#thank you for the amazing questions

[minzbins]

happy holidays kashi @jeonsupershy love from your carat secret santa ☃️🎄🎁❤️

cr. : win for WONWOO

[katerinaaqu]

Gosh dude your comment is so amazing! It so made my night even further after having yet another conversation with you! Oh gosh thank you so much! 💖 and man yeah I imagined Odysseus having the almost literal Casus Belli by his side after 10 long years plus that traumatizing night of the sacking of Troy must have done a lot in his soul making him feel boiling inside. Gosh thank you! I wanted it to be a mutual conversation not just Helen calling him out or him calling her out but a mutual conversation in which they share their frustration.

Man I imagined that Helen would feel indeed starved for some kindness after that experience so feeling Odysseus so cold with her would make her feel like pointing out he is cruel to her. To which of course he retaliated as to what she expected him to be like or something if that makes sense.

Yup Telemachus was just born when he left for Troy so at the moment they speak Telemachus is already 10 years old! Just the numbers are crazy right?! And yeah somehow they do know that neither wanted any of this to happen and somehow their frustration needs to be spoken. And yeah I would imagine the title Sacker of Cities would burn him like hell fire now after that massacre!

Yup hehehe technically Odysseus meets Penelope when he goes to become a suitor to Helen. Which is what in a way leads to Trojan war. Odysseus made a deal with Tyndareus that he would help him avoid a scandal if a king was offended and in return he would speak a good word to his brother Icarius so Odysseus could become a suitor to Penelope and then Odysseus came up with the oath of Tyndareus which basically was what Menelaus used to call them all to battle. Yup hehehe Penelope was a spartan princess.

Oh my thank you! 🫂 oh gosh it would be too much to explain right?! (My some of that is explored to my fic "Guilt" however I do entertain all possibilities and man it surely is so hard!)

Gosh thank you so much! 💓 I am always ecstatic when people notice the tiny details and the discreet moves that I try to bring up! I am so honored it drew your attention! Oh my they are alike to that aren't they? Just for different reasons! Sheesh thank you! I loved the mutual respect and the matching wits between Helen and Odysseus so exploring their interaction was a great pleasure! And I really thank you for liking the pace!

If I mind it?! Dude I live for it!

Yup that was the concept @prompted-wordsmith used for the fic to which I replied with with this one. Basically Odysseus was holding the mouths of others who nearly responded to the calls of Helen. And that moment is indeed of massive inspiration to this interaction as well given that Odysseus could have been played a cruel game as well hearing Penelope for the first time after 10 years and holy moly it was a fake one. Well Menelaus wouldn't have a reason to lie about it given that his wife was proven to be cunning as well. It would make more sense for Menelaus to lie if Helen wasn't back at being his equal as his rightful wife. In this Helen sits to the same table as him and all so I am not sure if Menelaus would have any reason to lie with saying "I nearly broke my cover because of my wife"

Yup basically what made me so happy that Helen and Odysseus are basically matching each other in wits. Helen saw right through the cover of Odysseus and she chose not to sound the alarm because she was having a change of heart. It was the moment when Odysseus with Diomedes disguised themselves to scan the city and according to a prophecy they stole the palladium of Athena. And yup I absolutely had that scene in mind when I wrote this hehehe

That is a very good question. Well according to Odyssey yes she was tricked by Aphrodite. Could it be that Helen was lying and was trying to justify herself? Or even as she says it "Aphrodite made me fall for him" or "The goddess of love made me fall for him" in other words symbolically "I fell in love with him" 😉 Homer is a master upon writing stuff that can be interpreted in many ways and I think this one is one of them. I agree that from a writer's perspective her being young and foolish and somehow failing for Paris, abandoning her husband and children for him and regretting it the next moment would be a delicious case for a writer or indeed Aphrodite clouded her judgement (which again out of symbolic value can be translated as her falling in love). In this story I use the terms Helen herself used in the Odyssey but writer-wise I do not see the two as mutually exclusive because one can see it as a symbol. It also depends on how the Epic Cycle is being interpreted as well. Indeed. Helen could be seen as "a bit" damsel in distress in the essence of war because she is not a warrior but nope indeed she is far from that in general. She speaks her mind, she is self-conscious she is intelligent and she also has many talents and virtues. I'd say she is one of the most misinterpreted female characters of Greek mythology. She definitely is not just another pretty face.

Gosh thank you so much for this amazing insight and comment! You're awesome

@prompted-wordsmith

This is for you because your small story was amazing so I want to create one in return! And since you want Helen to speak up more here is a little interaction pre-departure from Troy between Helen and Odysseus because why not!

The city hadn't yet stopped smoking from the night of massacre. Helen feared it never would. The smell of burning wood and asbestos was sticking on her clothes and hair; bitter reminder of the events of the night before. Helen didn't want even to think of the lingering smell of blood; metal and water that she had touched. It was as if everything was red now; hands and heart and bloodshot eyes. She hadn't slept that night or the night after it. She feared she never would again.

She could still feel that this was partially her fault; both the beginning and the end of it. She knew the Horse was a farse; a well-staged plan. She chose not to alert the alarm. She had chosen her side once more. And now women and children and men at Troy were laying down dead or worse. She remembered seeing Andromache being dragged out of the city in chains along with other women. They were to be sold as slaves or given as prices to the kings of the Acheans. The once proud queen was now crying woefully; mourning her husband who was killed. She had been dragged out of her husband's tomb where she went to seek sanctuary. That was the ultimate hubris along with her father-in-law Priam who she heard from a conversation had been slain upon the altar he hoped would grand him his life. She heard it was Neoptolemus, the young man who carried the blood of Achilles in his veins and apparently his rage and temper. Who would have known that a child like that could be so cruel and blasphemous? So full of rage? Helen could not see her infant son in her arms as she was taken away. She didn't even dare to ask. For a brief second Andromache raised her head and her honey eyes stuck within her blue ones. The look was almost accusatory as the tears had given her face reddish lines. Or perhaps it was the self inflicted scratches that she had made in her woe. That second lasted longer than it should be before the queen was dragged away.

"That could have been me..." she thought

However her position was not much different. As she was standing at the peer, she was always guarded by a soldier; obviously her husband wanted both to protect her but also obviously he didn't trust her. Helen couldn't say she blamed him but it still hurt. She was seeing Menelaus talking to Odysseus, sorting out the details. Helen watched her husband and her former fiance in wonder. Indeed how strange fate was! How different the two men were! She could tell Menelaus's auburn hair from kilometers away as they were held together by a band around his head. He was well built and strong, seemed dressed in sunlight. Odysseus next to him seemed the opposite. He wasn't tall. He was barely average, a few decent inches shorter than her husband and a good head shorter than her brother-in-law however he seemed wider in shoulder and his chest resembled a wall dressed in a coat of dark curly hair. His head was adorned with black hair that seemed golden under the setting sun: bushy and curly like a ram held together by various little bands that held his curls tamed under his leather headband. His beard was equally bushy and shaggy even if he had obviously tried to make himself more presentable from the night before. His onyx eyes were bottomless holes. The man seemed tired; prematurely aged that day. Helen knew that he had a similar burden to bare with her. How strange indeed, she thought. The man seemed like coming from the night. And yet he seemed darker now; his shoulders seemed heavier than before.

"Take her home safely"

Odysseus's voice drew her out of her daydream. His voice was hoarse and tired. He seemed aged before his years. Helen remembered again the flamboyant young man that was supposed to court her. Sure his eyes filled with premature wisdom and intelligence gave him an aura of age but she could remember his laughter and smile seemed those of a teenager as if trying to persuade people of his actual age. Now that teen was gone. He was a man now; long past that first youth; a Sacker of Cities.

"Otherwise all this would have been for nothing!"

The timbre in his voice; the seer accusation, hurt her much more than anything besides her husband's distrust. No, at least Odysseus...the wise and prudent Odysseus should understand. Menelaus nodded to his loyal friend and shot her with yet another look. Helen couldn't decide if it was angry or closer to sad. As he walked away she turned again to look at Odysseus. The man barely saw her with the corner of his eye but spoke nothing. Helen couldn't bare the silence any longer.

"Odysseus..." she finally spoke, "Why? How can you be so cruel?"

"Cruel?" His voice was full of disbelief, of anger that made his chest rise like the tide

He turned to her walking like a lion ready to pounce. Helen stood her ground though. She stuck her ocean blue eyes deeply within his black ones.

"Cruel?" He repeated, "I've lost my son's first 10 years because of this war!"

"This war wasn't my choice!" Helen felt the need to defend herself against him.

"It commensed because of you!" The accusation was finally spoken outloud, "Menelaus started this because of you!"

"I didn't know he-..."

"YES YOU DID!" Odysseus finally bellowed making her take a step back, "yes you did...you just didn't think!"

He turned her back at her. He was about to leave but he didn't seem done yet.

"The blood of many brave Acheans is on your hands..."

That was way too much. Odysseus should know better than hurt her this way! This was unfair even if spoken through pain and anger. Bravely Helen held back the tears that burnt her eyes. He wouldn't see her weep!

"If I told you..." she began with the best voice she could master, "...that gods play games with us all the time...that they cloud our judgment... Would you believe me?"

Odysseus looked over his shoulder but spoke nothing.

"You of all people should understand" Helen whispered

"What does it matter what I'd believe?"

"It matters to me!" Helen replied firmly. "Please, Odysseus...at least you...at least you should believe me..."

Odysseus seemed ready to reply but the last minute he stopped himself. He chose silence; cruel and cold silence. He began walking away. Two angry tears ran down her white, rosy cheeks. No she couldn't leave it this way!

"ODYSSEUS!" She yelled after him, "you're a hypocrite!"

That stopped him to his tracks as he turned around.

"What?" He asked almost scandalized

Helen was shivering from top to bottom and her knuckles turned white from clenching them too hard.

"Do you think you're any better, Sacker of cities?!" The last one was spat like an insult like a curse, "do you think your hands are clean? You say that the war commensed because of me! That so many Greeks died because of me! Then what about you, Odysseus? What about all the Trojans killed in the city in that bloodbath?! What about all these women and children that are now piled up to be burnt or eaten by dogs and vultures? Who is to answer for THOSE Odysseus?"

Odysseus of Ithaca was frozen in place, shaking in anger but so was she. And she wouldn't be stopped now. She was Helen of Sparta, Helen of Troy, Helen the daughter of Zeus!

"It was your plan, your scheme that got the Greeks inside the holy city of Troy! It was your idea that gave them the way to sack it!"

Odysseus, the eloquent man seemed now unable to respond. He seemed stripped out of his furious anger although some of it was burning inside. Instead he managed to utter

"This massacre wasn't my choice..."

A sound between humorless and mocking laughter and cry came out of her mouth.

"Oh so you tell me you didn't know? You didn't know that the Greeks who were away from their homes, wives and children wouldn't unleash all their piled hatred? Didn't you know they would burn the city that kept them away from them to the ground so it wouldn't rise again?"

He didn't respond. Helen knew he couldn't.

"You say the blood of the Greeks is on my hands. Then the blood of Trojans is on yours!"

Odysseus seemed to have trouble breathing. She had hurt him and she knew it. Perhaps she had simply voiced everything he had in his mind all those days. She could remember how tenderly he spoke of his wife and son. Her husband used to say he identified himself as father of Telemachus not son of Laërtes. Women and children...his son and wife... He seemed ready to either lash at her or leave. However as always The Man of Many Ways sighed and did the unexpected; he spoke again.

"It doesn't matter whether I believe you or not, you know. What it matters is if he does"

Helen took a glance towards Menelaus from a distance. He was preparing the ship. She sighed and returned her gaze towards the man they called "equal to gods".

"But do you?"

"Yes" he finally admitted, "yes I believe you"

Helen sighed in relief. It was her thanking to him

"There is fate between us, Helen..." Odysseus said hoarsely.

Helen didn't need to see his face behind his wide back to read his expression.

"Yes" she replied, "you could have been my husband"

"I am glad that I'm not"

That husky whisper made her look up in wonder. She didn't expect that answer.

"You don't deserve me" the son of Laërtes said, "and I don't deserve you"

He barely looked at her again over his large shoulder.

"I see now why my cousin loved you" whispered she

"And I see why he loved you." Replied Odysseus, "why he started a war for you. Not for his pride; for you. You were indeed worth it..."

He looked at her again for the first time for a while.

"You and I have both blood on our hands" he said grimly, "you, the starter of war, hold the blood of many brave Acheans upon you...while I, the one who ended it, the Sacker of Cities, will have to live for the rest of my life carrying the deaths of Trojans upon me... Women and children..."

He covered his face with his large hand and turned around. He was sobbing.

"Women and children..." he whispered again, "Penelope...my sweet Telemachus...children... infants no older than he was..."

Helen was afraid to ask. She didn't want to know. She had met enough horror for a lifetime. She wanted to move on. She wanted to forget.

"Get home safely, Odysseus" she wished to him, "Husband to Penelope...father to Telemachus. I hope you will get what you wished for..."

"You too, Helen, kissed by the sun like golden Aphrodite...daughter of Zeus. Farewell Queen of Sparta..."

He walked away. Helen heard his voice yelling orders to his men like the expert sailor he was. Helen sighed and smiled so slightly. The title he used...was addressed to her. Odysseus had recognized her admitted her but also signaled her, her fate. She knew now she had a second chance to rectify everything; first for herself and next for everyone else.

The journey had come to an end. A new one was about to begin.

Okay guys I am so sorry I have no idea why or how but yeah...this... I hope you liked it.

[hisui555]

Cooking commentary

Or, as my grandma would say : "That's a dish traditionally enjoyable by two people : one to distract the cook, the other to throw it out the nearest window."

Bonus :

(Had the idea to have Hero try to comfort him with kind words, only to accidentally finish him - "Don't worry I mess up vivariums too sometimes and then I can't house the beetles I catch" - with Assok laughing their fabric ass off but... meh, long enough already.)

[chrissy-kaos]

You're super pretty <3

No you :3

Thank you 🫶🏻

[askdocjwatson]

Who's Archie's favourite?

Thank goodness it’s still me.

(I’d be very heartbroken if it was someone else when I’m the one who feeds him)

@strawberrywinter4 also asked what his favorite treat is and it’s apples! He practically bullies me for them so I’ve gotten into the routine of taking about 1/4 of an apple and slicing it into tiny cubes for him.

Thanks for the Archie questions !

[ahalliance]

Antoine, reading chat: “My favourite work/creation on QSMP?” Pomme

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Was caine the 1st performer harlequin

[bluebellowl]

THEY'RE HOLDING HANDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My sister and I will hold hands when we have to get our vaccines. Reminds me of that. Very cute!

(@golden-buddle Imma group you two together)

YES!! They're holding hands! They've been through hell together for MUCH longer than just one night *tease tease*

I'll tell yall more as soon as i can ;)

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #38

The observants are in a bit of a pickle, at the moment. The young Danny Fenton is refusing to be the Ghost King, saying he is too busy and doesn't want the responsibility that comes with it. Clockwork insists they don't need a king, but what does he know?

Who else could be their king? The other halfa, Vlad Masters? No, no, he'd be almost as bad as Pariah Dark. The clone? No, she's not nearly stable enough. Ruling the realms would be the definitive end of her.

That's when they remembered. There was this guy who reeked of death in Gotham. He had started a legacy, he helps lead one of the strongest team of heroes in the world, surely he'd be a great fit! He's not exactly a ghost, but beggars can't be choosers!

[jethrowest]

i feel alone in my body; i feel a silence underneath…

- jaded by spiritbox

eva (the boys oc)/homelander

for @blindmagdalena 🖤

commissioned art (full sfw-ish piece at the end) by @thevanityofthefox 🖤

mdni! 18+! homelander is a warning altogether.

It’s enervating being close to someone like Homelander.

At first, it had been deliciously overstimulating receiving the tiniest speck of his energy. What he’s comprised of. Every single experiment performed on him; everything he’s destroyed and killed in the process.

It’s addictive to Eva. She can pour all of her pain into him, and, in return, taste the bottomless pit he is. This shining beacon of macabre hope.

He reminds her constantly that she needs him. While that holds significant weight, she can extract nourishment elsewhere if she chooses to, just as she had before knowing what he could mean to her.

She requires life to sustain her own. Such sustenance can come from plants, insects, animals, people, Supes; anything that has vitality.

This is simply another aspect for him to control, and she understands that. If Homelander can feel his essence masking any and everything else in her their his world, then he’s almost as satiated as she is.

However, sometimes, it drains her more than fills. It’s a conflicting phenomena within her body. Electric currents that repeatedly shock her into rejuvenation, into a power she can hardly describe with words, and then, a heavy affectation that bludgeons itself across something that normally consists of the rarest gold. Parasites and mold and all things ugly masking what shouldn’t have become so tainted.

Homelander’s shadow, as she calls it, is what usually ruins the intense pleasure she drowns in.

She’s uncertain what might have caused him to shift, but that particular darkness now enshrouds him, and she picks up on it straight away. The warmth emanating from him fades, replaced by a cold, eternal sickness.

Eva can absorb energy through her hands. If she concentrates enough, she can use her mind as well. But that requires a lot more than she can often give.

He’s demanding of her abilities, slipping ungloved fingers inside her nightgown. He grips her breast with fervor while his tongue flicks like a serpent’s, whispering the oldest of sins into her burning ear.

He coaxes her own unsheathed palms to take so he can see himself reflected inside her shapes, dips, curves, and colors. So he can become one with something outside of himself.

So he can be more than he’d been promised. Than he’d been conditioned to believe.

It’s not the first time he’s fucked her to experience even a fraction of what and who he is.

It’s lonely being the only one like him. The singular star at the top of the universe’s Christmas tree, separate from cookie-cutter tinsel and baubles.

It’s lonely being someone who is a reflection of all they’ve gorged on and buried within themselves. Homelander digs himself out as much as he can, causing a pain so deep, it’s beyond bones.

Gradually, Eva has become his mirror, and she’s lost herself within it.

dividers credit

writing tag

[unriding]

hi evie !! how have you been ? :33 i hope you dont mind me borrowing you and moze for something ehehe <3

[rodolfoparras]

Hi! I just have to know… what are your thoughts on Makarov/Price, or just Price with a very intense and feisty partner 👀

Oh my god friend I loved this question but Istg every time I went to answer it I ended up with a response in the form of a book so I’m doing my best to stick to bullet points

Anyways I present to you Price with a very intense / feisty reader

First and foremost I want to note that Price isn’t docile himself, he feels rather strongly and sometimes acts impulsively but he’s learned to handle it throughout the years.

However when he first enlisted , fresh faced and ready to conquer the injustices of the world, higher ups saw these attributes as something to take advantage of so that they did.

Back then he didn’t see that, he was just happy that there were people in power willing to listen and willing to help him and while he got his hands dirty and went against everything he stood for, the higher ups stayed back home while offering simple promotions for his dirty work.

Since Price rose so fast in ranking, he probably attended many private parties and banquets organized by the army, and at one of those events he was bound to meet his future s/o

Back then he’d met you because he’d snuck out the event, had felt suffocated by the crowd and went outside to smoke.

There you were leaned up against the wall and offering him your cigarette

He swiftly takes it, while discreetly giving you a once over, noting you must be a soldier but not one attending this specific event for whatever reasons.

“Party that boring eh?” You say, noting the suit on him and the gloomy look on his face,

“You can say that” he says before taking a drag of the cigarette. “I’m not much of a party person actually” he says, taking another drag before passing the cigarette back to you.

“Yet you attended this one “‘you say with a smile on your face while exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Didn’t have a choice” Price shrugs watching tobacco smoke swirl around in the dark sky.

“Says who?” You say, passing the cigarette back to him.

“The party’s for me” Price says, lip curling in disdain.

You feel your eyes widen at his words, attention now fully on him rather than the tobacco.

“Oh now you’ve got me curios”

“Just a promotion, nothing special” he says, lips now curling into a small smile

“Nothing special eh what is it? Captain?”

“Lieutenant”

“You’re right, doesn’t sound special at all” you snort and he laughs along with you

Just as you’re about to say something else you see someone waving him over.

“Looks like someone’s calling for you -“

“Price”

“I’ll see you around Lieutenant price “ you say with a smile on your face, snuffing out your cigarette before walking away.

The next time he sees you, is when you’re being reprimanded for your behavior and he’s in charge of your punishment. It had been a minor offense but had resulted in you having to run laps in the rain. However when you had arrived in front of him he had quickly released you off of it.

“A merciful lieutenant who’d think that?” You say with a smile on your face.

“Don’t see a point of you just running around in the rain, join me instead?” He says with a smile on his own while waving a cigarette in the air.

As you sit down and smoke, he finds out that many times you’ve ended up being reprimanded for your behavior but that they haven’t kicked you out yet since you’re a very good soldier.

However he cant seem to comprehend why you keep getting yourself in trouble and you don’t give him a clear answer to that question either.

“Just remember while our hands get dirty someone else’s stay clean, I’ll see you around lieutenant Price”

After that you continue to bump into each other and every time you do, it’s because you’re in some trouble and Price is the one to get you out of the punishment. He’s still torn between being loyal to the higher ups and accepting the fact that they’re using him as a pawn in their own little games .

However he ends up making a decision when you get in trouble despite having done nothing wrong. You’re sent to your room and ordered to attend a disciplinary meeting. Price tries to reason with the higher ups, but they aren’t listening and in that very moment he realizes that these people don’t care about doing the right thing. They care about having power and controlling their subordinates

Feeling frustrated about the situation, and also feeling deeply worried for you, he decides to go and see you.

For someone who risks losing their entire career you look calm as ever, opening the door with a soft smile on your face.

“Lieutenant” you say while gesturing for him to come in

“Price” he subconsciously correct while walking inside.

“So what brings you here? Not that I’m opposed to it or anything.”

“Just wanted to see if you’re alright after everything that happened today”

“Oh that?”You wave him off before patting down the pockets of your coat that hangs on the wall, and pull out a pack of cigarettes.

You quickly light one up and pass it to him, before gesturing for him to sit down on your bed with you.

“You’re not worried that you’ll get kicked out?” He says, taking a drag of the cigarette before passing it to you.

You chuckle in response, putting the cigarette between your lips before you go to respond “not really, maybe I’d be if I still were a recruit but now? Not so much?”

“Why?” He says watching you exhale the smoke into the air before his eyes fall onto your lips, the way they pucker up to release the smoke, before falling back into a natural pout.

“I don’t know if you’ve realized it yet but they don’t give a shit about us here”

“I’m starting to” he says, eyes still locked on your lips, noting the way they’re curling up into a grin.

“Good” is all you say, “now if that’s all you wanted to say I suppose we’re done here unless..” you trail off, voice going lower as you lean closer to him.

For a second his eyes widen, body freezing in place. You continue to lean in closer until there’s only a cloud of smoke between you, serving as a barrier.

“Im- I -“ he tries to speak but his brain isn’t cooperating with his mouth. Instead he focuses on the way you lick your lips before you speak.

“If you don’t want this tell me to stop and I’ll-“ but before you can say more he grabs ahold of your neck and smashes your lips together, leaving you wide eyed and gasping before your eyes flutter shut and you lose yourself into the kiss

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you” he says looking like a whole sight with the sheets draped over his waist while lounging on your bed.

“No I’ll be fine” you say while shrugging on your shirt. “You stay here, I’ll be back soon” you add, eyes trailing over his naked body and feeling blood pool down to your lower half.

“Okay “ he says biting down on his lips before sinking back into the sheets .

You return quickly just like you had promised, and Price keeps his own promises by staying in your bed.

He stays there all day and for many more years to come. However the two of you don’t become anything official until much later on seeing as he’s focusing more on his career than having a relationship.

But in between those years of waiting you become a close companion of his as well as someone who knows his body better than anybody else in this world. You taught him to not let people take advantage of him and to do what he thinks and feels is right. He’s still loyal to some degree to those above him solely for the reason that they sometimes can come in hand. However Price wouldn’t let anyone dull your spark. He’d always aim to make sure that you get to stay true to yourself even if that means getting into a fight with his squad because you’re getting on the teams nerves with your temper, or making it clear that you are to be as respected as he is even though you don’t have some fancy title to go with your name

You work seamlessly together so much so people will come up to him and tell him “keep your dog on a leash” referring to the way you’re hovering behind Price and barring your teeth. But Price’s lips would only curl up into a smile before he responds with “it’s not him you have to worry about” because even though he’s learned to bite his tongue in order to keep important pawns on his chess board, he’d bite anyone’s neck off if they were to disrespect you.

[princesshair]

10 days of Harry Styles ↳ day 10 → HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY HARRY! (insp.)

[swaps55]

What is Hannah like out of the uniform? Does she have non-uniform formalwear?

Ooooh, what an excellent question!! I have spent some time recently wondering about her personal life, who her friends are, what her support system looks like.

As for her wardrobe, I see her as being someone who always looks put together out of a uniform. Not overly fancy, but unlike Sam she does give a shit about her appearance, even if it's more to communicate authority than style. I'd imagine her closet is very timeless - a moderate wardrobe that doesn't get updated often because it never goes out of style. A very tailored look, probably button down/collared shirts and turtlenecks. For a formal event, sheath type dresses that are not ostentatious but nevertheless grab your attention.

In general, I think she has a wide network of allies and people she trusts. She is well connected and extremely well respected, but only has a handful of friends or confidants. I think of her as very aromantic, which is part of why her relationship with Daniel ultimately failed, so any relationships she has are not romantic, though occasionally they are sexual, with men and women.

I haven't fully answered the question of, "who did she talk to after Sam died?" Though I have thought about it. I don't think she really processed his death at all, and has some very complicated feelings she hasn't sorted through yet.

I got an image in my head that I'm really compelled by of her with a woman who is perhaps the closest person she has to a confidant, and is also an occasional sexual partner. As the woman is getting ready to leave after one of their rendezvous, Hannah bursts into tears and admits that she's struggling to even understand what it means to her to be someone who's lost a husband and a child.

I really, really like the idea of that scene and what it could tell us about Hannah Shepard. Maybe it will make it into Mezzo, since I imagine the things she hasn't dealt with would hit her like a sledgehammer when Sam comes back. We'll see!

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

considering the state of bullworth (the city), what do you think the state of the country or world is like? do you think bullworth has a unique culture, or is it almost representative of the society outside its perimeters?

i think about what hal esposito said a lot when he and lucky were finding things to watch on the tv. "what? war footage and natural disasters doesn't do it for you?"

considering it is highly likely that the world's condition is very chaotic, how might this affect bullworth and its residents?

hello there!!! ah yes, geography. my beloathed

that's an interesting question of course, yes!! my instinctive thought when first reading this ask was what i always asumed, ie: the news hal and lucky were referring about weren't local but, yknow, american general news. also bc paris from the carnival says something very similar in front of her tv, and we know that the carnival travels, so i wouldn't think of something too different.

however!! let's go by steps there, because thinking about it that's something i never properly expanded upon.

so, first of all: canonically speaking, bullworth is in new england. now, as a non-usamerican, i have very little knowledge of anything about hyperspecific cultures in america, maybe just some west coast zones or south and some midwest.

however!! the fact that there are so many kids of italian certain descent and some other kids with non anglophone last names (kowalski, brakus, luna, karamazov, etc) implies that it is an important destination for migrations. this makes me think of earlly 1900s new york, which would certainly be coherent.

now, a long time ago i found the certain information that bullowrth was supposed to be in new hampshire. however, since i have learned that "trust me bro" is never a good source, i went back to dig some deeper into the whole thing: it still seems to be more or less agreed upon that the state is new hampshire, also because someone noted a striking resemblance of bullworth with the phillips exeter academy. of course maybe it wasn't as explicit and direct as this user puts it, but it is suggestive enough that it would be nice to go with it.

now, first about the culture: we mentioned bullworth being basically a melting pot. this means that it is not only unique, but in fact very diverse, also depending on the zone. for example, i think in new coventry you'll find an especially colorful culture, with people coming from different places and different cultures, everyone holding onto their own but also interacting with their neighbor. you'll find people giving each other giving their best wishes to their neighbor for a festivity they don't even celebrate but know the other does. i mean, maybe you'll have some catholic complaining about the shop being closed just that day, but cue to the stereotypical southern italian wife smacking him behind his head and telling her good friend is home with their family and he mustn't be an annoying jerk (not in so many words, of course).

it is probably quieter the more you get closer to the vale. maybe in town there will be the occasional decoration outside of the house or in a shop, but overall… i'd say that the fundamental sentiment in bullworth is, exactly as the school crest says, canis canem edit. mind your own business and you'll live a hundred years, like an old saying goes. keep a good distance, so they don't hurt you and you don't hurt them.

and in fact, the vale is where this hyperindividualism gets ornated with the hypocrisy of the Good People, some facade to keep so that not only no conflict is created, but any chance and risk of it is perfectly concealed. you have the middle class-bourgeois, christian family who greet their neighbors with a smile and then speculate on all their disgraces as soon as the front door closes. and everything that happens in the family stays in the family, dirty laundry is washed at home.

yeah, overall i'd say. the whole point of bullworth culture is self-sufficiency, it's doing the best of what you have and care thoroughly and not let anyone else touch what's yours.

now, the natural condition of the territory: established that we are on the new hampshire coast, i have tried to dig a bit. i will bring up again something i mentioned earlier: i immediately assumed it was us or global news, but, while it is unfortunately enough to desensitize the general public to military violence, natural forces can be… a bit different.

i will tell a small anecdote about me. i grew up in an extremely seismic area, and by that i mean that we would experience at least a couple waves every some weeks, not strong enough to cause damage but enough to be perceived and do small stuff like making small objects fall off or ceiling lamps shake. and, y'know, it has always been perfectly normal for me, it has happened while i was in class and the worst thing was that i smudged a line on the essay i was writing. but then i moved away for college, and, when in geography we started talking about earthquakes, my professor admitted being scared shitless of seismic waves. my friends got the news of some waves in my native area and asked me how my family was; my mom was like “what do you mean four? i only felt three”

what was that to say? well. in my experience, the general masses are much more moved by natural disasters than by wars. so, in some way, the idea that hal and lucky were at most annoyed by the repetitiveness of the news makes me think that they have some experience with it. earthquakes probably aren't the ones, since, well. plate tectonics. which i will not explain here mostly because i have already passed that exam and i want nothing to do with it ever again LMAO. but anyway the east coast is a very stable area of the earth, so no earthquakes nor volcanoes. and, since it is located tightly in a small gulf, i think sea storms and tidal waves are out of the question too.

however! apparently, tornadoes are not too infrequent in the area, nor, i guess, storms and other similar climate events. as i mentioned before: what happens there is that you get kind of desensitized there; the thought of anything horrible happening isn't there, or, if it is, it barely hits with its full force. “but what if it is stronger next time?” we'll all just die, at least i won't have to worry about rent anymore, maybe my boss will finally kick the bucket too, ha-ha. what do you mean someone died in the next city? well, you know, it can happen.

so yeah, when you ask how it affects the people of bullworth- it probably just amplifies whatever nihilism is already there, y'know. see constantinos, who's most probably clinically depressed, or lefty's “life sucks and then you die”, which is disturbing, especially coming from a kid his age.

i guess it's not the only factor, but it does contribute to this feeling of bullworth just being some lost land, forsaken by god himself left to its own devices. it's like the entirety of the population is... in survival mode, as i tend to say; you just pull through, which should be the bare minimum, but there we are. think of yourself first, then your neighbor, but actually fuck your country, since it has never done a thing for me.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

What do you think about Mina so far?

Well, anon, hehe, I have already read Dracula before (and I will say Mina is in my top three favorite characters — I LOVE HER), *but* let’s pretend I haven’t read it and I‘ll catalogue the traits I’ve noticed about her from the entries we have so far…

From the first letter, I picked up on the fact that she’s hardworking, cares about her fiancé and friend, and has a bit of a silly streak.

“I have been working very hard lately, because I want to keep up with Jonathan's studies, and I have been practising shorthand very assiduously. When we are married I shall be able to be useful to Jonathan, and if I can stenograph well enough I can take down what he wants to say in this way and write it out for him on the typewriter, at which also I am practising very hard.”

“When I am with you I shall keep a diary in the same way. I don't mean one of those two-pages-to-the-week-with-Sunday-squeezed-in-a-corner diaries, but a sort of journal which I can write in whenever I feel inclined.”

“Tell me all the news when you write. You have not told me anything for a long time. I hear rumours, and especially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???”

I can also see her care for Jonathan from his own perspective on the May 5th entry. This passage shows how she is making him more confident in himself.

“Solicitor's clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor—for just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now a full-blown solicitor!”

The next passage from Mina shows me her more carefree and extroverted side. I get to see how she is as a journalist, describing the world around her and how she sees it. From what I can see, she sees the world through an unconventional lens — what others see as creepy, she sees as beautiful.

“The valley is beautifully green, and it is so steep that when you are on the high land on either side you look right across it, unless you are near enough to see down. The houses of the old town—the side away from us—are all red-roofed, and seem piled up one over the other anyhow, like the pictures we see of Nuremberg. Right over the town is the ruin of Whitby Abbey, which was sacked by the Danes, and which is the scene of part of "Marmion," where the girl was built up in the wall. It is a most noble ruin, of immense size, and full of beautiful and romantic bits; there is a legend that a white lady is seen in one of the windows.”

“Between it and the town there is another church, the parish one, round which is a big graveyard, all full of tombstones. This is to my mind the nicest spot in Whitby, for it lies right over the town, and has a full view of the harbour and all up the bay to where the headland called Kettleness stretches out into the sea.”

“They have a legend here that when a ship is lost bells are heard out at sea. I must ask the old man about this; he is coming this way....”

“I thought he would be a good person to learn interesting things from, so I asked him if he would mind telling me something about the whale-fishing in the old days.”

Then, July 26 happens and Mina opens up in a new way. She is anxious, yes, but everyone gets that way from time to time. What I really get from this is how good of a friend she is to Lucy, sympathizing with her worries about Arthur and planning for a marriage, not to mention the sleepwalking. She also has some kind words about Mr. Hawkins.

“I had not heard from Jonathan for some time, and was very concerned; but yesterday dear Mr. Hawkins, who is always so kind, sent me a letter from him.”

“Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her old habit of walking in her sleep. Her mother has spoken to me about it, and we have decided that I am to lock the door of our room every night.”

“Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and she is already planning out her dresses and how her house is to be arranged. I sympathise with her, for I do the same, only Jonathan and I will start in life in a very simple way, and shall have to try to make both ends meet.”

“Mr. Holmwood—he is the Hon. Arthur Holmwood, only son of Lord Godalming—is coming up here very shortly—as soon as he can leave town, for his father is not very well, and I think dear Lucy is counting the moments till he comes.”

There’s even more evidence of this in the next entry! She’s selfless in her concerns about Lucy’s health

“Lucy walks more than ever, and each night I am awakened by her moving about the room. Fortunately, the weather is so hot that she cannot get cold; but still the anxiety and the perpetually being wakened is beginning to tell on me, and I am getting nervous and wakeful myself. Thank God, Lucy's health keeps up.”

“Lucy frets at the postponement of seeing him, but it does not touch her looks; she is a trifle stouter, and her cheeks are a lovely rose-pink. She has lost that anæmic look which she had. I pray it will all last.”

So, if I’m judging all of this from the perspective of a first-time reader, so far she is a multi-faceted character. I have gotten to see her carefree and fun side, as well as her compassionate and anxious side. She’s well-rounded and hardworking. She’s selfless and bold.

There are more entries I could reference, but I believe they all come to the same conclusions I’ve made.

In conclusion…I love her!!! <3333 thanks for asking, anon :))))