#i hate exponential functions

[perpetuallyconfusedgoose]

my brother, making fun of me complaining about graphs: haha graphs are easy its just lines

me, ready and prepared to make him attempt an exponential function: ok bet

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Gentle Love

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of depression, panic attacks, just a lot of hurt/comfort

a/n: surprise! another fic! i know a lot of people have been wanting just rio fics, so here you go! a little hurt/comfort! the goal was to make a mental health fic where it isn't romanticized, so here's hoping i did that! enjoy!!!

Your relationship with Lady Death wasn’t one that had a spontaneous start. She didn’t save you from a painful demise, or help you realize life was worth living.

She had met you on her day off. (Yes, Lady Death gets days off. She’s not the only one working the underworld, you know.) She was wandering through a wooded area when she came across you. You were sitting under a willow tree, humming to yourself as you wove a crown of daisies.

Her heart had practically melted at the sight of you, and she found herself gravitating towards you. Before she knew it, she was introducing herself to you and you were inviting her to join you beneath the willow.

The two of you were pretty much inseparable after that. You spent countless days getting to know every part of each other; mind, body, and soul. Soon enough, you were deeply in love with Rio Vidal: Lady Death. And she could say the same about you.

You both had grown exponentially by being in each other’s presence. But a romantic relationship doesn’t mean the absence of all problems.

Rio struggled deeply with guilt. She hated that she had been bound to this calling, that she had been chosen to wear a face she found hideous and escort living creatures to a world beyond life. It pained her to take children from their mothers, sisters from their brothers, soulmates from their lovers. 

But you were so soft with her. Soft as you kissed her in her Death form, soft as you held her while she shook with guilt and self-hatred, soft as you assured her that she was doing the right thing. That you loved her always.

As for you, mental illness was something you had dealt with from a young age. After all, being a witch who was chased from countless villages and hunted endlessly, all for possessing a magical ability she never asked for…well, it tends to have some lasting negative effects on one’s mental well being.

You were proud to say you knew how to handle it, but you had your weak moments. Moments like now. And you hated them.

As you woke up, you felt a familiar heaviness in your bones. Your heart felt heavy but was racing all the same, your head ached, and your stomach churned with dread and anxiety.

You turned to the other side of the bed, reaching for your comfort, your person, only to find it empty. Your eyes filled with tears as you took a deep breath. 

You wondered if you should call her. You hated that the thought even crossed your mind. You could handle this alone.

“But you don’t have to,” your lover’s words echoed through your mind as you pondered what to do.

You and Rio had created a system for times like this. If ever you were feeling like the walls were closing in, like you couldn’t breathe, like you could barely function. All you had to do was think of a color and a name. Her name.

Yellow meant you were struggling, but could handle it alone if need be. Red meant you needed her.

You rarely tended to use red. You loved Rio, and you knew full well that her presence helped to calm you in times of discomfort and anxiety, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of your need to be independent and not rely on anyone for help. You hated admitting the need for help.

Even now, as you laid in bed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe, you refused to admit defeat. But you knew you owed it to both her and yourself to say something.

Yellow. Rio. Yellow, you thought as you brought your hands to your face, willing your breathing to calm down.

It was no use. All you could think of was how useless you were, how helpless, worthless, weak.

You choked out a sob as the room seemed to get smaller and smaller.

Until you felt gentle hands on your wrists, tenderly pulling them from your face.

“Hey there, sweet girl. Let’s sit you up, yeah?” Rio said softly.

You followed her instructions, allowing the witch to help you to a sitting position.

You met her eyes, expecting to see disappointment and disgust, but instead being met with nothing but love pooling in her brown eyes. 

Her hands moved from your wrists, gently intertwining her hands with yours. 

“There’s my girl. Let’s try and get that breathing to slow down. Wanna get some more air in those beautiful lungs of yours, yeah?” She cooed, her eyes encouraging.

You nodded, and she took one of your hands, placing it on her stomach as she took exaggerated breaths as an example.

You began to copy her, your eyes not leaving hers, feeling safe as you lost yourself in her.

She squeezed your hands softly. “Look at you go. Breathing all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, mi vida,” she whispered as you found yourself finally able to breathe steadily.

You both sat there for a few more minutes, her allowing you the space to feel whatever you may be feeling as you came back to your senses.

You opened your mouth to speak, struggling to find words to express your needs. As if she had read your mind, Rio let go of your hands to reposition herself against the headboard of the bed and opened her arms to you.

You smiled at her in gratitude, moving to sit in between her legs, laying your back against her front as she held you.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, just soaking in each other’s presence; Rio running her fingers through your hair with one hand and softly caressing your leg with the other.

Eventually, she spoke.

“I’m so proud of you.”

You shrugged against her and she shook her head.

“I’m serious, my love. I’m proud of you for calling for me.”

“Feel weak,” you mumbled as you hung your head.

Rio furrowed her brows, turning you to face her. “Quite the contrary, love. You are the bravest person I know. You can handle these things on your own. I know you can. But you knew it wasn’t what was best for you, so you called for me. And I’m so grateful to be in love with such a strong, beautiful girl who knows how to help herself,” she said, her voice full of adoration that brought tears to your eyes.

“I love you, Rio,” you choked out, your hands finding her cheeks, thumbs brushing against the skin softly.

She placed her hands on your waist, allowing you to initiate the kiss.

You brought her face to yours, kissing her with all the love you had. She kissed you back, softly, always softly, pecking your lips softly as you pulled away.

“I love you most, my precious girl,” she said, laughing as you rolled your eyes at her need to turn everything into a competition.

She kissed the tip of your nose, relishing in the way you wrinkled it at the sensation.

“Alright, I prescribe you a glass of water, some chocolate chip pancakes, and cuddles with your hot girlfriend,” she said as she got up, smirking at you.

She beamed in triumph as you giggled. “Well if that’s what the doctor herself ordered, who am I to disagree?” you teased.

“My thoughts exactly. I’ll be right back, my brave girl. I love you,” she said, her eyes softening again.

“I love you, Rio Vidal,” you said with a smile, and she blew you a kiss before exiting your bedroom.

Yes, she was Lady Death, but to you, Rio Vidal would always be your gentle love.

[gguk-n]

Your brother's Oscar Piastri? (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

I've had this idea in my head since I found out Oscar's sister is a K-Pop stan.

{Reader's POV}

Getting tickets to a K-Pop concert got exponentially more difficult as their popularity rose. It took so many attempts and almost losing the hair on my head before I got tickets to the TXT concert in town. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the confirmation email rolled in.

On the day of the concert, I might have gone all out and dressed up but everyone dresses up for the concert and it was the most exciting day I've had in a while. I love that I get to spend my adult money on stuff I enjoy. At the venue, I got to meet some people I had connected with online and made some new friends.

There was a girl next to me in the seating, who I ended up vibing with. We had a lot of fun as we sang along to all their songs; our voice went hoarse by the end of the night. As we walked out while talking about the concert, "Ugh, my mum won't answer my calls" the girl next to me, who I was introduced to as Hattie groaned. "Is there an issue?" I asked. "My mum's supposed to be my ride back and she won't answer my calls" she whined. "I could drop you" I suggested. "Oh, no. That would be too much to ask for" the girl shook her head to avoid causing any inconvenience . "It'll be fine. We're part of the same fandom so it makes us family" I laughed. She seemed to mull over my suggestion before nodding her head, "OK, but I'll pay for the petrol" she suggested. "Done. Let's go" I said pointing to my car.

The drive to her house was entertaining as we got to know each other better and sang along to the songs. We become concert buddies after that. I didn't really have many friends I could drag along to concerts anymore; having a friend made things much more exciting. She was a joy to have around and we shared the same bias for most groups we liked so it made stuff even more chaotic then they already were.

This went on for a couple more concerts until the latest one where I took the bus to the venue since my car broke down and a non-functioning vehicle was not about to stop me from seeing Enhypen. I met Hattie at the entrance who had been waiting for me. We hugged and grabbed some stuff from the stands outside and walked into the venue. The show was great, the fan service at K-Pop concerts was unmatched.

Hattie knew that my car had broken down and offered to drive me home as a pay back for the favour I had done at the start of our friendship. We were waiting outside for who I assumed was Hattie's mum but instead I was greeted by a tall pale Australian man, I knew more as Oscar Piastri, Formula One driver for McLaren. My jaw almost hit the floor before I caught myself and greeted the man before entering the car. "Hi, I'm Y/N." I said while climbing into the back seat while Hattie sat shot gun. "Hey, I'm Oscar" he said giving me a smile before he started the car.

Hattie kept looking back at me every time I sent a message. As soon as she read the last message, "Oscar, Y/N loves you" she laughed. Man, I hate the friends I have sometimes, I thought. Before my mind could react my body did, "No" I shouted. Oscar turned around to look at me, "no?" he asked. "I mean yes" I stammered. "yes?" he quizzed. "I mean, I love Formula One and since you're a Formula One driver that's why I asked her to ask if could get your autograph" I rambled. If the earth swallowed me whole, I don't think I would mind right now. I could hear Hattie snickering in the background.

The rest of the car ride had me sweating. Oscar dropped me off in front of my building; I bolted out of the door. "Don't you want that autograph?" Oscar shouted. I stopped dead in my tracks with slumped shoulders; if I'm going to embarrass myself, let's leave no stone unturned at this point. "Yeah, sure. I have some merch in my house you could sign" I mumbled walking back to the car. "Maybe you would like to join me for some tea" I offered. Hattie nodded along from inside the car and the three of us headed up. My house, I must've forgotten was not clean enough to be seen by anyone but me; I had to literally stop them, throw everything in the nearest closet and then open the door. I ran a kettle for hot water and asked them to sit on the sofa while I grabbed the Oscar Piastri hat and shirt I had bought recently. He graciously signed it for me and I handed them the cup of tea. "Your house is lovely" Hattie commented while looking around, "I don't see any of the albums or merch" she continued. "they're in my room" I said. "Must be fun explaining to the guys who come over" she spoke more to herself. "It's hilarious watching their reaction" Hattie added at Oscar's quizzical expression. "If you guys are done, would it be harsh to ask you to leave, I have an early shift tomorrow" I asked nervously. "No, thank you for the tea. We'll be leaving" Oscar said while lifting Hattie up. "I'm not leaving yet. I haven't seen your room" Hattie whined trying to get free from Oscar. "You know where she lives, come over at a more acceptable time." Oscar told her and dragged his sister away, "Good night Y/N" he called out as I closed the door.

Thank god she didn't see my room, I don't know how I would explain the Oscar Piastri poster I had above my bed and in my closet. My life got interesting to say the least.

Hattie and I weren't able to meet after since there weren't any concerts for a while but there was a Formula One race in a week. Hattie called me asking if I would like to join her family. I was more than grateful to be going because I got to see the race for free. God knows my saving's are crying.

I got dressed for the race and met them at the venue. It was the race day and the hustle and bustle at the paddock had adrenaline pumping through me. Hattie greeted me and introduced me to her family, 2 sisters and her parents who were very kind and welcoming. "It's nice to finally meet the girl who's accompanying our daughter to concerts and the subject of my child's interest" Nicole chimed extending her arm out. "It's so nice to meet you too Mrs Piastri" I said while shaking her hand. "You make me sound old, call me Nicole" she said. "What did she mean by the subject of my child's interest?" I whispered to Hattie. "Nothing" Hattie answered quickly. We walked in to McLaren to be greeted by Oscar and Lando. Starstruck was an understatement. After exchanging pleasantries and me asking for Lando's autograph and a picture with him and then tripping over the wire on the floor almost discharging vital piece of equipment found my way back to everyone and decided to sit in place. Oscar did ask if I was okay but I couldn't really focus on that since I keep embarrassing myself in front of him, of all the people.

The race ended with a pretty decent finish for Oscar that had all of us cheering. He came back to meet everyone after all the formalities and celebration. After a while we started to pack up to leave; "you should help Oscar pack up" Hattie said while making a quick exit with the family. "What? Why?" I asked but was ignored while everyone left. "Hi" a small voice came. "Hey, Oscar. Great race" I said trying to making things less awkward. "Thanks for coming" Oscar said. "Hattie said you guys had extra tickets and plus I couldn't say no to a race" I rambled. "Umm" he scratched the back of his neck, "there were no extra tickets, Lando lent me one of his so I could invite you" he said. "What? I'm so sorry for the trouble" I apologised. "What? No I mean, I wanted you to come...so I asked Lando for the extra ticket" Oscar corrected me. "You wanted me to come" I repeated. "This is so stupid" he muttered to himself. "Let's go, or we'll be late for dinner" Oscar said packing his stuff. "What dinner?" I asked. I was so lost, what was going on? "We're going out for a family dinner" Oscar stated. "You're going on a family dinner, I'm going home. I'm sure they must be waiting for you in the garage." I said grabbing my stuff. "They're not" Oscar lamented running a hand through his hair.

"I could drop you there if you would like" I offered. "No, I...ugh" Oscar sounded frustrated. "Is something wrong? Maybe I can get help" I suggested. Oscar looked at me with the softest puppy eyes, "I got tickets for you, specifically even though I didn't have one, I was ready to not have one of my sisters attend so that you could have a ticket" he said now staring at me. "I don't" I began. "Fuck, Y/N IthinkIlikeyou" he mumbled. "Oscar, I don't know what you said" I said. Lando peeped in, "This is getting frustrating, I thought it would be fun to watch but it's not. That muppet means he likes you, go out with him." Lando chimed. "You like me?" I asked shocked. Oscar just nodded his head slowly. "Put the kid out of his misery and go out with him. I don't think I can take pining Oscar any more or watch him stalk your Instagram profile" Lando quipped. "Can you shut up Lando?" Oscar glared. "I would love to go out with you Oscar" I cut them off; "really?" Oscar asked. "Yeah, I mean you are my favourite driver on the grid" I stated. "Really" Oscar shouted making me and Lando jump. "Let's go now" Oscar said while holding my hand and dragging me out.

[sabs-studyblr]

26.11.2024 | study date with two of my friends <3

✅ chapter of AP calculus (derivatives of exponential and logarithmic functions)

✅ turkish homework (because ms gurl keeps on giving 😔)

🎀 side note. i upgraded to ios 18 and why do i lowkey HATE ITTTT give me my phone back 😭

[twst-hottest-takes]

I honestly hate how the relationship between Jade and Floyd changed over time. At the start, they were inseparable amazing brothers, Jade literally skipping classes to take care of Floyd when he wasn't feeling well and Floyd only really listening to Jade (and Vil but that's neither here nor there). They were a trope we rarely see in fiction nowadays where siblings genuinely and unapologetically love each other and don't always bitch and fight. But over time, we moved away from that and now we're at "they can't be in the same room for too long without getting into bloody fights" (Stitch event) and "they find it fun to hurt each other" (honestly, many stories recently) and now in the stupid dream sequences, Jade suddenly sees Floyd as an idiot? Even though Jade was the biggest "Floyd is actually a genius" supporter since the start of the game? It feels like an American sitcom where the siblings just hate each other because that is The TropeTM.

That's very interesting now that you point it out.

I don't know if they just gave off a different impression at the start, but while the two of them have always been mildly antagonistic towards each other, (what siblings aren't) it does seem to have gotten worse lately--mostly on Jade's half if we're being honest. The last major interaction I recall is Jade trying to choke Floyd with popcorn, which is fine and funny as an isolated incident, but it's really not that isolated.

Yeah, I'd say it's become less endearing, which is sad because I've always thought a full on brawl between the twins would be entertaining and interesting. My desire to see that is only inversely proportionate to how likely it is to happen though. When it seems like they're at each other's throats more often than not it's less fun to think about and I just want to see them get along and be menaces to society whose chaos is exponentially worse when combined.

I don't know if there's some story reason like them not wanting to be lumped together as "the twins" or something, but I'd have to agree with Anon here. What I found most appealing was the idea that they are twins that aren't always treated as a unit and have their own characters, but still function as a double threat when given the chance because they actually do get along when it counts. I don't think they're as fun when they're regularly in sibling spat mode. I kinda miss their Beanfest vibe a lot.

Thank you for your take.

(Did the creators just suddenly really need to emphasize that Jade is the worse twin? Because it feels like they just decided they really wanted everyone to know that Jade is the one you should be more worried about.)

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, mild angst, new character appearance!!, nothing else this is pretty basic A/N: I promised myself I wouldn't leave you guys with the angst for too long (• ᴗ -) BUT that also doesn't mean it's gonna be an easy road from here for our gentle reader (hehe) and our dear Sukuna. also I had literally dreamt about their next interaction and how Sukuna would be acting... thus, sweaty and panicked Sukuna was born.

index part seven | part nine

part eight word count : 4,143

The next two days passed in a blur. You weren’t sure if it was the exponentially horrible hangover you had the morning after everything went down, or if your mind was simply protecting you from a harsher fate. Either way, you functioned on autopilot—work, home, sleep, repeat.  

Even Sukuna seemed to understand something you didn’t—his texts and calls had stopped within twenty-four hours. That silence should have been a relief, but instead, it felt like a hollow weight in your chest.  

By the third day, you were barely holding it together. Work felt like wading through wet cement, your mind constantly drifting despite your best efforts to stay focused. Everything around you seemed to move at normal speed while you felt stuck in place, every noise too loud, every task taking twice as long as it should.  

You kept your head down at your desk, ignoring the buzz of office chatter and the occasional concerned glance from your coworkers. You didn’t want their sympathy, didn’t want their questions. The last thing you needed was to explain why you felt like a walking corpse—why you hadn’t been able to sleep, why food tasted like nothing, why your stomach twisted every time you so much as glanced at your phone.  

The lack of messages from Sukuna should’ve made things easier, but instead, it gnawed at you. He hadn’t tried to reach out again. No texts, no missed calls. Just silence.  

Maybe this was his way of giving you space. Maybe… maybe he had finally decided you weren’t worth the effort.  

That thought made your chest ache in a way you hated to acknowledge.  

“Hey,” a voice broke through your daze, snapping you back to reality. You blinked up to see one of your coworkers—Mai, standing next to your desk with an arched brow. “You good?”  

You forced a tired smile. “Yeah. Just… long week.”  

Mai didn’t look convinced. “It’s Wednesday. You look like hell.”  

“Thanks,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.  

She leaned against your desk, arms crossed. “You’ve been weird the past few days. Not sleeping?”  

You sighed, debating how much to say. “Something like that.”  

Mai studied you for a beat, then shrugged. “Well, if you need to get some air, take a break or something. You’re not gonna get much done in this state.”  

You wanted to argue, but she wasn’t wrong.  

After a few more minutes of staring blankly at your screen, you finally caved and pushed away from your desk, grabbing your coat and stepping outside.  

The cool air hit you like a slap, but it helped—if only a little. You leaned against the wall of your office building, inhaling deeply and trying to shake the exhaustion that had settled into your bones.  

Then, almost out of habit, you reached for your phone.  

No new messages. No missed calls.  

Your chest squeezed. You’d thought maybe—just maybe—he’d break first.  

But he hadn’t.  

And somehow, that hurt more than you’d expected. 

Mai found you outside barely five minutes later, hands shoved into the pockets of her blazer, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Wow,” she said, stopping next to you and leaning against the wall, “you really are spiraling.”  

You let out a slow breath, watching it mist in the cool air. “I’m not spiraling,” you muttered, tucking your phone away before you could refresh your notifications for the hundredth time today. “Just… needed a break.”  

Mai scoffed. “Sure. And I needed a break from the incredible amount of work I’ve been avoiding.” She side-eyed you. “C’mon. I know what heartbreak looks like.”  

You stiffened at the word. “I’m not heartbroken.”  

Mai let out a sharp laugh, tipping her head back against the brick. “Uh-huh. Then why do you look like a walking funeral? And don’t tell me it’s just because of work—I know you, and I know that’s not what’s got you acting like a ghost.”  

You groaned, tilting your head back as if the sky might offer you some relief. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”  

“Yeah? Well, tough shit, ‘cause you look miserable, and I’m not gonna let you drag your sad ass through another eight hours of work looking like you just got hit by a truck.”  

You sighed, giving in because, really, Mai was relentless when she wanted to be. “It’s just…” you hesitated, rubbing your temple. “I had a thing with someone. It got… complicated. And now I don’t know where we stand.”  

Mai hummed, unimpressed. “Lemme guess. Some emotionally unavailable jackass who you thought had a soft side, but surprise—he’s just as messed up as you feared?”  

You groaned. “Not just messed up. He’s…” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “He’s someone with a past. A bad one. And I didn’t know how to deal with it when I found out.”  

Mai studied you for a beat. “So you bailed?”  

Your stomach twisted. “Not exactly. I panicked. I left before I could say something really stupid. And now…” You gestured vaguely at your phone, still sitting in your coat pocket like dead weight. “Now, I don’t know if I should reach out first, or if I just let this whole thing fall apart.”  

Mai clicked her tongue. “Alright, first of all, if he gave a shit, he’d have tried harder by now. No offense.”  

You winced.  

“But,” she continued, “I also know you, and you wouldn’t be this torn up over some random guy. So the real question is… do you still want him?”  

Your breath hitched.  

Did you?  

God, you wished the answer was easy. It would be so much simpler if you could just move on, pretend none of this mattered. But the ache in your chest, the way you still checked your phone, the way his absence felt wrong—it all told you the truth you were too scared to admit.  

Mai must have seen it on your face because she let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, okay. That’s what I thought.”  

You frowned. “That obvious?”  

“Painfully.” She shoved off the wall, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves. “So here’s the deal. You either text him and get it over with, or you stop acting like a lovesick idiot and move on.”  

You swallowed. “And what if I’m scared of what he’ll say?”  

Mai shot you a pointed look. “You should be scared if this guy is as bad as you say he is. But if he’s worth the trouble, then you also have to be brave enough to face him.”  

You exhaled through your nose. “I hate that you’re making sense.”  

Mai grinned. “It’s a gift.”  

She started toward the building, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “You coming?”  

You hesitated, glancing at your phone again. Your fingers itched to type something, to reach out, to bridge the silence. But your heart was still pounding, still uncertain.  

“…Give me a minute,” you murmured.  

Mai raised a brow, but she didn’t push. “Don’t be late,” she said, disappearing back inside.  

You stood there for another long moment, staring down at your phone, the screen still dark and empty.  

Then, finally, with a deep breath—you unlocked it. 

The rest of the workday dragged. No matter how much you tried to focus, your mind kept circling back to the same thoughts—Sukuna, the silence, what you should do next. You hadn’t told Mai whether or not you’d texted him, and she didn’t ask. Maybe she figured you needed time to decide. Or maybe she just assumed you were still being stubborn.  

By the time the day was finally over, you were exhausted—not from work, but from thinking too much. Your nerves felt stretched thin, and the weight of everything was pressing down on you harder than before.  

So when Mai popped up beside your desk as you were gathering your things and said, “C’mon, we’re going out,” you didn’t argue.  

“You’re dragging me out drinking on a weekday?” you asked, slinging your bag over your shoulder.  

“Absolutely,” Mai said without hesitation, already heading toward the door. “You need a break, and I need to watch you embarrass yourself after one too many drinks. It’s a win-win.”  

You rolled your eyes but followed her anyway.  

It wasn’t until you stepped outside and she led you down the familiar path that realization struck.  

“We’re going there?” you asked, stopping in your tracks.  

Mai barely glanced at you, unfazed. “Yeah. What, you suddenly hate our local bar?”  

Your stomach twisted. Our bar. The one right next to your office, the one where you had met Sukuna, where he had been waiting for you almost every night since that first meeting. Where he had always been, drink ready before you even sat down.  

You swallowed. “No, I just—”  

“Relax,” Mai cut you off, sighing dramatically. “If you’re worried about running into him, don’t be. If he shows up, great. If he doesn’t, even better—you’ll be too drunk to care.”  

You narrowed your eyes at her, but she just smirked and tugged you along.  

When you stepped into the dimly lit bar, it felt like something should have changed. Like maybe there should be some visible marker of the days that had passed, something to reflect the shift in your world. But everything looked the same. The same warm glow of the hanging lights, the same faint smell of whiskey and cheap beer, the same bartender who had probably already memorized your usual drink order.  

It was both comforting and disorienting.  

Mai led you to a booth in the corner, a little further away from the bar than you usually sat when Sukuna was here. She slid into the seat across from you, grabbing a menu just for show. “So, what’s it gonna be? Drowning your sorrows or just mild regret?”  

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “I think I’ll ease into it.”  

Mai smirked. “Boring, but fine. First round’s on me.”  

She waved over the bartender, ordering for both of you before leaning back against the seat. You could still feel the weight of the space around you—how familiar it was, how many memories were woven into this place.  

And yet, the one thing you were most used to seeing here was missing.  

You didn’t let your gaze linger on the door. Didn’t check for a familiar figure, didn’t scan the bar for a mop of pink hair and sharp eyes watching you from across the room.  

At least, you tried not to.  

Mai noticed. Of course she did. She sipped her drink, watching you over the rim of the glass. “So. How long are you gonna pretend you’re not hoping he walks in?”  

You froze mid-sip, then slowly set your drink down. “I’m not.”  

Mai arched a brow. “Liar.”  

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I don’t know what I want. I just… being here without him feels weird.”  

Mai hummed, swirling her glass. “Well, you could always change that. But hey, what do I know? I’m just the work friend forcing you to drink on a weekday.”  

You groaned. “You’re so annoying.”  

She grinned. “And yet, here you are.”  

You rolled your eyes but took another sip of your drink. Maybe she was right. Maybe you did need this. To take a step back, to breathe, to let yourself exist in this space without the weight of him pressing down on you.  

You were halfway through your second drink when the air in the bar shifted. It was subtle at first—a prickle at the back of your neck, a tension you could feel before you even saw him. Then Mai’s gaze flickered over your shoulder, her smirk sharpening, and you knew. 

You didn’t have to turn around. 

But you did. 

Sukuna stood just inside the entrance, breath uneven like he’d been moving fast. His usual cocky swagger was missing—his shirt was slightly rumpled, his hair a mess like he’d raked his hands through it a dozen times on the way here. His sharp crimson eyes landed on you instantly, dark with something intense, something unreadable. 

Your heart stuttered. 

You knew why he was here. You’d texted him. 

It had been impulsive—after your conversation with Mai, your fingers had moved before your brain could stop them. Just a single message, short and uncertain: 

"I don’t know if I’m ready to talk, but if you want to find me, I’m here." 

And now, here he was. 

Mai leaned back in her seat, sipping her drink as she watched the scene unfold. “Welp,” she muttered, clearly amused, “that didn’t take long.” 

You swallowed, gripping your glass tightly as Sukuna strode toward you. You expected anger, anticipated frustration, maybe even something bitter. But when he stopped in front of the booth and looked down at you, all you saw was exhaustion. 

“You have any idea how fucking hard you were to find?” he said, voice rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours. 

Your breath hitched. “You—” 

“I went to your office first,” he continued, jaw tight, “because I didn’t know if that text meant you actually wanted to see me, or if it was just some half-assed attempt at closure.” His fingers curled at his sides. “And when you weren’t there, I thought maybe you'd changed your mind.” 

A lump formed in your throat. 

Sukuna inhaled sharply, his shoulders rising, before exhaling through his nose. “So, I came here. Because of course you’d be here.” His lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, wasn’t quite a frown. “This bar is the only place I haven’t fucking ruined for you yet, right?” 

The words stung, because they were a little too close to the truth. 

Mai whistled lowly. “Well. That’s my cue.” She stood up, patting your shoulder. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me. But, uh, I won’t be hovering, because I really don’t want to be in the splash zone for whatever this is.” 

You barely registered her leaving. Your world had narrowed to just you and Sukuna. 

He was still standing, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table like he wasn’t sure whether to sit or keep pacing. You took a deep breath, gesturing to the seat across from you. 

“Sit,” you said, voice quieter than you intended. 

Sukuna hesitated for only a moment before sliding into the booth. He leaned forward, arms braced on the table, eyes locked onto yours like he was searching for something. 

For a long, tense moment, neither of you spoke. The words because of course you’d be here hung heavy in the air between you. 

Finally, he exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, princess,” he muttered, voice lower now, almost tired. “Because I’ve been going out of my fucking mind trying to figure out if you still want me in your life or if I’m just waiting around like a goddamn idiot.” 

Your chest tightened. 

Because despite everything, despite all the frustration, all the history, all the hurt—you did want him in your life. 

You just didn’t know how yet. 

You swallowed hard. “I don’t have all the answers yet, Sukuna.” 

His jaw tensed. “Then just tell me the truth.” His voice dropped, softer, raw. “Do you still want me here?” 

You gripped the edge of your glass, steadying yourself. Then, with a shaky breath, you met his gaze. 

“Yes.” 

Sukuna went still. 

Something unreadable flickered in his expression, his hands curling into fists against the table. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled—like he’d been holding his breath this whole time. 

“Good,” he murmured, his smirk returning, but this time, it was laced with relief. “Because I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway.” 

Sukuna had never looked nervous before. Not once, in all the time you’d known him. He was always sharp, cocky, unreadable—like nothing could ever shake him. But now, sitting across from you in the dim glow of the bar, he looked wrecked. 

His fingers tapped restlessly against his glass, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at you like you might disappear if he blinked too long. And maybe, in some way, he thought you would. 

You had been quiet since he'd sat down. Since he'd told you he had been looking for you. Since he'd made it clear that the second he saw your message, nothing else mattered. 

But none of that changed the reason you had left him behind in the first place. 

You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself. “I know what happened,” you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. “With her.” 

Sukuna stilled. His fingers stopped tapping, his smirk—what little there had been of it—faded entirely. 

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Didn’t even move. 

Then, finally, he exhaled sharply through his nose, tilting his head like he had already resigned himself to this conversation. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I heard that you did.” 

You felt something tighten in your chest. “That one night, you slept with her.” 

Sukuna’s eyes flickered to yours. He didn’t nod, but he didn’t need to. The answer was there, clear as day. 

“It was nothing,” he said, voice low, rough. “Just a one-time thing.” His fingers curled into a fist on the table. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. Didn’t even realize I had at first.” 

What did that mean? Your fingers curled around your glass, knuckles turning white. “But you did hurt her.” 

Sukuna exhaled heavily, running a hand down his face. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I did.” 

The confession sat heavy between you, like a weight pressing against your ribs. You had tried to prepare yourself for this. You had told yourself you needed the truth, no matter how ugly it was. But hearing it—actually hearing him say it—made something crack inside you. 

“She was in love with you,” you murmured. 

Sukuna scoffed. “She was in love with an idea of me.” 

“Does that make it better?” you shot back, your voice sharper than before. 

His gaze snapped back to you, and for the first time that night, you saw something flash across his face—something that almost looked like shame. 

“No,” he muttered. “It doesn’t.” 

You stared at him, heart pounding. Your emotions were a mess—anger, sadness, confusion, everything tangled into a storm that you couldn’t sort through fast enough. 

Sukuna must have seen it, because he leaned forward, his voice steadier now. “I never did it again,” he said. “Not before. Not after. Just that once.” His fingers drummed against the table. “And I regretted it the second she told me how I’d made her feel.” 

Your stomach twisted, bile rising in your throat. 

“That’s the part no one tells,” he continued, his voice rougher now. “That I did feel like shit. That I knew, the second it dawned on me, that I had fucked up. That she looked at me like I was a monster, and I couldn’t even fucking argue.” 

Your hands trembled. "Did you ever apologize?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

Sukuna’s expression flickered—something complicated, something raw. His jaw clenched, fingers drumming once against the table before he answered. You were scared to hear the answer. 

"I did." 

Your breath caught. 

"I went to her," he continued, voice rough, like the memory itself was something he had to force out. "A while after it happened. She didn’t want to see me. I don’t blame her for that." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "But I needed her to hear it. Even if she didn’t give a shit, even if she hated my guts—I needed her to know I was sorry." 

You swallowed hard. "What did you say?" 

Sukuna stared at his hands for a moment before meeting your eyes. "That I was a fucking idiot. That I hurt her, and I had no excuse for it. That it wasn’t just a mistake—it was a choice, and I made the wrong one." He inhaled, slow and measured. "That she didn’t deserve it. And that if she never wanted to see me again, I’d live with that." 

Your throat tightened. 

"She yelled at me for about an hour" he murmured. "I took every bit of it. In the end, we both agreed that’d we’d made mistakes. And with her being in love with my idiot half-brother, we wouldn’t be able to avoid each other forever – so we settled on just being friends." His fingers curled into a fist against the table. "And that was that." 

You let his words settle, feeling the weight of them press into your chest. It didn’t change what he had done. It didn’t erase it. 

But it meant something. 

You pressed your fingers against your temple, exhaling shakily. "I don’t know how to process this," you admitted. "I don’t know how to sit here and just pretend this isn’t… awful." 

Sukuna nodded once. "I don’t expect you to." 

Silence stretched between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. Your hands trembled slightly as you wrapped them around your glass, grounding yourself in the sensation of condensation against your skin. 

"I should leave," you murmured. Sukuna went still. 

But you didn’t move. Because despite everything screaming at you to run, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Sukuna didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you, his crimson eyes scanning your face like he was trying to figure out what you were thinking. Maybe even trying to prepare himself for the moment you finally got up and walked away.  

But you didn’t move.  

And maybe that was why, after a long, tense silence, he exhaled and did something you hadn’t expected.  

“There’s something else,” he muttered, voice lower now, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should even be saying it. “Something no one else knows.”  

Your brows furrowed, waiting.  

Sukuna leaned forward slightly, his fingers tracing patterns against the table, his gaze shifting to the side. “After it happened—after I saw the way she looked at me, after I realized what I’d fucking done—I didn’t just sit with it.” He hesitated for only a second before continuing. “I started therapy.”  

You blinked. “You what?”  

His lip curled, like the word itself tasted bitter in his mouth. “You heard me.”  The tone in his voice betrayed his feelings on the matter.

Of all the things you expected him to say, that wasn’t on the list. Sukuna—the man who carried himself like he was untouchable, who acted like the entire world bent around him—had gone to therapy?  

“For how long?” you asked cautiously, unsure of how to process this new piece of information.  

Sukuna let out a low breath. “Still going.”  

Your fingers tightened around your glass. “And no one else knows?”  

“Just Uraume.” His jaw worked slightly. “Not because I’m ashamed of it. I just…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t want it to feel like some kind of performance. Like I was only doing it to prove to people that I changed or some shit.”  

You studied him carefully, trying to pick apart his expression, to see him. This was the most vulnerable you had ever seen Sukuna — the most... human.  

It would have been easier if he had just been a monster. If he had denied everything, if he had refused to take responsibility, if he had been the irredeemable person you had been trying to tell yourself he was for the last few days.  

But instead, he had been quietly carrying this weight. 

“Why are you telling me this now?” you finally asked.  

Sukuna met your gaze, his own unreadable. “Because if I didn’t, you’d always wonder if I really changed. If I’m still that guy.” His fingers drummed against the table once before going still. “And I needed you to know that I never want to be that person again.”  

Something in your chest squeezed. Sukuna had changed. Maybe not entirely, maybe not perfectly, but he wasn’t that same man anymore.  

And now, sitting across from him in the dim glow of the bar where everything started, you weren’t sure what scared you more—accepting that, or figuring out what came next.  

You swallowed, voice softer now. “I don’t know where this leaves us.”  

Sukuna gave a small, humorless smirk. “Me neither.”  

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was still there, thick in the air between you, but it wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t fear.  

Finally, Sukuna sighed, leaning back in his seat. “So,” he muttered, glancing at your nearly empty drink, “you gonna let me buy you another round or what?”  

A slow breath escaped you.  

And for the first time in days, you didn’t feel like running. 

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊

taglist : @mangiswig @sorahatake @osohchoso @clp-84 @sterzin @csolya @emochosoluvr @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine

[mariacallous]

Assailants firebombed a synagogue in a Montreal suburb for the second time in just over a year, the latest in a series of attacks on Canadian Jewish institutions since Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, invasion of Israel.

As in the other recent attacks on Canadian Jewish sites, no one was injured in the incident.

Mordecai Zeitz, the emeritus rabbi at Congregation Beth Tikvah, a modern Orthodox synagogue in the suburb of Dollard-des-Ormeaux, said the congregants met for morning prayers on Wednesday morning outside the synagogue.

“We were able to recite the morning prayers in an abbreviated way,” he said.”We did not close even if we had to go outside to avoid the fires on the inside, but we had the fires of Jewish identity and Jewish pride very much front and center, in front of the charred doors of the synagogue,” Zeitz told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Police told the Montreal Gazette there were no injuries and that witnesses reported seeing a suspect at the site prior to the arrival of police. The building suffered minor smoke damage in addition to its front glass shattering.

Assailants tossed a firebomb at the same synagogue in November 2023 just weeks after Hamas’ invasion, which launched Israel’s multi-front war. There have been a number of similar attacks on Canadian Jewish institutions since then, including shots fired at Jewish schools. In August, bomb threats were sent to dozens of Jewish institutions across Canada.

This week’s attack also comes after a violent pro-Palestinian demonstration in Montreal in late November where protesters burned Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in effigy. And it comes roughly two weeks after an Australian synagogue was firebombed.

Zeitz said the damage was limited to the shattered glass and to the vestibule, and that he expected services to be held inside on Wednesday evening. The synagogue was inviting non-congregants to attend a solidarity Shabbat service on Saturday morning, he said, noting that the day school attached to the building had stayed open and functioning.

“We are never out of business,” he said.

B’nai B’rith Canada called on the authorities to do more to stem the violence.

“This is a terrifying reminder that Montreal is increasingly unsafe for Jewish people,” the synagogue’s cantor, Henry Topas, said in a statement.

“This is the result of the failure of leaders at all levels to hold accountable those responsible for the hate and violence that is infesting Canadian society,” said Topas, who is  also B’nai Brith Canada’s regional director for Quebec and Atlantic Canada. “Specifically, Mayor Valerie Plante must act now to stop the exponential rise in hate and antisemitism which she has permitted to get out of control in Montreal.”

Plante and Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau condemned Wednesday’s attack and vowed to track down the perpetrators.

“This vile antisemitic attack against Montreal’s Jewish community is cowardly and criminal,” Trudeau tweeted. “I trust the perpetrators behind this hateful act will be quickly brought to justice.”

Plante wrote on social media that “antisemitic actions are criminal actions,” adding, “It is intolerable that citizens of Montreal should live in insecurity because of their faith.”

[morethanthatfic]

Hey, I love your content! I also think it’s amazing that Jim and Pam have an entire fanfiction site just for them! Are you the only person running this account, or is it a group of people? Have you been here since The Office was airing? If so, was there already this hate towards Pam or Jim and Pam back then? Because I get the feeling that things got worse after the pandemic, like someone influential said something negative about them, and that opinion started spreading... Unfortunately, I was one of those who watched the show after the pandemic, but it feels like things were calmer around here before. It’s so sweet to know you’ve been around for so long!

Hello! This tumblr is pretty much one person, I go by NobleLandMermaid on the MoreThanThat archive. The archive was established the summer between Seasons 2 and 3, and I joined it pretty early on when I started watching the show. After several years I came back to the site and (somewhat accidentally) became the main mod in 2016. At that time, The Office was seeing a massive popularity revival on US Netflix, but the MTT archive was in a state of disrepair and on the verge of shutting down. After many nights basically teaching myself to code I got MTT functional again and set out to find an audience via social media, starting a Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr and Facebook account.

Instagram was definitely MTTs most successful account, at the peak it had ~24k followers. I found some great fans and fellow Office-account runners there. I also found a lot of hate for Jim and Pam, especially Pam. My JAM memes would get reposted and when I looked at the comments it would be so much animosity against Pam and by extension Jenna. Saw Pam get called a "succubus" more than once.

There's always been JAM hate but it definitely increased exponentially when The Office got so popular again on Netflix in the mid 2010s. I personally feel like the Pam hate was at its apex in 2018-2020. There was a certain popular sports caster who had a very intense hatred of Pam he shared often (to the point that even his fans were getting "you okay bro?" about it) and I credit a lot of Pam-hatred to that. There was an Instagram-famous poster who made an inescapable "Pam: Villain" meme and later some "Roy did nothing wrong" memes that even David Denman was playing up. Chrissy Teigan started some "Jim and Pam are probably divorced" discourse (though that was more Pam-neutral and it did get both John and Jenna to make "nah they're definitely still together" statements). But just generally it was a tough time to be a JAM-lover.

All that said, that may have just been when I was the most active on social media and saw it the most. My initial reaction was to respond, "you're wrong and here's why!" to negative JAM/Pam comments. But eventually I just had to pull back from the comment sections, mute/block accounts or commenters that were excessively JAM-negative and stick mostly to the MTT corner of the Office fandom (and MTT saw a fanfic renaissance with the pandemic, so it was easy to just exist in that bubble).

Now, Tumblr and the semi-private Discord are the only MTT social media I keep active, The Office Ladies podcast accounts are just about the only fandom-accounts I follow and engage with, and I steer clear of JAM discourse most everywhere else because I know it's only going to make me mad. So I can't say if it's worse now. I will say when I do run into JAM disk horse, it's at least more equal in hating on both Jim and Pam, whereas before it felt like for every "Jim sucks" post or comment there were twenty "Pam: worst person in the world ever??" comment. So progress??

I bring this post up almost every time I talk about fandom but it just continues to be true that you gotta curate your own experience, find your kindred fans and block 2/3rd of the rest at minimum.

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

I generally avoid posting about it, but my god I hate my depression days. It feels like my body itself is having a hormonal tantrum where I feel like shit and I'm losing my ability to write enjoy things that gets exponentially worse as time goes on until it hits rock bottom.

and then I'm fine.

and it's like "Oh? Are you done? Are we able to function now?" and I am but I sit through the whole day not really understanding what's going on with me until I start having the really unusual thoughts of quitting college and being a disappointment. Only then do I think "Oh yeah, this is one of those days."

Blegh.

[contentloadingandstuff]

I PASSED MATHS BOYZ!

My lovely teacher decided that you can't pass if you have more than a single 1 (F in the English grading system) in the whole year. This meant that, even if my grades were more than enough to pass, I wasn't qualified in his "system". After taking three tests and passing them, I can finally rest easy, knowing that I won't ever have to see him again after the 26th of April. I can confidently say that this year's maths was a complete nightmare. Every function (square, logarithmic, exponential and linear), sequences, probability, the "basics" of statistics and stereometry can kiss me goodbye. I hate you, maths, you harlot of the sciences, used by everything else as they please. You are a hammer. One does not study the hammer, one uses it and puts it away once it fulfills its function. The same goes for you. I will burn the notebooks and the books that are outdated anyway, nobody will buy them. Or better. I will recycle them so that your bs might turn into something useful and desirable, like a cup or toilet paper.

See you never!

[copperbadge]

Have we found a tumblr replacement yet? Apparently the latest “live” shenanigans were the thing that it took to break me. I’m not trying to stir shit, I’m just mostly here for you and a couple other blogs, so I’m going wherever you go.

I wish, but unfortunately not so far. I mean, I've talked a little about how I'd like to find one but there aren't really any viable ones right now, and there may not be a fandom mass-migration for years still. I'm more likely to follow the crowd than blaze a trail in this case, so it may be some time. For now my only real tactic is to simply not engage with staff or support at Tumblr in any way, and accept the changes as gradual steps towards the site's demise with as much serenity as I can muster.

I've already accidentally opened Tumblr Live twice while trying to navigate the app, which I'm sure is intentional, given I've now suddenly opened Tumblr Live twice since its inception instead of Zero. Relatedly, I would love to see them redirect that passion into making the "Mute Notifications" button actually work, but mine is not to reason why.

Anyway. There are options available, like obviously there are other social media platforms, but none have quite the combination of "easy to use" and "has a lot of people on it" and "Offers the same functionality" (photo and video hosting, an app, etc) even with an "ease of use" and "functionality" that are as crap as Tumblr's.

For example, Dreamwidth is great, but it's a Livejournal code fork so it's a very different format from Tumblr, more labor-intensive to make and share posts (no reblog function, image embedding can get a bit complicated, etc). CoHost is new and very promising but a bit of a ghost town right now -- I'm there and I've had a bunch of people find me there but still exponentially less than are on Tumblr. Pillowfort I still need to re-investigate; I'm there as well but it's been a while since I looked in, and I was struggling with the functionality previously. I had a look at Mastodon, but as positive as decentralized servers could be for the future of social media, I actively dislike the idea, and it also seems difficult to set up and complex to maintain. Discord is....there, and a lot of fandom stuff has shifted there, but its structure is very different and it's also decentralized, and also I hate it passionately and refuse to use it, so that's a no-go for me, though I suspect it's where fandom might end up.

If you're struggling with accessing tumblr directly, you might consider feeding the blogs you follow to an RSS reader -- I know people who do that and find it pretty functional, because then if they want to comment they can just pop open the specific post and deal with it directly. I don't know how much you know about RSS and I don't have the energy to fully explain it right now, but NetVibes is a pretty decent free RSS reader and it's what I use for certain blogs outside of Tumblr.

In any case, if I do find a place, or if I see the migration beginning, I'll sound the alarm :) In the meantime I'm still reading through my tumblr, stashing away posts to save off when I leave, even if that'll be a while.

[the-way-astray]

Wrote a strie(efe) fic enjoy it. It's called Sixteen Months

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stria was minding her own business, walking down the street, when she spotted Keefe talking to Katie. Great. Her two least favorite people in the world.

Well, that wasn't fair to Katie. Katie was only occasionally bad. Keefe, on the other hand? That was a whole other level of hatred.

Stria was going to simply be on her way, but then remembered that Keefe talking to Katie could NOT be good. So she walked over to the two of them and overheard their conversation.

"Are you telling me what to do with my life?" Keefe was asking.

"No, of course not. That would ruin the experiment."

"You're demanding for me to participate in an experiment."

"I'm not demanding anything from you," Katie countered. "The experiment is ongoing and I never asked for your cooperation, I just did it. The fact that you figured that out is not my problem."

"You're stalking me!"

"It's not stalking if you're fictional."

Stria decided she needed to get Keefe and Katie away from each other ASAP. This was a recipe for disaster.

Sixteen Months Later

"But... what about Isa?" Stria sputtered.

"Oh, yeah." Katie laughed nervously. "Me and Isa are actually the same person. I just put on a wig to be her, and all our text conversations are fake. I just liked the idea of having a cognate. But I mean it when I say I love you."

"Why would you love me?" Stria asked. "You love Keefe, and I hate him."

"You don't, though," Katie said knowingly. "After all this time, I've seen how you've softened to us both. You've fallen for both of us."

"I have not!"

"Not even me?"

Stria gritted her teeth. "Okay, fine. Maybe I've developed feelings for you. But it would never work out."

"Why?"

"Because we always end up fighting over Keefe!"

"I have a feeling that won't be much of an issue anymore," Katie said. "You're telling me all this time you've spent realizing you like me, you haven't realized you like Keefe? Not even a little?"

"No," Stria said. It was the fastest answer, though there was more nuance. Katie wasn't wrong when she said Stria softened towards him.

"Fine then. Does THIS fix that?" Katie pulled a booklet out of her pocket. On the front cover it read, 16 Things I Love About Stria by Keefe Irwin Sencen. "He even included his middle name so it would be sixteen letters," she pointed out. "And it's sixteen pages."

Katie made a compelling argument.

"I do love the number sixteen."

"Then why don't you read this?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stria, Katie, I'm sorry, it's for the bit

i, stria sixteen, hereby give "sixteen months" anon (and any following anons and non-anons) permission to call the ship between stria sixteen, kathryn myfairkatiecat, and keefe irwin sencen "katrieefe" instead of "strie(efe)"

katie is nowhere near my least favorite person in the world

"katie was only occasionally bad" LMFAOOOO

correct i hate keefe way more than katie

oh boy this is gonna be a fic where katie stalks keefe and then collects a truly ridiculous amount of data on him, isn't it. i can smell those ones a mile out

how did keefe figure out katie was stalking him. i know i joked about her breaking into his house and him catching her but let's be so honest. realistically katie would not be caught by keefe if she was trying to gather data on him

be right back, i'm going to go tie katie and keefe to opposite sides of a room

i see this anon is a stanch proponent of the katie-is-isa theory. did they see that horrific comic sans presentation

sixteen months would make me hate keefe more, not less. think of my hatred toward his as an exponential function

why are there love confessions already. i know it's been sixteen months but like. it's not enough

"maybe i developed feelings for you" i'm going to pass out. or maybe pass away

I WOULD NOT SOFTEN TOWARD KEEFE

"katie made a compelling argument" she did not make a compelling argument. she just said a bunch of sentences that contain the word sixteen. this is not an argument that would work on anyone that's not me. unfortunately it is me therefore it works

EVEN IF IT'S FOR THE BIT YOU NEED TO PAY FOR MY THERAPY

@myfairkatiecat there's more of them

[springagainafter]

Ran into a new favorite bit of dialogue in this particular conversation; also Rook finally gets to yell at the person he's been furious at for what feels like days. (The American male Rook VA did a great job here).

You know what this whole conversation reminds me of?

Solas is all "you're as surprising as ever" and "Even I could not have escaped that prison. For you to manage it...."

And then Rook immediately swore at him.

Solas: I understand your anger.

Okay, that deserves a right hook to the jaw.

Rook: You killed Varric! He tried to talk to you, and you killed him!

(I am sooooooo happy that Rook gets to yell at Solas like this; he was visibly seething in the pre-Minrathous team meeting and kind of had to lock all that righteous wrath down to be able to function/avoid taking it out on his friends and now here Solas is! LET'S GO.)

Solas: Whether I intended it or not, Varric's death is my responsibility.

He is SUCH a weasel.

"Whether I intended it or not" like he somehow stabbed him accidentally and then accidentally did nothing to fix that.

Rook: You did something to my mind to make me keep seeing him.

Go, Rook, go!

Solas: Yes. I was wrong to do so.

Which, surprise, did not stop him from doing it.

Rook: You knew Varric was dead the whole time, but you kept pushing me not to see it. Why? How?

(I think Rook will be fine, eventually, but that's....that's a lot to deal with for quite a while. Varric being dead would be messy and painful enough just by itself and everything Solas did just made it exponentially worse.)

Solas: I was desperate. Unless I escaped, the world would fall to tyranny and blight. Solas: The only tool I had was my tenuous connection to you.

Rook snarled "Blood magic" (which he hates) and Solas just was all "As I said, I was wrong."

I don't think Rook connects the dots on it until later, but because of how Solas set up the Veil originally, the only solution to the problem of "how do we keep the Veil up" turns out to be "use blood magic by getting Solas's blood on the lyrium dagger somehow."

So that's fun! That's an additional kick in the teeth because Rook has to do something he has made a point of not doing for years!

Rook: I knew you'd turn on me.

Solas betraying them absolutely got brought up in a team meeting and he was all "oh, yeah, Solas is definitely gonna stab us in the back" which sadly did not help with avoiding Fade prison. Or blood magic.

Rook: All that big talk about freedom and justice, but when it counts, you're not better than Elgar'nan.

Solas was all "I know!" at that and then rambled about how he'd betrayed Rook because "I believed only I could save this world" and how he's failed at stopping at Elgar'nan and how the victories that have been won against the other two gods since the ritual "are yours, not mine."

are you SERIOUS

(I do love that all the dialogue options here really are variations of "are you SERIOUS?")

(I mean, I didn't hear an apology anywhere in there but maybe he thinks "I was wrong" is Solas-speak for an apology).

Solas: I know. I cannot change the past--

Rook cut him off here with my new favorite bit of dialogue!

LOL

(Solas doesn't reply but his answer would of course be "dumber than me," which is deeply irritating to Rook but turns out great because it means Solas underestimates him).

Rook: The best possible version of this is that we kill Elgar'nan...And then you finish your ritual and drown the world in demons.

Rook's deeply skeptical faces during and after this little speech are so fun.

SUCH A WEASEL.

(A big part of why Rook's going to make the choice he does later is because Solas makes this dramatic vow on everything he holds sacred and then absolutely shatters it when he tries to finish taking down the Veil after Elgar'nan dies).

Rook: *is deeply skeptical*

Solas was all "come with me and I'll show you what's been stopping me and you can tell me your plan" and now it's reluctant teaming-up-with-Solas time.

(Oh, that's fun - his line here changes depending on what Rook says earlier. Also, that probably deserves a right hook to the jaw too).

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

tgr live journal - ch 14-15

my reactions as i read tgr

(all chapters)

tgr live - ch 14-15

hmmm the story far.... our heroes have a supportive friendship and count each other among the various people they find attractive

but do they answer each other's needs?

what DO they need?

Jean is 19, breathing (and a scorpio), so i'm sure he's got no problem with sensation for sensation's sake. But he has the soul of a poet in there somewhere, and he knows love is real, even without book or movies, because he saw it, every day, right under his nose

i think that's really why Zane's story is so important to me. however broken he has become I feel he is essential to Jean's healing...

what part of Jean doesn't like being in boxes do you not understand

Jean respects authority

Jean doesn't like rebellion

hmm

has Jean met Neil

so cute that Jeremy worries he's prickteasing Jean

... you do know he's French, right?

LOLLLL what did i just tell you

au revoir Jeremy's executive functions

hey wait a minute - remember how the Foxes all pestered Neil to bring a date to the banquet? Shouldn't Jeremy have pressured Jean to bring a nice bit of arm candy? That's not very captainy of you Jere

what did you do to White Ridge's captain's career and reputation - did you out him as a druggie?

was he your dealer?

why didn't you get dragged down too?

who are the other teams at the banquet?

is one of Jean's now-graduated tormentors here as a coach or something

No really, go crazy with Ivan, yolo

Captains leader board:

Riko hookup count: 1 confirmed

Jere hookup count: half a dozen confirmed, unconfirmed number is unknown but assumed to be a large integer raised to an even larger exponential power

why do they even call these things banquets, why don't they just call them what they are - the Jerry Springer Show But With Nice Suits

hmm so it WAS a sex scandal, of course it was a sex scandal, it's Nora

cocaine, how 80s

you want sympathy for cocaine addiction? you think you know addiction?? HAVE YOU EVER READ AFTG?????

i love how literally EVERYBODY believes in Perfect Court, it's like Oz

am I the only one maliciously enjoying all the sins of Jeremy's sexual past coming back to haunt him all at once

i've been at parties like this but it's funny when it happens to someone else

Jean's determined to confiscate at least one cigarette packet this season

i don't think Jean's a prude by nature, Jeremy, and he should be well aware of your sluttiness by now

just tell him, whatever it is I guarantee he's heard so very much worse

stop saying 'another team arrived' in this foreboding manner

is it Montana

oh good we're back to Jeremy's love life, sponsored by the BMW motor company. BMW, the ultimate driving machine. More power, less consumption. The new X5 is stronger and quieter than ever!

Jeremy has a type and it's wankers

I hate how very clear my mental picture of Ivan is

Jeremy you delectable morsel. please use a fucking condom.

choking is extremely dangerous btw

the neck is a tricky area... very fine line between ok and too late to say sorry

oh Laila. how's he going to fuck someone who respects him when he doesn't respect himself?

whoa

ok so we always knew it was going to be drugs or suicide or sex scandal... the only thing we got wrong was the 'or'

and somehow this is STILL not in the top 5 most shocking things to happen so far

Jeremy - I got raided by the police in the middle of a depraved cocaine-fuelled gay orgy that destroyed the careers of dozens of my peers and claimed the life of my baby brother

Jean - ok

Jeremy - I'm also studying to go to Harvard Law School

Jean - OH MY GOD THE BETRAYAL I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU ANYMORE

totally boss move to round off the scandal of the decade with an advertisement for your oral skills Jeremy - that's the kind of genius that just cannot be taught

ironically a depraved cocaine-fuelled gay orgy would have done absolute wonders for Jean's previous captain

and speaking of... how the hell was Riko not exploiting this scandal at every opportunity??

did he not know?

oh gods

i just thought of an even better question

... does Kevin know?

---

maybe Kevin did know...

was he encouraged by the idea that you could fail to save someone

and still be someone worth saving?

(< prev, next >)

[big-robot-fan]

Sirius spends weeks, months even, training Polaris' AI. He taught it to read, write, speak, walk, run, everything it would need to know to be a person. He taught it all the sciences, mathematics, and terminology she would-it would need to be his assistant. It would pick up on all of his mannerisms and habits. His cold and calculating demeanor and the short fuse hiding within. His affinity for half-truths or complete silence instead of outright lies. Like a child to their parent.

There's no way she it would like Blaze, no way Blaze would like her it.

Starline added a reset function for this exact scenario. But as he sat in his laboratory late at night, staring at the reset screen, a single press away from erasing Polaris' entire personality, he was frozen. He couldn't do it. Polaris was sentient, alive. It was his masterpiece, his pride and joy. She was his daughter. If her and Blaze didn't get along, then so be it.

The next morning, Sirius messaged Blaze telling her to come to his lab. It was the moment of truth. Blaze prepared herself as much as possible. She knew what to say, what to do, she even wore her best dress and makeup. She opened the lab door and-

"P-p-pretty..." was the first thing she immediately said upon seeing Polaris. It was embarrassing. Blaze thought she was prepared, she knew what Polaris looked like, she literally designed her, but something about seeing Polaris in motion made her exponentially more beautiful.

"Thank you. I suppose. " spoke the machine in a completely monotone voice. "Father, is this the woman you called over to guide me through a tour of the palace?"

"Father?" Blaze pondered. "I suppose it makes sense. Sirius did create her, so he would be her 'father'"

"There you are, Princess Blaze. I see you've already introduced yourself to Polaris" greeted Sirius.

"She did not." Interrupted Polaris, "She merely called me pretty and has otherwise been silently staring at me."

Blaze tried to compose herself. "I-I am Blaze Soleanna, h-heiress of the Sol Empire. Y-your father has asked for me to g-guide you through our palace." Keyword being "Tried."

"For a princess, you are terrible at public speaking. Your stutter is almost as bad as your manners. Let us hope you don't have to take the throne anytime soon." Rudely commented Polaris, monotone as ever.

Sirius interjected, "I'm sorry about her comments. She has no experience speaking to the royal family. She needs to learn that it is quite rude (and ill-advised) to insult royalty."

Blaze didn't hear a word Sirius had said over the sound of her own heartbeat. Nobody had ever spoken to her like Polaris did. As royalty, she was usually given compliments, often of questionable legitimacy, but never insults. Such brutal honesty was new, exciting, and made Blaze fall even more in love with Polaris.

"Let's get this tour started, shall we?" continued Sirius. "Have fun, you two!"

The tour itself went... interestingly. Polaris proved that she could speak politely to the other royals, but when the subject turned to Blaze herself, she was as brutally honest as in the lab. It was starting to get Blaze hot under the collar, figuratively and literally. What made her so special to Polaris? Did Polaris like Blaze too much to lie or hate her enough to insult her despite her royal status?

By the end of the day, Blaze was stiff as a board and incredibly embarrassed, while Polaris seemed to remain confusingly ambivalent.

That night, Blaze, Sirius, and Polaris laid awake thinking about the days events. Blaze couldn't believe how oddly good it felt to be insulted to her face. Sirius was stressed because he was wondering if Polaris' behavior could get him fired, or worse. Polaris was wondering why she enjoyed watching Blaze get embarrassed so much, scanning through the royal and scientific archives for the definitions of terms like "cute," "embarrassment", and "love" for some sort of common factor.