I’m on my way to it and, as long as I can mind my own progress, I’m very much satisfied.

Find weekly themes to write about

The latest routine I’ve embraced is to join community websites that provide weekly themes for articles. They are usually student-oriented (for college applications), but I use it for my own personal reasons and it’s a good way to start. My new routine is to write at least two articles per week, no specific days or time to do it, which makes it much more flexible and adjustable to work on. The only rule I try to strictly stick to is to, whenever I’m ready to write it all down the paper or my laptop, just sit down and do it all at once. If I stay too long focusing on that one essay, I overwrite and start to modify its essence, and that’s not what it’s about. Practice makes perfect, but try not to over analyse what has already been done because it’s most likely to end up being something unpleasant to do.

Choose handwriting

Finally, one of the things that influences me the most during my writing process is not when or what I write about, but how.

Thing is, we are undeniably living in the digital era. From the moment we wake up to the instant we finally sleep, our minds are flooded by notifications, messages, emails, calls and so it goes. We over stress our brains because we spend too much time worrying about what’s on a cellphone screen. Of course it’s impossible not to be attached to technology; everything nowadays require us to be connected to the world online, socially and professionally. But if we want to create any kind of writing habit, whatsoever, there has to be a moment in our agenda to detox from all that.

Writing your ideas, articles, poems, stories on your iPhone can be quite a challenge. The notifications don’t stop popping up and typing is much faster than handwriting, which doesn’t give your brain the time to really reflect on the subject, so the material becomes, somehow, shallower.

Handwriting, on the other hand, requires time, patience and care, the mind gets to process every word much better and reflect about them meticulously. Also, to put your phone away for a few hours can be incredibly relaxing and pleasant; to find yourself out of touch with everything other than your thoughts is very rewarding.

So don’t be afraid to turn on the airplane mode, mute your Twitter or log out Facebook when you have your pen and notebook in hands. So find out your perfect routine, sit down with a cup of coffee, scotch or tea, find the perfect lighting and moment, turn on your favorite song (or not) and write!