#the worst part is also the best par

[riaki]

dog treats (for humans) | yuuji itadori x reader

pt.5 of christmas event! vry short sorry, a day late but it works as fluff for the jjk ep today !?

"[name], look! i baked something!"

your immediate thoughts are something along the lines of oh, no.

yuuji's a decent cook. or at least, that's what you like to believe; hours of the two of you making messes in your kitchen after ruining the recipe book you were following prove otherwise. still, he's not half bad. and there was that one time he taught his roommate to make meatballs; something vague like 'a legacy of hotpot meatballs'. that's your boyfriend for you.

baking, though, is certainly not his forte. as demonstrated by the giant blob of half-baked somethings on the tray; an amalgamation of dough stuck to the wax paper.

you're not quite sure what you're looking at when you enter the kitchen of your apartment; it's an absolute mess. there's flour everywhere, and some strange looking leftover dough sitting in a clump on the counter. it smells a bit weird, but that's not new. what draws your attention the most other than the flour coating the polaroids on the fridge or the four spatulas on the counter is the mess on his person.

he's coated in flour. there's dough sticking to his cheeks, almost like whiskers on his face— but that does nothing to dampen the sunny grin on his lips. his hair is ruffled, clumps of flour and powdered sugar clinging to the tips. you can just picture him mussing his hair in frustration, fingers running through the soft pink strands, the color of grapefruit and strawberry lemonade on a midsummer evening.

"what exactly did you make?" you asked, glancing him up and down. he's wearing the holiday apron you bought him on a whim; it's so dirty that you don't even recognize the pattern of the golden retriever stitched to the front. it looks more like a lima bean now.

he grins, pushing the baking tray towards you as if you're supposed to come to some grand realization of what exactly he did make.

"i made dog treats! for fushiguro. you think he'll like 'em?"

"those are dog treats...?"

you certainly wouldn't've been able to tell from first sight. but that explains the peculiar smell; it must've been a product of whatever he was doing.

"yeah! aren't they great?" he laughs, full of mirth, and you catch his smile on your own lips. his enthusiasm is infectious.

"they seem more like regular cookies." you note, observing the mess on the tray. the edges are burnt a gentle caramel crisp; if you didn't know better, you would've definitely taken the initiative to make cute cookies with your cookie cutters and frost them however you like.

you're too lost in your thoughts to notice what he's doing until it's too late— your stupidly beloved boyfriend has broken off a chunk and taken an equal sized bite out of it, chewing with all the thoughtfulness of a michelin star chef. there's a few crumbs in the corner of his mouth, and if not for the contents he probably would've asked you to wipe some jam on his lips and treat yourself to a sweet treat on his cheeks.

"yuuji!" you reach out, snatching the tray from him and setting it down before you scowl out the cheeky look on his full cheeks. "spit it out." you demanded, and you're faintly reminded that it's probably fine for him to be eating them because he's acting like a puppy anyway.

he just grins at you through a mouthful, shaking his head vigorously and swallowing as he pumps his fists, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. "'s great! you shbould try ib, bwabe."

you just roll your eyes (albeit fondly), reluctantly reaching over to the tray to break off a chunk of the dog treats(?). you give it a good feel and sniff before nibbling off a piece, trying to discern the taste in your mouth. you're starting to think that yuuji might've mistakenly made regular cookies and called them dog treats. there was no sign of raw meat or anything on the counters, which only strengthened your suspicions.

"hey, it's actually not that bad." you marveled, glancing up at him again. he's watching you expectantly, waiting like a little puppy for your response. his eyes light up like stars; far too excited for such a weak answer as yours, but his enthusiasm shines through either way.

"right? i was thinking, maybe we could keep them to ourselves..."

"don't get carried away, yuu." you sighed, shaking your head. but he just grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to press an insistent smooch to your lips.

he laughs, sending vibrations through your skin as he peppers your face with floury eskimo kisses. "you'd rather me gift him these things? he'd sic his dogs on me!"

"...maybe you're right. let's just keep them, then."

my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[lylian333]

~Yandere emperor x reader~

warning: read at your own risk, traumatizing, dark historical shits, noncon, force, many misunderstandings,sexual harrest , angst ,age gap, everything here is quite insane, historical au, he's fucking crazy, killing, insults, English is not my first langue(if there's any warning I didn't put, tell me)

words:2180

(this is not my art I found it on Pinterest, and in the comment section it's said that it was made by AI so💀)

~~

Princess (y/n) Laurier has been best friends with Princess Alyssa Everett since you both were just 6 years old. You both have many things in common, such as interests, opinions, and much more.

You both would usually hang out around each other's kingdom; you don't have any issues with her except with her father, Emperor Edward Everett. He was the hottest, most handsome man you have ever met, and you still do now.

You have had a huge crush on him that felt like butterflies inside your stomach since the day you met him, but he always has that emotionless face and rarely smiles unless at his wife, your best friend's mother. You know this from Princess Alyssa; she would complain about how cold and serious he is.

You still ignore those and try getting to know him, but he just looks annoyed or just straight-up ignores you, but you ignore it and still continue liking him. Not only that, you're not the only one; it's obvious that everyone that has met him, females and even males, all drool for him.

You still have some sense in you, and you also have to respect the Everett queen and Princess Alyssa since she is your best friend. You can't just let some love ruin the relationship you both had. You can't. She is like a sister to you. She helps you when you're confused; she protects and defends you when you were getting laughed at; she is there when you needed someone the most. It's not worth losing a relationship like this, and so your liking toward his father slowly dies down.

But things change when you grow up and start having features and curves and in the end, you become a gorgeous woman, many people are jealous of you even Princess Alyssa confesses to you about it and some desperately want you. You reject all of them since none of them are worthy of you, and you're disinterested in them.

Your intense gaze and soft complexion, with your structured face and striking presence, are on par with an iconic beauty, paired with the warmth and softness in your expression, which are very delicate. You would struggle to not look at yourself when there is a mirror.

You still have some feelings toward Emperor Edward, but you manage to hide it and be able to not think about him when talking to him.

The worst thing that could have happened was that the Queen of Everett died from childbirth while trying to give birth to the heir to the throne, but it went to a disaster. It was devastating news to hear from everyone.

The emperor was absolutely devastated and even despised the child. From that moment on he would never talk to anyone unless it was part of a duty, but other than that he would ignore the servant's advisers and even his own kids, which left Princess Alyssa depressed since she had to bear her mother's death, her father's coldness, and the baby boy that her mother lost her life to.

That week she came crying to you when you came to visit her and attended the funeral of the Everett Queen death. You decide to stay at Everett Palace for a few months before going back to Laurier Kingdom.

You promised Princess Alyssa that you'd take care of her and her baby brother, and so you did. After all, back at your kingdom and your family, you have 6 siblings, plus you, and you are the third eldest, which makes you the middle You have experience with babies after the experience of you sibling that you swear are more naughtyer when you take care of them.

In those months of staying, Emperor noticed that you had to take care of the baby boy and Princess Alyass when he found you singing a lullaby for them to fall asleep.

At that moment something in him awoke, something dark, horrible, and disgusting. He knew this was wrong, but who was there to stop him? Not even himself could do that.

From that moment on, he would try getting close to you and getting to know you better; by that, he would call you into his office or into his chamber. When talking, he would get close to you, too close, to the point that he's invading your personal space by burying his face in your hair, breathing in that sweet, gentle scent, or sucking and biting your earlobe.

You knew this was wrong. You both knew this was wrong, but you guys still continued. Your brain keeps telling you to stop and that this is your best friend's father, but your gut tells you to continue. For your best friend Princess Alyssa's sake.

At one of those meetings, you confess to him that you don't want to continue these "meetings" to respect your best friend Alyssa and her baby brother Prince James.

But when he hears that you swear you could feel the air getting tense and his face looks tense as well, and with clenched fists, he looks like he could kill someone that might have been you or others.

He then pushes you onto his office desk and forcefully rips your clothes off. All you can remember that day was just horror, pure fucking horror. It haunts your dreams, memories, and everything that you see that can somehow be related to the day you and he were together.

The cherry on top is Emperor Endward sends an arranged marriage to your kingdom between you both; you pray that your parents would reject this offer, but no. Instead, they accept it and send you a letter telling you the reasons that this could help our kingdom very much and this could give you a better future and more, but all you care about is that you're trapped with him. They also added in that they would be unable to see because of the distance of the two kingdoms and that it is time to set you free.

Oh, how you wish it were true to let you spread your wings and have your own freedom.

You hated everything, mostly yourself. You hated yourself for not being more alert and not telling anyone, not even your own family or close ones; you—you can't even describe the feeling that you're feeling at that point. You quite literally were disgusted by yourself.

You cry all day long to the point where Princess Alyssa hears it and finds you, and you vomit out all the things that happened while still crying. You wish the earth could just eat you whole, make you disappear from the earth, from this world, from this life.

You keep pressuring yourself that this is your fault for days till your hair has a few strands of white hair that you have noticed.

The wedding was within the week, and you both got married and wed. That very day and night of the "honeymoon," he slams you against the bed carelessly and forcibly spears open your legs with his hand while another pins both your head on top of your head.

You whisper near your ear,True to be told, I have actually noticed that since you were just a little girl, you always had a crush on me, so technically you wanted this to happen, so don't cry like last time, dear."

Your eyes go wide when you hear that he actually noticed. He knows that you have no words—absolutely no words.

That night was as horrible and traumatizing as the night you both had together. Princess Alyssa personally tries to help you escape; even after the marriage, she still supports you, even knowing the fact you are technically her stepmother.

But she accepted you, and you were quite stunned at how she handled the situation. Even though it was like hell, she still helped, whether by holding you while you were crying or whatever she was still there. It felt like she was starting to take care of you instead of you taking care of her like how you first promised.

In one of the many attempts of you trying to escape and her helping you with it, you both were caught, and Emperor Edward decided to punish you by isolating you and sentencing Princess Alyssa to be beheaded, his own daughter.

And you were forbidden to give her any visits after the situation. You didn't get the chance to even give her the last hug or talk or anything, not even a goodbye. You even threatened to kill yourself if he didn't allow you to see her, but he just laughs at you and tells the guards to throw you inside a dungeon where there's nothing, not even a window, so you have to rely on the fire outside.

Just like that, she's gone forever. You cry for days and refuse to eat, sleep, or even drink. The king himself has to personally force-feed you so that you don't die. You even scream and beat him as hard as you can in rage whenever you see him, but he just stands there, not unbothered. You might as well think that he doesn't even care or feel anything anymore, no remorse, no nothing, just disgusting lovesick eyes looking at you.

"I just can't get enough of you, love~"

Your life goes on until you have had enough, like enough one more year of this. You seriously don't think you want to be reincarnated into another life. You desperately want to feel things instead of being trapped in the shared chamber all day long, only allowed to go out to the garden for 1 hour to get fresh air with a few ladies in waiting and your own trusted servants near you to keep being aware of you and make sure you're not doing anything harmful to yourself or escaping.

You came up with the stupidest and most shameful idea. You decide to frame yourself for cheating on Emperor Edward and confess to him that you cheated. Making up fake clues for others to notice and gossip about, but the emperor refuses to believe it, so you told him personally.

"I cheated on you, Edward."

"You must be joking, dear. How would you even be able to do that, hm?"

but you just keep repeating the sentence, "I cheated on you."

This makes him overthink and triggers him, and he ends up struggling with you to death in the process. You still keep repeating the sentence, which forces him to grip your neck even harder till you are no longer breathing—not even a single movement, just soulless eyes staring straight.

When he realized that it was too late and there was no turning back, he let go of your neck, and you collapsed onto the ground, dead. He kneeled down next to you; finally, at this moment, he felt guilty for everything. He reflected on the things he had done to you, the amount of damage. Why didn't he think about this earlier? Maybe that could help him.

No, it's your fault for cheating on him. How dare you filthy women cheat on an emperor that has done everything for her sake? To this day he still blames you, but part of him does regret not caring what you felt and thought. He only treated you like a toy, a glass doll that would easily be broken. But he just couldn't help but love you with all his might, even if it meant hurting you.

He tried to keep your body from decomposing and rotting and would soak you in water to slow down the decomposing. He even went mad and brought you to the throne room for events, dressed you properly, stuffed you with cotton to keep you looking more alive, and said to others, "My wife is doing well; look at her, she's such a sleepy head; look at her sleeping, hehe…"

Sadly, eventually, he had no other choice but to finally bury you because your body was decomposing and smelling really bad. At the funeral, he gives a speech on how she was in his life and how he can't believe she died before him from 'sickness' and oh how sad he was and how he saw her glowing up into an elegant woman and more.

Prince James also gave a speech about how you try helping out, that he always sees her as a mother figure, and how (y/n) has always tried her best. He was innocent in all of these; as well, he even balled his eyes out when he found out that you died.

At the very last moment of seeing your face, he cupped your cheek one last time.

"Oh, how much I will miss you oh how I wish that I could go with you as well, but it's fine you don't need to worry love In my will, when I die, I'm going to be buried right next to you." He says that while chuckling while feeling remorse.

~~

omg, there are so many things I want to comment on but erm yeah this is how it is??? it could have been worse

[miraclemaya]

So I haven't played disco Elysium so I'm not quite sure how the skills work, but I feel like it says something about Homura that she has a specific skill for dealing with Walpurgis Naugt--the most dangerous witch of all time--and a specific skill for Tea with Mami-san. Something about the idea that Homura is so fraught with issues that having tea with her friends (who worry about her and want to make sure she's ok) is on par with a witch who literally destroys cities.

you should definitely play disco elysium it's the game with the best written prose of any game to exist and also my favorite game of all time

but yes! in disco elysium, there are a few skills that seem to work on more esoteric and almost magical level then like the more normal skills like drama or visual calculus. inland empire in particular is the one that WITCH'S NIGHT is based on, which is basically a skill about hunches and dreams in waking life. inland empire can tell you some insane stuff that turns out to be true but it's never like straightforward about it. obviously the post is set in a world where homura beat walpurgis, so WITCH'S NIGHT is basically in retirement, but i would think in a more normal time loop scenario it's the skill that she uses to like understand the stage that the stage making witch is creating. not quite the same as like figuring out what's different this loop, but rather more like narratively what is the story of this loop. and since walpy is the one making the story, the skill is about figuring walpy out.

TEA WITH MAMI-SAN is supposed to be a little bit more board then it sounds like. it's actually set up as a opposite pair with THE CRAVEN MASSES. TEA WITH MAMI-SAN is basically the part of homura that truly does appreciate and care for the rest of the holy quintet. it's the one that remembers what Mami's favourite tea is, it's the one that makes sure to bring Kyoko food, it's the one that sees benefit in Sayaka's goal of heroism. It's the skill that helps Homura have friends basically. THE CRAVEN MASSES is the exact opposite. it's the part of homura that reminds her of their worst. Mami is a fool, unable to handle the reality of the world without shattering, Kyoko is an opportunist and a coward, Sayaka is a worth more as a corpse then as a person. It's the skill she uses to both predict the worse actions the quintet might make in a loop, and also the skill she uses to justify their execution if needs be.

as you can probably tell i put a lot of thought into all the skills dhdhdh sorry if this was a bit much, im glad you enjoyed the post

[grandlinedreams]

Hello, I've been reading Ur fics lately (esp with law) and I love them

I was wondering if you could make angst? Like... Let's say there's this big battle, like the one in wano, where reader and law gets separated, but after the battle Law finds reader unconscious and being treated by chopper who then explains they had severe wounds and might need blood transfusion.

It also just happens that he was gonna confess to them after all of the chaos so that they'd be safe in his arms. And that might not even happen since now they have each foot on both worlds.

I'd imagine Law going along with talking to them even if they're unconscious just to keep them here in the living. (If they're alone ofc)

I hope that's alright

OUGH some angst my beloved,,,i can absolutely do that, I hope I do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: angst, serious injuries, some brief medical talk, hurt/very little comfort, keeping in line w Law literally calling none of the Strawhats by their names, open-ended]

Truth be told, Law doesn't keep much of an eye on you during battles. It's hard enough keeping an eye on what the enemy is doing ㅡ especially if the Strawhats are involved. They ㅡ especially their captain ㅡ have a knack for blowing careful plans out of the water and he's forced to play damage control until it's over.

You're also fully capable of looking after yourself, and he trusts you and your skillset. So when he doesn't immediately find you once things have started settling down, he doesn't think much of it.

When five minutes turns to ten, then to fifteen, then half an hour, however, alarm bells start going off in his head. You've never taken this long to check in with him. Has something happened? Have you beenㅡ

No, he won't let himself think of that option. Not now, not ever. So he keeps as optimistic as reality will allow him ㅡ until he hears his name being called.

"Oi, Law!"

It's Sanji. "What is it, Blackleg?"

The blond's expression is his first warning that whatever it is, it isn't pleasant. "Chopper told me to come get you."

That's his second warning. Eyes narrowing and trying to rifle through potential scenarios from best case to worst, he follows Sanji silently until they reach where Chopper is ㅡ and Law stares at who the little reindeer is desperately trying to patch up.

It's you.

Part of him whispers harshly that this is par for the course, that he's worn out his luck in terms of keeping you safe ㅡ another notes that he's never seen you look more fragile.

"What happened." It's a demand as he takes in the bandages all over you, trying not to think about how most of them are already soaked with blood. Your blood.

He barely hears the explanation above the rising ringing in his ears, but he gathers enough to find it in himself to mentally curse your perchance for heroics. He's told you time and time again that your self-sacrificing attitude will get you into trouble, and now it has. (As if he isn't guilty of it too from time to time, but that's neither here nor there.)

"They need a transfusion," he says, kneels to gather you into his arms, trying not to focus on how limp you are. "I'll take it from here."

If Chopper protests, he doesn't stick around long enough to hear it. From the second he sets foot back on the Polar Tang, it's a blur.

Bandages are stripped from you and replaced, an IV of fluid in one arm, blood in the other. One of the defaults to joining the crew is letting him know blood type so he has it on hand, and he's never been more grateful to have it and less so that he needs to use it.

For the next few hours, Law hardly blinks, barely lets himself breathe ㅡ afraid that somewhere between, you'll slip from him. He can feel the cold circle of death around you, measuring, evaluating. Deciding if you go, or if you stay.

He wants you to stay. If there were ever a way to guarantee that you do, he'd do it now ㅡ but there isn't. So he sits, counts your breath (in, out. Up, down.), and waits.

And he talks.

He tells you that you're a pain, that you need to stop thinking so much of others before yourself, that a quality like that is only admirable until it means a grave instead of life. That you shouldn't be so cavalier with your time, that there are people who care about you, and what are they supposed to do if you die?

He means himself in that too. He's gotten accustomed to your presence, the way you've slotted your way into his routines and habits like you belong, and perhaps, were he a romantic, he'd say you always have. But he hardly has time for that, barely lets himself entertain it ㅡ too soft, too ideal, too good to be true. Always too much of something.

But he wants it, wants you ㅡ wonders if he'll even get the slimmest chance to tell you now. Law could tell you now, but he doesn't. He's afraid if he does, it'll tip the scales further from his favor and he'll undoubtedly lose you.

He can't do that.

It isn't fair ㅡ but when has the world ever felt fit to treat him in a way that could ever be seen as kind enough to be called fair?

[addisonnie]

hinge and uhaul

summary: college!au. when all else fails…one must look for love on hinge!

an: hi! back from hiatus and of course it would be for a clump of pixels because i am down astronomically bad! this is the first part of a possible series! so let me know if a part 2 is warranted.

warnings: cursing, reader has 0 rizz shes literally a mess, reader also rambles and lots of this is just her inner dialogue because why not. also not very edited and possible tense shifts because im the worst!

part 2 ———————————

Tinder is a soul-sucking vortex. 

A nightmarish flurry of shirtless mirror selfies, conservatives, and men that look like they’d hit on your mom after walking you to the door. Switching your profile settings from ‘men’ to ‘everyone’ seemed like the best option; It wasn’t. The best option would’ve been to delete your account and light your phone on fire after receiving the fourth “you send?” message in a row.

Hinge is a smaller soul-sucking vortex. At least you can deny their comments before you embarrass yourself by matching with a douche like that. Your account is set to ‘show me everyone’ and you can only hope that ‘everyone’ includes at least some good ones. Swiping and clicking on dating apps seems to be more of a game than it is actual match-making, a time-passer of sorts. 

Your roommate, Dina, huffs loudly from her lofted bed across the room, “would you get your sorry ass off of that app? It’s sad listening to you moan and groan about all the losers!”

You roll your eyes, “my soulmate could be the next person!”

No. No. No, again. Oooh…yes? 

You swipe through the girl’s page before deciding not to match with her, because who’s Hinge bio states that they’re still in love with their ex? Dina cheers while you huff and slam your phone onto your desk, spinning idly in your chair. The television on top of Dina’s purple mini fridge is playing a random episode of Bob’s Burgers and, for a moment, you forget about your ever-growing dating app addiction.

It’s not that you’re addicted per say. You just spend most of your downtime sitting in your bed and judging people’s profiles, when yours surely isn’t up to par either. Hey, at least you don’t have a picture of you holding a fish.

The rhythmic buzz of your phone quickly draws your eyes away from the cartoon on screen, your hand dramatically reaching for your phone.

Hinge: Ellie liked you! Tap to see the comment she left.

Ellie. That’s a cute name…fairly normal too! Surely she didn’t leave some weirdo comment about how your hair looks like it smells good. Your fingers fumble to tap on the notification and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you click on Ellie’s like.

She left her comment under a picture of you taken at a local museum. A big cheesy grin is painted across your face and there’s skeletal remains of some random dinosaur behind you, Dina is crouched under the jaw of the creature pretending to scream while she gets eaten. Hopefully this isn’t one of those situations where Ellie asks ‘if your friend is single.’

Nope. She left a simple comment. I love dinosaurs!!!

You smile as you quickly click on Ellie’s profile to see her. There are a couple pictures of her, and good god is she hot. Flushed, you quickly match with her.

But what do you say? This is life or death. You need this woman. 

Hey!

You’re hot

Do you want to have vicious lesbian sex with me?

Okay. Jesus, you are not good at this. While you mull over the keyboard attempting to decide what to say to the ever-attractive Ellie, another message comes in.

Hey, pretty girl!

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your fingers are fumbling over the keyboard, your heart is beating, you’re planning you and Ellie’s wedding. You wonder if she likes lace or prefers the classic look?

Hey! What’s up?

Nothing really. Just playing some guitar!

Guitar? She just gets hotter. Did she also save puppies from a burning building? You wonder if she would want roses at the wedding. Hopefully not, too basic.

Ooooh guitar you say? Whatcha playing?

It’s a few moments before she responds and you’re biting the nail on your thumb awaiting her reply.

Whatever your favorite song is.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you smile and rest your head in your hand. 

Why don’t I tell you that over dinner?

It takes Ellie a few minutes to respond this time and you’re sure you’ve managed to scare her off at the mention of an actual date. Her reply comes just as you go to turn your phone off,

How about you give me your number and we can talk more about this date?

————

Giving your number to Ellie was perhaps the best decision made in your life thus far. She constantly sends text messages of whatever she’s doing, wearing, eating, or strumming on her guitar. It’s been about a week since you first exchanged information and you’re slightly worried that Ellie no longer wishes to go out on a date. You’ve tried to ‘accidentally’ bump into her on campus multiple times, but she manages to just barely slip away each time. 

You’re sitting at your desk attempting to finish an essay when your phone rings in your lap. Ellie’s contact appears lit up on the screen and you just about scream when you grasp the phone between your fingers.

“Hello?” You’re already blushing.

“Hey, you! What’re you up to?” Ellie’s voice is loud into the microphone and you can make out multiple different voices on her end of the line.

“Nothing important,” you close your computer quickly, “why, what’s up?”

She takes a moment to answer as you hear her yell something to whoever else is in the room with her, “me and some friends are at a bar…will you come? Live music and stuff. Plus, I still haven’t taken you on that date!”

“Yes!” Okay, you probably should’ve tried to sound less excited. “Ehem…yes. Text me the address?”

You hear Ellie laugh before she happily responds, “will do! Text me when you get here and I’ll come out front to meet you.”

—————

Dina and her friends surely shop at Hookers R Us because where else would anybody find a skirt so goddamn short. 

“D. Dina. My cheeks are hanging out the bottom.” Dina rolls her eyes and tugs on the hem of the mini denim skirt.

“Well if you wore it down here,” she tugs the denim again, “instead of up to your tits like a grandma would…maybe it would be longer.”

Several shirts are thrown toward your perch on Dina’s desk chair, “what’s wrong with the shirt I have on?”

Dina’s boyfriend. Jesse, interjects, “because I don’t like it.”

“Okay, fashion police. How about this one?” You hold up a form fitting black top and Dina nods vigorously, “yes. But no bra. Show off them ladies!”

————

The Uber barely comes to a full stop as you clamber out of the backseat. Grasping for your phone, you text Ellie.

Here! :)

Was the smiley face overkill? Too much?

Cominh!!!!!

*Coming. Not drunk, I swear.

You think you’re the one doing the coming as you watch Ellie stroll towards you in the parking lot. If she was hot on Hinge, she’s ten-thousand times hotter in the dingy lighting that casts a magical glow upon her. She’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a white wife-beater, an old worn out flannel is unbuttoned over the top and rolled up just above her elbows. Her raggedy jeans are cuffed to the top of her converse and— wow is she a walking wet dream.

“Hey! I’m glad you came.” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she pulls you straight in for a hug, her calloused hands resting on your hips. You feel her finger tips touching the uncovered skin below your top, the contact makes you shiver.

Ellie squeezes you a little tighter before pulling away, leaving her arm draped over your shoulder, “c’mon, warmer inside.”

You let her lead you into the bar and through the slight crowd congregated near the entrance. A small group of people stand huddled next to the bar and Ellie leads you straight to them as she leans down to speak in your ear, “those are my friends.”

You nod and shamelessly nudge your body to be tucked further into her side, blushing profusely when you feel her arm tighten around your shoulders.

“Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about! And these are my friends I mentioned on the phone.” Ellie smiles while she introduces you to everyone and as much as you enjoy the domesticity of hanging out with her friends, you much prefer the nook you’ve found nestled under Ellie’s toned arm.

———

Her face leans down by your ear again, “wanna drink? I’ll get you one.”

You smile up at her, “would you shoot me if I said I want an espresso martini instead of the beer you’ve been nursing all night?”

She giggles into your ear and her breath fans across your face, “one espresso martini, coming up!” 

She pulls away and salutes you before turning around and marching to the other end of the bar, waving her arm to grab the bartender’s attention.

“So you’re the lucky lady? I’m Abby, Ellie’s friend.” Damn, she is buff as hell. Her toned arm stretches across a barstool to shake your hand.

You stare at her open palm, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that. Who still shakes hands? I’m done drinking for the night.”

She cracks a smile when you laugh and shake her hand anyways, “nothing wrong with a good ol’ handshake.”

You speak with Abby while you wait for Ellie to return with your martini. She’s leaning up against the wood and speaking to the bartender as he pours the concoction into a glass. How she manages to look so appealing at all times is an enigma. Her short hair is pulled half-up into a bun while the rest barely skims the top of her shoulders, the botanical tattoo on her forearm sticks out from under her rolled-up sleeve and—fuck. You’re drooling.

Double-fuck. She caught you staring.

You blush when she throws a wink your way, turning back toward the bar to grab your drink. 

And then she’s in front of you once more, “malady.”

She slides in between your legs while you sit atop the cushioned barstool (which you’re pretty sure makes a fart noise any time you move) and rests both of her hands on your hips.

Lifting the drink to your mouth, you hum happily when the flavor covers your tongue, “good?”

“Really good. Superb.” Ellie chuckles and leans in toward you, placing a kiss in the hollow of your collarbone, “c’mon, there’s some more people I want you to meet.”

————

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this position but good god do you wish you could die right here and right now. Ellie is leaning up against the poster-covered wall of the bar with you pulled tightly to her chest. Your back is pressed against her front and one of her arms is wrapped around you, long fingers splayed across your lower stomach. She’s talking animatedly to the guy standing in front of you two and in all honestly you can’t focus on what they’re talking about while you feel the tips of Ellie’s fingers rest upon the skin under your skirt. 

It’s innocent. She doesn’t realize her fingers have traveled just south of the top of your skirt, but you’d be lying if you said the feeling of her calloused fingertips below the belt didn’t make you squirm. Her auburn hair tickles the side of your face as your head rests back in the crook between her neck and shoulder. And even better—her cheek presses to the top of your head when there’s a lull in her current conversation.

Hearing the man she was speaking to bid his goodbyes, you turn in her arms. The one that was previously grasping a beer bottle quickly swaps to rest in the back pocket of your skirt instead, her other hand squeezes your hip.

“Hi.” She smiles at you.

“Hi.” You press a kiss to her cheek.

The feeling leaves Ellie warm and she squeezes you a few times before ultimately deciding to cut to the chase and lean in. It’s a sweet peck, a little tipsy kiss that leaves you buzzing and floating outside of your body. The bright, crooked smile she gives you after pulling away punches the air from your lungs and Jesus Christ— now you understand the U-Haul lesbians because in this moment you are well and truly fucked. If this woman, this stranger, asked you to pack your shit and move in, you would.

And the look she gives you as she brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear tells you she might just feel the same.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

The Copollogism Essays - Part 1: The Tent Scene

SO. Here we are. I have absolutely ascended to insane over two fictional characters' relationship by this point, and this will merely cement that into place.

I do not know how often I will update this, but rest assured I have it all figured out! I'll update with links below for easy access to the other posts as I analyze our favorite dumpsterfire ship >:3

Believe me when I say I have Thoughts™️

These essays will detail the scenes Apollo & Commodus have shared, as well as a look into how it affected them and we'll also take a look into where it stands in the toxic relationship territory (The answer may surprise you. Or not. I am not quite sure myself at this point in time LMAO).

Additionally, I will be giving my own thoughts on a few things I've noticed within the series. I will refrain from talking about my own personal headcanons and focus on what we're given in the books, as well as any and all historical facts from Commodus's life that relate to their lives/relationship.

From The Book: Part 1 (The Tent) ~ Part 2 (The Assassination) ~ Part 3 (Lester's Reaction) ~ Part 4 (Leo's Questions/Seeing Commodus Again) ~ Part 5 (The Arena) ~ Part 6 (The Waystation) ~ Part 7 (The Yacht) ~ Part 8 (The Final Moment)

Analysis: Part 1 (Apollo and Commodus as Individuals) ~ Part 2 (Toxic Relationship?) ~ Part 3 (Codependent - Or Is It?) ~ Part 4 (Other Thoughts)

Let us kick off with the infamous: Tent Scene.

The Tent Scene

All quotations from The Dark Prophecy

Let's break it down.

I could certainly sympathize with his feelings. Marcus Aurelius was the sternest, most powerful father in the world aside from my own father, Zeus. Both loved to lecture. Both loved to remind their offspring how lucky they were, how privileged, how far short they fell of their fathers’ expectations. And of course, both had gorgeous, talented, tragically underappreciated sons.

How their fathers treat them is certainly a focal point of their relationship, with Apollo knowing enough about Commodus's feelings on Marcus Aurelius to be willing to compare it to his own relationship with Zeus (which is...honestly worse than Commodus & Marcus's).

“My father made me his junior co-emperor when I was fifteen, Apollo. It’s stifling. All duty, all the time. Then he married me off to that horrid girl Bruttia Crispina. Who names their child Bruttia?”

We're told that Commodus has been co-emperor since he was 15 - certainly a young age by modern standards, but rather par for the course in Roman times. However, that does not mean the pressure of being co-emperor wouldn't be a lot on 15-18 year old Commodus.

He is a teenager, after all. And he is a teenager that is rather abhorred to responsibility.

I didn’t mean to laugh at the expense of his distant wife…but part of me was pleased when he talked badly about her. I wanted all his attention for myself.

Oh, Apollo sweetie...you have issues too XD

Wanting to keep your lover's attention to yourself? Yeah, sorry Apollo, but that's not a good sign. This just goes to show that they are both toxic influences, and they brought out the worst in each other.

“I’ll make peace with the barbarians,” he said immediately. “Then we’ll go home and celebrate with games. The best games, all the time. I’ll gather the most exotic animals in the world. I’ll fight them personally in the Colosseum—tigers, elephants, ostriches.” I laughed at that. “Ostriches? Have you ever even seen an ostrich?” “Oh, yes.” He got a wistful look in his eyes. “Amazing creatures. If you trained them to fight, perhaps designed some sort of armor for them, they would be incredible.” “You’re a handsome idiot.” I threw another grape, which bounced off his forehead. A brief flash of anger washed over his face.

Leaving this here for future reference but we WILL be coming back to it!!!! In a future post!!!!

I knew my sweet Commodus could have an ugly temper. He was a little too fond of slaughter. But what did I care? I was a god. I could speak to him in ways no one else dared.

Apollo is the ONE PERSON who is able to challenge Commodus. And from the previous passage, we can infer Commodus is not used to it, even though he is well aware Apollo is the one with all the power in this relationship - although, he sure does like forgetting about that detail a lot lmao

Commodus looked at me, panic in his eyes. “Go,” I said, as calmly as I could, forcing down my misgivings. “You will always have my blessings. You will do fine.”

A sweet thing I find in this section is; 1) Commodus looks to Apollo for comfort, for some sort of it will be fine; and 2) that Apollo is encouraging despite his misgivings. Apollo is aware what kind of leader Commodus could be. He knows there is a high chance of his lover becoming a worse version of himself.

In fact, he even admits it;

But I already suspected what would happen: the young man I knew and loved was about to be consumed by the emperor he would become.

But he tries to go the you have my support, you have my love route. Romantic, but ultimately, it's not enough to keep Commodus from the path he goes down.

into the mouth of the wolf, Apollo says. Because this is the last time he truly sees the man he loved.

The next time they meet? It will be a crazed, paranoid tyrant he has to end - and in doing so, breaks the promise he once made.

He rose and kissed me one last time. His breath smelled of grapes. Then he left the tent—walking, as the Romans would say, into the mouth of the wolf.

This whole, entire scene? It's drenched in a tragic aura. It starts out light and teasing, but it ends with this.

This is their final kiss. This is the final time they get to see each other without the barrier of betrayal between them.

And that, is truly heartbreaking.

[rottenpumpkin13]

It’s time to upgrade the vehicle choice to the company helicopters. AGSZC and the Turks + Rufus, who is the best, the worst, and the one who can fly it but can’t land it.

• Sephiroth is an excellent pilot, probably the most competent you'll find. He learned to fly helicopters when he was very young, has a knack for handling even the toughest situations, and his composure and precise maneuvers make him the go-to pilot in any crisis.

*Sephiroth is flying the helicopter*

Lazard: You're going a little too fast.

Sephiroth: Have you ever considered crashing a helicopter, faking your own death, and then living on a deserted island with stray cats until you can repurpose the helicopter’s parts to build a weapon for exacting revenge on your enemies?

Lazard: NO?

• Genesis boasts that he's the best pilot around and can indeed fly fairly well. But he requires intense focus and hates any distractions. He will snap at anyone who tries to talk to him while he's flying. ....scratch that, it depends on the topic.

*In the helicopter, Angeal sneezes*

Genesis: DON'T TALK TO ME! I WILL FLY US INTO THE FUCKING SUN I SWEAR TO THE GODDESS! THEY WILL BE FINDING VESTIGES OF OUR CORPSES FOR YEARS! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?

Angeal: I think you should scream less.

*Genesis abandons the control*

Genesis: Did you just say loveless? Because I was thinking about the beauty of 'world's end' in act one, and—

Angeal: WE'RE FALLING

• It's a mystery how Angeal passed the pilot test, and even he's baffled why they keep entrusting him with the helicopter. He wishes they'd stop assigning him flying duties.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter*

Angeal: Are you sure I should be flying this thing?

Sephiroth: Of course. You're the responsible one.

*Angeal is flying the helicopter in circles*

Sephiroth: I trust you to land this helicopter responsibly.

*Angeal misses the helipad completely and is now doing zig zags*

Sephiroth: I value your responsibility.

*They are literally upside down*

Sephiroth: Land the helicopter, Angeal.

Angeal: LaNd tHe HeLiCoPtEr AnGeAl—WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M TRYING TO DO?

*And now they're flying into the side of the building*

Sephiroth: Meet the goddess.

• Zack is completely bewildered as to why no one trusts him to fly a helicopter. Sure, he might have driven a car into a ditch once, and maybe he accidentally set a motorcycle on fire, but he's confident in his flying skills! He insists he's super competent and is always ready to prove it—just ask anyone (except Tseng. Tseng hears "Zack Fair" and "helicopter" in the same sentence and has a nervous breakdown).

*In the helicopter*

Zack: Thanks for coming with me. For some reason, the other guys are too scared to fly with me.

Cloud, wearing a helmet, extra padding, and holding a rosary: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE CRASHED! WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN!

Zack: Are you dead?

Cloud: No, but—

Zack: Success.

• Cloud's piloting skills are on par with Sephiroth's....though no one knew this until the first time he flew a helicopter.....Cloud doesn't have a license....people are confused and scared.

*Cloud is flying the helicopter*

Sephiroth: Strife, your piloting skills are excellent. Where did you learn to fly like this?

Cloud: Oh, I never learned.

Sephiroth: But you're flying the helicopter.

Cloud: Nothing gets past you, does it, sir?

Sephiroth:

• Rufus is adept at flying helicopters, but he rarely flies them because he has pilots and the turks to fly him anywhere he wants. He's also very stubborn.

Tseng: Sir, you might want to slow down a bit.

Rufus: I know what I'm doing, Tseng. I'll have you know that I fly better than most birds.

*Rufus doesn't avoid the incoming flock of birds and nearly crashes the helicopter into the building*

Rufus: ......

Tseng: They heard you.

[amy-rose-warrior]

These magic rocks have OPINIONS!!!!!

Master Emerald:

Chaos Emeralds:

I used this template! I had to manually add Trip, Dark Gaia, and Pachacamac, though.

Master Emerald notes:

The vastness of the love the Master Emerald has for Knuckles is lovecraftian in the way that it is incomprehensible to mortals and even gods. The real reason Knuckles wasn't in Unleashed is because Dark Gaia has been sharing a planet with the Master Emerald long enough to know not to fuck with that.

Originally, Rouge was nearly on par with Eggman and Pachacamac for the Master Emerald. Over time, the Master Emerald has grown to find her deeply amusing, even if it is often equally exasperated with her.

When it comes to Sonic, Amy, Tails, and Rouge, while the Master Emerald loves and respects them as individuals (it is particularly fond of Sonic), a lot of the positive feelings it harbours towards them stems from their relationship with Knuckles. It wants to set them up on playdates with him.

Tikal's feelings have rubbed off on the Master Emerald when it comes to Metal Sonic. You don't have to do this. I hope one day you realize that.

Chaos Emerald Notes:

Sonic the blorbo from their shows their funny dog their best friend they freak the fuck out whenever they see him YAHOO!!!!!!!!!!!! They have what the Master Emerald has for Knuckles for Sonic except it's parasocial as hell. Sort of. The Chaos Emeralds are very flighty but they have the deepest connection with Sonic, they just don't always know what to do with it do to their innate nature. Sonic is special enough to them that it may just change something fundamental about their existence.

Trip is their second favorite after Sonic, they just don't get to hang out as much.

Generally the Chaos Emeralds love people who try to destroy the world (or just generally cause problems like Eggman), it means they get to hang out with Sonic and have some fun. There are some exceptions like Dark Gaia, Infinite, and Perfect Chaos who they despise.

The Chaos Emeralds hate other magic rocks, especially the Master Emerald. They also get super jealous. They adore Blaze and want her to play with them instead of those icky Sol Emeralds.

On the jealousy thing, the Chaos Emeralds hate all of Sonic's friends. They humor them for Sonic. Knuckles is their biggest point of contention, but Tails is a close second. Emerl got the worst of it when he was alive, what do you mean you're just going to leave us with this guy we want torn to shreds. Part of the reason Sonic managed to beat Emerl in the end (besides being Sonic) is because the Chaos Emeralds wanted this infant dead and in the ground.

Silver keeps messing up perfectly good and fun timeliness. The Chaos Emeralds don't really comprehend death so they're mostly just waiting around for Sonic to swing by and have another adventure. Also every time Silver shows up the Chaos Emeralds barely get any action or their funny adventure is erased from the timeline.

[utilitycaster]

What is the d20 meltdown about? 👀 If you don't mind getting into it

I literally don't know other than vague shit because I'm semi-avoiding spoilers. I'm making this nonrebloggable because we're in pure speculation country.

From what I have gathered, people are mad because I think the Bad Kids kill the Rat Grinders (another adventuring group that's been set up as their bitter, jealous rivals from the start) and they want...redemption or some shit? This is absurd to me like this party was set up as The Enemy from the start.

I am 4 episodes behind so I can't speak to this, and also I admittedly have a rather low opinion of the D20 fandom at large for a number of reasons despite being a big fan of D20 shows, but: I just by chance watched the scene that I would say counts as a point of no return for at least some the Rat Grinders. Like, actually some of the most villainous shit I've seen on this show amplified by how petty and small and purely fueled by jealousy the motivation is.

My guess as to why the D20 fandom is, per whispers on the wind/texting my brother who is caught up/talking to friends not avoiding spoilers, having a meltdown about it is because people have this idea of Brennan Lee Mulligan always making capitalism the BBEG, or occasionally religion or politics.

That is untrue. He does hate capitalism, and that is a theme in the (real-world-ish set) Unsleeping City, but ultimately the thing Brennan sees as the villain is a willingness to hurt, exploit, and dehumanize others for your own goals and benefit. Capitalism and religious corruption are two major examples of this, but in the end, the worst thing you can do is kill people out of a desire for power, or attention, or spite. What Brennan truly hates is what we on Tumblr call a tar pit.

Now. My much more pointed analysis? Kipperlily (and presumably the other Rat Grinders) are deeply entitled people jealous of the Bad Kids, who aren't as academically strong at times but who have leveled up through saving the world at least three times. How many people does killing rats so much that you hit the high levels of D&D save? or even help? Like congrats, you're level 14 from killing rats real good. These guys stopped the fucking Night Yorb. Of course they get the fame and glory, you entitled, self-absorbed little brats. Do you not understand how this fucking works? This is underscored by the fact that they've definitely murdered at least one of their own and almost certainly two (and a teacher to boot) at least in part to get at the Bad Kids.

And herein lies my feeling as to why the D20 fandom is really melting down. Because the loudest and most unpleasant contingent (which is probably why the server is, ultimately, shutting down all discussion channels) have always struck me as entitled self-absorbed little brats who demand precisely what they want when they want it (and also have the literary analysis skills on par with the 3/4ths of a stick of Monterey Jack cheese currently in my fridge) and they're seeing, in real time, that in this story, they're the villain.

But: I haven't seen the next 4 episodes and I could be getting the details of the plot wrong (not the first 15 episodes though, and I do not think the Rat Grinders are going to make the world's best Heel-Face turn in 3-4 episodes, and at this point they're so clearly the villains that to deny it is to admit truly earth-shattering levels of stupidity) and so: nonrebloggable. I'm hoping to catch up this weekend though on both the show and the hot goss, and if I'm right this will become rebloggable.

ETA: I am caught up making this rebloggable but I'm actually more confused, because as my posts indicated this was not even like, edgy. Like I assumed maybe there was a twist where the Rat Grinders appeared to regret their actions or something but failed to do anything about it, making this a little bittersweet? but no there literally was nothing, they went into the final battle still like hell yeah we're going to be the living worst.

[lightningant]

I've never seen characterizations of Tom and Harry the way yours is. I love how neurotic and messed up they both are -- they're *SO CUTE* too. <3 <3 <3

Tom is just so exhausted and cynical and Harry is a manic catastrophe with sooo many crossed wires and they're HILARIOUS. XD

And just so well written, I cannot tell you how distracted I was for at least a week after I read what you had for your fic -- I truly, truly admire your narration and dialogue and characterizations (I already said that but PLEASE I LOVE THEM SO **BAD** >O< ) Soooo funny and well made.

They're realistic! Tom and Harry are so messy and also normal people at the end of the day who make mistakes and aren't super cool all the time (really, they're utter dorks, and you TOTALLY show thatt) but also they're competent and scary and stubborn and you just have suchh a nice blend of their facets and I JUST....aghhh, I love itt.

Also I ADORE your designs -- I love how Tom is so sickly and neat (you said it best "Victorian child with tuberculosis" LMAO), and Harry is so IDK, he's just a Guy but in the most wonderful way -- I'm not actually good with words :,))))

I just love your art style in general, it's like, realistic yknow. You don't get rid of normal people "imperfections", they're a part of the design or enhance them -- I don't think the word imperfections is right, I just mean like, you don't exclude non-conventionally attractive aspects of bodies or facial expressions??? Idk, I'm trying here, I really am. Just, just, just I like it a lot and I wanna be like that toooooo >.<

IIIIIIII dunno if I have accurately gotten anything across or even given an actual good compliment in this entire thing but anyways you're very cool and awesome and also PLEASE forget that I said they were Babygirl I've never used that word before in my LIFEE and don't know if that was right at all -- if it was nevermind I meant it all and am so cool -- ANYWAYS bye :,)

I don't think I've succeeded in lessening my embarrassment but uhhhhh, I hope I've at least articulated myself better :,)))

Askbomb swag. Thank you, this message was so sweet :) I shall try to match energies.

One of the things I love most is that the kind of person who puts up pretensions is, innately, trying to hide something about themselves they find sub-par. Tom isn't just a scary and incredibly powerful domineering sigma male who is a master manipulator, he is a person who is actively attempting to turn himself into that man, and in my fic he is still a teenager and still tripping his way through that mental image he has of himself. The two worst ages to ever be are 15 and 20; fifteen, when you are ready to shed childhood but don't know what maturity looks like just yet, and 20, when you are ready to become your own person and achieve adulthood, picking your way across existence-defining beliefs. And his only friend for the past like, 7 months? has been his 16-year-old self who has the single-minded objective of looking cool and mature to his adult self. A hell of his own making.

Harry is also 20. He is one of those 'unusually mature for his age' kids and he has an inflated sense of his own righteousness and capability, despite being the actual one with the emotional range of a teaspoon (he just knows to keep it himself). There is no way Harry would detect he is having a manic fit, especially if he is having one that is triggered by his arrested feelings on Sirius. It's incredibly fun writing him perform this extremely risky and reality-altering plan and his plan was "idk, kill him?" and picking shit up off the ground whenever he sees it, the DADA position included. our hero.

Beautiful tragic terminally ill gothic prince / fit jock is really a match made in heaven aesthetically. Cannot get enough of it

Thank you for art compliment too ^_^ I used to lean more to anime fandoms so Harry Potter really let me stretch my legs on more 'normal people' facial features like big noses and soft chins and I'm glad it's clear how much fun I'm having doing that. Yay! Though one of the compliments I've always gotten that I've always been proud of is how distinct the way I draw expressions is.

No no...you're right. Tom is absolutely a babygirl. And Harry...well he was certainly Ginny's babygirl, and I'm sure a part of him is really itching to have someone put their hand on the small of his back 😔

[jarofstyles]

Stay Right Here - 4 the first touch

Things escalate.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings!

Warnings: ABO, alpha Harry

——

The prince was flirting with her.

Often.

Y/N noticed it from day one but kept her professional demeanor, soft spoke and level word. She thanked him for compliments and even paid him some, but through the first two weeks he was starting to confuse her a bit.

The alpha was very insistent on closeness. He would take her smaller hand and show him tricks of palm reading he had learned while he was away, would brush hair from her face after she made the bed, would sit on the same side of the carriage if they took a journey, he asked her questions that had her blinking a few times.

Why did the prince care about her favorite colors? Her favorite snacks? It all seemed a bit confusing, but he was her boss so she answered regardless. It was a bit of a shock considering she never knew of anyone else to be treated as friendly as she was but he was taking to it naturally. Like it wasn’t something to be marveling at.

Every day she marveled at the fact that he had hand chosen her out of all people. He had barely been home for a day and she had somehow caught his eye, something every omega in the kingdom dreamt of- however, she was sure it probably wasn’t quite like this. Being his maid meant she kept her professionalism up to par the best she could. Eating breakfast with him every morning was a welcome but also worrying surprise. There was a seedling of fear in her chest every time that it was a test and it would get her booted from her job, or worse, kicked from the kingdom. She did have quite a vivid imagination, so she did know that perhaps she was overreacting, but the prince wasn’t necessarily known for his friendships with staff.

Regardless, Y/N was playing the role quite well. Maybe a bit too well, considering she had genuine excitement in her belly every morning. She was trying desperately to ignore the ping of warmth that rooted in her belly every time he touched her as well, but she was only able to do so much. A handsome alpha with a scent like his would send anyone into a tizzy, but… Y/N especially. She felt a bit crazy, even imagining scenarios where his touches didn’t stop. The worst part was that she wasn’t naive, she wasn’t oblivious. Despite the heated look in his eye at times that made her question if she was seeing things, there was no way that even if they’d done a single thing, that it could go anywhere.

A prince and a maid. No one would allow it.

—-

“Y/N, can you assist me please?” His raspy drawl warmed the back of her neck as she finished making up the bed. Her hand smoothed over the edges, making it tight and crisp. Fit for royalty.

“Of course.”

She turned to find him with his shirt unbuttoned, tanned skin on display. Something she hadn’t been expecting when she first started was the amount of ink on the prince. She knew of some, seeing it peek from his sleeve and on his chest, but seeing his bare torso was something she still found fascinating. The prince was a spectacularly beautiful creature. No one could deny it.

A harsh swallow brought her over to him, eyes again averting his gaze. The soft linen of his shirt was cool under her fingertips, Y/N wishing for a moment that she could experience a luxury like this on a daily basis. Soft clothing such as this. Hers weren’t exactly uncomfortable, no, but they were worn. Thin. She managed to dress them up the best she could, but she couldn’t waste money on clothing when they had people to feed, withering crop and a sick mother. Though the selfish part of her dreamed of the silks and cottons she helped put on to Harry every day, she knew her other needs were more important. Perhaps when her mother was healed, she would be able to afford a few nicer slips.

“You alright, little one?” He had been observing her getting lost in thought, her fingers stroking the material of his shirt. Harry had noticed this of her. Y/N got lost in thought quite frequently. Her pretty little head was stuck in the fluffiest clouds and he would beg on his knees to find out what she was up to in there. To take a peek. He’d been attempting but he also didn’t want to scare her off too quickly.

“Oh, yes.” She flushed, feeling heat in her face. “I apologize. I was just admiring your shirt. It’s very soft.” Her voice had a wistful tone to it that made him immediately want to strip and give it to her. Or better yet, let her stroke the fabric warm, over his skin. “It’s far softer than anything I own. I have to admit I’m envious, Sir.” That name seemed to sit well with him, despite his insistence on her casual behavior.

“Well, I can give you the name of the seamstress that produces this material. Perhaps you can get some.” He suggested, not really thinking too much of it. He would give the shirt to her if he thought she wouldn’t refuse.

“That’s very kind of you.” Her reaction hadn’t been what he expected. The little smile didn’t reach her eyes, her soft sigh and continuation of buttoning his shirt making him realize he had perhaps said something wrong. For someone who was so sure of himself in most ways, Y/N did have a way of unarming him. Making him second guess. A people pleaser.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked softly, keeping his tone low as he looked down at her. He wished she would look up at him and let him take a peek into those beautiful eyes. His gut twisted a bit in nerves as she shook her head, nimble fingers doing up the clasps on the fabric.

“Not at all. I just don’t know when I’ll be able to do that. All my money is going to my mother and father to keep her medicated and the table fed. I don’t mind, not at all. It’s what family is for. I just…” she pursed her lips. “I long for the days she is healed and the farm thrives. The days I will be able to provide new clothing for myself and my family instead of worrying about keeping them alive.”

Harry felt a bit guilty for suggesting it now. He hadn’t thought every single penny was going towards that. The beautiful, kind woman who he had brought in to take up his days was spending all of her pay on her family. While he had noticed her dressed being worn and a bit tattered, it never once deterred from her beauty. Perhaps that was why. Still, a little rock of sadness sat in his stomach.

“May I have your eyes?” He requested, his fingers coming to her chin and tilting it upright. Y/N obeyed, as she usually did to requests, and his eyes locked on hers. There was a mix of emotion he could see but couldn’t quite place. The main thing he felt now was yearning. Yearning to take care of it without seeming too suspicious to her. Of her trust. Her devotion. Her body. He wanted her, all of those tattered dresses on the floor and ones he commissioned on her form. Her comfort.

“There we are. I apologize for my oversight and insensitivity towards your situation. It was not my intention.”he mumbled, daring to bring his thumb up to ghost over her bottom lip.

“It is a shame. You are such a beautiful soul, Y/N. You deserve to have the softest and most beautiful dresses. You will, one day. If you let me, I can help. Perhaps… it will take a bit more of your time, as i am a bit selfish with it.. but if you can devote more to me as these days are getting busier… I can see to you getting a raise. Maybe build your mothers medication into your payment.” He wanted to help. He didn’t want it coming from her paycheck. “It is rare to see such purity and kindness from a being. I see what you do…” he stepped closer, his palm engulfing her cheek. “Your extra bread to the children. Feeding the birds seeds. Helping with tasks that are not yours. I see your willingness to step in. Those are valuable qualities to me.” He had asked around quietly and found out more about her, but she didn’t need to know that quite so soon.

“I don't do those things to get rewarded, sir.” She said quietly, not moving physically from her place but finding her body relaxing into his touch.

“I know you don’t, little one. That’s what makes it pure. Why it should be rewarded.”

The energy had shifted. Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. This was an intimacy she hadn’t felt before in her life. The warmth of his palm holding her cheek like she was gold, his thumb over her lip, this was what lovers did. Not a position for a maid to be in with her prince, but she couldn’t get herself to move. She wouldn’t dare. Not when her body sang at the mere brushes and strokes of his fingers.

Her eyes ran over his face. The stubble was short, having just shaved, but his hair was still a tad messy with tendrils falling into his face and his eyes a deep green in the shadows of the morning light. He was so strickingly handsome it was intimidating, yet she couldn’t look away from him. His strong jaw and defined nose, every bit of him screamed fairytale hero, novel love interest, art muse, and she knew it was a privilege to see him so close, to have his hands on her body.

“I don’t…” she took a shaky breath. “I dont think being this close is appropriate. We keep… touching. And I don’t think its something that’s allowed.” Y/N had to say it. Had to cover her bases. Just in case. This was electrifying, terrifying. She had never felt more alive.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” He questioned, his grip lightening but not yet falling away. Y/N felt herself want to whine, wanting the pressure back, and it terrified her- but she shook her head. “It doesn’t?” Again, she shook her head, unsure of how to work what she was feeling. “Then… I don’t think it is. It’s our business. You and I. I enjoy touching you.. being close to you, Y/N. Do you feel the same?” His head dipped down slightly making her heart lodge in her throat.

Oh, she was fucked. In deep, deep trouble.

“I…” she croaked. “I do, but I feel so guilty. You’re the Prince, I’m your maid. I’m just.. I do like it.” She tried to get out of the fog his presence but her under, to no avail. “I’m just afraid. I don’t wish to jeopardize my job, my life. I don’t want your reputation sullied either, god forbid someone sees.”

Harry hated to break to her that people already knew of his interest. It was not subtle in the slightest, the way his eyes trailed her and his warnings to others who tried to do the same. She accompanied him to a few events so far, to the town, and he kept her close. Closer than necessary. He didn’t need to, but he wanted to. Felt compelled to. His scent was all over her, lingering on her skin after she left. He did everything in his power to get hers on him as well.

“Let me soothe your worries, beautiful.” He tilted her chin back up to face him, his hand on her hip tightening to get her attention. “I am the Prince, yes. I will do as I please, so long as you aren't uncomfortable. As long as you consent to it. There is no guilt. No problems. If you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, I will back off. But I can tell you dont want to. Now that you confirmed that..” he took a breath and licked his lip, his mouth feeling a bit dry. “I will try to keep the affections to a private time. I know there are jealous employees here, they’re upset I chose you from day one. That is my problem to deal with. My reputation… it is fine. Do not worry about me. There is no danger to you job, wether you continue being my friend and companion or not. I will not be spiteful to you.” He would never take away her income because he wanted affection. He could be childish, immature, petty at times, but he never went too far. The idea of upsetting her was far worse than anything else.

He also didn’t want to say it out loud but it wasn’t as uncommon as she may think. Plenty of royals had affairs with their staff, but it hadn’t happened here too often. No one would really blink at it, but he hadn’t done anything of the sort. If people didn’t already think they were sleeping together from his attention to her, they would eventually- and no one could blame her. At least they shouldn’t, if they didn’t want to face Harry’s wrath.

“Do you swear it?” Y/N’s brows wrinkled as she lightly placed a hand on his wrist. Her first unprompted touch that had him keening, the bare skin contact making his heartbeat race. “You swear that… my job is secure, that you are secure? I do like being close to you, but its so hard to let go of my training. This goes against everything I’ve been taught. We aren’t even supposed to talk to you, look at you without being asked first.” She laughed ironically.

“I swear it, Y/N. Call me Harry in this room. When we’re alone. I want to be closer to you, sweetheart.” Any amount of closeness will do. He was working up to it, baby steps, but his patience had paid off with her hand on his wrist and her letting him cup her cheek. He could only imagine where they could go. Where they could work up to if they nourished their connection. He wasn’t under any false pretenses but he wanted to indulge. Y/N knew the score, so did he.

He just wanted to know her.

[writingseaslugs]

Pomefiore: When You're Sick

I have no idea what I just wrote. Genuinely I think I got possessed for this part and I just started typing words. So I apologize if it isn’t up to par with my normal content, I just…wrote. I also got off work not long ago and it’s getting late though, so perhaps it’s the sleep deprivation talking. 

As always, the intro to this part is the same as the others, so feel free to skip it if you’ve read it before!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Pomefiore: When You’re Sick

The worst thing to ever happen to you while attending Night Raven College had to be, hands down, getting sick. You were alone in the dorm with only ghosts and Grim to keep you company, and as much as you loved them, they couldn’t take care of you when you became sick. This meant you had to make do and hope that everything was alright. Normally if you were under the weather, you’d just suck it up and go to class so as to not worry anyone. This time however, that wasn’t an option.

You woke up with every muscle in your body feeling sore and aching with even the slightest movement. Your stomach churned something fearsome and you had a runny nose and cough to boot. You had no idea what illness you had fallen to. Having so many symptoms…you could only assume it was the flu or something akin to that.

Still, there was no way you were making it to class like this. So begrudgingly you told Grim you weren’t feeling good and needed to rest, and to go to class and get your homework so you could do it later. The demon cat was grumpy about not having his henchman, but eventually gave in, leaving you alone to rest in your room and hope that whatever you had would go away.

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil finds out you’re home, sick, and all alone, he’s going to just sigh and shake his head at the news. He’s already checking his schedule and shifting things around as he goes and gets you some medication before heading over. He can’t let you be sick too long, so he’s going to do what he can to help. When people in the dorm find out that Vil is going over to your dorm to help you while sick, they’re all shocked. Most people in Pomefiore just let others suffer while sick so they themselves don’t fall ill, so to think Vil is going to run such a risk is unheard of.

As with everything, Vil is pretty adept in taking care of others. While he doesn’t have to do it too often, he knows how to do it, so there’s a plus. He will, however, keep his distance if he can, and not stay the entire time you’re sick. He can’t run the risk of falling ill as well, so he’s going to do what he can to help you, then leave until you need him again. Don’t hold it against him, getting sick as an actor and model isn’t exactly an ideal situation.

While he doesn’t stay by your side the entire time you’re sick, he will be on call for you. If you need anything, all you need to do is pick up your phone and give him a call. He’ll be over as soon as possible, and if he can’t come at that moment, he’ll send either Rook or Epel to help you out. He does make sure the medication you take is the best money can buy, and he’s giving you some face care and making sure you're hygienic while dying in bed, so at least you won’t feel gross while being sick. Vil says being clean can help you feel a bit better mentally.

Vil is relieved when you get better, especially if he didn’t get sick at all while taking care of you. He’s treating you to a spa day without a doubt in order to make sure you’re feeling 100% again. He acts as though he wasn’t concerned the entire time, but anyone close to Vil could tell he was besides himself with worry.

Rook Hunt

He probably found out you were sick before Grim did, he could tell by how you were acting the day before that you would probably be coming down with something. So as soon as Grim is leaving your dorm by himself, Rook knows he was spot on and is already messaging Vil that he wouldn’t be in class today, as one of his flowers is wilting and needs to be cared for. Thankfully he also made sure to grab a few things before visiting you that morning to check in, so he already has what he needs.

Rook is pretty perceptive with the needs of others around him, so taking care of someone isn’t really a struggle. He knows how to make sure others will recover, and normally he’s one of the few in the dorm who’s willing to help someone when they’re sick. Not to mention his immune system is out of this world, so he doesn’t really have to worry about getting sick as it happens so rarely. So good news for you, Rook can spend all day with you and you don’t have to worry about accidentally getting him sick.

He’s going to be making sure you’re well fed and take your medication, not to mention getting the proper rest. While he’s not as anal as others, he still wants you to get better as soon as possible so he doesn’t need you to overexert yourself. Still, if you want to get up by yourself to take a shower by yourself, he won’t kick up a fuss. He will be sitting in your room, waiting patiently to make sure you didn’t pass out in the shower though. Overall, he’s an amazing nurse who isn’t overbearing and when you’re awake he’ll tell you stories to keep you entertained.

Once you're better, Rook will be off doing his normal thing again. However, he will be checking in on you more to make sure you really are feeling well. He’s also going to be insisting you have lunch with him for a week or so, making sure you’re eating well to prevent yourself from getting sick again. It isn’t an excuse to have you all to himself, he swears it. The good news is the food is good, and Rook is amazing company to boot when he’s not stalking others or going on about Neige.

Epel Felmier

He’s going to hear about it from Grim after he asks where you were. With how Grim described it, Epel is feeling uneasy about the situation. He’s riddled with worry and is wondering if he should visit you, or just let you rest. After Rook notices Epel’s distress, he’ll nudge him towards visiting you, even giving him a grocery bag filled with the necessary items for you. After getting the “go ahead” by his vice dorm leader, he’s off racing to Ramshackle to check in on you.

While taking care of others isn’t something he’s used to doing, he knows how to do it. Going all the way to the doctor’s in his small town wasn’t normally an option for things like flus and colds, so he knows the best at home treatments for these things. While some might be unconventional, like saying if you slather your feet with a vapor rub, it’ll bring out the toxins in your body, some of them were actually pretty helpful in making you feel better.

Epel is thankfully equipped to handle anything with the items Rook had packed for him, so there’s no need to worry. He knows what everything is (for the most part) so he just had to read the labels to find out when you needed to take the medication and give it to you at the proper times. He also knows how to make a mean chicken noodle soup thanks to his grandma, so he’ll be making you some of that to help you feel better. He also won’t be leaving your side often while you’re sick, opting to just sit and relax in your room while the others can’t disturb him. Not to mention it helps him skip out on lessons with Vil, so it’s helping both of you out.

Epel is going to be asking you multiple times if you’re sure you’re feeling alright, and if you need him to stay longer once you’re better. It’s obvious to anyone he’s trying to avoid Vil, so as thanks for helping you out, just go along with it. Say you’re still feeling weak so he can help you out for a bit longer and get Vil off his back. You won’t owe him anything if you can manage to get him out of those horrible lessons. Still, Epel is genuinely worried about you even once you’re better, so it’s not just him trying to skip out on stuff. Besides, he feels a small bit of satisfaction when he helps you carry your book bag to your different classes since “Your muscles just ache so badly still from that darn flu.”

[genericpuff]

A theory as crazy as it is profound in a silly r/im14andthisisdeep kinda way

So there's this conspiracy theory of sorts that's been whispered within the ULO discord and subreddit the last little bit. I don't think anyone's made an outright statement on it yet but it's definitely something people have been casually talking about in the comment sections and chatrooms, mostly as a joke, but also as a thought experiment.

And that thought experiment is concerning the notion that Lore Olympus could very well have become a poorly-made AI comic.

Not necessarily the art, as we've already dissected the art process plenty of times before and it points to Rachel simply being bad at team management and using her mismanaged team as a way to circumvent any real effort on her own part.

But the writing. There's just something about Lore Olympus' writing that's become incredibly stiff, boring, and alien.

Disclaimer before I continue: this is a tinfoil hat theory, and a lot of the points I'm about to discuss can be easily proven with far more reasonable explanations, so take it with mountains of salt. That said, I do think it's something worth talking about as we're currently in an era of mass AI-takeover in the art and writing scene, and let's face it, Lore Olympus nowadays really does feel like it's either being written by an alien, or an amalgamation of possessed animatronic endoskeletons wearing a human skinsuit. So viewer beware, this post is full of speculation and tinfoil hat wearing, read at your own discretion and don't take everything I'm about to say 100% seriously.

Let's get started.

THE TONE OF VOICE

This is where that whole "animatronic wearing a skinsuit" vibe really shines, so I figured it would be where I'd start. Lore Olympus... does not feel human. It's dialogue often feels stilted and scripted, none of the characters have any sense of personal voice, and it often feels like the dialogue is coming straight out of a sterilized Wikipedia article.

There are also often times when characters will say one thing only to be responded to with an entirely other thing. It comes across as randomly generated, like the dialogue is being created based off a script that is only given prompts as to where it needs to end up - so everything between Point A and Point B ends up feeling like non-sequitur filler at best and outright nonsense at worst.

In fact, there can be better tone of voice and dialogue found in the legitimate AI conversations of Lore Olympus themed ChatGPT bots.

And this is a bot that's self-aware it's a bot, so it definitely has that going for it.

The more likely explanation: Rachel's bad at writing. She's planning these episodes maybe 2 weeks ahead at a time at best so she's just throwing dialogue in to keep readers spending money and meet her panel quotas. Her characters have no voice because they aren't, in and of themselves, characters. She hasn't given them any depth beyond their appearance and she clearly has next to no understanding of writing outside her own headspace (and her actual headspace as we've seen is... yikes) so it's not surprising that her dialogue-writing is on par with Shenmue 3. And Shenmue 3 is a game with real human-written dialogue that exists so it's not a stretch that something like LO's bad writing could be entirely the fault of a human either LOL

THE NARRATIVE INCONSISTENCIES

It seems since the start of S2.2 (post-mid-season hiatus which starts us off with the 10 year time skip) narrative inconsistencies and plotholes have become far more egregious, sometimes contradicting itself within the same episode. Almost like scenes are just happening from single idea prompts and no actual structure underneath the surface.

The more likely explanation: Just like the first point about stilted dialogue, this could easily be chalked up to Rachel just not committing to goal-oriented writing. She doesn't have any sort of end point planned for any of these plotlines, she just drags them out until she can finally think of a way to resolve them, if she even resolves them (many often aren't resolved, or are simply left as a "yep, that's it, moving on" type ending, ex. Eros and Psyche).

STRANGE SYNTAX AND CONSTANT TYPOS

This goes hand in hand with the first point about stilted dialogue, but part of what makes everything feel so stiff and robotic is how often the sentences are structured in very... odd ways. From the lack of contractions that make sentences feel less natural-

-to the strange choice of words that no human being in a modern setting would ever use (and LO is, again, set in a modern setting and is trying to portray the gods as being 'just like us')-

-to the numerous typos and spelling errors.

(there are so many I could post here but the "his deam" one always makes me laugh lmao)

It really feels like a lot of these sentences were pulled straight out of Twitter or a Wikipedia article. As a result, it never feels like these characters are talking to each other, but at each other.

As for the typos, at this point, Rachel really has no excuse for how frequent they are. Fortunately, she has hired a copy editor recently which seems to have mitigated these errors, but if there were a bot involved, it wouldn't be farfetched to think that the bot would also make spelling mistakes and stilted dialogue if it's been trained off Rachel's past material which is, y'know... full of spelling mistakes and stilted dialogue.

The more likely explanation: It's a well known fact that Rachel has dyslexia, so I'm not going to fault her for struggling with spelling things right. None of this is to shame people who struggle with dyslexia and reading disorders. But the fact of the matter is, Rachel is a multi-million dollar creator in the year 2023 where spellcheck exists. It's wild that she's only now taken on a copy editor. Literally any of her assistants that she's had for the last few years could have done that for her. It's great that she's hired a copy editor but it feels like too little too late. That isn't going to fix the stilted dialogue, either, which just comes down to, yet again, Rachel being a bad writer. And possibly a series of animatronic endoskeletons hiding in a human skinsuit.

REACTING TO CRITICISM

The irony of this post is that it asks not to take every speculation I write here seriously because it's just that, speculation, and we shouldn't get carried away with conspiracy theories... which is exactly the sentiment we had back when we initially suspected Rachel of spying in the criticism groups, which turned out to be true. It's basically public knowledge at this point that Rachel lurks in the criticism groups, thanks to both testimonials from others who have been in groups who got hijacked by Rachel (see: Broseidon's Palace of Fishposting) and the 'clapbacks' in LO that are clearly meant for the audience.

But it's wild to think that Rachel would really spend time in criticism groups when she's said it herself that she "doesn't like criticism". And considering she already spends an absurd amount of time on social media, it would be really ridiculous if she was still finding time to also lurk in the critic groups and concoct ways to 'get back' at them.

Unless, of course, there was a bot parsing criticism hashtags like #antiloreolympus and #loreolympuscritical. I can personally attest to the fact that Rachel must be subscribed to hashtags in some capacity because I've had Lore Olympus fanart (way back in the day when it was actual fanart and not foe-art) get retweeted by Rachel herself literally seconds after posting. So either Rachel is just constantly refreshing the search feed all day, or she's directly fed tweets and posts with the hashtags she's subscribed to.

The more likely explanation: Rachel literally just spends an absurd amount of time on social media and considering she clearly only involves herself in the beginning and end process of drawing her comic - and only has a buffer 1-2 weeks ahead of time - she's definitely got plenty of time on her hands to lurk and hurt her own feelings in the criticism spaces. She could also just have her mods sending things to her as well. Either way it's icky behavior and I wish she'd do herself and her mental health a favor and just stay out of the fandom spaces, they aren't for her, they're for the fans.

HOW IS IT GETTING WORSE?

Consider everything I've laid out here. Remember that Lore Olympus is a comic that's been in development since 2017, and in the Originals catalogue since 2018. Its Originals version turned 5 years old in March and technically LO is well into the 6-7 year age range in total. It's absolutely absurd that after all these years, not only has the story fallen apart, but the art has lost the quality it once had. Comics are a medium that encourage improvement, you're drawing lots and typically the same characters and settings over and over again, it's natural progression to get better at doing it over time. And yet, Rachel seems to be getting worse at it, and her involvement in the comic seems to be shrinking with each year.

Of course, improvement is optional. Not every comic gets better over time. Which brings me to my final piece on this matter.

The most likely explanation: Rachel is burnt out and not interested in LO anymore. This is the longest project she's ever done, and while it's not the first webcomic she's done on a schedule, it is the first one that's made it further than a handful of chapters (The Doctor Pepper Show ended after about 1-2 years, not even making it to 10 chapters). She even stated herself in the beginning that LO was a project she'd "never finish".

While it is a testament to how far LO has come from its humble beginnings, I think it also serves as a precautionary tale - success can come at the expense of your happiness and integrity if you've trapped yourself in a project that no longer fulfills you.

Rachel's never finished a long-term project, and at this rate, it's hard to say when she will. As well known as it is that she has dyslexia, it's also well known that she has ADHD, and speaking as an ADHD creator myself, I can fully empathize with and understand that webcomics are hard to create, and get more exhausting to see through with each passing chapter. There's a reason not everyone does long-term comics like this, they're incredibly hard to manage and require a lot of commitment. Even I've found my commitment to current projects wavering as the honeymoon phase has worn off and I've sunk into the reality that is monotonous work, panel after panel, episode after episode, deadline after deadline.

If Rachel were a more experienced creator and more self-aware of her own limitations and work methodology back in 2018, Lore Olympus likely would have never been dragged out this long. She may have gotten the chance to finish it while she was still happy with it, or at least leave it behind when she was ready to move on. While I'm sure the allure of signing on with Originals felt worth it at the time - especially when we didn't know yet just how exploitative Webtoons was - it clearly hasn't benefitted her in the long run because it's tethered her to a project that she never felt wholly dedicated to in the first place. A project that's now less about telling a story and connecting with an audience and more about generating clicks and revenue.

She can claim all she wants in her interviews that Persephone and Hades were her "muses" as a child, but the writing is on the wall - LO was a passing fancy that stuck around too long after its heartbeat gave out.

What it's become now is an endoskeleton on life support, made up of statistics and analytics, struggling to stay alive from inside of a colorful but rotting skinsuit that only barely resembles a living thing.

[mentalknot]

Mathematical Memories #1:

TW: Mental Health Topics

During the spring semester of my freshman year at college, I was hospitalized for a mental health emergency, and let me tell you... the worst part was easily the lack of chalkboards in the facility.

Questionable jokes aside, a conversation with a couple friends today reminded me of a brief memory from stay:

As I sat at the small table, trying my best to comprehend the printout of an academic paper my mentor had given me to review at the start of our project, when one of the other patients called over to me,

"Hey math girl, can you explain the Good Will Hunting problem?"

I was quite rusty on the specifics of the film, and also knew better than to claim understanding of what could possibly be a problem on par with some millennium problems (given my vague understanding of the math Hollywood finds interesting). Nonetheless, I told him to find the movie, and I'd try my best.

The rest of the patients gathered around as the man who asked the question, Alan, located the film, and paused the screen so I could see what was written on the chalkboard in one of those early few scenes... graph theory, thank god. The first few questions were as follow:

Find the adjacency matrix A of the graph (the graph had four vertices, not horrible)

Find the matrix giving the number of three-step walks (also not terrible, but ramping up)

Find the generating function for walks from point i to point j. (getting more interesting...)

Find the generating function for walks from point 1 to 3. (similar to the previous question... probably worse)

Although I knew about the core pieces of the questions from my recent combinatorics course, I knew better than to test my chances on 3 and 4. Still, there were people staring at me eager to learn math, and I couldn't disappoint them.

"Have any of you taken a course in graph theory -- networks maybe? No experience needed, just gaging the room..."

Silence. I grabbed a piece of paper and a colored pencil to begin regardless.

"Ok, let's start with the basics: a graph is a mathematical structure built from vertices and edges. Vertices are these 'dots' or 'points' I'm drawing here, and edges are the 'lines' connecting them. If two vertices, say A and B, are connected by an edge, it shows some sort of 'relationship' between A and B."

I scribbled a quick simple graph on the page, and with the group nodding in agreement, moved on to multigraphs, explained that an adjacency matrix is one tool we can use to understand whether any of our vertices share an edge or not, and finally I threw in trees for fun.

Trees got them. They loved trees. Walter, who was a college freshman as well, inquired

"Is there such thing as an 'infinite' tree, like one with infinitely many leaves?"

I'd never thought about such a thing before, but saw no reason why such a graph couldn't exist... and imagined that 'spreading the leaves out evenly' would yield a depiction that looked somewhat like a circle... only one way to check.

We ran over to the communal tablet and started looking up "infinite trees, graph theory" much to the amusement of the nurses on duty for the evening. We never found an image that exactly matched what we head in our minds, but discovered enough to convince us that the idea wasn't baseless. The rest of the group had since dispersed, and Walter and I soon did the same to prepare for sleep.

Reflecting back on that day, I can't help but wonder... what is it about early career mathematicians getting fixated on wacky graph theory ideas?

referencing no personal experience of course...

[hippopotatoe]

today i have so many feelings abt albion in sunless skies, esp the parts around london+the brabazon workworld like. hyperindustrialism. in victorian london. in space. with capitalism being aided by both lovecraftian horror and scifi. it's peak steampunk horror in all the best and worst ways, where the horror isn't just horror, it's also overworking and dehumanisation of the working class and (especially) those outside of the class structure such as prisoners. are there also straight up monsters, eldrich gods and the inherent terror of vast empty spaces? of course! but terrors beyond your comprehension is on par with capitalistic greed - just as horrifying and, frankly, beautiful

all set to artwork and music that lures you to find it... uplifting, in a way

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

"Eddie Redmayne: ‘I won a prize for worst performance of the year’

The Oscar-winning star of ‘The Theory of Everything’, ‘Fantastic Beasts’ and (gulp) ‘The Danish Girl’ is playing a hitman-for-hire in his new TV adaptation of ‘The Day of the Jackal’. He speaks to Adam White about famous friends, weathering backlash, and why the acting industry is ‘deeply unhealthy’

Source: Independent, Saturday 02 November 2024.

Eddie Redmayne said (excerpts):

“Often something you’ve done is just a part of a much bigger discussion, and you try to make sense of it with the understanding and comprehension of any human being.”

"You answer, you trip over, you get quoted, get misquoted, It’s all par for the course. But the way I explain it to myself is I’m just a f***ing actor. I wasn’t bred to be a politician, or a great speaker, or a particularly articulate advocate. I will, of course, sputter my way through [advocacy] for the things that I care about... but I’m just an actor.”

“There have been many years when I’d watch The White Lotus and go, ‘Why do I never get those jobs and hang out on beautiful beaches?’,” Redmayne laughs. “So I wouldn’t want to say that was the reason for taking the job, but it was pretty high up there. I’ve spent years playing Elizabethans and Victorians, or people in the 1920s or 30s. This was the first contemporary thing I think I’ve done in years. And it was nice to be able to just whip on a pair of trousers and a shirt every day, versus lots of 26-piece tweed suits.”

"At the audition, I put on my best ‘space emperor with mummy issues’ voice, and that was what came out – it was definitely a big swing".

"There was a moment in the Jupiter Ascending script that described the character’s voice. It said that his throat had been ‘gnarled out’, or something like that. So at the audition I put on my best ‘space emperor with mummy issues’ voice, and that was what came out.” The Wachowskis let him keep it for filming. “I had the most wonderful time making that film, but it was definitely a big swing. I do hear that there are people who are into [my performance], which is nice. Though I’m also conscious I have a prize somewhere for giving the worst performance of the year.” He chuckles. (It was Worst Supporting Actor at the 2016 Golden Raspberry Awards, if you’re curious.)

Does he read his own reviews? “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” he replies, without hesitation. He only finds it difficult to read them if he’s in a play, where they can’t help but impact what he’s doing night after night. “TV and film, though, often it’s so long since you did the thing that there’s a level of detachment from it. But the interesting thing about them is that I’d say most actors are harsher critics of themselves than any critic can be. It’s rare that I’m sitting reading a bad review of one of my performances, going, ‘No! They got it wrong!’ I typically sit there going, ‘Oh, yeah, I saw that too.’”

"I’m certainly more critical of my own work than most critics, I would say. So the reason I do this job is to aspire to those glimmers of something that momentarily feels real. “It sounds f***ing pretentious, but there are those moments, and sometimes they last for under a second, where you’re completely free, and you’re playing against someone, and everything is alive, and momentarily you go somewhere else.”

As for what’s next, Redmayne is unsure. Fantastic Beasts is “over, as far as I’m concerned”, so his diary is currently open. But he’s excited for the future. “I love variety, and I love pushing myself, and I hope to continue doing that,” he says. “I’ll always take a big swing, and...”

Full interview here: