#financial model creation

[unkstaarwysbr]

Uncertain Horizons: The Evolving Landscape of ESPN and the Quest for Relevance

In TSDS 278, the hosts kick start their discussion by expressing their waning interest in traditional television shows like “First Take” and “Undisputed,” programs they hadn’t engaged with for years. This realization sparks their curiosity about the future and relevance of traditional TV networks, such as ESPN. This article delves into their insightful dialogue, exploring the challenges and…

[honeytonedhottie]

master list⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀🍰

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[lua-magic]

Second Lord and your wealth 🤑 creation.

Second lord in first house

How much wealth you create, it is totally depends on your personality, only you are responsible for your flow of money 💰 in your life.

Second Lord in second house 🏡

Your wealth creation depends on your family, you can join hands with your family, or you can earn through your speech, so you can earn through your speeches.

You could also earn through cooking.

Second Lord in third house.

You could work with your siblings, or you can earn through your skills.

The more number of skills you learn, more it will help you financially.

You could also earn through writing.

Second Lord in fourth house

You can work from your Home, or you can work for large masses of people, you could also work or serve your mother land.

You could do well in automobiles and real estate as well.

Second Lord in fifth house 🏡.

You could work in education industry, teaching or do something with regards to children and books.

Second lord in sixth house.

Well, you can show your fighting spirit and earn money 🤑 through it.

You can be social activist, doctor or lawyer.

You could work for pets 🐕 and animals.

Second Lord in seventh house 🏡

You could earn through buisness, partnerships. You could work with or contribute with your better half for your own income source.

Second lord in eighth house..

You could work in the field of research, occult and astrology.

You can also earn your income by managing other's asset, like in banking, Insurance.

You could also work in mining industry, or in secret services like FBI, spy.

Second lord in ninth house.

You could earn by counselling others, and through teaching. You could earn by travelling, or through your father.

Second lord in tenth house.

This placement shows you can earn well by being truthful ton your job and through your own hard work.

The more hard work and professional success you get, the more financial stability you achieve in your life

Second lord in eleventh house

You can earn through your friends circle and your own network of people, the more high networth people you are surrounded by, the more financial success you will get in life.

You could also earn through your social media, or through your elder siblings.

Second Lord in twelfth house 🏠

You have to settle in foreign land in order to earn your income, or you can earn through foreign lands like working in MNC.

You could work in hospitals, jails or in mental asylum as well.

You could work in the field of spirituality, yoga and meditation

*For such native charity of money 🤑 becomes extremely important, the more you give others the more you get it.

Native who has Venus Rahu and Mars Rahu they can earn money 🤑 through their body, like being an actress or model.

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: the boys barely use their twitter bc they're "too busy" and it wouldn't fit their characters but they do use IG more (except for jongseong) and enha's maknae line are going to make cameo appearances!🥺)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆: 28, only son of The Park Company's owner Park Jongil, hobby chef, new CEO, one of SK most successful business men under 30, "the public's prince charming"

𝐘𝐋𝐍 𝐘𝐍: 21, university graduate but never had the opportunities to get far in her job until she runs into park nayeon at a cat cafe and gets an offer for a secretary position where she could finally work her way up, hobby baker, introvert, spends most time with her friends but lives alone, no contact to her family, moved to seoul after graduation (@/__solvely__ as faceclaim!!!)

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍: 28, TPC's CFO (chief financial officer), 1/3 of Jong's childhood best friends, seoul's man of the year

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍: 28, TPC's head lawyer, 2/3 of J's childhood best friends, literally known as "the standard" bc of how pretty he is, lives in the penthouse next door to jongseong

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆: 29, TPC's CMO (chief marketing officer), 3/3 of jong's cbfs, lowkey jong's right hand, made it on the forbe's list of most successful people under 30 alongside jjong

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐍𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍: 30, jong's older half sister, doesn't really have a job, does modelling work every now and then but mostly content creation on social media, same dad different moms, lives close to jongie bc as much as she hates her failure of a father she adores her baby brother

𝐘𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐀𝐇: 28, jong's childhood friend who grew up in the same circles as him, content creator as well, works part time at TPC bc jong's father forced him to hire her, unhealthily obsessed with jongseong, actually thinks she's going to marry him lmao

𝐘𝐔 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍: 22, y/n's childhood bestie and aeri's roomie, works in the marketing department of TPC, cat mom, loves her job but hates working, draws caricatures of her coworkers during meetings

𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐀 𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐈: 21, y/n's other childhood bestie who works in human resources at TPC, hates yoo shiah with her whole being but likes her job, besties with her boss, always has boiling hot office tea bc everyone just tells her everything

(A/N: I know I said I'd take a break but I really felt like posting the profiles now to hype you guys up a little more 🫣 i know i haven't responded to all the poison asks yet but i promise i'll get to it once i feel like it! this was also pre-made and ready to be posted weeks ago so not much work! sending everyone the fattest kiss and thank you so much for all the love and support. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🥺💞)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @starlightmkl @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @soiimo @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @teddywonie @azures @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @glitterssim @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[read-marx-and-lenin]

I'm not "kill all ai" type of person but are you implying that the technocrats wet dream is actually about the destruction of ownership and a path towards communism?

Anti-AI arguments boil down to either idealist nonsense (AI art has no soul!) or arguments that can be made against literally any technology under capitalism (it uses electricity! It needs water for cooling! The industry exploits the developing world!)

AI art is not going to bring us closer to communism any more than any other technology. That said, the progress of technology furthers the material conditions that form the basis of communism. Communism is not possible without a developed industrial base. It is important to look at technology not only at how it is being used now but also how it could be developed and better used in the future. Otherwise, we end up as Luddites or anarcho-primitivists. The present state of things is not the only possible state of things.

It is likely that, were generative AI better developed and refined, it could be a great aid in the creation of works that would otherwise require entire teams of people working manually. Manual labor is not a virtue. It is merely a necessity, and reducing labor requirements only threatens the financial security of workers under capitalism.

Right now, any workers facing unemployment or overwork due to automation via AI or other means should absolutely organize together and demand protections. But the culture war demonization of AI as some unique evil that threatens the sanctity and purity of art is reactionary and idealist, especially when it is bound up in intellectual property apologetics. If we don't have the correct view of AI, then we risk taking incorrect steps to combat any threats resulting from it.

The strengthening of copyright law, for example, is very much an incorrect step that would only serve capital at the expense of the masses. We should not be defending bourgeois and petit-bourgeois anxieties surrounding their property rights as if they have anything to do with the concerns of proletarian artists who are at risk of being laid off due to automation. Ensuring that IP holders get royalties from AI generation will not save jobs and will likely have ripple effects that threaten archival projects, search engines, and fan works. Not to mention that it would make any open source generative AI models basically impossible to develop or distribute legally.

So no, AI will not bring us communism. But reactionary anti-AI backlash will certainly not help either.

[bamgyuuuri]

Hi Amia mylove <3 How are you? hope you feeling well.xoxo So I saw you post that we can make a request sooooo here i am... I was listening a taylor swift song (aka Sl*t) and melt at the "In a world of boy he's a gentleman" and I was wondering If you could make a yeonjun or taehyun pov about it. here's a little suggestion <3 The dazzling lights of the Fashion show danced across the venue, casting shimmering reflections off the luxurious fabrics and golden décor. I was there, dressed to impress, trying to soak in the grandeur of it all. Yeonjun/Taehyun was also in the crowd, exuding effortless charm as he mingled and enjoyed the spectacle.

But midway through the show, the weight of everything overwhelmed me, and tears began to blur my vision. Just when I thought I could slip away unnoticed, a gentle yet familiar voice interrupted my spiral.

"Are you okay?" Yeonjun's / Taehyun's warm eyes met mine, his concern genuine.

I nodded, though my shaky breath betrayed me. Instead of walking away, he stayed, his presence grounding me. He didn’t push for answers; he just stayed, silently offering comfort.

Minutes passed, and slowly, my tears subsided. Yeonjun's/Taehyun's, noticing the calm returning to me, gently patted my head with a soft smile. "You're strong," he whispered before disappearing back into the crowd, leaving me with a heart pounding louder than ever. And the rest is all you can think<3 Love your story and the way you ADD the aesthesis pics relatable with the vibe too. Takecare <3 Jia.

⤷ flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard ┈ cyj.

pairings and tags. stranger!yeonjun x fashiondesigner!reader ft. bestfriend!yunjin . strangers to ??? slowburn . mentions of reader being anxious . yeonjun just being the sweetest man ever . yunjin too!! reader has imposter syndrome . meet cute . fond!jun . not 100% proofread!

word count. 10.5k

short note ... JIAAA omg this ask is so wonderful omg thank u so much for sending me this 🙏 your suggestion alone is already so good are you kidding?!?! i got carried away again help i’m so sorry it took so long T_T still, i hope you like it <3

the world of high fashion had always been more than a dream; it was an obsession. 

growing up, you’d fill every scrap of paper you could find with sketches of flowing gowns, structured suits, and intricate details that you imagined would one day captivate an audience. while other kids talked about their favorite celebrities, you admired designers, memorizing the way their collections evolved over the seasons.

you’d sit for hours in front of a tiny screen, watching grainy videos of runway shows, completely mesmerized. the way the fabric moved under the lights, how each design told a story, and the applause that followed—it all felt like magic. you dreamed of the day your creations would make it to those very runways, carried with grace by the world’s finest models.

but as you grew older, reality set in. 

talent alone wasn’t enough. you needed money to attend the right schools, connections to open the right doors, and the kind of opportunities that didn’t just fall into anyone’s lap. no matter how much you poured your heart into your work, the glittering world of high fashion remained frustratingly out of reach.

still, you didn’t stop creating. despite the constant reminder that you didn’t have the right pedigree or the right financial backing, you kept sketching. your tiny apartment became a refuge, the four walls an oasis where your imagination was free to roam without limitations. 

the clutter of fabric swatches, sketchbooks, and sewing supplies was a sign of your dedication, even if no one else saw it. it was in that small space, away from the world’s judgment, that your designs took shape. here, you were free to imagine worlds, to dream up creations that could make people feel something, even if those dreams never materialized into anything more than the pages of your sketchbook.

it was one of those quiet afternoons, the kind where the golden light of the sun filtered lazily through your windows, casting long shadows across your desk. you sat hunched over your sketchbook, pencil in hand, lost in the flow of your thoughts as you worked on your latest design.

but then, just as the idea you were sketching started to come to life, a sharp knock broke through your concentration. you paused, glancing toward the door with a furrowed brow. it was unusual to get visitors, especially during the middle of the day.

at first, you thought it was just a neighbor—maybe someone needing to borrow something or asking for a quick favor. you returned to your sketchbook, dismissing it as nothing more than a small interruption. but then, a second knock came, this time even louder, more insistent. your head snapped up, and you could hear the unmistakable sound of a voice calling your name, bright and full of energy.

"open up! it’s me!!" it was yunjin, her voice unmistakable and full of excitement, as though she had just walked in on the biggest surprise. the sound of her knocking grew more playful—she was determined to get your attention no matter what.

you sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you hadn’t expected a visit, but yunjin was the kind of person who could show up unannounced and immediately make everything feel lighter, even if you hadn’t been in the mood for company. shaking your head affectionately, you pushed your chair back and stood up.

when you opened the door, yunjin stood there, a whirlwind of energy and excitement. she had a bag of snacks in one hand, her phone and handbag on the other, and an expression that was equal parts mischief and joy.

"finally!" yunjin exclaimed, bursting through the door before you even had a chance to greet her. “i was starting to think you’d locked yourself away for good, like some kind of mysterious artist living off nothing but coffee and existential dread. tell me you’ve eaten something today.”

you raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes as a laugh bubbled up. "hello to you too, yunjin. and yes, i’ve eaten. thanks for asking, mother."

“oh, sure you have,” she said with a dramatic eye-roll, tossing a bag of snacks onto your counter with the flair of someone who had just conquered a great battle. "because the last time i visited, you were living off instant noodles and the sheer willpower of your creativity."

you crossed your arms, feigning offense. “hey, instant noodles are versatile!”

“sure they are,” she replied, not missing a beat as she rummaged through the bag like a woman on a mission. “well, lucky for you, i brought real food. pastries, chips, and—wait for it—fancy chocolates from my trip last week! you’re welcome.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you closed the door behind her, watching her make herself right at home. yunjin had always been like this—chaotic, energetic, and somehow always knowing when you needed a little bit of sunshine in your day.

“so, what’s the occasion?” you asked, leaning against the counter with a raised brow as she went about unpacking her treasure trove of snacks.

"what, can’t a girl visit her bestfriend without an ulterior motive?" she said, batting her lashes and feigning innocence in the most exaggerated way possible. "besides, what more could you possibly need?"

“well, maybe a chance to finally finish my sketches without being interrupted by you and your endless energy?” you teased, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

“impossible,” she replied with a dramatic gasp. "i bring joy, creativity, and snacks—not interruptions."

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “not when that best friend is currently occupied and you’re… you know, you.”

she gasped again, clutching her hand to her chest. “wow, the disrespect,” she said, feigning hurt. “but fine, if you must know, i do have a reason for being here.”

“i knew it,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but lean in, genuinely curious. “what is it?”

yunjin paused dramatically, glancing over her shoulder as though deciding how to reveal the greatest secret she’d ever had. her eyes gleamed mischievously, and she drew in a deep, theatrical breath, making sure to keep you hanging on every second. “you know how we talked about that crazy, exclusive fashion show happening next week?”

you nodded slowly, your mind already running through the possibilities. of course you knew about it—how could you not?

everyone in the fashion world had heard whispers about the event, the kind of event where designers showed off their best collections, where the elite mingled in their designer clothes. you’d followed every piece of news you could, dreaming of one day being part of something like that. “yeah, i remember. sounds… well, incredibly out of reach, but i do look forward to seeing snippets of the show online.”

she raised an eyebrow, her gaze filled with a spark you knew so well. "you think so?" she asked, her tone lighter, teasing. "well, i might have... something that could change your mind about that."

you tilted your head, your curiosity immediately piqued. “what are you talking about?”

yunjin didn’t answer right away. instead, she began rummaging through her bag, her hands diving in and out of the various pockets with exaggerated slowness. you watched, your breath catching in your throat, as her movements became more deliberate, each second of suspense building higher. her grin stretched wider as if she was savoring every moment.

you raised an eyebrow, amused, but also growing impatient. "seriously, just show me already."

she finally seemed to have found what she was ‘looking’ for, her fingers brushing against the envelope you hadn’t noticed earlier. your gaze locked onto it as she slowly pulled it out, the sleek, pristine exterior catching the light as if it were glowing in her hands. her expression was unreadable now—calm, composed, as though she was holding something sacred.

“this,” yunjin says, drawing out the moment to an excruciatingly slow pause, “is your ticket to one of the most exclusive fashion shows of the year.” her grin returned in full force, her excitement palpable, though she made no attempt to rush you. she just let the silence build as you tried to process what she was saying.

you blinked rapidly, unable to wrap your mind around it. "wait, are you—" you started to ask, but the words caught in your throat.

“oh, yes,” yunjin said, cutting you off with a wink, “a friend of mine owed me a big favor, and the first person i thought of when the opportunity came up was you, so..” she added, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, “you’re going.”

your heart stopped. you stared at the envelope, disbelief swirling inside you. this couldn’t be real. “no way,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “are you serious?”

yunjin’s grin only grew wider as she held the envelope out toward you, her excitement now matching yours, if not surpassing it. “absolutely serious. next week. front and center, you’re going!”

you glanced at the envelope, your fingers suddenly feeling too cold to touch it. everything you had dreamed of seemed so much more intimidating now that it was right in front of you. the thought of standing among the glamorous people at the show, of being seen, made your stomach churn.

you gulped as you finally found the courage to speak. “but what if... what if i don’t belong there? what if i embarrass myself? i’m not.. i’m not even sure i’ll fit in. i don’t even know what to wear—what if i’m not dressed properly for something so important?”

yunjin’s expression softened as she noticed the self-doubt clouding your tone. gently, she cupped your face with her hands, guiding you to meet her eyes. “hey,” she said, her voice calm yet full of conviction, “listen to me. you are more than enough to be in that world. more than enough. you’ve got the talent, the passion, the drive… everything it takes. don’t let anything trick you into thinking otherwise.”

her thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, her touch tender yet firm, as if to emphasize every word. “you’ve worked so hard for this, and you’ve earned it…! the world’s ready for you. you just need to believe it too.”

you tried to process her words, but the nagging voice of doubt still lingered in your mind. sensing your hesitation, yunjin’s smile softened even more. “if you’re worried about the outfit, you don’t need to stress about that either. i’ve got your back. i’ll help you pick something that not only fits perfectly, but makes you feel just as confident and amazing as you truly are, okay? you’ve got this, i promise.”

you blinked, the weight on your chest starting to lift just a little, replaced by a sense of warmth. her belief in you was like a steady anchor, grounding you, soothing the swirl of anxiety that had taken over your thoughts.

“thank you, yunjin,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as a lump formed in your throat. “i... i’m more than thankful.. i owe you a lot...”

yunjin’s smile returned, this time brighter and filled with warmth. she reached out and ruffled your hair playfully. “you don’t have to worry about that. i’ve got you, always. now, let’s get you ready to own this moment, yeah? we've got lots to do!”

with her confidence bolstering yours, you could feel a flicker of excitement slowly replacing the doubt. yunjin’s belief in you was more than just comforting—it was empowering. for the first time in a long while, you let yourself imagine that maybe, just maybe, this dream could be real. ꒰����꒱

the next few days blurred into an endless cycle of preparation. sketches, plans, and ideas occupied your waking hours, but amidst all of it, yunjin remained your anchor—a constant source of energy and reassurance. when she declared it was finally time to shop for the perfect outfit, you knew you were in for an adventure.

“i’ve cleared my whole day for this,” yunjin announced the moment you stepped into her car. she was wearing her usual bold confidence like a second skin, her oversized sunglasses perched atop her head. “today is all about you, and i won’t rest until we’ve found the one.”

“the one?” you echoed, buckling your seatbelt. “sounds like you’re taking me wedding dress shopping or something.”

“same thing, babe,” she quipped, tossing you a grin. “except instead of walking down the aisle, you’ll be strutting into a room full of people who need to know how incredible you are.”

her words settled in your chest, warm and reassuring, but before you could respond, she floored the accelerator. yunjin didn’t just drive; she commanded the road, weaving through traffic with a confidence that matched her personality.

the first store she dragged you into was as intimidating as you’d feared—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and racks of clothing that screamed “luxury.” the air even smelled expensive, a faint mix of bergamot and something floral. yunjin took one glance around and immediately zeroed in on a display of sequined dresses.

“you know,” you mused as you glanced around, “this place has incredible tailoring. look at that dart placement on that jacket—it’s genius.”

yunjin rolled her eyes fondly. “of course you’d notice the stitching before the silhouette. come on, focus. we’re not here to critique; we’re here to conquer.”

she dragged you toward a rack of outfits, pulling out pieces with the fervor of someone on a treasure hunt. “this,” yunjin then declared, plucking a vibrant emerald-green gown from the rack and holding it against you. “imagine walking into the show in this. jaws would drop.”

you raised an eyebrow, eyeing the dress skeptically. “jaws would drop because they’d think i’m trying to blind them.”

yunjin rolled her eyes, thrusting the dress into your arms. “try it on. trust me, you’ll look like a goddess.”

you sighed but complied, disappearing into the fitting room. when you emerged, yunjin gasped dramatically, her hands flying to her mouth. “oh my god. you’re stunning!”

“i look like a disco ball."

“a chic disco ball,” she corrected, circling you like a fashion critic. “but okay, maybe this isn’t the one. next!”

the shopping spree continued in a similar fashion—yunjin pulling outrageous outfits, you reluctantly trying them on, and both of you dissolving into laughter more often than not. at one point, she handed you a pair of neon yellow boots and insisted they were “the future of fashion.”

“yunjin, these look like construction worker boots dipped in highlighter,” you said, holding them up as though they might bite.

“and that’s why they’re iconic!” she shot back, her grin wide. “come on, just try them on. i need to see how they look with those pants you’re wearing.”

you groaned but slipped them on anyway. when you stepped out of the fitting room, yunjin burst out laughing so hard she nearly doubled over, clutching her stomach. “oh my god,” she wheezed, “you look like a high-fashion traffic cone.”

“you’re the one who told me to try them!” you shot back, kicking one foot out in mock frustration. “this is your fault.”

she wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing. “okay, okay, i admit it. maybe those were a bit... much.” then, her expression softened, and she stepped closer, fixing the hem of your sweater. “but seriously, you’re making everything look good. even those boots. you’re incredible.”

her sudden sincerity caught you off guard, and you felt a small, embarrassed smile tug at your lips. “you’re only saying that because i’m letting you drag me around like a dress-up doll.”

“nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “i mean it. you’re going to own that fashion show. they won’t know what hit them.”

with her words buoying you, you followed her through store after store, trying on an endless array of dresses, suits, shoes, and accessories. yunjin’s playful critiques kept you laughing the whole time.

“too sparkly. you’re not auditioning for a pop group,” she said of one dress.

“too boring. you’re not a corporate intern,” she dismissed another.

“now this—” she held up a dramatic cape-like jacket, “this says, ‘i am the moment.’”

“this says, ‘i’m about to take flight,’” you countered, shaking your head.

but amidst all the jokes and theatrics, there were moments where yunjin’s care for you shone through. when you hesitated to try on a fitted dress, worrying it might not suit you, she gently nudged you forward. “just try it,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “you’ll see what i see.”

and when you emerged wearing the dress, her reaction wasn’t over-the-top or playful this time. she simply smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made your chest tighten. “you’re beautiful,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “you belong there just right.”

you stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. “thank you,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t thank me,” she said, squeezing your hand. “just believe it.”

as the day wore on, the two of you eventually found the outfit—a sleek black dress with intricate detailing that was both elegant and bold. when you tried it on, you knew immediately it was the one.

yunjin clapped her hands together, beaming. “there it is! you’re going to look so good in this. it’s perfect.”

“you really think so?” you asked, turning to check the mirror for the hundredth time.

“no, i know so,” she said, her confidence unwavering. “and when you walk into that show, every single person in that room is going to see what i’ve seen all along—that you’re amazing.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“and you love me for it,” she shot back, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “now let’s get out of here before i bankrupt us both.”

as you left the store, bags in hand, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little braver. with yunjin by your side, the once-daunting prospect of the fashion show now felt... exciting. and as she launched into a story about some guy who’d cut her off in traffic earlier, you realized how lucky you were to have her by your side. ꒰🍦꒱

before you knew it, the day of the fashion show had arrived. the morning sun streamed through your apartment windows, casting a golden glow on the carefully chosen outfit hanging nearby—a testament to days of preparation, laughter, and yunjin’s unyielding faith in you.

though she couldn’t physically accompany you, her words of encouragement replayed in your head, steadying your nerves like a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“you’re going to kill it,” she’d said, her tone carrying a conviction that felt foreign to your own heart. “every single person in that room will wish they were as talented as you. just remember that.”

you replayed her words in your head like a mantra as you stepped out of the taxi, but the sight that greeted you made your stomach drop.

the venue was alive with energy, a level of grandeur you hadn’t quite prepared yourself for. flashing lights from paparazzi cameras created a chaotic strobe effect, casting fleeting shadows on the impeccably dressed crowd. there were celebrities you vaguely recognized, important figures with an air of effortless elegance, and designers moving with a sense of purpose that made your every hesitant step feel painfully out of place.

your chest tightened as you clutched the sleek envelope in your hand, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. “okay,” you whispered to yourself, taking a shaky breath. “you can do this. yunjin believes in you, so… you believe in you too.”

but your pep talk was cut short when someone brushed past you, their shoulder colliding with yours hard enough to make you stumble.

“sorry,” you mumbled instinctively, though the person didn’t so much as glance in your direction, their focus elsewhere.

your cheeks burned, even though no one else seemed to notice the exchange. pulling your bag closer to your side, you attempted to regroup, scanning the crowd for any indication of where you were supposed to go.

but there were no clear signs, no friendly staff member waving you toward an entrance. just a thrumming mass of glamour and purpose, every single person moving with an ease you envied.

you hesitated at the base of the grand staircase leading to the main doors, uncertainty rooting you in place. should you just walk in? was there someone you needed to check in with first?

gathering what little courage you had left, you decided to follow a group of attendees who were flashing similar envelopes to yours at a security guard near the entrance. their polished confidence made you feel like a lost child in comparison, but you forced yourself to mimic their movements.

“invitation?” the guard asked when you approached, his tone curt but professional.

you fumbled with the envelope, nearly dropping it in your haste to hand it over. “here—sorry—here you go,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

the guard scanned it with a practiced efficiency before nodding. “straight ahead, through the main doors,” he instructed, already turning his attention to the next person in line.

you murmured a quiet “thank you” and stepped inside, only to be immediately overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of the space.

the venue was breathtaking, a gilded labyrinth of elegance and extravagance. golden chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their soft glow casting a warm light over the sea of attendees. the hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

your earlier nerves returned with a vengeance as you tried to navigate the room, clutching your bag like a lifeline. every step felt tentative, as though you were walking on eggshells, terrified of drawing attention to yourself.

you scanned the crowd for any indication of where you were supposed to go, your eyes landing on a table near the back where a few attendees were collecting what looked like name cards. relief flooded you as you headed in that direction, only to falter when you realized there was a long line.

“of course,” you muttered under your breath, taking your place at the end of the queue.

when it was finally your turn, you stepped up to the table, your anxiety flaring under the attendant’s sharp gaze.

“name?” she asked briskly, her tone clipped but not unkind.

you stammered out your name, feeling your cheeks flush as she flipped through the cards with an almost agonizing slowness. each passing second stretched longer, the weight of her silence pressing down on your chest.

finally, she found your card and handed it to you with a curt nod. “row c, seat 13,” she said before turning her attention to the next person in line.

you stared at the card in your hand, a mix of relief and dread coursing through you. “row c,” you murmured to yourself, your voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.

now came the next challenge: finding it.

the seating area was a maze of rows and sections, each one more crowded than the last. you wove through the throng of attendees, muttering soft apologies as you accidentally bumped into shoulders and bags. every misstep felt amplified, your nerves magnifying the smallest of stumbles.

“excuse me,” you said softly, trying to squeeze past a particularly dense group of people. when they didn’t move, you tried again, louder this time, only to be met with indifferent glances.

your frustration bubbled just beneath the surface, but you swallowed it down, determined not to let it show. instead, you approached a staff member stationed near the aisle. “hi, um, can you point me to row c?” you asked, your voice laced with desperation.

the staff member gestured vaguely to the left. “over there, by the center aisle.”

you nodded your thanks and hurried in the indicated direction, only to find yourself once again weaving through clusters of people. your pulse quickened as you scanned the rows, your eyes darting between the seat numbers and the impatient glances of those around you.

just when you were about to lose hope, you finally spotted your seat. never have you ever felt this glad to see the number 13 in your life. a wave of relief washed over you as you sank into the plush chair, clutching your bag to your chest like a shield.

your heart was still racing, but for the first time since arriving, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. you’d made it. barely, but you’d made it.

as you adjusted your posture, trying to appear more composed than you felt, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered, maybe you do belong here after all.

you now watch as the venue slowly fills up with people, the hum of conversation around you growing louder and more animated with each passing moment. the seats beside you begin to fill as well, the air charged with an excitement you’re not entirely sure you can match.

your hands grip the edge of your seat as you try to steady your breathing. it should be comforting to see others settling in, but instead, it only makes your chest tighten. the reality of the moment is starting to sink in: you’re here. the event is real. and soon, you’ll be sitting through a show filled with people who belong to this world, while you’re still wondering if you truly do, too.

your thoughts spiral, every worst-case scenario playing out in your mind. what if someone talks to you? what if you say something wrong? what if you trip on your way out?

“okay, stop,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as though you can physically dislodge the anxiety from your mind. you take a deep breath, willing the oxygen to calm your racing heart. “you’re fine. you’re fine. it’s just another room of people, that’s all.”

but just as you’re beginning to regain some semblance of control, your nerves decide to betray you in the most inconvenient way possible.

you feel the telltale pressure building, and your stomach drops. of course the anxiety wasn’t enough—now you have to pee.

you glance around the venue, trying to locate the restrooms without looking too obvious about it. but the thought of weaving through the growing crowd again makes you want to crawl under your seat and hide.

“great timing,” you mutter sarcastically, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “just perfect.”

you sit there, locked in an internal battle that’s as ridiculous as it is frustrating. your mind races through every possible consequence of leaving your seat. what if i lose my spot? what if someone takes it? what if i come back and look completely out of place? but none of those worries are quite as pressing as the growing discomfort making it increasingly hard to sit still.

you cross and uncross your legs, trying to buy yourself a little more time, but it’s no use. the urge is only getting stronger, and you know you can’t wait until after the show.

“ugh, fine,” you groan under your breath, earning a curious glance from the person sitting two seats away. you shoot them an apologetic smile before rising reluctantly to your feet. “just my luck,” you mutter to yourself as you gather your courage and step into the growing tide of people.

navigating through the crowd feels like threading a needle—while blindfolded. you weave your way through clusters of people, murmuring “excuse me” after “sorry,” but your politeness doesn’t seem to be contagious.

a sharp elbow clips your shoulder, and a tall man doesn’t even glance back as he strides past. “oh, sure, it’s not like i’m here or anything,” you grumble under your breath, rubbing the spot.

as you inch closer to the hallway that leads to the restrooms, a pair of women standing in the middle of the walkway are too engrossed in their conversation to notice they’re blocking the path. you hesitate for a moment, then clear your throat gently.

“um, excuse me,” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

they both glance at you with identical raised eyebrows, as though you’ve just interrupted a royal decree. one of them steps aside with a huff, the other muttering something you can’t quite catch—but it doesn’t sound kind.

“thank you so much,” you say with a tight smile, though your tone drips with sarcasm. they don’t respond, already turning back to their conversation as if you don’t exist.

you sigh, pushing forward and silently willing yourself to get through this without any further incidents. but as you turn the corner, another hurdle awaits—a woman balancing a cup of coffee in one hand and a clipboard in the other. she’s standing directly in front of the sign pointing to the restrooms, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s blocking the way.

“excuse me,” you try again, louder this time.

she glances up, frowns, and moves just enough for you to squeeze by, muttering something about “people in a hurry.”

“yeah, sorry for having basic human needs,” you mutter under your breath as you finally spot the restroom door like it’s a beacon of hope in a stormy sea.

the second you finally finish your business, you feel the sudden relief of having taken care of that problem. you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. but as you wash your hands, the booming sound of music filters through the walls. the show is starting. right now.

you glance nervously at the mirror, quickly dabbing at your face to fix any stray smudges of makeup. with shaky hands, you apply a final coat of lipstick, then press your palms against the countertop to steady yourself.

okay, okay, you’ve got this. the show’s starting, but you’re still here, still in it. still feeling a strange sense of excitement that makes your heart race even faster. the overwhelming mix of anticipation and nerves makes you feel lightheaded, like you could burst into action any moment.

with a deep breath, you push the door open and make a beeline for the hallway, your steps quickening as you feel the pressure of time.

but as you reach the end of the hallway, you freeze.

the venue was already packed.

no way.

the moment you step back into the main room, it’s like hitting a brick wall of bodies. people are everywhere—standing in groups, chatting animatedly, glancing at their phones, adjusting outfits, and striding toward their seats. you try to push through, but it’s like swimming upstream.

the sea of people presses in from all sides, making every step feel like a struggle. you try to sidestep a couple who are blocking the narrow path ahead, but they’re moving in tandem, oblivious to your presence. perfect.

your anxiety was beginning to creep back up again. i’m never going to get back to my seat at this rate.

you glance over at the packed rows, scanning for your spot, but there’s no way to tell where you’re supposed to go. your seat is just another tiny speck in the ocean of people.

you start moving in the direction of the seats, but it’s like trying to navigate through a dense fog. the buzz of chatter and the low hum of the music overwhelm your senses, making it even harder to focus. you have to keep reminding yourself that you’re actually here, that you’ve worked so hard to get to this point, but the sheer chaos around you makes it feel like you’re suffocating.

why is this so difficult? you think, frustration starting to bubble up. i should be enjoying this, right?

every time you think you’re getting closer to an opening in the crowd, someone else steps in front of you, forcing you to backtrack or dodge around them. this isn’t happening right now, is it?

as you tried to push through the crowd again, your determination was slipping with each passing second. you could feel the panic rising in your chest, and despite all the preparation, despite all the effort yunjin had put into getting you here, you felt utterly lost. 

this was supposed to be the moment. you thought, but the weight of the situation was crushing you, and even yunjin’s encouraging words were starting to feel distant, like they didn’t belong in this overwhelming mess of people and lights.

you tried to steady yourself, but the crowd was relentless. and then, without warning, your heel caught on someone’s foot, and you were falling, knees slamming against the hard floor with a painful jolt.

you barely had time to register the fall before the sound of laughter from nearby voices filled your ears. you quickly glanced up, hoping for some sign of help, but no one made a move to assist you. the people around you seemed too preoccupied with their own lives to even notice you struggling.

a lump formed in your throat as you slowly pushed yourself up, hands shaking as you planted them on the floor to lift yourself back to your feet. each movement felt like a struggle, like everything was working against you. your breathing was shallow, your heart racing in your chest.

you stood there for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the nearest chair, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through your mind. you could hear the music in the distance, the thumping bass marking the beginning of the show.

it’s starting. it’s really starting.

but all the excitement you’d felt earlier evaporated into a thick fog of frustration and helplessness. the models were already walking down the runway, the crowd shifting in their place to watch, but all you could do was stand there, neck craned, doing your best to balance on your toes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of anything, but it was impossible. the people in front of you were taller, wider, blocking every possible view.

your shoulders slumped as the tears threatened to spill over. this was it. all this preparation, all the effort... for nothing.

your breath hitched as you felt the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. this was the moment where everything seemed to fall apart. you couldn’t see, you couldn’t even get to your seat, and you were starting to feel like an imposter in the midst of all these people who belonged.  a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you glanced around, searching desperately for something—anything—to hold onto. but all you saw were backs turned to you, figures moving seamlessly, like they were all part of a rhythm you couldn’t quite catch. the room felt like it was swallowing you whole, and the tears blurred your vision, making the dazzling lights above seem like distant stars. you bit the inside of your cheek, a futile attempt to pull yourself together, but even that wasn’t enough. the weight of it all was crashing down, and for a moment, you thought you might drown in it.

but before you could spiral any further into your self-doubt, a gentle but firm hand suddenly landed on your shoulder, making you freeze in your tracks. the touch was unexpected, like an anchor that yanked you out of the chaotic whirlwind of your thoughts, pulling you back from the brink of complete panic. your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, everything else disappeared—the crowd, the overwhelming noise, the pulsating lights of the venue. it was just that hand, warm and steady against your skin, grounding you in a way that felt both foreign and comforting all at once.

you turned, startled, and found yourself looking up into a pair of dark eyes, calm and steady, as though they could see right through the chaos in your head. there was something in the way he looked at you that made everything, just for a second, seem less daunting.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and reassuring, “you alright?”

you blinked up at him, unable to speak at first. the confusion, the stress, your glossy eyes, the overwhelming feeling of being out of place all mingled together, but his calm presence was like a lifeline.

he offered you a small, comforting smile. “you look like you could use a hand.”

you swallowed hard, still trying to calm the rapid thud of your heart, but the tightness in your chest refused to loosen. the noise around you felt deafening now, and you could feel the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill. you blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the room was spinning, the air suffocating.

“i—i’m sorry,” you stuttered, your voice shaky as you attempted to explain, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i’m... i’m lost. i can’t... i can’t find my seat, and i don’t know how to—i... i’m not supposed to be here. i-i can’t see anything, and everything’s so crowded, and i just—” you stopped, the words sticking in your throat, feeling hopelessly tangled. your hands trembled at your sides, and your breath hitched in your chest.

a concerned look immediately fell upon the man’s face, his brows furrowing as he watched you struggle to steady yourself. without hesitation, he reached forward, gently taking your trembling hands in his own. the warmth of his palms against yours was grounding, and he brought your hands together, holding them securely in his grasp.

“hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and low, “it’s okay. just breathe for me, alright? just one deep breath. in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

his thumbs brushed lightly over the backs of your hands as if to anchor you further, his touch firm yet reassuring. “it’s alright,” he continued, his tone calm and measured, “you’re okay. i’ve got you. take it one breath at a time.”

you hesitated, your chest still tight, but his steady presence made it easier to focus on his words. closing your eyes briefly, you forced yourself to follow his instructions. a deep inhale through your nose, then a slow, shaky exhale through your mouth.

“there you go,” he encouraged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “one more for me. just like that. in... and out.”

you repeated the process, your breaths gradually evening out. the storm of panic that had consumed you began to ebb, leaving behind a fragile sense of clarity.

“that’s it,” he said softly, his hands still holding yours. “you’re doing great.”

you opened your eyes, the sting of tears still present but no longer overwhelming. his gaze met yours, steady and full of kindness, and for the first time that night, you felt like you weren’t entirely alone.

the man offered you yet another one of his gentle smiles before his free hand disappeared into his pocket. he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, holding it out for you to take, the motion so natural and considerate that it caught you off guard.

“here,” he said softly, as though he knew you were on the verge of refusing. “it’s clean, don’t worry.”

you sniffled, hesitating for a moment, but the kind look in his eyes left you no choice but to accept. “thank you,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you took the handkerchief.

it felt soft and well-cared-for, and you pressed it gently against your cheeks, wiping away the tears that clung stubbornly to your skin. as your vision cleared, you instinctively looked up to return the handkerchief, but then...

oh.

your breath caught in your throat as you got a proper look at him for the first time.

he was... wow.

the kind of breathtaking you’d read about in novels or seen in perfectly lit photoshoots. his features were sharp and refined, yet there was something warm and approachable about the way he carried himself. his dark eyes held an undeniable depth, a mix of intensity and softness that made it hard to look away. his hair framed his face effortlessly, and the hint of a grin playing on his lips seemed almost out of place with how gentle he’d been just moments ago.

as if sensing your flusteredness, the man let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and surprisingly soothing. his head tilted slightly, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he nodded in understanding. "it’s okay," he said gently, his voice carrying an unspoken reassurance that he wasn’t judging you. "just making sure you’re really alright."

you managed a small smile, your heart still beating a little too quickly—not just from the chaos of moments ago, but now from the way he was looking at you, like you were someone worth paying attention to.

just then, the commentator’s voice echoed through the venue, announcing the next set of pieces about to grace the runway. the subtle shift in the atmosphere reminded you where you were, though it didn’t stop your stomach from flipping nervously all over again.

“looks like we don’t have much time,” the man said, his gaze flicking toward the direction of the commentator’s voice before returning to you. without hesitation, he extended his hand, palm up, his fingers slightly curled in invitation. “come on. let’s get you somewhere with a better view.”

you stared at his hand, your breath hitching slightly as hesitation crept in. could you really trust him? this stranger who had been kind to you when no one else even noticed? your fingers twitched at your sides, uncertainty coiling in your chest. what if this was some elaborate prank? or worse, what if you embarrassed yourself even more by blindly following someone you didn’t know?

but then you looked up, meeting his gaze again. his eyes were steady, unyielding yet soft, as if silently telling you that it was okay. there was no rush, no pressure—just the quiet reassurance of someone willing to help.

with a deep breath, you slowly reached out, your hand brushing against his before you fully placed it in his. his grip was firm but careful, his warmth grounding you instantly.

“there we go,” he said, his lips curving into a gentle smile, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. “trust me, you won’t regret it.”

꒰🍦꒱

as he led you through the crowd, weaving effortlessly between clusters of people, you couldn’t help but cast a skeptical glance around. the farther you went, the more unfamiliar the path seemed, and unease began to bubble in your chest.

“uh, where exactly are we going?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you noticed the thinning crowd around you. the lights grew dimmer, and the sounds of chatter and camera flashes faded into the background.

he glanced back at you, his smile still intact but now carrying a hint of mischief. “someplace better.”

“better?” you echoed, eyebrows furrowing as you looked around the increasingly exclusive-looking hallway. “this... doesn’t look like a public area.”

he chuckled lightly at your tone, the sound rich and melodic. “just trust me,” he said again, his grip on your hand steady as he led you past a velvet rope that you were almost certain regular attendees weren’t allowed to cross.

“this is off-limits, isn’t it?” you pressed, your voice dropping to a whisper as your eyes darted around, half-expecting someone to stop you. “are we going to get in trouble?”

“relax,” he said, his tone reassuring but laced with amusement. “you’re with me.”

“and who exactly are you?” you muttered under your breath, half to yourself, but he must’ve heard because he chuckled again, this time more quietly, as though enjoying your skepticism.

finally, after navigating a winding staircase and passing through an unassuming doorway, he stepped aside and gestured for you to step forward. you hesitated, peering inside, but the sight that greeted you left you momentarily speechless.

the balcony lounge stretched out before you, a space elevated high above the main floor. plush seating and dim lighting exuded exclusivity, while the glass barrier at the edge provided a breathtaking view of the entire venue.

“wow,” you breathed out, unable to stop the word from tumbling out as you stepped closer to the glass barrier. the view was breathtaking—perfect in every sense. from here, you could see the entire venue laid out like a grand tapestry. the runway stretched out in a seamless line, illuminated by artful lights that bathed it in a radiant glow. models moved gracefully, their outfits shimmering like living art, and the audience’s reactions created a living pulse that filled the space.

your fingers lightly brushed against the cool glass as you leaned closer, your wide eyes drinking in every detail. “this is... unbelievable. it’s perfect,” you murmured, almost to yourself, as though afraid the words would break the magic of the moment.

behind you, the man watched, his grin growing. he leaned his elbows on the railing, his posture casual, but his gaze was anything but. he seemed entirely captivated—not by the view of the runway, but by you.

his amusement deepened as you watches you press a hand over your heart, still marveling at the scene below. the way you took it all in, so openly and earnestly, made him forget, for a fleeting moment, where you even were.

he let his gaze linger—on the way the soft lighting kissed your features, the faint remnants of tears you’d wiped away earlier adding a delicate vulnerability to your expression. he found himself studying the small details: the curve of your lips as you whispered to yourself, the way your fingers traced the glass as though committing the view to memory.

but then you turned abruptly, catching him mid-thought. your eyes, still wide with wonder, locked with his. his breath hitched slightly, but he masked it with a sheepish chuckle, pushing himself off the railing.

“you still didn’t answer my question,” you said, tilting your head slightly. there was a curious sharpness to your tone, but it was softened by the lingering gratitude in your gaze. "who are you?"

his grin returned, wider this time, his earlier moment of surprise replaced by easy charm. “ah, you caught me,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “my name's... yeonjun.”

he extended a hand towards you once more, his movements fluid and confident. “and you are?”

you nodded slightly in acknowledgment, offering your name as your hand met his, your voice steady but carrying a thread of bashfulness. his fingers were warm against yours, the handshake firm yet oddly gentle. the touch lingered for a fraction longer than necessary, a subtle pause that neither of you commented on. when you both pulled away, you cleared your throat, the small noise cutting through the charged silence.

the quiet that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried a certain weight, filled with the quiet sounds of the fashion show below. the models moved like art in motion, their outfits catching the dramatic lighting as they walked with precision and elegance. the audience’s murmur blended with the music, creating an atmosphere that was both electric and intimate.

you leaned slightly against the barrier, completely taken by the view. the exclusivity of the lounge afforded you an unobstructed panorama of the venue, and for the first time all night, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be. the glistening runway, the precision of the models, the applause—it all felt surreal, like stepping into a dream.

beside you, yeonjun shifted slightly, his arms resting lazily on the railing as he turned his gaze toward you. his expression softened as he took in the way your eyes sparkled, your awe so apparent it made his lips curve into a fond smile. you were so wrapped up in the scene before you, that you didn’t notice his gaze lingering. he couldn’t help but wonder if you even realized how effortlessly captivating you looked in that moment. “so,” you spoke suddenly, breaking the quiet with a slight turn of your head toward him, completely unaware of the way he quickly snapped his eyes back to the show. “how do you even know about this place? and how are you able to be in such an exclusive part of the venue?”

yeonjun blinked, his lips quirking into a mischievous smile as he leaned back, his hands casually resting against the railing. “ah, you’ve caught me,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of teasing. “let’s just say... i have my ways.”

your brow furrowed, crossing your arms in playful disbelief. “that’s it? ‘i have my ways?’”

he chuckled, the sound deep and warm, his shoulders shifting slightly as he leaned closer to you with a grin. “well, what else do you want me to say?” he teased, his voice low and smooth. “i can’t just give away all my secrets in one go.”

you raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “you’re not exactly giving away any secrets.”

“true,” he conceded with a shrug, the glint of amusement never leaving his eyes. “but that’s the fun of it, isn’t it?”

“the fun of being vague?” you countered, though there was an undeniable twinkle of curiosity in your gaze. “so, what exactly do you do? are you in fashion too? a model? designer? photographer?”

yeonjun hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin in mock contemplation. “why don’t you take a guess?” he said, his tone teasing, clearly enjoying the vagueness.

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn't suppress the small smile that tugged at your lips. “this is ridiculous. you’re impossible.”

“impossible?” yeonjun repeats with a smirk, clearly unfazed by your challenge. “nah, i’m just... fun.” he flashed a wink, his voice smooth as honey. “besides, who wouldn’t want to leave a little mystery?”

you rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. "you sure love being mysterious, huh?" the question was playful, but you couldn't shake the sense that there was more to him than he was letting on.

yeonjun just chuckled softly, and there was something about the sound—rich, smooth, and unhurried—that made it feel like the world around you slowed for just a second. it was like you were both in on some private joke, sharing the moment despite the crowd around you. you didn’t mind the silence between you two; it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was just peaceful, like the calm after a storm.

just then, the third set of pieces emerged on the runway, and your breath caught in your throat as you took in the intricate details, the stunning designs. you couldn’t help but feel a thrill rise up inside you as you watched the models glide down the runway. the way the fabric moved, the way the pieces complemented the models' bodies—it was all so... perfect.

you leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling with excitement as you pointed out the dress that had caught your eye. “look at that one,” you said, your voice filled with awe. “the fabric—it's so delicate, but the design is so strong. and the color, it’s not just a plain red. it has this... depth, like layers of crimson blending together. the pleats on the skirt, the texture—it’s all so well-thought-out.”

yeonjun’s gaze flickered toward you, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise as he watched you closely, as though trying to figure out how you could notice all these details with such intensity. “you really know your stuff,” he remarked, his voice thick with amusement. “how can you notice all those details? most people wouldn’t even see half of that.”

you paused mid-rant, your excitement temporarily muted by the attention. your cheeks flushed slightly as you felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness. “well,” you said, hesitating for just a moment, “i... i’m acatually an aspiring fashion designer.”

yeonjun’s eyes softened at that, and there was a flicker of something in them—something... intrigued, maybe? he leaned in just a little, his posture shifting to show more interest. “an aspiring designer, huh?” he repeated, his tone surprisingly gentle for someone who’d been so teasing moments ago. “i should’ve known. there’s no way anyone could appreciate the details as much as you do unless they had an eye for design.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how understanding he sounded. you glanced down at your hands for a moment, suddenly feeling a little more vulnerable. “i’ve been working on some of my own pieces, but, you know... still figuring things out.”

yeonjun seemed to notice your hesitation, and his expression softened even more, though there was a glimmer of something playful in his eyes. “figuring things out is part of the process,” he said, his voice rich with warmth. “trust me, i’ve been there too.”

you glanced up at him, surprised by how genuine he sounded. “you have?” you asked, almost disbelieving.

he gave a small nod, his gaze briefly turning distant, as though lost in a memory. "yeah. the fashion world isn’t as easy as people think. but the ones who stick with it... they make it in the end."

there was a brief pause, and you took in his words, the weight of them settling on you. you weren’t sure why, but something about him made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t so far from your dream after all.

“thanks,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. it was more than just gratitude—it was a quiet affirmation that maybe you were on the right path, after all. ꒰🍦꒱ as the models continued to walk down the runway, you couldn’t help but get lost in the details of every piece. each look had its own story to tell, and you felt an overwhelming urge to share that excitement with someone, anyone.

yeonjun, fortunately, was right there, listening with quiet amusement as you rambled on.

"oh my gosh, look at that one!" you exclaimed, leaning slightly forward, pointing to a model in a simple yet striking gown. “the draping is just... it’s absolutely flawless. see how the fabric hugs the body and then just cascades out at the bottom? it’s almost like it has a life of its own. like the material is alive, you know? and the way it catches the light—"

yeonjun nodded, still watching you with that soft smile. “i see it. you’re right, it’s like the fabric is moving with the model, almost like it’s breathing with them.”

you looked at him briefly, surprised at how well he was following along. “exactly!” you said, your voice full of excitement. “and see the next one? the detailing on the neckline—it’s so delicate but intricate at the same time. the tiny beads embroidered around the collar, it adds this elegant touch, almost like it’s a necklace built into the fabric.” yeonjun could only chuckle lightly, amused by the way your eyes lit up every time you spotted something new.

you pointed again, this time at a model in a dress with a sharp, angular hem. “look at the sharpness of those edges! it’s almost architectural, like someone sculpted the fabric into that shape. it gives such a bold, confident vibe!”

yeonjun chuckled softly, watching her animated gestures with a twinkle in his eye. “hmm, you're spot on. such sharp, clean lines.”

“right? and the fabric choice, too. it has this stiffness to it, but not in an uncomfortable way—more like it’s meant to stand up on its own.” you beamed, caught up in the details.

his eyes softened. “you really notice everything, huh?"

you waved him off, already distracted by the next model. “oh, and this one! the way the sleeves puff out like that, it’s so dramatic but playful at the same time! and the fabric’s so airy—it looks like the model’s floating in it!”

yeonjun's gaze stayed on you, amused. “floating, huh? you make it sound so magical.”

“it is magical!” you responded, almost laughing at how much you’d already gotten lost in the runway. “and look at this one—look at how the waist is cinched so perfectly, giving the whole outfit such a nice structure, but it doesn’t feel too stiff. the way it moves... it's like it was made for the model’s body.”

yeonjun smiled, nodding. “i couldn't agree more.”

as the show continued, you kept going, pointing out the minute details that caught your eye, from the slight pleats on the edges of a sleeve to the way the fabric billowed out like a cloud. yeonjun simply listened, always agreeing with a small nod, a quiet “mhm” or “i see it,” but mostly, he just watched you, the way you effortlessly lost yourself in the designs.

you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d felt so... alive. It was as if you were standing right in the middle of a dream, and you weren’t afraid to look at every single detail that made it so perfect.

and yeonjun? well, he just couldn’t take his eyes off you.

once the event came to its dreaded end, you couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly in disappointment. you pouted just a little, your lips forming a soft, almost melancholic curve. “i miss it already,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, as if the emptiness left by the show weighed heavily on you. “it feels like it ended too soon.”

yeonjun, who had been watching you the whole time with that subtle, amused smile, chuckled softly in response. it was a warm sound, almost affectionate, as if he found your sincere reaction endearing. "yeah, it’s always like that,” he agreed, his voice rich with fondness. “time flies when you’re caught up in something that amazing.”

you sighed again, almost as if you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something so beautiful had come to an end far too quickly. "i wish i could’ve stayed in that moment a little longer. it felt... perfect."

yeonjun’s smile widened just a bit, and he leaned against the railing, his gaze flickering between you and the slowly clearing crowd. "you made the most of it, though," he said, voice steady and reassuring. “not many people would’ve appreciated every little detail like you did. that’s something special.”

you glanced over at him, a soft blush rising to your cheeks at his words. "i guess i got a little carried away," you admitted with a shy laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. the thought of how you had been rambling with excitement made your heart skip a little. "but, i mean, how could i not? it was all just... breathtaking."

his eyes softened at your response, and he gave you a playful, knowing smile. "it’s nice to see someone so passionate about it," he said, his voice light but carrying a layer of sincerity. "you really got lost in the moment."

as the last few guests started trickling out of the venue, the noise around you began to swell, the sounds of chatter and the click of high heels filling the air. the once intimate atmosphere of the show now felt overwhelming with the crowds, the room suddenly feeling far too cramped.

yeonjun’s eyes scanned the space briefly, his expression thoughtful. then, without missing a beat, he looked back at you and raised an eyebrow. "i know a less crowded way out," he said, his voice calm amidst the growing chaos. "let me lead you out. wouldn't want you getting lost in this crowd."

you glanced around at the sea of people, their voices blending together in a cacophony, and immediately felt a little more anxious. you didn’t want to get lost in the rush of people, and his offer seemed like the perfect solution. after a moment of hesitation, you finally let out a soft breath and placed your hand in his, your fingers brushing against his palm with a fleeting but comforting touch.

“thank you. again,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the quiet sincerity of it making you feel strangely grounded in the midst of everything.

he gave your hand a light squeeze, his smile growing just a little warmer, more genuine. "anything for the most enthusiastic fashion designer slash critic i know," he teased lightly, his tone playful but kind.

you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling an unexpected warmth blooming inside you. you wanted to ask more, know more about him, but the moment felt so peaceful, and for once, you were content to just be present.

with a subtle nod, yeonjun led you through a quiet, hidden exit, avoiding the growing crowds of people who were starting to spill out into the streets. the path he guided you down felt like a secret, and somehow, you didn’t question it. instead, you were more than glad to have met someone as kind-hearted as him on what was turning out to be one of the most important days of your life.

once you were out of the building, the bustling noise from the show seemed so far behind you. yeonjun, still holding your hand, walked with a calm ease, his presence making the city’s energy feel just a little more bearable. his touch was like an anchor, steady and reassuring.

“let’s get you to a car,” yeonjun said as he turned toward a sleek limo waiting nearby. you blinked in surprise as he casually waved to the driver, the gesture effortlessly commanding attention.

you paused, a small frown tugging at your lips as you shook your head. “what? oh, i couldn’t possibly—”

but yeonjun wasn’t having it. with a playful smile, he waved off your hesitation. “oh, come on,” he said, his tone coaxing yet gentle. “it’s not every day i get to be this chivalrous.” he gestured toward the car with a teasing glint in his eyes. “besides, you’ve earned it.”

before you could protest further, yeonjun ushered you toward the limo with a gentle hand on your back. you sighed, defeated by his insistent kindness, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. his warmth, his attentiveness—it was all so comforting.

as you climbed into the car, you took a deep breath, sinking back against the plush seat, the quiet hum of the limo's engine making everything feel just a little bit surreal. once you were settled in, you turned to yeonjun, your eyes filled with gratitude.

“thank you, yeonjun,” you said again, your voice filled with so much gratitude that it almost felt like the words themselves couldn’t fully express what you were feeling. “really. for everything,” you continued, your gaze soft and sincere. “i don’t even know how to explain it, but… i honestly wouldn’t have made it through today without you. you made all the difference—more than you could know.”

yeonjun gave a small, dismissive shrug, his eyes glinting with an almost mischievous gleam. “it’s nothing, really” he said casually, though there was something in his voice that suggested he truly meant it. “if it's any consolation, your company and your little rant was something i truly enjoyed.”

the words, simple as they were, made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t quite expected. you nodded, smiling softly. but before you could say anything else, yeonjun’s expression shifted, becoming slightly more serious. “well then, see you soon.”

taglist! @pagelets , @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @dawngyu, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @sxmmerberries, @napipope-ta, @bamgeutori, @xylatox <3 (click here if you would like to be adder !! ^^)

[thesirencult]

WHY INVESTING IN YOURSELF WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

"The best thing you can do is to be exceptionally good at something," said Buffett. He added, "Whatever abilities you have can't be taken away from you. They can't actually be inflated away from you. ... So the best investment by far is anything that develops yourself, and it's not taxed at all."

- Warren Buffet

There is a reason people call Mr. Buffet the "Oracle/Sage Of Omaha".

Not only he is great at asset management and making the right predictions when it comes to the financial markets, but he is also very wise and offers great advice.

Investing in your own self is the only type of investment you can make that is absolutely safe and guaranteed to give you a return on investment that would satisfy you.

Knowledge is fuel. You are the vehicle.

We are living in times of abundance. Knowledge and data curation is the hottest skill someone can learn right now. That's what AI models like ChatGPT do. They curate useful data from trash. That's what you should also do with your mind. Throw out what's hindering your growth and feed your brain with nutritious food for thought.

We are nearing the "Age Of Abundance", the Golden Saturnian Age of our times. Don't fall into oblivion.

The resources are within a finger's reach. You are actually holding the most precious asset in your hands right now, that's how I reached you.

Whoever takes advantage of this situation will succeed.

Read books, articles, essays. Watch videos and documentaries. Educate yourself for free. If you have the ability to get a university degree for free, do it ! Don't fall in the trap of "degrees are useless". Instead choose to educate yourself in subjects that interest you and make you even more savvy. Invest in evergreen skills. Learn content creation, marketing and money management. Study philosophy to learn the art of critical thinking.

In the next 10 years we will all transform from 9 to 5 slaves to freelancers and one-person businesses. This is where we are headed. Notice all the lay-offs and how artificial intelligence has taken the world by storm.

Be proactive.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Analysis: Cannery Row (Cultural References)

John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row (1945) opens with the following declaration:

“Cannery Row in Monterey California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream” (1).

Set in a fictionalized version of Cannery Row in Monterey, California, Steinbeck uses his cast of homeless people, drunks and prostitutes to express profound truths about humanity. 

Abacus (6): A counting device that was used before the creation of calculators.

Belles-lettres (64): A type of literary work, one that is usually expressed in essays, poetry and deals with intellectual subject matter.

Beret (123): A soft hat that has no bill and no brim. Often worn in the military.

Billings, Josh (61): The pen name for Henry Wheeler Shaw, a respected humorist of the 20th century.

Black Marigolds (171): A poem written by E. Powys Mathers.

Bloomer League (140): A baseball league that was comprised primarily of women that started during the early 1900’s.

Carborundum (90): Another name for silicon carbide, which is the sole chemical compound of carbon and silicon.

Chalmers (154): A type of car that was created and sold during the early 1900’s.

Chorea (144): An illness that causes involuntary movement in various parts of the body.

Collier’s (magazine) (139): Founded by Peter Collier, Collier’s Once a Week debuted in 1888 and went on to become one of America’s most popular magazines.

Count Basie (114): A prominent figure during the swing period of jazz, as well as a good example of big band style.

Dadaist (122): An artist or a writer who practiced Dada, a movement that rejected traditional art and contemporary culture.

Daisy Air Rifle (104): A brand of rifle created by the historic Daisy company.

Distemper (134): An infection in dogs that can be diagnosed through symptoms of a runny nose, poor appetite, and coughing.

“Fighting Bob” (111): A reference to Robert M. La Follette Sr. fight against Washington and other politicians who choose to enter WWI.

Ford Model T (61, 106): A truck built by Ford Motor Company.

The Great Depression (16): A result of the 1929 stock market crash, which left many Americans without money or jobs.

Great Fugue (163): A musical work by Beethoven.

Goiter (97): The enlargement of the thyroid gland.

Influenza (89): An infection more commonly known as the “flu.” It was responsible for claiming the lives of millions worldwide before effective vaccines were created to treat and prevent it.

Knights of Columbus (130): A Catholic organization that seeks to aid family members within the organization who are in financial need.

Knights Templar (130): A group of knights who originated in Jerusalem during the year of 1119. Though shrouded in mystery, the Knights Templar are believed to have protected the Holy Grail.

Laudanum (107): A mixture of opium and derivatives of alcohol.

Masonic Lodge (104): A meeting place for Freemasons or former Freemasons.

Mastoids (89): The skull bones that house the ear.

Mastoiditis (90): Mastoiditis occurs when an infection in the middle ear spreads to the mastoids and then causes an infection that produces fevers and headaches.

Monteverdi’s Hor ch’ el Ciel e la Terra (119): A song by the Italian musician Claudio Monteverdi, who lived in the 16th and 17th century.

Novena (88): A prayer that is said over a nine-day period that requests a special favor from God.

“Panama Pacific International Exposition of 1915” (111): The 1915 Worlds Fair that was held in San Francisco, California.

Petrarch (119): A famous writer of the 14th century who is credited with being the founding father of Humanism.

Point Lobos (64): A state reserve on the central coast of California in Monterey County.

Prohibition (72): A move by the United States government to reduce the amount of alcohol consumed in the United States through limiting individuals and businesses who sold alcohol.

Purse Seiners (67): Fishing boats equipped to fish with a purse seine, a kind of fishing net.

“Remember the Maine” (111): The sinking of the U.S.S. Maine, which was the catalyst for the Spanish-American War.

Rimbaud (124): A 19th century French writer who is most remembered for his contribution to the symbolist movement.

Robert Louis Stevenson (61): A Scottish author who is most famous for works such as Treasure Island and The Black Arrow.

Saturnalia (112): The week of December 17th-23rd during which a feast was held by the Romans to celebrate their dedication Saturn’s temple.

Scarlatti (129): Last name of Giuseppe Domenico Scarlatti, an Italian harpsichordist born during the 17th century who later moved to Spain and continued to practice music there.

Sculpin (135): A kind of small fish.

St. Francis (of Assisi) (144): A saint in the Catholic church who is known for his great love for God, animals, and the sick.

Treasure Island (64): A book written by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Vaudeville (109): A form of American variety entertainment that marked the beginning of popular entertainment as a lucrative business.

“White Sale” (103): A sale either of household goods, or when a store drastically reduces their prices for a short period of time.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[gummilutt]

Cyjon Loan Jar Modifications

This is an old creation of mine that I never got around to sharing, that I thought might make a nice release to celebrate 100 followers on tumblr. I never really expected so many of you to find and enjoy what I shared, but it's been wonderful once again getting that feeling of possibly helping someone enjoy their game more :)

I enjoy making my Sims lives more difficult financially, to have a real reason to work and run businesses and such, and being able to take loans is an important part of that. While Monique's computer is great in many ways, I never liked how interest is handled which is why I mainly use Cyjon's Loan Jar for loans. But even set to the lowest interest of 1%, the daily increase quickly gets out of hand on a big loan. I wanted more flexibility, and that's how this creation came to be.

Download from simfileshare

What's new?

The option to control which days of the week interest is added, with individual days or all at once setting options

An optional pop up dialog that informs you when interest has been added, and how much interest will be next time. When enabled (which is the default) the pop up will occur daily at 7am, regardless of whether there is a loan or not. When a loan jar is on lot with no active loan, use the setting option to turn the alert off :)

Easy overview of current settings regarding days, alert and interest rate

Support for pop up dialogs where you can enter rules you use in your hood, so you have easy access to them from inside the game (see picture included in download for example)

Jar and note subsets created by gayars, along with a new glass jar mesh and recolors by gayars

Paper note made recolorable by gayars, with recolors by gummi with game icons to make it possible to differentiate different type loans from each other (see picture above for examples). Set different interest rules for different types of loans, and use the icons to help you tell which is which :)

Alternative object models if you'd prefer something that blends in, with a pop up list to show you the options and what order they are in.

If you are unfamiliar with Cyjon's original, you can find more information about it's original functions on Cyjon's website. For more work by the very talented gayars, check out her website or her tumblr. Thank you my friend, for agreeing to make a new mesh to separate my version from the original, and for making the note recolorable. Being able to tell which jar is which loan is one of my favorite features :)

Requires Uni or a later EP according to Cyjon. Separate guid, so it will not overwrite the original, you can have both. Found in misc/misc, costs 1 simoleon. Has been tested in my game for years without issues. I hope you enjoy :)

[collapsedsquid]

My sense is that Silicon Valley has developed in just the opposite direction. My dearly missed friend, Aaron Swartz, was arguably the most genuinely open-ended intellectual to come out of modern tech. And he hated living in Silicon Valley in the early 2000s. He used to complain (sample here - he would expound on this at great length if you prompted him) about how intellectually dull Silicon Valley was, how disinclined people there were to talk about ideas, and how much happier he was after he moved to Boston, a place where people actually cared about books. Aaron was a member of the first class at Y Combinator. However, his broader intellectual interests were not only irrelevant to founder culture as it was back then but made him an actively bad fit, so that he ended up wandering off in a very different direction. In fairness, he was an awkward customer in all the right ways, and might very likely have lit out for other places no matter what. Silicon Valley has changed remarkably in the intervening two decades. Its culture now centers not simply on technology but the exercise of power. Powerful founders and funders not only aspire to make lots of money, but to reshape the world along better lines. They see themselves as a political elite as well as a financial one, and they are looking to educate themselves, often in ways that reinforce their own values and understanding of their own benevolent role. They want to be formed, and accidentally or consciously form others too. Tanner talks a lot about the classic Greek concept of paideia (education/formation). Its most prominent elucidation, the Cyropaedia, was written by Xenophon to support Athenian conservatives, who favored the rule of the few, in their struggles with the democratic faction. Xenophon’s notion of elite education was the model for the “mirror of princes,” a genre of mediaeval texts providing guidance for the education of rulers.Latin texts were similarly bastardized in the nineteenth century to mould the young gentlemen who would rule the British Empire, and through them influenced the anglophile East Coast elites who populated the State Department and the OSS. And that helps explain the creation of a canon. Founders who model themselves on Augustus Caesar, and engineers who aspire to reshape the world in their image, will not find what they need to know in textbooks on optimization. Nor, however, will they find it in the cultural precepts of the mid twentieth century WASP ruling class. Those were different times, and different values. Hence, they’re crafting their own mirrors from found materials - science fiction, biographies of great men, rationalist and libertarian tracts, and books about themselves. And there are lots of the latter, reflecting and refracting their own culture right back at them.

[justforbooks]

The DeepSeek panic reveals an AI world ready to blow❗💥

The R1 chatbot has sent the tech world spinning – but this tells us less about China than it does about western neuroses

The arrival of DeepSeek R1, an AI language model built by the Chinese AI lab DeepSeek, has been nothing less than seismic. The system only launched last week, but already the app has shot to the top of download charts, sparked a $1tn (£800bn) sell-off of tech stocks, and elicited apocalyptic commentary in Silicon Valley. The simplest take on R1 is correct: it’s an AI system equal in capability to state-of-the-art US models that was built on a shoestring budget, thus demonstrating Chinese technological prowess. But the big lesson is perhaps not what DeepSeek R1 reveals about China, but about western neuroses surrounding AI.

For AI obsessives, the arrival of R1 was not a total shock. DeepSeek was founded in 2023 as a subsidiary of the Chinese hedge fund High-Flyer, which focuses on data-heavy financial analysis – a field that demands similar skills to top-end AI research. Its subsidiary lab quickly started producing innovative papers, and CEO Liang Wenfeng told interviewers last November that the work was motivated not by profit but “passion and curiosity”.

This approach has paid off, and last December the company launched DeepSeek-V3, a predecessor of R1 with the same appealing qualities of high performance and low cost. Like ChatGPT, V3 and R1 are large language models (LLMs): chatbots that can be put to a huge variety of uses, from copywriting to coding. Leading AI researcher Andrej Karpathy spotted the company’s potential last year, commenting on the launch of V3: “DeepSeek (Chinese AI co) making it look easy today with an open weights release of a frontier-grade LLM trained on a joke of a budget.” (That quoted budget was $6m – hardly pocket change, but orders of magnitude less than the $100m-plus needed to train OpenAI’s GPT-4 in 2023.)

R1’s impact has been far greater for a few different reasons.

First, it’s what’s known as a “chain of thought” model, which means that when you give it a query, it talks itself through the answer: a simple trick that hugely improves response quality. This has not only made R1 directly comparable to OpenAI’s o1 model (another chain of thought system whose performance R1 rivals) but boosted its ability to answer maths and coding queries – problems that AI experts value highly. Also, R1 is much more accessible. Not only is it free to use via the app (as opposed to the $20 a month you have to pay OpenAI to talk to o1) but it’s totally free for developers to download and implement into their businesses. All of this has meant that R1’s performance has been easier to appreciate, just as ChatGPT’s chat interface made existing AI smarts accessible for the first time in 2022.

Second, the method of R1’s creation undermines Silicon Valley’s current approach to AI. The dominant paradigm in the US is to scale up existing models by simply adding more data and more computing power to achieve greater performance. It’s this approach that has led to huge increases in energy demands for the sector and tied tech companies to politicians. The bill for developing AI is so huge that techies now want to leverage state financing and infrastructure, while politicians want to buy their loyalty and be seen supporting growing companies. (See, for example, Trump’s $500bn “Stargate” announcement earlier this month.) R1 overturns the accepted wisdom that scaling is the way forward. The system is thought to be 95% cheaper than OpenAI’s o1 and uses one tenth of the computing power of another comparable LLM, Meta’s Llama 3.1 model. To achieve equivalent performance at a fraction of the budget is what’s truly shocking about R1, and it’s this that has made its launch so impactful. It suggests that US companies are throwing money away and can be beaten by more nimble competitors.

But after these baseline observations, it gets tricky to say exactly what R1 “means” for AI. Some are arguing that R1’s launch shows we’re overvaluing companies like Nvidia, which makes the chips integral to the scaling paradigm. But it’s also possible the opposite is true: that R1 shows AI services will fall in price and demand will, therefore, increase (an economic effect known as Jevons paradox, which Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella helpfully shared a link to on Monday). Similarly, you might argue that R1’s launch shows the failure of US policy to limit Chinese tech development via export controls on chips. But, as AI policy researcher Lennart Heim has argued, export controls take time to work and affect not just AI training but deployment across the economy. So, even if export controls don’t stop the launches of flagships systems like R1, they might still help the US retain its technological lead (if that’s the outcome you want).

All of this is to say that the exact effects of R1’s launch are impossible to predict. There are too many complicating factors and too many unknowns to say what the future holds. However, that hasn’t stopped the tech world and markets reacting in a frenzy, with CEOs panicking, stock prices cratering, and analysts scrambling to revise predictions for the sector. And what this really shows is that the world of AI is febrile, unpredictable and overly reactive. This a dangerous combination, and if R1 doesn’t cause a destructive meltdown of this system, it’s likely that some future launch will.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[thursdayisbetterthanfriday]

Cybernetics with Chinese Characteristics & why we suck at the real Grand Strategy Game

Part 2 - The Quickening

Back in 2023, I wrote this more blog-like post about the mid 20th century McCarthyite purges of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and the knock on effects that had - Namely the inception of the Chinese nuclear program, one-child policy and Chinese computing scene.

Since nothing is new under the sun, we have recently witnessed yet another example of America shooting itself in the foot, yet again, due to it's McCarthyite style purge of Chinese technology.

The release of the Chinese created AI system DeepSeek R1 last week has lead to the largest US stock market loss in history with NVIDIA stock decimated.

A record $465 Billion was wiped off its valuation in a single day. In 2024, the government of Turkey spent this much in a year on it's responsibilities?

Why did this happen?

As always, a lot can be put down to US foreign policy, and the in-intended implications of seemingly positive actions.

Do you want to start a trade war?

Back in the relatively uncontroversial days of the first Trump Presidency (Yes it does feel odd saying that) there were scandals with hardware provided by Chinese company Huawei. This led to the  National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2019 which explicitly banned Huawei and ZTE's hardware from use in US Government institutions. It also meant the US had to authorise US component manufacturer purchases by these companies.

Crucially this had a 27 month window. This allowed both companies to switch suppliers, and production to domestic suppliers. This actually led to Chinese chip advances. Following on from this came the 2022 move by the US Department of Commerce: "Commerce Implements New Export Controls on Advanced Computing and Semiconductor Manufacturing Items to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) ". This further limited the supply of semiconductor, supercomputer, and similar hardware to the PRC and associated countries.

Ok, well so far this is fairly dry stuff. You might think it would hamper Chinese development and, to some extent, it did.

It also proved to be the main catalyst for one financial quant.

Meet the Quant

Meet Liang Wenfeng (梁文锋). Educated to masters level, Liang was keen to apply machine learning methods to various field, but couldn't get a break. Finally, in the mid 2000's, he settled on a career investigating quantitative trading using machine learning techniques.

He became successful, founding several trading firms based around using machine learning methods, but his interest in base AI never seemed to cease. It was in 2021 that he started purchasing multiple NVIDIA GPUs to create a side project, leading to the creation of DeepSeek in 2023.

Now, due to import limitations, there were limitations on computation. This, however, did not stop DeepSeek's programming team.

Instead they used it as their strength.

Constrains Breed Innovation

For many years, the Western model of AI releases have focussed on making ever larger and larger models.

Why?

Let's break this down from an evolutionary point of view. Modern Western technology companies are largely monopolistic and monolithic. Many of these companies have previously hired staff at higher salaries not to fill roles, but to deny their competitors, and middle market firms, high-flying staff.

They also closely guard trade secrets. What's the training data? What algorithms were used in construction? Guess you'd better chat up some Silicon Valley bros at parties to find out.

For these kinds of firms, having control over large models, housed in data centres makes perfect sense. Controlling model deployment on their own computing systems, and not using local machines, means that they can not only control their systems more carefully, it also means that they can gatekeep access.

If your business model is to allow people to access your models on your servers, and your employees are focussed on making the biggest, best, models, there is no impetus to innovate more efficient, smaller models.

Companies such as OpenAI therefore have the following traits:

Research/Model focus on size over efficiency

Profit driven culture, with emphasis on closed source code

OpenAI's initial focus was as a non-for-profit developing Artificial General Intelligence. This became a for-profit driven company over time. - “I personally chose the price and thought we would make some money.” - Sam Altman

Staff working within paradigm they set in the early 2020's with established code libraries and direct contact with hardware companies creating chips

Significant capital investment - Upwards of several $ billions

DeepSeek, in comparison, is slightly different

For DeepSeek, necessity made innovation necessary. In order to create similar, or better models, than their counterparts, they needed to significantly optimise their code. This requires significantly more work to create, and write, libraries compared to OpenAI.

DeepSeek was started by financial quants, with backgrounds in mainly mathematics and AI. With a focus on mathematics and research, the main drive of many in the company has been exploration of the research space over concerns about profitability.

DeepSeek has also done what OpenAI stopped years ago: actually releasing the code and data for their models. Not only can these models therefore be run via their own gated servers, anyone can replicate their work and make their own system.

For DeepSeek, their traits were:

Research/Model focus on both efficiency and accuracy

Research driven culture, with open nature - “Basic science research rarely offers high returns on investment” - Liang Wenfeng

Strong mathematical background of staff, with ability to work around software, and hardware, constraints

Low capital investment of around $5.5 million

From an evolutionary point of view, DeepSeek's traits have outcompeted those of OpenAI.

More efficient models cost less to run. They also more portable to local machines.

The strong ability of DeepSeek's research focussed staff allowed them to innovate around hardware constraints

Opening up the code to everyone allows anyone (still with the right hardware) to make their own version.

To top it off, the cost to make, and run, DeepSeek R1 is a fraction of the cost of OpenAI's model

House of Cards

Now we can return to today. NVIDIA has lost significant market value. It's not just limited to NVIDIA, but to the entire US technology sector with the most AI adjacent companies losing from 10% to 30% of their valuation in a single day.

The culture, and business model, of OpenAI isn't just limited to OpenAI, but to the entire US technology ecosystem. The US model has been to create rentier-style financial instruments at sky-high valuations.

US tech stocks have been one of the only success stories for America over the past few decades, ever since the offshoring of many manufacturing industries. Like a lost long-unemployed Detroit auto-worker the US has been mainlining technology like Fentanyl, ignoring the anti-trust doctors advice, injecting pure deregulated substances into its veins.

The new AI boom? A new stronger hit, ready for Wall Street, and Private Equity to tie the tourniquet around its arm and pump it right into the arteries.

Like Prometheus, DeepSeek has delved deep and retrieved fire from the algorithmic gods, and shown it's creation to the world. The stock market is on fire, as the traders are coming off of their high, realising they still live in the ruin of barren, decrepit, warehouses and manufactories. The corporate heads, and company leaders reigning over the wreckage like feudal lords, collecting tithes from the serfs working their domain.

A Tale of Two Cities

The rise of DeepSeek isn't just a one-off story of derring-do in the AI world: It's a symbolic representation of the changing world order. DeepSeek is but one company among many who are outcompeting the US, and the world, in innovation.

Where once US free-markets led the world in manufacturing, technology and military capability, now the US is a country devoid of coherent state regulated free-market principles - its place as the singular world power decimated by destroying the very systems which made it great.

"Our merchants and master-manufacturers complain much of the bad effects of high wages in raising the price, and thereby lessening the sale of their goods both at home and abroad. They say nothing concerning the bad effects of high profits. They are silent with regard to the pernicious effects of their own gains. They complain only of those of other people." - Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations

By selling the jobs of working class communities to overseas businesses, destroying unions and creating rentier based business models without significant anti-trust measures, US business and political elites have sealed the present fate of the country.

The CCP led, but strongly anti-trust enforcing, China has been able to innovate, ironically, using the free-market principles of Adam Smith to rise up and create some of the world's best innovations. The factories, opened by Western business leaders to avoid union/worker labour costs in their own countries, have led Shenzhen, and similar cities, to become hubs of technological innovation - compounding their ability to determine the future of technologies across the world.

Will America be able to regain its position on top? It's too early to say, but the innovative, talented, people who made America in the 20th century can certainly do it again.

As Franklin D. Roosevelt once said: “The liberty of a democracy is not safe if the people tolerated the growth of private power to a point where it becomes stronger than the democratic state itself...

We know now that Government by organized money is just as dangerous as Government by organized mob.

Never before in all our history have these forces been so united against one candidate as they stand today. They are unanimous in their hate for me—and I welcome their hatred.”

Until then, here's a farewell to the American Century 在那之前, 再见美国世纪

[xyymath]

Math Myths Busted! 🚨 Debunking Common Misconceptions

1. "Trigonometry is pointless in real life."

Want to design a bridge, map the stars, or even create 3D models? Welcome to the world of trigonometry. Engineers use sine and cosine to calculate forces, angles, and stress on structures. Naval navigation? That’s spherical trigonometry. And let’s not forget medical imaging (MRI and CT scans)—trigonometric algorithms are essential for reconstructing images from cross-sectional slices of the body.

2. "Pi is just 3.14."

Pi is irrational, meaning it goes on forever without repeating. It’s used in everything from signal processing to quantum physics. In general relativity, gravitational waves are calculated using Pi to map the curvature of spacetime. Even fractals, the infinitely complex geometric shapes that mirror nature’s patterns, rely on Pi for accurate dimension calculations. Simplifying Pi to 3.14 is like calling a complex painting “just a bunch of colors.” It’s a universe in itself.

3. "Math is for nerds, not for normal people."

Mathematics is fundamental to the universe. The Fibonacci sequence is embedded in everything from flower petals to galaxies. Whether it’s understanding the Golden Ratio in art or applying optimization techniques to improve energy use in smart cities, math is the tool that drives technology, medicine, and economics. Cryptography keeps your bank account safe and ensures secure communication online—it’s all built on abstract algebra and number theory. So, is math for “nerds”? It’s for civilization.

4. "I’ll never be good at math."

Growth mindset matters. The very concept of calculus—which studies the rate of change—starts from understanding infinitesimally small changes. Once you grasp limits, derivatives, and integration, you unlock the power to model everything from population growth to financial markets. Complex equations that once seemed impenetrable are just tools for breaking down the world. Perseverance is the key, not an innate ability. You learn, you grow, you become a mathematical thinker.

5. "Math is boring."

If math’s boring, then understanding gravity and black holes is boring. Einstein’s general theory of relativity wasn’t just an academic concept—it was formulated using highly sophisticated tensor calculus. Fractals, which appear in clouds, mountains, and even coastlines, are beautiful examples of math in nature. When you solve differential equations, you’re predicting everything from weather patterns to market crashes. Math is not static, it’s the language of everything, from the universe’s creation to your daily commute.

6. "I don’t need math in my everyday life."

You calculate interest rates, optimize your workout routine, and even estimate cooking times using math without realizing it. Statistics helps you make informed decisions in the stock market, and probability theory is the reason you can accurately predict outcomes in games, risk-taking, and even weather forecasting. Linear algebra is involved in everything from computational biology to machine learning. And when was the last time you built a website without using algorithms? Exactly.

7. "Calculators do all the work, so why learn math?"

Calculators are tools. Algorithms—the underlying mathematical processes that make your calculator or smartphone function—are the result of years of mathematical study. Machine learning algorithms, the backbone of AI, rely heavily on linear algebra and calculus. Building a calculator that can compute anything from simple arithmetic to complex number operations requires advanced math, often involving abstract algebra and number theory. It’s not the tool; it’s the thinking behind it that counts.

Math is the DNA of the universe.

[bestworstcase]

thinking about those two deer in the lost fable again. out of all the assets created just for this one episode, why?

like… it’s not random. the only other animals in this story have been amber’s horse, zwei, and the branwens’ bird forms. all have some narrative relevance, a clear connection to a character that justifies the expense and effort of modeling them. and then in the lost fable—an episode that was always going to be a heavy lift technically and financially for the sheer amount of ground to cover and novel assets required—has these two deer. they’re only on screen for like two seconds.

it’s narratively motivated. the lost fable is a highly symbolic episode and that symbolism foreshadows the ever after / ascension / all the v9 lore quite strongly; it follows that the intended symbolism of this shot demanded the presence of these deer.

the god of light has deer antlers. in the blacksmith’s story, the first act of destruction is to eat; darkness eats, light does not. light holds himself at a distance, he designs, he does not live. these deer are grazing. salem appears from a plume of smoke at the base of the withered tree, and the deer startle at her approach and look up at her. the shot transitions to salem looking upon the grimm in the ruins of a town—

“she cursed the gods, she cursed the universe. she cursed everything—everything but herself,” says jinn. but her expression isn’t anger. (always check her eyebrows.) it’s more intense concentration, intense thought…

…which brings her back to the pool of grimm. jinn says that “fate” led her back here because that’s what ozpin believes. but this sequence begins with those deer, eating. destruction in its purest unadulterated form. salem visually emerges from the withered tree. she’s observing the grimm and she’s thinking. if the fountain of life had given her immortality, then surely the pools of grimm would finally take it away—not “finally let her die.”

rolls over.

the fountain of life gave her infinite life. salem hoped the pool of grimm would take it away. not kill. not destroy. infinite life. if you take from an infinite quantity, an infinite quantity still remains. this force of pure destruction could not destroy, so it created…

destruction first, to clear the wilderness away. darkness eats the tree’s brambles and through this act creation is born. jinn’s telling distorts through ozpin’s belief, but the truth is there. pure destruction and infinite life are not in conflict; rather, destruction feeds life.

the pool of grimm did take from her life—subtract from the infinite and the infinite remains—she’s torn apart and remade. creativity, to imagine what, and who, could replace the wilderness.

jinn tells this story, ozpin’s story, in a way that obfuscates salem’s real agency and her personhood, casting her alternately as tragic object of fate and inhuman monster. fate led her back to the land of darkness; a being of infinite life with a desire for pure destruction.

he believes salem wanted to die when she leapt into the pool of grimm.

did she?

the deer, the grimm, herself, the pool of grimm. wilderness and ruin. all that remained. i arrive at the edge of the world […] should i kneel?/what should i feel?/will i fall apart?/maybe that’s all i want […] and in my heart it’s there/standing tall enough to fix it all/it’s just a new beginning/it’s just a different ending […] i am everything and nothing/all at once/i’ll meet you at the horizon/where we first met/where i died, i’ll be born again…

(something. something. without you i am nothing, but because of you, i am everything. self-similar narrative.)

the edge of the world. . .

mutters. sow the death and reap the seed -> the moon will sadly watch the roses die -> a rose will grow to be a seed/from every life another leads -> some roses will never bloom. the burning rose, the shattered moon.

did. she know—did she have an idea that destroying herself would create a new world? destruction to clear the wilderness, creativity to imagine its replacement.

“they could claim the powers of their creators for themselves and in turn perfect their own design; all they needed to do was destroy their old masters.” -> “this was it, this had to be it, the brother’s grimm, the pools of black that continued to give rise to horrific nightmares” -> “we could be the gods of this world. […] create the paradise the old gods could not.”

like. it’s not just

it’s those fucking deer. eating. the grimm picking over the ruins. (grimm eat their prey.) salem, observing, thinking. “the gods had hoped that salem would learn from her eternal curse, and she did.” the god of light bade her learn the importance of life and death, and she did. and then she jumped into the pool of grimm and created remnant. a new world. a completely unfamiliar world–

…oh. ohhh

“magic was a gift from the gods that all could wield” -> “without the blessings of the gods, no one could perform magic like mankind was once capable of”

and

“aura is a manifestation of the soul, a life force that runs through every living creature on remnant.” we could be the gods of this world.

how does pyrrha unlock jaune’s aura? “for it is in passing we achieve immortality; through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory, infinite in distance and unbound by death. i release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.” a religious mantra echoing salem’s idea of transcendence. magic was a gift from the gods that all could wield; aura is a manifestation of the soul that everyone has, though only a select few are privileged by ozma’s institutions to learn. “with enough training and focus,” salem says, “a user’s aura can turn them into much more than just a man.” the illustration is ozpin’s silhouette—but ozma’s power isn’t derived from aura, it’s magic, and the infinite man is fond of saying that he is “only a man, not even a very good one,” and salem herself sees him as diminished, as lessened. he’s the image of “just a man.” a person’s aura can make them much more than ozma. much more than the brothers’ design.

our powers surpass all others.

salem is grimm. even if she has aura, she cannot use it to protect herself. the gods gave humans magic and then took it back; salem threw herself into the pool of grimm and it broke her apart and—symbolically if not literally—took away her aura and gave it to the people of remnant, reborn from the ashes of her rebellion. a semblance is the outward manifestation of one’s soul. she wanted humanity to claim the powers of their creators and perfect their own design, and… with enough training and focus, a user’s aura can turn them into something much more than just a man.

[diabolus1exmachina]

Lamborghini Urraco P300

Despite having been conceptualised as the model to dramatically increase sales and bring Lamborghini greater financial stability, the Urraco P250 proved a commercial flop. Production started in late 1972 following major equipment and floorspace investment. However, by late 1974, less than 500 had been delivered. The Urraco should have gone into production two years earlier than it eventually did. Lamborghini had originally conceived the model with a view to selling over 1000 examples every year.

The disappointing reality left Lamborghini deep in the red, but the Urraco was only partly responsible for a difficult few years.

Compounding the firm’s troubles had been delays for the Countach, a worldwide recession, problems at Lamborghini Trattori and unionised labour, all of which contrived to take their toll on the company founder. In 1972, Ferruccio Lamborghini had sold his tractor company along with 51% of his motor car business. He cashed out of the final 49% in 1974 when the world was in the midst of an energy crisis that slashed demand for gas guzzling machinery.

Throughout this tumultuous period, development work continued on the Urraco. It mainly focused on the Paolo Stanzani-designed V8 engine that had been created especially for the new model at considerable expense. In November 1974, an uprated Urraco P300 was launched at the Turin Motor Show. It immediately went into production alongside the Countach LP400, Espada Series 3 and Jarama S.

Most significantly, the Urraco P300 came with an enlarged three-litre engine. Equally importantly, the power unit now incorporated dual instead of single overhead camshafts.

To take capacity up to three-litres, Paolo Stanzani’s all-alloy 90° V8 was stroked from 53mm to 64.5mm. Bore went unchanged at 86mm for an overall displacement of 2997cc (an increase of 534cc). Compression was dropped from 10.5:1 to 10.0:1. Four new Weber 40 DCNF twin-choke downdraught carburettors were installed to replace the old 40 IDF 1s used previously.

The consequence of these improvements was a dramatic jump in output. Peak power was up 40bhp to 260bhp at an otherwise unchanged 7500rpm. The torque rating also rose considerably; 195lb-ft was now on tap at 3500rpm compared to 166lb-ft at 5750rpm for the P250.

As before, ignition was via two Marelli coils and a single Marelli distributor.

Lamborghini’s five-speed manual gearbox was beefed up to cope with the increased power and torque. Transmission was via a single dry-plate clutch and Lamborghini differential. New damper settings improved the ride, but otherwise little was changed to the existing platform The P300 was based on the same steel monocoque body shell as its predecessor. The engine was housed transversely like the Miura.

Suspension was independent all-round with MacPherson struts, coil springs and telescopic shocks. Anti-roll bars were fitted at either end The twin circuit brake system incorporated unchanged 278mm ventilated Girling discs. Campagnolo’s handsome five-bolt cast magnesium wheels were retained. They measured 7.5 x 14-inches and originally came shod with Michelin XWX tyres.

An 80-litre fuel tank was fitted in the engine bay.

Visually, the only change made to the P300 Urraco was a switch from a two-bank to six-bank radiator cooling vent on the front lid. The rest of Marcello Gandini’s soft wedge creation was unaltered.In a decade not exactly renowned for design longevity, the Urraco proved somewhat timeless. Compared to Bertone’s other mid-engined 2+2, the Ferrari Dino 308 GT4, the baby Lamborghini aged very well, even though it was ultimately outsold by the Maranello product by five to one.Build quality was considerably improved over earlier examples and nowhere was this more apparent than in the cockpit.Bertone had originally been responsible for furnishing the bodyshells, but by the time the P300 was on stream, this work had been taken in-house.

Lamborghini used better quality materials and ensured a higher standard of fit and finish.To this end, P300s were generally equipped with full leather interiors instead of the often garish two-tone leather and fabric combinations seen earlier.

The full width dash layout was still just as haphazard though. The rev counter and speedometer were located at either end of the instrument binnacle and angled in towards the driver. Supplementary gauges and various rocker switches were housed in between.

Lamborghini’s unusual deep dish steering wheel with its four arced horizontal spokes and leather rim was also retained. Like the P250 (which remained in production for a few months longer to use up an overstock of parts), the only update was the gradual shift to anodised black bumpers, wipers and window frames. A more conventional three-spoke steering wheel was also introduced towards the end of production.

[xaviers-student-union]

Xavier Student Paper; Issue #4

A relatively peaceful week...or is it?

The papers popularity

Greetings, Students and non students alike. I've recently learned that prints of our paper have been making rounds all over the superhero, and villian, communities of New York City. I have recieved some concerns over the spread of personal information belonging to Mutants and minors that are being written about and I'm here to soothe your worries. Making use of the magic users within the mansion, each article has been charmed to automatically scramble the identifying traits, and names of those we write about, should the paper end up in the hands of someone with less than pure intentions. We have hand tested this by giving a copy to my father, who was unable to read it at all. So, I would consider this method more or less fool proof.

It warms our hearts to see the numbers going up and up, to know that so many of you enjoy reading the collected efforts of all those in the union. While each paper may have only a single credited Author, every member of the union contributes in some way to its creation. And we are glad to provide this service to the community. A way of keeping us all updated and together.

What's in the vents?

For those returning from last week's issue you may have heard that my beloved Deanne had raised concerns over several valuables going missing, alongside an odd squeaking noise that could be heard at night. Well, after the issues print several students came to her with reports of stolen objects. Thus a small group was formed to go looking after hours to see if they could figure out what's going on.

To their horror however, while in the gymnasium they spotted what appeared to be an amalgamation of rats moving clumsily through the hall. Deanne has tentatively titled this creature; 'The rat king'. Although, I informed her that a rat king isn't a giant rat monster but in fact a truly disturbing natural phenomenon involving [typically] young rats or mice whose tails get stuck together while they sleep. Unable to pull away, they become more and more tangled. And eventually, they pass from starvation. Truly, a horrifying phenomenon.

[ Editors Note: Hey there Dear readers, I tried to trim down Jasper's rant about the Rat King and the legitimacy of using the name for a giant rat monster. Originally, the rant was around two pages wrong, so...you're welcome? - D.🐇]

Ultimately, I suppose as a moniker it will do until we figure out just...exactly it is. Students are being advised to lock up all valuables and notify someone when they hear odd noises in the vents. We believe them to be minions of the rat king.

Vote for professor Stuart!

As many of you are aware, the city of new York is currently hosting elections to nominate several new members onto our local government. Of these positions there are five seats avaliable for the Mutant protection council. A very stressful, but important role that in the past was held by less than savoury individuals, most of whom were not Mutants and whose idea of "Mutant Protection" was protecting Humans from us.

In the past few years, Mutants have been able to make more headway and get more and more positive role models in seats of authority. And this election cycle we hope to see yet another such role model end up on the council. Our beloved Ecology Professor Oswalf Stuart has officially thrown his hat in the ring, and hopes to be elected. We're encouraging all eligible voters to make use of that vote to get someone we can trust, someone who will work hard to take care of us, elected.

We wish you luck professor Stuart! If you need any help with your election campaign, then the union is more than ready to offer our support both with financial backing [ Courtesy of my father's credit card] and through advertising ( Aranza is already making posters ).

[RELEVENT PARTIES: @ozzie-the-stoat ]

Ground has been broken on the cafeteria mural

After a long, and tiresome debate, it has been decided that the mural in the cafeteria shall be inspired by the deep sea. Aranza has been sketching out several variations over the past few months in order to decide which would be best to apply to the wall. And after sitting down with professor X, a final variant has been selected.

As many of you will have seen, the professors and a small team of art driven students have been wiping down and cleaning the selected wall to prepare it for the first coat of paint. We ask that you all remain patient and in the words of Molly, " Totally trust the process, like. It's going to be so sigma". Which I think means, to wait for the final unveiling before passing judgement.

On the new club; The dark ones

As many have seen, a newly approved club has been floating around campus. Occupying the old meeting room down in the hanger, and yes, as we have since confirmed this club was in fact vetted and approved by Gambit. The Dark ones is a club that..revolves around...something? You see, they took out an ad in the paper but did not elaborate on what exactly their club is about. All they've really put on here is that they are offering free tea and biscuits to members.

Which, alright. I see the appeal. But I would be interested to know exactly what a club which such an interesting name actually entails. What are their rules, their activities, their membership count. Who is the president of the club. We have no clue but they took out an ad so we have to include them.

Student election

As you may have seen, concern has been raised over the fact that the student council was not in fact elected, but entirley made up by Molly a few years ago. It had been fine up until now, with our popularity increasing and now becoming a sanctioned student government. Thus, we've been asked to hold votes.

All of our members have been successfully voted but now the professors would like us to vote on the President.

So here is your chance to elect a new president.

the results are in

The results of last week's poll revealed that Vampires DO dream of electric sheep. Which, isn't something I really concerned myself with, but it is nice to know that Molly does in fact now have an answer to her inane question.

And that about wraps up this week's Student paper. We hope this issue has been informative. And as always, if you see something feel free to report it...espeically about the rat king. We are particularly concerned about the rat king.

Author: Jasper

Editor: Deanne