#this is like the friend equivalent of finding your teacher out in public and then you realise they don’t just like…live at school lol

[sneakypunmaster]

Wait, what happened?

Just finding friends from far far away lands :3

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Hi! This is kind of random but I've been googling around and haven't been able to figure it out.... Do you know what level of education Ringo had? I know John had some college, and I *believe* George and Paul would have had something below or equal to a high school equivalency, but I can't find any solid info on Ringo. Thanks!

Hi anon!

So, I consulted my copy of Tune In for this and here's a basic rundown. For more details I'd recommend you check the book itself – it's very well indexed and there are epubs knocking about + a version on the archive.

Ringo was sick for more than an entire year around the age of 7-8 due to a terrible case of appendicitis, which resulted in life-threatening infections that put him into a coma for weeks and kept him bed-ridden for months. This meant he fell extremely behind in school, missing out on learning how to read and write. He ended up picking up those skills because a family friend helped tutor him but he couldn't fully catch up. He ended up in a secondary school class, which basically deemed him and his classmates hopeless for anything but manual labor and ended up quitting school at 15, the moment he was no longer required to. He'd also missed two years of school again due to tuberculosis.

After this, he began collecting unemployment benefits in between doing several smaller jobs like working on ships and in the railways, before beginning an apprenticeship at a factory to become an equipment manufacturer.

Also, I didn't recheck this, but IIRC George didn't directly have a high school equivalent* because I think he dropped out before finishing classes at the Institute (I actually can't recall if George sat his O-Levels, but I'm relatively confident he didn't do any A-Levels like Paul did. In any case I think he started doing an apprenticeship as an electrician when he was about 15.)

*Based on your wording I'm guessing you're American, but my understanding (and Brits with more knowledge than me are welcome to interject) is O-Levels/GCEs are akin to mandatory final exams for all British students, whereas A-Levels are the continued secondary education you do to get into universities. In general, I think the US public education system does not make the distinction between "finished mandatory school" and "university-eligible". Although, one might note that John did not in fact pass his O-Levels (or do A-Levels for that matter) but was recommended for the Liverpool College of Art, which I imagine had its own admission system, by his teachers who wanted to make sure he had prospects (off-topic always fascinated by how much faith in his person John seemed to command). I also think Paul did take university/college classes, but did not end up doing any of his first year exams.

EDIT: sorry I think I mixed stuff up. It seems like Paul would have gotten into teaching college but ended up going to Hamburg instead.

[tiriansjewel]

Another day in the jatp fandom, another controversy. As a preface, this post is really just going to be me saying: everyone needs to fucking relax. I’m tired of people calling other people out using weighty terms for no reason, I’m tired of people harassing others over something as trivial as an actor’s view on social issues, and I’m just tired of people not staying in their own circles. That’s basically a TL;DR for you all.

So, about this blocklist. Let’s get into it, shall we?

First, my main issue with this list (and I think a lot of other people’s) is use of the words “pedophilic tendencies”. I cannot understate how harmful it is to draw a false equivalence between real, actual pedophiles and smut writers on the internet. We must remember: these are fictional characters who happen to be teenagers, not real children who can be victimized. Calling adult smut writers pedophilic trivializes actual pedophilia, child porn, and CSA. When terms are watered down like this, the term begins to lose meaning. It is okay if smut written by adults about teenagers makes you uncomfortable, but it does not make the authors themselves pedophiles. Not even close.

Second, minors write smut just like adults do. The weirdest thing about this post is the fact that other minors were knowingly included on the blocklist (ie, “most writers are adults” according to the post) which suggests that the issue is with smut itself and not with who’s writing it. As I’ve said before, it is perfectly okay if you want to avoid nsfw content (which is why we have tags, by the way), but making a blocklist based solely on explicit content where you use the word pedophilia is really “not the move”, so to speak. Here’s the thing. I’m seventeen years old, which makes me a minor. I’ve written smut for this fandom, I am writing smut currently, and I will continue to write it. To suggest that smut in and of itself is bad is strange to me. Guess what? People have sex. Teenagers have sex. It’s a part of life, and it will be included in stories about people’s lives. And in comparison to other forms of explicit content like pornography, smut is a great way for young teens who are growing into their bodies to explore and learn about sex and sexuality outside of reality in a safe, contained space.

Third, there is a very big difference between adults writing about teenagers who happen to be having sex and adults sexualizing kids through writing. I’ve been around the block a few times in explicit tags, and at least I find I can always tell the difference between these two types of content. I’d also like to say that these adults (many of whom are still in their 20s, btw) were teenagers once and grew into their sexuality just like everyone else; it’s not like they’ve been separated from the experience! As a smut writer myself, rarely do I find myself personally thinking “this is hot”. I’m writing from the perspective of a character who thinks it’s hot! There is nuance and character development and thought to writing smut, yes, even pwp fics. In this section I would also like to address the fact that several of the people on this list are my friends and mutuals in this fandom. They are all lovely people who have their own reasons for writing what they write and their reason is never “ah yes I feel like sexualizing children today”. It is very shitty to make assumptions about people you don’t know and say they have pedophilic tendencies. That’s a weighty and unfounded accusation. And no, as a minor, I have never felt uncomfortable around any of them.

Fourth, many of these writers have written wonderful non-explicit fics as well! It’s a shame to write these authors off entirely because they’ve written smut. You don’t like sex scenes? Great! Exclude E and M ratings when you browse ao3. Also, some of these adult authors write fic where they age the characters up, probably because it’s closer to their own experience and it makes them more comfortable. They are literally doing exactly what you want them to do by not creating content about minors having sex. Also, I’d like to point out that Charlie is 22, Owen is 20, and Jeremy is 24, and the majority of smut is about the boys. I don’t think I should have to explain why it’s okay for other 20 somethings to view them in a sexual context, even if their characters are 17. Regardless, many of the perceived issues with these writers as people and also with their work simply do not exist.

Fifth, the number one rule of fanfiction is don’t like, don’t read. I myself have seen several nsfw fics in the jatp tag that I have cringed at and chosen not to read because of their tags, summaries, pairings, etc. And that’s okay! But never have I sent hate to these authors, called them pedos, or made large callout posts about them. I simply ignore or block the content and go on about my day. I’m not about to “yuck someone’s yum”, as it were, and I’m not going to be the moral police and tell people some type of content is wrong in all circumstances, even if I find it personally disgusting or ethically questionable. People are always going to write whatever they feel compelled to write, and the great thing about the internet is that we all have the space to express ourselves differently. As others have said, fandom is big enough for everyone. Here’s a nice little example. I’ve been in the Narnia fandom for years now. The four main characters are siblings, so there’s a lot of incest fic. I personally dislike incest fic and think it’s morally questionable, and so do many of my mutuals. We have conversations in private spaces where we tell one another who to block to avoid seeing that content, and every time I go in the ao3 tag I filter out those pairings. But never have we made public lists calling out people we didn’t know, and never have we sent derisive comments their way. Everyone must learn to keep to their own circles and curate their own feeds for fandom to be a positive experience. Everyone must learn to listen to other people and accept that everything has nuance. Everyone must be learn to be kind. As my choir teacher says, “there is never an excuse for being rude”. And when controversy must happen, let’s all be respectful, mature, and level headed in our discourse with one another.

In conclusion, this fandom has an issue with telling people what they can and cannot do or create, and that’s wrong. Fandom is supposed to be a free, positive environment. It is our duty to keep it that way. Thank you for your time.

[twst-campos13]

Could you do a Dire Crowley x Male teacher reader scenario nfsw please? I’m just in the mood now..

I dont take nsfw scenarios, only headcanons!! I’m sorry!! That’s probably my fault because I haven’t fixed the link for the rules ヾ(￣0￣;ﾉ I made this as a (kind of) general nsfw hcs but your relationship with Crowley is more of a fwb type!!

I hope this satisfies you still  ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀

Warnings: NSFW UNDERCUT!! MINORS DNI Tags: semi-public, light restraints (mention), mild degradation, praise kink, male!reader

"...now, don't forget to turn in your essays on Thursday next week. Take note: it is a two-page, essay!"

You sighed at how eager your students left the classroom, knowing well that they couldn't wait for you to dismiss them anyway. Not that you mind. You're well aware that your students are tired for the day so you rewarded them with an early dismissal.

"No pushing and running out the door now! Show some respect for your subject teacher. Goodness!"

Ah, yes, the early dismissal was for another thing, too.

The Headmaster dropped by (literally) to provide "extra motivation" for students after classes. It was rather thoughtful of him to do so...if you weren't well aware of his other endeavors to have him flock to you after classes.

"What a kind sir you are, rewarding your students greatly!" Headmaster Crowley chuckled almost akin to a crow. You stacked your teaching books neatly to one side before turning around to meet the headmaster. Both of you nearly bumped noses with each other. Well, in this case, you nearly poked yourself in the eye with the beak of his mask. You smiled when Crowley composed himself but did not set a distance.

"And I suppose you would want a reward too?"

The sudden stiffness of his posture is enough of an answer.

You tilt your head at him, a smile that only Crowley can decipher. "Alright. Who am I to deny my gracious headmaster?"

➸ To make things clear between the both of you: you're more than friends but less than lovers. The students don't really know if you guys are dating or not. The juniors try to make it their business but failed to get any straight answers.

➸ The Headmaster is a switch, definitely, but leaning more towards being a power bottom. It's in his entire vibe. He may exude mysterious daddy vibes that can bend you over his office table and pound your ass but think about it--only bottoms TALK SO DAMN MUCH-

➸ Look me in the eyes and tell me this man doesn't release bratty power bottom energy.

➸ He's got a mix of praise and degrading kink. With praise, he is willing to give it as he likes receiving it. You can see imaginary feathers ruffle up when he drinks in your honey praises. He loves it when you tell him what a good boy he is while you're stroking his hair. At the same time, he loves being called a rotten, perverted man as you tightly grip his hair.

➸ You actually didn't think he would have a degrading kink. You thought he'd be so into that but you observed with your sessions together that he deserves more praises than insults. You tried to balance the two but you realized that degrading him when he starts getting bratty then easing into praises is a better way to make him more pliable.

➸ Though, when Crowley praises you, he really sings them. He becomes a bumbling fool when he's under you, taking your cock (or his cock when you wanna ride him) eagerly and stammering praises of how good you feel and how amazing you are. He can make you blush by the eloquence of his compliments.

➸ Having sex naked is for rare and more intimate moments. Most of the time (and Crowley wordlessly insists) you both get frisky with only half your clothes off. You already know why ;)

➸ "There's something sexy about neckties, yknow? So sharp and elegant." | "Dire, if you have any particular interest in light bondage you can tell me."

➸ He's not wrong is he? Impromptu and light bondage is his preference. Even though he wants it to be done to him mostly, he'd still ask you if you're fine with a bit of restraints! If you are then get ready for a lot of flirting that involves tie pulling and tie bondage LMAO

➸ Another kink of his: he likes to gift you pieces of jewelry that you graciously wear yourself. He doesn't want you to take them off especially when you fuck.

➸ Fucking....crows.....

➸ He's a raven actually but-

➸ HE ALSO MAKES USE OF YOUR TITLE AS A TEACHER. HE CALLS YOU SIR. In every!! way!! he gets to!! You know he's a brat needing your attention when his sir sounds a little more than professional.

➸ You wonder where this man's decency is because he always wants to do it with you after classes or at his office. You indulge him anyways; grinding your arousal with each other, an intense and heated make-out session against the desk, until you pull away and tell him that you both should take it elsewhere lest your students walk in with. They do not need to be traumatized.

➸ Quickies and semi-public sex with Crowley hit differently when you two take it to bed, though. When you're out doing frivolous activities at school like two rowdy teenagers, there's this almost rebellious atmosphere, the thrill of doing the act. However, in private that atmosphere completely shifts and you'd find yourself wondering if there's any meaning to your intimate dance

➸ And when aftercare happens that warm feeling just grows. He always insists on taking care of you after sex. He does the equivalent of preening (from what you noticed) which is stroking your head and nuzzling your neck. He cleans you up from your neck down to your feet then bundles you in blankets. This level of comfort doesn't happen when you fuck at school but he makes it up by fixing your uniform and buying you food.

➸ You scold him when he takes too long cleaning around your dick though.

➸ Could you be more than friends that are not less than lovers? That's a conversation for both of you to tackle next time.  

[breakyeol]

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

[samnyangie]

Since people liked rsl interview on dps, I’d like to share one of my favourite interview by him. I think it’s one of those rare interview where he wasn’t joking around that much but discuss acting quite seriously haha

So enjoy:DD

(Credit)

____________________________

1990 New York Times

Young Actor's Life Has the Makings of a Movie

by Lynn Mautner

New York Times

May 20, 1990

It would make a good movie. A 15-year-old sophomore at Ridgewood High School is playing the Artful Dodger in the musical ''Oliver'' with the school's theater group, New Players, when he is discovered by a casting agency secretary and whisked off to Broadway and the movies.

That's exactly what happened to Robert Sean Leonard, now 21, and a star of the 1989 film ''Dead Poets Society,'' which received an Oscar for best original screenplay.

''My mother took me to New Players' summer performances when I was 10,'' he said, ''and I loved the camaraderie of people, rehearsing and singing. I began spending more time there, painting signs and moving furniture, and soon became an element of the company, with small roles in 'The Miracle Worker,' 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,' 'Barnum.' ''

Starting as an understudy for three roles at the New York Public Theater (he never got on stage), Mr. Leonard amassed credits that include ''The Beach House'' with George Grizzard for the Circle Repertory Theater, television movies, ''Brighton Beach Memoirs'' and ''Breaking the Code'' on Broadway, plays at the West Bank Cafe on 42d Street and the recent ''When She Danced'' at Playwrights Horizons.

He has just completed a part as Paul Newman's and Joanne Woodward's son in the movie ''Mr. and Mrs. Bridge,'' filmed in Kansas City, to be released in August. ''I age from a 15-year-old Eagle Scout to 22, coming home from World War II with a mustache,'' Mr. Leonard said.

Mr. Leonard, who received a general equivalency diploma when he was 17, lives in New York City and attends Fordham University between performances. Soon to return from the Cannes Film Festival with his fellow actors in ''Dead Poets,'' he is next scheduled to go into rehearsal for the film ''Married to It,'' a romantic comedy.

Q. Do you remember when you decided on an acting career?

A. I never decided to pursue an acting career. It just has happened. I still think it's going to stop and I'll have to get a real job soon, but I'm afraid to question it because if I do, it will disappear.

Q. How do you think your theater experience in high school has helped you?

A. It was a great teaching experience that prepared me in a lot of ways. We did 10 shows in 10 weeks, so there was no time to think about method. It was running for the stage, hoping you'll make it in time for your entrance. In Steven Soderbergh's new book of his diaries when directing the film ''Sex, Lies and Videotape,'' he said that on a film set there should always be a chain of command, but never a chain of respect.

At New Players, those three to four years, everyone was given the same respect. You had to, because you'd be the lead one week and painting sets the next. That's a luxury that is not available in New York, unfortunately, because of the unions. You're an actor and that's it.

Q. Have you taken any acting lessons? Do you recommend them for others?

A. I've taken two classes - a video acting class to help me get from stage to film, with Marty Winkler, currently my manager, and an acting class at H. B. Studios.

Acting classes are tricky. It's like asking someone in therapy if they'd recommend going to a psychiatrist. For some people it's great; for some it's not necessary; for some it's harmful. The best way to learn acting is just to do it.

There's a danger to the classroom, because it's safe, and you can get addicted to it. The clique of people are there, and you might tend to remain with them and never go out on your own. So it can give you the safety net which can eventually strip away your courage to go out and really try. On the other hand, you can get a wonderful teacher who brings out the best in you and gives you the courage to go out and dazzle everybody.

Q. You went from high school to Off Broadway. What were your feelings and fears during your first professional performance?

A. The first time I performed in New York - in ''Sally's Gone, She Left Her Name'' - I played Michael Learned's son. I think I was too young. I wasn't even aware of reasons to be afraid. I was just there for the fun of it. Fresh out of New Players, I knew it to be fun. I've never worried about lines. In ''Brighton Beach'' I should have been tense, because it was Broadway. I was nervous, but not racked - more excited.

Q. What do you enjoy most about acting?

A. The people, and opportunities to learn, to travel, both physically and emotionally. To look at people other than myself and try to figure out what makes them tick.

Olivier said you never play a villain; you play a man considered to be a villain; that you have to justify everything he does first; you have to know that what you are doing is right and find a way to make it right - even murder.

I just played a conceited piano player in ''When She Danced,'' and I had to figure out what would make a person be conceited and make that O.K. with me. I learned where conceit comes from - from confidence and talent.

Worst thing you can do is play someone and judge him at the same time, saying: ''Here I am. I am so conceited.'' First you have to understand why you're that way so that people interpret you as conceited.

Q. Do you consider acting an escape?

A. I don't look at performing as escaping, as really becoming another person and leaving my problems for two hours, so I don't have to deal with me, because I don't become another person. I work, so that when I am working, in a way it is me at my best. I'm not leaving myself; in fact, I'm more focused on myself than ever. I don't become that person, but I fully understand him, fully explore him, as to why he does what he does and justify it.

You can't play a fool to play Bottom, who's the opposite of fool in Shakespeare's ''Midsummer Night's Dream.'' What makes people fools is that they're completely confident in what they're doing. They don't think they're fools; they think they're right on track, which makes them so funny and makes them look like fools.

Q. Who influenced you the most?

A. I have not had one person or experience that stands out that's a turning point. Every step in acting relies heavily on the one before. Everything I've learned colors everything I have known before, and suddenly changes it.

I have learned a little bit from everyone I have known, whether about acting itself, or living and working as an actor. Like a good detective novel, for every clue that is solved, two more appear. Every time I learn something, it opens two other doors. In ''Dead Poets,'' the rooftop scene, where I throw the desk set off, was improvised. Are instincts then a part of acting?

Q. Are there desirable qualities to have as an actor?

A. Concentration, perseverence, lack of inhibitions. There's no room for self-consciousness on stage. Also, there is an element in acting that is not fair. Whatever talent is, part of it can be learned and part can't. There are people that audiences like to watch or don't. In Soderbergh's book, he says that talent plus perseverance will equal luck. But I don't know what talent is; it is beyond definition.

Q. Do you learn by watching other films and plays? Your own? Other people?

A. Sometimes I watch for directing; sometimes for performing. There are lines in ''Dead Poets'' I would do differently, if given the chance. For example, Todd said: ''You talk and people listen to you, Neil. I am not like that.'' I answer, ''Don't you think you could be?'' I think I could have made it clearer. I don't get much from observing strangers, because although I see what they do, I don't know where they're coming from.

Q. What are the main differences between stage and film work?

A. I feel that as an actor, you should start in theater, to learn the process of creating a character, in rehearsal. Film is an arena for people who already know that, because on the set they expect you to know the character inside out.

Film work is harder, because this tangible part has to happen in your head before filming takes place. And it's more solitary. You create your character alone, without the give-and-take of other actors.

Q. What tips would you give young, aspiring actors?

A. Read plays aloud with friends at home; do any work you can do in high school. Hang out with jocks, leatherheads, and see what makes them work. Don't be a theater rat and only talk to actors. Read a lot. You really have to feel it; really want it; then take it. Don't take no for an answer. Seize the day.

___________________________

There’s another one I really want to share as well, I’ll bring it with me at some point:))

[vinceaddams]

obvs feel free to keep this private, but I got recommended the UFH channel by a friend of mine, haven't gotten around to watching anything from it. I trust your judgement on the content, but my friend considers it her main resource 🙃 of course, since you only watched a few videos you might not be able to answer this, but was there any specific really bad/unacademic approaches I should keep my eye out for that my friend might have adopted? we work on a historical festival together so im concern

(I was going to answer this privately but then it got really long and turned into a post I want to post.)

Oh dear! Well, It appears that the lady behind that channel only cares about the 20th century, so maaybe she’s got good stuff on the 20th century at least? I don’t know, but the 2 videos that I saw were so incredibly awful that I’m highly suspicious of all her stuff. 

The first bad thing about her channel is that her videos all have a one or two sentence caption and nothing else. (I clicked on a few more just to check) No sources listed, no links of any kind except to her merch store. I don’t recall her mentioning any particular sources for any of the things she said in the videos either, she just declared them very matter of factly. 

Good historians cite sources! Bernadette Banners’ video on the history of PPE has so many source links she ran out of room in the description box and had to put the rest of them on a page on her website.  (Oh poo, now I feel a bit bad because I love Karolina Zebrowska but she really needs to do better with leaving source links. But she does talk about doing research, talk in a more nuanced way, and doesn’t present herself as an expert or academic, unlike the UFH lady.)

Good historians also embrace nuance, and aren’t afraid to say “I don’t know” or “I was wrong”. Presenting things in a “this person did this one big thing, and then this happened, and that caused this” kind of way isn’t good because history is more like “all these things happened and as far as we can tell it appears to have influenced this, which was also connected to this other stuff that we don’t know all that much about”. History is foggy and complicated, no matter how much the general public wants it to be simple.

Her description of herself also seems a bit... misleading? In her about page on youtube it says “Amanda Hallay, a college professor specializing in fashion, costume, and cultural history.” but if you look at the CV linked on her website the only degrees she has are in creative writing and art history. I’m not saying a person can’t be really knowledgable about something without a degree, but her whole online presence is about being a “professor” who teaches this stuff so I find it weird.

And if the 1850′s-60s video is anything to go by, she presents things in a shockingly unprofessional way. She starts off by saying she thinks these fashions are ugly and ridiculous and that she has some “theories of her own” on them. @marzipanandminutiae has a post with a lot more about what was wrong with that video, and a few others I haven’t seen. She claims that hoop skirts were oppressive cages when in reality they were a liberating garment that allowed women to achieve full skirts without the heavy layered petticoats they wore previously. 

She posts a photo of a naked lady and says “Now lets start with a beautiful naked lady and cover her up with ugly and unflattering clothes. Now this sexy naked lady isn’t so sexy” I wish I was making this up but that’s almost word for word what she said. Along with a whole lot of untrue or exaggerated stuff about Victorian modesty. She says dresses with layered flounces were called “pagoda dresses”, which isn’t a term that anyone has ever used for those dresses. She says this is cut down from a longer video she uses for teaching class, and I find the thought of this being presented in a classroom quite appalling.

After spending about 95% of the video talking about womens fashion in an extremely condescending and disdainful tone of voice, she posts what appear to be the 5 biggest and most extreme examples of 19th century moustaches she could find, presenting them as if they were what every man looked like.

This part really grinds my gears, because she says “I haven’t said anything about menswear because there’s really not much to say.” She posts photos of suits from 5 different decades and says they’re basically all the same, and also basically the same as a modern suit. Excuse you, there is A LOT of difference between menswear of the 1850′s and the 1890′s. Yes the changes over the decades are more subtle, and the colours are often more subdued than in centuries past, but it is absolutely not (as she claims) “the century when men stopped doing fashion”.   I personally am not hugely interested in 19th century mens fashion, and can tentatively date things in the first few decades but after the middle of the century I can’t. But people who are interested and who study that era can tell the decades apart. Because they’re different. And there is SO MUCH to talk about! Suits for different levels of formality, accessories, waistcoats, sportswear, sleepwear, knitwear, swimsuits, loungewear, underwear, etc. are all extremely different from their modern equivalents. 

It’s perfectly fine to only study womens fashion if that’s what you’re interested in, but it is not okay to then declare that the history of mens fashion is worthless and nonexistent. Simply not being interested in a thing is no excuse for publicly shitting all over it. (I’ve seen people do this more than once. We already have so few men who do historical fashion stuff! Stop putting off newcomers who might be interested!!)

The fact that her online presence is so closed off is also highly unusual. Comments are turned off for her videos, and the only social media link she has is to a private facebook group. (There is also a link to a fb page, but it appears to have been deleted.) Turning off comments is of course the personal choice of the one posting the videos, but the fashion history side of youtube usually tends towards pretty decent comment threads, and people often have nice little discussions and learn stuff in them. Here it looks like she doesn’t want discussion, doesn’t want to be contradicted or asked for sources, doesn’t want to learn new things.

I had never even heard of this channel until I saw @marzipanandminutiae mention it, nor have I ever heard any of the many historical costumers/youtubers I follow mention it, yet somehow it has 55k followers? I don’t know the demographics that watch it (especially not with the comments turned off!) but I’d wager that videos like the 1850′s-60′s one I suffered through are mainly watched by people who like hearing things trash talked, rather than people who actually want to learn about fashion history. The same sort of people who loved that Beau Brummell twitter thread, which was also full of lies and unsourced garbage. People like to believe the past was way worse and grosser than it was because it makes them feel like we’re smarter and better now.

Lastly, the whole premise of the channel is just bad. Calling any one thing “The Ultimate Fashion History” is a bad idea. Her channel trailer says “Youtube’s number one channel for original fashion history content” “we’ve got it all, fifty thousand years of fashion history”. You can’t have one channel that’s the ultimate resource for ALL of fashion history! It’s a huge, HUGE subject, and even if she did do actual good research she’d barely be able to scratch the surface of fifty thousand years. That’s like saying one channel is the ultimate source for all of science, or all of music, or all of cooking. No one thing can come close to covering all of it. I will deign to admit that she’s at least right to call it “original”, because she has some very original lies I haven’t found anywhere else. 

Most people who study fashion history/historical sewing have one or several eras they like best and find most interesting, perhaps with occasional jaunts into other eras. This way we can focus and get a much better understanding of the eras that we find most interesting, rather than just a vague notion of everything. 

For example: I’m most interested in 18th century menswear, and so far have mainly researched and sewn 1785-95 stuff, and more recently some 1730′s. I usually focus on fashionable civilian clothing, so I don’t know as much about working class clothes, and next to nothing about military and other occupational dress. Even with this narrow area of interest, which I’ve been obsessed with for many years, I still have so much to learn! I could never make anything claiming to be the ultimate source for 18th century menswear, because I’m just one person focusing on some aspects, and there are other people out there who research other aspects of it and their work is just as important. It’s all so big and so much, even if you narrow it down to one era.

Amanda Hallay is basically holding up a bucket of saltwater and calling it the ocean.

I haven’t watched any of her 20th century videos, so maybe they’re better than the older ones I watched. I don’t know. (But even if they’re actually good they still don’t have source links.) Edit: okay, nope, turns out they’re just as bad! They appear to make up the vast majority of her videos, so if she’s most interested in the 20th century then maybe she should just... make her channel more clearly 20th century focused instead of trying to paint it as a channel for all eras?

TL;DR, the main bad things about that channel are:

Lying and making ridiculous claims, not citing ANY sources. Spouting easily debunked myths.

Stating things matter of factly without any nuance, even though history is foggy and complicated.

Being extremely judgemental about historical fashions and talking about how much she hates them and thinks they’re ugly, which really isn’t appropriate for a fashion history teacher. You can hear the disgust in her voice and it’s awful and I hate it.

Comments turned off on all her videos, leaving no way to communicate or have public discussions. Unknowing viewers are left to accept her statements as fact without any outside opinions.

Claiming one channel is the ultimate channel for an incalculably enormous subject. Says it covers 50,000 years of fashion history when it’s mostly just the 20th century.

I would like to add that I am not what I would consider an expert either, and have no formal education in fashion history beyond the one college class that was part of my 2 year sewing course. I have learned mainly from books and the internet, and as I said earlier I still have a huge amount to learn. I’m sure a more knowledgable historian could put things better than I have. 

But I’m confident in stating that primary sources are needed to back up a claim! Sometimes even widely accepted beliefs turn out to be entirely unfounded myths, like that one about doctors using vibrators to treat “hysteria”. Total nonsense someone made up in 1999.

Wow this post got way longer than intended. Anyways, yes, I do not like condescending slideshow lady.

[good-rwbyaus]

How does Yang react to the rumors her lil sis has become a professor

Perspective :: Yang // Becoming - mod lilac [ main chapter ] [ P: Weiss ]

logo-comics asked: What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

// this perspective piece was harder to write than I thought. also trollpin - lilac

---

“I’ll be sure to set aside an office for you, Professor,” the Headmaster spoke with mirth as he and Ruby spoke at Beacon’s courtyard, watching the students arrive for orientation. 

“Stop calling me that! I just wanted to know if students could have their own private rooms!” Ruby stomped on the ground.

“Students, no. Professors, well...” 

“Argggh!” 

Yang was treated to the sight of her normally shy, bubbly sister hopping up and down angrily, pointing impolitely at the man that’ll soon be their Headmaster. Ruby’s uncharacteristic actions shocked her brain so thoroughly that she needed a moment to reboot.   

“Wait! Yang?!” Ruby exclaimed upon spotting her.

“Hey, Ruby.” Yang replied dazedly before internally wincing at her unenthusiastic-sounding response - too shocked from her sister’s prior actions. 

Luckily though, Ruby didn’t notice anything and was in fact enthusiastic enough for the both of them. Her sister’s eyes lighting up was the only warning she got before she felt Ruby pounce onto her, the other girl wrapping her in a tight hug. 

“You made it!” Ruby happily said, “I missed you!” 

Yang couldn’t help but hug her back smiling, not quite sure what’s made the other girl so affectionate, especially in such a public showy way. 

“I missed you too, sis,” she replied warmly, patting her head. Come to think of it these two months have been the longest they’ve been apart in years. Even when she took mini-missions at Signal to prepare for Beacon, the longest interval was 48 hours. Curious at her sister’s sudden change, she asked, “Yeesh, what happened to you over the past two months?"

"Eh, you know. Landed a blow on my teacher. Got myself blown up a couple times,” Ruby started counting on her fingers, “Got dangled out of a tower. Accidentally made a mess of things when I fought in a real team for the first time. Uhhh, not exactly in that order. “ Ruby scrunched up her face, which made her laugh.

“Sounds like you’ve been having fun,” Yang replied with a grin, though she gave the girl a quick onceover to make she’s truly alright - which it looked like she was.

“Yup. At least when they’re not sticking me in a classroom or hanging out with this old troll here,” Ruby resentfully gave the Headmaster a glare.

Yang choked on her spit at her sister’s audacity.

“What did you say? I’m hard of hearing, Professor Rose,” Ozpin blandly stated, “I think I heard someone asking me that she wanted to have her professorship announced tonight.”

“Don’t you dare!” 

She listened as the two bickered back and forth. Well, more like Ozpin speaking and Ruby reacting. Hearing Ruby talk like this to an authority still frazzled her brain, and it was only Ruby saying something even more unusual that brought her out of her daze.

“And you still won’t tell me their name!” 

“Huh, whose name?” Yang asked reflexively, slightly worried about that little tidbit. Did oblivious-to-everything-but-weapons Ruby find someone she liked? At least someone will share Dad’s overbearingness when she started dating too. Ha. 

“His weapon’s name,” Ruby pointed at the cane Ozpin was holding. “His cane. It’s really something special, but you can’t tell unless you get your hands on it.” She then smugly grinned, “which I managed.”

The Headmaster quirked up an eyebrow before retorting, “you wrapped your hands and legs around it like a sloth and then refused to get off.”

“AND his weapon’s heavier than it looks but in a way I can’t really describe - like something more than physical. And there’s something like a heart ticking away, and it’s been ticking for a long time like an ancient clock,” Ruby said animatedly, her words speeding up with her excitement, “it's like watching one of those films before scroll technology or remembering a long memor-”

Well, at least some things didn’t change - like Ruby’s weapon obsession.

"You know, it’s rude to talk about other people’s weapons without their permission, Prof-” Ozpin cut her off.

“Ah, sorry, Headmaster,” Ruby bowed before lifting her head, “Wait, stop calling me that!” 

She had been so focused on her sister that she missed the Headmaster tightening the grip on his cane and the quickly-hidden shock on his face. 

======================================================

She couldn’t move, her limbs locking under the beady red gaze of the Beowulf in front of her. It lifted its claw into the air, about to deliver its death sentence. 

“Don’t hurt my sis!” A small five year-old ran in front of her, placing herself between the claw and herself.

“Ruby!” 

Somehow, someway, she found the strength to move. She stumbled onto her sister and wrapped her arms tight around her, turning away and preparing to protect the younger girl with her body. To protect her from the consequences of the mess she created. She closed her eyes, prepared for the pain. 

------

Yang groaned and slowly opened her eyes, lifting herself up to look at the other students snoozing around her. Ugh, she would have that nightmare again before Initiation started tomorrow. Or was it today? Crap.  

Sleepy eyes shut closed as she flopped back into her sleeping bag, waiting for oblivion to claim her. And for a minute or two, she managed to be still as a rock. 

“Argh. It’s useless.” She sat back up. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

The blonde quickly turned her head towards the raven-haired girl sitting by the windowsill, a book in her hands. Blake. 

“Can’t sleep obviously. What about you?”

“I’m used to staying up at night. I’m reading an interesting book after all,” Blake replied cheekily. 

Yang snorted, given that Blake had used that excuse to ignore her when she first tried to strike up a conversation. 

“The Schnee Dust Company’s heir seems to have taken a liking to your sister,” Blake said casually, “If it were me, I’d treat it as a bad thing, but I guess it’s good to have someone's backing.”

“Nah. I was listening in on that conversation. The moment that girl spoke about having an expert maintain her weapon was the moment she lost Ruby entirely,” she laughed. 

The scathing look Ruby gave the Schnee Heiress could’ve peeled paint. If there was an equivalent of a horse whisperer for weapons, it was Ruby. But as much as Ruby had disdain for those who didn’t respect their weapons, she wouldn’t show it - at least the Ruby of two months ago. She would’ve buried it deep inside and just be happy with the fact that someone was talking to her. 

Yang sighed. 

“...Ruby. She’s changed so much.”

“How so?” Blake inquired, closing her book shut. 

“Hmm. Why so curious?” Yang pouted, holding her heart, “Especially when you didn’t want to hear anything about little old me?”

“Well, the opportunity to learn more about Beacon’s youngest professor is hard to pass up,” Blake then added playfully, “don’t worry. You’re still interesting.”  

“I thought the professor thing was a joke,” Yang said in confusion, “Isn’t it?”

Was it though? She never heard Ruby outright deny it, just requested vehemently that the Headmaster not publicly announce it. Huh.

“I thought so too, but Ruby’s a bit special, isn’t she? Early entry to Beacon, taking solo missions, acting super casual with the Headmaster,” Blake replied, looking over at her, “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“I don’t think she is? I mean she would’ve told me, her sister - but...” Yang hesitated, “she’s changed a lot in the past two months. It’s like I don’t recognize my own sister anymore.” She grimaced, running a hand through her blonde bangs, “Ever felt that way about someone you’ve known for a long time and then bam what happened?”

Blake glanced outside the window and into the starry sky. 

“Yeah, I know a bit about that... But what about your sis? Might as well get it off your mind,” Blake sat crosslegged, staring expectantly and sincerely, clearly ready to listen.

With some hesitation, she glanced over at the sleeping girl several tables over with the Schnee girl sleeping a couple sleeping bags over, not quite ready to give up trying to recruit her. Good luck, brat.  

“Well my sis didn’t really have friends at Signal. She’s a loner but not really by choice. She tried so hard to fit in, but she never really clicked with anyone. No one really understood her or made the effort to.” Yang trailed off guiltily, “Maybe that’s why she could make the decision to come to Beacon so easily, because she had no one.” 

“I... I kinda expected I would have to give her a pep talk when I came here,” Yang admitted, “because Beacon required its members to form a team, even more so than Signal. I thought I would have to cheer my sis on about how she’ll find the right team but also telling her that I can’t be her partner and she needs to learn how to work with others.”

“But instead I see a confident girl who no longer seems afraid to let others know who she is. I see a fish in water. I see someone who’s found their place in life and is holding onto it with her own two hands. And also apparently making small talk and arguing with our Headmaster till she’s red in the face. Ugh, I don’t even know if she’s a professor. ” 

“Wait, so you seriously don’t know if your sister’s a professor?”

“Is that the only thing you took out of this?” Yang dropped her jaw, appalled, “I just poured my heart out to you, Blake! You have to take responsibility.”

The ebony-haired girl flushed wonderfully at her choice of words before grumpily rebutting, “W-who asked you to do that?”

A moment of silence passed between them, neither of them knowing what to say. 

It was Blake who broke the silence. “I think...you’re just having complicated feelings on seeing your younger sister grow up. I mean you seem like a good older sister, so you’ve probably protected Ruby all this time. And now that she no longer needs your protection, you probably feel a bit lost but also a bit of pride too.”

“Huh,” Yang blinked several times pondering what Blake said for a couple seconds, and then she smiled, a bittersweet feeling in her heart, “I think you’re right. I’m happy she’s grown up, but I also kinda miss the girl who’d cry when her weapon would go missing. Haha.” 

She then gazed playfully at Blake, “Oh Blake, why are you so wise?”

“Eh, I read it in a fortune cookie once,” Blake deadpanned without missing a beat.

“Ugh, and somehow my reverence for you has been lost,” Yang sighed before smiling, “But seriously, thanks for listening. Do you... Well... I heard you mentioned someone that you feel the same way about?”

Blake paused before shaking her head. 

“Ah, sorry. It’s a long story, and it’s late, and...” Blake said before adding in a dramatic baritone, “you haven’t progressed enough on the Blake Belladonna social link to know about that yet.” She stuck her tongue out before turning over to the side to go to bed.

“Oh come on! Pour your heart out to me now!” Yang said dramatically but upon seeing no response from the other girl, she snorted, “Fine. I’ll get to bed, and I’ll totally unlock more of the Blake storyline in the future. Does it end in romance at least?”

“Ugh. I’m not dignifying that with an answer. Good night, Yang.”

Yang laughed. 

-------

“And now even my sister thinks I’m a professor!” Ruby wailed at Headmaster Ozpin, pointing a finger back at her. Yang could only give the Headmaster an apologetic grin - probably should’ve asked Ruby in a more subtle way - as Ruby ranted on, “And no one else believes me when I deny it. That’s your fault!” Ruby groused.  

“Don’t worry, Miss Rose. I’ll be sure to do something about the rumors this evening,” the Headmaster spoke warmly, “You can walk back to your seat and see how I resolve this.”

As soon as Ruby sat down, Ozpin stood up tapping his glass with the back of his fork. All the students fell into silence upon noticing who was making the commotion, and all the attention quickly fell on him.

“Ah-hem. I have an announcement to make,” Ozpin spoke calmly, “I would just like to say that Ruby Rose is not a professor at Beacon. The fact she is on a first name basis with all your professors or participated in a mysterious extracurricular activity two months prior to her entry to Beacon is completely irrelevant,” Ozpin continued on before pausing briefly, a spark of amusement in his eyes, “And I suppose the fact she graduated from Signal two years early is also not that important. That and her impeccable display with her team during Initiation. Alright, that is all. ”

The man glanced over at Ruby, his gaze clearly asking ‘are you happy?’ to the girl.

Ruby only beamed happily in satisfaction.  

Oh my god. 

Ruby was right. 

Ozpin is a troll. 

And she could only facepalm at Ruby’s complete obliviousness to the fact that Ozpin’s wishy-washy way of explaining things probably made things a lot worse. 

Well, at least no one is going to call Ruby Professor to her face now. 

Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.  

[faline-cat444]

Super Giles*:Chapter One-The Wise Decision

*Also known through titles such as Super-Brikke and De Geheimzinnige Benzinepomp

Some of you out there might have seen videos and posts about a book intended for kids of the vaguely recalled plot which is a boy becoming a gas pump.While I did not experience this particular story during my days in elementary school there was something about it that stuck out to me and through observing the other souls hunting for it I did learn a few French copies were still in the wild and managed to acquire one(Technically the title in their language was Super-Gilles).

Considering this book is mainly intended to be read by those around 9-11 years in age/fourth graders it’s a bit more of an effort than some of the other things I’ve tried English-Ing up.Maybe there is still a chance an actual English copy will surface and we will see how similar/different the wording I went with is or while I’m messing with this someone has their hands on one of the copies in another language it’s been recognized to exist in.

As it tends to go for language in general whether it’s two different regions that both know English whether that’s two regions in the United States or pitting the US against Canada,the UK,and/or Australia there’s a bit of your typical language barrier I had to get self-taught and try to figure out an equivalent to.Most obvious being the name of the main character as I’m not sure how you get “Giles” from “Brikke”(Might need to ask a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan if they have the foggiest idea).As of this first chapter the most “major” example of this was the term of “cloche” which can translate into “bell” but specifically in French can mean a silly or clumsy person.I substituted this for “dolt”.Also keep in mind this book was apparently published in...

*punches in the Roman numerals on the publication information page*

1987

This might only be the first chapter so I have no idea what we’re fully in for but judging by the outcome so far...Some book you decided to remember existed,you kooks.

That morning,long before the alarm clock rang.Giles knew it was the big day. He knew what he wanted.

“This is nothing extraordinary,” he mumbled.”A ten-year-old boy knows exactly what he wants.This is no exception…”

For months,he had thought about it.He had his doubts and worries until this moment when his decision became unshakable.It had not been easy.It might be dangerous.But he knew he was going to do it.Today would be the day.

It was therefore impossible for him to stay in bed any longer.

Besides,this morning his room seemed totally different,as if he had nothing more to do there.He ran a finger along the books he had certainly read once,along the many toys he had been tired of for a long time.And he saw nothing he would miss.

In the next room he heard his father.Slowly he opened the door and approached the big bed.His father was laying on his back snoring peacefully,his mouth partly open.His mother put a pillow over her head and therefore was temporarily invisible.

Hesitant,Giles stayed near the big bed.Should he tell them what he was planning to do?But what if they didn’t understand?They might laugh at him.Or worse,they would lock him in his room.Then all would be at a loss!No,better not say anything.Let them find out on their own.If his plan was successful,they could be proud of their son.Giles even started to blush with pride.Silently,he left the room.

At school,the hours passed even slower than usual.It was a pure waste of time.Sometimes,the teacher’s voice became so vague Giles would zone out and begin to daydream,thinking about later,when he would…

“…Isn’t it so,Giles!” The teacher’s booming voice brought Giles back to earth.What was this man with his tiresome numbers talking about again?And what was with all the idiots chuckling around him?

Saved by the bell.Giles gathered his books and hurried…

“Hey,Giles,you come to play soccer?” Giles acted as if he heard nothing.”Hey,dolt,I’m talking to you.” A long and flabby boy insisted.

“Leave him be,” his friend interrupted,”he never want to play with us!”

“His mother forbids him,”another mocked.And then the whole group chanted maddeningly “Dimwit,dimwit!” and “Giles is a little mama’s boy!”

Without a glance,Giles followed his path,like someone who knew where he was going,straight to the point.This feeling of excitement took hold of him again and Giles accelerated his pace.Straight ahead,at the corner on the right to the traffic light and then…

His heart beating wildly,Giles stopped in front of a shiny gas pump,lacquered in red and yellow.Up above hung a gigantic panel with large square letters.Aloud and with a certain respect,he read the inscription,as he did every day he came here:SELF-SERVICE.

For a few months ago,Giles had discovered that Self-Service was a very special gas pump.Not at all like the silly pumps you find at gas stations.Those wait patiently for the pump attendant to come out of their glass cage to make them work.Self-Service did not need anyone.The glass cage behind it with its dirty and misty windows was empty and closed.It was completely unnecessary.Self-Service existed by itself.It stood along the road like an I and looked dignified.It even had a slight air of defiance,which Giles was a bit jealous of.The brutal honk of a car’s horn knocked him out of his state of admiration,he stepped aside to allow a large black car to approach the pump.The driver got out,took a few dollars out of his wallet and slipped them into the vending machine on the pump.

“Self-Service must be very rich.” Giles thought.

The man unscrewed the gas tank cap,took the pistol from the pump and placed it in the tank.

Self-Service immediately began rumbling.The pump began to live!Inside you could hear a continuous dull snoring,counters began to run,a lamp flashed,and one could hear a very distinct DING-DING-DING.At the same time it spat out a continue stream of gasoline,until it had enough.The driver looked disappointed at the last drops and returned the pistol to its place.For Self-Service,the business was settled,motionless and straight as a candle,waiting for the next customer.

The pump didn’t give gasoline to just anyone.A couple times Giles would see drivers in too much of a hurry did not receive a drop,even if they inserted several dollars.The insults,prayers,and beatings were useless,Self-Service remained intractable.When the black car was gone, Giles approached the pump.He stroked it with his hand and placed his ear against its stomach.Very deeply he felt his heart beating.

“I will become like you,” he whispered.A slight rumble ran through Self-Service.And instead of going home like previous days,Giles roamed the city in all directions,until he arrived on a beloved main road he didn’t know.He followed this road for several miles until he was exhausted.One last time,he looked around cautiously and with a broad movement he threw his bag into the bushes.He took a few more steps and finally stood where he felt he should be,right near a busy road.He stood there,straight as a candle,immobile,feet against each other,head upright,with a sincere yet slightly vexing gaze in his eyes.

Because since this morning,Giles knew exactly what he wanted to be…A gas pump. Slowly, he brought his right hand to his head and thrust two fingers into his ear.

[suzey8888]

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious education for kids “Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education. “Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly

any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon after this, the draft was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protection, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency

specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily. “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “After America, there is no place to go.” Kitty Werthmann ***Re-read the part where she says “everything was free” - healthcare and so on. Very much worth reading twice.****

[nitholites]

Damienette Soulmate AU, part 2 (here we go again)

Part 1 

Thank you @friendly-neighborhood-enby for proof-reading this word dump you’re gorgeous and I love you

Getting permission to leave the group was disturbingly easy. The fact that Marinette was so 'disruptive to the class, always starting things. Even when she should be leading by example' and Damian was 'so mature and responsible, and works at WE, where employees are known for their trust worthy natures!' helped. 

"You are much too kind for them, Marinette," Damian said as they left the class behind. She had actually restrained him from saying one of the many roasts he dearly wanted to, or from punching the incompetent teacher in the face- whichever he felt like.

Marinette opened her mouth, but snapped it shut and hummed instead. "You can say it," Damian coaxed. "Never halt your speech in front of me."

The look she gave him made him want to turn around and give her class a word lashing they won't forget. She looked almost shocked someone wanted to hear from her- a reaction no one should have. The smile she sent at him made him reconsider that plan. "I wasn't planning on holding back my words- I just realized something."

"Oh? Mind sharing that?"

She nodded. "Maybe you're right, is all. My friends, Luka and Kagami, keep telling me the same thing. I just think it's time to stop defending them like this, is all."

"They truly don't deserve you," Damian said before his mind caught up. As her smile lightened the air around them, Damian asked more about her home life- her hobbies and parents. Learning she grew up in her parents' bakery rang a few bells, but Damian chose to ignore them. She may not have learned from her parents, after all. And how could an angel like her be tied to his mangled, dark soul?

She deserved the world, as he knew from their time together on the tour. He couldn't give her the light she deserved and gave others. But maybe he could give her a space away from the air of her class, away from the cruelty of the people she used to call friends. That would be enough.

Regardless of what he could or couldn't do, what he would do was simple: Protect the smile that lit up the world for as long as she allowed.

Yes, he realized just how absurd that thought process was. They'd known each other for a day- no, a few hours. Vowing to protect her smile so soon was absolutely foolish. If it were anyone other than the kind, selfless girl beside him, Damian wouldn't have given her a spare glance.

If his brothers could see him now, he'd be mercilessly teased till the end of his days. He could hear their voices now- laughing with undertones of utter shock and disbelief.

But when she smiled, when her laugh chimed through the air like a clear bell... well, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Still, he'd suppress his quickly-growing fondness to something manageable until he had time to sort his thoughts.

.

.

.

Marinette, not for the first time that day, had to stop herself from letting loose her full laughter, trying not to embarrass herself and her company in public. She knew she could be loud- her voice carried when she wasn't careful, so she tried staying silent to counterbalance it- but the teen in front of her didn't seem to mind. If anything, he looked amused. The café was their most recent stop, after the museum, gardens, and flea market. A short coffee break before they went back to her class.

"Seriously?" She couldn't- absolutely could not- believe the tale Damian told, though he hadn't yet lied to her.

The teen nodded soberly, echoes of a smirk lingering on his face. "Alfred doesn't trust anyone in his kitchen anymore."

"It's no wonder! I'd do the same thing if my kitchen was as trashed," she stated, letting her hands follow her enthusiasm. "Your brothers committed the equivalent of kicking a homeless, 3-legged puppy to any self-respecting baker, let alone chef! My poor grandfather would have a heart attack!"

"Do you bake?" The question was accented with a slight raise of an eyebrow- a sort of challenge. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was many things- but a loser was not one of them, regardless of the game. Is this a game? she asked herself, slightly surprised at that train of thought. She found she couldn't answer, realizing their conversations were many things.

"When I'm stressed," she admitted. "I love the bakery and my parents, but practically coming out of the womb with a baking sheet in my hands put a few... habits in me."

Damian didn't verbally respond, moving his hand and nodding as though to say 'Go on'. So she did. "Bakers wake up at least two hours before the shop opens- or at least we do. The bakery opens at seven A.M. every morning, so we wake up at five at the latest. Usually closer to four," she started, sending a bright smile and a nod to the waiter who set down her coffee. A returned smile and a small greeting later, she returned to her explanation. "So check ‘early riser’ off the list. As stated before, I stress-bake. But I also help Papa with trying new recipes. So I'm practically always on the lookout for new or interesting flavors and combinations. Sometimes, I get so focused that I forget what I was doing," she sheepishly smiled, earning a chuckle from the boy before her.

"How do Gotham pastries compare to your family's?"

He thought the question was innocent enough.

Thought being the crucial word there.

A fire lit in Marinette's eyes then, a fire that told of harsh rants and moving arms. She laid all her complaints out there, genuine tears gathering at her eyes as she mourned the lack of decent baked goods. And as she explained each good, Damian found himself nodding along, nearly able to taste the poor items from her descriptions alone.

He nearly gagged from the imaginary taste. Never before had he uttered a sincere apology to someone outside his family, but he found himself looking into her eyes with as much remorse as he could muster. "I'm extremely sorry you had to sample those."

"It's alright, I suppose," she sighed. "I've actually started working with the bakers there to improve the pastries."

"Already? How long have you been in Gotham?"

"About a day."

She moved fast. "Perhaps one of these days, I can show you the better restaurants Gotham has to offer."

Damian paused, his mouth having moved before his brain even realized he spoke. "I mean, if you're free," he added, trying desperately to make the awkwardness clinging to the table vanish.

Before she could answer, a familiar voice called out. "Ya sure it's here, Pam?"

Damian turned in his seat, surprised at the arrival of none other than Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. He had to forcefully relax his body, seeing as the rogues had a good streak going. "I'm positive," the red-head responded, eyes searching the café. "This place is absolutely thriving." She gestured to the ivy on the wall near the register, which Damian now realized looked a bit greener than usual.

"Is something wrong?"

He turned back to Marinette, considering his next words. "Probably not," he eventually said. "What do you know of Gotham's rogues?"

"What was on the internet," she replied, eyeing the two women with... interest. "I wanted to make sure everything we needed to know was in the pamphlets, so I did my research."

Neither got the opportunity to speak more as Ivy approached their table, Harley following close behind. The questions sent Ivy's way were  ignored, both from Harley and Damian. But Marinette's were answered, as she asked with a small smile. "May I help you?"

"How are you doing that?"

Marinette blinked, confusion etching into her features. "I'm sorry?"

"The plants are singing your praises," Ivy continued. "You heal them. How?"

If Damian had been watching Marinette instead of Ivy and Harley, he would have seen the flicker of understanding and surprise pass through the small girl. As it was, only Ivy, who had been watching her intently, saw it. "I simply have a bit of a green thumb," Marinette smiled, tilting her head as she did so. “That… isn’t a problem, is it?”

“Of course not,” Ivy immediately responded, shaking her head. “I just came to thank you. For as long as I’ve been Poison Ivy, the plants in Gotham have never been happier than in your presence.” Shocked silence came from the other Gothamites, but Marinette was only embarrassed. She had never been good at receiving compliments, even before Lila and most compliments turned into sneers and bullying. 

Marinette stammered as she tried to thank the woman, the heat in her cheeks only adding to her embarrassment. Her words failing, she took a deep breath and calmed herself until she could speak in full sentences. “It’s really no problem- I’m just happy to help.”

The café

seemed to hold it’s breath- or perhaps the people inside did. Either way, nothing moved until Ivy did, smiling. “What’s your name, Blue Bell?”

Blue Bell? She answered anyway, having practice ignoring nicknames (even if she didn’t mind the kind ones). “Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m here on a class trip. You’re Mademoiselle Isley and Mademoiselle Quinn, oui?”

The women nodded, sending smiles to the girl. “Aw, ain’t ya such a darlin’,” Harley cooed, lightly pushing past her girlfriend to pat the sweet teen on the head. “A right angel in Gotham, ya are. How long ya stayin’, Sunshine?” Harley slid into the booth as she asked. 

“A couple months. Hopefully longer, if my application is accepted.”

“Already looking for colleges?” Now Pamela was in the booth, sat beside Damian as she joined in the questioning. Marinette nodded, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee. “All the way in Gotham?”

“I want to experience fashion and culture outside of Paris,” Marinette started. “See what the rest of the world is like while I have the chance.” 

Every passing moment with Marinette caused not only the rogues, but the other Gothamites in earshot to start rooting for her. Alas, time marches on, and both groups had things to do. They split at the entrance, Marinette and Damian beginning their trek to find her class and the rogues going to… well, neither teen would ask. 

  .

.

.

Robin suppressed a sigh, eyes scanning the streets below his perch. “No helping it, Baby Bird,,” the infuriating voice of his eldest brother sounded. “It’s a slow night for everyone.”

“The third slow night in a row,” he shot back, leaping from the ledge he used as a perch. The wind tousled his hair as he swung through the night, boredom already settling in his bones. “Something’s brewing.”

“I’ll look into it,” Oracle’s voice pitched in. Silence followed (if you ignored his brothers’ incessant chattering -which Damian did). At least until Oracle spoke again. “Reported argument, three blocks from the museum. Possible escalation. Robin’s the closest.”

“I’ll check it out,” he said over his brothers’ complaints. 

Only a minute of swinging later, and Robin could hear the argument. If you could even call it an argument. A large, burly man stood yelling at a smaller, meeker-looking young man, an even smaller girl between them standing tall. With pigtails.

Wait.... Robin knew those pigtails- he saw them only hours ago! Why was she out of the hotel? In Gotham? At night?! Did she have a death wish?! His mask zoomed in, their voices sounding in his ear. The large man’s yelling practically boiled down to ‘He’s my boyfriend, and therefore my property’ in prettier, louder words. Robin rolled his eyes, having seen this kind of situation countless times before. Damian, though, watched the man and Marinette, worried for her safety.

The big man started spewing nonsense about the smaller ‘getting like this sometimes’ and ‘needing to take his meds, he gets confused’. The shaking man refuted everything said, repeatedly stating how he was done, trying to get away from the man who took everything from him. 

“You think those morons you call friends would take you in?! They abandoned you! You have nowhere else to go!”

“Anywhere’s better than here!” 

Marinette just stood, glaring down the man who was literally three times her size. But when he tried grabbing behind her, she moved. Before anyone could say or do anything, the man was out cold with a bleeding face, on his stomach as she tightened a couple zip ties around his wrists and ankles. 

Robin had to pause his thoughts and think back to register what happened. A knee to the groin. Hands on either side of his head, holding it in place as she kneed his nose hard enough to break. When he didn’t go down, she swept his legs from under him and kicked his temple.

Her voice was too soft for the microphone to pick up, but by the way the smaller man’s face slowly relaxed, she had to have been saying something. 

She didn’t spin to face Robin as he dropped, but did stop talking. Standing, she pulled out her phone. “May I help you?”

“I should be the one asking,” Robin stated, puzzled at the slight tensing of her shoulders. She turned, making a face at him once she did. “What?”

“You’re a traffic light,” she stated. “I prayed the images online were photo-shopped.” She sighed, shaking her head and tutting as the man behind her chuckled. Pulling a card from her purse, she pushed it into Robin’s hands, stepping on the zip tied man on the ground. “I will literally remake your entire group’s costumes for free if you send me the material. Heaven knows I can’t let the protectors of Gotham dress as clowns,” she muttered.

Robin crossed his arms with a scowl, narrowing his eyes. “Who says we-”

“Nope,” she interrupted, holding a hand up to silence him. “No way am I letting anyone- anyone- run around looking like-” she gestured to all of him, scrunching her nose in disgust “-like that. Doing so is an insult to fashion designers everywhere.”

Back and forth they went, until Robin paused and looked to the victim. 

Laughter. 

Marinette smiled as she turned around, gesturing between the two conscious men. “He agrees! You’re giving the gays and fashion icons nightmares, Robin. Nightmares.” 

The laughter flowing from Robin’s earpiece didn’t help the situation. 

Once the cop car (singular, without sirens as Marinette had asked in her call) rounded the corner, the three gave their statements and went on their ways. 

For the most part. 

Robin went with Marinette a ways, both of them stopping at the intersection. “You know how dangerous it is at night.” Once she nodded, he continued. “Why were you out?”

“Well, I had a feeling,” she shrugged, letting a hand land on her hip. “I was just going to the coffee shop down the block when they ran past me, like I told the officer.”

Neither spoke for a moment, standing in silence. “Be more careful next time.”

She smiled, starting to walk again. “Always.”

Taglist:

@goblinwhoships @mochegato

[ragingbookdragon]

Passing Notes

A Shay Cormac x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2,795 Warnings: Explicit Language

Author’s Note: This is the first time I’ve sat down and written without deleting everything after five minutes! Enjoy! -Thorne

If there was one thing that bored her more than long meetings, it was long meetings when someone other than the grandmaster, or anyone she actually enjoyed listening to, had the floor. And at the moment, Charles Lee had the floor, which in her mind, was the equivalent to having someone slam her head between the door and the doorframe until she stopped moving. The only solace she found was the occasional note she and Shay had managed to write and pass back between the two of them, rather sneakily. She drew her eyes to Lee as she opened the note silently, then dropped them the page, reading over the scribbles across it.

           S- How long is this going to last?

(Y/I)- With bootlicker talking? Probably another hour.

           S- Please tell me you’re joking. We’ve got better things to do than sit around and listen to him.

           (Y/I)- You’re preaching to the choir Shay. I can count the number of business deals that I’m going to have to reschedule because we’ve already gone over on time.

           S- You think Haytham is annoyed that he’s talking on and on?

           (Y/I)- Is he sitting with his elbow resting on the armchair and his pointer is pressed against the side of his head?

           S- Yes?

           (Y/I)- Then he’s absolutely annoyed.

           S- It’s rather endearing that you can read his moods like that. Sometimes I look at him and I can’t even begin to wonder what he’s thinking about.

           (Y/I)- He’s like an onion-he’s got layers-peel ‘em back one at a time and things will become clear.

           S- You are so full of shit.

           (Y/I)- No more than you are, Irish boy.

           S- Man. Irishman, thank you very much.

           (Y/I)- You don’t look much like a man from where I’m sitting.

           After Shay had read that, he turned to her with a look of full offense on his face, and Haytham had taken the quick second to snatch their letter and read it over. The two had gone completely silent as he shifted his steely gaze to the two of them as a teacher would disruptive students. After a moment of staring at them, he clicked the quill against the inkwell and scribbled his own message before folding it quietly to pass back. When Shay unfolded it and wrote his own message, he passed it to (Y/N), who fought to keep the grin hidden as she read.

           H- It is extremely unprofessional for the two of you to pass a note back and forth like children.

           S- You mean like you’re doing? Right now?

           (Y/I)- Pot meet the kettles. Haytham, you’re officially apart of the ‘Club of Unprofessionals’.

           H- I beg to differ. I am denouncing the two of you with what you are doing. Also, ‘unprofessionals’ isn’t a word.

           S- Denounce, he says. Still counts, we say.

           (Y/I)- Hayth, be real, this is the most fun you’ve had in the last two hours. TWO. HOURS.

           H- I do not like to be called that, you know that, and Charles does have some good points to make.

           S- Oh my god, you’re encouraging him, Haytham. And she calls you Hayth?

           (Y/I)- Only in private. The last time I called him that in public he got terribly upset with me.

           H- I did not.

           S- Did he?

           (Y/I)- His face got really red and he told me if I called him that in a public setting again, he’d set me on fire.

           H- I DID NOT SAY THAT. YOU ARE LYING.

           S- I don’t think she’s lying.

           (Y/I)- Well, he didn’t exactly ‘say’ it, but he gave me a look that told me so. Remember Shay, he’s an onion.

           H- I am not an onion.

           S- Can we get of here now? (Y/N) and I have a gang headquarters to overtake.

           (Y/I)- That’s actually a good question. Because if I have to sit here and listen to Lee speak any longer, I might actually commit murder. Also, I really do not want to listen to Johnson or Hickey start talking either. Because I will kill them too. Only Pitcairn. He’s interesting to talk to.

           H- You are not going to kill Charles, William, or Thomas.

           S- Actually, if she wants to just maim them, I don’t have a problem with that. Also, why only Pitcairn?

           (Y/I)- I’m seriously considering it.

           H- No.

           S- Hey you never answered my question.

           (Y/I)- Are you sure I can’t maim them just a little Hayth? Just a teensy-weensy bit?

           H- No. And she likes accents.

           S- Oh? (Y/N), is this the reason you spend so much time with me? Oh, this is good ammunition.

           When the note reached her once more, her eyes went wide with shock before she turned to look straight at Haytham with a look of pure hatred. He simply smiled at her in return before nodding at Charles, a silent gesture to pay attention. (Y/N) pursed her lips and nodded, writing his own secret down.

           (Y/I)- How dare you, Haytham Kenway, my most beloved best friend, betray one of my deepest secrets? You know what? You want to fight dirty? I’ll fight dirty, sweetheart. Shay, did you know that Haytham can’t compliment women to save his life. Don’t get me wrong, he knows how to be polite, but you put him in a situation where he has to sweettalk a woman and he can’t do jackshit.

           She tossed Haytham a smirk before passing the note to Shay, who, upon reading the note, had to clap a hand against the lower half of his face to avoid outright hysterical laugher from escaping him. She noted the subtle change in Haytham’s expression, enough to have gone from cool and collected to slightly unnerved and concerned. Shay scribbled down his own response before handing him the note, and (Y/N) watched a pure look of betrayal cross his face as he looked between her and the sheet of paper. She glanced at Shay and offered him a satisfied smile as the paper came back her way.

           S- You’re joking? The great Haytham Kenway can’t smooth talk women? The man who can make others piss themselves in pure fear with one dangerous look? The man who commands authority and expects respect when he steps into a room? The man who can take down a squad of soldiers singlehandedly? That man? He can’t talk to women? Jesus Christ Haytham, it’s not that hard.

           H- (Y/N) (L/N), I am docking your pay for two months. I cannot believe you just told that. I can talk to women. I talk to many women during the day.

           S- Well now it seems like you’re overselling it too much. You really can’t talk to women, can you Haytham?

           (Y/I)- Jokes on you, English boy, I make money outside of the templars, so kiss my ass.

           H- As you wish (Y/N), you are docked for the rest of the year.

           S- Ha. Looks like you’re going to be stuck with me to earn a living (Y/N). Me, my ship, and my lovely Irish accent.

           (Y/I)- You’re both dickheads and I hate the two of you.

           H- I guess you should have thought about this outcome before spilling secrets.

           S- Aw, lass, don’t hurt my feelings. I know you love me.

           (Y/I)- Up yours Kenway, you spilled first. And I do not love you.

           H- I simply answered a question.

           S- You spend all your time with me? Typically, when someone loves another person, they spend their time in said person’s company. Are you sure you don’t love me?

           (Y/I)- I spend time with you because you’re incompetent. I’ve watched you fall off rooftops and trip over nothing. You’re like a puppy that needs to be watched so it doesn’t piss on the carpet.

           H- While that is a rather descriptive analogy, Shay is not incompetent. He has taken a great deal of responsibility since moving into Fort Arsenal. But besides that, you do spend a majority of your time with him. Why is that?

           S- Yeah, what Haytham said. Why do you spend so much time with me? Is it my dashing good looks? Maybe my perfect marksmanship? It’s my good looks, isn’t it? Oh, you’ve fallen in love with me. Careful Haytham, I might sweep your right-hand woman from underneath you.

           (Y/I)- My god, who’s side are you on? You know what? I’m done. You’re both asses and I’m not talking to you two anymore. And Shay, I hope you fall off the pier.

           She passed them back the note before crossing her arms over her chest, turning her attention to Lee with an annoyed look. The longer she stared at the man, the harder she resisted the urge to snatch the letter that was still going between the two of them. When the meeting ended, she was one of the first out the door, intent to lose Haytham and Shay to find a bar to drink in.

A Few Hours Later:

           She slammed the tankard back on the bar, waving the bartender for another. He walked over and started filling the cup, but also asked, “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, miss?” (Y/N) drew her eyes up from the filling mug and glowered at him before slamming a few pounds on the bar.

           “How ‘bout you keep filling and I’ll keep paying?” He arched an eyebrow, but kept silent, swiping the money from the wooden counter, before walking off to another counter. Her eyes narrowed and she chugged the whiskey back until it was empty. When it was, she placed the tankard down, then placed her forehead on the bar, muttering, “Stupid best-friend. Stupid Irish sailor. Stupid cocky grin. Stupid accent. Stupid-” A certain accented voice cut her off, quipping,

           “Careful there lass, you might actually hurt my feelings.” (Y/N) pulled a face as she raised her head, watching Shay sit in the barstool next to her.

           “Good. I hope you drown in them.” The grin he gave her only served to irk her more as he nodded to her empty tankard.

           “Like you’re tryin’ to do with that liquor?” She grunted, but nodded and turned to the side, calling,

           “Speaking of liquor…bartender! I’m out!” He frowned as the man walked back over, then placed his hand over her cup.

           “I think you’ve had enough lass.” (Y/N) glared as she shoved his hand off, growling,

           “Unless you wanna lose that hand, don’t touch my cup.” Shay rolled his eyes at her and looked at the bartender, handing a few coins to him.

           “Last mug for her.” The man nodded and poured her last round, and Shay watched as she held the tankard to her chest. “Are you trying to nurse the mug lass?” (Y/N) took a swig then looked at him, hazy eyes still holding an edge as she bit out,

           “I might be inebriated, but don’t assume I can’t and won’t kick your ass.” She went back to her tankard, drinking the rest down before she placed it back on the counter, folding her arms across the bar as she laid on them. Shay sighed, murmuring,

           “You’re acting like a child (Y/N).” She frowned, burrowing the lower half of her face into her arms as she mumbled,

           “No, I’m acting like a woman who was and is embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Shay huffed a laugh, setting his elbow on the bar, propping his chin on his palm.

           “What are you even embarrassed about?” He let out another laugh, moving his chin to poke her with his hand. “Is it about earlier? Lass, you know Haytham and I were just teasing you?” (Y/N) glanced at him, before looking away, muttering,

           “It…it didn’t feel like teasing to me. It felt serious…it felt-” His jaw went slack and one look at his face had her scoffing as she rose from the bar. “Oh Jesus Christ. I am not doing this right now.” She turned on her heel and stumbled for the door but didn’t get far when someone bumped into her. The addition of the sudden force with her already clouded mind sent her tumbling to the floor, but before she could kiss it, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back up. Her back met a strong chest and split second, she wanted to struggle against whoever had her by the waist when the familiar scent of sea salt and gunpowder reached her nose, followed by his voice.

           “Easy (Y/N)…I’ve got you.” She relaxed slightly, letting him lead her to the door, and as they stepped into the cool night, she grimaced and mumbled,

           “Sorry.” She couldn’t see his face, but one of his hands curled into hers as he led her, and he smiled,

           “It’s alright lass…everyone has nights like this.” (Y/N) felt the familiar warmth gather in her eyes and she shut them, shaking her head as she retorted,

           “I don’t have nights like these. I don’t need them.”

           “Lass, everyone needs a break. We’re all entitled to our feelings.”

           “Will you stop that!” The sudden shriek made him halt and she pulled away to stare at him as he questioned,

           “Stop what?” (Y/N) wildly waved her arms, yelling,

           “Stop treating me like a fragile doll! I’m a grown woman and I will not be treated as anything less!” Shay pursed his lips and nodded, crossing his arms across his chest as he countered,

           “Alright, you wanna be treated like a grown woman? Fine. I’ll treat you like one. You’re always the one giving the remarks that when the receiver turns around and gives you something you can’t handle, you don’t know what to do with it. When Haytham and I decided to give as good as we get, you didn’t know how to handle it besides pouting like a child. But it’s not the fact that you couldn’t handle being double teamed, because let’s be honest, I’ve seen you slap groups of people without laying a hand on ‘em.” He reached out, poking her in the chest. “It’s the fact that you had the truth written in front of you-literally-and you didn’t know how to process it.” He withdrew his hand and inquired, “Did I cover most of it?” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, but then she snapped it shut and nodded, then muttered,

           “…Yeah…that’s it…” She dropped her gaze to the ground, staring at her feet as she added, “I’m going to go home now…and…probably sleep for a whole day…hopefully forget this conversation.” She turned and took a step when his arms wound around her, pulling her backwards. Before she could ask, he murmured,

           “Home’s not that way, lass.” (Y/N)’s brows furrowed, and she questioned,

           “What are you talking about?” Warm breath fell next to her ear and he replied,

           “The Morrigan is on the other side of New York lass.” She huffed a laugh full of disbelief.

           “Is this a joke?” He spun her around, staring into her eyes as he grabbed her hand, placing it against his chest.

           “Does it feel like a joke?” (Y/N) frowned as she went quiet, feeling the rapid thump of his heart under his chest. He offered her a troubled smile. “I’ve heard it’s wrong to fall for your superiors, but I can’t help it.” Her eyes went wide, and she gaped at him as he added, “I’m not the greatest man ever (Y/N). I’ve got my regrets and troubles, and trouble finds me more than I solve it, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I know I love you.” He curled his hand around the one at his chest, squeezing tightly, but not enough to hurt as he breathed, “If you’ll have my heart…I’ll have yours as well…” Tears welled in her eyes and she began to nod, when a crooked grin crossed his lips and he quipped, “Well, I think I already do have yours.” (Y/N) barked a laugh that almost sounded like a scoff and withdrew her hand, walking past him towards the docks.

           “You absolute ass. Get all touchy-feely with me about your feelings and turn around and get cocky about it.” Shay chuckled as he spun around and hauled after her as he said,

           “Well am I gonna get a response?” (Y/N) smiled as she clasped her hand around a streetlamp, twirling around it, and retorted,

           “I’m heading home, am I not?” He matched her grin and caught her as she let go. Drawing her into his arms, he pressed his forehead to hers and expressed,

           “With you right here…it’s all the home I need.” She giggled at his words.

           “You’re a terrible flirt Shay Cormac.” He huffed a laugh, countering,

           “At least I’m better at it than Haytham.” (Y/N) gave him a smile and nodded.

           “That you are Shay.”

[coralstudiies]

SURVIVAL GUIDE & STUDY TIPS

hello everyone!! this post is a collab with the lovely and amazing @boinkhs because we've both reached 2k followers :D she'll be doing study tips for college students and i'll be doing study tips for high schoolers. check out her post here!

i've split this into part 1. survival, which concerns how to study & learn better in general and just tips on how to get through high school. part 2. is on specific study tips for each type of subject, namely sciences, maths, languages and humanities.

Hope this helps <3

1. Don't snooze please

you just end up snoozing 5 times then you’re late for school

2. If you find you have difficulty getting out of bed, just keep in mind ONE TASK you need to do.

for example, making your bed. then you just gotta focus on that! it should help fight the sleepiness because you’re forcing your brain and limbs to be active.

3. Do the necessary things like brushing your teeth, putting on clothes and eat breakfast

i don’t know why but some people don’t eat breakfast before coming to school like ???? excuse me ???? please eat at least a small snack, or a fruit or something. your body doesnt function on an empty stomach! also, drink some water to hydrate yourself

4. On the road, you should do something that puts you in a good mood.

for me, i go straight to spotify and listen to my playlist. you should also review the previous day’s learning so that you refresh your memory before going back to class. personally this is my fav part of the day HAHAHA

5. If you like, you can choose to read a book.

just make sure you’re calm but ‘warmed up’ to focusing in a sense.

1. Hydrate frequently

idk man it just keeps you awake + i dont feel so icky if i drink enough water

2. Learn actively

if the teacher asks questions, try to answer. sit at the front row. offer to help give out the worksheets or notes. clarify your doubts after. when they speak, copy down notes. don’t worry about the aesthetic; i mean you can but you need to write fast and neat which unfortunately doesnt come together very often. i suggest you spend more brain power digesting and understanding the content.

3. Don’t over highlight

ONLY KEY POINTS that are stressed by the teacher. you can tell when their tone changes, expression changes, when they use more hand motions, or they keep repeating a few key words. yes , that. highlight that. stare at it while listening to them speak. make sure you understand. if you don’t please ask. but make sure you don’t have a fluorescent page because that’s not ideal study material!

4. Write down any questions you have

if they’re answered in the lesson, cancel them off. if not, ask after the lesson. dont be scared! *sends virtual courage*

5. Use whatever free time you have to finish homework

because you’re gonna thank yourself later. you should spend more time at home revising than doing homework. ( doing homework isnt equivalent to revising PLEASE I KNOW SO MANY PEOPLE WHO SAY THEY REVISED FOR 3 HOURS BUT ALL THEY DID WAS HOMEWORK ) also it feels better knowing you have one less thing to worry about

6. Record down all assignments, due dates and test dates

do it in a planner or your phone. doesn’t matter just keep them somewhere. it can be demoralising to see an entire entry of shit to get done but still it’s better than not knowing what needs to be done. ignorance is NOT bliss. try to color code or symbol code them, for example • for assignments (due date behind), - for tests etc. act on this when you go home (see below)

7. Have a file/binder some form of organisation to keep different subjects’ worksheets, tests, notes, reading etc.

you can have one massive binder, one binder for each subject, one folder file for each subject or anything that suits you. for me, i clip all materials of one subject together with a binder clip. the materials i use most are at the front for easy reference. then put those bundles into zipper files, perhaps one for math and sciences, another for languages and humanities. or whatever suits you best! make sure you have everything in one place so you don’t panic and dig through a pile of dog-eared paper.

8. If you can, when it’s near the exam period, don’t stay back after school unless it’s to study.

i used to stay back for training and to play volleyball with my friends and i kid you not we would play from 2pm to 6.30 pm and get nothing done but it was fun. and i’m not saying deprive yourself of that fun but when the exams are near, you should be studying somewhere quiet/ somewhere you can focus. you should go somewhere (preferably home) where you can focus and get things done.

9. Decide if you’re a lone wolf or if you need a study buddy/study group

personally i’m a lone wolf because i hate distractions and i don’t want to distract others. but when my friends ask me for help i don’t mind staying back a little to teach them and/or study with them. Personally i find that for subjects like english which require you to write about an array of topics, studying with someone else can help in generation of essay points and to just broaden your understanding of the topic. so yeah it really depends, just do what suits you :)

10. Take notes in class

try to understand while copying, and if you didn’t understand something, you should raise your hand and ask for the teacher to repeat so that you hear it again. also, it gives you more time to take notes as they re-explain the content. read them after the lesson is over to help internalise some facts. you can create your own method of organisation for your notes, e.g. colour coding.

1. Review the day’s learning on the way home.

if you take public transport, try to flip through your notes and worksheets to review new content for the first time.

2. Eat lunch, have a snack, take a shower, everything that’s necessary.

if you use your phone while eating, make sure you don’t eat slowly just to use your phone because that’s wasting time.

3. If you’re super tired, just have a 15-20min power nap

nothing more otherwise you will NEVER wake up until the dead of night. just take a nap to get some energy back. doesnt matter if you wake up feeling more tired, because you’ll shake that feeling in a while. keep a glass of water beside you so that you can drink it once you wake up!

4. Look through your ‘list’ that you made earlier in the day. (in class, pt. 6)

you might want to spend max 10 mins updating your schedule. then stare at the dreaded homework. start with the easiest and least time consuming to build up momentum. this could actually be the remainder of what you’ve finished in school. then look at the due dates. do them in order of due dates. unless it’s a huge project or assignment, you might want a head start on it!

5. With the remaining time, you should start revising

review the day’s learning AGAIN.

make notes/mindmaps/flashcards whatever works for you. you should prioritise the subject or chapter that you were most confused about. quickly revise and try to clear up any questions you have about the chapter. if you have additional time, go ahead and make notes for the next subject! another way is going through corrections and clarifying your doubts with friends/teachers, and summarise the day’s learning on a post-it or two. if you’ve already taken notes in class, look at other sources e.g textbook and combine what you’ve learnt before re-writing or re-organising your notes.

1. Pack your bag!

remove unnecessary materials, and pack the necessary one. make sure your bag isnt too heavy. you can choose to hand carry some files or binders if they’re too bulky, but make sure you’re all packed before the next morning

2. Have a meal & clean up

again, basic necessities. don’t go to bed hungry or feeling icky because thats not how you treat yo self!

Before class:

if you’re going to continue on a chapter, review the content that came before it. Try to make your own connections between the already learnt and to-be learnt content so that you’re mentally ready for class.

In class:

take down notes, highlight, annotate and DRAW DIAGRAMS. you can’t do sciences without diagrams. for physics or chemistry which require more calculation, copy down the problems your teacher goes through and solve them along with him/her. write the formulas on a post it note so you can stick it onto the page where you’re writing for easy reference. if the teacher plays a video which is MOST DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO WAIT FOR YOU you have to write only the relevant points in the most abbreviated form possible.

Note-taking:

I find that linear notes help me most in sciences. for chapters that involve lots of interconnected processes, for example o chem, then mindmaps or flowcharts will be helpful. also if you tend to forget something, post-it that stuff on the front page of your notes where you are FORCED to stare at it. yes. write down example problems and their steps, then write explanations for each step so that if you’re confused you can always refer back. again, draw any required diagrams.

Answering techniques:

if there’s a ‘standard’ way to answer it then you have to make sure you follow that way even in your homework because it’s muscle memory. when you get to exams, your hand will automatically write in the same format so you don’t lose marks or spend time recalling the correct format.

imo sciences are quite logical so as long as you remember and follow the flow you’ll be fine!

In class:

copy key terms, facts and examples and write all examples that the teacher has gone through. write all formulas and definitions on a post it, then shift it around the pages as needed. if there’s a type of problem you particularly suck at, ask your teacher for help IMMEDIATELY because it’s so easy to forget the steps to a problem.

At home:

do your homework, do additional practice, correct your mistakes, clarify, and repeat. memorise formulas and definitions (perhaps using flashcards or post its) then practice more and make sure your concepts are strong. there’s no easy way and sadly this is all i can comment.

In class:

copy down notes, think actively, and if you’re given a sample essay you should annotate the heck out of it and keep it somewhere safe.

For essays:

read up more and write up. befriend the best writer in class and ask for their essays. write essay plans and consult your teacher. brainstorm possible approaches with friends. read the news, and copy the links of interesting online articles for future reference. have a go-to list of examples and quotes you can use, for any and every topic. read these like your bedtime story and never forget to keep updating them.

For comprehension passages:

read the questions first. then you’ll be more sensitive to what you need to read in the passage and how you need to analyse it. try to question yourself about how and why the author does something or makes you feel something. do not rush-read the passage or you will fail horribly (personal experience). do one or two extra comprehensions and ask your teacher to mark them.

In class:

ARROWS TO LINK EVERYTHING and annotate any class notes given. write down new examples provided by the teacher. if there is a link you ‘can check out’ go check it out. it’s probably something thats gonna be on the exam.

At home:

you have to rely on mindmapping and flow charts because everything is linked in some way and you cannot ignore those links!!!! although i do my humanities notes in linear form, my in class notes are all in the form of mindmaps. and actually i revise from those in a pinch because i can see everything at one go. watch vids on the concepts, for example plate tectonics. those things are so hard to see when they’re deadass sitting on the page and not budging. watch a video where they really move instead of being frozen.

If you’re so frickin lost:

watch more videos on the concepts, watch more videos on the events, search up interpretations online and ask your teachers!!! for everyone who gets equally lost as me when i’m faced with a new chapter, another way is to pre-read before the teacher starts teaching. if you’re lazy to read just watch a couple clips on it so that at least you have some background. even if you wake up the next day with 0 concrete memory, which you won’t, you’ll already have the flow of things which will help you if you’re usually the straggler.

(disclaimer i study geography although i've tried history and english literature but i think that they're similar to some extent, especially on how to study them)

[motsimages]

A list of Hollywood things that may be what real life is in the US and the equivalent situation in Spain. Feel free to add your own country. I’d love to know of other places :)

This is going to be long, so the TL:DR is there are many things I know about the US because of the movies, landscapes, hobbies, cultural things, everyday life things and sometimes they feel very normal or like something that happens in movies, no in between. They are neither and this is a list of differences I can think of in regards to Spain.

Click there to find out, there are pictures and all.

- Going to school by car, by bike or in a yellow bus: We either walk or your parents drive you (specially when you are too young to go by bus on your own or your parents are overprotective). Not really bike because bike lanes are a mess (in that they don’t exist) in Spain, it is dangerous. There are school buses if students come from places that are further but they’re average travel buses and once you are 16, you cannot use them. You have to go to school from 16 to 18 in public transportation because school is not mandatory after 16, it is understood it’s your choice. You may have a motorbike at 16 but I don’t know anybody who went to school in it. All of this is extra -fun- if you live in a village as in there may not be any bus service if it’s a small place or you live far apart from the village.

The picture is an average school bus with a woman in charge of picking up children. It looks like it’s in the country or maybe, the outside neighbourhoods of a city.

- Dating: we don’t date. If you like someone, you find a way to hang out with them and hope for the best. It may be more or less clear what is going on but it’s not a date, just a plan. You go to a restaurant/movies/theater... when you _are_ in a relationship or with friends. Not a date. The confusing hell it is to watch people saying things like “It’s a date! I’ll pick you up at 8!” Ok. Maybe they pick you up but still not a date. Also: not a problem if you have sex straight away or if you don’t feel like it (because there is no social obligation around it, no date). It seems to be a big deal when you are 30 and “never been in a date” but the first time I was in a date was with my current boyfriend _after_we started going out (I was 30 btw). I met him on a dating app, btw. Still don’t consider the first time we met “a date”. “Going on a date” maybe a thing but still probably based on movies.

- Prom: very confusing. Specially the part where you _have_ to have a _date_ (again, not something we do ever). If we do a ball (IF, also it wouldn’t be a “ball” as such but a “party”), it is actually expected to go on your own, with your friends. It would be a massive social pressure to go with the boy you like (with whom nothing happened prior to this) in front of people. Nah, you either go with your partner that you already have or with mates. But generally speaking, there is no “prom” or “graduation” in high school. In my high school, we spoke with a restaurant to have dinner, invited the teachers we liked and after that, went to local bars to party until the next morning when we went to see what grades we had received for the year. It was done like this so those who failed the exams could still party with the rest.

As for uni, maybe some other colleges do something but we didn’t (mainly because I studied translation and half of the people in my year were abroad that year). I don’t even have a picture of my graduation. People usually dress smart and then wear a band with the colour of their faculty.

The picture is graduation from Tourism (if I’m not mistaken). It shows a group of girls on a scene, all of them smartly dresses with an orange band on their shoulders. Their classmates are sitting on the grades of this “theater thing”, all wearing the same band.

- High School: in general, it’s very confusing. It seems to me like there is some kind of obsession with high school years given all the movies about high school and all the “childhood sweetheart” stories out there. For us, it is quite an irrelevant period of our lives, almost like school. You do it because you have to but often, life (and interesting things) happen AFTER high school. Our high schools don’t have lockers, you just carry 5 books in a backpack. But you have your class, only a couple of things take place in other rooms (maybe Science in the lab, or some optional subjects). Public schools close once the classes are over and all the activities you may want to do, you do them somewhere else (paying for them, most of the time). There are no School teams of anything, you don’t play against other schools either (maybe private schools do, I don’t know). In my high school, I remember for Spring we organised like a week of activities and you would sign up with your mates if anything. You and 2 others would make a basketball team to play in the Basketball league against other people in your class but it isn’t “The Official Team”. I remember there was a card tournament for the game of Mus (typical from Madrid). Also, we don’t have The Popular, The Band Kid, The Nerds, etc. clearly separated. There is bullying (but our toilets are not full of water so you cannot drown there) but either you are normal or you are the weird kid, so to say. I was a weird kid who suffered some light bullying and then I went to average, with no bullying. Overall, everyone speaks with each other and unless it’s a severe case of bullying (which there are), there are no underdogs or closed groups. We don’t have yearbooks AT ALL and this “Clown of the class” thing? I personally find it borderline problematic.

Picture of an average high school in Spain. It’s separated in two halfs. On the left, there is a couple of people carrying backpacks in a corridor. It’s quite dark, a window at the end giving light to the corridor. On the right, one of the doors of the corridor is open and shows a classroom. There are lots of green tables and chairs, all of them in pairs. At the end there is a blackboard. The light comes from the window.

- Alcohol consumption and other drugs: We can drink at 18 and it’s not a big deal if you get drunk. By the time you’re 18, your parents have seen you drunk more than once. You may have gotten drunk with your parents. You’ve seen them drunk more than once. Spain is quite an alcoholic society, tbh. BUT we do not like aggressive drunkards or dependant drunkards. You can get drunk but you have to be able to still be nice. Your friends will stop hanging out with you if you get drunk too often, too heavy or too badly (and you will find those who follow you, obvs). We do it to socialize and have fun, not to knock out. Weed is partially legal (I don’t really know the law, you can get fined for carrying but not arrested, you can buy paraphernalia in shops, there are cannabis clubs, people can smoke on the street in the open, you can grow it at home, it can be used for medical purposes or recreational). Other drugs are illegal though personal use may be allowed? I don’t know but I do know that it’s relatively easy and cheap to find other harder drugs, and so, they are commonly used at parties. The 80s were a complicated time in Spain because the heroine consumption was over the roof. It killed many many people in that generation.

- Houses: in cities, it’s more frequent for people to live in a flat. Depending on the time when this flat was built, the quality of the materials will be better, the flat will be bigger or smaller. Houses are something you see mainly in villages and they tend to be next to each other, no garden (maybe a patio). In the last 20-30 years, people started to show an interest in something that looks like “suburbs” from the movies (even though “suburbio” in Spanish actually means the full opposite of “suburbs”) but it doesn’t fit the weather nor the way we live and I personally hate them. And wooden houses are out of this world, everything here is made of stone or brick. Traditional houses here are made of stone with thick walls (up to one meter of thickness). I attach pictures of houses in the North of Spain. Southern houses are full white, no wooden structures to be seen from the outside.

A village in what looks like the North of Spain. There is a lot of vegetation, you can see some white and brown houses in a grass field. There is a tower at the back. We see a town square with houses made of stone, red roof and wooden balconies. Most of the walls are painted white, some aren’t and you can see the stone itself.

- Physical contact: in the movies, people rarely hug. It seems to me that maybe in the 80s-90s people hugged, touched more on screen. At some point in the 2000s it stopped and now you have people crying their eyes out and their best friend just standing there. We stand closer to each other and touch each other to show care, interest and affection very often. Some people in Spain are not very tactile (and thus, really like Northern Europe) but generally speaking, if someone cries, you hug them (unless you know they don’t want it, in which case you stay nearby). Heterosexual men also hug and also hold each other by the shoulder, for instance. I know this is a shock for some foreigners (don’t know if in the US it would be). From the times I’ve met US people, they’re not only surprised but sometimes actually scared that people touch them. Not even Asians react the way US people do to physical contact in Spain. BTW, when I say “touch”, I mean “the arm, shoulder” mainly. Other places require closer levels of friendship. However, you may kiss your partner/lover anywhere in the street, it’s ok, usually goes unnoticed by people. Even my parents grab each others asses occasionally in the street.

This picture is from La Torre de Suso, where 4 friends gather after 10 years of being apart because an old friend died. It also touches on drug addiction and the 80s. It shows 4 men in their 40s wearing a jacket and a tie, smartly dress, smiling and about to hug each other in the middle of the street of what looks like a small town.

- Welcoming someone to the neighbourhood: apparently, people bring cakes to the new comers. We don’t, you’ll eventually meet your neighbours. Or not. But you have to say hello to the people you see on the stairs of your flat, in the street you live. In small towns/villages, you have to greet everyone you know, at least say “hi”, ideally actually stop for small talk (I’m terrible at this but getting better now that I live in a small town).

- Church: it seems to be a big part of people’s lives. Very often, people are going to church, all ceremonies seem to be religious (marriage, death...) and they tend to be Christian (sometimes Jewish but they seem to be less involved in their religious life?, or maybe the movie is done by non-religious people?). In Spain, everything is Catholic and at the same time, it isn’t. Many traditions are Catholic and people enjoy them but they aren’t Catholic themselves. There are churchgoers, of course. There are Catholic cults with massive power in politics and society (Opus Dei, mainly). But we had a fascist Catholic dictatorship and many people got very tired of it. To give you an idea of how things usually go: everyone in my village eats the same meal (fish and garbanzo beans for lunch, potato omelette for diner) on Good Friday (even my family, where nobody has ever been religious willingly). Only old people and some very Catholic families go to church. Most holidays are related to Catholic Saints (this gives us lots of long weekends and days off during the year) and they are often celebrated with a town fair that lasts several days.

In theory, Spain has no religion. In reality, it is Catholicism. In schools/high schools there is a subject called “Religion” and almost always it’s about Catholicism (teachers of this subject, even in public schools, are related to the Church somehow). It is not mandatory but often there is no alternative if you don’t want to take it (I was the only child who didn’t attend and had my own homework during that time that my mother chose for me: Ethics).

The image is from El Rocío, an important religious fair that takes place in the South of Spain. Many local fairs look similar to this. Lots of people are gathered in a small temporary white hut, decorated with garlands (white and red) and the flag of Andalusia that is green and white. There is a bar with small glasses of white wine and some plates with food on them.

This said, it’s very frequent to get married at the Town Hall with a couple of witness and it’s also very frequent for burials to happen in the Tanatorio, where people can say goodbye to their loved one but it’s not in church.

And even many church goers are not devoted Christians, are open minded about LGBT issues or other, for instance.

- Prison: We don’t have death penalty but people can spend their life in prison if their crimes are massive and they add years and years to their sentence. Prisons here are public and as far as I’ve seen in Spanish movies, there are no uniforms, you wear your everyday clothes. You will only go to prison if you committed a serious crime or if you have several small crimes. Often, the first time it’s a reduced sentence that can be made into paying a fine. The second time you will go to prison. This happens even for domestic violence/rape which usually causes great controversy in society. You can leave earlier if you behave well (very earlier actually) and sometimes you can leave the weekend and the come back to prison, or leave for x hours and come back to sleep. It depends on the sentence and behaviour, etc. I’d say terrorism is the hardest charge and right now, they are using terrorism as an excuse to sentence activists (there quite a lot of political prisoners in Spain).

I mention crimes because you have to have LOTS of other offences to go to prison. They usually are just fined.

The picture is from the movie Cell 211 which is an excellent movie. Do watch it. It shows the main character, a bold man with a goatie wearing a sweater whose sleeves have been cut off. He looks serious. On the background, many men wearing everyday sports clothes cheer and look in the same direction as him.

- Laws: I don’t know Spanish law very well (it bothers me to say that I may know better what to do with the police in the US than in Spain) but it seems to me, from the movies, that many things are made into a massive deal in the US. Like jaywalking is apparently an offence of some kind? Here you can just cross the street wherever. People respect the crossing path for safety but it’s not a crime to not do it. People also don’t sue companies or other people as often and it’s usually not that big of a deal maybe? In any case, it’s a completely different legal system.

. The 50s: The 50s in the US are fancy and colourful. Society seems to have been thriving, everything was getting better. In Spain, the hunger years were starting to be over but many people were poor. We were in the worst of the Franco dictatorship, it was quite a rural society that had been destroyed by a civil war (the effects of which are still being felt). Rich people were fascist, poor people could be anything (many were actually communists, republican or other leftist). This is not a happy time in Spain. Many people had left to be refugees in other countries, many were leaving illegally to work in Germany or France. The music we listened to at the time was definitely not Elvis Presley (look for Lola Flores or Miguel de Molina, even though he ended up fleeing the country because he was openly gay and republican and they almost killed him once).

This image is from the movie Los Santos Inocentes, based on a book of the same title. A classic of Spanish modern literature and cinema. This is the way most people looked in the 50s in Spain. Even now old people look like this in villages.

It is like a family picture in front of a white house. Everyone is wearing black, dark blue, dark green or grey. From left to right, there is a boy sitting on a bench that is situated next to the door. Next, it’s a young girl wearing a long grey skirt and a dark green jacket. By the door, the mother holds a very thin boy who seems to be either deeply sick or dead. She wears mostly black and gray. The boy has the brightest green in the scene. Next to her, there is a man wearing a gray jacket and a bonet and finally, there is an older man that seems to be smiling (the only one smiling, everyone else has a serious and gloomy face).

And that’s what I can think of right now.

[purplesurveys]

1230

When was the last time you felt like “getting into someone’s pants”?  Way back last year.

What is your favorite energy drink, if you have a favorite at all?  I find energy drinks nasty.

Would you have kids with the last person you kissed?  That wouldn’t be possible even in the literal sense.

Do you know someone who threatens to kill themselves?  Before.

Would you ever completely dye your hair the color green?  Yes, but I would opt for a darker shade rather than a bright or neon one.

Have you ever been in a long-distance relationship before?  I have not. Thinking about it, I’m pretty low-maintenance so I could probably handle it if I ever find myself in that situation, as long as I’m invested enough in the relationship and my partner.

What is your favorite food to eat around Christmas?  I like anything my family prepares really, but I definitely go for lumpia first if I see a whole container of it.

Do the people in your town speak like rednecks?  No and I’m not sure if we have an equivalent for that here.

When was the last time you cried happy tears?  Like a week ago when the Permission to Dance video came out. The ending when everyone was taking off their masks and smiling was really heartwarming.

How liberal are you?  Enough to make most of my relatives uncomfortable.

Would you mind living near large predatory animals?  Yes. I’ve lived in gated villages all my life so it will take a lot of getting used to.

Have you ever experienced altitude sickness?  I don’t think so. The ‘worst’ I’ve experienced is just feeling pressure in my ears and having weakened hearing whenever we drive up mountains; it takes a while before mine do the popping thing and I get my normal hearing back.

What’s your biggest priority right now?  To be consistent at improving at my job and making fewer mistakes as I go. I shared this with my boss recently and she told me not to worry too much as I’m doing better than I think I am and that the mistakes I beat myself about have actually been small and fixable ones, but the perfectionist/workaholic in me just refuses to be reassured lol.

If you’ve stayed overnight in a hospital, how did you entertain yourself?  The last time this happened, public wi-fi was still mostly a myth so I had to contend with A LOT of forced napping just to make the time pass by. I didn’t have a phone either, so my experience was extremely dull and boring.

Are your hands unsteady?  They’re not surgeon-level stable but I think they’re fine for the most part.

Do you listen to a lot of mainstream music?  I used to until I got into BTS. I haven’t really listened to any other artist since getting into them back in April lol.

Do you think you’re pretty?  Some days.

Have you ever added someone you don’t know on Facebook?  Yeah, a few work contacts like bloggers whose names I recognized but have never talked to/engaged with.

Do you have dirty pictures in your phone?  Nope.

Have you ever looked up porn on the internet?  Yes. I have my on-and-off phases when it comes to porn though and these days I don’t watch a lot of it.

Would you ever shoot someone right in the face? In a case of self-defense where I was clearly trying to be killed, that's right where I would aim. But otherwise, of course I wouldn't. < Sounds about right. But holy shit that sounds like it would look so gross.

Have you ever sold drugs?  I’ve never been around drugs ever.

Did you ever try cutting yourself?  It was a coping mechanism many, many moons ago.

Who’s the last guy you texted?  It was a - surprise surprise - delivery guy who needed directions again to my house.

Who do you know that wears the most make up?  I’m not sure, but then again most people I know don’t really put on makeup these days because lol Covid and stay-at-home orders??

Do any of your friends have kids?  None of my friends do but I know several acquaintances and people from high school who’ve already given birth.

Have you ever been tied up?  Yeah.

How many times have you been cussed out?  Nearly everyday as a teenager.

Are you anyone’s first love?  I think?

Have you ever had an out-of-body experience?  Nope.

Do you have more than one personality?  Nope.

Do you prefer gory horror films or the psychological ones? Psychological ones for sure, but I don’t mind gore as well as long as it’s fun to watch and that it’s not too corny.

Do you have a favorite YouTuber or do you not watch much YouTube?  I haven’t watched a lot of YouTubers these days, but very recently I’ve been gravitating towards soothing vloggers like Anna Park and Mejiwoo. Their vlogs are greeeeaaaaat and I’m excited to discover similar creators so I can watch more videos that carry the same vibe.

Are you a good dancer?  I dance only when alone or when drunk. That said, I’m no good at all.

If you could find one long-lost friend of the past, who would it be?  Continued from yesterday. It’d be nice to reconnect with Raegan for like a day, just to catch up. Then again I’ve since been able to track her down on social media, so it’s nice to be able to see how she’s doing, at least from afar.

Was your sixth grade teacher a man or a woman? The teacher-in-charge of my section was a woman. They didn’t really appoint guy teachers to be TICs until recently.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled?  Yeah, but it had been a decayed tooth at that point that really needed to be pulled since it technically didn’t have a purpose anymore.

Do you wash your hair or your body first when taking a shower? Hair. 

Have you ever been to a nursing home?  I don’t think so.

Have you ever lived in a house that has been broken into?  Fortunately, no. My mom’s childhood home was robbed though, and their grand piano ended up being stolen :( To this day they have no clue how the thieves were able to pull it off without making too big of a fuss.

Is there someone in your life you don’t want in it?  I don’t think I dislike anyone that much at the moment.

How many different people of the opposite sex have you cried over?  Three. Two of them because they died, and the other one is my dad for the times we had to drive him to the airport though I only cried over it only as a kid. 

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?  Andi.

Has anyone ever told you they were in love with you?  Yes.

Pretending to “never get the text” from someone who annoys you. Is that you?  Not really. I reply, just not quickly enough.

If your ex came up to you and asked you to take them back, what would you say?  Honest to god I would probably be smug about it, and ask what led to the sudden change of mind. I’m doing too okay now to entertain the request though, so idk if I would agree to it or not because I’ve worked pretty hard to get here.

Do you prefer boys to shave down there? I wouldn’t know; I’ve never been with a guy before so I haven’t really had a chance to establish a preference.

How much does your mother know about your sex life (or lack thereof)? Nothing.

Do you enjoy watching cooking shows?  I have my moods. I prefer my cooking shows on YouTube, though.

Do you worry about gaining weight?  No.

Have you ever seen the movie A Walk to Remember? Cliche or worth watching?  Yeah the acting was so fucking cheesy the first 5 minutes the only thing left for me to do was gag. What’s one event your town has that you don’t like to participate in?  They don’t really organize stuff here, or if they do I never join them to begin with.

Are any of your siblings married? What are their spouses' names?  Nope. I know my sister doesn’t want to get married + I don’t speak to my brother, so I dunno if I’ll ever have any in-laws tbh.

Do you like being home alone or does it freak you out?  Well obviously I crave it these days, so it actually feels nice when everyone in the family has errands to run on the same day.

Did you lose friends when you started dating someone?  I lost Sofie, but I also blame college life for that loss.

Did you leave milk and cookies for Santa when you were little?  No.

To who did you last give the finger to?  I haven’t had to flip someone off in a while. I’m guessing just some stupid driver.

Do you talk in your sleep?  Nope. At least I have never been informed that I do.

Do you have a good relationship with your parents?  It’s civil enough for the house to stay quiet most days, but it’s nothing excellent.

Have you ever been a featured member on any website?  I don’t think so.

Do you feel that your previous relationships were a waste of time?  Yes.

Do you prefer hot chocolate with or without marshmallows?  Without. I HAAAAAATE marshmallows.

Which do you like better: Regular cakes or cookie cakes?  I never got the point of cookie cakes tbh lol.

Have you ever been hit by the opposite sex?  No.

If your significant other cheated on you, would you take them back?  I know I definitely have the capacity to be dumb enough to do this, but it would also depend on how invested I am in the person.

What was the last song you listened to?  I'm currently listening to a slowed down version of Jungkook’s cover of Biebs’ 2U. 4 AM things.

What do you look for most in a friendship?  I’ve answered this question on a previous survey, same with a few of the following questions.

[theonceoverthinker]

I don’t know what your rules are for these so I apologize in advance but I lowkey just,,like if there was a reading version binged watched I did that with your fair game hcs. I just couldn’t stop myself. Tho I had question.How do you view clovers semblance and like his history with it? I’ve seen a lot with how he never got credit because of it but I also read a really interesting one where his good luck was only for him. Meaning if he got lucky because others got hurt,it would work out.Thoughts?

119. The one where Jenna gives this anon a semb-CHANCE!

First off, thank you for your patience throughout these many, many months as well as your binge read of my HC’s! When people do that and tell me, it just lights up my world! Second, I want to apologize for how long this took. I am very sorry for this extended wait for this HC. Honestly, these HCs are seldom planned, and sometimes, what you want to write and what your mind is letting you write are vastly different things. But with today’s theme lining up with this ask and given that I had more time today to dedicate to it, I wanted to try to finally deliver it onto you in order to make up for the wait! Btw, tagging @fair-game-week !

With that all out of the way, let’s get to it!

Part of why this HC was so difficult to write comes down to the fact that there are so many great already existing HC’s about Clover’s relationship to his semblance, and I love them all, and I wanted to create a take that didn’t feel like it completely copied off someone else, and that I could add enough of my own spin to it. 

I love crying at ones where Clover holds resentment towards his semblances – ones where Clover’s luck only applies to him and may have let him survive in circumstances where his family and friends could not, ones where Clover’s had to fight for credit for his every victory on the basis of his own merits, ones where his team neglected his well being because of his semblance, and others of that ilk!

But I also love ones where Clover is just a well-adjusted adult who had a decent family life, and was able to figure out how to best handle a very fortunate, albeit situationally tricky, semblance because while it’s very simple, it allows for complexity to come to Clover as he Qrow compare their incredibly different lives. There’s compelling drama there, too.

Ultimately, though, here’s what I landed on…which you can see under the cut because this ran long!

I think Clover stumbled upon his semblance at a relatively young age (10, maybe). When it happened, things were good for the first few years. Those in his life embraced his semblance, and he was happy. After all, even if his semblance lacked control like Qrow’s did, he didn’t really have enemies who would benefit from good luck at his expense, so there wasn’t all that much negative to deal with.

But then somewhere around age 13-16, things changed. Clover’s a very talented, smart, and chipper guy, and I think that while Clover was never a jerk about his semblance (Or at least not to any harmful degree), there were a lot of teenagers that would be intimidated by someone who seemed so perfect (I know I’d have been back then – heck, jealousy is something I’m still working on). So when he was a teenager, some jerk in his class brought up the idea that Clover’s semblance was the reason for all his successes after one too many of Clover’s accomplishments made them jealous. And because high school (Or Atlas’ equivalent of high school) is literal hell, that sentiment quickly spread. 

From there, suddenly no one held positive feelings towards his semblance. His peers were no longer all that impressed with his accomplishments. Teachers gave him dirty looks after he scored well on a test the rest of his classmates did poorly on. Coaches felt reluctant to feature Clover in sports. 

But no one thought more negatively about Clover’s semblance than Clover himself. Heck, some harsh realities of Clover’s life that he never thought too hard on or ever thought to blame his semblance for might come to light. For a while, he was ashamed of his semblance, and renounced it at every turn. It’s possible he sabotaged or handicapped himself to find some way of showing those around him that he could fail, and that his successes were his own. But it didn’t work. 

Clover started to lose hope that anyone would trust him to be anything more than just the product of a not-so-lucky lucky semblance, and it seemed like all hope for a successful life  was truly his was gone (Also, note to self: Make a Clover and Weiss’ friendship HC one of these days). He began to believe that as long as he had his semblance holding him back, any dream that he could dare to want for himself would never be a reality. 

One day though, something happened to his perspective – the Atlesian Military. I don’t really know how to say this in any way that softens the blow, but I feel like – in keeping with RWBY’s theme of the military being…in need of reforms, to say the least – Clover was basically propaganda’d into not only joining it, but liking his semblance. Just like it was able to appeal to Winter, the girl who desperately wanted an escape from her horrible and powerful father, it was able to appeal to the boy with semblance trust issues by presenting him with a very specific image. That was one of an organization that only allowed those who entered it to rise through the ranks on the basis of their own merits while also not being pressured to hate himself over the benefits that his semblance provided him with because whatever he did would be for the public good, and that’s something that really stuck with Clover. It’s entirely possible that James was one of the recruiters that inspired him too, thus making more sense of the “I trust James with my life” sentiment than 7X12 could’ve ever hoped to have. XD 

From then on, Clover’s resolve on his situation took on a new shape, one that didn’t dismiss his semblance, but allowed for him to live with it. He ignored his bullies and those wary of his true abilities, and instead took pride in the now dream job he aspired to have in the military and the belief that those he had met seemed to have in him. And with that new lack of cares given, Clover was able to reignite his own love for his semblance as well as his confidence that his accomplishments were his own even with it, allowing him the strength and freedom needed to learn to better handle and channel his semblance. 

Now, when Clover left the military, he definitely had to confront his insecurities over his semblance again because he needed to define that relationship without the military there as a means to bridge that gap. 

And I think this is where Qrow comes in, pointing out (In much less sappy terms than I’m about to use) how Clover’s skills still can’t only be contributed to his semblance and those in his life know that, and that while perhaps his semblance did play a part in some ethically precarious circumstances, but it was he who made the decision to leave at the end of the day and strive for something better for both himself and the world at large. Clover absolutely calls Qrow his lucky charm afterwards, and flirting and touching hands and shoulders ensue as the extended team goes to their next location.

…WOW, was that a lot! Fair Game Week, you’ve met your match! XD

Tagging @homokinetic @skybird13 @whipped4qrow @mooksie01 @luck-of-the-caw @xwildangel @solitude-of-stars @magneto-is-neato @o0nashipear0o @unfairgamey @doctorrwby @clover-and-co @megan-atthedisco @wash-my-brain @bisexualdisasterqrow @baelonthebrave @doubledexterity @rwby-things-i-guess @atlas-heartthrob @the-answer-was-bi-klance @compoterie @thuskindlyiboop @oceansquid @transdemion @deltastream21 @mimiori @xya-hunter @delta-altair @genderfluidturtle @roman-torchtwink @subatomictealeaves @drbtinglecannon @saphiralunaris @pretentiouskneecaps @lonelybeep @lemonflavoredpanicattacks

Want to be tagged in future Fair Game HC’s? Of course, you do! So, send me a reply, PM, or ask to be added, and I’ll grant your greatest wish! XD