#that time they had to read moby dick in english class

[mapplesand]

Marco : wait the whale in Moby dick isn't a metaphor?

Tristan who had been explaining the whole book for one hour straight: OH MY GOD DID YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS ALL ABOUT A METAPHORICALLY WHALE AND NOT AN ACTUAL WHALE ?

Marco : I DONT KNOW I HAVEN'T READ THE DAMN BOOK

Tristan: WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST HOUR WHEN I WAS RECITING THE LESSON BACK AT YOU

Marco: STOP YELLING AT ME HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS WAS ABOUT A WHALE

[miguelsslvt]

punk! miguel x innocent! reader

word count: 879

TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.

request: @sukioyakio ★

A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^

imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).

most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.

but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.

you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.

despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.

'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.

'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.

that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.

soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.

that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.

'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.

his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.

'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.

he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.

your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.

'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.

'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.

'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.

you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.

you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.

god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

[goodluckclove]

The Resistance Against Classical Literature (a ramble)

So I was talking a lot tonight to my colleague and editor @xarrixii, who is also one of my few field reporters regarding the state of Modern Precocious Youth Culture. They were telling me that the new average in English classes is - I think their exact words were "lower than you'd expect". I knew this already to some extent as I've heard more and more about the rise of varying degrees of illiteracy in younger generations.

I see a lot of people my age or older dunking on these kids and young adults for being near illiterate, some of them with a tone implying that this is somehow the choice, much less fault, of the students in question. Students these days are so aggressive and can barely read or write! Yeah dude I don't know about you but I get the sense those two observations are connected.

Anyways, while talking about why that may be, I mentioned how I'd seen a pretty major dislike for classic fiction and literary fiction in online spaces. When I saw the comments shrugging it off or condemning it as a genre, I responded with mainly brief confusion before moving on. But I feel like exploring the concept now and I guess that's going to be the problem of whoever follows past the read more.

So the first thing I figured was that Classic Fiction and Literary Fiction are two genres with pretty loose definitions that can vary depending on who's defining them. Literary fiction, after some quick research, generally seems to be considered a work of non-genre fiction that focuses on style, theme, and characters over plot. Most of my bookshelf is literary fiction, mainly from like the 50's to the modern age. That's just what I'm into. I also have a ton of books of Stephen King and Chuck Palahinuik. I'm complicated.

Classic fiction is even weirder to pinpoint. It seems to just be a notable book that stayed notable over the course of time over the course of generations for some reason or another. Maybe it's a great example of the genre. Maybe it's emblematic of a certain era in time. Maybe it proposed ideas divisive enough for people to argue over perpetually. That appears to be it, though.

Immediately you may notice this covers a TON of ground. This list of 200 notable books starts in the 1800s and covers a lot of the dusty go-to titles. Pride and Prejudice, Moby Dick, Great Gatsby - the kind of thing you probably had to read in an English class at some point. But go on and you find a way different vibe. The Haunting of Hill House. Beloved. American Psycho. All of these considered just as influential as something in the 1800s, just slightly newer in the scope of human existence.

I kind of figure the more prominent issue is that when people lament about classics they're actually talking about the Literary Canon, which is a sort of nebulously growing collection of what some authority of academia determined to be the best, most influential books to humanity as a whole. Are they right? To some extent, I'm sure. Domino effect and all. But since it's major push in I think the 1920s, it's been altered and expanded on to include people who are something other than white and biologically male and predominantly European. I know while I was still in high school the curriculum in California barely got the message.

I don't blame the teachers. Teachers have far less control over the material they can cover than what you might think - at least in public school. But when people say classics as a genre exist exclusively of [Stock photo ID:1083619858 from iStock.com], they are wrong and also have a perfectly sensible reason to think that.

I think execution plays a huge part in this. There's a deceptive glory in being well-read that starts great (It is objectively a good thing to be exposed to a variety of stories and ideas regardless of whether or not you end up liking them), but becomes so self-involved that it eventually becomes harmful to the cause. Maybe it's that the curriculum goes by at such a speed that you're unable to read and process a story as the author intended. Maybe you're in a space where you don't feel like you can say that you find a book held in Such High Regard to be mediocre, or even straight-up bad without it being a whole goddamned thing. As someone who was briefly an English Major, I am fully aware that there is a collection of books and writers that certain people are just insufferable about.

This is not an anti-intellectual thing. I would not take someone who - let's say, sees me reading Franny and Zooey by JD Salinger and sees it as an excuse to ramble bitterly about Catcher in the Rye unprompted - and call them an intellectual. I would consider that person to be someone who really likes to hear themselves talk and refuses to acknowledge that debates should be consensual.

What I mean is that there is a way to talk about older authors, revered authors, authors with big ideas that have lasted for years and years, and fucking pitch them better. The authors of even the oldest literary novels weren't dead-eyed back cover photos, artfully brooding and just exuding genius. They were writers, which means more often than not they were prone to some form of wacky neurosis.

Ernest Hemingway was a drunk and a fighter who loved guns but not gun safety. There's a much darker punchline to this setup that you're probably thinking of, but when I wrote it I was really referring to how he once shot himself in the calves by accident while fishing. He also opened fire on a hotel toilet during a messy divorce. Hemingway is also widely considered to be some variation of gender non-conforming.

Franz Kafka was an angsty guy who loved cocaine and simping over his long-time editor, and his dying wish was for all his work to be burned because the man was dramatic to the end (But also weirdly funny and apparently would crack himself up at his own writing). Jules Verne, the reason why I spent the latter half of one summer plodding my way through 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea, tried to hop a ship as a Cabin Boy so he could bring a coral necklace to the girl he loved - who was, incidentally, also his cousin.

These people wrote profoundly influential works. If you only read modern authors, those authors were almost certainly influenced by an older author they read and loved at some point. The Western Canon may no longer have the same use it once did, but there's a definite benefit in exploring books that gained a great deal of lasting notoriety, regardless of whether you love or hate them. It's good for everyone, but if you're a writer I go as far as to say it's crucial for development and inspiration.

Yes, there's good books now. I agree! But if you're someone who is avoiding the entirety of the 20th century in terms of literature, I would love for you to explore why. They don't have to be cisgender, straight men. They don't have to be white or American.

You aren't like an inherently cooler, smarter and more morally righteous person for reading these books and anyone who says they are is weird and boring. At the same time, there is an expanse of literature guarded at times by just the lamest doofuses that has the potential to make you feel something. It can change your perspective even if you hate it. Invisible Man had an ending so haunting when I finished it I walked out of class without saying a word and cried in the rain. Like Water for Chocolate annoyed me enough that I decided to try more of the genre to see if it was all like that and now I'm way into magical realism.

10,000 Leagues Under the Sea still makes me so fucking angry because Jules Verne was crazy horny for listing fish. Also his cousin, i guess? God damn, man.

Anyways it's late and I've lost the topic a long time ago. Books good. People who get super snobby and reverent over authors to the point where they're no longer people who wrote books are dumb. It's kind of making more sense in retrospect that Hemingway could've been some form of queer because while I did like A Farewell to Arms his work does tend to be aggressively Straight Man. I just learned the whole gender-y thing about him tonight so that's kind of blowing my mind.

[hongluboobs]

book reader i have a copy of dream of the red chamber (volume 1) that ive been trying to get through for over a year how do i motivate myself to finish it

I'm recently coming out of a half a year ish period of not reading very much so trust me when I say the lack of motivation comes for us all. I think I have some tips for how to motivate reading in general+ some for DOTRC specifically :)

(Real quick, I assume because you mentioned a volume 1 you're talking about the Hawkes-David translation published by Penguin in five volumes under the name 'The Story of The Stone'. This is the translation I read through, and it's the one I see recommended most to english speakers looking for an enjoyable reading experience, so to any other prospective readers of this novel I HIGHLY recommend reading this translation as opposed to any other ones. I don't know if I need to say this or if it's well-known to seek out that version, but because Hong Lu's canto is coming up I want to make sure anyone interested in reading through the source material can have the best experience possible with it👍)

It's important to remember that reading is a hobby, and the best way to keep going with it is to make it a habit. Unfortunately, this means forcing yourself to read sometimes, but it comes easier the more you do it. The trick is: it doesn't have to be a lot of reading.

The hard part for me is really just picking up the book and starting to read. Normally with books I like to set a goal of a chapter or so per day, but because this book has longer chapters that wasn't always feasible for me, especially if I had stuff to do. But once I had the book in my hands and started reading I would usually go above my goal I had set :)

Last year a lot of my DOTRC reading was done while I was waiting in line for things, getting/eating food, waiting on the bus, or killing time between classes/during boring lectures (I don't know if I'd advise that last one). This is moreso once you get in the rhythm of things, though.

Another tip is sometimes the format is the thing to stop me. I don't know if you're reading from a physical book or an ipad/kindle/etc or a computer or what, but sometimes I read better on my laptop than other things because it's Always Around. Sometimes I don't feel like grabbing a book or I don't have it with me, but my laptop's already open and I'm bored so maybe I'll do a little bit of reading instead of scrolling social medias. Lately, i've been jumping between my laptop and kindle for reading (laptop for convenience, kindle for portability and reading before bed at night) but I've gone between physical books and digital devices before. (If you want the epub versions of dotrc, I'd be willing to share them as well. The only difficulty is page numbers change between reading formats so I can only really switch at the start of chapters or if I skim to where I last was.

Something that saved me while reading DOTRC specifically (as well as other sinner books) was having a place I could discuss/"liveblog" the book. These books can get LONG and the reading experience varies from "really interesting and compelling" to "oh my godddd I do not need 20 pages of Outdated Whale Facts right now". (no offense to Moby Dick. I'm only slandering that one because I read the whole thing and in spite of enjoying it I understand why there are SO many abridged versions around.) It's kind of just the classic lit experience to deal with these types of things, but it's a lot more tolerable to me if you can talk to other people about it.

When I read DOTRC I didn't have anyone else reading with me, but just having a place to tell people about all the things that happen in this book helped me to keep track of events and characters. It also motivated me to keep reading so I could tell The People what happened next. Having someone else read with me would probably have helped as well, but it's hard to sell people on reading a 5-volume behemoth of a novel with so much stuff in it it has it's own field of study dedicated to it.

You can really yap anywhere. I have a channel in my Limbus Discord dedicated to the books so I don't drive everyone insane with my rambling and it seems to have helped some of my friends get through some of the other books as well so I think this method is a pretty solid success? You could also pretty easily do it just in someone's DMs if they're already familiar with the book (this has the bonus of them potentially being able to clarify things for you and help you get a deeper understanding of the book) or even yapping on a tumblr sideblog or empty notes doc or something.

So TL;DR:

Picking up the book is the hardest part. Reading a little is better than not reading at all.

Subjecting your friends to this book will make it easier to keep going :)

Also: for Dream of the Red Chamber specifically: the book starts slow. I don't know how far in you are, but so many people drop it early. I started reading it during a 12-ish hour car ride and that might've been the play because i can see people getting bored during the first few chapters. It definitely picks up though, so trust me when I say it gets a lot easier to read as you keep going. Chapter 5 is an incredibly interesting chapter, and from there I find things pick up and start going faster. (It helps that chapter 5 is pretty relevant for the direction I think Limbus is going to take canto 8 in!) The later volumes were able to go by a lot faster for me than the earlier ones as well.

This is a long ass book, but it's gonna be a while before Hong Lu's canto drops and we get to Witness that Surrender. Or Surrender that Witness. I'm not actually sure. But regardless, you've got plenty of time to get through it, even if you're a slower reader or don't have much time to dedicate to reading. Steady progress is the name of the game for stuff like this.

Worst case, you've killed a bunch of time during the wait for Hong Lu's canto (because oh boy, I have a feeling this one's gonna be a wait) and you are able to gain a better appreciation for canto 8 by understanding some of the nicher bits of how it adapts stuff from the source.

Best case, you really enjoy reading it and end up like a bunch of the Hong Lu fans I know who were permanently changed by reading this book and started reading scholarly analysis of it for fun (or start seeking out every adaptation of it you can find, or read the book 5 times over... I am coming to realize this book does something to people.)

This book is legitimately incredibly good, even outside the context of me reading it because I was very invested in that beautiful cyan freak from a game I like. I might not have been able to get through it without Limbus providing me the push to keep going on days where I really didn't want to read, but it's a legitimate interest of mine now I will seek out information on regardless of its connection to Limbus! Trust me when I say it's worth getting through even if it feels hard or tedious.

(and if it helps- a solid amount of the stuff I feel is most likely to be Limbus relevant happens near the end of the book. There's so much in this book so things that could be relevant are scattered throughout almost all of it, but I've been picking up so many end of the book vibes from stuff we've seen lately. so you've got to get there!!)

[grimm-the-tiger]

Dumb shipwreck facts because I need to hyperfixate for a moment: 

The only Olympic-class (Britannic, Titanic, and Olympic) ship that was actually unsinkable was the Olympic. Olympic took full advantage of this and became the only merchant vessel in WWI on record to sink an enemy vessel (it didn’t discriminate, either; Olympic actually sank two vessels during its service, one of which was a friendly lightship during peacetime). 

It took 150 years to discover what happened to the infamous Lost Franklin Expedition because the English were too racist to ask the natives. The Canadians, meanwhile, found the wreck of one of their ships, HMS Terror, in a fraction of the time by asking an Inuit hunter named Sammy Kogvik for help. 

There are at least two wrecks in Lake Erie that we may never find because the lakebed quite literally swallowed them. 

On a related note, Lake Erie might have the highest concentration of shipwrecks of any body of water in the world. 

Lake Superior is actually the least lethal Great Lake, despite its reputation, but over half of its wrecks are located around Whitefish Point, most notably the Edmund Fitzgerald. 

The Bermuda Triangle doesn’t actually have a very high disappearance or wreck rate. It’s considered weird because the gulf stream carries any wrecks and debris out of the search area, making it that much harder to find any remains. 

There’s a disturbing tendency for ships, particularly freighters, to not only split in half while they sink, but for the back half (the stern) to keep going, sometimes for miles. The most notable case of this would be the SS Pendleton, an oil freighter that wrecked off the coast of Massachusetts; the rescue of the crew on its stern is considered to be one of the most daring Coast Guard rescues ever pulled off. 

Most ships built before 1950 were made with subprime or low-grade metal, which is believed to be part of the reason why they split in half so often. This metal turned brittle in colder water; guess where most of these wrecks were. Some wrecks believed to have fallen victim to this include the Titanic, the aforementioned Pendleton, the Carl D. Bradley, and the Daniel J. Morrell. 

An Arctic cruise ship took on a Venezuelan patrol boat and won. Said patrol boat was trying to force the cruise ship, the Resolute, to come ashore. Ships create depressions in the water (you most often see this in the “wake”) called displacement, and it’s generally believed the patrol boat underestimated the strength of the Resolute’s displacement and was sucked into its path, ending up crushed by Resolute’s icebreaker-grade hull. 

While we can be reasonably certain what sank the Marquette & Bessemer No. 2 (it was a train ferry with an open back and had previously had a near-accident when a wave slammed directly into the opening, almost flooding it), what we don’t know is what happened before and after. One of its lifeboats was found with nine bodies and the clothing of a tenth. The ship’s steward was found armed with two knives and a meat cleaver, and the captain’s body was found some time later with slash wounds. It’s agreed that the steward killed him, but why remains a mystery. 

Moby Dick was based on the sinking of the Essex, a whaling ship that was rammed and sunk by its own prey. The crew resorted to cannibalism to survive; ironically, they would’ve been rescued sooner had they not avoided a nearby island chain for fear of cannibal tribes. 

Don’t read about the sinking of the Estonia. Just...don’t. It’s not pleasant. For some hint of how awful it was, despite being reasonably close to the surface no one was ever able to get all the bodies out because of the sheer number of them. 

On a much lighter note, the Swedish Navy in the 1700s poured thousands of kroner into building a mighty flagship for their navy, the Vasa...only for the Vasa to sink less than 300 yards into its maiden voyage. Turns out they gave it too many guns, making it too top-heavy, and it capsized. 

The Canadian freighter Bannockburn disappeared in a storm in 1902. Almost all of its crew were in their late teens and early 20s; the youngest was 16. Companies would hire younger, less experienced men to work aboard their ships because they were cheaper. The Bannockburn has never been found. 

Speaking of Lake Superior shipwrecks, there’s a saying that “Lake Superior never gives up her dead”. It’s not wrong; the temperatures at the bottom are cold enough to halt the decaying process, which prevents the bodies from rising to the surface. The most notable instance of this is Old Whitey, the nickname for a body found in the engine room of the Kamloops who has never been identified. This is also the reason no one is allowed to dive to the Edmund Fitzgerald; the crew’s bodies are still aboard the wreck, and it’s considered disrespectful at best to dive to a place that for all intents and purposes is a graveyard. 

It took over 100 years and numerous deaths from scurvy for anyone to realize that eating raw meat can prevent it. They discovered this on a Belgian arctic expedition where one of the crewmen, drawing on past experience, somehow managed to convince the rest of the crew to eat raw penguin, rapidly decreasing the number and severity of scurvy cases onboard. 

To end this on a lighter note, the saying “Batten down the hatches” is an actual maritime phrase; hatches are openings in the ship’s deck used to bring cargo inside and, on older ships, allow passengers and crew on deck. Hatches let enormous amounts of water into the ship in bad weather, and are often “battened down” (covered up) to prevent water from getting in. It will probably not surprise you to learn that not battening down the hatches or not doing it properly has caused its fair share of wrecks; notably, it’s believed that the Cyprus, an ore carrier that was said to be leaving a red trail in its wake the day before it capsized, was leaving said trail because its hatches were improperly sealed; water was getting into the hold, mixing with the cargo of iron ore, and then being pumped out, hence the red wake. 

[ultimafangirl]

Y'know, speaking of plagiarism (yes I know I'm late who cares) but it reminds me of time in high school where I heard a girl in my English class get in trouble with the teacher about her book report. And the only thing I remember hearing is that he could obviously tell that she had only copied the sparknotes... and I had used the sparknotes for mine too. I didn't get caught. Didn't read the book either (Moby Dick (Bones and Thorn aren't the only ones it puts to sleep))

On the other hand I remember in middle school wood shop class when it was time to turn in our projects (it was basically the egg drop but with cars) I discovered mine was missing. When I went to the teacher it turned out that the other kid had stolen my project and claimed I stole it from him. Teacher went off on me when I tried to argue that it was mine and accused me of being the thief but backed off when he threatened to send me to the office and I said "ok let's go". Never liked that man. Don't remember what grade I got on the project but I don't remember my parents saying anything to me about a 0

[raisinchallah]

2, 4, 12!

2. Did you reread anything? What?

i dont think i reread anything this year i feel like over the past couple years ive been trying to get back into reading again after depression and school causing a link between reading and tortuous assignments leading me to not really read much for years i have not felt like i had a ton of books i want to go back to yet cuz most of the books id want to reread are still too fresh in my mind tho i have wanted to reread canticle for leibowitz for a long time..

4. Did you discover any new authors that you love this year?

hmm i actually didnt really have a specific author phase this year i havent read many books by the same author at all but i do really wanna check out monica ojeda's second book that just got translated into english jawbone was a very interesting read

12. Any books that disappointed you?

our wives under the sea oooh i really went from the highest highs (discovering someone wrote a book that seemingly combined a bunch of my favorite things and could have been the book ive been waiting for for so long with weird transformations and creepy ocean shit and gay people) to the lowest lows (reading the book and hating it) literally interminably dull and spent more time worrying about the boring social problems of middle class gay people with no gay friends who also dont like their friends that much and feeling sad ur disconnecting from ur marriage instead of focusing on the wife undergoing unknown transformations into a weird sea creature in the tub like oh ok sorry i expected this to be about the weird shit under the ocean and sinister scientific organizations and mysterious disappearances and is instead like sci fi metaphor for a break up thats also just a regular break up ok :( the writing also was simply not that good the only time i was like wow thats a really well put together sentence it was revealed it was actually just a quote from moby dick lol so i ended up reading moby dick after i finished the book anyways still searching for my dream book about women undergoing bizarre transformations under the ocean both books that purported to be about that have sucked :( (starfish by peter watts and this one)

[alliluyevas]

I hated almost all the assigned reading for English as a second language. I remember I had to read Extremely loud and incredibly close when I was sixteen. We were reading classics in our own language at that point and it just felt embarrassing. I read Moby Dick for fun around the same time and I loved it

yeah I think it is extra hard to pick literature for foreign language courses because you definitely want to properly represent the other culture and its notable works but also work with where most of the students are at fluency-wise. I would also be a bit miffed to get Extremely Loud And Incredibly close instead of classics but maybe the teacher thought your peers weren’t at the level of fluency necessary? We did a lot of poetry/short stories in my language classes so we could read the whole thing without biting off more than we could chew…in Russian in college we read sections of War and Peace in Russian but at the same time read the whole thing in English translation. I think if I’d tried to read War and Peace in Russian it would have taken me about fifteen years rip my skills were not at that level. Also Moby Dick is on my read more classics list, I know so many people who loved it!

[inthemirrordorkly2]

I got the free trial so you don't have to. Here's a paragraph-by-paragraph summary of the article and all included links (some of those links are also paywalled though):

Professor Nicholas Dames has taught Lit Hum (Literature Humanities) at Columbia University since 1998. He notes that in the past decade, his students feel overwhelmed by the prospect of reading multiple books a semester. Other professors have noticed the same.

Dames is shocked when a student tells him that she has never before been required to read an entire book for a class; her high school only assigned excerpts, poetry, and new articles.

Dames realizes that students simply don't know how to approach reading a full book. Link 1, Atlantic article "Why kids aren't falling in love with reading"

Quote from Martha Maxwell “Every generation, at some point, discovers that students cannot read as well as they would like or as well as professors expect.” Dames acknowledges that it's common for people to go "kids these days?!?!" Are kids today actually worse at reading books?

Dames does think his students are worse at reading, as his students 20 years ago could read long classics like Crime and Punishment and Pride and Prejudice. Students are slower and also struggle to balance paying attention to small details with paying attention to the plot.

There's no data on this trend, but the author has spoken to 33 professors at various universities who corroborate Dames' opinion. One professor says his students struggle to focus on sonnets.

Link 2, Atlantic article "End the Phone-Based Childhood Now" Teenagers are always on their phones and are distracted. In 1976, about 40 percent of high-school seniors said they had read at least six books for fun in the previous year, compared with 11.5 percent who hadn’t read any. By 2022, those percentages had flipped. (No studies are cited for those statistics)

Link 3, Atlantic article "The Schools That Are No Longer Teaching Kids to Read Books" Link 4, New York Times article "English Class in Common Core Era: ‘Tom Sawyer’ and Court Opinions" Common Core and No Child Left Behind emphasized standardized test scores, leading more schools to teach to the test; teachers now teach short passages to mimic the style of standardized testing.

There's no way to measure long-form reading stamina; teachers have stopped assigning classic books. Links 5 & 6 of My Antonia and Great Expectations.

Link 7, Education Week article and survey "How to Build Students’ Reading Stamina." Of about 300 third-to-eighth-grade educators, 17 percent said they primarily teach whole texts. An additional 49 percent combine whole texts with anthologies and excerpts. Nearly a quarter say books are not the center of their curricula. Link 8, bookshop link the The Odyssey. More anecdotes from teachers about how students are reading fewer books and more excerpts with other types of media included in the curriculum.

Private schools still read more books, but the shift away from whole texts is happening in private schools as well.

The issue at elite universities is different from the literacy issues at community colleges and nonselective universities. Students can still decide sentences, spell, etc, but they still have short attention span and aren't as ambitious as previous generations of students.

Many college professors have dealt with this by also relaxing their standards and assigning fewer texts. Link 9, bookshop link to The Iliad

An American literature professor at Columbia, Andrew Delbanco, now teaches excerpts and short stories instead of full texts in some of his classes. Links 10 & 11 to bookshop pages for Moby Dick and "Billy Budd, Bartleby, and Other Stories"

Columbia has trimmed its reading list, which to be fair, has grown in recent years. The program's chair, Joseph Howley, says he'd rather students focus on reading in depth.

Some professors don't believe that shortening their reading lists will solve the issue, as current students are more focused on their job prospects than in the past.

Both enrollments in the humanities and students' time spent reading are declining, possibly due to the same factors. Link 12, Harvard student life survey. Students spend nearly as much time on jobs and extracurriculars as on academics. Link 13, Harvard 2020-2022 grade report, showing that 79% of grades were As for that school year.

Students today are reading fewer books. Older adults have always read more books than younger adults, but fewer people overall are reading books for fun. Some professors report that students see reading novels as a retro activity.

The economic survival of literary magazines like the Atlantic hinges on people reading, but reading is also important for helping people build empathy for those different than them.

Link 14, NPR article on deep reading. Short form works don't allow for the empathy that long-form works do.

Paragraph OP screenshot; students say their favorite books are Percy Jackson instead of Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre. (There are links to all 3 of these but I'm tired and y'all know how to look up books. Maybe I'm the problem with this generation lmao)

Author light-heartedly opines that while the Percy Jackson books have merit, they aren't a replacement for reading all of The Iliad.

1. https://www.theatlantic.com/books/archive/2023/03/children-reading-books-english-middle-grade/673457/

2. https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2024/03/teen-childhood-smartphone-use-mental-health-effects/677722/

3. https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/06/nyc-schools-stopped-teaching-books/678675/

4. https://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/20/nyregion/english-class-in-common-core-era-nonfiction-joins-the-classics.html

5. https://bookshop.org/p/books/my-antonia-introduction-by-jane-smiley-willa-cather/396405?ean=9780525562863

6. https://bookshop.org/p/books/great-expectations-penguin-classics-deluxe-edition-charles-dickens/11702080?ean=9780143106272

7. https://www.edweek.org/teaching-learning/how-to-build-students-reading-stamina/2024/01

8. https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-odyssey-penguin-classics-deluxe-edition-homer/15509341?ean=9780140268867

9. https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-iliad-penguin-classics-deluxe-edition-revised-homer/15279783?ean=9780140275360

10. https://bookshop.org/p/books/moby-dick-or-the-whale-herman-melville/18595562?ean=9780142437247

11. https://bookshop.org/p/books/billy-budd-bartleby-and-other-stories-herman-melville/9364272?ean=9780143107606

12. https://features.thecrimson.com/2023/senior-survey/academics/

13. https://www.thecrimson.com/article/2023/10/5/faculty-debate-grade-inflation-compression/

14. https://www.npr.org/2024/04/30/1196979151/how-to-practice-deep-reading

Ppl on the other hellsite losing their minds over this in every imaginable direction lmao

[makingshortstorieslong]

trying to pack up all my everything for while I’m living out of the country for an unknown number of years. in case my parents move and also so even if they don’t they can use this space that was my room. good idea. but anyway I am experience so many emotions

I just did this too when I “moved out” for college and there was that whole “misunderstanding” where my mom like. Semi accidentally kicked me out? that was so weird but anyway I took Literally Everything to my college apartment. Only to move it back in two years later. And anyway I cut down on some shit then but I acquired more shit since (thanks to getting stuff from when my grandparents moved in with my aunt) and anyway now I have to put everything I own into bins and I keep going back and forth between so tempted to toss so much out - I don’t care about this lamp or this clipboard or this cookbook or this stapler I can replace it - and keeping like. My recorder music book from fourth grade. The cup I’ve kept my pencils in since I was. Six? Five? That I decorated with silly foam. An Italian-English dictionary. A Spanish-English dictionary. An English dictionary.

anyway the truth is my mom bought a lot of these plastic bins and I just need to fill them carefully up with stuff and it’s fine if that stuff is nostalgic miscellany or if it’s ultimately useless that’s for me to worry about eventually if I’m ever like. Not bouncing around from place to place renting forever. Or even if I am so long as that bouncing around is back here in the US

also shoot did I put the Italian English dictionary in the goodwill bin I actually really want that. I’ve never learned Italian.

I swear I’m not that attached to stuff and like I don’t collect things (well I do now collect postcards but like. they don’t take up a lot of stuff) but once I have something I fucking keep it. I stuck Harold (the plastic skeleton) and Isolde (the fake spider) in the goodwill bin too

(the goodwill bin I mention is still in my room. I can retrieve these things. I think I’ve sold myself on keeping the dictionary. I might… see if I can bequeath Harry and Isolde to a good home.)

(This would all be much better if I could give my random beloved crap to people personally rather than sending it to a second hand shop. Like when I got rid of most of my YA books I gave them to a 12 year old I knew. And right now I am giving some books to friends at least. But again some of this stuff is like. A broken jewelry box. My kindergarten music class glockenspiel that’s missing the smallest … bar? key? note? noise making metal thingy.)

(Speaking of which can I interest anyone in a copy of Moby-Dick? It turns out I had two. I’m keeping the one I originally read it in, I plan to read that book again multiple times in my life, but I really don’t need two. It doesn’t have a cool cover or anything but it is a nice hardcover book)

[aliaoftheknives]

Dunno what people are talking about on twitter I like to read and peruse literature. One of the only enjoyable moments of my high school career was me trying to convince my teacher that Nick and Gatsby were gay 

[mercury-f4lls]

I completely blame bsd for my classic literature hyperfixation.

Like, before I got into it I had NO interest in reading in reading anything by old english authors and especially not classic japanese authors. Now I cry at Dazai Osamu books every other day and read Nakahara Chuuya poems religiously and am practically foaming at the mouth cause we get to read Agatha Criste’s And Then There Were None for class and my ela teacher really likes E.A Poe so we read one of his short stories a lot and I eat it up EVERY TIME

So yes, bsd is the reason I am asking for The Great Gatsby, Moby Dick, Crime and Punishment, etc for my bday and my parents are questioning why I suddenly want to read classic novels

[a-queer-little-wombat]

So, long ago and far away, in my freshman year of college, I went to a small liberal arts university. I was studying engineering, which has own set of stories, but one of the lasting things I remember about that year came from a class I wasn't even taking. The professor of whichever higher-level English class it was that read Moby Dick had a tradition in which, during the end of finals week, he would gather his students in a lecture hall and they would take turns reading chapters of Moby Dick out loud until they reached the end. Every year, they would start at about 8am and typically finished at about 8am the next morning and then go out for breakfast at IHOP. Everyone there at the end was invited to come, and he would buy breakfast for any student who stayed the entire time.

I had never read Moby Dick, but the *concept* was irresistible to weirdo freshman who still could stay up all night me, so I showed up sometime about or after midnight. For quite a while, I just listened - I didn't even have a copy of the book with me! Fortunately, when the turn to read came around to me, someone lent me their copy ... and I did stay late enough to go get some IHOP.

It's actually kind of compelling as a story, when listened to.

Several years later, I finally got myself a copy and dragged myself through reading the whole thing. It's a slog to read in print. I suspected at the time that the *story* was interleaved with a How To Whaling volume - so if you're ever considering reading it, just skip every other chapter that's whaling tutorial.

[anjuschiffer]

Waltzing Among Books

I should be sleeping...but here I am, delivering fluff instead :D

--

Tags: @timari-month-event  @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan  @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh @startouchedqueen1318 (why isn’t it letting me tag you? QQ)

--

AO3

She wondered if she looked like an utter fool, standing in front of the same bookcase for the last ten minutes when clearly, she didn’t need anything else from it...except time.

Marinette turned her head ever so slightly to see the guy standing at the other aisle of the bookshop, quickly going back to searching for a novel for her English class when she saw him about to turn her way.

She found Moby Dick ever so interesting, picking up A Midsummer’s Night next, only then realizing it was one of the books she needed for her class.

She shifted her gaze, only to find that the he was no longer there, a tiny sigh escaping her.

Ever since she started her first semester at Gotham University, Marinette found herself constantly going to the bookstore nearby for workbooks, textbooks and novels for her classes. Sometimes, she would even do her work there, settling in a corner and reading the books then and there. She loved the quietness of the shop, the smell that would waft whenever she would turn the page of a freshly printed book.

But of course, that wasn’t the only reason she came here.

It was during her third trip to the bookstore that she saw him.

He always sported a black cardigan under hero merch in the form of a Superboy bomber jacket or a Superman inspired coat. Sometimes it wasn’t even hero merch, but just a black peacoat.

His hair was always perfectly parted ever so slightly off the middle, his hair softly framing his face. For a guy with long hair, it certainly had a nice shine to it, the tips of it ever so wavy, Marinette often wondering what it would look like if she were to have the opportunity to style it her way. 

To be able to comb her fingers through his hair, combing it backwards and styling it with a bit of gel, letting it naturally sway to the si-

Heat creeped to her cheeks, Marinette instantly crouching towards the floor, pretending to look for another book.

Each time she came to this store, she always managed to find him looking for novels as well, wondering if he was also a student at Gotham University, only to cross that idea out when she overheard him tell someone on the phone that he found the book they were looking for. 

Sometimes he would just be an aisle over, sometimes she would be able to see him from the corner she was sitting at, but every single time, he was within her view.

It kinda became the highlight of her visits, almost like reliving her first crush all over again - the giddiness and all that, that is.

At first, she thought it was mere coincidence, but judging by the majority of times she’s seen him here, she knew this was a cruel game from the Gods. 

They knew she wouldn’t be able to gather the courage to talk to him, even if this was the umpteenth time seeing him here.

Sighing, Marinette got back up, turning to actually look for another textbook when she crashed into someone, causing her to stumble back, only for a hand to wrap itself around her waist, catching her.

Placing her hands on the person’s chest to prevent herself from slamming into them again, Marinette immediately began to apologize, only to trail off when she lifted her gaze to see who she had bumped into.

From afar, she always thought his eyes were a royal blue, but being this close to him, she saw how much softer the hue truly was. It was more steel than royal.

To be honest, Tim didn’t think this plan would work this well...or rather his unplanned plan working this well.

He had been wanting to talk to her for nearly a month now...okay its been two...three?

Definitely two.

He first spotted her two months ago, while on an errand for Alfred. Or rather, Demon Spawn.

Damian needed a copy of The Scarlet Letter for one of his classes, but the idiot had forgotten to get a copy so of course, Tim was tasked with retrieving one for him. 

Finding out that other students had also forgotten to get one, Tim wasn’t able to find a copy anywhere, except at this bookshop called Ly, a shop tucked away in an alleyway.

While Tim was suspicious of it, he realized that the reason behind it’s secrecy was due to the aesthetic of the place itself. A two story shop with a rustic feel and window ledges to sit and read the books. Corners were empty, but every now and then, you would see someone sitting there, leaning against their bag with a laptop or book in their hand…

That’s when he saw her.

Her hair rested softly at her shoulders, a pen balanced between her pink lips, brows furrowed as she looked at the laptop in front of her. One moment her bluebell eyes were shrouded in frustration before it lit up so brightly. Like that of a child who laid eyes on a piece of candy. 

She quickly typed away, taking the pen out of her mouth before writing something down on the notepad beside her before going back to work. 

Something about seeing her hyper focused in her work caused something to stir in Tim, something in Tim being captivated by this girl who he had never seen until that day. 

Ever since then, Tim kept coming into the bookstore every two days, in hopes of seeing her again. Of course, he could’ve just easily set cameras to know when she would be there...but something told him that was a bad idea.

On the days she would appear, Tim tried to find a way to get her attention, but would often fail. Sometimes she would be with a friend or only pick up an order before leaving. He would try to stay for as long as he could for an opening, but just when an opportunity arose, Bruce would call in or sometimes Dick, either one needing his urgent help. Reluctantly, he would go.

There were times he tried to approach her, only for her to completely disappear, leaving him with the only option to leave. 

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

Tim vowed to keep trying until he decided to do the most cliche thing in the world to get her  attention: bump into her.

And it actually worked. 

As he watched the girl apologize and fluster over the accident, Tim felt like the wait was worth it.

“Tim.” He cut off, causing the girl to stop.

“I’m sorry...what?”

“Tim. My name is Tim. What’s yours?”

“Ma...Marinette.” She softly said, Tim feeling himself drowning in her voice.

“Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee? My treat.” He quickly added, watching as a smile found its way onto her lips.

“I’d love that.”

[wholesomemendes]

The Final Attempt

College and Hockey Shawn Au

Summary: Shawn’s the star hockey player at your school, while you’re the quiet, bookworm that spends all of her free time at the library. After a shared encounter over a book, you find yourselves drawn to each other in ways you couldn’t imagine. (You can find part 2 here)

Author’s Note: I swear this is better than the summary makes it out to be lol. Thank you guys sm for the love on my first piece and I hope you enjoy this one! Please let me know what you think!

Mi-. Mia-. Mio-. Moa-. Moby-Dick. Your eyes lit up in excitement after finally finding your beloved book in the expansive library of your school. Whispering a quiet yes of victory to yourself in the silent atmosphere, you placed your hand on the spine of the book, already planning out your night of reading and sipping tea in your small dorm room. Giving a slight tug on the book, you furrowed your brows when you felt resistance on the book’s end. Thinking the book was just stuck on a part of the old creaky shelf, you tugged a little harder, growing frustrated when the book wouldn’t budge. A sigh passed your lips as you finally gave up the struggle, releasing the book from your grasp only to find your eyes widening in surprise when it snapped back through the shelf into the hands of someone on the other side. The mysterious stranger stumbled slightly on their feet, looking down at the book in bewilderment before peering through the gap in the shelf that was left in its place. Upon seeing you, he smiled, bright white pearly teeth on full display, “Oh hi.”

“Hi,” you giggled, coming closer to the shelf in order to better see the man in question. It was difficult to make out his entire figure in the small space of the shelf, but you could tell for certain that he had one of the most handsome faces you had ever seen accompanied by a mop of curly brown hair on top of his head.

“I guess you were looking for this too, eh?” he scratched his head nervously after seeing you, suddenly growing bashful at being this close to someone as breathtaking as you. It was unlike him to feel this way around a girl, being the captain of the hockey team did mean he was around beautiful girls a lot. But something about the way your eyes sparkled in this atmosphere and the way you looked so comfortable in this cavern of books made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah I was, do you need it for an assignment?”

“Yep, Mr. Shrouder’s English class,” he let out a light chuckle, eyes trained on the ground before meeting your eyes once again, “But if you need it too then you can have it. I’m sure I can find another copy somewhere.” He carefully maneuvered the book back through the shelf so you could grab it again.

“Oh no, you can keep it!” you told him quickly, shaking your head at his generous actions, “I’ve already read it. I’ll just find another book to read tonight.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, the small crinkles in his forehead making his confused face even more adorable as he retracted the book from the shelf, “You’re telling me...you want to read Moby Dick for fun?”

“Yes I do, “ a chuckle escaped your lips as you leaned your body back slightly onto the bookshelf behind you, crossing your arms comfortably, “Believe or not, but I actually enjoy reading books for pleasure and Moby Dick just happens to be a favorite of mine. I think you’ll like it more than you think you will.”

He laughed at your statement, eyes crinkling as he shook his head lightly, “I highly doubt that. Not much of a reader if I’m honest.” Scratching his neck nervously, he extended his hand towards yours through the small gap of the shelf, “I’m Shawn by the way.”

“Y/n,” you leaned forward, shaking his hand with a wide smile plastered on your face. His hand seemed giant compared to yours, rough but somehow smooth at the same time and you found yourself not wanting to let go when he began to release yours. Your body whined at the loss of contact from the beautiful stranger, and you pushed away your curious thoughts about this man that you had just met. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” he mumbled with a small blush on his cheeks, internally cursing himself for using such a cheesy line on someone like you who seemed to be smart enough to take on the world. He didn’t know why he felt he knew this about you, but the way you held yourself and how your eyes lit up when talking about something as simple as a book told him everything he needed to know. Except he wanted to know more. He wanted to know your favorite color, your favorite line from your favorite movie, what you liked to order from the school’s cafe, all because he was captivated by your spirit from just a few words. The slight buzzing in his pocket snapped him from his thoughts and he hurriedly reached for the source of the noise, “Sorry...I don’t mean to be rude it’s just my phone’s ringing and...” His voice trailed off after seeing his best friend and fellow teammate’s contact on his screen and the time that signaled that he was much later then he was supposed to be. His plan had originally been to quickly grab the book that he needed for class tomorrow and then drive his jeep as fast as he could to get to hockey practice on time. But obviously he had gotten a little sidetracked, meaning his coach was definitely going to give him hell, “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I just realized that I’m really late, I have to go.”

You met his wide, frantic eyes and ushered him out, “Go, go you don’t want to get in even more trouble.”

“Ok,” he breathed out, trying to calm himself down from the wave of thoughts crashing down inside his head, “Thank you again for the book, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” you smiled at him, knowing he needed your reassurance to leave the conversation like the polite boy he made himself out to be, “Now go, you’re really going to be late.”

“Right, right, I’ll see you around. Bye Y/n,” with a light wave, he turned hot on his heels to check out his book before exiting the building towards his parking spot. You waved back, though you knew he couldn’t see you as you stood there replaying the way your name sounded from his mouth, wondering how someone you had just met managed to leave your head whirling. 

__________________________

6 days pass before Shawn finally sees you again. He’s back at the library once again, this time accompanied by some of his friends, when his wandering eyes get caught on the only person in the whole building fully engrossed in a book instead of their laptop. He smiles to himself as he watches your eyes move slowly across the pages of your newest book, eyebrows furrowed in concentration making you look even cuter to him. Before he can change his mind, he mumbles a quick “Be back soon” to his friends, packs up his work, and heads towards the school cafe located next to the library. He approaches the entrance to the library once again, this time with two coffees in his hands. Upon reaching the cafe, he realized that he had no idea what your order was, so he decided on a generic brew of coffee he knew a lot of his friends’ girlfriends liked when he got their orders. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and began to approach the small table you were sitting at towards the back of the library. It was a secluded area, surrounded head to toe in shelves of books, and if it wasn’t for him looking at you at the split second he did, he was positive he wouldn’t have been able to see you. When he got closer to your seat and you failed to notice him, Shawn suddenly began having second thoughts about his whole plan. What kind of creep just comes up to a girl while they’re busy reading and hands them a coffee? She probably doesn’t even like coffee, he scolded himself, What was I thinking? It was too late to back out now though, and he shook the negative thoughts from his head and placed the coffee in front of you on your table, “Hey.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding once you realized who it was, “Oh, hey Shawn, you scared me for a second.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he murmured ,rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as a blush crept up his neck, “I just happened to see you while I was working and thought I’d buy you a coffee as a thank you for letting me have the book the other day.” He lightly pushed the cup towards your body, earning a giggle from you in response, and he swore he wanted to hear that sound on repeat for the rest of his life. “I realized when I got to the cafe that I didn’t know what you like to drink, so I just got this. A lot of my friends’ girlfriends’ like it and I didn’t really know what else to get you, but um...” stuttering his eyes fell to the ground, beating himself up in his head for his seemingly inability to talk to you. He had never had difficulty talking to girls before, but you were different and he knew that from the start.

You smiled kindly at his words, heart swelling at the idea that he was putting so much thought into something as simple as getting you a drink, “Thank you, I really appreciate it, but you know it wasn’t the end of the world that I didn’t get to read Moby Dick again, right?”

A small chuckle left his lips as he finally lifted his eyes to meet yours, “I know, I know, but I still wanted to say thank you. And if you don’t want it that’s ok too! Like if you’re not into coffee or something you don’t have to drink it...”

“Shawn, you’re rambling,” you laughed and his cheeks turned into an even darker shade of pink, “Thank you for this, it was really kind of you. And if you must know I’m much more of a tea kind of girl, but I’d never turn down the chance for a free thank you coffee.” Your smile grew a little larger when you saw him visibly relax at your words and he let out a breathy laugh before running a hand through his beautiful, brown curls. 

“Well, I’m glad you like it. I should, um, probably get back to work, Moby Dick isn’t gonna read itself.”

“You can sit here if you want to, unless you already have a table or something,” you proposed, biting your lip in nervousness. You didn’t know where that had come from, for you were not known to be the most confident around guys. Especially not cute, tall hockey players that bought you coffee. But you had already let Shawn leave once, and you didn’t want to let it happen again without you trying to at least make an effort for him to stay.

“I’d love to,” he told you honestly, “But I told my friends that I was only leaving for a couple minutes and that was almost half an hour ago, so um... I should probably get back to them.” He didn’t want to leave you, hell he would stay here all night with you, but he felt horrible for leaving his friends behind and you could tell that was the truth from the sincerity in his eyes. 

“Yeah of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you from them.”

“Well...” he mumbled, shoving his free hand in his pocket, the other still fiddling with his own drink, “I guess I’ll see you soon then, Y/n.”

“I’m here almost everyday so, I’ll definitely see you around,” you smiled at him, your own hands nervously playing with the pages of your book. 

“Great, I’m looking forward to it,” and with that he gave you another signature wave that you returned before returning to his original table. Your cheeks burned bright red when he left, a soft smile playing on your face as you brought his coffee up to your lips.

__________________________ 

2 days later, you’re seated at your favorite table engrossed in a new book when a coffee cup is placed quietly in front of you as to not disturb your concentration. Too into what you’re reading, you fail to notice until you go to check your phone for the time and are met with the words Attempt #2 of Guessing Your Order: Classic Black Tea scrawled across the cup in black sharpie with Shawn’s signature messy handwriting. You bite your lip to contain your smile and lift your eyes to see him sitting at the table he had previously been with his friends just the other day, sneaking glances at you from over his laptop screen. He sends a bashful smile your way after realizing he’s been caught, which you gladly return, before he points to your cup and lifts both of his hands, one in a thumbs up, the other in a thumbs down. You furrow your brows in confusion before understanding what he was trying to signal to you, Did I guess your order correctly? You send a guilty face his way and slowly shake your head no, earning an exaggerated huff of defeat your way. Mouthing a thank you his way, you both give each other one last smile before returning to your work, but you’re definitely less concentrated then before.

You find yourself peering over the pages of your book multiple times, watching as Shawn typed away, sometimes sticking his tongue out in concentration which you found absolutely adorable. Little did you know, he was still sneaking glances at you too, and when your eyes met once again, you looked away bashfully and refrained from embarrassing yourself anymore. Shawn chuckled to himself from across the way, loving the cute blush on your face when you looked away. As much as he wanted to approach you, he could tell you were just as nervous as him when he was around and he had no desire to make you uncomfortable. So he resorted to staring at you from afar, loving the way you made his heart flutter from the simplest movements.

Night fell over the library and Shawn had slowly become more focused on his work, determined to finish his assignment before heading back to his dorm. The sound of an empty cup being placed on his table broke his concentration for  a moment as he watched you give him the smallest of waves and head out of the library doors. He became so entranced in just watching you leave the building that he didn’t even think to look at the cup until you had fully exited and his thoughts became slightly less consumed by you. Examining the cup, his heart began to race as he carefully traced over your message, I’ll never pass up black tea, but I prefer something a little sweeter;)

__________________________

Shawn had never been one to spend his free time in the library, but it’s been a little over a month since he first met you and he had found himself coming there at least every other day in hopes of seeing you hunched over another book at your favorite table. He couldn’t decide whether or not being at the library made him more productive or if all the time he spent watching you from a distance cut down on how much work he was truly getting done. Tea after tea was given to you, always with a sweet message on the side that made your heart burst, and you never failed to write one back before either of you left. Hardly any words were spoken between the two of you since the day the first coffee was given besides a little small talk here and there, but the stolen glances and small gestures from afar were enough for the two of you. 

However, with the opening hockey game approaching, Shawn had found it difficult to find time to spend in the library between practices, but he had made it his priority to drop his newest attempt at your order off at your table just to see the way your eyes lit up, even if it meant he had to leave right away. You couldn’t lie and say that your heart didn’t drop a little when you saw him heading towards the door instead of his table, though you knew he had priorities as the college’s star hockey player. You hadn’t planned on going to the opening game, but the idea of seeing him playing in his uniform on the ice, making it look almost effortless, seemed like too good of an offer to pass up. Your heart hated how addicted you were to the boy you’d hardly spoken to, though you couldn’t help but feel like you knew him just by the way you interacted wordlessly. This didn’t help your opening day decision, not even knowing if he would want you there or if he was even thinking about you like you were him. Would he want you there, cheering his name alongside hundreds of other beautiful girls? Would he even notice you or try to find you within the crowd? And if he did see you, would he even care that you came or would he look right past you at the blonde sorority girl a few rows down?

Your answer came on the day of the game in the form of a cup of tea, placed perfectly in front of you by a hand adorned with a swallow tattoo. Except this time, the hand didn’t leave the cup as quickly as usual and Shawn pulled out the seat across from you with a smug look on his face, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied, looking at him curiously as he sat down, both elbows on the table with his hands propping up his head. 

The smug smile never left his face as he nodded his head towards the cup confidently, “Go on try it.”

“You seem very confident that this is the one,” you remarked, a smirk tugging on your lips as well, “Are you sure you’ve got it this time?” This earned you a scoff in reply and he leaned back in the seat, crossing his arms as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Just try it, I’ve got it this time.”

You sipped the drink cautiously, waiting for the sweet taste to hit your tongue, while Shawn stared at you expectedly. You quirked an eyebrow when you recognized the taste immediately and he sat up in his seat excitedly, “Soooo?”

“Well, I mean it’s good....” you teased him, watching his confident face falter for a moment, “because you got it 100% correct.”

Shawn exploded from his seat in victory, pumping his fists in the air while little whispers of yes! came tumbling out of his mouth. You giggled at the 6 ft. 2 man-child in front of you as he finally settled down enough to stand still and lean his hands on the table. “Well on that note, that’s one win for today and I’ve got to go get another tonight,” he winked at you, loving the way he made your cheeks flush, “But I really do need to go before coach wrings my neck.”

You smile back at him, lightly biting your lip as your eyes look at your nervous hands on your cup before meeting his bright, brown eyes, “Then you better get going, don’t want the star hockey captain out on opening day.” It was his turn to blush now at your compliment and he tapped a quick rhythm before standing up straight and walking backwards towards the door. 

“I’ll see you later, hopefully,” he said, pointing his finger at you to hold you accountable, “Don’t forget to check for your daily message.”

“I won’t,” you promised as you turned the tea around in your hands, “Good luck tonight, Shawn.”

“Thanks honey,” and with that he was out of your sight, leaving you with stinging red cheeks and a message in your hands. 

Final Attempt: A hot hibiscus tea with one scoop of sugar. Hope to see you at the game tonight, text me your seat if you come so I can find you;) xxx-xxx-xxxx <3 Shawn 

__________________________

That night as Shawn skated on the ice into a crowd full of screaming fans, he couldn’t help but try to find you in the crowd, his heart rate only settling when he found you right where you told him you’d be, his favorite smile on your lips as you screamed his name. The game ended with him scoring the winning goal in the last 6 seconds as his teammates crowded around him, but the only thing he cared about was the proud expression on your face while you gave him two thumbs up in congratulations. You didn’t rush to leave the rink right away, waiting it out a little bit and taking in the moment a while longer. It was unlike you to attend the sporting events at your school, but you had attended enough to get a feel of the atmosphere and you didn’t know if it was the pure excitement from the crowd over the opening game or the fact that your heart beat rapidly every time you saw Shawn glance your way on the ice that made this game feel that more special. 

Just as you were finally heading out for the night, you heard an out of breath voice calling out to you, “Y/n! Y/n wait!” causing you to turn around and be met at the sight of Shawn in all of his glory, hair still wet from his post game shower and school apparel sweats on his body. He dropped his bag full of gear and sprinted towards you, picking you up and spinning you around with all of his pent up victory energy, laughing as you let out a surprised squeal at his actions. Shawn put you back on your feet carefully before cupping your face in his hands and innocently placing his lips on yours. You stood there frozen in shock until you came to your senses and slowly began to move your lips in unison with his. Unwillingly, Shawn broke away and placed his forehead on yours, hands still gently holding your face, as he flashed you his million dollar smile with bright eyes staring into your own, “You came.”

“Of course I came,” you whispered back, afraid of ruining the perfect moment with any sound, cursing your heart for beating so loud in your ears. And as you placed your lips back on his ever so gently, Shawn knew that tonight, he had won in more ways than one. 

[lilhawkeye3]

I posted 7,886 times in 2021

2055 posts created (26%)

5831 posts reblogged (74%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.8 posts.

I added 2,741 tags in 2021

#asks and answers - 597 posts

#star wars - 577 posts

#the clone wars - 300 posts

#hawk’s art - 251 posts

#fanfiction - 186 posts

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#game of thrones - 179 posts

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Longest Tag: 141 characters

#but then you threaten them with a knife or gun or something bc u been swimming nekked and ardeth is like 🤩😍 yes angry princess after my own

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The thrilling saga

1096 notes • Posted 2021-01-28 20:25:46 GMT

#4

I’m curious! What were your favorite and least favorite books you had to read for English/Literature class in high school?

My favorite was 1984 by George Orwell and my least favorite was Moby Dick by he-who-shall-not-be-named (Melville, it’s Melville).

2751 notes • Posted 2021-04-06 16:13:57 GMT

#3

...but why is everyone surprised that the Royal family is this racist? Like. They’re British nobility and fought to keep colonies on basically every continent. They’re peak “sophisticated” white supremacy.

Anyways good for Meghan Markle getting her family the hell outta there.

5888 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 03:21:20 GMT

#2

10071 notes • Posted 2021-04-23 14:03:40 GMT

#1

Art advice 👀🎨

22921 notes • Posted 2021-06-09 03:45:02 GMT

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