thinking of buying the book

you think just because i buy books means i actually read them? what a laugh ! i’ve never read a single thing in my whole life

2

My sister and I found these AMAZING book-inspired tins at the book festival this past weekend and just had to buy them. They’re by “Novelteas” if you’re interested! 

And yes they have tea in them!!! (But I think you can also buy just the tin if you want). 

- m

The police told me there was nothing down there. I know they’re lying.

(This story is very very long, be warned.)

I never wanted to be a mother. A child happened to me, I didn’t ask for it.

After you’ve had a child, you never get peace and quiet. I don’t mean that in a resentful way, just a fact. There’s the crying phase, the screaming phase, the yelling phase, the “NO!” phase, et cetera. And you never get time. You don’t have time for hobbies and distractions. Raising a child is two full-time jobs.

It’s not that I didn’t try to do everything I could for him. It’s not that I didn’t try and be a good parent. I did, I gave it everything I had. But deep down, I think he could tell that I didn’t want him. Kids know.

I had a part time job. I didn’t get paid very well, but it was enough. It was just office work, nothing exciting. My sister would look after him when I wasn’t around. I didn’t really have the money for daycare.

I knew that things weren’t working out like they should have. And I did what any self-respecting human being would do - I bought a book. I’d always heard that you should read to your child every night, and that doing so would make them smart and well-adjusted. Well, I had nothing to lose.

I’m not really an Amazon person, so I paid a visit to my local bookstore - a dark, slightly grubby independent place that shuns all but the most obsessive of bookworms. Standing in the narrow, dimly-lit aisles, surrounded by towering bookshelves jammed with volumes at every angle, I wondered, briefly - what do people normally buy for their kids?

The Very Hungry Caterpillar?

He was a bit old for that. Besides, I think that’s one of those books that parents buy because they think it’s kitschy, not because their kids will actually enjoy it.

Amongst the slightly destroyed second-hand Roald Dahl books and Dr. Seuss anthologies, I found a book that stuck out. It was old, and bound in what looked like real leather, but it was in surprisingly good shape. It wasn’t too long, but it proclaimed its suitability for for children aged 4-6 (he was five). It was called ‘The Trap Door’. No author, no other details. I picked it up and skimmed through the first few pages, and it seemed an ideal fit. It was written in an irregular rhyming meter, and it was festooned with colourful, scratchy illustrations that depicted a boy strikingly similar to my son. The picture was already forming in my head - we’d read it, we’d bond, and we’d smooth over the cracks.

I know it was just a book, but for the first time in my life, I realized I was excited to spend time with my son.

That night, after I’d tucked him into bed, I sat down on his shark duvet (he liked sharks), and I sprang the book upon him.

Once, long ago and far away

There lived a boy of five or so

With a rounded face and hair like hay

And a mind that yearned to learn and grow

The boy lived in a mud-flecked land

Of rolling hills and sheep and styles,

And brooks and trees and miles and miles

Of hinterlands and ranch hands

Long ago there was a war,

Of petty kings and border-lords

The earth did drink the blood of those

Who died for honor or a rose

The boy was happy as could be,

In the cottage on the hill

His mother his only company,

Who loved that boy with all her will

It’s challenging material for a five-year old. But it was educational, it was stimulating. I had only a faint idea of what the war of the roses was actually about, but I did a good job of pretending that I did.

We said our i-love-yous and I closed the door. Things were going to be okay.


Keep reading

Me and bf crushing each other's dreams

Me: You know, I do want to write at least one book in my life. Seems like a kind of thing I would enjoy.

Bf: I will sure let you write down my memoirs, when I’m one of the best performing fund managers.

Me: Are they going to be 18+?

Bf: No, they will be finance, companies, decision making etc.

Me: Meh, boring.

Bf: Well, I’m offering you to write a book about one of the most successful people in finance. This can be your breakthrough.

Me: what sort of fantasy tale is that?

Bf: It is going to be a memoir so..

Me: More like “never have I ever”

andy-quick  asked:

Hey! Could you do one where the reader is dating Tim and whenever she visits the manor, Damian clings to her because he has this huge crush on her and basically just Damian sneaking in between the Tim and reader's fluff? Thanks! Love ya! ✨

Hi, sorry for the long wait! I feel like I diverted a lot from what you wanted… but nevertheless, I hope you will enjoy this!


The moment Damian hears the front door open and Pennyworth’s voice greeting you, he casually gets off the sofa he had been laying on and walks out from the living room, just in time to see you. The smile on your face when you see him is very bright – he feels smug about it – and you pad towards him.

“Hello, Damian.” You wrap your arms around him and Damian smiles in to the hug before wrapping his own arms around you too. If this was somebody else, Damian would have hiss and scowl at them, before threatening to take off their hands permanently for even thinking about touching him. “How are you?”

Damian pulls away to answer your question. “To pass time I read a few books just now.” In other words, he had been bored while waiting for you to arrive. You knew Damian well enough to understand his roundabout way of telling you about his feelings honestly. You laugh warmly at that.

“Can you show me what you read? I finished the book you recommended a week ago and now I am itching to get another book.” You tell him excitedly – surprisingly (though by this point, you really should not be surprised by anything Tim’s family procures) Damian has some really good tastes in books.

Damian huffs his chest with pride and nods his head. “Of course – we should go to the library! Father managed to buy me a few more books too. I think you might quite enjoy the new readings as well.” You nod your head and glance at Alfred who is watching the exchanged with bemused eyes. You wave your hand at him and he nods his head at you. The two of you left for the library, with you forgetting the first reason you came to the manor.

That is how Tim finds you a good half an hour later. You were supposed to meet up with him so the two of you can spend some time together and then have hi-tea but when you did not come knocking on his door the moment you texted him you had arrived, that is when he knew something was up.

This lead to him leaving his bedroom to look for you. He had been about to go to the garden – because that is also one of the places you like to go to whenever you visit the manor – when Alfred had kindly led him to the library, keeping a small smile on his face when Tim finally realizes just who had taken away all of your attention.

The moment you spy him though, all of his worries, bubbling annoyance and little tinge of jealousy disappear because the smile on your face looks incredibly bright and there is just something about the way you look at him that made him extremely happy. “Tim!”

Damian shoots him a glare and Tim does his best to ignore the youngest Wayne and heads to his girlfriend instead. He presses a kiss at the top of your head before putting an arm around you, sneakily giving Damian a smirk. He can see Damian gritting his teeth before picking another book to give to you.

Your attention is immediately back on Damian. “Oh, I have heard great reviews about this one; are you sure it is alright for me to be borrowing this much?” You look away from the book Damian handed to you to the growing pile of books. You are so going to have your hands full for the upcoming weeks.

“Tt.” Damian nods his head affirmatively. “Of course – father would not mind and Drake certainly would not stop you from reading.” Damian looks at your boyfriend. “He knows how much you love to read.” He smirks knowing how he had just effectively cut short any possible interactions he would have with you.

This was probably one of the reasons why Tim and you got so well together. You were obsessed with reading books, books in general just as much as he is with his work and his technology.

You laugh. “Thank you, Damian; I will make sure to return all of them in one piece.” You tell him as you gather the books in to your arms. Tim, seeing how you are struggling with the amount of books, took a couple with him. “Thank you, Tim.” You press a kiss close to Tim’s mouth.

“Should we ask Alfred to make a few sandwiches and head to the gardens?” Tim asks you as he stare at you. You smile brightly and nod your head. “The weather is really good too. Come on.”

Damian huffs and crosses his arms quietly. He knows your time with him is coming to an end.

You turn to look at Damian and smile before ruffling his hair with your free hand. “Thank you for this, Damian! Come see me later before I leave yeah?” You tell him and when he smiles at you, you grin back at him happily. Damian is such an adorable little kid; really makes you miss your own little brothers.

Tim wraps his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him, sticking his tongue out cheekily at Damian.

“Tim, love, stop aggravating Damian and let’s go.” You swat playfully at your boyfriend – it’s not like you were unaware of this weird rivalry the two of them have got going. You just choose to ignore it most of the time.

  • me: has a very long book wish list
  • also me: goes to the bookstore and impulse buys like 5 books that aren't even on the list
  • also also me: goes home and adds three more books to the list
  • me: wow this list just keeps growing i have no idea how this happen
Blush

Write-A-Thon: Day 1 (AU Day)

Pairing: John Laurens x Alexander Hamilton

[ 80s bookstore AU // John is an art hoe who thinks the shop is good inspiration and Alexander is the cashier who won’t let anyone in if they don’t buy a book ]

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1772

A/N: I’m gay for this,, its not got much in the way of an actual plot line but its cute and they’re awkward and i loved writing it, also my computer autocorrected flames to lams at one point so basically i hate myself


Perhaps sitting behind the counter of a run down bookstore wasn’t how one would typically find love. Alexander Hamilton certainly never presumed that it would be the case for him. He’d grown content with the idea of hiding safely within the walls of the store, allowing the world to pass him by, a flurry of excitement just out of reach.

Alexander worked at the bookstore, the one tucked away on the corner of the lane. Everyone in town knew the one. Small: one room, and cluttered from wall to wall with shelves upon shelves of aged books.

And the smell: old candles, cigarette smoke, and a century old family dinner. It was unmistakable, the rotting floorboards and the yellowing walls. But despite the run down appearance, the shop gave off a distinct aura of homeliness.

It was the sort of place which seemed to draw out a smile from almost anyone, even Alexander. The store brought out the best in him, as much as he denied it.

Bells jingling, the heavy wooden door swung open, causing clouds of dust to form in the air before dissipating right before Alexander’s eyes. With it, came the curly haired boy, fatigue evident in his darkened eyes, a sketchbook clutched tightly in his left hand.

The smirk melted off of Alexander’s face as he found himself face to face with the boy. “If you don’t plan on buying anything,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes menacingly, “you can fuck right off.”

Smile worn across his lips, the boy simply shrugged off Alexander’s words. “And what makes you think I’m not buying anything?” he challenged, pulling himself away from the door, moving with a new life, as if his spirit had ignited a fire inside his chest: ever burning and forever ardent flames.

“You think I don’t recognize you?” Alexander remained firm and insistent, arms crossed over his chest, even as the boy picked a book up off the shelf. “I’m not stupid.”

“Really?” Eyebrows raised, a smirk dancing across his face, the boy seemed to be mocking Alexander.

“You’re that artist,” Alexander continued, spurring up the softest laughter, as though the idea of this boy being an artist was ridiculous. “You’re always here, and you never buy anything. So you can get out.”

“What does it matter to you if I’m here?” He pressed on with such insistence, yet with only the slightest bit of confidence to back that up.

“What does it matter to you?” Alexander replied quickly, repeating the boy’s words as so to spare him the energy of thinking up a witty comeback. “All you do is draw,” he continued. “You don’t even read anything.”

The boy gave way to a shrug, daring to hold Alexander’s gaze for a few moments more as the air seemed to decay around them, leaving them as nothing but mere statues in the dust where there had once been a bookstore and two boys whose worlds had just begun to fold into each other’s.

“I’m John Laurens,” the boy offered up, looking up at Alexander expectantly: the Laurens family was well known for being the most wealthy in their pathetic little town. John clearly seemed to think that because of his last name, he was entitled to whatever he wanted.

“I see what you’re doing.” Alexander narrowed his eyes, glaring pointedly at John. “You think you can just hide behind that name and I’ll give you what you want.”

John’s cheeks flushed red and he drew his gaze to the dusty floor. He nervously brushed a hand back through his hair, pushing billowing chestnut curls away from his face.

“It won’t work,” Alexander continued. “See, I only care about your money if you’re using it to buy a book, which you’re very obviously not. So give me a reason to let you stay before I kick you out.”

“It’s good inspiration- the store,” he explained, gesturing at the walls around them. “It’s so full of history, so colorful-”

Alexander let his gaze sweep throughout the store. “I can’t see any color besides brown, so unless there’s something I’m missing, you’re full of shit.”

On the surface, it seemed as though Alexander was right. Dusty brown floorboards, walls, even the book covers seemed to be tinted brown in the flickering lighting.

“Not the visible colors.” John continued, voice dripping with the utmost assurance that Alexander wasn’t stupid: from the almost bored tone in his voice, he reckoned that this was a conversation he’d had many times. “Like… there’s this… this aura.” He searched helplessly for some sort of understanding in Alexander’s eyes, but was met with no reassurance whatsoever. “The sound of the fan-” he waved his hand towards the fan that sat in the distant corner of the shop- “the sound it makes, that’s green, a deep forest green. And the smell of the shop, that’s this soft yellow shade, like a sunflower. And the walls-”

“I get it.” Alexander cut John off, despite not understanding what he meant in the slightest, but he didn’t have any interest in listening to him ramble on indefinitely. “But seriously, this is a book store. Not an art studio.”

Drawing out a sigh, John held a book up for Alexander to see. Ironweed by William Kennedy. “And if I buy a book, will you let me stay here?”

“Ironweed?” Alexander struggled to hide a smile. He fell back against the back of his swivel chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose I’d let you stay, but Ironweed isn’t the place to start, in my opinion.”

John arched his eyebrows in response.

“It’s part of a series, see.” Alexander pushed himself up off his chair and wove his way through the maze of bookshelves. “The Albany Cycle.”

Finally finding what he was looking for, Alexander plucked the book off the dusty shelf and held it out to John. “This is the one you’re looking for.”

“Legs?” He read off the cover, a note of disbelief in his voice. “What the fuck kind of name for a book is that?”

Alexander cracked a smile, staring down at him through dark eyes. “It’s the name of a character,” he explained. “Which you would know,” he added, “if you’d bother to read the back of the book.”

Eyes narrowed in defiance, John flipped the blood red book over in his hands and began to read aloud. “‘Legs, the inaugural book in William Kennedy’s acclaimed Albany cycle of novels, brilliantly evokes the flamboyant career of gangster Jack ‘Legs’ Diamond.”

Alexander clapped his hands in mock pride. “You can read!” he exclaimed. “And here I thought you’d never picked up a book in your life.”

He continued to scan the back of the book. “It takes place in the 20s?” He sounded shocked, perhaps even the slightest bit disgusted by the notion.

“And the 30s,” Alexander supplied, almost mechanically, continuing to stare John down from behind gold rimmed glasses.

“It’s 1983,” he pointed out, causing him to receive an overly dramatic eye roll from Alexander in response.

“So?” Alexander challenged, growing defensive despite having never read the book. “The 20s were much better than now, in my opinion.”

“Well, your opinion doesn’t matter much, as you’re not the one buying the book.”

Alexander gave way to the softest laugh. “I don’t think you’re buying the book either.”

He slammed the book on the counter with quite a bit more force than Alexander reckoned was necessary. “How much?”

“3.99,” Alexander supplied without having to think. The prices were almost ingrained in his head after over a year of working at the store.

John dug a crumpled dollar out of his pocket and tossed it onto the counter beside the book. He held Alexander’s gaze for a few moments, seemingly daring him to accept the partial payment.

“Fuck, fine.” John folded his arms over his chest, somewhat disheartened.

“You’re rich.” Alexander didn’t bother trying to hide the incredulous tone in his voice. “What does 3.99 matter?”

John dug around in his pockets for the rest of the money. “Shit,” he mumbled as a handful of coins slipped from his fingers and rolled in every direction across the floor. He set his sketchbook on the counter and knelt to the floor, chasing the dozens of coins.

Alexander took advantage of the opportunity to flip through the pages of John’s sketchbook. He couldn’t deny that the art was incredible: graceful lines merging with perfectly selected colors, but even so, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Turtles?” he asked incredulously, flipping through the pages. That was the last thing Alexander had been expecting to find in the notebook, and there were hundreds of them. Every page contained a new turtle, some with even two or three.

John emerged from the other side of the counter, cheeks burning red. “I like them,” he admitted defensively, setting the remainder of the money in front of Alexander.

Giving way to a light chuckle, Alexander stuffed the money into the cash register and slid the book across the counter to John. “They’re quite nice, actually.” Alexander gestured down to John’s sketchbook. “I wish I could draw like that.”

“It’s just a matter of practice.” The corners of John’s lips crept into a genuine smile.

“Yeah, well…” Alexander trailed off, unsure of what he was supposed to say. “I used to want to be an artist. Then I realized I was pretty shit at it.”

John raised his eyebrows as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You? An artist? I wouldn’t have guessed… you don’t seem the type.”

Alexander shrugged, letting a small storm of silence overtake them. It crept in from the darkest corners of the room, slowly blanketing the whole shop in a world of quiet. “Well, look at you here, buying a book. I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type for that either.” He smiled as though that cleared everything up. “I suppose we’re all full of surprises, aren’t we?”

John’s cheeks flushed an obnoxious shade of pink. “You know I’ve got no intention of reading it.”

“I know,” Alexander assured him, slipping the book into a brown paper bag and handing it over to John. “But maybe you’ll surprise yourself as well as me.”

John smiled. “Maybe I will.”

He took the bag and tucked it inside his coat, making a mental note to try and get through at least a few pages in the book. If not for himself, then for the hopeful cashier who had laid the world out for John in a language that he didn’t quite comprehend, but at the very least, he would try to learn.

anonymous asked:

Rachel, I'm thinking of buying the first captive prince book because you seem to love it so much, can you tell me something about it that will make me want to buy it, I'm still hovering over that 'buy' button on amazon

okay listen first of all this is an EXCELLENT CHOICE and i applaud you for making it this far, and i’m just going to throw information at you until you buy it, okay?  

  • if you follow me you love slow burn, that’s just fact™ and CP is the SLOWEST OF BURNS 
  • but also like you’re rooting SO HARD for things to happen that when they do it’s like… i neED MORE TIME 
  • so it’s your classic hate to love but it’s all these tropes turned on their heads
    • like i started reading it and was like… really. this is basically just a bad slave fic on AO3 that’s used as an excuse to write noncon, really, but that’s literally about as far from reality as possible 
    • the POV character is Damen, a prince whose brother betrays him and sells him off to be the slave of Laurent (we’ll get to him in a second) so he can take over the kingdom
      • damen is basically brown hercules with better people skills
        • he’s that badass that isn’t even fully aware of his capacity to badass 
        • like at one point he just. fuckn. throws a broadsword across a river and through a guy’s chest. like. 
      • but he’s an actual puppy, has ALL THIS LOVE TO GIVE and he tries to give it to laurent who just Is Not Here For It 
        • let me rephrase that. he wants so badly to hate laurent at first because laurent is RUDE and MEAN but he shows like one (1) vulnerability and damen is like “…i must have him.” 
    • Laurent is this ice cold, smirky-smirky-i’m-smarter-than-you prince of a rival kingdom, and he basically trusts no one ever at all 
      • so then he’s given this guy as a slave and he tries to keep doing his Cooler Than U thing but damen is so lovable and wonderful that he literally can’t do it 
        • he has feelings!!! they’re just buried deep deeeeep down and he doesn’t WANT to have them but guess what bud. you do. you have them. 
    • spoiler: they fall in love!!!! against all odds!!!!!!! 
  • there are lines in those books that literally made me get up and do a lap around the house 
    • “i hated you, and then you saved my life. and every time i needed you, you were there, and i hated you for that too.” 
      •  WHAT THE FUCK
    • “To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up. Never had he wanted something this badly, and held it in his hands knowing that tomorrow it would be gone, traded for the high cliffs of Ios, and the uncertain future across the border, the chance to stand before his brother, to ask him for all the answers that no longer seemed important. A kingdom, or this.”
      • WHAT. THE. F U C K. 
  • like honestly, if you like game of thrones, you’ll love these books. it’s a lot of ~relationships that echo the wider struggles, scheming and conniving and backstabbing, that sort of thing, and the society/cultures are well-built and help you sort of figure out why laurent is like.. that. 
    • but it’s also incredibly hilarious in some parts, and then you turn the page and there’s a quote that’ll just knock the breath out of you, and it’s all just really wonderful 
    • also you get to meet charls the renowned veretian cloth merchant, and he’s worth reading the entire series tbh
‘let this moment be the first chapter’ - phan

Summary: dan has a crisis about whether or not he will be a good father after they receive the confirmation letter that their adoption application has been accepted.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Trigger Warning: some swearing, a panic attack, talks of medical drug use, night terrors

Additional Tags: adoption, future, angst, anxiety

Author’s Note: this is the first of three one-shots based on three songs from ‘Hamilton: An American Musical’, based on the song 'that would be enough’

Keep reading

isabelknight  asked:

I just read Final Girls, and I loved so much about it, but I really wanted to specifically thank you for the way you described the villain's body and capabilities. I had to re-read it twice because the combination of "body very like mine"+"believably badass"+"not a joke" was so very cool and surprising and unusual I kept thinking I must have misread something. I buy your books because I love the stories and words and characters in general, but wow. I never expected to see that, so thank you.

You are completely welcome.

College Textbook Lifehacks

Okay so it’s not the beginning of a semester but whatever. While I’m thinking about it, let me, a bonafide degree holder learn you some knowledge about college textbooks so you don’t have to take out a mortgage or try to short the market just so you can have a $1,000 paperweight that you never read.

Rule #1 I don’t care what your syllabus says or what your pre-semester welcome email from your professor says or what the bookstore website says, don’t buy the book before classes begin. Show up the first day and ask the professor if the book is necessary for passing the class. Sometimes, it’s not. Sometimes the professor teaches from his or her own memory and never consults the course textbook. If this is the case, unless you just love reading textbooks or want to keep them for whatever occupation you pursue once you have your degree, don’t get the book and save yourself some money. If he or she can teach the course without a book, you can pass it without a book.

Rule # 2 If your professor’s response is yes, you absolutely do need the book, ask him or her how different the required issue is from previous issues. Book publishers are dirty swindlers and will release a new edition of each book every year or two. Often times the new edition has minor changes like maybe now chapter 14 is split up into two chapters or they changed a couple of the review questions. If an older edition will suffice, just like iPhones, they will be a lot cheaper than the newest edition and you have a better chance of finding an even cheaper used copy which brings me to rule 3.

Rule # 3 Don’t buy the books from your university. Like publishing companies, universities also tend to be dirty swindlers. Copy the ISBN listed for your textbook and paste that shit into a site like half.com valorebooks.com or amazon.com where you will find discounted versions of most every textbook. You could also try to torrent them off of those sketchy russian sites that are listed under that post with the “Leak college textbook PDF’s not nudes” tweet but when that doesn’t work, you go to those sites I listed. Now you have to choose what quality you want, this is important because it can affect the resale value which I’ll talk about later. Obviously the higher the quality (New, Used-Like New etc.) will give you book without creases, markings etc. but will be more expensive. If you don’t care about this (again I’ll explain why you might care in rule 4), maybe go for the rental if the rental is cheaper than purchasing a high quality book-ONLY DO THIS IF YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT RESALE AND DON’T TEND TO MARK IN YOUR BOOKS. Otherwise, the choice is yours. Now you might ask, what will I do for the two weeks it takes to ship my book? This is where making friends in class comes in handy, just ask them to borrow their book for the time being, or better yet, if you have a close friend already in the class, split the cost of the book 50/50 and share it. If neither of these options work for you, visit your professor in his or her office hours, give them some BS like “I’m so sorry professor, I think I mixed up the shipping and billing address so it’s taking forever for the book to get here boo hoo feel bad for me.” Usually, professors have no problem photocopying the first chapter of the book for you or will be a little lenient with deadlines for the whole class if you’re not the only one. This is fun because not only do you get away with not buying the book right away, but you’re a hero for your class.

Rule #4 Even though it’s the beginning of the semester, think ahead to the end of the semester. Your university is going to offer to buy back your books at the end of the semester. Do not sell them your books, I repeat DO NOT SELL THEM YOUR BOOKS. Those dirty swindlers that sold you an overpriced book a few months ago? Yeah they’re going to buy it back for $5.00 or less. I don’t care if it’s a 10 lb, 700 page biology textbook that’s still in the plastic wrap, you will get jipped. Sell them on amazon. Seller accounts are free and though you aren’t likely to get 100% of what you paid for it back, you will make much more money selling there than you would to the school. If you bought the higher quality book and kept it in decent shape, you’ll get some good beer money. If you went with the $0.99 acceptable condition book, maybe don’t try and sell it on amazon because you’ll pay more to ship it than you’ll receive profit this is why it’s important to take into consideration whether or not you think you will mark up your book. Rentals are cheaper than buying new but you can’t mark them and can’t sell them but don’t worry, there’s other places you can sell your book if you bought a crappy one. Find out if your school has a student run for sale Facebook group (hint, it probably does, especially if you’re at a large state-school), advertise your books on the page and sell them for cash to a fellow student. 

Rule #5 Sorry to say, but these rules don’t work for every course. You might have that dick of a professor that wrote his or her own book and makes you buy it which means you can’t find it on any third party website. When this happens, the most you can do is see if someone who has already taken the course still has their book so you can buy it from them. You can also leave a scathing review during evaluations at the end of the semester and on RateMyProfessor.com which may not do much but is good for the soul. 

Also, especially for labs and beginning language courses, you may need to buy a workbook. Used ones are hard to come by but they do exist thanks to people like me who do their assignments on a separate sheet of paper so they don’t have to mark up the textbook and can resell it later (I advise doing this). This works for language courses, I don’t know how well it works for labs since I am not a science student, if it does work-sweet and if not-I’m truly sorry.

These are my rules and I promise they work. If any one else has additional hacks that they’ve figured out I’d love to hear them! Seriously, doing these things saved me an ass-load of money. 

before the time comes

Originally posted by purplehairedtaemin

Title: before the time comes

Pairing: Lee Taemin/Reader

Summary: Waiting for a flight wasn’t ever as nostalgic, beautiful and fun as it was that day for Taemin.

Six hours. Taemin considered himself a fairly patient person, he could wait a few hours for anything that he really wanted to do, even distracting himself with his own thoughts or simply doing anything as using his phone or writing down on a piece of paper whatever thought came to his head. However, he doesn’t think that the delay of his flight that would last six hours was one of the things he thought he could be patient about. Surely, if it was under another circumstances, if he needed a well deserved break and the mere thought of sitting alone with his manager on said airport was the only way of getting it, but he really needed to leave as soon as possible, his duties filling his mind like a disease, lingering with stress and frustration. Taemin immediately plops down on a seat, his longish legs stretching in front of him as a yawn leaves his plump lips. Six freaking hours.

Immediately, Taemin groans quite loudly, making his manager click his tongue as he looked at the younger male. If anything, Taemin wanted the comfort of a first class flight, with nice seats and even nicer food so he could clean his mind and purify his body –since relaxing in his apartment wasn’t an option at this point-, but he’s helpless as he looks down at his phone, checking the time only to see that five minutes had gone by and it seemed like hours. Taemin fixes the cap over his head, running his hands over his thighs quickly to create some warmth in the cold airport before hearing the voice of his manager ringing through his ears.

“You’re acting like a kid,” The manager starts and Taemin feels out of place. Surely, he was always the youngest of his group, but he was never childish. There was a cute aura to him, that was something everyone knew and accepted, but he wasn’t someone who whined and acted egocentric. Perhaps, it was the amount of things that were on his agenda that made him so stressed out, or the sound of another flight going off that made him feel so stuck. “Do you need coffee, a jacket, anything so you can finally stop whining?” There was some teasing lingering on each word, but Taemin sighs as he stands up, placing his hands inside his pockets before shaking his head.

“I’ll go for a walk around the airport.” Taemin announces and his manager only nods his head, leaning back against the seat as Taemin walks away, his hands instantly reaching for his pockets, peaking out slightly from his sweater paws that made him look effortlessly adorable.

His black hair moves against the wind as he steps inside one of the small shops that were there, something like a convenience store or so. Taemin plays with the necklace around his neck, gold and shining brightly as he remembers the time his mother gave it to him, promising that she was always going to be with him as long as he used it. He starts considering buying something, whether it was a sweet, chocolate bar or energy bar, whatever could please his craving for anything sweet. At that moment, his eyes catch the packaging of his favorite chocolate bar, instantly smiling to himself as he stops playing with his necklace to reach for it, trotting towards the attendant so he could pay with the biggest smile over his features.

When he turns around, chocolate bar on hand –and a few sweets and snacks on a bag on his other hand-, he looks at someone that was checking out a few snacks on the small convenience store. Her hair was messy on the ends, humming a small song to herself as her oversized shirt made her look effortlessly stunning but comfortable at the same time. At that moment, she turns around to look at the small books that were on a shelf near the store, short enough to read on a quick flight if you read fast enough. Her eyes instantly trail over the books, picking up one that Taemin describes as the ‘one with the red cover’ and as he smiles to himself, he walks towards the shelf, taking the last bite from the chocolate bar when he picked up another copy of the book she was looking at, pretending to read through the pages to see if he should buy it, but instead he was stealing a few glares towards her way, amazed by the way the girl he met at the airport could be so –breathtaking, like a pair of eyes in the moonlight with the most beautiful of shining lights that he could compare with the busiest of cities around the world.

Keep reading

Things an INXP does after an exam

INTP:

- Buys new manga/book.

- Thinks about her next cosplay.

- Wonders how to continue her sci fi novel.

- Thinks about everything but the exam.

- Tries to study for the next esam.

- Procrastinates it.

- Watches a TV series.

INFP:

-Realises he’ll have another exam soon.

-Gets anxious about it.

-Can’t study because of anxiety and lies in the bed listening to sad music.

-Gets too lazy to study and procrastinates studying.

-Finds a song by Rammstein while dicking around and listens to it.

-Has his brain completely messed up and burnt because Rammstein are loud. And strong. And mind-burning as fuck.

-Still likes the song and keeps listening to it until he can’t even think straight.

-Hasn’t studied yet.

More on the John Valone Names, from the Amazon book preview

Enjolras> Ennis 
Combeferre>Casmire (?!?!?)
Courfeyrac > Mitchell (?????)
Feuilly>Mactier (WHY)
Lesgles>Lamott

Patria>Patricia

Cosette> Catherine (okay if I thought that reference was on PURPOSE I’d kind of like it but no) 
Fauchelevent >Franklin 
Jean Valjean > John Valone

Javert>Jansen 

whyyyyy
(also PSA to anyone thinking of buying it, it’s a pro-Confederacy book,the barricade scene is the Amis facing the dastardly Massachusetts Militia. It’s. It’s bad.But here it is, if you want to check it out yourself. )

ETA: Gavroche>Gavin

savvyxaab24  asked:

Erm, I'm pretty new here and I have no idea how to navigate this whole new world of "asking" and "requesting" stuff, but my fear of making mistakes online despite no one knowing me is overcome by my intense need to ask: How would you two really intriguing people surmise an interaction between a male ENTJ and a female INFJ would go down, given that ENTJ is mystified by (and maybe even slightly attracted to) INFJ's "otherworldliness" -- which poses a challenge ENTJ can't help but to take on?

Hello and welcome!

First of all, we’re glad you ended up sending the ask. There’s no wrong way, don’t worry about it. This might sound like a common saying, but we really mean it. 

–> Here’s a quick guide to the blog: 

  • We are two admins, an INFJ and an INTJ. 
  • It started being a compilation of real life conversations between INxJs, but now we include many other types. 
  • We take all kind of MBTI requests, the most popular ones ended up being  “mbti family conversations”, “friends conversations” and “guess my type” (where people tell us stuff about themselves and we try to type them; sometimes it works, sometimes we fail and it’s always fun). We have no idea how these trends started, it just happened. 
  • You can also ask us anything MBTI related, INTJ normally goes for the cognitive functions approach and INFJ has read and learned on Psychology in general. 
  • You can ask for advice about any problem that is troubling you and we can try to be of some help.
  • Anything, as long as it is appropriate and respectful. 

– INTJ and INFJ

~~~
[Now on your request, this is how these types could interact]:
At a book store, INFJ takes careful notes in a neat but simple notebook. ENTJ enters and comes closer in silence.

ENTJ (after thinking about it): Making a list of books to buy?

INFJ (absent-minded): Mm? Oh, well, kind of.

ENTJ (Smiling): Yeah?

INFJ: I am just trying to put these books in order in the Dostoyevski-Camus spectrum.

ENTJ (smiling wider): Can you explain me the rules you follow?

INFJ (smiling back, suddenly speaking a little faster): Well, I take books that start with faking apathetic main characters that are tired of their existence. Lots of Byronic heroes in here. Anti-heroes tend to work too.

ENTJ (nods): Makes sense.

INFJ: Then, as the story unfold, I conclude if they follow in one of two categories: if they decide to celebrate the meaningless of life and create meaning by the means of the absurd hero (Which would make Camus proud) or if they resume to a new state of contempt, concluding to the idea that life does have meaning and turning back from the point of no return that Camus tend to argue (which falls closer with the way Dostoyevski makes his character suffer). Therefore I can buy accordingly to what mood of story I am more inclined to at the moment.

ENTJ: You don’t mind having the ending spoiled?

INFJ: Not really. I tend to guess how stories are going to end fairly easily, so if the process of reading it feels right, I don’t mind knowing how it is going to end.

ENTJ (very badly concealed heart-eyes): Which mood are you right now? Camus or Dostoyevski?

INFJ (after thinking about it): Dostoyevski.

ENTJ (walks to the next shelf and comes back with The Eternal Husband): Can I buy you this one?

INFJ (chuckles softly): Sure, but isn’t that cheating? It is literally a book from Dostoyevski.

ENTJ (smiling back): You didn’t say in your rules that this wasn’t allowed.

INFJ (laughs again): Touché. Thanks for the book, I’ll get you a cool one in return.

ENTJ: Sounds cool to me.

——-

If you were thinking more of an analysis of the relationship rather than a conversation that summarizes the relationship, send us another ask and we’ll write that :) 

First Kiss Story #2: The Art of the Kiss



“Crane?” Abbie called out, unable to find her fellow Witness in between the shelves at his favorite bookstore. He was usually easier to find than this, sticking mainly to one section but today, he must have gone exploring. She called out for a him a few more times before she turned the corner to find him in the self-help section.

He was completely engrossed in the book he was reading and didn’t even notice when she approached him. She could see the title plain as day when he finally looked over the top of the book and saw her standing there.

The Art of the Kiss.

According to the few lines she could catch on the back cover before he crammed it in place on the shelf, it covered such things as learning how to French kiss all the way to actual art that featured kissing. It seemed pretty inclusive and judging by the flush rising to Crane’s cheeks, pretty embarrassing to get caught reading if you were a grown man with no one to kiss presently.

“This is not what it seems,” he stammered, moving so he was standing in front of the section of books he had been focused so intently on that he didn’t even hear her call his name.

“What is it then?” Abbie asked, reaching around him for a copy of the book. She grabbed it and starting flipping through it. It was all rather lovely, actually. There were men kissing women. Women kissing women. Men kissing men. And art… from everyone’s favorite dorm room poster, The Kiss by Klimt to Pygmalion kissing Galatea in a work by Jean-Léon Gérôme.

“I was just curious,” Crane said, his hands now behind him as he stood there, not looking at the book as she flipped through the pages.

“Curious?”

“Truth be told, it has been a while since I kissed someone… besides my wife…” Crane started to say, sort of mumbling through his sentence.

“Yeah, I remember. I saw a few of those kisses,” Abbie said, trying not cringe too hard at the memory.

“She and I weren’t getting along all that well then, as you remember… anyway, it’s been a while and I didn’t know if things were different now… if the occasion should present itself where I would be… kissing someone… again… if things… I don’t know,” he said, still not looking at her or the book.

“A kiss is just a kiss,” Abbie said, laughing just a little at all of this. “The fundamental things apply, Crane.”

“Don’t mock me,” he said, looking at her seriously. “This concerns… you.”

“What now? How?” Abbie asked.

He took the book out of her hands and set it aside before putting a hand on each of her shoulders and pulling her just a little bit closer. She wanted to tip her face up to look at him but before she could, he kissed the top of her head. Just a soft, gentle kiss. When he backed away slightly, she looked up at him, gazing into his eyes. His breathing was no longer as steady as it had been and as they looked at each other, they both breathed in and out, opposite of the other. Her heart started racing and she wasn’t sure how this turned into this so quickly but here they were, in a little bookstore, about to share their first kiss. At least she hoped he had the nerve to do it.

She stood up on her tiptoes and he stood with his legs just so that he could kiss her forehead now. He put his forehead against hers and they just stared into each other’s eyes, still breathing. She wasn’t sure how she was still breathing but she was.

He kissed her.

Softly.

Slowly.

Finally.

He kissed her and it was everything she had hoped for.

Just long enough so she could commit to memory the taste of him. Short enough to make her want more.

And she got more. She pulled his face down and showed him how she liked to be kissed. Yes, books were one thing but nothing beat practice. Her fingers twisted in his long hair, holding him close as her tongue parted his lips.

They were in a public place but yet somehow she had let this get far enough that he parted her thighs with a knee and she was rubbing against him as they kissed. His hands held her tight around her waist and the world was spinning… like she was some girl getting her first kiss all over again.

She was, sort of. The first first kiss that was going to matter for the rest of her life. The last first kiss she ever planned to have.

“Abbie,” he said, pulling away from her, and licking his rosy lips. His face was completely flushed now and she didn’t want to stop but knew that they couldn’t continue this here.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“I don’t think we’re going to need to buy that book,” he said and she laughed.

“No… I don’t think so. But what else do they have in here…” she asked, turning around in his arms and looking at the books on the shelves. Hard to believe that some of these were in print now, what with the internet acting as everyone’s guide these days.

“I don’t think we’re going to need any of these books, Abbie,” he said, pushing her hair aside, leaning in, and kissing her neck. She tilted her head to the side and he continued to place tender kisses across her jaw line and every inch of uncovered skin he could reach, taking a moment to suck on her earlobe. She shivered from the sensation and couldn’t wait for his mouth to explore all of her.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure we can manage,” Abbie said, turning around and kissing him once more before staring into his eyes again. “We can manage just fine.”

The End