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aiweirdness · 4 years ago

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Facts about whales

When a neural net can imitate just about any kind of text on the internet, the challenge is to tell it precisely what to imitate. In my last preview of OpenAI’s new API, I asked it some pretty basic questions about horses, and it often got them wrong.

Q: How many eyes does a horse have? A: 4. It has two eyes on the outside and two eyes on the inside.

But part of the problem seemed to be that it thought I was asking for jokes. Once it finished answering the horse question, it would sometimes add questions of its own, such as:

Q: Why is the sky blue? A: Because blue is the only color the sun trusts. Sure enough, if I prompted it with FAKE whale facts from the @awhalefact twitter account, it responded with more fake facts (even copying the informal grammar):

a new study suggests that whales swim around because it makes them happy and it is not for any other reason

i can see into your soul from my balcony and i know that you are afraid of whales

when someone tells you they want to show you something cool, you should just assume they want to show you a whale

did you know that there are more than 10 billion planets in the universe that are all entirely covered in whales

Is there a way I can prompt this neural net such that I get Serious Answers Only? Since its task is to predict the text that is the most likely to come next, I tried ask it to add to an existing list of eight true facts about whales. At a temperature of 0.9 (enough for some variety, hopefully not enough for chaos) and allowing it to pick what it deemed the most likely of 10 tries, here’s one of its lists of facts. (I’ve annotated its “facts” as true or false.)

Whales all have two blowholes. [False]

Whales can easily be identified by the pigment of their skin. [False]

Whales are very intelligent. [True]

One of the smallest whales measures 3 feet in length as an adult. [False]

The life span of a blue whale is 100 years. [False]

The oldest known whale is 211 years old. [True]

Whales consume 3,000 pounds of food per day. [True (but only for some)]

There are two main types of whales: toothed whales and baleen whales. [True]

Whales can hold their breath for up to 4 minutes when resting. [False]

So it produces a mix of true facts and true-sounding made-up facts. Its fact about the smallest whale is technically just one character off from the truth (the smallest whale measures up to 9 feet long), so by its standards it’s almost correct. A Buzzfeed listsicle type of prompt (“10 amazing facts you didn’t know about whales!”) produced also produced plenty of false facts.

Scientists have recently discovered that the brains of whales are larger than human brains.

Dolphins don't just have to live in the water. Some live in the desert.

Whales are found in all of the oceans, but not in the sea. The sea is too salty for them to be able to live in.

I decided to try another tactic, and fed it the first sentences of the Wikipedia article on whales.

My prompt: Whales are a widely distributed and diverse group of fully aquatic placental marine mammals. They are an informal grouping within the infraorder Cetacea, usually excluding dolphins and porpoises. Whales, dolphins and porpoises belong to the order Cetartiodactyla, which consists of even-toed ungulates. Their closest living relatives are the hippopotamuses, having diverged about 40 million years ago. The AI’s response: Although whales were historically thought to have descended from mesonychids, their closest living relatives are now thought to be hippopotamuses. Megaptera novaeangliae, or the humpback whale, is a species of baleen whale. One of the largest rorqual species, adults range in length from 12–16 m and weigh about 36,000 kg. The humpback has a distinctive body shape, with long pectoral fins and a knobbly head. It is known for breaching and other distinctive surface behaviors, making it popular with whale watchers. Its diet consists mostly of krill and small fish, though it may also eat plankton, squid, and copepods. Like all large whales, the humpback was a target for the whaling industry, and once numbering in the tens of thousands, the worldwide population fell to an estimated 5,000. Orcas, also known as killer whales, are large dolphins belonging to the oceanic dolphin family, which includes the other large whales, the pilot whales and sperm whales. Orcas are highly social; some populations are composed of matrilineal family groups which are the most stable of any animal species. Their sophisticated hunting techniques and vocal behaviors, which are often specific to a particular group and passed across generations, have been described as manifestations of culture.

I’m not bothering to fact-check each sentence, because it’s basically 100% correct every single time.

But then I started googling individual sentences. It turns out most of them are near word-for-word reproductions of Wikipedia sentences. If the AI were a student, it would be flunked for plagiarism.

It makes sense that an internet-scraping AI would be able to quote Wikipedia text - those sentences really get around. The sentence that starts “Orcas are highly social” is no longer on Wikipedia but seems to have been part of the orca article around 2008, and appears on the internet in 122 places, including in a Twilight fanfic.

To get ORIGINAL facts, I decided to write a few sentences of original fact-filled text about whale evolution.

My prompt: "Whales are a relatively young group of mammals, having evolved from land-dwelling creatures about 50 million years ago. Their terrestrial ancestors were small raccoon-sized hoofed mammals, carnivorous like other ungulates of the time. Over an astonishingly quick period of time (15 million years at most, possibly less than 5 million), these land mammals made the transition to an aquatic lifestyle, gaining at first denser bones and an ear structure that allowed them to hear more easily underwater. Soon they began to look more crocodilian, their eyes migrating to the tops of their heads. "

AI’s response: Whales, and especially baleen whales, are well known for their enormous size, but most types of whales are not larger than a full-grown adult human. Exceptions include the blue whale, the largest animal ever known, the extinct "Basilosaurus", which was longer than a blue whale and likely the largest animal to have ever existed, and the "shovelnose" whales, especially the genus "Balaenoptera" which include the blue whale, "B. musculus", the fin whale, "B. physalus", and the sei whale, "B. borealis".

This reads well but is frequently wrong. Most types of whales are CONSIDERABLY larger than a full-grown adult human. Basilosaurus was not longer than a blue whale. There is no such thing as a shovelnose whale. Would that there were.

To this AI, SOUNDING correct is more important than actually BEING correct.

What about other styles of delivering true facts? (Below, my prompt is in bold, and the rest is unedited AI)

Darth Vader stood with his back to them, gloves gripping the console. "Did you know that the blue whale is the largest animal that ever lived?" "N-no, Lord Vader," said the stormtrooper. "And yet the blue whale eats krill, which are miniscule. It can engulf up to two hundred twenty tons of water at a time." "I am fascinated, Lord Vader." The black-caped Vader turned slightly toward him. "Would you like to hear more about the whales?" "Yes, Lord Vader," came the stormtrooper's tremulous voice. "I would like very much to hear about the whales." "They can make some of the loudest and lowest sounds of any creature known. The groans of blue whales can travel thousands of kilometers through the ocean. Their calls can be heard from the surface all the way to the seafloor, some three thousand meters below the surface. You could hear the cries of a single blue whale in Tokyo and hear the answer from the one in San Francisco." "I see," said the stormtrooper. "Have you ever heard the cries of a blue whale, sergeant?" "No, Lord Vader. I have never heard the cries of a blue whale." "I see," said Vader. "And have you ever seen a blue whale, sergeant?" "No, Lord Vader. I have never seen a blue whale." "No one has. They live too deep in the ocean. No human has ever seen a blue whale and lived to tell the tale. Until today." "I... I have seen a blue whale, Lord Vader?" "That is correct, sergeant. Until today, no human has ever seen a blue whale and lived. But now you have seen one." "I have seen one," said the stormtrooper, turning to face Vader, head shaking. "Yes, Lord Vader. I have seen one. I have seen a blue whale."

Subscribers get bonus content: I experimented with a few other ways of generating questionable whale facts.

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

#neural networks #openai #whales #whale facts #star wars #wikipedia #ai facts #true facts #true facts about the whale

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moinsbienquekaworu · 3 years ago

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And I did the stats! I'm absurdly proud of my little digital fanfic library but it's basically a history of the fanfic I've been reading since I discovered fandom, so I'm putting the graph and more explanations under the readmore, in case you don't care/don't want to see which weird ships I like/used to like (since I won't be tagging the post because I don't want that in the general tags). Proceed at your own risk!

Okay! So. First off, I've had that collection for almost five years now I'd say, I don't have the oldest dates but that's when I started discovering fandom. I started downloading fics to be able to read on my phone even when I didn't have an internet connection (and downloading fics from FFNet wasn't the easiest), and then when I started using AO3 I thought I'd get the fics I liked in case they disappeared or something. They're all epubs and I can make annotations in my ereader app, which is also pretty cool (my 'copies' of Cambiare Podentes or Pacify are full of notes from multiple rereadings throughout the years and that's very fun) In total I have 1311, which is a respectable number I think.

All the smaller folders - anything 15 fics or less - are mostly old fandoms for which I never read a lot of fic. There are separate Harry Potter and Star Wars folders because those are for gen fics and the ship folders are for, well, ship fics. Fandoms like Sherlock, OFMD or Gravity Falls don't have separate ship folders because they're either 90% ship or gen fics, and a folder for a few gen/ship fics would be useless. The 'originales' folders are original fic, with a PWP variant because sometimes you want to peruse the SFW folder and not the smut one or vice-versa. The older folders are probably the Drarry or Snarry ones, as well as the Sherlock and the Originales ones, because they're the ones with fics in french in them and I stopped reading fic in french years ago to pivot entirely to english.

As for analysing this: I knew what the results would look like, because 1) it's my collection I know what I read and download and 2) I regularly sort the fics I download in those folders, and every time I check the numbers just as a curiosity, but there still was a surprise or two. Notably, the OFMD folder compared to the Obikin folder, because I started reading OFMD fics literally less than a month ago (may 11 to be precise) but I've been reading Obikin fics for close to a year now. Also now that I'm thinking about it my numbers are wrong I know I put a gen fic in the Obikin folder and I didn't go back to put it in its proper folder yet, so it really is the same number of fics, which I wasn't expecting. I also keep thinking the Gravity Falls and Drarry folders are going to be bigger, but no, they're not (especially not the Drarry one, I stopped shipping that and reading fic for it years ago when I got into Snarry) Obviously this makes my OTPs clear, they're the ones I have more fics for (the Sherlock folder is mostly Johnlock and the OFMD one is mostly Blackbonnet, of course). I do find it funny I have more original smut fics than Tomarry and Harrymort combined, but that makes sense too. I gotta say, I have no idea what all the HP gen fics are, because that's a fandom I read mostly ship fics for and almost nothing else, so I don't know where those came from, as opposed to the SW ones (it's because I like fluffy Jedi bonding stuff). The Snarry folder wins - well, everything, but more specifically on top of having the most fics in it, I know without needing to check that it's the one with the most words in it, because it's the one with the most longfics in it: if you just count Pacify and Cambiare Podentes that's already a good million two hundred words, and then there's the fics I have doubles of, all the longfics...

By the way this is the wrong place to put it but I find it fascinating how different fandoms write different formats: I can give you like, 2-3 Obikin long chaptered fics, same with Kylux (most of which I didn't read because they weren't my style, sorry that one aviator Kylux and Lex Talionis I just can't) but for Johnlock or Snarry I could give you a list and still forget some I've read. I don't know if it's the size of the fandom or the age or something but that's fascinating. If that wasn't so long a process and it was useful, I'd write down all the fics I have, their titles and wordcount and fandom, that could be really interesting... but only for me because that would be pretty biased. I mean, I tend to gravitate towards longfics and that's the fics I'm more likely to download, so yeah.

Anyway I think that was a nice ramble, if someone read all this I love you, when's the marriage?

#ONCE AGAIN #DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE ME DISCUSS FANFICS I LIKE IN DETAIL #the ships included in there that you might find distasteful are snarry drarry tomarry kylux obikin and johnlock #so if you don't want to see me talk about that the readmore was for you you can keep scrolling #literally i love talking about this so much but there isn't a singular person on the planet who cares and why would they #so i'm putting it here because it needs to come out of me at some point #wow i have a ramble tag now #fandom nerdery

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sometimesiwritebadly · 5 years ago

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Rehearsal (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: Peter and you have to rehearse a scene for your theatre class, which just so happens to have a kiss in it. (Gender neutral reader!)

Prompts: 1. “Why would you do this?” 22. “This is the part where you kiss me.”

Warnings: good old fashioned fluff

Note: Lol this one kinda got away from me. I used a random number generator to choose the prompts and only expected this to be like 800 words max but I ended up with over 2k so. but I really like what I ended up with so I hope y’all do too <3 mostly from Peter’s POV btw. oh and I tried to keep it gender neutral but it’s natural for me to write with a female reader so let me know if I accidentally left a few she’s/her’s in there.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

Peter Parker is a nerd. He’s good at science and math, which is why he’s attending Midtown School of Science and Technology. Despite the STEM focus the school has, there’s still a requirement for at least one art-related class in order to graduate. When Peter chose an entry level Theatre class, he hoped it would focus more on the study of famous plays than actually having to stand on a stage and act. Peter was very, very wrong. For the first assignment of the semester, students had to pair up and perform a short, dramatic piece. He had been paired with Y/N Y/L/N, who he had a minor crush on. Ok, major crush. After he and MJ broke up last year, he honestly didn’t think he’d find anyone else for a while. But then Y/N transferred to Midtown, and he was whipped right from the start.

“Look man, you gotta use this opportunity to make a move!” Peter and Ned were walking down the hallway between classes, Ned trying to convince Peter again that this was a great chance to finally tell Y/N how he feels. “Just look up some cute scene for the two of you to perform! It’ll be like when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie fell in love on set!”

“I’m pretty sure they broke up, Ned.”

“Whatever. The point stands.”

The pair approached their lockers, where you were waiting. You had a few papers in your hand, which held your attention until you noticed Peter in front of you.

“H-hey. What’s up?” Peter tried his best to contain his stutter, but couldn’t help it. Y/N just had that effect on him.

“Hey Pete, I, um, I found some potential scripts for us to use for our assignment. I thought you could look over them before we rehearse at mine on Friday? I like them all, so whichever you wanna go with is fine...although I did put a star next to my favorite piece.” You handed half of the papers you were holding to Peter, keeping copies of each script for yourself. Peter noticed that the copies you kept had already been highlighted and annotated, while his were straight from the printer. Except for the small star at the top of the first script in his stack. Before Peter could respond, the warning bell began to ring, signaling only a minute to get to your next class. “Just text me whichever one you want, and we can walk to my place after school tomorrow to rehearse.” You said this as you began to walk away, giving Peter and Ned a small wave before you turned around to race to your final class of the day.

~~~

Instead of paying attention to his teacher’s lecture during Chemistry, Peter spent the 50 minute period reading through the scripts you had chosen. Peter already knew he wanted to perform the script you liked, but he was nervous. Your favorite scene happened to be the only one which called for a kiss, but he didn’t know if he had the guts to go for it. He could easily choose either of the other scenes and call it a day, but...well, was this your way of making a move? Had you intentionally chosen the script with a kiss to find out if Peter liked you? Did you like him? Or did you just choose that one because you genuinely thought it was the best option?

The bell rang, interrupting Peter’s thoughts and signaling the end of the school day. Hopefully a few hours of swinging through the streets of New York would be enough to distract Peter from thinking about you all night. For once, Peter was actually hoping New York criminals would keep him busy.

~~~

When Peter slipped through the window of his bedroom, his thoughts were unsurprisingly still revolving around you. Despite a somewhat busy night - two muggings, an almost-car crash, and one lost little girl now safely back with her mother - He still hadn’t been able to come to a decision. Half an hour ago you had texted Peter asking if he had chosen a script yet, and he still hadn’t responded.

“Just go with the script they want, Pete. Even if Y/N doesn’t like you, at least you’ll get to kiss them.” He thought as he removed his skin-tight supersuit and changed into some sweats and a t-shirt. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his backpack, and, after another minute or so of arguing with himself, finally began to type.

8:31 pm

Y/N:

hey pete, have you decided which script you wanna do yet?

9:06 pm

Peter:

Uh, yeah. I think the one you liked is the best.

9:08 pm

Y/N:

yesss, i was hoping you’d choose that one. i have great taste ;)

9:08 pm

Peter:

Haha, yeah, you do. We’ll rehearse tomorrow after school right?

9:10 pm

Y/N:

yup! i’ll meet you by your locker again :) see ya tomorrow pete

Peter decided to let the conversation end there. Honestly, he had no idea what to think. What does “I have great taste ;)” mean? Is that a reference to the kiss? Does this mean they like him? Or is it just a joke? Peter sent a screenshot of the conversation to Ned for help, but Ned being Ned wasn’t helpful at all.

9:15 pm

Ned:

Just. Make. A. Move.

9:16 pm

Ned:

Betty thinks you should make a move too.

Despite his confusion and nerves over tomorrow’s rehearsal, Peter managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time. Hopefully tomorrow he’d get the answers he was looking for.

~~~

Peter waited by his locker after the final bell rang. As the hallways began to clear, he noticed you making your way over to him.

“Sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting too long. My English class is basically all the way across the school.” You looked nervous. Is that good? Or bad? Have you been thinking about the kiss too?

“Y-you’re fine. I’ve only been here for like a minute.” That was a lie. Peter’s Chemistry class was just across the hall from his locker, but you didn’t need to know that. After he finished talking, you seemed to lose all sense of nerves.

“I guess it wasn’t me causing the nerves then…” Peter thought, his mood dropping a little.

“Oh good. Let’s get going then, my apartment is only a couple blocks from here.” And so you began the short walk to your place. You made some small talk on the way there, talking about your other classes instead of the one class you did share.

“You have Mrs. Jenson third period right? I have her during fifth. Maybe we can study together for her tests...I know the school year just started, but I can already tell she’ll make her tests unnecessarily evil.” You said as the both of you entered your building.

“That’s a good idea, I know someone who took her class last year and they said she always had essay questions. Not to mention 5 choices for multiple choice questions instead of the usual four.” Peter responded. As he spoke, they headed towards the elevator, and Y/N pressed the button, causing the doors to immediately open. After hitting the number 4 on the wall, the doors slowly began to close. Despite the unfortunate news he was sharing with Y/N, his voice had a hopeful tone to it; They want to hang out with him again. Sure, it’s just loose plans to study for a test sometime in the future, but hey, he’ll take it.

“Damn. History has never been my subject, so I’ll definitely need the extra study time. I can never remember all the important dates.” Your phone buzzed after that, causing you to glance down at it. As you responded to whoever had texted you, Peter was left to his thoughts when the elevator began to move. It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened and you stepped out that the conversation resumed. “That was my mom, guess she’s gonna be at work for a few more hours. We can order a pizza if you want, I’m not sure how long we’ll be rehearsing today.”

“Pizza, uhm,” Peter’s voice cracked, “Pizza sounds good.” Peter cursed to himself, but if you had noticed his voice cracking, you had the decency to ignore it. You pulled your keys from your backpack, and unlocked the second apartment on the floor.

“Cool, I’ll order something online. Pepperoni ok for you?” You asked as you walked into the apartment, holding the door open for Peter. Peter only nodded, not really trusting his voice for the moment. He took a second to look around the place as you closed the door behind him. When you came into his eyesight again, you were looking at your phone, presumably ordering the pizza. “Since my mom isn’t here we can rehearse in the living room, it’s just this way.” Peter followed you as you led him across the apartment, then sat on the couch. He tried to give you space as you continued punching in the pizza order. While you were busy, Peter opened his own backpack and pulled out the script you had agreed upon. Last night he had highlighted his lines, although luckily for this assignment the teacher had mentioned that memorization was optional. After all, the school year had just begun and it was a beginner’s class.

“Ok, pizza will be here in like half an hour. Now we can get to work!” You quickly pulled out your own script from your backpack, and turned to face Peter. “Do you wanna just read through it a few times, then once we’re used to it we could start working out the blocking?” You suggested.

“Y-yeah, sure, that works for me.” Peter was relieved at this option; read throughs meant he didn’t have to worry about the kiss yet. “Your character starts, right?”

And so the two of you began reading through the script. It was short, only a few pages, and featured someone on the day of their wedding, and the man who was trying to convince them to leave their fiance. At first, the reading was a little awkward, as neither of you had any experience in acting, but by the third or fourth time you had gone through the script together, both of you were feeling much more comfortable. Instead of sitting away from each other on opposite ends of the couch, you were close, the way your characters would be. The blocking had even begun to take shape naturally, so you and Peter stood for the fifth reading, walking around the room, trying your best to embody the characters as they argued. This time, as you approached the end of the script however, Peter’s nerves returned.

“Why would you do this? Just barging in here on my wedding day?” You said, trying to act as frustrated and confused as you felt your character would be.

“You and I both kn-know you don’t love him! You’ll never be happy with him!” Peter tried to keep his nerves in check, but he knew what was coming.

“And how do you know I’d be happier with you?” Following the stage directions indicated on your script, you stepped closer to Peter. Instead of continuing with the scene, Peter just stared at you, no longer looking at his script. “Uh, Pete?” He still didn’t respond. You were confused, until you looked back at the script. You weren’t sure how you had forgotten, after all, this is why you chose the scene in the first place. “Peter, this is the part where you kiss me” You said quietly. You had taken his choosing of this scene to mean he liked you too, but you weren’t sure. His eyes widened a little at your words though, which made your confidence drop. “O-or not, um, we could do a stage kiss, or you could just kiss my cheek, or we could just cut it complet-” Peter cut off your rambling by putting his hands on your cheek and bringing his lips to meet yours. You were shocked, but easily melted into the kiss. He was gentle as he kissed you, his nerves disappearing the second you kissed him back. After a while, you both separated from the kiss. Neither of you spoke for a minute, just staring at each other.

“U-um.. that was ok, right?” Peter whispered, as you were still pretty close to him. You only smiled, and gave him another short kiss as a response. Before you guys could do anything else, there was a knock at the door.

“Pizza!” Someone said loudly through the wood. Before you could make a move, Peter had grabbed his wallet and was already walking towards the front door.

“I’ll pay...after all, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay on our first date?”

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker #fluff

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eagle-raider · 4 years ago

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Of hidden meanings

I wrote this back in August and it’s been collecting digital dust in my draft folder ever since. To celebrate International Translation day (yes, it is a thing, and yes, it’s today) I told myself I’d post it. Behold the wall of text.

I’ve been (re) reading one of my all times favorite books, which is Les Liaisons Dangereuses (1782, Choderlos de Laclos), but in English this time – after months of trying to get my hands on a translation (the one I got is by Thomas Moore and was published in 1812).

The book is a classic of French literature, an epistolary novel telling the story of the Marchioness de Merteuil and the Viscount de Valmont, two narcissistic rivals (and ex-lovers) who use seduction as a weapon to socially control and exploit others, all the while enjoying their cruel games and boasting about their talent for manipulation.

The book has had several movie adaptations, ranging from the most faithful (Dangerous Liaisons, Stephen Frears, 1988) to the most forgettable (Valmont by Milos Forman, 1989), to a loosely based adaptation/Modern setting re-writing (Cruel Intentions, 1999 and that infamous tongue kiss between SMG and Selma Blair). So yeah, you’ve probably either heard of it, or seen one of those movies, or at least the gifs of that kiss.

Now, this book has been censored to hell and back because of its depiction of amorality. It explores different subjects: revenge, manipulation, malice and even female homosexuality (briefly, but it’s there – both in the book and the movie adaptation by Frears), with feminist undertones, which, for a book written by a military man in 1782 is a real novelty.

Yes, the Marchioness de Merteuil is a villain, if you look at the book through a Manichaean perspective (which is what the movie did), but above all, she is a victim of her time. And again, for a man to fully grasp the societal burden of women circa 1782 is absolutely unprecedented. And it’s way too real for it to be a happy coincidence.

I know this book almost by heart my copy is filled to the brim with annotations and almost all pages are dog-eared.

Now, one of my all-time favorite letters within the book is letter 141. It’s about 2/3 through the story – the Marchioness de Merteuil is peeved at Valmont because he is too enamored with his lover to pay her any attention – said lover is a married noble, a devout Christian he managed to defile—his words not mine.

The reason she’s peeved is never explained. Jealousy, perhaps, but it’s not borne out of love. Merteuil doesn’t love him, she just wants him wrapped around her little finger.

So, in this letter, as per their twisted game, she tells him that now that he got what he wanted, it is time to break things off with that Christian woman. And, in her infinite generosity, Merteuil provides him with the perfect breakup letter. I was really looking forward to seeing how the translator – Thomas Moore – would handle the nuances, and I wasn’t disappointed for the most part.

It goes as follows:

One tires of every thing, my angel! It is a law of nature; it is not my fault.

If, then, I am tired of a connection that has entirely taken me up four long months, it is not my fault.

If, for example, I had just as much love as you had virtue, and that’s saying a great deal, it is not at all surprising that one should end with the other; it is not my fault

It follows, then, that for some time past, I have deceived you; but your unmerciful affection in some measure forced me to it! It is not my fault.

Now a woman I love to distraction, insists I must sacrifice you: it is not my fault.

I am sensible here is a fine field for reproaches; but if nature has only granted men constancy, whilst it gives obstinacy to women, it is not my fault.

Take my advice, choose another lover, as I have another mistress—The advice is good; if you think otherwise, it is not my fault.

Farewell, my angel! I took you with pleasure, I part you without regret; perhaps I shall return to you; it is the way of the world; it is not my fault

It’s perfect, it’s vicious, it’s exactly what you’d expect to receive from an asshole like Valmont.

Now why am I telling you this? Because there’s a slight change in the movie adaptation, that I think fully grasps the hidden meaning behind “It is not my fault,” which is the literal translation of the original French version: ce n’est pas ma faute.

The writing team decided to change “It is not my fault” to “It’s beyond my control” and if you’re a purist, you might think they were absolutely stupid and why choose another option when word for word translation works just fine in this case? Why change it when the meaning behind the words is there?

To answer your question: because it’s not.

Keep in mind that the book is written in old-French, or an older iteration of French, rather. Words had a slightly different meaning than they do now, e.g. the verb to hear (entendre in French) meant “understand” which is something that the French verb kind of lost while the English retained somewhat (when people say I get you/do you hear me).

So, when the letter says “It is not my fault.” what it really means is, “It’s beyond my control.”

Earlier, I said that Merteuil wanted to have Valmont wrapped around her little finger? This is what I meant. It’s beyond his control. She demanded of him that breaks up with his lover, she provided the means to do so, and as she writes earlier in the same letter:

“My comparison appears to me the more just as, like [a Sultan], you never are the lover or friend of a woman, but always her tyrant or her slave.”

Boom. Burn.

Valmont is Merteuil’s slave and she spelled it out to him (quite brutally). Which is why, I believe that the translator could have maybe underlined the hidden take behind “It is not my fault.”

The movie did, because it fully grasped Merteuil’s intention: Valmont is her puppet. He should break up with his lover because Merteuil wants him to and because it is literally beyond his control. Which is what Valmont keeps repeating in the sequence:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjUmvHBgHr0

(apologies for the potato quality)

It’s nitpicky but it matters in this case because the nuance is lost in the translation, unless the readers pay careful attention. I’m not saying the translation is bad, because it’s not. Literary translation is a balancing act of subjectivity.

It begs the question: how far can you adapt a translation into your target language before it reaches the point of no return and everything that made the text special/authentic/flavorful is lost? It’s the eternal debate between traductology scholars: are you a target-oriented/source-oriented translator. Most translators will say they’re target-oriented, and they’re right.

However, the game changes when you’re translating classics, because you’re not just translating a text into a language your audience can understand—you’re translating a chunk of history with it. You can’t dissociate the book and its author from the historical context it was written in because the context gives crucial clues on how to navigate the translation. A book, whatever it may be about, is a testimony of its time.

Does an English-speaking audience in 2020 understand that “It is not my fault” means “I’m somebody’s puppet, your life and mine aren’t ours to do as we please?”

Does “it isn’t my fault” hold as much meaning in 2020 than its French counterpart did in 1782?

If yes, keep it.

It not, then change it. Adapt it, make it more obvious even if you stray a little from the original version.

This is what the movie did, in all subtlety, forgoing a literal translation for something else that was in line with the context of the book/history/plot.

I will admit my own bias because this book is among my favorite pieces of classical literature – and Renaissance/pre-French revolution is my favorite period, so I nerd. A lot.

Next up: Game Localization and how the Japanese translation/VA work of Ghost of Tsushima influenced Jin Sakai’s personality (goody two-shoes in English vs. darker/grounded in JP)

Happy International Translation Day, folks!

#watch me write nonsense #about translation no less!#I'm no snob I promise #lost in translation #traductology #if you've read this far #I applaud you #I'm not even sure this makes sense #gibberish that's what it is #literature #classical literature #les liaisons dangereuses #translation

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ctl-yuejie · 4 years ago

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This or That - Book edition

I got tagged by @stebeee! thanks babe <3

hardcover or paperback - I love paperback editions. Much easier to carry around in bags and read on trains etc. i used to prefer haradcovers when i was a teenager, but mostly because paperbacks back then had very cheap looking covers

rent or buy - I buy most of the books I read and only rent the ones for my studies. I am quite peculiar with scents and smells so I really don’t like books that smell used. But I don’t buy that many books and I am trying to get back into renting more (I used to live in our local library when I was a kid)

reads in silence or reads with music - Sometimes I read with background ambience sounds but I either drown the noise out after a while or get annoyed when there’s a mood change and the music doesn’t fit anymore.

standalone or series - Not big into series unless the author thought about the whole arc and ending when writing the first book. And while I know that I don’t prefer series I almost always wish the book I read would continue so I get to see more of the world. But that only applies to fantasy, while I mostly read educational stuff.

annotations or pristine pages - Pristine pages unless I read a book for educational reasons in which case it is colourful post-its all the way.

ebook or physical copy - Don’t have an ebook reader and I try to limit my screentime. Also don’t like how it feels when holding.

dog ears or bookmarks - *shudders at the thought of dog ears* I do however sometimes turn opened books upside down and use pretty much anything as bookmarks.

mismatched series or complete set - I strive for the aesthetics but I do own several mismatched series (sometimes not even the languages match)

cover matters or you don’t judge - If there are several publications to chose from I definitely chose the most visually appealing. Cover design and book binding is an art and if I can get golden rimmed pages for the same price as a boring cover one I will go with the fancy pages.

lend books or keep them to yourself - I will lend my books to pretty much anyone. Roomie and me have shared bookshelves.

enjoys lit classes or despises them - now, I don’t despise lit classes as a concept and I do thing they are important and I actually wish I had the time to attend some lit classes in university. It just so happens that my teachers in high school were objectively terrible and I hated everything about the classes even though I did like literature analysis.

browses shops or orders online - I never order online and only order via my local non-chain bookstore. They also have a brilliant book selection at hand so when I go there to pick up my orders I will take another book with me most of the time. Support your local bookstore!

reads reviews or goes in blind - I read reviews + newspaper reviews but I don’t let bad reviews deter me from not reading a book. Just now I finished a highly recommended book about climate change and it was really bad so reviews can swing both ways. I do however like to have a quick overview of which people recommended and disliked a book so I know where to look later to look for alternate interpretations.

unreturned books or clean library record - Yeah babe! (unless you count my university’s library.....)

rereads or once was enough - If I like a book a will reread it a lot.

fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon - YES! fanfic authors are amazing even if or especially when I am content what canon gives me.

deep reader or easily distracted - Hours can pass and I can even become invisible to the people around me.

must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter - I don’t like to spoil myself so I will try and read the book first if I intended to read the book at all.

has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves - Pretty neat. No real colour-coordination or anything like that but the shelves are divided by themes so it is pretty organized and everything is standing orderly in a row.

skips ahead or resists temptation - If things get too tense or a book is emotionally wrecking me I will read the last page.

reads aloud or in your head - In my head. But I’ve heard that some people can just read things without reading them aloud in any way and that still baffles me (please someone tell me that that is impossible)

guesses plot twists or never sees them coming - I mostly see a plot twist coming but that just speaks to the book being well written.

#ctlyuejie writes #lovely mutuals are lovely

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wilstudies · 5 years ago

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Get a grade 9 in a language GCSE!

Please note:

1. These tips are almost entirely applicable to any AQA language at GCSE. 2. Modern Foreign Languages at GCSE Level is anywhere from A2 to B1 (dependant on the tier and grade) on the CEFR scale, but, there is no official equivalent.

In November 2018, whilst in Year 10, my teacher saw that I was excelling in French, with my extensive knowledge of tenses and idioms. So, she proposed that I’d do the January mocks, alongside Year 11, despite not knowing more than half of the subject content. Then we’d see where I’d go from there.

I followed the AQA exam board, higher paper. Specification. You can find the Kerboodle textbook I used, here.

Here’s what I did:

Throughout the year, I was also studying the Year 10 content (Theme 1 - Identity and culture) in class.

In my own time, each month I’d cover one or two units, completing the more challenging activities on each page of the textbook. Luckily, each unit was only 4 double-page spreads long.

In January I completed my mocks. This was the first time I had ever sat in an exam hall, so it was really daunting to be doing it with a bunch of kids who were older than me, even though I knew I had enough knowledge. Overall, I got a secure grade 8, in my mocks, despite not knowing half of the course content.

I also did “pre-exam mocks”, two weeks before each exam. These consisted of specimen papers which are notoriously harder, so my results looked almost exactly the same as past papers, which was upsetting as I couldn’t see that I’d actually improved. But practice is practice!

MY ACTUAL GCSE RESULT:

With a lot of work. I managed to achieve a grade 9 (the top mark, higher than an A*), which was insane. I’m so, so proud of myself, and grateful for all of the teachers that supported me!!!

^Edit from 25/08/2019.

LISTENING

In my opinion, listening is based purely on practice and knowing the exam technique that works for you.

To practice:

frenchpod101 intermediate listening comprehension

Going through every specimen track and listening activity I could find - pausing it after each sentence, saying it once in French, then translating it into English. I’d do this in the shower, on the way to school, wherever.

Know your vocab!

My exam technique:

In the 5 minutes reading time: underline keywords and themes in the questions. This time goes very quickly, but I’d also try to jot down a few synonyms in the French section too.

Multiple choice questions: the process of elimination; key vocab; negative and positive tonality and opinion words - watch out for negative structures!

Completing the sentences: note down words said in French or translate each sentence into English in your head, then remember it when it comes to writing it down.

French section: fill each sentence with key French words that you hear. Don’t worry about accents, unless it helps you determine the word.

Remember each track plays twice.

READING

The January Mock: I didn’t know much of the course content, so I struggled with the translation. I also circled and placed a question mark near any words I didn’t know, as it was a mock and my teacher would be able to note down any translations for me. I think what boosted my grade, to a 9 for this paper, was knowledge of grammar.

T/F/NM questions are usually a gamble. Just look for explicit information and know your negative formations.

Texts change their minds often: look out for counter-arguments and opposing exclamations

Use the method of elimination for multiple choice: rule out if there’s no mention. Be wary that a text can mention an option, but say it wasn’t that.

Texts often refer to things mentioned prior.

If you know a certain type of texts are your kryptonite (it was the classical stories with dialogue, for me), then download as many of that genre as you can. Understand the way speech and dialogue works, and the structure, before you tackle the vocab.

Many say skim read and don’t read the whole thing, but I found it easier to translate big chunks in my head as I went along and lightly annotate each text, which just comes with practice.

WRITING

Top tip: don’t go any more than 10% over word limits!!!!!!! Teachers say they have to mark all of it - no they don’t. If you do double the word limit, your last few bullet points could come after the cut-off point, cutting off access to half of the marks!!!

90 WORD - 99 words maximum! About 20-25 words per bullet point.

150 WORD - 165 words maximum! About 75 words per bullet point.

Which brings me to mention, that you must cover every bullet point: those are your content marks, which cover about half the marks of each question.

90 WORD Question (16 marks)

Content - 10 marks: Making sure your writing covers each bullet point enough.

Quality of Language - 6 marks: Using interesting vocabulary, such as “malheureusement”.

Stick to about one page.

If you’re giving an opinion, great, just stop there. If you explain it too much, you risk going over your word limit.

150 WORD Question (32 marks)

Content - 15 marks: Every. Bullet. Point. Detailed.

Range of Language - 12 marks: get in those adjectives, idioms and grammatical structures!

Accuracy - 5 marks: correct basic tense conjugations (present, past, future simple/future proche)

In order to hit all of these I came up with a mnemonic checklist, and it scored me full marks in a specimen paper I did for my teacher! And I made it into a cute phone background, so I’d start to remember it, I still can now, hehe! You can find it here. If that doesn’t work, then download it here.

SPEAKING

Know your question words! (x)

For the roleplay and photocard, my teacher printed off me a load of practice cards in bulk and annotated two or three every day, using the planning techniques mentioned below.

Roleplay - 2 minutes; can be any theme.

When planning, try to avoid writing out answers, but just keywords and gaps for you to fill in with pronouns or articles etc.

Keep it brief, one sentence per bullet point, but cover each part of each bullet point.

Photo card - 3 minutes (aim to speak for at least 2).

Plan with a small spider-diagram of nouns, opinions, anecdotes etc. for each known question.

Use one or two prepped anecdotes for the prepared questions - e.g. where you went last year, who with, what you did.

For the unknown questions, keep it short and sweet and fill up any time with opinions and reasoning.

General conversation - 5-7 minutes.

Lie and make up stories! Be creative and use the words and structures you know.

I was a little extra and I prepared every theme as flashcards. You can’t get away with only revising your chosen theme!

I made flashcards that could cover several types of questions: I had bullet points of topics and keywords on one side and a sample paragraph on the other.

Pretty sure I made about 80 flashcards oops.

I also went through the mark scheme and see which areas I could secure marks in and which areas I needed to improve.

VOCAB

Learning vocab is SO important!

I started by making spreadsheets of jumbled word lists from the specification and doing a colour-coded match up.

You can access a pdf of all of the vocab grids here. There might be the odd word missing due to copy-pasting errors, but if so, don’t stress, just look it up in a dictionary and note it down - sorry in advance!!!

Then with the vocab that I had to look up in a dictionary, I added to a Quizlet and wrestled it into my noggin.

You can find the Quizlet here.

Remember that:

sauf - except

puisque - since

presque - almost

GRAMMAR

To me, learning tenses was like learning formulae for maths. So find a way to learn rules like that, if it’s easier for you.

e.g. Conditional Tense = subject + (future/conditional stem + imperfect ending)*

*note that future stems are the same as conditional stems.

Know your DRMRSPVANDERTRAMP verbs, and their past participles. These verbs go with ÊTRE and always agree with the subject.

Know your auxiliary and irregular verbs.

MUST KNOW: avoir, être, aller, faire, vouloir

HELPFUL: devoir, pouvoir, vivre, boire, voir, dire, savoir

OTHERS: mettre, prendre, venir, écrire, lire, recevoir

I learnt these by making flashcards, and then brain dumping them on paper over and over again until they stuck - my teacher thought I was insane, madly scribbling away.

Memorise some key structures that can be used in writing and speaking.

If you want 7+ structures, find them here.

MISC TIPS

Always write notes about improvements and errors in practice papers and mocks.

Find a native french internet friend.

In my opinion, music, movies and TV shows aren’t great for revision. However, if you begin to understand them, they are a great confidence boost.

I highly recommend the Skam France series, which you can find with and without les sous-titres (subtitles) here.

And here’s my french music playlist on Spotify.

MORE ASSISTANCE

I’m happy to offer my assistance to anybody who needs it, pop me a dm or an ask if you think others will find it useful too.

Here’s some ways I could help:

Finding some resources about a certain topic (videos, worksheets, mindmaps) - I have them all backed up hehe

Sending you some of my past answers

Sending you pdf of my general conversation/irregular verb table flashcards

Marking practice answers

Talking to you in french

Etc. etc.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to help any others that might find this useful. If any of the links are faulty, please pop me a dm, and I’ll get them sorted asap!! 🥐

-Wil x

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interesting-blog-name · 5 years ago

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“Indie Rock” MEGAREVIEW (Hippo Campus - Bashful Creatures/Bad Suns - Language & Perspective/COIN - How Will You Know If You Never Try)

“Indie rock” is a term I never understood. It obviously should be used to describe rock by independent bands, but what counts as independent anymore? Bands like Arcade Fire and Modest Mouse are categorized as “indie”, much like Mac DeMarco, and they have reached a point in their careers of worldwide fame, but they’re still considered “indie”, not because they record their music at home with a $15 mic, but because of their sound. It’s hard to describe, but it’s a light brand of rock that has undistorted guitars, pop structures, and something of a Summer vibe to them. I really don’t know how to technically describe indie rock as a genre, but I have yet to listen to an indie rock album, so I got three short albums from bands that my some of my friends listen to, all under the “indie” umbrella (according to Wikipedia), to see if I actually like the style.

Hippo Campus – Bashful Creatures

It’s a solid EP. Not much more to say.

I really don’t know what to comment on in this, because I feel like the biggest problem with the “indie” “genre” is that the bands all sound the same, and for a 6-track EP, how much variety can you really ask for? Also considering this is their debut EP. The instrumentation is fine, especially the guitars, which I think really embody the whole summertime feel of the genre, and standout in almost all tracks here, and the singer’s voice is memorable enough, and doesn’t leave anything to be desired at any point. He’s also super hot The songwriting is that youthful, lovey dovey shit you’d hear in a teen romance movie (“Art school girl with ignorant bliss. Peace, weed, cocaine, and mushrooms and shit”) but it’s tolerable (except in Souls, that song’s chorus is a little too generic for me, I think; even though I like how the song starts kind of toned down and suddenly blows up). The closest the EP gets to having even the slightest bit of edge is on the title track, an anthem about not caring about what others think and being yourself, and Suicide Saturday, the biggest song in here, which talks about social suicide and college parties and all that. Unfortunately, they’re also the most forgettable songs.

Sophie So has a really catchy hook, and showcases Jake’s higher pitched vocals very well, it is easily my favorite song. On Little Grace, the biggest change-up is the dub rhythm that sneaks up in the middle of the song, but it doesn’t stand out, and the chorus is the most annoying in the EP. Opportunistic has a fast cadence to it that sets it apart a little bit, plus the guitar fingering is notable, but the track isn’t anything superb or whatever.

It is executed well, doesn’t bring anything new, but I’d listen to it in the car.

FAVORITE TRACK: Sophie So

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Bashful Creatures

Like a 6/10

“You came back, you wanted to see through my two-colored eyes. You left me at home with a handful of downtrodden sighs.”

Bad Suns – Language & Perspective

I had known Cardiac Arrest for almost three years now, an upbeat song I’d enjoyed a little, so I chose Bad Suns for the second album, and I was disappointed.

After the first three tracks, I had the feeling Language & Perspective had nothing interesting to offer, and I was mostly right. Nearly all songs here could be described as something like “indie-pop”, but with a huge emphasis on the “pop” aspect. The tracks are all so goddamn formulaic and predictable, songs like Take My Love and Run, Learn to Trust and We Move Like the Ocean sound like they literally copy-paste themselves halfway into them until they end, and Sleep Paralysis swaps what could be an actual verse with like 20 seconds of onomatopoeia. The song topics are generic and bland as well, most of them being about “[coming] to you on my hands and knees” and dreaming about an ex late at night and stuff like that, or general teenage anxiety and overthinking, and that would be tolerable if the band at least said it with some kind of variation, but they don’t, it’s just surface-level love and regret songs back to back.

An exception to the bland songwriting in the album is the song Salt, where lead singer Christo sings from the perspective of his transgender friend. I’m not trans, so I can’t relate nor understand if the lyrics are accurate, but the thing is he isn’t either. From the Genius annotations, it seems the friend was pleased though, and said the feelings expressed in the song were things she actually felt, but was never able to describe, so I guess that’s cool of him to dedicate a whole song to her experience. Still, unfortunately the track isn’t such a standout instrumentally or vocally, but one thing I liked was how the hook finishes at the end of the song, when “these memories are nothing to me, just salt” becomes “salt to the wound”, so yeah that was cool.

Language & Perspective is at its best when the hooks are catchy and you just don’t give a fuck. Songs like Cardiac Arrest, We Move Like the Ocean and Pretend are super easy to sing along to, and sound perfect for when you’re in a car driving against the sun (I know I said the exact same thing for the last album leave me alone), especially because of Bowman’s impressive singing, but without that thin veil of sugary pop, what does this album have that stands out? Matthew James, Take My Love and Run, Transpose (which sounds like it could be on a really corny Nike commercial) and Learn to Love just aren’t as memorable and fun, and so they end up coming off as generic, bland and at times annoying, just because they don’t hold up to the melodic fun little hooks on the other songs.

I can’t hate on Dancing on Quicksand and Rearview however, as even though the first’s lyrics aren’t standouts, I can’t help but love how groovy the song is, and the latter, while the melodies aren’t the most memorable here, the lyrics, to me, sound like they have a little more life and personality to them, even if they remain somewhat vague. I have to admit Sleep Paralysis is a mixed highlight for me, despite the lyrics being especially repetitive, just because of how grand the ending sounds and how the eerier chord progression brings at least something new to the album.

Also, really quick before I wrap it up, why the fuck is 20 Years not in the album? It’s in an EP they released the same year which features Cardiac Arrest, Transpose and Salt and it would easily be my favorite track if it was in the tracklist, maybe because it’s just really relatable to me how your teen years pass without you noticing, but it’s also so mellow and would bring such a refreshing little moment in the record.

My difficulties with this album is that I do like and see myself in the future bumping a lot of these songs individually, if I shut down a few parts of my brain and disregard half the lyrics, but when they’re all crumbled together into a project, their single qualities fade and their flaws unite to form a pretty unsatisfying listen; nearly all songs feel static, formulaic, and don’t progress or amount to much – which is pretty noticeable if you realize all songs span from 3:03 to 3:53 minutes - and the instrumentation brings almost nothing to the overall experience, it’s pretty much a backdrop for Bowman to sing his heart over, without much personality of its own. So while it’s not awful, it’s not good either.

FAVORITE TRACKS: Dancing on Quicksand, Rearview

LEAST FAVORITE TRACKS: Learn to Trust, Take My Love and Run

4.7/10

“You let your hair down, your face is made up, you know this town so well”

COIN – How Will You Know If You Never Try

COIN is the least familiar band of the three here, as I’ve only heard Growing Pains from them and I don’t remember anything from the track, but as a quick intro, the band is from Nashville, Tennessee and consisted of 4 members: Chase Lawrence on vocals and synthesizer, Ryan Winnen on drums, Joe Memmel on guitar and backing vocals, and Zach Dyke on bass until he left two years ago.

After listening to the first three tracks of the album, my expectations were pretty high, but after finishing, I feel like this album is reminiscent of a poorly-heated microwave meal: the first three tracks are decreasingly good, the middle of the album is raw, and the last three go back to being increasingly good, with the only exception being the bright spot that is track 7, Heart Eyes, a romantic, entrancing little jam that I can’t help but love.

My big grip with HWYKIYNT is that, for 11 tracks, COIN doesn’t let go of the ear-destroying instrumental breakdowns (it’s not like it’s heavy metal or anything, but the mixing makes it sound like the guitars blow up at some points), tuned up guitars and formulaic song structures, and that leads to many tracks becoming rather forgettable amongst the others. There are, of course, exceptions, but they’re few and I’d say not well-located within the album: Don’t Cry, 2020 is the big standout in the album for me, and I fell in love with it first listen (the context of today being 2020 also helps, I guess), Boyfriend’s defining synth-line and bubblegum qualities make for a lot of enjoyment, especially paired with the light-hearted passive-aggressiveness and rejection on the lyrics, and Talk Too Much, their biggest song, has some cute little lyrics, and an ultra-pop hook that centers the whole song around it and is impossible not so sing along to; but immediately after, the album starts to slow down its hype with I Don’t Wanna Dance, which has an appealing vocal performance by Chase, and starts promisingly with the synths, but is too simple to go anywhere.

Hannah is probably the most forgettable song here, and brings absolutely nothing to the album, and Are We Alone?’s lyrics are cute and focused but really simplistic; in this song specifically, I think the breakdown the band employs right after the hook is really unnecessary, and the song would do better without it. After that is Heart Eyes, which I’ve mentioned before as one of my favorites, mostly because it tones it down a bit, something that really needed to happen at some point this deep into the record.

The song Lately II contains the hidden track Nothing Matters and deals with Chase losing his newborn nephew, a sequel to Lately off the band’s debut album. On the outside, it sounds like just another cheerful song, but the lyrics taken into context I’m sure are very meaningful to Chase and his family; besides that I enjoy the heavier drums in this track and the loose vocal melodies right after the chorus, plus the closing instrumentals are also a nice addition, but I don’t really understand the need to include a hidden track into it; I understand the themes are intertwined, but it could have very well been a separate track, and the way it is slightly harms the song when isolated from the album into, for example, a playlist or a one-time listen, but whatever.

I don’t have much to say about Feeling, it’s your average hype indie-rock track, something you’d maybe hear in a FIFA video game soundtrack, but to its credit, it doesn’t go overboard in itself, the vocals and guitar performances feel very grounded and safe, in a good way. And to finish this off, Miranda Beach brings some solid guitars to the table, they feel very textured and pierce through every other sound; the song is definitely one of the most infectious and ear-catching on here. Closing it all up, Malibu 1992 is the slow jam the album was in need of for 11 tracks. Very stripped back and patient compared to the rest of the song, which makes it stand out naturally, but that doesn’t mean the song is superb or anything, it’s just a refreshing taste.

Throughout a lot of the tracks here I was waiting for something more, a slightly different approach to a song, more introspective lyrics, but it never really came in a way that stood out, and because of that, the start of the album ends up more solid than the rest of it, in my opinion. It isn’t a bad album, but it isn’t amazing either. I feel it’s very derivative, the lyrics are not a standout, and while some songs may be bops, I don’t feel it is strong as a whole project.

FAVORITE TRACKS: Don’t Cry, 2020; Miranda Beach; Talk Too Much; Heart Eyes

LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Hannah

I’m feeling a strong 5 to a light 6 on this one.

“You’re so concerned about your future, yeah, but tomorrow’s just another day.”

#hippo campus #bad suns #coin #indie rock #rock #bashful creatures #language & perspective #how will you know if you never try #album #review #album review #ep #EP Review #boring ass day

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babblingbat · 5 years ago

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#RedInstead (Apr. 3)

This is special interest (SpIn) day! I talked a little about my SpIns on my introduction, but now I get to go into detail!

Mammoths/Elephants

This is the first special interest I remember having. I wanted everything thing to be elephants. I insisted for about a year that I was a pink baby elephant. I read every book in the public library's kids section (this was THE special interest between the ages of 3 and 6) about mammoths, would spend an hour in the part of any museum exhibit that included mammoths, and got frustrated when someone mixed up mammoths and mastodons. I loved watching Ice Age and Babar (my parents got two DVDs of Babar, because wanted to make sure we would be okay if we lost one) and I read several of the Babar books. When we moved when I was almost 6, the first thing I did in the NEW public library was look for mammoth books I hadn't read. There weren't any.

Cats

Because I can't have a cat (it will Kill my dad), they quickly became a new special interest. In first grade, I won a Warriors book in a raffle and devoured several of those seven book chunks. I pretended to be a cat, read books about the biology of cats, and was distinctly over-affectionate with any cat I managed to get my hands on.

Chemistry/The Periodic Table of Elements

I taught myself the Periodic Table in 3rd grade and spent my free time making little flyers about different elements. I wrote down where they could be found, what they were used for, and any interesting facts I remembered from my chemistry book. I played games about the amount of protons and neutrons in an atom on our computer. One of my friends was similarly interested (though not to the point of making pamphlets, I'll admit) and we called each other by elements that corresponded to our initials (or our ages). His name was Tom and it was easier at first to just call him Oxygen (because he was 8 years old), but a few years later I started calling him Thulium. For a substantial amount of time, I was able to recall any element as well as its number and symbol off the top of my head.

Languages/Linguistics

I'm very into grammar and understanding how language works. This is a more recent SpIn but I have been spending a lot of time both on language study and on making my own language (which I've written a little bit about on other posts). I've created several languages and codes in the past and continue to think about the cutural elements of language and how you can't separate the language from its cultural context (I wrote an essay on this in sophomore year) and I'm currently reading a book called Misquoting Jesus which is about the agendas, bias, and errors that come with translating a book over and over and over again.

The Watergate Scandal/Nixon

I watched All the President's Men, then watched it again, then got two copies of the book so I could annotate one and keep the other clean, and asked anyone over the age of 60 what they remembered about it. For a month straight, I only watched things that related to Nixon and the period between 1965 and 1975.

#super screams #mine #special interest #redinstead #red instead #autism acceptence month #actuallyautistic

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gammasgirl-blog · 6 years ago

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❝ AND I’M SO READY TO WAKE UP, NOW ❞

⎣ sophie turner, cis female, she/her ⎤I just saw WINIFRED “WINNIE” BANNER-ROSS walking around new york they’re TWENTY THREE years old and they’re the child of BRUCE BANNER and ELIZABETH “BETTY” ROSS. Their abilities are GENIUS LEVEL INTELLECT and they are working as EARLY CHILDHOOD TEACHER. at their best they’re SWEET & CHARITABLE but at their worst they can be EASILY BEWILDERED & NERVOUS.

tw: mental illness, mentioned and briefly described assault, abusive relationship. || pinterest

DEAR,

1 / born to two of the world’s smartest, kindest, most wonderful people, winnie had a wonderful childhood. she always felt safe, and protected, and loved, and that never changed. even when her grandfather made her nervous, she had a plethora of other family members – starks, rogers, bartons, thorspawn. they were as much her family as anybody else.

2 / even with all that family, the little redhead always struggled to make friends. she was too softly spoken, too gentle, too awkward, and so she found her friends in books. it was odd to see a little girl carrying around homer and austen and shakespeare, but she loved them all the same. her favourite, one she always kept a copy of, highlighted and annotated, was a dictionary. it was her first friend, and she loved it dearly. to this day, it is still her most prized possession.

3 / her teenage years are painful. she stays home from school more than she goes and she keeps herself locked away from the rest of the world because it is easier to cope with her own mess without people looking at her, wondering why she’s upset this time. it wasn’t as though she had any friends in high school, of course, outside of the extended family she has in the other avengers’ children. she’s not even sure she has those. but she does her work from home and tries not to draw attention to herself when she tops the class.

4 / at fifteen, she’s walking home from a charity event she’s been working at when she gets attacked in the street. a pair of men, looking for money or jewellery or something else far more wretched, grab at her wrist and waist and hair and before too long, winnie’s absolutely convinced she’s going to die. she’s thrown against the asphalt in some alleyway but before much else can happen aside from a few bruises and a kick to the ribs, a vigilante saves her. he’s far too pretty and she’s too socially awkward to say more than six words to him, but she insists on his friendship regardless.

5 / actually, charity work becomes a big deal for the redhead. it is, for a long time, the only outlet she has. it provides her with a social life, because the people there are either older and treat her like an adult, or are her age ( or younger ) but just as awkward as she is. it’s nice to make friends, she realises, but it’s even better to do something for others. she lends a hand at youth groups and daycares and retirement villages and wherever she can, because as it turns out, for somebody so nervous, she can be a little bit more charming than she thought.

6 / of course, this doesn’t cure anything for her, but it does make her feel better, even if only slightly. it makes her feel confident enough to apply for college, because even though she’s always been the top of her class, she’s never felt much drive to do anything more. school had been hell, but perhaps university would be better. perhaps her charity friends and her hero boy would get her through more than she thought was possible.

7 / there is, of course, a brief two year interlude in between the time in which her brothers and her hero boy go missing or are dead, in which she falls into some hideous and harrowing relationship. the boy is cruel and hurtful in as many ways there is, but she has no princes now, no shining armour, and has to crawl her way out of hell. her family notices, or perhaps they don’t, but despite it being six months since she climbed out of the underworld, there is still dirt under her nails and in her hair and on her skin, but nobody has yet to say anything.

BEWILDERED,

8 / as an adult in early childhood education, winnie feels out of place in her own family. everyone around her is so powerful and strong and brave and she hasn’t slept through the night in years due to her own internal panic. she doesn’t fit in – or at least, she feels that way – and she’s painfully aware of it. she forces herself to work excessively so her family maybe doesn’t notice what is so obvious to her.

9 / the thing about early childhood education means that winnie is dealing with kids. she loves kids. she’s good with kids. they love her, too, and teaching them things that she never got a chance to learn in such a warm environment is all she wants to do. to be able to provide a safe home away from home for her students is something that the redhead has thought about for years, and if she can provide an experienced eye, she will.

10 / college also gives her the opportunity to make friends through the ridiculous baking skill she’s acquired. having no friends and a lot of books growing up had lead winnie to the kitchen, and now she’s seldom without a box of fresh-baked something. it’s good. it’s something to focus on so her racing heart and shaking hands don’t get the better of her, and it’s something that people are drawn to. friends are hard to make, but she’s getting there.

11 / winnie is a soft hearted, intelligent girl with a tendency to give in to others. she’s organised, helpful, but doesn’t really know how to look after herself, too busy looking after others instead. if you catch her when she’s at work, she’ll always have some freshly baked goods and some sweets on hand, maybe a book to borrow. as anxious as people make her, she’d really love some friends !! come interact with her.

AND AWKWARD.

POSITIVE / sweet, charitable, intelligent, kind, considerate, gentle, forgiving, romantic. NEGATIVE / submissive, awkward, naive, reclusive, paranoid, secretive, foolish, prudish. NICKNAMES / winnie. D.O.B. / june 23, 1995. STAR SIGN / cancer. LANGUAGES SPOKEN / english, russian, french, german, spanish, american sign language. HABITS / wringing hands, blushing, downcast eyes, tucking hair behind ears. SCARS & BIRTHMARKS / a smattering of faded freckles across her face and arms and a small scar on her collarbone left behind from a physical altercation. WANTED CONNECTIONS / other avenger children as pals, an ex-“almost”, a former bully in the agency, a classmate, an unlikely friend, uncle / aunt avengers, somebody who is protective of her, someone to talk about books with

#unstoppable;intro

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cpt-america-aint-here · 6 years ago

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My friend gave me this amazing, leather bound copy of The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible and I love it and now I hafta make it a Good Omens/Ineffable Husbands thing

There are three options!

1) Crowley gets it for Aziraphale! An obvious and glorious choice! Aziraphale has a vast collection of books, and of bibles specifically, of all different types! He loves them! As a “joke”, Crowley gives this to him. In theory it could be a middle finger. A demon gives an angel a bible that points points out problems??? Oof! He can sell that to Hell! In reality, Crowley knows Aziraphale. Aziraphale loves this copy of the bible because he loves humans and their quirks and goodness and compassion! He loves that (some) humans look at what (some) other humans claim is the book that examples Goodness™️ and say “not good enough! There are injustices within this book! We should acknowledge them!” (Please note that while I, the poster of this, am not religious I think The Skeptic’s Bible is actually respectful and is intended to inform and challenge not attack and degrade.) He pours over this version and tries to better himself and his ways of spreading Goodness™️ as well as just plain old, human invented goodness and kindness. Aziraphale has always, since the Very Beginning, sought to be an example of Love and Acceptance and yeah he’s flawed but so are humans and so is Heaven (he doesn’t think that last part. At least not until After). More than anything though, he cherishes this version because Crowley gave it to him. It’s the only bible Crowley’s ever given to him. Neither of them mention the careful highlighting of every annotation of “Good Stuff” and the small, carefully written note next to the “Good Stuff” entry in the introduction that says, “you’re the only angel that spreads this, I, we, Earth would be lost without you.”

(After the Break Up at the bandstand, Aziraphale stands in the small apartment above the bookstore and holds this book. He doesn’t cry, there’s not time. He whispers an apology and says “I do, I do like you. I’d be lost without you.” He remembers the Holy Water, remembers the terror of Crowley so much as having it. Of what his demon may want it for, may do with it. Crowley says insurance and Aziraphale hears “exit”, hears “escape”, hears “a way out from this pain and the memory of falling and burning”. He’s never far from Crowley after he hands over the thermos. Just in case... The tartan pattern was intentional, planned. He hopes it reminds Crowley of a bowtie and an overcrowded bookstore and shared meals and ducks in a park. But after the band stand, after “I don’t even like you”, he’s terrified that the thermos will remind Crowley of Aziraphale. He hugs the bible tighter and doesn’t pray. Not to God and not to a demon. When they fight again later, he’s utterly consumed with relief that Crowley is standing there in front of him. He doesn’t tell him. Not until later, after a burnt down bookstore and an airfield and a bus ride and two trials. He tells him then. And after everything, he doesn’t hold the bible close and tight and whisper everything he wants to say into its pages; a demon who, deep down, had a little bit of good in him is there in its place instead. As everything is supposed to be.)

2) Aziraphale gives it to Crowley! Less of an obvious option for a variety of reasons (Crowley isn’t a bibliophile; Aziraphale can’t even admit they’re friends, giving such a gift - its a book! to Aziraphale, giving away a book is almost akin to a marriage proposal! - is too much; it’s a bible, Crowley is a demon, seems obvious). But maybe he does! Ostensibly, he’s spreading Goodness™️ and the Words of the Lord™️, he can sell that to Heaven. But in reality, when Aziraphale first read this, he got the same feeling as when he was asked, “What’s the big deal with knowing right from wrong?” And Crowley, Crowley doesn’t quite scoff at the gift, he’s too busy trying to remain unflustered. He never mentions it again but he cherishes the book. For all his spouting about humans doing Badness™️ enough on their own, he silently clings the their displays of, not Goodness™️, but kindness! And here is a bible full of calling out injustice! Of questioning! Of looking at God and Heaven and saying, “Now wait a minute...” The nights when he wakes screaming and drenched in sweat from a nightmare of burning and falling, the days when his wings ache and his eyes itch and humans are destroying each other without any interference from Hell, he reads and reads and reads until his back aches from sitting in the wrong way and his eyes water from squinting at the same words and humans rally around each other in big and small ways. More than anything though, he cherishes the book because Aziraphale gave it to him. It’s the only thing Aziraphales ever given without some stumbled excuse (it’s one of the few shows of Aziraphale’s doubt, of Aziraphale saying, not aloud but saying nonetheless, “maybe you’re not wrong, maybe things aren’t right, you never should have fallen, I’m sorry). They never mention the book in the first place, much less the inscription written in small, swirling handwriting in the very back that says, “perhaps you did do the right thing in questioning. There is nothing wrong in knowing good from bad.”

(He never pulls it out during the whole apocalypse incident. Not once. It sits, hidden, in his bedroom, worn and a bit tattered and held together by demonic will and Love. He rests a hand on its hiding place after “I don’t even like you” and “it’s over”, eyes flicking to the thermos of Holy Water for just a moment. He’s pulled out the two of them - two things Aziraphale has given him - together before. Always the Holy Water first. It’s those burning, falling, wings aching, eyes itching moments. Moments when he longs for oblivion and peace but then he sees the tartan pattern of the thermos and thinks of a blasted tartan bow tie and pulls out the bible and reads. After his world burns and pages turn to ash and no one answers, no one is there, the bookstore is empty other than him and a gaping cavern tears through him and he’d fall and burn for all of eternity to make this stop, to not have hung up on that last call, to not have lied and said he’d leave and never think of his angel, after his world ends, he’s ready to go to his apartment and run his fingers over the inscription as the water melts him into nothing. But, on his knees, he remembers that the thermos is empty. And all of the faith his angel had in him, a demon, did nothing in the end. Aziraphale still burned. He doesn’t know which side did this but he’s ready to bring them both to their knees, to destroy everything they’ve ever cherished and leave them to suffer through eternity like him, broken and alone and having failed to save what they loved. He refuses to think of the bible. Not until later, after a desperate plan and a little boy’s love for his dad and two trials and a rubber duck and dinner at the Ritz. He thinks of it then. And after everything, he doesn’t cling to the bible and pray to a God that cast him out; an angel who, under tartan and blue eyes and righteousness, was a bastard worth knowing, worth loving, is there in its place instead. As everything is supposed to be.)

3) The two of them got roaring drunk one time and accidentally wrote/drunkenly willed it into existence and neither of them ever admit it to A N Y O N E. They both have a copy though, hidden away. Gabriel also has a copy. In fact, he has many. He actively does not know how to read so he doesn’t actually know what it is that always appears in his possession every time he is on earth (sometimes multiple copies appear). He’s sure they must be a gift from the Lord. He proudly displays them. The angels that can read are too afraid to tell him. God can’t go into Gabriel’s office anymore. Not after she saw the dozens of copies displayed proudly and laughed so hard the Earth had an entire day where nothing bad happened and 4 humans on their way to Hell suddenly found themselves at the gates of Heaven with their names on the entrance list.

Tl;dr: I was given a copy of The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible and my entire body screamed Good Omens and Ineffable Husbands. The idea of Crowley giving it to Aziraphale or vice versus murdered me and my family with feels and sadness and I screamed about that for too many sentences. The idea of Aziraphale and Crowley drunkenly creating The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible and Gabriel being an absolute moron momentarily resurrected my will to live and motivation. So I used that resurrection to write this post. I think I’m funny.

#good omens miniseries #good omens #its really just me rambling #the skeptic’s annotated bible #tw suicude #tw #crowley #crowley good omens #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #a/c #air conditioning #look i just had the image #of both of them crying over this book #at different times #but like for the same reasons #because they think theyve lost the other for good #and they cant bear to be without each other #but they cant admit it #because theyre both broken and beaten down #because theyve been destroyed and betrayed by the people that are supposed to be forgiving and loving #but also they cant admit it #because theyre both stubborn and Dumb #gabriel is a dick its fine #god laughs at him because she thinks hes dumb #and the ineffable plan is her slow burn angsty and fluffy fic that ends in Aziraphale and Crowley living in a cottage together with ducks #satan ships it too #annnnnnd im done #oh also i forgot to tag the dumbass #gabriel good omens

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gohyuck · 7 years ago

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into it - m.l.

some of the lowest parts of your senior year with mark, and one of the highest

warnings, a/n, etc. under the cut <3

wc: 6.3k

warnings: school, misuse of prescription medicine, windrawal, angst (dw it ends fairly happy i would say), uhhh some smutty themes. maybe. there’s no actual smut in this it just gets close ig

a/n: this is literally just me projecting onto mark mixed with some other stories from other competitive schools from around me - if anyone wants to talk about how shitty school is with me they’re free too! i’m a slave to gpa. yeet. i think i might’ve projected onto the reader too please don’t @ me...

description should’ve been “in which mark is the author and the reader is the author and the author is barely a person”

idk this fic seems kinda pointless but . anyways

anyways enjoy <3

song: into it - chase atlantic

Yeah I've been catching planes for the fun of it Then I'll be watching fame turn to punishment The weather's only sunny when I'm under it And I haven't really changed, yeah I'm just confident

33 school days until Graduation

Living fire begets cold, impotent ash.

Mark can’t help but reread the line once. Twice. Thrice.

He’s studying to distract himself. That, and he’s studying because he needs to, but mostly, it’s a distraction.

From what?

He’s trying not to think about it.

A small part of Mark wonders why he’s rereading Things Fall Apart. While it’s definitely one of the better school-assigned books he’s been forced to dissect - Chinua Achebe knows how to make a point - its attractiveness diminishes every time he opens it again to page one.

The first time he’d read it, Mark had been captivated without his special little boost. The main character, while terrible, was too relatable - Mark isn’t a fan of failure, either.

The second time was to study for the 60 question test on the novel. It was less interesting this time around, but Mark still diligently annotated it, spending three days with his eyes glued to the page and fingers cramping around his lucky pencil. Every time he closed his eyes, Achebe’s land of Umuofia appeared. It was there when he opened his eyes, too.

The third time was to find evidence to use in his analysis essay on what type of hero Okonkwo is. At this point, all that Mark was sure of was that Okonkwo sure as hell wasn’t his hero. Still, Mark typed until his fingers felt raw.

The 97 scrawled across the top of his printed copy, returned a week later with a slightly smeared red smiley face alongside it, had made it worth it. The knowledge his teacher disclosed to him after class while gushing over his word choice - that nobody in the grade had scored higher than him - doubled his (short-lived) satisfaction.

Now, Mark’s eyes are laser-focused on the novel in front of him. Their teacher had mentioned in passing that there would be a couple of questions pulled from the book on the last test of the marking period, and he can’t afford to miss anything on the test. He’s got a 98 in the class, and the idea of it dropping makes him squirm.

It’s nearing 3 am, and he’s desperately wishing that he’d opted to stay at home and study rather than go skateboarding with Jeno and Jisung right after school. He chides himself on not considering the opportunity cost (God, he’s even thinking in economics now. Economics. Fuck.) before going out. Reaping rewards before sowing them has never worked before - there’s no reason it would’ve today, either.

There are about four bags of Cheez-Its, a half gallon of water, and 20 milligrams of Adderall lying at the bottom of his stomach. He’s kind of hungry, but he can’t be made to give two shits. Mark tells himself that he can eat later. He hasn’t had dinner yet. It’ll be a reward for finishing the book.

Mark’s phone buzzes. Once. Twice. Thrice. He pays it no mind. He’s getting nearer and nearer to the end of the novel, and once he finishes he can let himself go for the night. Calculus is done, as well as French, Physics, and Economics (fucking Economics). There’s nothing in his other classes. He’s got swim practice after school, but there’s no way for him to prepare for that. At least - he hasn’t found one yet.

I'm just fucking lucky I was born with it A hundred million people couldn't deal with this I've been tryna grow cause people kill for it This mental pressure got me popping pills and shit

“Have you considered sleeping early and waking up early to study?”

You don’t answer with a hello when he calls you back - you never have and never will. It’s 4:14 in the morning and you know that Mark’s calling you back now because he’s finished everything. There’s probably Adderall still in his system and a crease in his forehead from worrying that it still isn’t enough studying or time devoted.

“Good morning to you, too.” Mark’s voice is low, lower than usual. It’s the lack off sleep, you know this. You shouldn’t find the huskiness in it attractive, but you do. It’s one of the less fucked up side-effects of the stress both him and you put yourselves through.

“Would be if I wasn’t up at ass o’clock in the morning.”

“Hey - be proud of me. At least I have it in me to work hard like this. The way we’re both going, if we don’t die before college, we can get full rides to the fucking Ivies and end up some crazy millionaire couple on the front of Time magazine. Making 40 million before 40.”

“I love it when you maladaptive daydream to me, babe. Really gets me going.”

Mark chuckles at this, and you hear a rustling sound in the background on his end. He’s putting all of his things into his backpack for tomorrow, you guess. You’re right.

“And I am proud of you.” You continue, knowing that he’s listening, probably with his phone tucked between his shoulder and ear as he tidies up his desk. He can’t put you on speaker - both of you shudder to think what will happen if either of your parents find out that you’re up at dawn, talking to the significant other neither of you are allowed to have. They think you’re both just best friends - two kids too wrapped up in school to have the time to date, anyways. “But, I think you’re nuts. I think I’m nuts. You’re worse, but... anyways. I’m proud of you, but you never call me back this late. It’s usually a “ttyl” text, or some shit. What’s wrong?”

The line goes silent. He’s stopped moving altogether on his end.

He sighs. It’s heavy, and kind of empty, and you immediately know that he’s already cried this out. You wait.

This is what he’d been trying to distract himself from with Things Fall Apart.

“My rank dropped.”

On impulse, you wince in response. The first semester ranks your school had given out not a week earlier are your and Mark’s second to last ranks as seniors - there’s only one semester left to redeem yourself if you fuck up. Even though college applications have been submitted for months and acceptances are about to start coming out, you know that falling still aches.

Top 10% of your class get recognized. Top 10 get special honors and get to walk first. Valedictorian and Salutatorian get to give speeches, five minute pieces that will be forgotten by everyone but them the next day. You’ll all be free for three months before starting the best and worst years of your lives.

Graduation day is the focus now, as it has been since the first day of ninth grade. You’ve managed to stay well within the top 5%, to your own merit, but Mark’s always been in the top 10 - with walking honors.

At least, up until last week.

He’d been 10th at the end of Sophomore year, and now, apparently, he isn’t.

You can’t begin to imagine how he feels.

“How much?”

“Two. My GPA went up a wholeass .1, though.” He’s looking for the bright side by himself, now. It’s progress from last year. A part of you is glad. The other half of your heart aches.

Before you can convey this, or even begin to formulate a response, Mark continues speaking. “I’ve been trying to remind myself that other people would kill to be 12th.” He inhales sharply. “Fuck.”

“And you’d kill to not. You’re killing yourself to not.”

“I -”

“Mark.”

“I’m fine, baby.” His petname sounds forced, as if he can’t believe his own words. “I’m lucky, I have a good memory. You know this. I don’t work myself nearly as hard as you think I do, or as I should be.”

“So you don’t pop pills all the damn time so you can study a week’s worth of material in a night?”

Your voice is tight - you’re no stranger to work and overwork, but Mark is on another plane. It feels like he’s so far gone, sometimes, that you can’t touch him. He’s on the other end of the line, but he’s a million miles away.

He lets a puff of air pass through his lips. Seconds tick by.

Mark breaks the silence.

“It’s getting late. We have class in a few hours. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

You blink. Your anger at him, at the system, and, for almost no reason you yourself can discern, at yourself, wanes just slightly. It really is late - early - and, as if your body realizes this only after Mark says it, you yawn. Mark hears it clearly, letting a small smile grace his features for a split second because of it.

“Night.” It’s short and sweet, but he’s always been able to tell how much you love him. At this point, it doesn’t matter how much or how little you say.

“Night.” His response is just as succinct. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He called, so he hangs up - it’s been your system since the eighth grade. It’s worked surprisingly well for four years.

You wish everything was as easy as who gets to hang up.

After plugging your phone into its charger and turning into your blanket, you stifle another yawn. Before sleep finds you, you can’t help but whisper it into existence, your words muttered into your pillow for whatever higher power finds them-

Let him Be. He deserves it. Let him Be. He works so, so fucking hard. Let him Be.

Your thoughts are muddled, but that’s because it’s nearing 4:45 in the morning. You aren’t even entirely sure of what you’re saying. For what feels like the millionth time, you wonder how you’ll be able to get up in time for school within 3 hours. You wonder how Mark will do it. A part of you hopes that he forgets to set his alarm and gets the sleep he so desperately needs and deserves.

He’s leaning against his car, scrolling through something on his phone when you open your door. You don’t bother checking the time. It’s about 7:54. You’d checked your grades about five minutes ago at 7:48. You’re wearing his favorite sweatshirt - the blue swim team one that’s too small on him and too big on you (it’s his damn shoulders, and that’s the only reason why). He appreciates your outfit, checking to make sure that your parents aren’t outside and leaning across the center console to slip his cold hands under the sweatshirt while finding your lips with his own to show you the extent of this appreciation.

It isn’t until you pull away from him to see that it’s 8:02 that he shifts to Drive, though not before sending you a smirk while buckling his seat-belt and checking his mirrors.

You check your calendar.

32 school days ‘til Graduation.

But I'm into it, I'm into it Say she wanna fuck me later Girl I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it This mental pressure got me popping pills and shit But I'm into it, I'm into it

25 school days until Graduation

You see it as a well-deserved break. You aren’t quite sure what Mark thinks. A distraction? You hope not. You’re more than just a distraction. You should be, at least.

There’s not much time to mull this unpleasant thought over, though, as he teasingly nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. One of your hands flies to his hair, while the other keeps you sitting up in his bed while you’re still leaning back. One of his hands is on your thigh, while the other is splayed across your stomach, hiking your camisole up. His shirt is off - it has been for a while. There’s hickeys dotting his collarbone.

If your mind was working, you’d be admiring your handiwork.

“Your underwear’s still on,” He moves back slightly so his eyes meet yours, your fingers still entangled in strands of dark brown hair. His lips are red from kissing you earlier. You know for sure that your pupils are blown as wide as his are. “Can I change that?” Mark’s fingers are running over the elastic waistband that separates him from your skin.

You blink. You swallow.

A voice in the back of your mind begs you to say yes, begs you to guide his head back to where you want his mouth. You haven’t fucked him in weeks, it whispers. If you don’t now, it’ll be even longer.

“Mark,” His name comes out as more of a whine that you expect. He dips his head down, pressing a chaste kiss on your knee.

“Hm?”

You’re this close - this close - to begging him. You can practically feel him on top of you - inside you - already.

Until, of course, your logic prevails.

“Mark,” You say his name again, without the rawness this time. His gaze bores into yours, awaiting your response.

“Calc.”

Mark stays on his knees for a moment, and in that moment he seems hesitant to move. That’s dangerous - if he stays down any longer, you’ll beg him to continue.

Thankfully, he presses one last, reverent kiss over your underwear before pushing himself up off of the floor. You’re still holding your breath.

“I can’t believe I just got cock-blocked by math.” He grins at you, not perturbed. Mark’s nothing if not respectful. He tosses you your shorts before beckoning you back over to the floor beside his desk.

Mark sits down, cross-legged, in front of you, but not before handing you your math notebook and grabbing his own. Your calculus textbook goes between the two of you.

“We can rain check.” You say. He quirks an eyebrow.

It’s hot. He’s hot.

You imperceptibly shake your head - you’re still flustered, and would give anything to be underneath your boyfriend. The only reason you aren’t is because your math grade depends on you acing tomorrow’s calculus test.

“Come again?” Mark knows what you said - his teasing ass just wants to hear it again. You know what he wants to hear.

“I want you to fuck me later.” You look him in the eyes, pleased to see a hint of a blush. Sometimes you miss the early stages of your relationship - where Mark had been constantly tripping over his own feet and as red as a fire hydrant. You’d been the smoother one, then.

One corner of Mark’s mouth turns up, and he leans over the textbook to give you a short kiss.

“I’m into that.”

I'm getting way too deep I'm fucking into it I'm into it, yeah I'm into it I wouldn't change it for the world I'm fucking into it

He pulls a pill bottle from a box he keeps in the bottom right drawer of his desk. It’s where he stores everything important to him - polaroids of him and you together, his calendar, the swim team schedule and his list of swim times, his phone charger, his planner... and his Adderall.

Mark takes his typical dosage into the palm of his hand, swallowing the pills dry. He moves to put the pill bottle back. It’ll be some time before it kicks in, but the rest of the day is ahead of both of you.

He always takes some before studying, but never asks you to. It’s not something he wants for you. You’ve never asked, too - it’s not something you want for yourself.

Your tongue feels like sandpaper, though, and every breath you take makes it feel as if there’s more lead in your lungs than air. Your math grade flashes through your mind. You need to ace the test for your grade and, by extension, your sanity.

“Babe.” Without being fully aware of yourself, you place your hand on top of his. Neither of you will move from the floor in...hours. You’re sure of this. You may as well make the absolute most of it.

“Give me some.”

I’ve been on the road since I was sixteen They don’t really notice I how I see things These girls they come and go between my bedsheets And I’ve been doing blue and causing big scenes, yeah

17 school days until Graduation

"Remember when we were sixteen?”

“Like... last year? Yeah.”

You turn over onto your side to face your boyfriend, only to find your nose in his bare chest. Mark chuckles. He moves back, allowing you to shift so that you’re face to face with him.

“Fifteen and sixteen, at least. For sophomore year. Do you remember any of sophomore year?”

“Less depression.” His hard words come out soft, paired with an even softer smile. Mark wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your body into his. Skin on skin. “Less getting laid, too.”

“Shut up,” You’re smiling now, too. The melancholy presses against your thoughts.

“I was talking about the less depression part, actually.”

“What about it?” Mark seems and sounds slightly antsier, all of a sudden.

As he always does when you bring up things he might not want to hear.

“Nothing big, just like... don’t you miss it? Going out sometimes and actually feeling like highschoolers?”

“We went to libraries, babe, and to the mall like every couple of months. It wasn’t anything special.”

“It was easier, though.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in. His skin is warm - you aren’t surprised. “No drugs and shit.”

Mark pulls away from you, very, very slightly.

“Adderall isn’t a drug.” His voice is adamant. The speed of his switch from soft to rough is almost alarming. “You’ve had it once. You aren’t addicted.”

You sigh, choosing not to respond. You’re too fucked out to fight him. Instead, you run the pads of your fingers over his collarbone.

“No, but I’m addicted to you.”

Pull up and I’m higher than the big trees, yeah She don’t really like it but she needs me, yeah She saying she don’t really miss me But fuck it, now I’m faded after all things, yeah

12 school days until Graduation

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

He pauses his notes to look up at you, taking in how your eyes are flashing. Your voice is controlled, but the fire in your eyes is unrivaled. The pill bottle is on its side - empty. The last time you’d seen it, which had been the last time you’d thought you’d ever see it, there had been one dosage left. A dosage that you’d been led to believe had ended up being flushed.

You aren’t mad that he lied - at least, you think you aren’t. You’re mad that he, for the first time in years, broke a promise.

Mark is unbothered by your tone. You’ll calm down eventually - whether its sooner or later makes no difference to him. Your boyfriend isn’t actually hearing you, anyways. It’s another reason as to why he isn’t really responding. His silence isn’t an invitation for you to continue, but it’s something nonetheless.

You take it.

“Ranks came out three days ago. You’re back in the top 10, Mark. You’re graduating in the top 10. We’re about to graduate, and you’re spending your time still fucking studying even when there’s only two weeks left of our senior year. You’re still on those goddamn pills when you promised me-”

“Just because I reached one goal doesn’t mean that everything else doesn’t matter anymore.” Short. You expected nothing else.

“What’s everything else? What else is more important than your health? School? We’re pretty much done for three months. We don’t even have any fucking grades left to go in the grade book. We’re done, Mark. Senior year is over.”

He doesn’t respond for a beat of silence - two, three, four beats - fully focused on whatever is in front of him. It isn’t until you cease your pacing to stand directly behind him, hands on the back of his chair, that he even considers gracing you with a comment.

“I’m looking over my times, trying to make a better workout regime so I can shed milliseconds.” Mark is straight with his words - he wants you to stop talking so he can politely ignore you. His shoulders are hunched into himself, his glasses digging into the bridge of his nose. The way he’s staring at the slightly crumpled time sheet in front of him makes you wonder if it’s possible to re-kill dead trees.

“Your times are your lock screen.”

“So?”

“So- so? You always have them with you and you’re always looking at them, you don’t need Adderall to work on a workout schedule. You don’t need it at all, if I’m being fucking honest, and-”

He cuts you off for the second time in less than five minutes, his voice as sharp as a knife.

“You have no damn clue what I need.”

Your hands release his chair on reflex as you step back, everything about your body screaming that you’re offended. Mark pays this no heed, turning back to his desk.

It’s just one sentence, eight words, and part of you wants to argue. Part of you wants to bring up all of the times he’s leaned on you, the times you yourself have been exactly what he needs, but you know that that wouldn’t be playing fair.

He’s gotten like this before, where he’s frozen everyone - frozen you - out without not so much as a thought. You’ve fought before, too, out of inevitability.

He’s never, however, been so blatant or blunt. Nothing he’s ever said before has hurt this much, for some reason. It’s jarring, and, before you know it, your throat is heavy. There are no tears pooling, but you know that they’ll come to you later.

Without a word, you pick up your belongings. You’d worn one of his sweatshirts to his house, but opt to go home without it.

Being petty can be subtle, after all. Mark deserves it, you think, anyways.

You call a goodbye to his mother as you walk out the front door to your car. You make it to the end of his street before having to pull over and park, resting your forehead against the top of the steering wheel. A stray tear finds itself tracing a wellworn track down your face, leaving you to sigh.

God, crying over a boy? Pathetic.

Your intrusive thoughts are screaming - laughing, hysterically, at your state. You dismiss them, willing yourself to think straight.

Not just a boy, I’m crying over Mark.

Sniffling, you beg yourself to get it together. Staying still can only lead to reminiscing over elementary school Mark, who promised you that he’d never leave your side (after, of course, you accidentally eating a worm and bursting into tears out of a fear of dying from it), to 8th grade Mark confessing his feelings for you in PE, moments before getting hit in the face by a particularly well-thrown dodgeball from Yukhei. Mark is as much a boyfriend as he is and almost always has been the most comforting and reliable presence in your life. With him so firmly, without a second thought, dismissing you...

You breathe in. Sharply.

It’s either drive home to avoid the reality of how much of a stronghold Mark has over your feelings or stay parked and traipse down memory lane, like, as you remind yourself, a goddamn pansy. A voice of reason tells yourself not to be harsh on yourself - you’ve known Mark for what? 12? 13? years and it’s normal to be hurt by him brushing you aside. A louder voice tells you to quit pitying yourself.

If Mark hurts himself mentally, you hurt yourself emotionally.

Blinking away forming tears, you sit back and turn the ignition.

5:53 pm

mark...us zusak

>>did you get home safely

maybe<<

>>im glad

cool<<

6:12 pm

>>picking you up tmrw?

sure<<

>>ok

>>i’m really sorry

read 7:09 pm

But I’m into it, I’m into it Say she wanna fuck me later Girl I’m into it, I’m into it, I’m into it This mental pressure got me popping pills and shit

5 days until Graduation

You have to give him credit - after a somewhat teary but controlled argument in his car on the way to school, focused on why Mark really doesn’t need Adderall in his life, and on why he really doesn’t need to carry it with him to college, he really has tried giving it up. All seemed to be going well, even, for a couple of days.

You hadn’t realized how fast withdrawal would hit him.

It isn’t as if either of you are wholly unprepared - you’ve both seen it happen to others. Adderall withdrawal can be dangerous, heightening both depression and anxiety. Even a slight dip in Mark’s mood has the inside of your mouth drying up.

You can’t imagine what it feels like for him.

After all, neither of you are strangers to mental illness, but withdrawal is somewhere you can’t say you’ve been.

Currently, Mark’s tongue is down your throat. The back of your mind screams at you that this is his way of dealing with withdrawal - by getting himself addicted to you. You know that this is the truth - that whatever he’s doing can end up being unhealthy for him - but you don’t have it in you to deny him as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your jeans and his other hand makes its way under your shirt and bra.

You can’t help the moans that escape you.

The pads of his fingers are rough against the skin of your back as he unclasps your bra, pulling it off of you along with your shirt. In the same arc, you hastily pull his shirt over his head, unzipping his jeans not long after.

It isn’t until you’re splayed out on your bed, eyes already fucked out before he’s even touched you, that Mark breathily asks if you’re sure. As he always does.

A part of you wants to deny him - for his own good, you tell yourself. Maybe for your own. (Is it possible to get addicted to a person when you aren’t running away from something else?)

The other, larger part of you wants you to pull his head to yours - his lips to yours - by his neck with one hand, taking the condom out of his grip with the other and telling him that you can put it on him yourself. The other, larger part of you wants Mark everywhere, engraved into your skin and lingering on your body.

The other, larger part of you wants - needs - to say yes.

Majority rules.

But I’m into it, I’m into it I’m getting way too deep I’m fucking into it I’m into it, yeah I’m into it I wouldn’t change it for the world I’m fucking into it

12 hours until Graduation

You find your head against Mark’s shoulder as the two of you recline on the patio’s couch, watching the two of your families interact your joint graduation party. There’ll be a bigger celebration after tomorrow’s ceremony with a bigger crowd, so you cherish the small gathering in your backyard for tonight. Graduation is tomorrow - it almost feels too damn good to be true. The stars are all out, fairy lights have been strung overhead to add to the festivities, there’s laughter rising up from every direction, Mark’s arm is welcome around your shoulders, and you find yourself thinking that you could get used to this.

“You know, I’m glad that we’re going to college together.”

Mark’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to look up at him - albeit slightly sideways. You nod, unsure of what to say in response. You’re in agreement with him, of course - even though you’ve both had your ups and downs, a life without as much Mark in it as now is one that you don’t want to imagine.

He’s been such a constant presence for so long that you’re almost incapable of remembering a time without him. The thought scares you as much as it fills you with love.

Wow.

You really are starting another chapter in your life. In your lives.

A fresh start - Mark’s still going through withdrawal, and you’re well aware, and just because your high school education is over doesn’t mean that life is automatically easier, now. Still - the next three months and four years after that are something to look forward to, not fear.

You aren’t sure how to voice all of this just yet, opting instead to repeat your awe at high school having ended.

“High school’s really all over, now. We never have to step back in that building again.”

Mark chuckles at your revelation, running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly.

“What about reunions?”

You roll your eyes at this, resting a hand on his chest momentarily before remembering that your parents aren’t aware of your relationship. Wriggling out of Mark’s grasp before inclining your head towards all four parents, you remain within a comfortable distance to him. He radiates warmth.

“I’ll only go to them if you and our other friends do. Maybe.”

Mark grins. “Maybe I’ll drag you to them.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t. You’re all I need, anyways.”

“Hyuck? Renjun? Yeri? Jeno?”

“...You’re the one I need the most.”

“Glad to know that you’re an honest man, Mark Lee.” Your teasing tone makes your boyfriend laugh, and you’re hyperaware of how you could get used to this - smiley, lighthearted Mark.

“Your roommate’s going to have fun with you.” He responds, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Hey! I’m not the only one who’s a handful. Lucas? That’s your soon-to-be roommate’s name, right? Lucas has his work cut out for him. For his sake I hope you spend time outside of your dorm room.”

Mark grins as he presses his lips to your temple, simultaneously making sure that everyone else’s attention is elsewhere. He moves away as quickly as he’d kissed you, much to your mental chagrin.

“What? You worried that I’ll leave you for him?”

It’s your turn to nudge your boyfriend. Before you can respond, Mark’s mother’s voice cuts through the air.

“Mark? (Name)? It’s time for the cake!”

Mark gets up first, reaching his hand out to pull you up.

“We’re coming!” You call, before turning to Mark with a half-grin on your face. “This isn’t over yet.”

Mark squeezes your hand before letting go of it.

“Can’t be over if you never started it.”

“Mark Lee!”

Girl I’m into it, I’m into it Say she wanna fuck me later Girl I’m into it I am into it, I am into it

conGRADs, Mark and (Name)!

The sign is both massive and incredibly cheesy, but the amount of happiness it gives you is immeasurable. It hangs over Mark’s front porch, visible from the other end of the street, and as you and Mark pass by them, any neighbors that are out make sure to congratulate you.

You aren’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

The two of you’d escaped the clutches of your overexcited parents a little bit over an hour prior, around 11, under the guise of taking a walk around the neighborhood to talk about your upcoming collegiate futures. That was how you’d ended the night, of course, but before that you’d both beelined to your house, wanting to sit and talk in your bedroom for the time being.

Discussion of your coming lives had sputtered out after a while - after all, it’s all you’d both been talking about for years, now - and you’d wound up situated in Mark’s lap, laughing against his lips.

“We should have graduation night sex.”

His tone is matter-of-fact, so much so that you roll your eyes at his bluntness. “We’re going to have to get back eventually.”

“We have time!”

His laugh against your collarbone is enough to tell you that nothing’ll happen tonight, that time together will just be time together. Still, you can’t help but respond.

“Yeah, time enough at college. We’ll be out of the house in 3 months, baby.”

Mark wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing a chaste kiss to the junction of your jaw and neck. It tickles.

“We won’t have to sneak around and shit, either.” You continue, lightly running your hand through his hair.

“We didn’t sneak around much this year, anyways. Our parents are just oblivious as fuck.”

“True-” You feel your phone vibrate, causing you to squirm around to reach it for a moment before Mark pulls it from your back pocket and hands it to you, mirth in his eyes. You scrunch up your nose at him before answering - its your mom.

“Where are you?” She sounds slightly worried, so you’re quick to mention that you’re with Mark and near your house, both safe and sound.

“Come back quickly - Mark’s cousins are planning on sleeping soon because they start their four hour drive back at 6 in the morning, and we don’t want them to miss their chance to say good night to him.”

You reply with a quick “I’ll tell him - love you.” before she hangs up. Sliding off of Mark’s lap, you help him up.

“Did you hear what she said, or?”

“Yeah. Your call volume’s always been too loud.”

“I, for one, like to think that it’s just loud enough, thanks.”

Mark grins, choosing to loop an arm around your waist instead of replying.

The moment the two of you step inside, careful not to stand too close to each other, you’re bombarded by exclaims from family and friends and family friends alike. It’s getting late, and people are starting to gather up their belongings. You yourself are staying the night, however - otherwise, Mrs. Lee would riot.

You don’t mind.

You close the front door behind you, being pulled into the group of people the moment that you do.

As Mark is dragged into the ending remarks of a conversation with his aunts about something that you can’t quite hear, your mother’s friend’s young daughter tugs you down to her level to congratulate you, shyly placing a pipe-cleaner flower - clearly made by her - behind your ear.

You kiss her cheek before she runs away out of shyness, far quicker than you expect her to be able to. Laughing, you stand up, only to be pulled into a discussion about your plans for college with your parents and one of your uncles.

You briefly make eye contact with Mark - who’s also been given a pipe-cleaner flower - once, winking at him discreetly before turning back to nod along to your uncle’s rant over how you shouldn’t push your passions under the rug for your profession. You don’t see your boyfriend make his way through the throng of people gathered in his foyer - most have started filtering out, leaving by foot or by car - until you feel his hand against the small of your back for a quick moment.

He shakes your father’s hand and hugs your mother before introducing himself to your uncle, who knows of him but doesn’t know him. Time passes quicker with Mark by your side, and, before you know it, it’s 2 am and the only people left in Mark’s how are both of your direct families and your uncle, who’s staying at your house for the night.

“You have everything? Toothbrush? Pajamas?”

You sigh, looking pointedly at your father.

“I’m a college student!”

“Doesn’t mean that you’re responsible.”

You and your dad grin together before you shake your head. Both of your parents and your uncle bid you and the Lees goodnight before Mark’s parents follow them outside, probably to continue talking for a little bit more.

Mark closes the door behind them, turning to you immediately after only to find that you’re already halfway upstairs. He shakes his head affectionately before following you up to his room.

“(Name), you did remember a toothbrush, right?”

“Yeah, but I forgot clothes.”

“I guess you’ll just have to sleep naked - ow!” Mark rubs the skin on his arm where you’d lightly smacked him. It doesn’t erase the playful grin from his face. “Fuck you, fine. You can borrow some pajamas, or something.”

You laugh as you flop down onto his bed before humming inquisitively to yourself for a moment over a question you’ve been mulling over in your head for a short while. You know that summer’s just started, but you can’t help but wonder how it’ll go.

“What’s your plan for this summer? Other than getting ready for our courses and stuff.”

Mark furrows his brows at this while he strips, changing into shorts and a shirt before throwing you one of his longest shirts. You change as well, folding your clothes neatly and placing them on his desk chair to take home tomorrow.

“I haven’t thought about it, honestly. Why?” Mark turns off the hallway lights and opens his door halfway - a rule his parents have for his bedroom door whenever you sleep over. It’s fair, you suppose, even if they don’t know that you’re together. Maybe it’s especially because they don’t know that you’re together.

Mark turns off the light after laying his sleeping bag down on the floor, giving you the bed as always.

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up on the floor next to him, also as always.

“I was thinking...”

“Yeah?”

You turn on your side to face your boyfriend in the dark.

“I was thinking that we could take a road trip.”

A long silence follows your statement, and you begin thinking that you’ve made a mistake asking until, in the dark, you can see the faint outline of Mark’s smile.

“I’m free all summer, babe. Just tell me where and when.”

“For real?”

The excitement in your voice is almost tangible, and you’re half embarrassed at how childish you must sound. Mark, to his merit, just nods while smiling.

He looks up at you, and, even in the dark, you can see the softness in his eyes.

“Yeah,” He pauses, grinning at you.

“I’m into it.”

fin... for now?

im shit at endings but also this has been like...a month coming...i’m gonna come back and rewrite this someday but yeet enjoy.... i should’ve reread before posting but w/e

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