#i can do basic arithmetic guys i swear

[chemblrish]

So I've just seen this post with "pictures" of molecules and I said in the tags if people really knew how tiny atoms and molecules are, they'd find it as staggering as the equally absurd numbers that characterize the distances in the outer space. And ya know what? Let's go there, let's do that!

This will be loosely based on a numerical that they made us do in my very first fundamentals of chemistry seminar to help us baby first years get a feel for how gigantic the Avogadro's number is.

Take a 250 ml glass and fill it up with water to the brim. Water density depends on the temperature, but it's conveniently very close to 1 g/cm^3, so that gives us 250 g of water in our glass which in turn gives us (250 g) / (18 g/mol) = 14 moles of water in the glass. If you're wondering what the hell a mole is, then let's just say it's something that helps us go from the mass of something to the number of molecules that something contains.

Speaking of which, we get 14 mol × [6 × 10^(23) molecules/mol] = 8 × 10^(24) molecules of water in our glass - a number so absurdly big it's impossible to truly comprehend it. So let's try to help our brains see it.

usmint says that the US cent is 1.52 mm thick. Let's imagine we have 8 × 10^(24) cents - the number of water molecules in a glass - and we build a tower with them by placing one coin on top of the other (assuming this tower can actually hold up!). Our tower will end up being 1.52 mm × 8 × 10^(24) = 10^(25) mm = 10^(19) km tall. Ten to the power of nineteen! That's 10000000000000000000 kilometers! If this snake of a number isn't bonkers enough by itself, then let me tell you that our tower is not only longer than the diameter of the Solar System, it is longer than the diameter of the Milky Way.

But wait, there's more!

Given that the speed of light is 3 × 10^5 km/s, light would need [10^(19) km] / [3 × 10^5 km/s] = 3 × 10^(13) seconds to travel from the base of the tower to its top. Assuming there are approximately 31 million seconds in a year, that's [3 × 10^(13)] / [31 × 10^(6)] = 10^6 years. One million years!!

This is how absurdly tiny molecules are.

Yeah, I'm using some pretty rough approximations in this post, but with how unimaginably gigantic the end result is, I think it's rather safe to do that. Also, obviously, a molecule isn't the same as an atom. Molecules can be "big" - proteins, anyone? - but the water molecule is relatively small in comparison + it's such a common substance that we interact with everyday, so I wanted to use it.

[obscurevideogames]

Tumblr’s Core Prodct Stratgy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on trying to keep our sinking ship afloat for as long as possible. This means desperately trying to copy every new fly-by-night social media app that some multi-billionaire sh*t out during their daily Peloton routine. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. If you find the things we say here worrisome, please understand that is our exact intention. You've outgrown our target demographic. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The Diagnosis

It's lookin' pretty bad y'all!

After somehow losing hundreds of thousands of users during the great pr0n purge of 2018, we started to wonder if anything could be done to get back to where we were. We even brought in a management consultant who charged us a ridiculous amount of money. It would make you sick if you knew how much, but we got a few nice meals out of it at least. Anyhow, we handed this guy the app, and HE HAD NO IDEA HOW TO USE IT! It was f*cking hilarious! But suddenly it all clicked -- our users are a bunch of stupid idiots who can't even do basic arithmetic. I mean, they spend all day looking at their phones, so what do you expect?

Tumblr’s best feature is its unique content and vibrant communities. But who cares, right? We're just as happy getting traffic from people sh*t-posting memes, vague-booking, giving out-of-context hot takes to news events, and spewing whatever random thought is in their head at the moment. Plus that stuff doesn't p*ss off Apple.

To keep this thing going we need new people. And by "people" we mean teenagers, like we used to have back in the good ol' days. Unfortunately we're all in our 40s now, so we have no idea what they want. But teenagers are so cool! Imagine if they talked to us like we're one of them? We're getting hard just thinking about it.

Our Guidng Principls

To make Tumblr cool again, we must address these huge glaring issues.

People can look at a blog without logging in. How is that fair to all the poor schlubs who had to fill out forms to get an account? Also we haven't figured out a way to force ads onto the personalized pages yet. But we swear that's not the main reason.

People can see content they are looking for or linked to. People can keep up with blogs they follow. But the problem with this is, people don't know what they want. We know what they want! We're smart. We wrote this damn site, remember?

Promote posts that incite pointless conversations. Posts that are guaranteed to bait every troll into responding. Isn't that why all your Magat relatives love Facebook so much? We can do that!

P*ss off your content creators in every way possible (see #2).

Create algorithms that throw an unending barrage of irrelevant content in your face. Have you seen Instagram lately? We could do that so easy!!!

The app is slow. The website is slow. Obviously this is because of GIFs. Facebook and Instagram don't allow them, so why should we?

Conclusion

Our mission changes on a day-to-day basis. Right now we're super jealous of all the attention that new Threads thing is getting. We're still not sure what it is, but we're gonna download it after work.

[yowaimo0]

Math Quarter 2 Project

Hey there! I’m Cess. It’s so nice to meet you!

Don’t you think the first quarters have been swift? I didn’t notice we are already at the 3rd Quarter. Not much has happened, but I vividly remember a lot of great memories.

I remember when we had to stay up late to answer sample problems. My friends and I didn’t review at all before that because we were busy playing games. It was really our fault that we got only a few hours of , sleep, but we managed to pull through.

There was also a time when all the things I reviewed were like thrown out of the window or something when I saw Sir Ric hugging a monobloc chair during a test. UMM HAHAHA. Thankfully, my usual all-nighter did not betray me.

Math Journey: SWIFT and FUN

My favorite topic is probably the tangent line of a function. There is something so satisfying in differentiation. I was oddly confident and interested in the topic. I enjoyed learning it very much.

On the other hand, I found learning about the common behaviors of non-differentiable functions challenging. One thing about myself that I know for sure is that I hate concepts, so I was bothered on how I would approach the topic. In the end, I didn’t bother reviewing it for a test and I regretted it not long after. But honestly, I wouldn’t say it was a challenge. Rather, it was a matter of preference.

--- no sample problem ---

All topics were easy to learn. In the first place, math has always been easy to learn, but it was not all a "ME" thing. Without a good teacher, a lot of us probably would have struggled with understanding the topics. In other words, sir is most of the reason why our journey has been such a breeze, so I think sir takes the crown for this one.

I might have already said it, but I was most interested in the tangent line of a function. Not gonna lie, I was very interested in the topic to the point that I differentiate functions for fun or to pass time. Maybe how I found it understandable made it interesting? I’m not sure, but I have always pursued things I am confident at. Well, it is a good thing, because now I can say it is the topic I have mastered the most.

By the way, the topic I have mastered the least is the limits of exponential and logarithmic functions. I hardly remember the lessons from the first quarter, and this topic is an extension of the first quarter. I little review might help me, but mastery-wise, I am not confident at all. As I answered the problem below, I was skeptical I did it correctly.

Lastly, to the question on how I would apply the topics in real life, honestly, I don’t have a clue. As a person living her almost carefree life in this world, the math that has been useful to my everyday work has only been basic arithmetic. But I am also a student. That's precisely why I aim to use this knowledge to achieve my goals and dreams. Math is a learned skill, after all. Moreover, math is a source of fun for me, so even if I don’t have a clue right now, I will know as long as I pursue math.

---- Messages ----

To my teachers, hi sir. First of all, your patience towards us is literally chef's kiss 💋. I’d like to say sorry for always submitting late. I am aware of how unacceptable irresponsibility is for a scholar, like maghahabol pa po kayo ng grade and all haha....... Yet you still take up your markers and teach us 😊. It is your dedication that have pushed me to do better. I cannot promise you po that this won't happen again, but I swear to myself, I will do better. Thank you po for being our teacher <33

To my classmates, or specifically to my friends, thank you guys. Kung hindi ko kayo mahuhuli magreview, hindi na rin ako siguro magrereview. HAHAHA. Wala ng long messages, alam niyo na toh.  

And to myself, erm, where do I start. Anyare na sa New Year’s resolution mo. Natapakan mo ba? You have the tendency to be ambitious with your outputs. But when you do not finish your work on time, you tend to neglect your work because “it wouldn’t matter anymore if you submitted later.” Girl, ayusin mo pa. You're better than this. Don’t worry, it will all work out.

-✨✨

[postapocalypsecomedownblues]

Interview with a Shell Construct

Dub has been coming to see me for a few years now to help with basic witch stuff. I taught him how to banish negative energies and he taught me how to use an MP-5 sub-machine gun. 

He’s an interesting guy. Sometimes a bit angry - and quite understandably so, given all he’s been through - but his heart’s in the right place. Anyway, in exchange for promising him some anonymity, I’m allowed to tell a few pieces of his story, through a curated reconstruction of his journal. 

So, here we go - 

9/7/18 – Friday

I prefer honesty to truth. Honesty implies a humanistic approach; a quest. Honesty leaves room for error, which is the flipside to growth. Truth implies facts. Facts are broken over the knee of man’s quest for knowledge on a daily basis. Truth implies foreknowledge. Foreknowledge is simply assumption in fancy drag.

This is probably going to serve as the headpiece for what is about to become DVB-13’s blog. I am the Dub and the Dub ‘tis I, and we are all (redacted) ; Hail Elohim, Hail Emmanuel.

Do not expect truth here. I shall strive for honesty in all works, but where I fall short you may regard as either (poorly attempted) satire or the Fourth Estate anathemic bugaboo known as “speculative journalism”.

At the beginning of last month, I participated in a PTSD/depression treatment program that lasted for NEXT TWO LINES ARE REDACTED

the US Marine Corps and a survivor of some childhood sexual trauma. So, I’m fucking riddled with PTSD and have depression both metaphorically and metaphysically jammed right the fuck up my asshole.

I should probably also mention that I swear exactly as much as you would expect a veteran of REDACTED in the 80’s – which is, like, a fucking lot. I’ll offer exactly one apology for all the coarse language that will permeate this blog:

I am genuinely fucking sorry for my foul mouth.

Now that’s out of the way, I’ll speak briefly about the whole alter-identity thing. For as long as I’ve been

  REDACTED a foot planted in two different continents. In one of those, we’re all supposed to agree on things like rational materialism, the boundaries of physics, the ultimate beneficence of our elected representatives and church leaders (to include a legitimate separation of Church and State, as long as we’re on the subject), as well as taking a side on these constructs.

In the other, I knew of things like boundlessness contained within spheres of consciousness, our possible existence as multi-faceted beings co-existing in overlapping layers of dream states, and shape-shifting superior entities that move mostly unseen among us.

In REDACTED, I’m bound by customs and etiquette to not scream at the sky for our failure to recognize the boundaries of our self-constructed prisons, but here – protected in the shadows by an effluvium of digital bullshit – I can rattle the bars, if only a little.

DVB-13 is my paean to REDACTED. Gematria, steganography, chaos magic, and bad arithmetic all contributed to the build – 4 + 5 + 2 is the 11 to the 13, which gives us 6, the Lovers’ tarot; Adam Kadmon.

NEXT TWO PAGES REDACTED

[radreactions]

Dream Daddy/Mummy

Written by @saintlyguy who was inspired by a dating sim called “Dream Daddy.”

*Warning - Imminent cuteness ahead!*

Ada: The bumbling mom who’s first priority is to protect her child. Although Ada is fully capable of looking after her child and teach them common sense, she’s not the best cook or cleaner. When she’s not extinguishing the oven fire she started, she’d ask help from her neighbor Codsworth, even for babysitting while she works as an arithmetic (probably for NASA to uncover some hidden figures). Although her house isn’t the most organized place, Ada provides a safe environment for her child despite her doubts and flaws.

Cait: At first, she’d have cold feet; to think she of all people could raise a child on her own. She would need to gradually warm up to the idea, at first being frustrated with providing food and bed for two. Despite her callous personality, Cait would refrain from yelling at her child and forbid herself from laying a hand on them. Coming from abusive parents, Cait would want to be the caring mother she never had. She would need PLENTY of help from Nate/Nora, considering they’re much more experienced in parenting as well as etiquette. That means less drinking (few shots a week don’t hurt), stop getting into (as much) fights and to cut back on swearing. Overtime with assistance of her friends and a swear jar, you could see Cait walking through Sanctuary Hills with her kid in hand. Eventually she would begin to teach them how to fight. She would kinda be like Black Canary in the Injustice series.

Curie: The apex mother; plenty of love, hugs, kisses, cuddles and snuggles. Her child would be pampered emotionally and prepared educationally. Curie would homeschool her child, so well that they will most likely study abroad on scholarships. Mama Curie will always ensure that her child eats healthy, properly maintains hygiene and above all feel as if they can always turn to her for anything. She would do the “Get Out” challenge across a playground in order to kiss her child’s boo-boo. Whenever her child accomplished a feat, no matter how small (especially during potty-training) they would be met with a small applause and a kiss on the forehead. Mama shines especially when taking care of her sick child. “Rest mon cher, Mama will nurse you back to health.” No doubt her child will grow up into a reflection of her selflessness.

Danse: Military dad. Disciplining his child so that they could be much better and stronger than he is. Also the dad to walk around in buttoned shirts with rolled up sleeves. He’d be especially involved in his child’s health and well-being. Willing to spend any expense for his child’s pursuits, so long as he finds them practical and morally sound. An example would be when he closed the door on a recruiter from CIT. “Damn Institute.” Despite his mildly overprotectiveness, Danse’s child will always have a shoulder to cry on; arms to hold them; a rock to lean on. As a baby his child would always be willing to sleep on his broad chest or be carried in a baby harness. Many admirers of him would envy the child for being the apple of his eye.

Deacon: The cool yet irresponsible dad. Always looking for creative ways to have fun with his child; taking them out to conventions, festivals, arcades and amusement parks. He would even go so far as to design his child’s room to their liking; if they love Batman, his child would be sleeping in their own Batcave. How does he afford all this? “Don’t you worry your little head, nothing’s too much when it comes to my little one.” However the father and child would always be covered in bandages, since safety isn’t always taken into account; like that time he dressed up as Bane so that his child could defeat him as Batman/woman, which ended with Deacon having a broken nose and a missing tooth.

Dogmeat: No one, NO ONE will ever harm his puppy. You looking to harm Pupmeat? You will hear the most intimidating snarls and barks in your life. Here’s a translation: “Motherfucker you lay a hand on my pup, I will bite your genitals and ass off. Afterwards my pup and I will tear up your skin. Afterwards, I’m gonna shit in your mouth and leave your corpse to the maggots.”

Gage: Similar to Cait, Gage would have no idea how to handle fatherhood. At first his only concern would be providing basic needs. After seeing how fussy his child can be without any attention, he began to take into account their wants. This would be annoying to Gage as he began to carry his child wherever he went. Soon he became a much more responsible father; telling bedtime stories and teaching his child what he knew. He would however know to give them space here and there so that “They don’t grow up to be a pussy.” As much as he loves his child, if they were to go do something stupid, he wouldn’t be afraid to throw his slipper at them.

Hancock: The ghoul would want to pass on his ideals of freedom onto his child in order to help improve the world, but first he would need to change the man in the mirror first. No more chems. For real. He’d ensure that the vices of Goodneighbor would not corrupt his child; they would be the diamond in the rough. His child would have much freedom in how they express themself; clothing, identity and interests. Anyone would dare bully his child would feel a knife poke into their back as they’re dragged back into an alleyway for a discussion. “‘Boys can’t wear dresses/ Girls can’t wear suits?’ You and I need to have a talk.”

Longfellow: The outdoor dad; type to shop at North Face or Bass Co. Wears fishing vests and hiking boots wherever, whenever. Not shy about drinking in front of his child, although he would hold off on sharing a drink until they’re 21. Takes his kid camping/hunting/fishing once a year. Takes a cross-country trip with an RV to see wonders of nature. He would want to raise his child out of a metropolitan area, probably somewhere like the frontier.

MacCready: Duncan would have someone to share his interests, be it Grognak comics or mutfruit. The lucky kid would always have someone to watch the latest Marvel movie with, sometimes even going in cosplay; their favorite by far is Guardians of the Galaxy Vo. 2 (for obvious reasons for those who have seen it). MacCready is always willing to roleplay and even larp with Duncan, having plenty of cardboard to cut into whatever they need. Whenever he isn’t playing with Duncan, MacCready is out working his tail at two jobs; despite medical bills for Duncan, the father and son are able to live happily.

Nick Valentine (story time; Lego Batman reference!): After chasing a lead regarding the Mysterious Stranger, Nick returns to the agency for a new case in Far Harbor. Heading to the terminal, Nick researches a disappearance and how he’ll get there. “Fastest route to Far Harbor.” The terminal isn’t responding. “FASTEST ROUTE! Why isn’t this thing working?”

Dun dun duh! “Hello Mister Valentine. I’ve just taken away your terminal privilege.” GASP

“Lucky for me, I got a master password.”

“You mean “ellie_sucks.” Crap. “Nick, it’s time you start taking responsibility of your life and it starts by raising your daughter.”

“I’m sorry, I’m completely lost.”

“The young orphan you let in with you, she’s been living here for a while and I’m quite fond of her.”

“Well I don’t have time to watch a kid. Send her back to wherever she came. Or the orphanage if they still have any.”

“Mr. Valentine this will be great for you. Start getting you back with us socializing people. Let her into your life as you let me in.”

“As someone who doesn’t know how it feels to have a surrogate father, you shouldn’t be telling me how I should run my life, now lift the terminal lock.” Slyly, Ellie opens the door to allow the young girl in. “Ellie, what are you doing?!”

“Letting Piper into your life.”

“Don’t forget Nat!” a squeaky voice announced as the door closes behind Valentine’s new daughter. Wait. Daughters. Ellie may have let that detail slide.

Piper: Having an appropriate job to support her plus one family, she would live in a condo with her child and auntie Nat. Given her punctuality for news, Piper told the best bedtime stories; not ever needing to read from a storybook. Her child’s imagination would soar while their grammar and writing surpasses their classmates’. Nat would be competitive regarding who’s a better caretaker; Piper won this when she brought in Grandpa Valentine dressed up as Santa for Christmas. Eventually Nat will settle for second best; what child could resist Piper showering them with kisses and cooing “Who’s my little pearl? You are!”

Preston: A parent whose care almost rivals that of Curie, maybe even Nora/Nate. Preston would raise his child close to school, the park and their favorite restaurant. He’s the dad who would wear a funny apron while baking brookies for his child and their friends. He may not understand some of the songs his child enjoys, but he’ll put up with them so long as the songs aren’t derogatory; he was on the fence when his child would listen to The Fuxedos. Preston’s concern grew as his child grew. As much as his child understands, hearing “Another college needs your application” daily gets old.

Strong: The dad who wears the shirts that say stuff like “guns don’t kill, dads do.” Everybody wonders how the hell did anyone decide to have a kid with that guy. But they quickly change their minds when they see how Strong scared off some hoodlums with a single stare. He would always be the chaperone for his child’s school trips. Although he may not be that smart and has to use a flip phone, Strong makes up for it by providing safety for his child and their friends. Although no one dares to invite him to their barbeque, he’ll probably eat everything (but ensures to keep two whole steaks for his child.)

X6-88: Being cold on the outside and seemingly apathetic makes it hard to see X6 as a parent. None of his neighbors know his past, or where he gets his income, but this dad is able to provide organic meals for his child as well as get them pretty pricey outfits. Ever since they were a baby, X6’s child would wear gold Rayban aviators, similar to their father. X6 would ensure that his child’s posture and strut just exhausts power and regality. But what most people don’t realize, is that he doesn’t shy away from staycations in pajamas and having lightsaber fights with his kid once and awhile.

Nora/Nate: Fresh cookies baked in the afternoon, homemade costumes/cosplay, a robot butler and faithful dog. This household just gives off family vibes. Nora/Nate would ensure that Shaun would grow up into a person more grand than they are. They would be on top of everything Shaun is interested in. Their family would be the envy of Sanctuary Hills. If only.

Conrad Kellogg: Although this he scares most people, his wife and daughter, Sarah and Mary would feel safe in their bungalow near San Francisco. Although prefers to keep to himself and his family, Kellogg would always take his family out so that they may enjoy themselves and each other. But what’s secret to everyone, even to his family is a secret room where does some pretty shady business.

[paul-patts-blog]

all for my boyfriends (why am i not dating any of your women?)

no women for u. 

BERLIOZ 

☾ - sleep headcanon-- berlioz rarely  sleeps in the nude. even after sex, he gets cold and has to grab a shirt and boxers. many times he has managed to sweet talk simba into doing it so he can stay curled in the covers. 

★ - sad headcanon- ugh his entire demeanor?? there r just so many 

☆ - happy headcanon- ber has learned a lot of life skills the past two years, like laundry, grocery shopping, vacuuming-- even cooking! tbh he has grown to really like coming over to help nounou prepare dinner since he does that (or did that) with simba. 

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- ber’s anger is cold and sharp. he is not a physical guy but knows how to say like the perfect brutal thing. dem bonfamilles yo. 

✿ - Sex headcanon- ber is nasty. UHHHH. ber never went down on a girl and probably never will lolololol 

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- as a young broody teen, ber literally made a KEEP OUT sign that he put on his doorknob at all times. it was mostly for marie tbh who terrorized him and his stuff

♡ - romantic headcanon- ber literally can’t look at a rose without thinking of simba and also simba’s aunt who has a rose farm. for the rest of his life, that’s what he’ll think about. 

♥ - family headcanon- hector was the person who bought berlioz his first david bowie album and on the day bowie died-- ber actually texted his dad and they had a CALL about it. it’s one of the only things they have in common. 

☮ - friendship headcanon- ber is literally the best friend u can have ok if u get him on ur side he’s one of those who will ride or die, offer to bury the body, etc. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- he really likes MAPS. whenever he goes to a new city he picks up the city map and keeps it. his desk is like fuuuull of maps. i’m sure lou has gotten him like old, antique maps before that he has in frames. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- likes really long plane rides, longer the better, loves airplane food, loves the whole nine yards /  dislikes any gossip or reality tv show it like literally makes him SO mad like he can’t watch dance moms or keeping up with the kardashians he gets /upset/ bc ppl are so /mean/ and /stupid/ and he hates it 

▼ - childhood headcanon- would wake up early to watch pokemon his one exception to the sleep until noon rule. 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- ber will be that old man busting out beautiful piano pieces in random places bc he will have lost all his fucks by then

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- wow can my above one with nounou count-- uhhh he is in charge of cutting veggies. 

☼ - appearance headcanon- ber is the type of boy to never take off his concert wristbands. sometimes he picks at them and they get ripped up and nasty and eventually they fall off. 

ൠ - random headcanon- i am bad at these uuuuuh ber once sang the pina colada song to simba when he was drunk outta his brain and simba probably captured a good 80 percent on video. 

◉ - Any other question of your choosing- idk im uncreative

HADES

☾ - sleep headcanon- hades has discovered that listening ot books on tape helps him get to sleep! 

★ - sad headcanon- uh that his mum didn’t leave a goodbye note 

☆ - happy headcanon- uhhh once opal saved up her money and took hades and persephone out to the movies and then they had ice cream!!! and that was the closet thing to a holiday that hades had as a child oh this god sad again

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- he used his ghost powers on his grandfather to like smash his grandfather’s head into the kitchen counter after he said something Truly Rude and knocked him out and seph was scared and crying and he had to call the ambulance and tbh he was very scared and felt guilty these r all sadder than my sad headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon- goes down on belle at every opportunity bc he has a control kink (also does fantasize about her going down on him boy just likes oral sex)

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- hades room is immaculate. he makes his bed every single day and washes his sheets once a week. or he did now he lives in hell and its SO DUSTY and he does all the dusting, 

♡ - romantic headcanon- uh lmao fuck uh. hades version of romance is having belle practice the debate questions with him. 

♥ - family headcanon- opal taught both her kids to read and do arithmetic before their peers and that’s why the acherons r smart alecks 

☮ - friendship headcanon- hades now plays words with friends with belle AND lou. wow. so popular. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- hades organizes the cereals in the pantry by alphabetical order. and the spices. and soups. basically anything that can be organized he likes having systems ok. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- blackjack and really gambling in general tbh he’s real good at it / dislikes- fried food 

▼ - childhood headcanon- walked to school no matter the weather bc people on the bus would torment seph and though he woulda FOUGHT THEM OFF seph just wanted to avoid it so, he walked her to school

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- hades is honestly going to have trouble giving up immortality. he’s vain and he doesn’t want to grow old tbh. and bc he’s the ambassador he almost doesnt /have/ to ... 

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- hades loves chocolate milk its a sinful indulgence that he probably hid from belle for a long time and tbh he still denies himself chocolate milk a lot like challenges himself to go without chocolate milk for 90 days stupid shit like that everything’s a competition BUT HE LOVES CHOCOLATE MILK SO MUCH 

☼ - appearance headcanon- always immaculate. always. 

ൠ - random headcanon- hades sometimes refolds belle’s clothes that she folds bc its not good enough, sorry hon, 

◉ - Any other question of your choosing-don’t come at me

PAUL 

☾ - sleep headcanon- paul’s sleep schedule has long been outta wack, so he usually can only sleep three or four hours before his body gets himself up. normally he goes and gets a glass of water or if it’s a more restless night, he’ll have to read himself back to sleep. 

★ - sad headcanon- paul was the one who told his mother that lucas died 

☆ - happy headcanon- when the babies were born paul like basically spent the entire day taking pictures of themmm with perdy and he was so so happy and he still has every single picture no matter how terrible the shots 

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- paul has a tiny bit of a violent streak in him that he can mostly control, but he does get into fights with other blokes and has thrown stuff when he gets mad. 

✿ - Sex headcanon- the first time paul had sex his first words were “holy shit” quickly followed by “sorry” quickly followed by him coming. it was not the most impressive first time.

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- paul and lucas shared a room and they were around the same size and had lots of the same tastes so they shared everything else too, so often that when lucas died, paul couldn’t remember if certain shirts were his, which albums were his, etc. 

♡ - romantic headcanon- paul is the type to write random notes and leave them around the house. he did this for perdy when she was pregnant and some of them had clues that led to OTHERs because he’s extra we know he’s extra 

♥ - family headcanon- the patts family is rarely all in one place, but they always congregate for one thing: football in the spot. unless paul’s mom is having a bad time, even she’ll come down. 

☮ - friendship headcanon- though roger is certainly his best friend, harry is his oldest friend-- knowing him since they were both wee lads in primary school around 6 or 7 years old. they tried out for the football team together. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- paul actually knows how to brew his own beer! he learned his from johnny, who is a beer connoisseur and like makes his own types and swears he’s gonna get rich of them (probably never will) but Paul used to help Johnny with the whole process and they’d organize like ‘tasting’ parties which-- was just a bunch of men getting very drunk and playing card games tbh.  

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- shopping for new clothes, he always feels so fancy and rich / grocery shopping nothing could be more boring and he usually impulse buys like more beer and sweets than he needs lol 

▼ - childhood headcanon- paul broke his arm when he was 8 after falling out of a tree and into the shrubbery. he was trying to hide from simon who had just got a new paintball gun and wanted to use paul as his target practice !!! 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- paul is gonna be the old guy who thinks he’s “cool” and “hip” and will like do the line dances and idk probably pick up a mid-life crisis hobby like SKIING thats dangerous but makes him feel “alive.”

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- his mother makes the most amazing cinnamon hot cocoa. whenever he’s sad, it’s what he craves, to him, sadness tastes and smells like cinnamon. 

☼ - appearance headcanon- paul loves getting ready for events. he and perdy would spend an equal amount deciding on outfits and doing their hair and shit he just-- feels so goddamn fancy. 

ൠ - random headcanon- paul lets edith read all his stories. she is the only one. she still gets emailed drafts. this is because edith hates reading, so if edith likes something, he knows that it’s good.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

[peterhongwrites]

(Ch. 9) Hugh Jadhav and the Library Intermission

Hugh’s backpack hit the library desk.

“Okay, so, uh,” Hugh said.

Hugh swept off the dusty table. Dust flurried left and right.

Alder stood in front of Hugh. Alder stood still.

“Yes?” Alder replied.

The sixteen walls of the library breathed with stiff, page-sweetened air.

Hugh swatted around the flakes of dust. “Here’s what I--” Dust caught in Hugh’s throat. “Ack-- sorry-- ack! Sorry, redo.” Hugh coughed, coughed, and took a breath. “Here’s what I got for you this week. That’s what I wanted to say. Yeesh.”

Alder’s eyes were set on Hugh.

“Yes?”

Hugh continued. “Now I don’t-- I don’t wanna get your hopes up.” Hugh’s bag stood tall on the table; taller than Hugh. “So, you know, don’t hold your breath. I just figure, it’s worth a shot. Might as well try. Can’t hurt. Or whatever. You know?”

“Yes, Hugh Jadhav,” Alder replied, “I know.”

“Yeah, so,” Hugh replied. “Lemme just fish that out for you…”

Hugh sized up his bag. His hands slid along the metal teeth of the zipper.

“Okay. Uh. Hold a sec.”

“Take your time, Hugh Jadhav.”

Hugh’s fingers grasped onto the zipper tab, and pulled its stream down open.

Hugh plunged his hand into the depths of the backpack.

His hand sank deep, deep in the bag.

“Uh. Maybe more than a sec.” Hugh muttered to himself.

Hugh felt his hand first press against the crust of the “A” section. Inside, he felt arithmetic, apples, and the aristocracy.

“Junk,” Hugh mumbled. “Look at me, holding on all this junk.”

“Steady, Hugh.”

Then, his hand drilled down through the mantle of the “B” section. He bored through boron, the history of the Bolsheviks, Benjamin Franklin.

“Tch. Might take a while.”

“Take your time, Hugh Jadhav,” Alder repeated.

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

His hand dug deeper through the earth of the “C” section, now: Calculus, Chemistry, candlemaking.

“C’mon, c’mon.”

“Take your time.”

Hugh’s hand sped down, deep past the “D” section.

“Tch,” Hugh said, dodging a dart. “Stupid.”

“How was your day, Hugh?” Alder asked.

Danger leaped out at Hugh. Hugh dodged again. “Uh. My day?”

“Yes, Hugh.”

Hugh reached down to “E”.

“Not dead yet, so I guess, ‘bout as well as it could.” Hugh’s hand traveled through the empire. “Chem was kinda rough. Big test this morning. Half the class didn’t make it.”

“Oh,” Alder said. “That sounds serious.”

“Yeah, well.  Funeral services are gonna be next week.”

Hugh dived down to “F”.

“How did you do, Hugh?”

Hugh dove faster through the bag. “Okay, probably. Not really worried ‘bout that, honestly. Chem’s not my problem. Just wanna have a lab partner that doesn’t go off and choke it in some tragic accident, for once.”

“That sounds difficult.”

A fire broke out in the main pocket. Hugh’s hand stopped.

“It’s whatever, “Hugh replied. “If you wanna talk hard, there was art today, and uh, hope my teacher’s into dada.”

“They might be. It’s possible.”

Firefighters froze the fire. Hugh’s hand continued.

“I dunno. I think I might not be much of an art guy. Just don’t have that technique down.”

“I am sure you will be fine.” Alder said. “Art is a personal process, more than a physical one.”

“Yeah, well. Not so good at that touchy, feely stuff either,” Hugh said. “Call me zero-for-two.”

Alder didn’t move a single muscle, but Hugh could hear a smile in his voice. “Oh, Hugh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Hugh’s hand darted straight to “G”, now.

“Alright, alright, now we’re getting somewhere. Wait shouldn’t be so long now.”

“Take your time.”

Hugh slinked past Ganymede, and garbage, and a collection of gel-pens. He slid past a book on Ghana, a glass menagerie, and gnocchi. He reached past gondolas, a load of gibberish and--

Then, he stopped.

“Aw, crud.”

“What?”

“Ran into a gate.”

Hugh’s palm rested flat against the cold, metal face of the gate.

“I can get past it, but it’s gonna take a little. Just hold on a sec.”

“Of course.”

A wave rippled out through the library walls, surrounding Hugh, surrounding Alder. The walls rose at the bookshelves in the east, peaked at the book-cliffs in the south, fell at the book-shores in the west, and died in the book-fields in the north.

As the wave passed over Hugh, Alder saw how small the student was underneath it. Above, the walls roared and lunged and crashed and hissed. Below, Hugh, a speck, with his hand still wrenching through the backpack pocket.

Alder cleared his throat.

Alder asked Hugh: “How have you been doing? Since the other day?”

Hugh paused for a second. Hugh got back to work.

“I dunno,” Hugh replied.

Alder continued. “How are you feeling?”

“I dunno.” Hugh kept his eyes on the bag. “Could tell you, same old same old. Wouldn’t be a lie, you know.” His voice fell into a mutter. “Just making stuff more complicated, like always.”

“Hugh,” Alder said. “Can I ask, what’s complicated?”

Hugh sighed.

“I dunno. God, I gotta stop saying that, I dunno.” Hugh shook his head, and continued opening the gate. “You really wanna hear this?”

“Yes,” Alder replied.

The drywall tide circled around again, cresting higher.

Hugh looked down. “If you wanna know, then… I guess it’s kinda like,” Hugh looked up. “Like…”

“Take your time, Hugh.”

“Yeah, don’t gotta tell me,” Hugh replied. “It’s like. I dunno why I’m still holding onto all this mess.” Hugh paused. Then, he continued. “I’ve been thinking, I could probably try to forget about it if I wanted to. My friends have. I dunno if it’s cause of magic or whatever, but it’s all just gone for them. I think, sometimes, last couple days at least, it’d probably make me happier if I did too.”

“But you aren’t.”

“But I’m not. I’m not forgetting,” Hugh said. “That whole day-- I don’t even really know what to say about it. It still feels like some weird dream I had. But it happened. I know it did. It reminds me every day it did.”

“Hugh,” Alder said.

“I guess... with the whole, reminding myself thing, I needed-- I still need to know-- it was all real.”

“Hugh,” Alder replied. “I was there. I am here now. It was real.”

Hugh breathed out. “Yeah.”

“Hugh,” Alder said. “You are just trying to understand what happened.”

At that moment, Hugh finally unlatched the gate from behind, and opened it up,

“Okay! Enough on me! Gate’s open, so just gimme a moment.”

“I will give you that moment, Hugh.”

Hugh moved his arm through the bag. His fingers clasped tight around something. “I dunno how this thing got stuck here but...”

Hugh reeled his hand out the mouth of the bag.

“Okay! Here it-- is!”

Out from the backpack fell another, golden-colored backpack.

Hugh reacted quickly.

“God-- damn it! Urgh!”

Immediately, Hugh kicked the golden backpack under a table, and recoiled back.

“God! Leave me alone!” Hugh cursed. “Christ’s sake!”

Hugh’s head ached. Fingers moved to temples to rub it away.

“Ugh. I swear! It’s like some horror movie, just following me like that. ‘Cept the horror is-- it’s nothing, it’s tacky school fashion. God, gimme a break!”

Alder spoke.

“You are right,” he said, “to be fearful of it.”

Hugh turned back to Alder.

“Hugh Jadhav, you are right…” Alder spoke, “you are right… you are right...”

“Hey, hey, don’t strain yourself,” Hugh said. “I get it. The bag’s bad news. You can’t tell me. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hugh Jadhav…” Alder’s words trailed off. The name faded in the air.

Hugh sighed. “Okay. Let’s try a take two. If that thing’s gone--” Hugh pointed to the gold bag, “I bet I know where the other stupid thing is.”

Hugh sucked in a lungful of breath, clamped fingers on his nose, and dove cannonball-style right into the backpack.

Alder waited. Stalks of books waved next to him, in the library wind. The walls had calmed down now, and hummed quietly. Emotions beamed down from each one, onto the desk, the backpack, and the librarian. Their soft colors, spilling on colors, spilling over the scene.

Three or four minutes passed.

Then Hugh, on cue, jumped back out of the backpack. He landed heavy on the floor. He gasped for breath. Air flooded back into his lungs.

“Hooooooo boy,” Hugh wheezed. “Just, just lemme take a moment, just a sec for myself here.” Hugh stretched his back out. “Hooooh, okay. Okay, okay.” Hugh stood himself up straight. “Alright, I’m good, I’m good.”

Hugh clutched his catch in one hand. “Kept you waiting long enough, but here’s what I gotcha. Take a look.” Hugh held up a small, thin sewing needle in his fist, made of gleaming gold.

Alder was still.

“Uh. You’re looking, right?”

“I am looking.”

“Stupid question,” he whispered. “Okay, so. Before anything, lemme just remind you, just a moment,” Hugh said. “No holding your breath, alright Alder? Promise?”

“I will not hold my breath,” Alder said. “I promise.”

“Okay. So…” Hugh held the needle between his fingers. “I picked this thing up last night. Went through a heck of a lot just to pick this up, you know. Did you know there’s this whole, like, underground settlement somewhere in the basement of the school?”

“No,” Alder replied. “I did not. How was it?”

“A big old pain, that’s how it was. It was unbelievable. There was this disaster in the halls-- I guess there’s always some disaster in the halls-- and then a whole hour-long thing with the school supply store there, and I got in this big stupid fight...”

“Are you unhurt?”

“...It was such a--” Hugh stopped.

“You were not harmed along the way?”

Hugh took a second to pause. He patted himself down.

“Oh. Uh. I guess I’m fine. Uh, didn’t need to pat to show that but, uh...”

“Good. That is good to hear, Mr. Jadhav.”

“Yeah, good. So.” Hugh said. He shifted back into conversation.  “It was a huge pain, had to fight, confronted my mortality, yadda yadda, anyways. Take a look at this.” Hugh twirled the needle in his fingers. “This here’s a Gold Needle.”

“Gold Needle?”

“Yeah, basic name, isn’t it?”

“Very descriptive.”

“Tch, that’s for sure,” Hugh rolled the Gold Needle around. “This thing’s supposed to cure petrification. Like if someone’s been turned to stone, you just prick ‘em, and that’s that, poof, everything’s fine.”

“I see.”

“I know you aren’t like, petrified, technically,” Hugh went on, “like you aren’t literally frozen in stone…”

“No.”

“So, that’s why I don’t want you to hold your breath.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Uh.”

Hugh stood there with his needle, silent.

“Hugh. Let’s try it now, then.”

“Oh, yeah, duh.”

Hugh took the needle, and pointed it to Alder. “Okay. Just gonna, gonna poke you with this needle. Uh. We were clear on that, right?”

“Of course, Hugh.”

“Okay.”

Hugh looked over the needle. The needle looked over Alder’s skin. The needlepoint was shiny. The needlepoint was sharp.

Hugh had a thought.

“Okay, funny story,” Hugh said. “So. I was just thinking about my, uh, well, my uncle. I have this uncle, and he’s, he’s,” Hugh struggled for the word, “he’s one of those, acupuncturists.”

Alder said nothing.

“I was thinkin ‘bout this one time, I had to stay with him during work cause my mom and dad were super busy. I ended up watching him a little at his job.” Words kept pouring out of Hugh. “You ever seen acupuncture take place? It’s the weirdest thing ever. He’d just sorta, flick those needles in. You don’t even see them sink in. He’d just, flick them, and they’d be stuck there, like that.”

Hugh’s hands wobbled.

“He told me, after the job, he told me this whole thing to just imagine all the acupuncture points, and how to know where to hit.” Hugh looked at Alder. Hugh looked for the points. Hugh saw skin, on skin, on skin. “And he said, if you hit the wrong point, everything gets thrown off. Everything…”

Hugh put the needle down.

“Um. Alder. I dunno what to do with this thing.”

The breeze curled around Alder, like a statue, and passed.

“Take my third palm, Hugh.”

Hugh’s eyes searched for Alder’s third palm. “This?” He said, pointing.

“Yes.” Alder said. “Trace your eyes along its lines. You should see a point where they intersect, in a sort of cross.”

Hugh’s eyes traced the lines. Hugh traced them to the cross.

“Strike the needle there.”

Hugh tensed up. He centered the needle over the middle of the cross.

“There. Okay. There.”

The metal felt cold in his hand. The spindle, thin and tiny in his fingers. He thought again about his uncle. He saw his rough hands flicking in each silver pin. He saw each one, sticking out in the soft flesh. He saw pressure points, glowing, overlapping, messy.

“Okay. Whatever. It’s there; let’s just do this thing,” Hugh said.

Then Hugh stuck the needlepoint in.

Hugh was still.

Alder was still.

Hugh was still.

Alder was still.

Hugh was still.

Alder was still.

Alder was still still.

Hugh drew the needle back.

“Well.”

Hugh slumped over in a chair growing next to him.

“Hugh?”

Hugh hunched over. “Guess it was right to tell you not to hold your breath.”

“You think so?” Alder asked.

Hugh looked straight at the floor.

“I’m sorry, Alder. Really.”

Alder replied, “it is okay, Hugh. It is okay.”

“I know I gave you that whole dramatic speech before ‘bout helping you.”

“Hugh.”

“I gave you that whole spiel about it.”

“Hugh. I am fine.”

“But I guess, so far, I’ve been a liar.”

“Hugh Jadhav,” Alder said. “That isn’t right at all.”

“Alder. It’s okay. Don’t gotta be nice for my sake.”

“I am not.”

Hugh looked up at Alder.

“I am being perfectly honest,” he continued. “Hugh, I appreciate all you’ve done so far. I do. I appreciate you coming here. I appreciate your conversation. I appreciate you coming to help me.”

Hugh sank. “It’s just. Alder. When my body was stuck in that book it was-- I’m not gonna lie, it was awful. Just… awful. And you. You’ve been like that for how long now?”

“I understand, Hugh. And it is kind of you to want to help me.”

“I dunno about that.”

“Hugh. It’s true.” Alder moved nothing, yet Hugh could feel his presence shifting towards him. “I’ll tell you right now, I’ve been in this state for a long time now. Longer than you have been alive. Longer than your world has existed. Longer than your mind can know.” The books stalks waved around Hugh, as Alder spoke. “And over that time, I’ve met students like you. Not too often, but always someone. They want to talk. They want to help. They try.”

“And?”

“And that’s it. Nothing has changed.” Alder’s words hung. “But I don’t feel frustrated, Hugh. Do you want to know how I feel, Hugh?” Hugh could feel warmth off of Alder’s voice. “I feel happy, Hugh. I feel happy that you tried for me.”

Hugh shook his head.

“Yeah, well. Bet you’d feel happier if you could move.”

The clock hand ticked against the hour then. Next period was soon.

Hugh stood up from his chair. “Period 3’s coming up in a couple minutes. I better get going.”

“Yes. Don’t forget your things, Hugh.”

“I won’t.”

Hugh re-organized his backpack, and zipped it back shut. He slung the strap around his back, and turned to the door.

“Well.” Hugh said. “Be back next week.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Hugh.”

“Okay.”

Hugh’s back was turned to Alder.

“Next week,” Alder repeated.

“Next week,” Hugh repeated.

Hugh walked to the doorway.

At that moment, without Hugh or Alder noticing, something had started to stir on the library floor. The golden backpack, hidden underneath its table, began to hum. Its humming began quiet, and firm. Softly and slowly, the humming grew. Over the next row of seconds, a momentum swung thicker and thicker through the music. A stiff melody was starting to unfurl in the sound. Then, as the melody bloomed wide open in the momentum of the song, a brilliant light seeped out from the backpack pocket.

The light pooled in the pocket. It grew, beginning to sculpt and mold itself. The light separated, shaping into thin, invisible threads. The threads streamed out from the pocket. The threads became wind. The wind drifted out into the room.

The wind was being called. It whirled, spun, and swirled around the walls. Its destination was close. The wind spiraled up. It hunted through the air. It found its target. It darted forward. It sank against Alder’s skin.

“Oh, Hugh,” Alder said.

“Yeah.”

Slowly, Alder groaned his neck, and his head twisted an inch towards Hugh.

“I wanted to say, take care.”

Hugh sighed. He looked back. “You too.” He looked forward.

Hugh continued to the hall. Hugh walked on through.

And then, Hugh realized. “Wait--” Hugh turned, snapping back to the library.