sometimes it's just interesting to know what is being said okay

petrichordiak  asked:

can i hear more about the class you hijacked? (this doesnt have to be private)

I actually got out of bed just so I could go full rant about this on my  computer, so y’all buckle up (thank you for giving me this opportunity lololol)

Okay, so this happened about a year, maybe a year and a half ago. I’m gonna go ahead and make this one public for the benefit of those that didn’t follow me back then, if that’s cool.

Let me preface this by saying that I had taken literally every one of the professor’s classes before then. Partly because they were the only anthropology style class the uni offered, and partly because halfway through the second class I realized that literally everything was the same, except the books, which we never used. Even the assignments were the same, and I had perfected a system of how to do those quickly, easily, and last-minute, lol. So it was pretty much the definition of an easy A, and the prof liked me bc I was nice, actually listened to her even though I’d heard it all before, and didn’t rat her ass out for not actually teaching what she was supposed to, lol.

I should’ve known right there.

So when there was an opportunity to take a Native Americans in North America class with her, I jumped on it. I needed the hours, I obviously knew a lot on the subject already, and it would be another easy a, if history was anything to go by. 

It became one of the most frustrating classes I have ever taken.

As always, the class started the same as the others. We started out learning about vocab and models. NBD, we’d get to specifics eventually, right?

Now there are about 16 to 18 weeks in your average semester.

By week 6 we had yet to learn anything about Native history. She’d assigned some reading about the moundbuilder’s archeological sites, but nothing about the modern day. Maybe she was just taking it slow, I thought, though I was bothered by her only talking about Natives in the past tense. But she’d told me in the first class I’d taken with her (years ago by now) that she was enrolled Native, so I didn’t call it out immediately. 

We get to week 8, halfway through the semester, she hadn’t covered anything. No mention of treaties, modern movements for civil rights, AIM (American Indian Movement), the illegal overthrow of Hawai’i, buffalo kill offs, smallpox blankets, Chicago museum’s bullshit, NAGPRA (a law protecting grave sites and demanding the return of remains to their Nation by museums and sites, if the Nation will accept them (sometimes they allow the remains to be housed by the museum bc they’re typically more secure there, but that’s very rare)) beyond how it affected archeologists, the different regions, the language families, ghost dance, the flooding of lands by companies illegally, human zoos, RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS, THE FUCKING TRAIL OF TEARS, NOTHING.

Like your 4th grade history segment, as racist as it probably was, probably was more informative than this bitch was being, okay? And I was getting mad. Y’all know me. Native activism is a huge part of my life, and has been for years. Students were being allowed to say really racist shit unchecked. The prof wasn’t teaching jack. Misinformation was being spread, even by the prof.

It felt like even in a class dedicated to us, we didn’t matter. Our history didn’t matter. 

I was fed up.

Then, she pissed me the absolute fuck off. She proceeded to spend the rest of the class talking about South America.

Now, our Indigenous family below the equator absolutely deserve to be discussed. They have so many issues that really, really need to be boosted and respected. We do not raise their voices often enough. But this was a class specifically about North America, and her reasoning for making it otherwise was racist in so many ways.

First, she changed the curriculum outside of its scope because she was “MORE INTERESTED IN SOUTH AMERICA, AND WOULD HAVE TO DO RESEARCH TO TALK ABOUT” the issues I was publicly demanding to know when she would cover. As if her personal interest and ignorance were more important than our lives. 

(side note, it turns out she was lying about being enrolled and Native. Her white supremacist brother (not even kidding) had said that a Cherokee woman chief in Minnesota or some shit had enrolled them. I asked her if she meant Wilma Mankiller, the first modern female Cherokee chief. She said no, it was someone else, and in the late nineties, after Wilma would’ve no longer been Chief. I publicly called her out, and even another student jumped in to help, because there was no other woman Chief then, and there was no recognized Nation that far North. Her white supremacist brother had lied bc he felt othered while working near the Din’e on a job site, bc they didn’t include his racist ass, lol. So she’d lied her way into being allowed to teach a class she didn’t even know or care about. So at this point, I was fucking done with her, lol)

She also was showing us old propaganda films, and literally every group she discussed was being painted as ignorant, warlike savages by her and the materials. She even defended a man that intentionally exposed Indigenous peoples with no immunity to certain diseases to said diseases ‘just to see what would happen.’ She recommended his books, including ‘Noble Savages’ to us. I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s racist, lmao.

All of this is to say that I was VERY fed up, she (and the class) was VERY racist, and she was going down.

Then her foolish self decided to assign a massive project where we were supposed to ‘teach the class’ about a Native subject (y i k e s, esp. since the class was full of non-Natives). Since I was Fed Up, I decided to skip the usual schooling on cultural appropriation to instead teach everyone (including her) about just a smattering of the important things she hadn’t even mentioned in passing. :)

What followed was a 33 page powerpoint.

Apologies for any inaccuracies, and blanket tw for slurs, racism, death, csa, torture, child abuse, etc etc etc

(I added all the regalia pics bc they made me happy and calmed me down, which I was gonna need. I set the presentation up as “Man, I sure had trouble deciding what to make my presentation about. Should I talk about X? Y? Z? This? That? This? And so on until I reached residential schools and Reconciliation as my discussion topic.)

I hope those gifs work. If not, they should be under my “Oka Crisis” tag, or “n i fn a history” and “n i fn a protests” tags. I also had decided early to use the Nations actual names where possible.

Oh look, a quick and easy way to make people realize THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T FUCKING REFER TO US AS SLURS, and here’s how to discuss the issue without being additionally harmful.

OH LOOK, SOURCES

#FreeLeonardPeltier

Getting progressively angrier at this point. The class is smart enough to stay silent.

#MMIW #NoMoreStolenSisters. Please bring them home. Whatever it takes.

Stayed on this slide juuust long enough to stare each person in class down.

Oh look, we’re finally hitting my actual topic. Again, shit’s about to get very heavy. Please read only if you can. I will not be glancing over these to check them rn, bc I can’t. I’m sharing just for y’all to see, and hopefully reblog to educate people.

I honestly wept as I worked on this part. I can’t read it again.

Calling it out.

AYUP. Canadians are so nice and their government isn’t problematic at all

There are survivors that are my age, and younger.

Not letting them forget that this isn’t just in the past. It still wounds us.

It still hurts. We’re still recovering.

I included resources for them, including the prof, to actually educate themselves, since our school sure as shit wasn’t going to do it.

A handful of my sources.

Anyways. I was done. So fucking done. She (the prof) still tried to guide the class back and pretend that it was acceptable that she hadn’t taught them anything. I didn’t let her. I reminded them all that the only reason that this was Canada focused was bc they’d just had the Truth and Reconciliation reports, whereas the US government hasn’t put any effort into assembling data on their atrocities. Go figure.

Anyways, happy #Canada150 everybody :)

OK to reblog.

Side to Side

Pairing: Tom Holland!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2465

Warning(s): Some swear words, slight smut (Nothing crazy but it goes there)

Requests: I have like 10 followers so like none of you pay attention to me (jk jk you guys are cool)

Song: Side to Side  (duh) by Ariana Grande

Author’s Note: This is kinda crap but I’m totally obsessed with Tom Holland and Spider-Man Homecoming so come on this wild ride and be trash with me! Give me feedback please I promise I’ll get to it in like 10 years

Summary: Reader and Peter (slant rhyme woo) are friends and both on the Avengers. They’re training in the gym and things get s t e a m y…

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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flirting in french; god, how i would love to be smooth in any language. i’d like to think this is pretty important - as this is part of socializing in any language. flirtation is a very different thing than “picking up.” picking up is a kind of hunting game with a very pointed and invariable goal. flirtation, at least in france, is a totally different thing. it’s a different culture, a different lifestyle. it’s a way of being in everyday life, and unlike picking up, it has no defined goal. sometimes the french flirt because it’s just delightful to do so. think salt to pepper relationship. allowing each one to check, and at different levels, if he or she still has some charm operating. 

i would say that simple is always best: merely walk up to your chosen girl or guy and say je vous trouve absolument charmante, or i find you absolutely charming / beautiful. be classy and to the point. with that and mind, read on!

so; why flirt in french?

  • well, french is a sexy language. not going to lie. 
  • it’s the planet’s most-hyped language of love.
  • reaching that level of fluency feels amazing.
  • it gives you that confidence. social confidence.
  • helps to develop communication skills. 

french learning and french flirting 

  • let’s face it: in france, (or in any country for that matter), nobody speaks like a textbook, the president, or a language learning site (i’m looking at you, duolingo). it’s great for memorizing the fundamentals, but lacks that extra step that stands between you and complete fluency. 
  • flirting is part of socializing - and linguistically (i don’t know, it helped with me) it improves retention. it’s also just interesting to learn! 
  • flirting is just well.. fun. even if it doesn’t go anywhere.
  • a bit of verbal charm isn’t always necessary : but in my opinion, it helps you sound more natural / at ease / friendly. 
  • i somewhat lack verbal charm (i’m very, very awkward in social situations) so i probably need this masterpost as much as anyone else (: 

the classics: make love last. 
this is based upon what i’ve heard at school / restaurants / bars. 
okay fine: it’s based on the movies i’ve watched too. 

  • j’ai envie de t’embrasser / embrasse-moi - kiss me.. annouce it - make your intentions known! i’d like to kiss you’ - okay, you could just kiss someone instead of letting them know. but i don’t know.. there’s something romantic about it? best with a longing, meaningful stare. 
  • je t’aime: i’m pretty sure we all know this one. best with someone you care deeply for, i wouldn’t say this on a first date - but if you’re the direct type : this can help you get from a to z pretty quickly. 

the simple compliments
using these with a flirty look / tone of voice  can do wonders. play with your expression while practicing these: it makes a difference, trust me. t’es toujours canon toi ou quoi?

you can also add trop ( = too). example: trop belle, trop mignon(ne).
you can also add tellement ( = so) example: t’es tellement belle!
you can also add si ( = so) example: t’es si mignonne.
you can also use grave ( = totally) example: t’es grave belle. 

  • t’es mignon(ne).
  • t’es belle (/beau), toi. 
  • t’es canon. ( = you’re smoking hot). 
  • t’es con. ( = you’re an idiot) - i’ve seen this used a lot flirtatiously.
  • t’es drôle. ( = you’re funny)
  • t’es magnifique. 
  • t’es charmant(e). 
  • t'es coquin / coquine! ( = you’re such a tease.)

the ‘social and the flirty’ 
these can be used as compliments / or flirtatiously. depends on your relationship with the person you’re giving them to. 

  • cette beauté chaton, tu m’ éblouie. ( = you dazzle me with your beauty.)
  • une beauté divine. ( = a divine beauty or: you’re so divine.)
  • ouloulouloulouloulou. ( = you really have to hear this one.)
  • tu brilles de mille feux.
  • j'te pécho. ( = like the equivalent of ‘to pick up someone’ in english). 
  • bg, or beau / belle gosse ( = hot guy, hot girl). 
  • une petite merveille. ( = a wonder, someone to be marveled at). 
  • une bombe. ( = bombshell, someone pretty - same thing as ‘belle gosse’.)
  • le petit côté mystérieux femme fatale je kiffe. - je kiffe means i like. 
  • la beauté à l état pur ( = beauty at its purest form). 
  • dingue! ( = crazy, as in crazy beautiful). 
  • j'ai pas les mots.( = i have no words). 
  • wahhh, la classe! ( = classy!)
  • c’est fou, tant de beauté ( = you’re so beautiful, it’s crazy.)

flirting at a bar or restaurant? 

  • t’as d’beaux yeux, tu sais? the phrase ‘you’ve got beautiful eyes’ pretty much works in any language (though, i think it sounds extra gorgeous in french). the phrase actually comes from a french film called le quai des brumes. fair warning: this is an extreme cliché, : it’s basically the english equivalent of do you come here often? it can be said ironically, if you’re not the cliché type.  
  • je peux t’offrir / vous (formal) un verre ? : can i buy you a drink?
  • vous êtes célibataire ? mais comment est-ce possible ? - you’re single? but how’s that possible? 
  • vous venez souvent ici ? - do you come here often? classic.  a phrase that transcends cultural barriers: “ the sentence could be followed up by complaints — about the bartender, about the clients or about how the bar isn’t as good as it used to be. a french tradition is râler, a sort of complaining. finding things to complain about is a way that many french people choose to bond with new acquaintances. this is not true of anyone.
  • t’as une miette (you’ve got a crumb) as you pretend to stroke something off of someone’s face, first with your fingers, then with your lips.
  • tu m’excites ! ( = you turn me on.)
  • “j’ai une première édition de ‘à la recherche du temps perdu.’ tu veux le voir ?” -  i have the first edition of “in search of lost time. (written by proust). do you want to see it?” in france (for me, at least) cultural knowledge is sexy. in America, we often ask if you’d like a nightcap. choose something cultural and intellectual in france, and you’re far more likely to get a oui.
  • je veux te revoir. ( = i want to see you again.) 
  • quoi de beau? ( = how you doin’ - joey, friends.)
  • excuse-moi. est-ce que t’embrasses les inconnus ? non ? donc, je me présente. excuse me, do you kiss strangers? No? then let me introduce myself.
  • excuse-moi, j'ai perdu mon numero de téléphone. est-ce que je peux t'emprunter le tien?“ excuse me, i seem to have lost my phone number. could I borrow yours? 

let me know if you’d like to know more! you can never be too charming.

Camren 2017: They’re So Obvi

Okay. First let me apologize for the delay in getting this theory out to you guys. The last few days have been crazy busy. Secondly…grab a bowl of popcorn and warm cup of tea…this is going to get interesting. I’m sure the skeptics will try to refute any and all evidence I am going to provide in this post. So, “screw you in advance. don’t like it? don’t agree? ignore it. please don’t insult me or my fellow munchkins”. Now that all the preliminary stuff is out of the way…

Camren is alive in 2017. I believe that Lauren and Camila are not only on good terms but also seeing each other on the low again. Crazy right? Hard to believe, I know but the evidence I’ve gathered has me convinced. I’ll start with the release of Camila’s CITC and IHQ video and single. Camila released her debut single CITC on May 19th…two days before on the 17th I came across this photo…

I’m not sure if she followed the Camren account on the 17th or if she followed them along time ago, but I think it was recent. It showed up in my recent suggested likes and posted the same day I found it.
Then on the 19th, the day CITC was released, a photo of Lauren was posted to a stylist IG wearing a wig with bangs…

Not a big deal for most. But my delusional triggered camren mind sees the wig with bangs as a nod to Camila and the release of her single and her new hairdo. I get it. I’m reaching super far with that one right? Well when was the last time we saw Lauren with bangs in a photo? (where she wasn’t a toddler) And the photo happens to post the day Camila’s first single debuts? Coincidence? If you’ve been in this fandom long enough you know that word doesn’t exist.  On May 16th before the picture of Mani following the Manip Squad surfaced and before the Lauren wig pic posted another screenshot surfaced. 

…on the 16th Camila posted some snippets from her music video and supposedly Lauren liked the video. Speculation says that Mila deleted the third video clip because Lauren “accidentally” liked the video. 😏 we know how Lauren likes to accidentally like things…funny how her likes are only accidental when it comes to Mila. Camila is well into her press tour for both her new singles and on the 19th of May after the successful debut of CITC, Mila did an interview with Power 106 FM…

https://youtu.be/4M95O9N_lyw  (link to interview)

in the interview she clarifies the interviewer that her album is NOT about boys…now I know that can be interpreted many ways. But if you’re singing about experiences and relationships and you say the album isn’t about boys (I’m sure she will discuss some 5H things but not for the entire album) then who is the album about Mila? Sorry to inform your representatives…but I think your gay is showing. 

Okay, still hanging in there with me? Excellent. Let’s keep going. On May 21st, Camila made her solo performance debut performing IHQ and CITC at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards…she killed both performances. 😩🙌 Anyway…some of her red carpet photos surfaced and there are some inexplicable scratches on her arms that kind of look like they could have come from a dog or cat.  And who recently got a puppy named Leo? Lauren, that’s who. And who also has a dog named Leo? Camila, that’s who. Lauren was definitely around when Camila got Leo so I’m sure she knew what naming her dog Leo would do to this “delusional” fandom of ours. Don’t believe me about the scratches? Check out the photo.

Now some poor overly dramatic souls speculated that Mila was self harming…😒 smh. Sometimes this fandom is just too much. They are clearly scratch marks from a small animal. Also, since we’re the talking about the BBMAs, MGK and Halsey were there looking very close and cuddly and “coupley”. And I think its very funny that they are both VERY CLOSE to both halves of Camren. I mean come on…do you really think they don’t have the tea? MGK refers to Mila as his sister and Halsey is a die hard Lauren supporter and fan. The pair (halsey and lauren) have gotten super close recently after their collaborative project of Strangers. Which is a bop and I fall in love with it more and more every time I hear it. I feel like with MGK and Halsey being as close to Camila and Lauren as they are if the two (camren) weren’t getting along wouldn’t that cause issues with MGK and Halsey too? Ever hated someone your best friend or significant other like? It will definitely cause tensions to rise. I just want MGK and Halsey to spill all the tea about their double dates with Camren LLS…since Lauren spilled the tea all over Halsey’s carpet its only fair she return the favor…😂😏.

Then on the 27th of May like clock work….Ty$ and Lucy came through to distract us. Ty$ liked a provocative pic of Lauren’s… You guys know the one😏. And Lauren went like crazy on his page too. I wasn’t surprised or derailed by the interaction seeing as how all signs have been pointing to camren since a couple days before the release of Mila’s debut single. Then…supposedly Lucy did an IG live where she was asked to stick out her tongue if Camren was real…or something like that. And she did. 😮 Now I did not witness her doing it. But I have a screenshot of the request and Lucy responding with her tongue out 😜

…but again. I can’t confirm if it happened exactly like that because I did not see the video myself.  

With all that being said. I can say that I am thoroughly convinced Camren is alive and well in 2017. I’m sure I missed a ton of stuff as my personal life has been kind of hectic over the last month or so. But May has rewarded us for sure with Camren indirects/proof. Let me hear your thoughts? Do you agree? Why? Do you disagree? Keep it respectful but tell me why. Did I miss something? Help me fill in the blanks. I hope this theory wasn’t disappointing or too far fetched. I’m just relaying my thoughts on the current Camren situation. Don’t be distracted by Mila’s hetero narrative or Lauren’s PR BS RS…lol. Nothing can Kill Camren. Its the cockroach of Relationships. Their connection will exist long after the nuclear holocaust and Zombie apocalypse. 😂😂 IT’S CAMREN YO!!!

PSS: FOR SOME REASON ALL THE PHOTOS AREN’T SHOWING ON MOBILE DEVICES. SO I SUGGEST READING THIS POST ON THE COMPUTER SO YOU CAN SEE ALLTHE JUICY DETAILS. 😘
Under the Table Favours

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: SMUT!!! PUBLIC SEXUAL ACTS!!!

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Hogsmeade was quiet this afternoon, an ideal spot to squeeze in a bit of study with your best friend. You had secured a booth in the back of The Three Broomsticks, where you knew no one would bother you. Remus gave you a light smile as he placed down the two large mugs of hot cocoa, overflowing with already-melting marshmallows.

“Look who’s here.” You pointed out Sirius and James as they shared some Butterbeer together by the window. You took a long sip from the delicious drink as you watched Remus wave to his friends, you doing the same.

Remus turned back to face you, his smile widening as he let out an amused chortle.

“What?” You frowned. “Something on my face?” You wiped around your mouth, just barely missing the marshmallow fluff that had stuck to your upper lip.

“Here.” Remus said, easily snatching up the contents with his thumb. He held it out for you, and watched as you put your mouth over his finger. Remus’ heart began to hammer in his chest at the sight; your lips perfectly puckered around his thumb, humming contently as you sucked the morsel from his skin. His breath hitched as your eyes fluttered back open, leaving him with your sweet smile and a wettened thumb.

“Thanks.” You grinned innocently, lifting your mug back up to your lips. You quickly finished the warm beverage, already standing to get another. “I’ll be back.”

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romidant-diarmi  asked:

Since it's on it's way: imagine having to explain April Fool's Day and/or the concept of pranking one's friends for the sake of amusement. Like, maybe the aliens understand setting something up in regards to honing reflexes or something, but things like whoopee cushions and complex Rube Goldberg machines to fling shaving cream at someone just baffle them. Also the concept of a prank war in space is just amusing.

Thrnawxh watched in confusion as Human Frankie attached some sort of transparent film to the entryway, snickering to themself and occasionally looking over their shoulder as if fearing they were being watched. It put Thrnawxh ‘on edge’ as the humans would say.

In xir experience, if a human was worried, anyone else ought to be terrified.

Eventually, xir worry won out, causing xem to ask what Human Frankie was doing.

“It’s the first day of April.” Human Frankie said, baring their teeth in a show of either aggression, or bizarrely enough pleasure. Usually Thrnawxh would be able to guess which one it was based on a human’s statement, but this one made no sense.

“Also known as April Fool’s day, and oh boy does Sara got something coming for her.” Frankie continued, apparently having no idea that xe didn’t understand their explanation. What’s worse was that Human Sara apparently had something hunting them.

“And this device will stop Human Sara’s would-be attackers?” Xe asked, not sure how that would work, but xe had seen humans accomplish much more demanding things with seemingly worse odds.

“No, no what I meant is that Sara doesn’t-” they began before pausing, seemingly to reconsider whatever they were going to say. “You remember when I explained human humour to you, right?”

“Yes, when I believed you were ill because of your stomach contracting while you looked at an oddly shaped root vegetable.”  Thrnawxh confirmed, not seeing the relevance.

“Great. So this is a joke. I’m going to play a prank on Sara, because it’s April’s Fool’s day.” They said, though some of the words didn’t seem to translate well or at all to xir native language.

“I do not understand,” xe said, looking up at them in a way xe hoped Human Frankie would realise was questioning. Xir hopes were however not high.

“Shit, right okay. Erm. So a prank is a trick - you know what a trick is, right? Good. It’s a trick that you pull on someone because it’s funny, or like today, because it’s tradition. Sometimes they’re mean, but unless you’re a dickhead, they’re just funny. Like… shoving a pie in someone’s face, or pulling cellophane across the doorway and having them walk into it. Just, harmless fun, you know? And April Fool’s day is the first day of April - that’s one of our months; one of the sub-parts we divide the time it takes for our home planet to orbit the sun into. So it’s the first day of that sub-part, and it’s tradition to prank people.” Human Frankie explained, giving a small nod when they were done as if confirming what they’d just said.

“Why?” Xe asked, getting only a shrug in return - a signal of uncertainty or non-commitment. “What purpose does it serve?”

“Oh, no no purpose. I mean, maybe it did at one time? Superstition or what ever, but it’s just fun.” Human Frankie said before delving into a story of a prank they and a friend did on an authoritarian learning monitor when they were younger.

The story itself was interesting, though Thrnawxh was hardly able to focus when xe had so much new information to process about human behaviour.

Xe certainly had a lot left to learn.

Vow

*swamped with homework and feelings and managed to shell this out a month late…I’m a mess™*

Request:  Hii can i have a drabble thingy game with jimin?TY😙😉 12,23 by  rebelliousjvmin

Word Count: 8.6k

Originally posted by bwipsul

He’s a literal angel


You were immersed in a deep sleep, tired from working on a large project that was worth half your grade. In you attempt to disconnect from the world around and sleep peacefully, you blocked out the sounds and all touch with reality. The sudden dip in your bed didn’t bother you, the presence of another body and an arm haphazardly wrapping around you, these were things you were blocking out. Until you felt a finger on your cheek.

“Hey, roomie.”

“I hate you.”

“You know you love me.”

“Kiss my ass, Jimin.” You used to think you were lucky to be paired up with your best friend in the dorms of your university. Until you realized he was a clingy, sassy and messy guy that never failed to annoy you. His leisure attitude towards school was opposite to your dedication to reading every word of your textbook. He was a jock, baseball being the reason he was here in your room and cheekily smiling at you.  

“I wouldn’t mind doing that.” You whacked him in the face with your pillow, wanting him to leave your room but he instead pulled you closer against his chest.

“Let go of me, you pervert.”

“You told me to kiss your ass, now…”

“I swear to god, Jimin, I’ll suffocate you in your sleep.”

“Kinky. I always wanted to test out breath play.”

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And All This Devotion (1/1)

Happy Valentine’s Day, @once-upon-a-captain-swan!

Hi, dollface! I’m your CSSV and had so much fun writing this for you. I’ve enjoyed our little chats over the last few weeks and I hope you enjoy the story. I tried to put as many little touches of you in it as I could. 

xoxo,

Megan

****

The knock came at 2:05. It was tentative, barely pulling Killian out of a dreamless sleep and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. Fuzzy-brained, he was a second away from chalking it up to a rattling pipe or noise from the street when another knock came, this one more insistent. 

Tossing the covers off and cursing as he kicked his feet free from the tangled sheet, he padded through the living room, throwing the deadbolt and dramatically pulling the door open, ready to give his untimely visitor hell while wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs and a scowl.

The piss and vinegar was short-lived when his eyes fell onto the figure standing in the hallway. 

Her face was red and blotchy with strands of blonde hair sticking to tear tracks. A cheap diaper bag, stretched to the limits and overflowing, was slung over her shoulder, one of those infant car seats designed for carrying at her feet, the baby inside asleep. 

Chin lifting just enough to convey some measure of pride, her eyes wouldn’t rise enough meet his. When she spoke it was to the dog tags resting on his chest.

“We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

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off limits | 05 (m)

pairing: kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst
words: 9,221
summary: you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

 » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 

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How to learn foreign languages

Hello, guys!

I`ve said before I`m interested in foreign languages. I learn English and Italian only but I hope one day this list will get bigger. So, I wanted to share my experience in learning languages with you all.

At first. If you are not very organized (i am)  it will be good for you to find a school of foreign languages or a teacher.  As to me I prefer to study with a group. This way you can practice your speaking skills not only with your teacher but also with people whose knowledge is the same as yours. Better to study with people your age. So, my English group consists of three 16 year olds (I`m 16 too), Italian: 18 year old and 24 year old girls.  I feel myself okay with them all. 

Doesn`t matter if you have classes with teacher / group or learn language yourself you can use all of these tips to improve your skills.

To know any language well you have to be good at 4 things:


                              ○ Listening

                             ○ Speaking

                             ○ Reading

                             ○ Writing


Let`s talk about all of them.

Listening.  You need to listen and understand what you`re listening to. How to do this?

              • Watch films, tv shows, youtube videos, cartoons in the language you learn with subtitles. For example you start with subs in your native language, watch, listen, read subs and try to ‘connect’ them. When your skills will get better watch with subs in this language, to understand written text is easier than just speech. Also you will know how some words are pronounced.

              (I think everybody knows English speaking Youtubers or at least it`s not difficult to find them, what I can`t say about other languages. So I made two playlist of Italian and RussianYoutubers I like. Check it out if you learn one of them.)

              • Music. When 2 years ago I became interested in English I started with this. I was listening to the song while reading its lyrics in English, then in Russian, than in English and in Russian again. Repeat it hundreds of times. Or at least just listen to music in this language.

              • Audiobooks and podcasts.  You can just listen to them like podcasts or listen while you are reading (the same book of course). Almost the same thing like watching films with subtitles. You can find original book or adapted for your level.  

              • Exercises.  Buy a book or find on the internet listening exercises for your language and do it.

Speaking.  It`s quiet easy. Just speak.

              • With yourself, oh how many time I did it and heard that my friends had done it too. In the car, at home, etc. You can record it for the memory or to listen it later and find your own mistakes. It`s okay, if you are alone now, speak with yourself.

              • If you have a friend who learns the same language offer him/her to speak this language always or just sometimes.

              • If your lever is good start a channel on Youtube.  You will have to speak really a lot. There`s no other way, your speaking will get really better.

 

Reading.  

              • Learn lots of words. To know the language fluently you have to know many words.  So, develop your vocabulary.

              • Read and translate quotes, phrases and so on. It is not hard to open Tumblr/twitter/etc. and read some but it is helpful.  

              • Books, stories, fan fictions, blogs, etc. Just read a lot.

Writing. (spelling)

              • To improve your spelling just rewrite texts of your level. You can find more here.

              • Do lots of exercises. As I have already said you can buy a book or find them on the internet.

               so, i hope some of these tips i know will help ypu to achieve the success. 


(and i wanna thank my sister for being my ‘model’. follow her instagram!)

Goth and Identity

So its been a while since i last blogged about goth, but sure enough i have discovered something within the subculture that has again left me torn between multiple sides. I’m talking about issues pertaining to identity. Identity is something very personal to each and every individual and it seems that a lot of people are again choosing sides when it comes to identity and how goths identify with the subculture.

Today i want to discuss these sides and where i stand between them. I also want to discuss some of the good and bad of having each of these minds sets about identity.

To begin, i want to discuss the goths who try too hard. So you’re one of us who really enjoys and cares about the subculture. You love the music, you also might be really into the fashion and it shows. But sometimes you might go overboard. I’m talking about the goths who get so caught up in being goth and proving just how goth they are that they almost miss the point of it. They let goth dictate their lives so much that they sometimes suppress parts of themselves that they feel make them less goth. This is not a good way to be. Of course there are goths out there that naturally love goth so much that it seems like they go out of their way to express it, and that’s fine. Its the goths that force themselves into tiny boxes and actually go out of their way to express it who are in trouble.

Say for instance you like goth music but Bauhaus isn’t really your taste, but you feel pressure to listen to them and make yourself like them because you think that it will make you more goth or that other goths will dislike you if you don’t. This is toxic and the only one you’re hurting is you. You don’t need to like every goth band just like you don’t need to backcomb your hair or wear authentic winklepickers to be goth. This is where people let goth get in the way of their own identities. Sure in order to be goth, you should probably know certain bands and care about the subculture, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop watching Steven Universe or throw away all your unicorn plushies just because those things aren’t stereotypically goth.

Goth is a label for people to identify with. Its not meant to rule your entire life. Ive said it before and I’ll say it again goths don’t like the things they like because they’re goth, they are goth because they naturally like those things. This does not mean you have to abandon all the other things you like just because those other things aren’t goth, this also means that you don’t have to like every aspect of the subculture to be a part of it.

Now moving on to another side of the subculture that has sort of a different way of looking at goth and identity, I’m going to call these people the “Goth is Goth type” These are the goths who believe that goth is simply a one word label and that substyles of goth are pointless or negative.

Now if you’ve been in the subculture for a while you probably already know that goth has multiple substyles and these substyles didn’t really start popping up until after the 80′s. Before then there was just goth and all it took to be goth was listening to goth music. So its understandable that most of these “Goth is Goth types” are elder goths who were around before goth started breaking off into substyles.

Many of these “Goth is Goth types” argue that substyles are nothing more than superficial fashion genres and that substyles automatically restrict you to a little box. What they mean when they say “goth is goth” is that it doesn’t matter how you dress, if you’re goth you’re goth and you shouldn’t let a substyle get in the way and dictate how you should express yourself through goth. And to an extent, i do understand this. I do understand where these goths are coming from. But i don’t think these goths are really taking the time to analyze it even further.

There are goths out there that dress in multiple substyles but there are goths out there that dress in only one or two. And some of these goths dress in a particular style, not simply for superficial reasons but because that style actually reflects their own identity. For example, there are some goths who call themselves Victorian goths and dress in nothing but Victorian goth fashion. Many of these goths actually have interests rooted in the Victorian era. Their favorite past times might be visiting Victorian themed exhibits at the museum and having Victorian inspired tea parties. So for them, Victorian goth just best reflects their personal tastes and identities. So you might think that by telling a goth that they shouldn’t limit themselves to identifying with a particular style is helping them to better express their identities,but it’s actually doing the opposite. For many goths, it’s more than just a substyle, it’s almost it’s own mini subculture that people can identify with that’s still a part of goth.

Not everyone feels like they need to put themselves into boxes or identify with one thing in particular but some do. Some take comfort in it. Lets also not forget that not every goth is neurotypical. Some goths may have mental illness and some may take comfort in compartmentalizing things. It might help them to break goth down into substyles and put them into neat little boxes that they can identify with.

Also breaking goth down into even smaller subgroups within the subculture is not always a bad thing. Some goths may argue that having subgroups is negative because some goths are only befriending other goths of a particular substyle instead of making friends with goths of all types and this is true to an extent. It is very important that we put certain differences aside and make friends with all goths, BUT sometimes its just easier and less stressful to make friends with goths that dress like you. Why? Because you already know that you probably have more than one thing in common. Sure it would be great if a romantic goth made friends with a cyber goth but if their tastes are totally different then they may have trouble attending clubs together or hanging out because their hobbies and music tastes just clash too much.

So for the most part how goths identify with the subculture really is subjective and not as black and white as some goths like to think. Whether you choose to dress goth, listen to every goth band or experiment with substyles, its important to respect everyone and create a balance so you aren’t letting goth dictate who you are. Its okay to care about goth and express it in every way possible but only if that’s what you really want to do and you aren’t sacrificing other parts of yourself to do it. Its also okay to enjoy non goth things and express yourself through specific substyles that you enjoy. Yes, you should make friends with goths of all types but its important to remember that you choose your friends and if you are more comfortable with making goth friends who dress and act similar to you that’s fine, the only one who should have a say on the friends you make is you.

The bottom line is everyone identifies with goth a little differently and that’s okay as long as you respect others and don’t let it change who you are. Don’t let goth or anyone in the subculture dictate your life or how you choose to express yourself. Self identity is important and you should never let goth change it.

Heights

Originally posted by wonderlandgirlforever

Peter Parker x Shy/Scared Reader

Summary: Even though Peter’s been busy with saving the world, you’ve been feeling neglected and unwanted. He notices and decides to do something fun to cheer you up. 

Word Count: 2,453 (my longest one so far, holla)

Warnings: heights, panic attack, language, fluff, sad stuff. Let me know if I missed any. 

A/N: Alrrright guys, hopefully this turns out okay. I was thinking about making this into a series depending on how much you guys dig it. If you do, then I will post all about what I’m going to do for the series to see if you guys are interested. Sound good? As always, feedback is definitely appreciated. I never get any, so I don’t know what I’m doing wrong or right. Enjoy!


Ever since Peter told you he was the big ‘ol Spiderman, it felt like your guys’ weekly hangouts and movie nights were coming to an end. Of course you understand that he’s saving the world and stopping the bad guys, but it leaves you worried and afraid for his well being. He always seems distracted around you and it fills you with a darkness. Telling Peter would make you seem selfish, so you bury it, hoping it won’t poke its way through. 

Being the shy, reserved, person you are, you definitely had difficulty talking to Peter, especially since you’ve always had a never ending crush on him. After a while of trying to ask him if he could hang out, you stopped. It wasn’t worth the pain of going through to only be rejected once again. 

However, what you didn’t know was that Peter noticed you putting up your walls again. He didn’t want to lose you and decided he was definitely going to do something about it. Starting tonight

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Parents didn’t always read the orientation material.

There were a few, every year.  They insisted on helping the new students move into the dorms.  They sent boxes from home, full of cookies or brownies or favorite munchies.  They called frequently (it wasn’t safe.  Letters were safer, e-mail was safer, even texts were safer, but calls not so much.)  They begged for pictures, for visits, and sometimes they accidentally-on-purpose “just happened to be in the area”.

The staff tried to deal with parents.  Oh how they tried.  Usually it worked.  The Gentry almost never kept parents.

But some… some parents never left.

She had taken piano lessons when she was younger.  Her parents approved:  that was a womanly decorative thing to do.  She had never played sports, because that wasn’t a womanly decorative thing.  She wore dresses.  She took ballet, she sang, she painted. Her parents told her every day in every way who they thought she should be, and she tried, she really did.

She was tired of not being good enough.  

She applied to Elsewhere, and got a full music scholarship, and carefully out of sight in the shower she sobbed with relief and fear.  Her parents loved her, they really did, they told her so.  The disappointment at her, the silent treatment, the confinement and not being allowed out with her friends… well, they were just trying to protect her, right?  They didn’t know the bubble wrap they tried to put around her was smothering her.  

She read the orientation paperwork, every single scrap.  She wanted to do everything right, because the thought of doing it wrong terrified her.  Even the strange stuff, maybe especially the strange stuff, because everything in life was a test, another opportunity to disappoint.

“As an environmentally-conscious measure, Elsewhere University’s campus is not set up to allow automobile traffic.  For those students who need transportation help, there are staff with golf carts available, as well as a series of campus shuttles that make regular stops.  Bicycles are available for rent by the hour, the week, or the semester.  Skateboards and skates are permitted but proper safety gear must be worn.”

Father was angry when campus security wouldn’t let him drive straight to her dorm.  She trembled.  Always, when Father was angry, somehow either she or Mother paid.  He fumed while waiting for a golf cart, he clenched his jaw when the staff member driving the golf cart refused to simply step aside and hand over the keys, he was elaborately careful when helping load her things after being refused a campus map.

Her dorm was a solid brick building, a pleasant generic institutional place.  Father insisted on carrying her things up to her room, on the second floor.  "So I know where my little girl will be,“ he said. His anger cooled a little with the exertion, down to its usual simmer.

It only took a few trips to get all of her things upstairs.  Father insisted on a hug, just on the edge of being painful as his hugs always were.  She endured it, because trying to get away always earned a lecture.  "I love you so much, you’ll always be my little girl, you are a disappointment because you don’t love me as much as I love you, but I will forgive you because I am better than you.”

“Elsewhere University wishes to be the beginning of a new life for every student.  We ask that students choose a nickname, in order to facilitate this feeling of a new beginning.  Common nickname categories are an interest, a favorite song or work of art, an aspiration, or a personal quality.  It is our firm belief, demonstrated by decades of successful graduates, that this practice allows students the freedom to really expand their horizons and demonstrate both their personalities and their capabilities both actual and potential.  In support of this practice, we ask that legal names not be used on campus except with the Student Services or Records and Enrollment offices.”

The driver helped as Father made one last check to be sure nothing had been left.  He reminded her to call twice a week.  He hugged her again, ignoring the gasp she made as he let go.  "Remember to call your Mother, Susan.  You’ll always be her little girl, and you know how she worries.“

“I will, Father.”

The driver watched, waiting patiently while Father said his good-byes, then cleared his throat.  "Sir, if you want to attend the parent orientation, we need to be going.“  

"Yes, I’d planned on attending.  I need to know everything, to help keep my Susan safe.”  Father climbed aboard, and the driver waved as they left.  For an instant his hand seemed to have too many fingers.

She felt eyes on her as they drove away.

She climbed the stairs back to her room, looking forward to taking her shoes off and unpacking.  The door, locked when she left it, was still locked, but now there was a pile of stuff underneath the open window.  

“Hey!  Sorry I wasn’t here when you were bringing stuff up, he looked a bit intense, oh hey are you ok?”  The girl on the tree branch outside the window climbed in and sat on the windowsill.

She nodded.  She locked the door behind her, then sat on one of the beds.

“I’m Magpie, second year, one of the stage monkeys for the theater.  You wanna see?  No obligation.”

“Yeah, I… I paint, a little.”

“You do?  Cool!  Hey, but if you want to go see, that outfit’s cute and all but it’ll get ruined pretty quick.”

“I’ve got some grubbies, let me unpack.”

Magpie grinned and pushed her hair behind one ear.  "Your dad isn’t one of those types who thinks he’ll be visiting every weekend, is he?  'Cause I can’t hide all the time.“

"I think he was heading to the parent orientation.”

Magpie blinked.  "Oh… kay.“

"What, okay?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.  They go by Melanotis. They’ll tell you about the parent orientation.  Are you sure you’re ok?”  Magpie pushed her hair back again. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Why do you keep asking?”

“There is no parent orientation.  Here, take this.  No obligation.”  Magpie took a ring off of her index finger and handed it to her.  It was a puzzle ring made of iron and pyrite, and it fit her index finger as if it had been made for her.

“Thanks, but why?”

“My dad was like that, too.  What do you want to be called?”

The choice, the possibility of choice, was dizzying.  Something to hang onto… a favorite song.  "Call me Sussudio,“ she said, and smiled.

[x]

A thing you probably don’t know about me is that sometimes I get in this mood where I don’t want to do anything but spend every spare moment binge-watching House, M.D. for several days at a time. I was on ep 2.15, “Clueless,” AKA that one where Wilson crashes at House’s place for a while, when inspiration struck and this Sterek drabble happened. Or… It’s almost 2k words, so maybe it’s a bit more than a drabble, BUT it’s still a drabble in spirit. (Rated T.)

It’s almost midnight when Derek finally shoulders on his coat, locks his office door, and steps out, only to spot Stiles crouched in front of the vending machine at the end of the hall, whacking the glass with the heel of his palm and muttering darkly.

Derek can’t just ignore him; he never can. (It’s a bit of a problem, and everyone in the hospital seems to know it, except for Stiles.) Before he knows it, he’s changed tracks and walked right over. “What are you still doing here?”

Stiles sits back on his heels to look up at him. “Bob ate my dollar and I’m feeling petty so I’m trying to get it back.”

“Bob?” Derek asks, a split second before he remembers that Stiles named the vending machine. It’s just this kind of thing that makes Derek feel guilty for sometimes looking at Stiles’ mouth a little too long, or pausing to let his eyes follow Stiles’ progress down the hall. Stiles isn’t a kid or anything, but he’s still only 26 to Derek’s 32, and he’s still got a year of residency to go. A lot of times, like when he’s jamming out to his iPod while he looks over lab work or doing stupid stuff like naming the vending machines, he seems to Derek more like a college kid than a grown man with a medical license and a house and a girlfriend.

Stiles goes back to hitting the vending machine, and Derek remembers why he originally came over here. “Didn’t your shift end at 7?”

Stiles smirks up at him, and Derek tries very, very hard not to imagine him making that same face in certain… other contexts. “What, you got my schedule memorized now, Dr. Hale? I’m flattered.”

It would make Derek’s life a lot easier if so much of what Stiles said didn’t come out sounding so flirtatious. Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting.”

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2

“Better luck next time.”


Bank Robber AU for @ambiguous-eyepatch for the Valentines @aftgexchange!

I had a lot of fun drawing these and I hope you like it! 😃

I realized too late that this wasn’t exactly what you meant by your prompt, sorry about that, but I hope it’s still okay!

The rest of my mini-fic/headcanons/ramblings about this AU are below the cut:

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Daddy

Originally posted by lovershub

*not my gif

pairings: klaus mikaelson x reader; kol mikaelson x reader.

warnings: fingering, oral sex (female receiving), sex, teasing, swearing; NSFW +18.

A/N: writing this challenged me a lot, so the feedback is really really important. i want to know if y’all enjoyed this. :)

word count: 3664


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Model Behavior

Summary: Jack is getting ready to do a photo shoot for Alicia’s friend.  Bitty comes along to keep him company, when Bitty suddenly becomes the model. Jack’s reaction to the photo is… interesting.  A quick little ficlet which takes place during Jack’s senior year.  Also on AO3


Jack hated photo shoots. Absolutely hated them, but Alicia had a favor called in and he found himself in a position of not being able to say no. And so, begrudgingly, Jack Zimmermann was on his way to Boston for a one-day shoot.

“Like an actual shoot shoot?” Bitty asked wide-eyed as he told him about it over some ginger peach pie the evening before.

“Yeah. It’s for some clothing line. They’re going to dress me up like a puppet and then I have to stand there, and smile like an idiot.”

“I dunno, it sounds so fun to me. I’d love to model!” Bitty said then sighed, “Alas, I am vertically challenged.”

“Euh… do you want to come with me?” Jack asked pushing his pie around the plate with his fork.

“Really? And like watch?!” Bitty practically bounced off his seat.

“I guess so, Bittle. Don’t make me take it back.”

“No! I’ll behave. I promise! It’s going to be so much fun.”

+++

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Tell Me

Summary: Sam has this habit of distracting you every time he comes to visit. Working out more, forgetting to wear a shirt, you know the drill. But what happens when he finds a way to distract you when you’re in class as well?

Word Count: 5187 (got a little carried away. Not sorry at all)

Warnings: Implied smut. Sam Fucking Winchester (let’s be honest here, he is a warning all in himself)

A/N: @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​‘s fic Sexy Bastard is the fic that started this whole thing. Seriously, as soon as I read her summary “Sam is a fucking tease, okay?” I knew that I was done for. I’ve been working on this for an entire week because it just had to be done. Also, perfect timing! Happy Birthday Sam Winchester, you tease!

Tell Me English MasterlistDime Masterlist en Español


“How about that homework last night?” Jonathan asked, sliding into his normal seat beside you.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Nelly groaned, turning in her chair to talk to you two. “Lil and I worked on it for six hours and we still don’t know if we did it right.”

“Right?” You agreed emphatically, getting war flashbacks to your battles with the case study and your excel spreadsheet. “I swear, we haven’t even learned half of the stuff it was asking us to do.”

Rhetta pushed her chair closer and you fought to hold back your eye-roll. Here comes her self-righteous, better-than-you speech. “Actually, we learned about the regression analysis last week, and it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to answering question five from there.”

How about you just hop, skip, and jump away from us?

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