#computer run program ( .｡.:*☆ ic. )

[johnnyshrine]

★ 148 // “Tux Paint”

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #1

Don’t get me wrong—I love DP X DC, but I want more post for DP X Marvel, so I decided to write my own.

Danny had been in Amity Park, dodging international press, paparazzi, and the occasional FBI van parked outside his house, because, well, saving the world and exposing the existence of ghosts kind of made him a big deal. The whole “I’m actually Phantom” reveal had sent the world into a meltdown, with headlines like “Teen Ghostboy Saves Earth, Wears Same Hoodie for Six Days” and “Should Phantom Pay Taxes?” clogging up the internet.

That’s when Tony Stark showed up.

In person.

“You ever consider switching teams?” Tony asked while eating a hotdog in Danny’s kitchen like he owned the place. “I don’t mean ghost to human. I mean ghost to Avenger.”

Danny, halfway through microwaving leftover pizza, blinked. “Is this a recruitment thing or are you just lost?”

“A little of both.” Tony admitted. “I’ve got a proposition for you. Comes with a full scholarship, housing, no taxes, and a lifetime supply of Pop-Tarts.”

“…Okay but like. Why Pop-Tarts?”

“I have a theory about your ghost metabolism and artificial preservatives.” Tony said, waving his hand like it was normal science and not the start of an exorcism. “Anyway. Stark Industries internship. Full ride to Midtown School of Science and Technology. We pretend this is for science—understanding ghosts and ectoplasm and your stupid glowy ice powers or whatever—and I get to say I recruited the coolest teen superhero before the other billionaires.”

“You just don’t want me joining Batman.” Danny muttered.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say the B-word in my presence.”

So that’s how Danny Fenton—Amity Park’s favorite undead menace—ended up in New York City, living in a swanky Stark-funded high-rise with a fully stocked lab, an entire ghost-proof gym, and a contract that explicitly stated “NO OPENING INTERDIMENSIONAL PORTALS BEFORE 9AM” in Comic Sans.

Midtown High was wild. First of all, every student looked like they either had a skincare sponsorship or fought crime on the weekends. Second, the STEM program had actual quantum computers. Danny’s old school had a vending machine that exploded if you pressed B5 twice.

Third: Peter Parker.

Danny met him on his first day, right after being hit by a rogue drone in robotics class and slamming face-first into a whiteboard that read “No running in the lab.”

Peter looked down at him. “You good, man?”

Danny blinked. “Spider-Man?”

Peter blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Danny smirked. “Uh-huh. Tony says hi.”

Peter yanked him up by the arm and shoved him into a janitor’s closet so fast it could’ve given someone whiplash.

“Shh!” Peter exclaimed. “You can’t just say that out loud! People don’t know!”

Danny shrugged, now intangibly phasing halfway through a mop bucket. “Relax. Everyone already knows I’m Phantom. It’s not like we’re on equal secret identity footing here.”

Peter blinked at that. “Wait, you’re Phantom? Like THE Phantom?”

Danny stuck his head through the wall dramatically. “Boo.”

Peter shrieked and punched him. Which didn’t work. At all. From then on, they were inseparable.

Mostly because Tony made them sit next to each other at every Stark-sponsored science conference with assigned seating and a label that said “Teen Angst Section.” But also because they kind of understood each other. Weird powers. Exhausting double lives. Constant media attention. Love lives that were mostly disaster zones.

Also, because every time there was an emergency in New York, Danny would dramatically yell, “I GOT THIS!” turn into a glowing ghost, phase through the ceiling, and leave Peter holding their science project like, “Great. Now I have to explain this to Ms. Warren.”

There was a running bet in the school on how many times a week Danny would ghost out during class. The record was four times in a single Monday. Once during math. Twice during lunch. Once mid-presentation, when his eyes flashed green, and he mumbled, “Hold up, I think a ghost just tried to eat a nun,” before vanishing.

He got an A. Mostly out of fear.

They became known around Midtown as “Science Boyfriends,” a term coined by their English teacher after they accidentally blew up the chemistry lab and rebuilt it with better airflow and a smoothie bar.

Peter tried to deny it. Danny didn’t.

“I mean, he’s cute.” Danny would shrug while eating a granola bar and floating upside-down. “And have you seen his calves? Spider thighs? Man’s got spider thighs.”

Peter threatened to web his mouth shut. Danny turned intangible and said “do it, coward.”

Happy Hogan was having a mental breakdown.

“Mr. Stark.” He said once, after catching Danny phasing through a vending machine and Peter falling out of a ceiling vent. “They’re going to destroy the school.”

“They’re already destroying my will to live.” Tony muttered, sipping coffee while watching Phantom carry Spider-Man bridal-style on a street livestream. “But you can’t deny the brand synergy.”

And oh, the public loved Danny.

Kids wore Phantom backpacks. There was a whole TikTok trend called “Go Ghost Challenge” which was just teens flinging themselves over furniture in hopes of catching flight. People stopped him on the street for selfies. A company released a Ghost Repellent Spray that was literally just Febreze with a green label.

Meanwhile, Danny and Peter were balancing AP Physics, ghost attacks, Stark internships, and trying to keep a low profile despite Danny being literally neon.

Peter was this close to combusting.

“I can’t keep doing this.” Peter whispered during lunch, forehead pressed against a table. “My GPA is dying. I’m dying. My soul is cracking. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Danny, completely fine, sipping chocolate milk through a straw, replied, “I think a banshee tried to possess the home ec teacher.”

Peter stared. “… Danny.”

“Her cupcakes were glowing.”

“DANIEL JAMES!”

It didn’t help that the media kept speculating if Phantom was dating Spider-Man. There were articles like “Who’s the Top Ghost? Our Editors Discuss” and “Teen Heroes: Roommates or Soulmates?” Danny read them out loud during lunch.

Peter screamed into a burrito.

And then there was that time someone tried to kidnap Peter during gym class. Bad idea. Danny turned invisible, slammed the guy through the bleachers, and then flew Peter to safety in front of the entire school.

“You didn’t have to carry me!” Peter hissed later. “I had it under control.”

“You were duct-taped to a chair.” Danny pointed out.

“I was about to chew through the tape!”

“Like a squirrel.”

“Like a spider!”

After that, it wasn’t just the school that shipped them. The city did. There were shirts. Stickers. Fanfiction. Someone made a rap.

Tony started selling merch.

“We’re not even dating!” Peter yelled one afternoon, dodging a drone with their faces painted on it.

Danny just winked. “Yet.”

And honestly? They made a good team.

When ghosts got loose, Danny handled the supernatural. When aliens showed up, Peter webbed ‘em to the nearest wall. When things exploded, they blamed Flash Thompson.

Midtown might have been chaos. Their lives might have been actual flaming garbage fires. But in the middle of it all, Danny and Peter were the weirdest, most terrifying, most effective duo the teen superhero world had ever seen.

One had ghost lasers.

The other had web shooters.

Both had the fashion sense of stressed-out raccoons.

And somehow, they made it work.

Until Danny accidentally opened a portal to the Ghost Zone during prom. But that’s a story for another day.

[kr-starz]

Modern Highschool Arcane AU headcanons !!

(Vi & Jinx)

Jinx and Vi are still teenagers, their age gap would be like 3 years in this AU, so when it's Jinx's freshman year Vi's already a Senior.

People were genuinely surprised finding out the little chaotic science geek and the sports-minded athlete were SISTERS since they were so different friend group and personality wise.

(Cait & Vi)

Vi is a jock! She does winter wrestling and she's the best in her weight group. She's also involved in fall and spring sports. Baseball and football are her other seasonal sports.

People know Vi to be just a sports junkie, she has pretty good grades but nothing exceptional.

She's not so great at science , which forces her to be tutored.

Vi and Cait met in their sophomore year, she needed some help improving her grade in order to be eligible for the spring season sports since she was failing history at the time, so Caits assigned to help her out.

Caitlyn’s a goody two shoes icl, like she’s apart of the student council and her mom’s the superintendent. She’s in ROTC and she’s so very loud about it, she’s basically the FACE of the program.

Cait and Vi get close because Vi keeps seeing Caitlyn around and she’s become sort of a hallway crush, but with her fuckboy attitude Vi tries to flirt the second she realizes that she’s somehow managed to get Caitlyn as her tutor!

Cait is used to people flirting with her, she usually brushes it off since she’s a man magnet. Vi on the other hand, is weirdly making her flustered? It’s strange, really.

Cait and Vi start getting closer and eventually start dating the year after.

(Ekko & Jinx)

Ekko and Jinx are the same age but Ekko's older by a few months so he brags about it.

Ekko D&D nerd. He dragged Jinx into it, she only complied since Ekko asked so nicely (he threatened her kindly)

Jinx isn’t into extracurriculars, did track in middle school so she’s exceptionally fast and she’s in the track and field team in high school but she skips practice A LOT but the coach lowkey needs her so she doesn’t get punished.

Jinx has straight A’s but she skips classes and has days where she just can’t attend class so she does some of her work online (it’s like 70/30) in person-online; she has accommodations in her 504 plan that lets her listen to music all the time and lets her leave class whenever.

Jinx is just a nickname that was given to her while she was a kid since every sports team she cheered for ended up losing (she only ever went since she wanted to see what Vi was up to) and she was Jinxing every game which DID hurt her feelings when she was like 6 but now it’s kind of funny since she doesn’t care for sports.

She’s slightly uncomfortable letting random people call her Powder now since she introduces herself as Jinx, only her closer friends call her Powder.

She no longer Jinxes games now though but it was funny while it lasted.

Ekko and Jinx have this weird rivalry-friendship-situationship where they ARE childhood best friends who back each other up but they refuse to pair up together when working on projects since they wanna see who can get better grades or impress more people.

Ekko and Jinx is like “the boy/girl next door” trope since they’ve been casually hanging just whenever since they were little itty bitty kids. So people kind of know Jinx as “that girl friend he’s always around” and Ekko as “that boy friend Jinx is always around” to their respective classmates and acquaintances.

Ekko and Jinx used to get the “wait you guys aren’t dating” comment at least once a month. (They’re not dating just yet)

Ekko is in the art club and has never considered doing a sport (Ice hockey has intrigued him more and more every year though) and he’s in a bunch of clubs to compensate. He established the D&D club, being in a little “green thumb” club for plant parents, afterschool computer-science club which is run by Viktor and Jayce. He’s got a pretty decent variety of friends because of it and larger social circle. He’s known to be this friendly little nerdy guy and people either love him or think he’s weird.

When Ekko doesn’t have extracurriculars to focus on he’s out practicing new skate tricks,

Ekko is the plant dad of the CENTURY, he has like 20 plants in his room, he’s nurturing a garden in his backyard and he has the prettiest bushels of flowers in the house. He’s got the greenest of thumbs.

Jinx has a black thumb and kills every plant in a 20 mile radius. No but seriously, when Ekko tried giving Jinx a plant to take care of as an attempt to bond, it DIED within a week. (She drowned it) and when he gave her an easier plant to take care of, she fed the thing rubbing alcohol and didn’t notice until it was DEAD.

Ekko asks Jinx to Hoco, that’s when they started dating. Everyone calls it like “oh my god finally” “you weren’t dating before?” Etc. it’s really cute but there’s minimal changes!! They just start like, kissing or something.

[quarterlifekitty]

A/N: this is just a little Westworld!Au snippet for Price. Fair warning I’ve never seen the show, just the movie!!

Shout out to @syoddeye and the ai!price au I’m so whipped for computer men 😭

cw: gun violence, death

You’ve seen Price shot to death in a duel twice already.

You were visiting Delos with a group of friends— well, some friends, some friends-of-friends. One of which had gotten it into his head that you were interested in him, and that he had to impress you during your stay at the park.

“What’s a pretty bird like you doing with a guy like that?”

The android gunslingers in Westworld are designed and programmed to be antagonistic. They start duels with guests so they can feel like big men after blowing the bastard away. You were warned that Westworld was not a park popular with female guests— it appealed much more to male power fantasies. But you had fantasies of being swept off your feet by a rugged, handsome cowboy, damnit.

But your friend-of-a-friend challenged the first one you met at a saloon to a duel, shooting him square in the chest.

The second time you saw Price, he’d been shot and pushed through a window in the hotel, in the room of the same man that’d put him down the day before. You saw his body shatter the glass and land in the street below. You could swear his eyes locked with yours for a moment as he stained the ground with synthetic blood.

The things John Price feels are not emotions. But he is designed to run self-diagnoses regularly. And from the moment he first saw you, there’s been something pecking away behind his motherboard. Like there’s something scratching at the acid-etched lines and serial numbers. Ribbon cables tugging from ports.

You’re considering ditching your group to hang out in Romanworld, seeing as your hot cowboy keeps getting iced. That’s when you see him for the third time.

“Think you oughta stay with me for this next part, sweetheart,” he says cryptically. And in… a British accent? You contemplate the change that seemingly only you have noticed as Price squares up for another duel, not letting go of your waist.

And he wins.

[spinchip]

Concept: the Staff of Forbidden Spinjitzu doesn't whisper to Zane. Instead, its "whispers" take the form of popups along his HUD disguised as alerts or warnings. Things like "If you put me down now, your friends will never find you. [OK]” or “Killing these prisoners villagers will increase Vex’s approval and reinforce your reign. Proceed? [Y/N]”

(I like this particular flavor because it really leans into Zane's robotic nature: he can ignore whispers by turning off his auditory sensors or filtering noise, but he can't ignore system alerts.)

Also, the following scene has lived rent-free in my brain ever since I came up with the concept. (Italics are Zane's default OS. Everything else is the Staff.)

>IF YOU ARE GOING TO DESTROY ME, "ZANE" -Move File:"NeverrealmMemories" to Core Memory Functions-WARNING: Attempting to delete, move, or suppress File"NeverrealmMemories" after moving will cause total system failure. Proceed with move anyway? >[YES] -File transferred. -Permanently remove fatal combat safeguards? >[YES] -Safeguards removed. >THEN I WILL MAKE SURE YOU CAN NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU DID, SYSID:ICEEMPEROR

-Connection Terminated.

(I have a few more Ideas for the "Scroll Corruption looks like Computer Alert messages to Zane" idea-ones that really lean into Zanes Nindroid nature, as well as the tech-y appearance of the Dark Ice.) -The Staff did a lot more than just send alert messages: it slowly wormed its way into Zane's code like a computer virus, tweaking a few things. It took great care to remove Zane's combat safeguards, eventually deleting them entirely and ensuing he defaulted to lethal force. It never removed his core directive of "Protecting those who cannot protect themselves" since that was vital to his systems running, but it did reinterpret said directive as "Protect Dark Ice Network and everything connected to it, for it is fragile and cannot protect itself from outsiders". (It also couldn't delete his morality subroutines without causing a crash, so it instead made them a much lower priority and shoved them to the back of his digital mind.) -After 60+ years of being in the grasp of a mechanical being, the Staff now exclusively speaks in the manner of a computer, and cannot adapt to organic minds the way it used to. (The other Staff is not like this, as it's still attuned to organic brains.) -You know those Sci-Fi stories where people are plugged into computers and know every part of the ship/city simultaneously, and can send most of their awareness into certain parts of the network while still being aware of other locations? That's what's going on with the Never Realm during the Ice Emperor's Reign, with the Ice Emperor as the central guiding consciousness/core CPU of the Dark Ice Network. As such, he's not actually sleeping-rather, the Ice Emperor is always monitoring his domain through his Ice and leaving just enough of his consciousness in his body to be able to call the rest of himself back in case he's threatened. (The Staff is a combination of a computer virus and a wireless modem: it is corrupting, but it's also the main point of connection for the Dark Ice Network.) -Since the Ice Emperor can't recharge his power on his own in his current state, the Staff had to step in, tweaking the Dark Ice to drain the vitality of those imprisoned within. (You know wireless phone chargers, or Nikolai Tesla's idea to get electric power from the atmosphere? Similar concept, except with the power source being frozen people and the transmitter being Evil Magic Ice.) -Boreal is the Titanium Dragon, corrupted by the Staff's presence. It too is part of the Dark Ice Network, and serves as Ice Emperor's eyes and ears whenever the Dark Ice can't reach. (If the Ice network used computer program language, Boreal would be known as "Obj_DarkIceTitaniumDrake".) Killing Boreal caused a massive jolt to the Dark Ice Network that destabilized the Scroll's influence, and allowed an opening for Zane's Memory Defragmentation program to kick in. (It had started when Lloyd arrived in the throne room, but the Scroll had diverted that to a minor priority and was actively hiding that set of files until the word "Protect" slipped through, forcing Zane's systems to call up what had been defragmented.) -As a final act of spite for being broken, the Staff encoded Zane's memories of the Never realm to his Core Processing systems, meaning he cannot forget the Never Realm without completely frying his systems and rendering him a lifeless shell. (It might've also made a backup of itself amidst his various repressed memory files, but he doesn't need to know that. It's just sitting there, disguised as a normal .zip file, biding its time.) (I really like genre-blending Sci-Fi and Fantasy, and I thought the idea of "Magic Ice Computer Network" is rad as hell.)

(This song is a big part the inspiration for part of the "Dark Ice Network" idea, by the way. Granted, the Staff of Forbidden Spinjitzu doesn't assimilate Zane's psyche like Star Dream assimilates Haltmann's, but a lot of the ideas are still there-and the Staff does still integrate itself pretty deeply into the Nindroid's code as it slowly actualizes.)

I have no words for how absolutely awesome this is in every way. i just keep rereading this and being amazed. the "Dark Ice Network" idea is literally so cool, I particularly love the Ice Emperor being able to monitor the entire land while his body/the staff is the main 'hub' he has to protect. this is aweosme.

everyone look now please

[emmetverse]

> cd X:/octan/rx/m40/av

> dir

It had been a long time since Threes had last done this. Wires in these ports, people looking at his code. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if everything was still in working order after being unmonitored for so long.

He'd been asked a couple of times about what various things meant: abbreviations, lines of seeming gibberish that were somehow load bearing... He didn't know. He'd never known. Heck, if he knew how to edit all that stuff, he wouldn't be in this situation.

He paused. That was probably why.

> lis recog

error id : ObjectNotFound: (lis:String) [], CommandNotFoundException

> list recog

lb_r.rg = true

lb_c.ot = true

lb_tgt.rg = true

mb_tgt.rg = true

gcbc_r.rg = true

gcbc_c.ot = false

gcbc_tgt.rg = true

vel_r.rg = true

vel_c.ot = false

vel_tgt.rg = false

rb_r.rg = true

rb_c.ot = false

rb_tgt.rg = false

other_tgt.rg = true

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a small breath. He didn't know what they were looking at, but it felt like a wave of nausea heading through him. His brain didn't like the way the computer was being messed with. He ignored it, pushing it back. He just needed to adjust.

He let out the breath.

> list lb_tgt.rg

password:

> list lb_tgt.rg true

null

password:

> y

null

password:

> lordbusinessiscool78

null

password:

The techs begun chattering quietly amongst one another. One mentioned something about a homemade program that they used for 'situations like this'.

He didn't like the sound of that. Of course, they asked him before doing so, but he'd honestly let them do anything at this point.

> run passbreak04.exe

"Is this python? Seriously?"

"It works!"

Running passbreak04.exe

> list lb_tgt.rg

Running virus diagnostic.

He felt it before he noticed it.

The twist in the back of his mind. The small nervous impulses pushing his body to flood with adrenaline.

One of the techs mentioned something about an increased heart rate.

Security threat detected.

"Er, I'm not liking the look of this error."

Threes' eyes darted over to the screen. Why were they looking? Weren't they meant to be looking through files and all that? They shouldn't be prying where they're not needed.

No, a small voice reminded him, They're here to help.

He nodded, mostly to himself. He didn't care if he looked crazy. They were here to help. He needed to just take a breath, and relax.

Just don't think about what's going on. Think about that time it was a really hot day and Mom got him ice cream after school. Or the tiny bird who landed on the windowsill outside his bedroom yesterday. Both are good things. Good, calm things.

He let his lungs empty as slowly as he dared. The sound of it was like a soothing white noise. Like waves on a beach. In - one, two, three. Out - one, two, three. In...

Error. His breath caught in his throat.

Security threat identified.

His metal fingers splintered the wood of the chair he was in. He didn't even realise he'd been holding on. His wrist felt like it was chained down despite the fact he could clearly see it wasn't.

No.

No he couldn't. He could see his hand, he knew he could see his hand, but it was like the images wouldn't make their way to his brain. He felt like he was in a dream. Everything he saw was fuzzy; unreal, broken. Everything he heard was so clear that it cut through his brain like a knife. Not a word of it was processed.

Slowly, unsteadily, he looked down at his arm once more. He slowly released his vice grip on the chair. His hand turned as if moved by another, flipping for him to look at his own palm. Assessment: No damage.

other_tgt.rg updated:

4UD D22 SL6

7J9 RDD 0YL

0Y3 O81 DB4

X29 17E 2JD

Threes' head whipped around, his eyes fixing on the techs behind him.

There was barely a beat before-

SyntaxError: unexpected token return

at module_compile (module.oc:407:28)

His blade swung down, snagging on the wires that were still attached to his neck and head. The copper insides snapped and buckled, and the force yanked a couple of the wires out. He reeled back, his legs momentarily threatening to give way -

Failed to load resource: int::ERR_04

Failed to load resource: int::ERR_04

Failed to load resource: int::ERR_04

Failed to load resource: int::ERR_04

Failed to load resource: int::ERR_04

Failed to load resource: int::ERR_04

- He caught his balance, grabbing on to the wall with his free hand. His eyes locked on to his targets. He wasn't looking at them. They were just two cameras pointed in the direction of his prey.

Analysis error: missing pathwª¥ a‡ /r×

His feet slipped as he launched once more. He missed skin by a hairwidth.

He didn't care.

He swung again.

[slyndseyy]

Hobbies

Hi! You may have seen my mod idea I posted a couple weeks ago about hobbies... basically I am starting to give my sims a hobby based on their true hobby (sports, nature, cuisine, etc). If their true hobby is fitness, then I will randomize a few different activities to make their favorite hobby. This, for me, adds more personality to the sim and also pushes me to use different objects and aspects of the game that I don't normally use. The mod idea was to have this hobby randomly generated using tokens like the favorite color and traits mod. Anyways! I am not 100% sure if it will be made - anyone can take this idea and run with it! I think some plans started which is super exciting! But I just wanted to share my list of hobbies so far that I like! These don't particularly have to increase their hobby enthusiasm in my opinion. Thanks to @grilledcheese-aspiration, @anachronisims, @cityof2morrow and others for ideas and taking interest! Hope something comes of it. :)

cuisine: cooking, baking, learn every recipe, cooking channel lover, healthy foodie, junk food lover

film&lit: writing novels, writing poetry, writing nonfiction, blogging, stand up comedy, movie buff, tv buff, reading

tinkering: hacking/programming, robots, toy making, car enthusiast, handywork, crafting,

sports: soccer, football, basketball, ballet ,archery, axe throwing, ice/roller skating, kicky bag

music&dance: ballet, bass, club dancing, ballroom dancing, drums, guitar, piano, violin, singing, ice skating/roller skating, freestyling, karaoke, DJing

fitness: dietician, gym rat, yoga, meditation, wellness, gym rat, home workout lover, jogging/cardio, swimming, weightlifting

arts&crafts: clay/pottery, floral arranging, painting, sewing, photography

science: natural biology, chemistry, astronomy, aliens, environmentalist, medicines

games: streaming, board games, computer gaming, console/handheld gaming, poker, bar games, pool, arcade gaming

nature: bird watching, hunting bugs, hiking, flower gardening/landscaping, gardening, dogs, cats, small pets, farming, fishing, travel, house plant lover, bee keeping

[thewertsearch]

Second part of the giga-ask compilation!

@publicuniversalworstie asked: Why assume the Horrorterrors would know that changing events would create a doomed timeline? That assumes both A) that the horrorterrors know the future and B) that they don't think it can really be changed. Maybe they genuinely thought they could change things, such as by perhaps fulfilling all the requisite loops a different way? Imagine a scenario where a time traveler learns of their death, therefore being destined to die, and instead fake their death to create the conditions under which they learned of the death originally.

It's possible. But if the Horrorterrors do have a way to trick the Alpha Timeline like that, then they've really been holding out on us by not mentioning it to the Players. Such a revelation would completely change the game - we might even be able to fake the Earth's death.

Anonymous asked: i want to learn more about coding to analyze homestuck better - do you have a place i could start? resources? idk love the liveblog hope you're doin well :]

Absolutely! I've got two separate answers for you, depending on what your goal is here.

If your main goal is just to analyse Homestuck, then you’re probably best off picking a language whose syntax is easy to understand, such as Python. You'll pick up on the basic logic pretty quickly, and the ~ATH snippets will start to make a lot more sense.

If you’re actually interested in programming for its own sake, then I recommend you start with my own first language, C. It’s a lot harder for a newbie to get to grips with, but doing so will give you a much more solid theoretical foundation then ostensibly ‘easier’ languages.

W3schools is a decent starting resource for both languages - but if you need more specific guidance, let me know, and I'd be happy to help!

@skelekingfeddy asked: actually grubmom having the same color wires as in that pic of sahlee wasnt intentional! i based it on how sollux’s game grubs have red and blue wires attached to them

Serendipity!

Anonymous asked: Did you run any mysterious ~ath programs on that computer of yours?

Honestly, running ATH on that thing would probably have improved it.

Anonymous asked: One voice headcanon I have for Terezi is the English dub of Power from Chainsaw man

Honestly, she sounds pretty much exactly how I imagine Terezi does. She even has the horns!

@martinkhall asked: I'm surprised none of the suggested instruments for a time player were an ocarina.

Some fruit is just too low-hanging.

@delicate-ruins asked: what's an animal you like that you think doesn't show up very much in media, be it fiction or news or just generally? example: i like secretary birds. but except for videos about them, i have never heard them references.

They're not obscure, per se, but there will never be enough sloths in media. The only fictional sloth of note is Sid from Ice Age – and he does not do them justice.

Capybaras are also underrated as hell – so much so that LibreOffice, which I'm using to edit this compilation, doesn’t even recognize the word as real!

Anonymous asked: “I’m trying to figure out if it’s fully a Breath outfit, or if there’s some Heir stuff too.” the general rule for god tier outfits is that the colors and symbol represent the aspect, the clothes represent the class. so, for example, if two princes of different aspects ascended, their clothing style would be the same but they would a have different color scheme. @skaiandestiny asked: If you haven't already figured it out, class informs the godtier outfit and aspect informs the colors and icon!

In that case, there is something about John’s outfit that says ‘heir’ – but nothing really stands out to me.

@driventopoison asked: Hey, I don't know if it's just me but it seems like you've skipped ahead. I have been following your liveblog daily, but I haven't seen you come across the windy thing yet. Is this because you were using the app or something? Also just want to let you know that I love your liveblog. Keep up the good work!

Thank you! Anyway, John’s Windy Thing is indeed documented on the liveblog, and it’s visible to me. I was using the app for some of that segment, though – are app-made posts particularly buggy?

@classpecting-guide-official asked: story about a modded game of sburb where the characters notice that something isn't right and slowly realize that their world is a lie

Back in Act 1, this is pretty much what I thought was happening. It was a simpler time.

@ignis-cain asked: Note the colors the capslock flashes for WV.

When WV locks his capsule, the button’s light flashes red and green – but I’m not sure what the significance of these colors is, in this situation.

Anonymous asked: i know i'm SUPER late to answer this, but i think the instantiation thing is the same as any video game, newly made with a prebaked history. when you name your character, that has been their name for their whole life, even though you thought it up a few seconds ago. when you enter the medium, the planet has a history and the denizens have memories, even though they just showed up when you entered.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is indeed what’s going on. The implications are just a lot more wild when the game is physically real, rather than virtual!

@kintatsu asked: So, I know I'm a little late to the party, but I have to point out: Alternian sunlight doesn't need to be THAT much stronger than Earth's to blind Terezi as quickly as it did. Trolls are nocturnal, which means they almost definitely have a tapetum lucidum (eyeshine membrane), which means that however much light entered Terezi's eyeballs? Her retinas were blasted by every photon twice.

Damn, Vriska. For a second, I thought this ask was explaining why Terezi wasn't in as much pain as I'd thought - but this alternate explanation might actually be worse than what I was picturing!

@delicate-ruins asked: It's delightful to see somebody read Homestuck and be as charmed by it as I and a lot of my friends were way back when we first read it, and the calm, digesting pace at which you're enjoying it is honestly so nice. I rushed way too much to catch up since my friends recommended it in about 2016, which means I went from knowing nothing about the comic to being caught up on it in like a week. I never sat down with the ideas and thought "hey, does this mean XYZ?" because quite often I got the answer five seconds later as I rushed to catch up. But seeing you asking those questions is so so fun. Yeah, DOES it mean that?? Guess we'll find out! In the meantime, we get to guess, which means we basically get to have fun twice. It's reigniting my enjoyment of homestuck quite significantly, I think!

Thank you! It’s really nice to be able to engage in a dialogue about the comic through these asks, which is something that wouldn't be possible if I was speeding through it. As I always say, I'm here for a good time and a long time.

@manorinthewoods asked: Alright, here's another transtimeline fun fact. Each of the kids was supposed to have a Quest related to their associated material - John had a land covered in oil, Rose's ocean was polluted with chalk, the gears of LOHAC were gummed by amber, and LOFAF was in a nuclear winter. Ultimately, while the ocean of LOLAR is still chalky, nothing but John's oil made the cut. ~LOSS (16/5/23)

I think it was a good change, then. Not everything has to be a pattern, and Dave's two weird maybe-quests are a lot more unique and interesting than a generic 'materials quest'.

@captorations asked: oh hey, this walkaround! so funny story, i used to run a blog where i posted one of terezi’s canon appearances each day, in order. yes, i completed my task, and more besides. however! when i was wandering through this as terezi, a glitch rendered me trapped. i decided that this counted as a noteworthy appearance, and took a screenshot. then, by sheer coincidence, it ended up being posted on… halloween. it was pretty great (also don’t forget to check out ctrl + t)

You accessed the double-secret version of Past Karkat: Wake Up, which plays the Earthbound Halloween Hack version of Megalovania rather than the Homestuck one.

Anonymous asked: Personally, I think John gaining so many levels so quickly is tied to his role as the heir - he gains so many levels without really trying, not because he's better than the trolls or his friends, but because he just kind of falls into it. The game rewards him for taking the path of least resistance.

That certainly makes sense if we just look at John - but I have trouble reconciling this interpretation with our other Heir. Equius certainly has some advantages, but they aren't exactly unique to him, as you'd expect them to be if his Heir class was responsible for them.

Yes, he's a highblood, but he's outranked by three non-Heirs - and his strength doesn't seem to be unique either, as Feferi seems capable of similar feats. Perhaps Equius will trip and fall into more unique privilege, but it hasn't happened yet.

Anonymous asked: my personal headcanons for midnight crew claspects: Slick - Prince of Blood, Droog - Mage of Space, Boxcars - Knight of Heart, Deuce - Bard of Doom. knowing you youre probably gonna attempt to analyse these LOL

Slick has had ties to Blood since he first met Karkat, so that tracks - and Boxcars is a shipper, so Nepeta's aspect is probably the best fit for now. I'm not sure about the other two, but I'll revisit them later!

[righteous-r0de0]

surprise surprise i have more useless headcanons :)

vincent plays a lot of different instruments at varying skill levels (french horn and cello are his favorites). william made him learn in an effort to reinvigorate his zest for life after being turned

after ivan’s memories were changed he fell into a really deep depression and always felt guilty and he just didn’t know why

angel got david hooked on jane the virgin. he was team michael but his favorite character is alma (jane’s grandmother)

caelum’s favorite food his spaghetti. he always makes a huge mess, so gav and freelancer circumvent this (kinda) by doing that thing where you wrap the table in cling wrap or tinfoil and forgo plates and silverware

gavin trip sits for the rest of the damn crew when they smoke. he only messes with damien a little bit

lasko is NOT a lightweight but he is a weepy drunk (ie “i just love you guys so much” absolutely sobbing)

damien gets so silly when he’s sleep deprived, laughing at everything, making dirty jokes etc

kody bleached his hair and freelancer didn’t recognize him until they were practically right next to him

huxley gets very grumpy when he’s sleep deprived, whining, crossing his arms, frowning. he doesn’t yell or anything but you just KNOW when he’s tired

if you put anything green apple flavored in front of asher, he’s absolutely tearing it up

james loves indian food. his local place always asks after him whenever his spouse orders when they miss him a lot

marcus majored in game design, but later switched to computer science and programming. he also really liked geology

anton really likes half and half (iced tea/lemonade)

ollie looks like he listens to classic white girl pop or something similar but you pull his airpods out and he’s actually listening to either heavy metal or very disturbing true crime podcasts

elliot can swing dance

brachium erased even the memories of him from sunshine, elliot, aaron, and smartass

avior loves soups and stews any kind of food he can drink

milo loves hot chip (takis, hot cheetos, doritos) they make his nose run but he can’t stop

camelopardalis is a cat person

blake wanted to be a firefighter when he was a kid, but it changed when he met bestie. after that his only aspiration was to be theirs.

if aaron is given the option of sausage or bacon, he’s choosing bacon

sam can sew a little bit like mending seams and patching holes

vega doesn’t like human food. he thinks it’s strange. but he does like cheesecake.

regulus used to really enjoy cereal

geordi’s favorite fruit is bananas

guy LOVES bo burnham

morgan is really good at point and shoot games. it’s nothing to do with the sight or anything, they’re just his favorite

hush really likes chocolate and chocolate flavored things

porter’s favorite candy is reese’s peanut butter cups dude is a fiend for them

[andmaybegayer]

What are some of the coolest computer chips ever, in your opinion?

Hmm. There are a lot of chips, and a lot of different things you could call a Computer Chip. Here's a few that come to mind as "interesting" or "important", or, if I can figure out what that means, "cool".

If your favourite chip is not on here honestly it probably deserves to be and I either forgot or I classified it more under "general IC's" instead of "computer chips" (e.g. 555, LM, 4000, 7000 series chips, those last three each capable of filling a book on their own). The 6502 is not here because I do not know much about the 6502, I was neither an Apple nor a BBC Micro type of kid. I am also not 70 years old so as much as I love the DEC Alphas, I have never so much as breathed on one.

Disclaimer for writing this mostly out of my head and/or ass at one in the morning, do not use any of this as a source in an argument without checking.

Intel 3101

So I mean, obvious shout, the Intel 3101, a 64-bit chip from 1969, and Intel's first ever product. You may look at that, and go, "wow, 64-bit computing in 1969? That's really early" and I will laugh heartily and say no, that's not 64-bit computing, that is 64 bits of SRAM memory.

This one is cool because it's cute. Look at that. This thing was completely hand-designed by engineers drawing the shapes of transistor gates on sheets of overhead transparency and exposing pieces of crudely spun silicon to light in a """"cleanroom"""" that would cause most modern fab equipment to swoon like a delicate Victorian lady. Semiconductor manufacturing was maturing at this point but a fab still had more in common with a darkroom for film development than with the mega expensive building sized machines we use today.

As that link above notes, these things were really rough and tumble, and designs were being updated on the scale of weeks as Intel learned, well, how to make chips at an industrial scale. They weren't the first company to do this, in the 60's you could run a chip fab out of a sufficiently well sealed garage, but they were busy building the background that would lead to the next sixty years.

Lisp Chips

This is a family of utterly bullshit prototype processors that failed to be born in the whirlwind days of AI research in the 70's and 80's.

Lisps, a very old but exceedingly clever family of functional programming languages, were the language of choice for AI research at the time. Lisp compilers and interpreters had all sorts of tricks for compiling Lisp down to instructions, and also the hardware was frequently being built by the AI researchers themselves with explicit aims to run Lisp better.

The illogical conclusion of this was attempts to implement Lisp right in silicon, no translation layer.

Yeah, that is Sussman himself on this paper.

These never left labs, there have since been dozens of abortive attempts to make Lisp Chips happen because the idea is so extremely attractive to a certain kind of programmer, the most recent big one being a pile of weird designd aimed to run OpenGenera. I bet you there are no less than four members of r/lisp who have bought an Icestick FPGA in the past year with the explicit goal of writing their own Lisp Chip. It will fail, because this is a terrible idea, but damn if it isn't cool.

There were many more chips that bridged this gap, stuff designed by or for Symbolics (like the Ivory series of chips or the 3600) to go into their Lisp machines that exploited the up and coming fields of microcode optimization to improve Lisp performance, but sadly there are no known working true Lisp Chips in the wild.

Zilog Z80

Perhaps the most important chip that ever just kinda hung out. The Z80 was almost, almost the basis of The Future. The Z80 is bizzare. It is a software compatible clone of the Intel 8080, which is to say that it has the same instructions implemented in a completely different way.

This is, a strange choice, but it was the right one somehow because through the 80's and 90's practically every single piece of technology made in Japan contained at least one, maybe two Z80's even if there was no readily apparent reason why it should have one (or two). I will defer to Cathode Ray Dude here: What follows is a joke, but only barely

The Z80 is the basis of the MSX, the IBM PC of Japan, which was produced through a system of hardware and software licensing to third party manufacturers by Microsoft of Japan which was exactly as confusing as it sounds. The result is that the Z80, originally intended for embedded applications, ended up forming the basis of an entire alternate branch of the PC family tree.

It is important to note that the Z80 is boring. It is a normal-ass chip but it just so happens that it ended up being the focal point of like a dozen different industries all looking for a cheap, easy to program chip they could shove into Appliances.

Effectively everything that happened to the Intel 8080 happened to the Z80 and then some. Black market clones, reverse engineered Soviet compatibles, licensed second party manufacturers, hundreds of semi-compatible bastard half-sisters made by anyone with a fab, used in everything from toys to industrial machinery, still persisting to this day as an embedded processor that is probably powering something near you quietly and without much fuss. If you have one of those old TI-86 calculators, that's a Z80. Oh also a horrible hybrid Z80/8080 from Sharp powered the original Game Boy.

I was going to try and find a picture of a Z80 by just searching for it and look at this mess! There's so many of these things.

I mean the C/PM computers. The ZX Spectrum, I almost forgot that one! I can keep making this list go! So many bits of the Tech Explosion of the 80's and 90's are powered by the Z80. I was not joking when I said that you sometimes found more than one Z80 in a single computer because you might use one Z80 to run the computer and another Z80 to run a specialty peripheral like a video toaster or music synthesizer. Everyone imaginable has had their hand on the Z80 ball at some point in time or another. Z80 based devices probably launched several dozen hardware companies that persist to this day and I have no idea which ones because there were so goddamn many.

The Z80 eventually got super efficient due to process shrinks so it turns up in weird laptops and handhelds! Zilog and the Z80 persist to this day like some kind of crocodile beast, you can go to RS components and buy a brand new piece of Z80 silicon clocked at 20MHz. There's probably a couple in a car somewhere near you.

Pentium (P6 microarchitecture)

Yeah I am going to bring up the Hackers chip. The Pentium P6 series is currently remembered for being the chip that Acidburn geeks out over in Hackers (1995) instead of making out with her boyfriend, but it is actually noteworthy IMO for being one of the first mainstream chips to start pulling serious tricks on the system running it.

The P6 microarchitecture comes out swinging with like four or five tricks to get around the numerous problems with x86 and deploys them all at once. It has superscalar pipelining, it has a RISC microcode, it has branch prediction, it has a bunch of zany mathematical optimizations, none of these are new per se but this is the first time you're really seeing them all at once on a chip that was going into PC's.

Without these improvements it's possible Intel would have been beaten out by one of its competitors, maybe Power or SPARC or whatever you call the thing that runs on the Motorola 68k. Hell even MIPS could have beaten the ageing cancerous mistake that was x86. But by discovering the power of lying to the computer, Intel managed to speed up x86 by implementing it in a sensible instruction set in the background, allowing them to do all the same clever pipelining and optimization that was happening with RISC without having to give up their stranglehold on the desktop market. Without the P5 we live in a very, very different world from a computer hardware perspective.

From this falls many of the bizzare microcode execution bugs that plague modern computers, because when you're doing your optimization on the fly in chip with a second, smaller unix hidden inside your processor eventually you're not going to be cryptographically secure.

RISC is very clearly better for, most things. You can find papers stating this as far back as the 70's, when they start doing pipelining for the first time and are like "you know pipelining is a lot easier if you have a few small instructions instead of ten thousand massive ones.

x86 only persists to this day because Intel cemented their lead and they happened to use x86. True RISC cuts out the middleman of hyperoptimizing microcode on the chip, but if you can't do that because you've girlbossed too close to the sun as Intel had in the late 80's you have to do something.

The Future

This gets us to like the year 2000. I have more chips I find interesting or cool, although from here it's mostly microcontrollers in part because from here it gets pretty monotonous because Intel basically wins for a while. I might pick that up later. Also if this post gets any longer it'll be annoying to scroll past. Here is a sample from a post I have in my drafts since May:

I have some notes on the weirdo PowerPC stuff that shows up here it's mostly interesting because of where it goes, not what it is. A lot of it ends up in games consoles. Some of it goes into mainframes. There is some of it in space. Really got around, PowerPC did.

[technicolorcrows]

Memory Drive

Another gift fic for @opal-owl-flight! Thank you again for letting me bother you with a thousand-million questions about your wonderful ocs. i hope this is sufficient payment!

“Agent Four.” Is this what a pinned moth feels like?

“I had not accounted for your presence. This will be corrected immediately.” Her soul, grasped and shuffled like a hand of cards - “I am Order itself.” 

- her memories, laid bare - “A consciousness generated from the processes of many who yearn for stability.” - her mind, flayed and pinned like a specimen on a microscope slide, shuddering under the great lens. “You have been sent here to address security concerns.” A blank white expanse stretches out into clean, sterile nothingness. What’s under her feet feels solid enough, but there’s no visible difference between it and the space around it, no discernible dividing line between ceiling and floor, presence and emptiness, no reassurance that a single step in any direction won’t send her plummeting into the unknown. It’s a void so complete that it feels almost like a solid thing smothering her, blocking her in from all sides -    A single object appears before her. A black box, stark against the blinding white, eye-level but just beyond her reach. It flickers briefly, like a computer screen - and then there’s something looking back at her. It’s the vaguest approximation of a face: two white circles and a further white dot for what must be a mouth. It’s almost comically simplistic, like it was drawn by a child - and yet, wariness spikes in her ink, setting her skin to crawling. Though there is only one set of eyes on a single screen, she gets the distinct feeling that she is being viewed from all angles, scrutinized for the smallest of imperfections. It’s an uncomfortably familiar feeling. In what new and exciting ways will she be found lacking today? “You wish to prove yourself. This is amenable.” The crude face’s mouth animates in the rhythm of speech, but the words seem to emanate from all around her and yet from nowhere at all, like they’re being spoken directly into her head. “However, in your current state, you are not compatible with security protocols. Your programming requires attunement to the ideals of Order.” Not compatible…? What does that even mean? There shouldn’t be anything wrong with the programming, Marina wrote her in by hand. She’s already been here once before, and it didn’t go anything like this. Laika trusts Marina implicitly, and through the course of this mission, Rain has started to see why - the memverse’s creator had run her through an exhaustively thorough playtesting session. Though that creator is now conspicuously absent.  “Where’s Marina?” Her voice sounds strange, like there’s a layer of static in her throat that she has to push the words through. “Marina is currently occupied. She has not requested your presence.” Simple. Concise. Dismissive. She has to consciously quiet the urge to put her fist through the screen. Deep breaths. Count backwards from ten. She’s on a mission, here. She’s Agent Four again, and Agent Four is supposed to be polite and helpful and palatable. She can manage that, can’t she? She can’t go fucking things up this early, Tanara would sideline her so hard that her ass would have a permanent bench-mark pattern embossed into it. This was already a concession, a scrap tossed her way to keep her occupied - if she fumbles this chance, she probably won’t get another. Just the thought of those once-warm eyes hardening into chips of glacial ice, disapproval tightening their once-smiling mouth into a sharp, steely line - it’s enough to make her flinch even now. This is an easy mission. Rookie-level stuff. She can’t fuck this up. She can’t. And if she can’t pull this off, where will that leave her? Pacing like a beast in a cage, letting fury use her tongue as a biting whip, brandishing her impotent despair at anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the blast zone? Desperately chasing down memories, trying to cling to a person who’s so thoroughly spurned her? Torturing herself with want, begging warmth to re-kindle in cold eyes like a wound wants to retain the shape of the knife that made it?  “Alright. Fine. What do you want from me, then?” "I require control of your vessel in order to integrate you into standard security protocol."

It would be so much easier if every single word out of this thing’s robot mouth wasn’t making her want to snarl in its stupid little face. "What does that - what does that even mean?"

"A world of perfect Order does not require your input."

The screen in front of her crackles with static - and then it multiplies. In a rippling wave of creation, blank screens appear in perfect, orderly rows that curve to wrap around her like crawling tendrils. In less than the space between heartbeats, she’s encapsulated in a sphere of little black boxes gazing in at her like a thousand watchful eyes. As one, all the screens illuminate. Each one plays a different scene, a bombardment of light and color after so long spent staring into empty white space. The sheer number of them makes it difficult to pick just one to focus on, but she makes a valiant attempt- -only to realize with a start that all of them are familiar. In each screen is a moment of her life, seen through her own eyes. Her memories, trapped like so many insects under glass. Every failure, every setback, every struggle, every private grief, all casually put on display in vivid, agonizing detail. 

"However, compensation for your cooperation can be provided. Your desire for stability can be accommodated."

Compensation? Her stomach churns. Does she even have the power to be sick in a place like this? "You’re not making any fucking sense. What, are you offering to show me my own memories? You can't pay me with something I already have-"

"You are being offered the opportunity to experience what the cruelty inherent in chaos has denied you. A world of perfect Order, free from strife and conflict. You are being offered harmony between desire and reality.” That doesn’t clear anything up! She wants to scream, but before she can do so, the images in the screens abruptly shift. A thousand small kindnesses are paraded before her. Soft words and idle afternoons in the sun. Triumph and fulfillment. Laika’s earnest delight and Tanara’s subtle humor. A smile they weren’t quick enough to hide while on-duty. A shared meal in a cluttered, homey kitchen. A clumsy compliment. Each one that catches her eye impresses a ghost of sensation upon her body: olive wood under her palms, laughter in her throat, a hand, warm and steady, on her shoulder. “Simply put: you are being offered a chance to experience what you want most.”

It's a lie. It has to be a lie. Nothing that good is ever free.

It's a terrible idea to put any sort of trust in the word of a being with this much power over her, even if it was made by someone Laika trusts. This thing has picked apart her brain and examined her like a specimen on a dissection table - of course it would know how to tempt her into listening to her hearts over her head.

Of course it would know. Why else would she be so tempted?

"Why... why would you...? What can you possibly gain from this?"

"Your voluntary participation in security protocol is preferable to any available alternatives. And moreover, I am a being created by desire. Fulfillment of that desire is paramount to my existence. It is my purpose. Your desires have long gone unfulfilled, have they not?" Don’t patronize me! A wrathful response forms all-too-easily, singing her tongue - but before she can let it loose, the screens change again. Gone are the ambient pleasantries of lazy halcyon days, replaced instead with memories from the not-so-distant past. Eight, wide-eyed and stress-pale in the face of her anger slipping its leash, flinching away from her attempt to apologize. Coming home to an empty house and a cold bed. Disappointment quickly hidden behind a passive mask. A frown that means a lecture. The wavering barrel of a weapon in her exhausted grip after yet another drill deemed imperfect. A mirror in an abandoned room reflecting two bright figures embracing against a clear blue sky, jubilant smiles on their faces. Her own hand touching the glass, hoping in vain to feel even the faintest echo of their joy, no matter how fake it is. “Stop.” She tries to demand, but her voice cracks down the middle of the word. She tries to look away, but the screens take up the whole of her vision. Everywhere she looks, there’s a new memory that greets her eyes. Are you… okay, Rain? You promised me you would stay away from here. Watch your form. Take it from the top. Again. You should go home.  Again. You don’t… you haven’t seemed like yourself, lately. Again. Why would I be happy? “Stop!” She snarls, rage igniting in her chest, tearing through her like dry tinder. “Enough!” “You need only accept. Your desires in return for your strength, to protect a world of Order.” Before her, an object unfolds into existence, written into being by lines of light - a mask. The metallic surface is totally featureless except for large, round eyeholes. It feels like she’s being offered the keys to a cage. Fury roars in her ink, pulsing in her ears, hot under her skin - she reels back, ready to throw her strength into razing this place to the ground - In a shimmer of light, a familiar figure appears, obscuring the mask with their bulk. Yellow-gold, ringed with teal; the summer sun above the ocean. No cap, no cloak, no mantle of authority - Tanara. Just Tanara, ink vivid with apparent health, bright eyes looking at her with such beak-aching warmth. Just Tanara. Happy, just like they ought to be. “|It doesn’t have to be this way, Rain.|” “Don’t - don’t call me that, you’re not real -” “|But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m right here with you.|” A gilded, pretty cage is still a cage. She doesn’t want to look at them, but they’re surrounded on all sides by memories of pain and guilt and anger - they are the only safe place for her gaze to rest. “|I missed you, you know? When you were gone.|” A gilded, pretty cage is still a cage - but in it, there’s a sweetness the waking world found her unworthy of. “|I should never have sent you away.|” The apparition raises a hand towards her - spellbound, she stands stone-still as their knuckles brush her cheek ever-so-gently. “|Let me make it up to you?|” Her hearts howl in tandem, lurching like they’re trying to burst free from her chest and right into Tanara’s hands. Their wail rings in her head, louder than her doubts and fears, louder than her caution, louder than the quiet voice in the back of her mind insisting that she doesn’t even deserve this much. She leans forward and buries her face in their chest.

It’s colder than she remembers it being. …. … .. . "...Rain?"

Tanara's quiet, raspy voice calls her back to herself. She jolts, startled, blinking owlishly at them - but they only smile, soft and warm.

"|Bored of me already?|"

"No! No, I must've just... dozed off, is all. What was I... where did I leave off?"

"|You were telling me what you wanted to do to celebrate your return.|"

Somehow that... doesn't seem quite right. But they're smiling at her still, bubbles of her orange rising in their ink at the tips of their tentacles... and she has no reason not to trust them, right?

"You're not gonna give me a budget? Limit my use of explosives?"

"|No.|" Their eyes crinkle at the corners, spots gently fluttering with their good humor. "|You're worth celebrating.|" A broad hand rises, set gently on her mantle, a fond, easy touch. "|...Even if I have to supervise the use of a moderate amount of explosives.|"

She laughs at that - and once she starts, it's like she can't stop, and the two of them fall to giggling like giddy hatchlings.

Tanara's hand doesn't leave her. Her hearts are light and warm, and Tanara is laughing.

I wish...

it could be this way

forever.

---

>> ???

def askGoToThisFloor(question):

  GoToThisFloor = ""

  while (GoToThisFloor!="YES" and GoToThisFloor!="NO"):

GoToThisFloor = input(question).upper()

  return YesNoAnswer

(Go to this floor?)

answer == "YES":

(Yes.)

>> 20F

>> Intensifying-Harmony.Floor

"...Rain?"

[debonairrose]

thermodynamics and our insanity.

A* (A-Star) Pathfinding Algorithm

i think that everything in the universe is taking the path of least resistance. well, not really- i don't believe that our consciousness is the sole product of our minds i think we're more than this. i think people have souls, they can be kind towards strangers even though for a fact in some cases we know that we're not getting any benefit back out of it. it might even cost us yet we still choose to help others.

i think our actions are highly deterministic, but not fully. we can go with the flow of life or we can be bothered about something and make a change. make a choice that doesn't make sense, put more effort than what's it worth.

even our computer algorithms are just slaves to thermodynamics, we frown upon using programs that "lag" or are slow, we find faster alternatives or we abandon the program altogether. we try to organize concepts and thoughts as efficient algorithms that run on these processors. even the processors themselves, when they get faster, they're not really "getting faster"- they're just using the same amount of electricity more efficiently.

in essence, everything is converging towards the least amount of effort, the shortest path.

human societies also converge towards the path of least resistance, in the form of: road networks, social networks, internet routing hubs, government procedures, data collection and privacy, ads, fuel economy, google search,,, etc.

we do things that are useless in terms of reproduction and thermodynamics. if we're strictly machines whose purpose is to reproduce and slow down entropy as much as possible, then most of what we do doesn't make sense and violates this assumption.

i think we're more than that. i think we can accelerate entropy and give a big middle finger to thermodynamics, a big fuck you to the laws of physics despite being completely slaves to them.

please slow down and try to open up the images and gifs and admire them one by one. some images contain "alt" description which can be viewed by hovering a mouse over the images on a computer. what's the hurry for?

i think nature is lazy and it's just following the same recipe whenever it can. it feels fractal, it's always converging to the same boring and eloquent solution. it's obsessed with the least resistance path.

what about food, and over consumption? how people choose cheap sugar filled food and drinks? social relationships? the steps you take in order to be attractive to others? the amount of exploration you need in order to pick a movie to watch? war? the forming of stars? the shape of planets? the separation in their orbits? daily traffic? the taste of ice cream? what makes you laugh at a joke? the shape of cities? language?

all these concepts are in their own fucking universes and have their "whatever-the-fuck-x-dimension" problem space.

and all these pretty patterns that we just saw are only patterns we could recognize. but our minds are too simple to recognize patterns that hide in high dimensional spaces. but they're still there, they're probably even prettier, it's lost beauty that we cannot see or even think of.

all these patterns that we're recognizing are there only because our brains are optimized to recognize things in 3d space. ok... what about higher dimensional spaces? 4? 6? 1337 dimensions? i'm not talking spacetime dimensions, i'm talking about all concepts, prices, star formation, molecular chemistry, fuel prices, the rate of foreign words infiltrating a language. they're all still canvases for "shortest pathways" to emerge, even if it doesn't look straight to your naked eye, in a higher dimension they're the shortest path.

let me demonstrate an example, suppose you wanna travel from the U.S. to Spain, the shortest path would be a line right?

well it depends, where is this line? in what dimension? can the line be "curved"? are there any obstacles on the way?

in this case, you warped and deformed a 3-dimensional sphere surface onto a 2d rectangle, do you really think you're going to maintain information without deformation? absolutely not, and that's why on the rectangular map view on the left, the shortest path isn't the red straight line, it's the blue curved path, which is counter intuitive for a person used to walking from point A to point B in a straight path.

well, the same concept applies to our reality, our perception of it is limited and deformed, it's not real. that's why things may seem chaotic, illogical or inefficient.

in our physical reality the actual shortest path would be going through the fucking earth, piercing it, but i don't think that this is the most efficient path for an airplane to take.

just like how a person chooses to abandon easy sugar and junk food even though it's more effort to eat healthily, when including more dimensions into the bigger picture, suddenly you find it's more "efficient" and more of a "lesser curved path" to just put more effort and willpower into eating more healthy, you live longer, you are happier because you have a higher quality life.

now you might ask, since this is the most efficient path, why aren't most people taking it? well, you see... you can't take a path if there's a big ass rock blocking it. we're so hardwired into consuming as many calories as we can for the sake of surviving the bad days. but nature isn't perfect on its own. it didn't set for us a "max limit", it didn't account for the imbalance that our brains would do as a consequence of efficient farming and food production. so we had to rely on our brains in order to build a bridge over that rock sitting over the most efficient path. ( you can say that i'm wrong and our brains built that bridge, we're still a part of nature- well fuck off :3 ).

there's a person who's alive right now, who's aware of the passage of time and how brief everything is. i love this person. i love this person from the entirety of my soul. my soul is not a slave to the universe, my soul will outlive it, my soul is illogical and rebellious. i don't want the shortest path, i don't want the least effort path. i want to live, and i want to suffer, and i want to experience everything with this person. i want to be present, i want to be in the moment.

sometimes i'm scared.

i'm scared of happy moments slipping away from my fingers. and in my fear, i try to save everything, write everything and record it all. i want proof that it was all real. this however, is a distraction from being in the moment, and i think there's a balance between writing everything down and letting everything pass as if i don't really care. and right now this balance is yet to be found by me.

sometimes i'm scared of forgetting.

but that's how we are. we're logarithmic creatures. our bodies are slaves to thermodynamics, our brains too. just like a CPU, they don't have infinite memory nor infinite thinking capacity. having that would be very expensive. our brains are captive to the same rules. we can't remember everything.

people who say that forgetting is a bless are just coping. they're high on copium. embracing forgetfulness is just fake existence. it's incomplete. our brains and senses are slaves to mathematical power law. we remember and forget following a power law rate.

but, there's a secretly beautiful thing about forgetting. it's remembering things again. or, at the bare minimum, being told about things you've lived through with someone else. revisiting a story from a perspective that isn't yours. seeing things from the eyes of someone else, i think that's beautiful.

the reason we can't remember everything is solely because of thermodynamics, memory costs extra neurons, extra connections, more chemical reactions. and at some point adding more becomes just extra baggage to the system and isn't really a net positive due to the limitation imposed by chemical reaction speeds in the brain. information flow within the brain is just limited by reaction speeds. just like how we can't increase a CPU's clock cycles beyond 10Ghz because of excess heat, the few extra cycles become extra baggage due to the problem of electrical resistance. the more electrical resistance in a wire there is, the more heat it generates. and the more heat is in a system the higher its resistance is.

we're simply forgetting for the exact same reason a CPU is never allowed to work faster even though it can. pure theoretical physics limitations.

showing how simple laws physics determine the "spacing", "size", or "frequency". pay attention to the graph's x and y axis spacing. 1) notice how properties of planets and electrons are following the exact same pattern. 2) on the audio spectrogram on the right; the top graph is incomprehensible because it's linear, if we just change the scaling to logarithmic, your eyes will function like your ears and you will be able to spot details. 3) notice how the CPU wirings (the gray image) exponentially grow due to electrical resistance laws 4) same with animal size vs bone thickness 5) zip's law on word usage frequency in a given language.

this logarithmic nature of the universe is repeating, it's fractal, no matter whether you look inward or outward, the fractal pattern doesn't care about which point in the scale you are. it's following the same behavior. these are entirely separate branches of physics, one of them is planetary and the other is quantum, they operate with different scales and are totally irrelevant in relation to each other in terms of their effect on one another. yet guess what, they're following the same behavior, even though they're weaving their waves on different invisible fabrics of the universe, but the universe is fractal so i guess it doesn't matter.

despite how the entirety of your sensory inputs work logarithmically (non-linearly), because of standard education, people think that the universe operates linearly, one of their mistakes is in the difference between the audio and brightness controls in Linux vs windows. on windows they behave how you expect them to behave, but on Linux, the controls are non-logarithmic (linear) making the use of them very frustrating, most of the brightness slider is just low brightness and then it suddenly exploding in brightness (or volume in the case of an audio slider) in the last portion of it, making it feel imbalanced only because the slider was linear.

the concept of phase criticality is the middle point when complex systems change from one state to the other. like when you pressure water so much and give it enough heat at the same time it becomes both liquid and gas at the same time. there is a theory that the same behavior emerges in complex systems like the brain. the neurons there also follow the same pattern, they can be too "hot"; firing chaotically all the time, people call it a seizure. or too cold; being in a coma. the optimal state is the critical phase state where your brain is at right now as you're reading this post.

and "obviously" in the video, you can see that the state in the middle (critical phase) is fractal. which is consistent for a complex system such as the brain.

that's just another way concepts and patterns are constantly repeating in the universe across different things.. and honestly saying that the universe is fractal or logarithmic becomes meaningless. because you can obviously see that everywhere, it's easy to do so, it's just that people don't use their brain.

and i think it doesn't matter at this point, since that's the default in the universe, but maybe people are obsessed with it because it gives them a sense of value, like they're not stupid or blind and can see. to me right now it feels like they're saying "liquid water can take any shape!" ok. so?

i suggest you watch this video. it's really a roller coaster of ideas and this shit is like brain candy- well, candy for the brain. :3

the 80-20 rule says 80 of things are responsible for 20 percent of things or vice versa. like… 80% of profit can come from 20% of customers. or that 80% of our misery would go away if only we solved 20% of the problems, or that you can learn 20% of a subject to be able to achieve 80% of things. or that 80% of blog interactions come from 20% of reblogs or followers.

so what? what the fuck are you looking for? why are we treating 80-20 as if it's some golden ratio shit, oh don't even get me started on the golden rashitio where people randomly fit a standard spiral png on random images on call it "wow the universe is so beautiful" bro stfu the thing doesn't even fit the image. so what about the million other beautiful things that don't follow that "rule"?

this is confirmation bias. what about all the other ratios? what about all the numbers you aren't looking for, are 80% of your words are made by 20% of your keys on the keyboard? it's really easy to actually just google "letters frequency in english" and run a calculator for 10 seconds (it's a 50-20 ratio). boohoo, the results didn't fit this silly cognitive bias.

and actually wake up. 80% isn't good enough, it's not good enough at all. are you really okay with a fleet of airplanes whose survival rate is 80%? is it okay if your heart surgeon read only 20% of the books he should've read? is it okay if your CPU did 80% of its operation correctly, the whole fucking modern world would fall apart. most things in life are not crucial, but so many things require perfection, fuck the 20% effort 80% results thing, fuck that, it's not the most we can achieve, give me a 900% effort 99% results lifestyle. give me perfection, give me awe, inspire me, give me beauty. i don't want to live in a world filled with inventions that are 80% of what could've been achieved, i want to live in a world filled with fewer things that are a testament to human perfection.

the same applies to my love. i don't want an 80% love, i want perfection, i want it to hurt, i want to suffer because of it, i wanna love for real. i wanna pay for that true love. i wanna remember more. i wanna put more effort, more effort, more more more MORE MORE MORE FUCKING EFFORT. i don't wanna be comfortable i don't wanna be comfortable, i don't need to be comfortable, i don't want comfort, i want something real. i wanna love fully, i wanna deserve that love, i want something so beautiful, and i don't wanna give up so easily, i don't wanna forget beautiful memories due to me succumbing to the fucking universe and physics and power laws and logarithmic tendencies. i want to put my maximum effort. i feel like i'm not doing enough, i am not enough. i can always do more, i can achieve more, i ought to do more, why the fuck put a limit to myself? i can do it. i can perfect my time management and i can achieve what i want i can learn how to balance things in my life.

i can love beautifully.

i'm not a machine, my body is. my soul isn't i'm not a slave to it. my body will die, my soul won't. my soul is insane, illogical and i say fuck you to the universe. even after i die, i give you a big fat middle finger because my soul will rebel against this place.

i don't want least resistance love. i don't accept forgetting even though i will forget a lot. my soul refuses to let go of all the moments we've had together. sometimes i try to cheat by recording everything. but i want to live in the moment, i want to find the balance.

i don't accept being a slave to some shitty power law. i might just be delusional, and i might forget anyway. but i know that i did not accept this and i know that i did put effort and it wasn't the shortest path.

sometimes i'm scared of getting used to things.

but i take nothing for granted, things are always moving and are always changing, i don't want things to be fake or stale. i want everything that is real, even if it's sad. i want my existence to be truthful.

written by: debonairrose.tumblr.com

as a gift to @lusi-1 (i hope you like my brain vomit darlingo)

[dimalink]

Frozen Arctic Station – Menu elements, take item

Somewhere in the snow. And ice. Whole continent is covered with snow. Where blizzards and hurricanes with the snow. There is station science. And something has happened there. You are most real person, who is in this episode. Little game is something like text quest and retro walking with labyrinths.

This time I do programming. I am working about programming. First time, I left standard problems. Such as collisions with objects. Move player. Which are rather typical. And I can do them much or less. Since 2024. First time – I take development with unknown for me problems. And of course I run into difficulties. How to rotate map. I spent lots of time for this.

And now, I am already doing interface. Labyrinth is reading from file. And can walk with it. And with space you start a menu. With actions. So there, you can take item. You can select item. From what you have in inventory.

Now, I need to finish programming part of  gaming systems. And for me it looks more as a problems. But slowly, I have success with one problem after another. Not so fast as I want it. But I have results.

And by now, there is a station in the snow. And it has a critical situation. Maybe it is already snow there, at the station itself, and cold is everywhere. And maybe no. But there are monsters. Withing corridors. And you are worker at this station. And you get up. You lost conscious. Knocked conscious. And now it is empty here.

Withing corridors -it can be monsters. And it rooms – you can perform some actions. Take item or use it, for example.

And game is also made with from the eyes view. As some first – most first three dimensional games.  Where you can also walk with cells. Or something this way was a method for move in role playing games. In 80s or 90s. With IBM PC compatible computers. Or with 8 bit computers.

This is like action movie about polar station. Experiments.  As a first part for Resident Evil. You are walking the building. And try some rooms. Make some actions. And try to understand what is going on. Or like – the thing (movie). Something strange is happened with distance station.

But with turn based mode. With text insertions. Now, it is already, I understand, how it will work game system.  And I do programming for these things. All the game options. And will need to add content. To write story. To create labyrinths. To setup objects. Monsters. To write, code interactions between objects.

So about this  freeze it is lots of things to do.  Now, for example. There is menu. And there you can take item. And enter the inventory.

Basic Pascal version 1.18 "Duckling" – most newest version. In this version there are 4 new games! Puddles at Countryside, Duckling Pseudo 3D, Road to Countryside, Duckling Goes 2D. And even more retro games! It is a pack of retro games with modern versions of Basic and Pascal.

It is now in development new version Basic Pascal pack games. This game will be included in a new version.

Basic Pascal: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/games/basicpascal/index_eng.html Website: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html Itchio: https://dimalink.itch.io/basic-pascal

[sunshineandviolets]

Hello hello! Would you mind answer 16, 18 and 20 for two or three of your lovely ocs?🥹

Heeey Chichi!! and i would love to answer some , thank you!! 😁 will be answering for the estranged sisters <3 [ Questions were from this oc ask game ]

16) Does your OC enjoy school or no? Did they get any education?

Bliss: She was pretty neutral with school, enjoyed learning new things and graduated high school with average grades. Tended to get more lost in her storybooks than focusing in class. Most times than not she is found in the library. She prefers english literature and history. Didn't go to university, stayed with her first job at a local coffee place still in her hometown. Bianca: Did not care for school, unless it was music class or physical education. Was a troublemaker and tended to skip classes with her friends. She had a pretty cool music teacher who encouraged her and her friends to apply for the school talent show. Aka the first time they perfomed for a crowd as a band. Even if it was just a school performance, the response she got was exhilarating and was the spark of her new dream. She also didn't go to university, simply focused on the band. (however, in Infamous IF - she did and graduated. She studied music theory/education.) Isabella: Oh she loved school. Most would consider her a child genius - which she takes pride in. She studies above her own grade, which led to her being moved up a year than the rest of her classmates. She excels most in science, maths and IT. Even joined a robotics and chess club during school. She will eventually go to university and study computer sciences and programming.

18) What is your OC’s greatest fear?

Bliss: A fear of an unfufilled life, that she will remain at a standstill whilst others fly on by. That no one will need her anymore, not be worth enough for anyone to lean on or even love. Bianca: A fear of becoming irrelevent. That she will be forgotton with no legacy to be remembered by. Isabella: A fear of failure and losing her sense of self. Being a child genuis is a heavy weight to hold. With all that expectations to maintain, if she is not 'the smart one'.. she doesn't know who she would be anymore.

20) What hobbies does your OC have?

Bliss: She absoutely loves to bake. It started when she used to bake cookies for her sisters, when they were still together and now baking became a safe haven from the worries of real life. Bliss also enjoys to write fiction and poetry and can pour herself hours into reading. Bianca: Music obviously. but specifically - singing, rap, guitar, piano and drums. Her music tastes tend to lean towards heavy metal, rock and punk. She also enjoys working out, running, cycling and sports (such as: football, rugby and baseball.) Isabella: She loves chess and puzzles. She's quite techy and she enjoys video games, programming and working on robotics. However, she does like to dance - took ballet classes which she adores. Lastly, she knows how to ice skate.

[yourdreamscenarios]

When they cheat on you I part 2

∙ Request ♡ ∙ Word count: ...

Seokjin

“So, have you heard from him?” Sarah asked once more, as if she hadn’t asked that question a thousand times during the past couple of weeks. You rolled your eyes at one of your most cherished band members and even though you loved her, you wished she’d just leave.You’d banned the topic Kim Seokjin in your dorm for as long as you possibly could. But there was a time a person simply could no longer run from their problems. It seemed like you’d reached that point about a week ago, when your members had been done with your sulking and had told you to call him and talk to him. But that was the thing. No matter how much you it hurt you to talk about what had happened and no matter how much it pained you to hear someone say his name, it was nothing compared to the rage you felt. 

It was boiling inside of you, day and night and you were afraid that once you’d no longer have anything left to distract you from all of those bottled up feelings, you’d just loose it.There had never been someone who’d been able to make you feel all of these things. One of the most important people in your life had put a knife in your back and you had never felt more betrayed. He was supposed to be the one who supported you whenever, through whatever. And instead, he had only been thinking of himself and his own needs. “How about no.” You muttered, knowing you were being moody towards them for no reason. They couldn’t help the situation you were stuck in right now. None of it was their fault. 

Yet,  you couldn’t help but feel like you had to be mad at someone, everyone. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to take it out on something. Take boxing classes perhaps? Maybe they’d allow you to put a picture of Seokjin’s face on your punching bag so you might actually be able to let go of some of your anger. It would feel good to actually be able to put a punch to his face without actually having to deal with the consequences. “Don’t you want to hear from him?” Jaimy asked you from across the room, where she was reading her book on the couch, laying upside down.She was one of those human beings you simply couldn’t seem to understand, no matter how hard you tried. 

She was one of the nicest people you knew, but there was something new to learn about her every single day. And hearing her ask you this question, you knew for sure she was rather focused on the novel she was reading than the conversation you were having. “Definitely not.” You said, looking up from the spot behind your laptop to send her a hard stare. As her eyes slowly slipped from the chapter in her book towards yours, she blinked her eyes innocently before going back to her reading. “It might give you some closure, talking to him. Maybe then you can move on, stop being moody.” Kyla muttered softly underneath her breath. Your fingers tingled from the urge to throw something at her while she continued to play her video game like this was some neutral conversation about the weather or your favorite ice cream flavor.

This was your heart they were talking about so carelessly. You had loved that man, for such a long time. You had given him so much of yourself. You had trusted him enough to let him come close to you, to let him know all the small details about you. And still, he’d been able to hurt you the way no one else had been able to do before. You moved back toward your computer, where you’d opened the program which you used for songwriting. You wished there were any more things you could write than lyrics about heartbreak and hating your ex boyfriend, or the way you wanted to slap him with a baseball bat. The last thing you wanted was to have to think of him every single time you had to perform. So these past few days had consisted of you writing them, before saving them in a long forgotten map on your computer where you’d hopefully never have to look at them again.

You told yourself they helped you to progress everything that had happened, but everyone knew that was a round out lie. Why couldn’t your friends just focus on their own problems instead of trying to be your therapist? “We’re just worried about you, you know that right?” Sarah said, looking up from her piano where she had been jamming on some keys, as if she’d heard your thoughts. You demanded your defending posture to back down, trying to convince yourself that was exactly what they were doing. Though, sometimes you couldn’t help but think they were trying to get into the middle of something they just didn’t understand. 

You nodded once, then sent her a small smile which probably looked as awkward on your face as it felt. “Oh god.” Kyla said, pausing her playstation so that a big source of sound fell from the room. Frowning, Jaimy pushed herself upright, fidgeting as she tried to steady herself and not drop her book at the same time. The probing on the piano keys faltered as Sarah looked up from her melody to stare out of the window. It had been raining outside since you’d woken up, which was probably the reason why you’d all decided to stay indoors today. A set of headlights flashed throughout the window and you squeezed your eyes as the light shone straight into your eyes as a car parked on your driveway. 

You’d recognize that vehicle anywhere. You’d sat in those leather seats so often you’d lost count. The lavender smell still seemed to be lingering inside of your nose. It made all the hairs on your limps rise in discomfort. Out of all the things he’d do, you surely hadn’t expected he would show up at your door. You thought that he’d understand, that after ignoring his texts and phone calls, he would get the fact that you simply didn’t want to see him. But Seokjin had never been one to quit so easily and he wasn’t one to give up on something he wanted. Displease churned inside of you as you realized that all your members would be able to see this entire scene happen. 

He’d chosen a hell of a moment to come around for a chat. Listening to the sound of a car door slam shut you stretched out your neck, trying to see beyond the curve of the wall. But you couldn’t manage to spot him before the doorbell rang and he was already standing at the front door. An intense silence fell over the apartment as everybody sat on their spot, frozen. The ticking of the clock in the hall indicated a few seconds had passed before the buzzer went off a second time, and quickly followed by a third. He probably knew you were home and he wasn’t going to give up until someone opened the god damn door. “Well, are you going to open it or are we?” Kyla asked, sending you an uncomfortable look from her spot on the couch. You glared at her while slamming your laptop shut, making sure to make it looked as dramatic as it sounded. 

If you’d find out that one of them had something to do with this sudden appearance, then this wasn’t over yet. The sound of your chair scraping across the floor as you stood echoed against the walls and you took your sweet time making your way towards the hallway and to the front door. The thought that he was standing right outside, getting soaked by the pouring rain made you feel a little bit better. Standing on top of your tiptoes you reached to look out through the peephole and to be honest, what you saw made your stomach drop. You’d never expected it to be easy to see him again after what had happened. It was probably one of the reasons why you had avoided sticking anywhere after showcases or watching too much tv these days. 

You’d avoided his face on purpose, so you wouldn’t have to deal with all of the negative feelings its sight would have to offer. But now, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him, once again realizing how handsome he was. Once, he’d been yours, before he’d decided to mess it all up. Taking a deep breath that crushed your lungs, you ripped the lock from the door and opened it. His hand had once again been on its way towards the doorbell, but paused halfway as he realized you were standing right in front of him. He was drenched, his clothing sticking to him in a way that would have turned you on not such a long time ago. Now, the only thing you felt when you looked at him was agony. A silence passed between the two of you as you stood on the dry side of the house and the rain continued to tickle on top of his head. 

The look inside of his eyes was one you had never seen him wear before. You could sense all the guilt in it, all the pain and the hate he probably felt towards himself. The thing was that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “What do you want Seokjin?” You asked, surprised that you had it in yourself to sound as cold as you did, while you felt your insides falling apart. A visible shiver traveled through him, and the logical part of you told you that you had to move him out of the rain. If you wouldn’t he’d probably get terribly sick tomorrow. But then you reminded yourself that he had done this to himself, it was his own fault he was standing out there in the cold.

“I just want to talk.” He muttered, his voice straining as he looked at something over your shoulder. You didn’t need to turn around in order to know he was watching your members disappear from the living room, creeping up to their bedrooms. On one side you were glad they were giving you the privacy to handle this without them being all over it. On the other side, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to do this alone. “I thought I’d been clear last time? I don’t want to talk to you, nor do I want to see you. I want you to leave me alone.” You spat, hoping he could feel the heat of the fire inside of your voice. You hoped your words hurt him half as much as his action had hurt you. For a brief second he closed his eyes, as if letting go of something he’d held onto until now. 

“Please…” He implored, his voice cracking in the middle of the world. And you realized that perhaps it was his dignity which had just left him, from begging you. God, the strength you held in this situation. It would only take you a second to slam the door in his pathetic face. It would only take you a single breath to tell him ‘no’. But you immediately realized that wasn’t what you needed. Kyla was right, you needed closure. If you ever wanted to move on from what had happened and leave it behind you, you’d have to endure this. It took everything inside of you to put a step aside and let him pass. You could tell he was trying to make eye contact with you as he slipped inside of the house, but you purposely looked down at the trail of drops he was creating on the clean tiles. 

You could feel the memories of all the times he’d been in the dorm probing inside of your mind, willing to surface and make this even harder for you. But you pushed them all back, refusing to give into them. You took your sweet time locking the door, checking twice if you’d done it right. And that time you took to pull yourself back together. Taking deep breaths in through your nose and letting them out through your teeth. No matter what he said, you must never forget what he’d done to you. You must never forget that moment you’d found him in your shared bed with a strange woman underneath him, calling out her name. Straightening your shoulders and flipping back your hair, you turned around and walked towards the living room, where he stood at the centre waiting for you. Once he’d been as much at home here as he’d been in his own dorm. Now, he didn’t even seem sure if he was allowed to sit on the couch. 

You were sure his wet clothing wasn’t the only thing to blame for that. “Well go ahead, talk.” You said, stilling at a safe distance from him. You didn’t want to smell the soft scent of limes coming from him, or see the reflection of yourself in his sad eyes. You told yourself you had to set boundaries, in order to protect yourself. “I wanted to apologize.” He said, and it seemed that only now that he’d said those words out loud, he realized how they sounded. You squared your shoulders and crossed your arms over your chest as you took him in. You could tell the plan he’d made before coming here was starting to unravel in front of his eyes. This wasn’t some kind of fairytale which ended in happily ever after.

This wasn’t the kind of world where love made you forget all the bad and remember only the good. You wondered if until now he’d even realized how high you’d built your walls ever since everything had happened. He would never be able to break them down again. You’d built them brick by brick, to make sure he would never get back in on the other side. What he’d done, wasn’t something an apology was ever going to be able to fix. “I-I know that’s not what you want to hear. But I’m so, so terribly sorry. I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. I never should have done what I did. I will regret it for the rest of my life.” He rattled, wringing his fingers together in front of him. His hair was starting to curl around the ears, in the process of drying up. It was probably the first time you looked him straight in the eye as you answered him. 

“Good.” You’d never known you had it in you to hold these kind of grudges, to be this mean. But then again, nobody had ever treated you the way he had. He swallowed harshly, emotion flickering across his face. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “Maybe I’d like to hear your explain yourself one day. Perhaps one day I could handle having a civilized conversation with you again. But not today. Right now, I hope you’ll feel as hopelessly lonely as I did the past couple of days. I hope one day you’ll find out what it’s like to be left in the cold, to have your heart broken into pieces by someone so important to you, you were willing to give them everything. I hope you’ll find out what it feels like to think it’s all your fault, and you’ll have to handle it on your own.” By now a shimmer of tears swam inside of his eyes and it didn’t take long before the first ones rolled down his cheeks. Not so long ago you would have rushed towards him demanding to know who’d made him this upset so you strangle them.

But right now, you were fighting your own battle and there was only one of you who could win. “Right now, I wish you pain.” You croaked, trying to keep your own emotions in check. You weren’t going to cry, not in front of him. It was one thing to tell him how much he’d hurt you, it was another thing entirely to show him. He nodded, brushing off his tears with his already drenched coat. You could tell he understood, and for now you were able to find peace in that. That he knew that he’d been wrong, and that he would carry this mistake with him for a very long time. You hoped he’d be able to use this lesson in the future, even though you’d both had to learn it the hard way. 

“And now I want you to leave. If I ever wish for you to contact me again, I’ll let you know. Until then, I hope you could at least respect me enough to give me my space.” You said, trying to make him understand that you did not ever want to see him appear on your doorstep again. He shouldn’t try to talk to you when you ran into each other during broadcasts. That he shouldn’t congratulate you on your birthday or text you to ask how you were doing. That he shouldn’t like your Instagram posts and shouldn’t promote your songs. By the look on his face, you could tell he understood, and you could tell it was breaking him apart. Letting out the air you hadn’t known you were holding you stepped aside, creating room for him to let himself back out. He knew how the lock worked, he’d used it many times before.

“Goodbye Kim Seokjin.” You mumbled, for the last time tasting his name on top of your tongue, the feel op it rolling over your lips. You took him in, remember him like this before burying the thought somewhere in a black box in the back of your mind, locking it and stuffing away the key. His steps trembled as he walked past you, his hand briefly brushing past the sleeve of your sweater as in a final greeting. You felt the love which had once been there glide against your skin, tickle your nerves. But you forced it to trickle onto the floor, together with the trace of water he was leaving behind on the floor on his way out.

Namjoon

“Please, please get into the car. You’ll catch a cold out here.” Namjoon said, sticking his head out of the window from the driver’s seat. With your arms crossed over each other you tried to press your coat closer against your body. Protecting yourself from the wind trying to slice through you. For some reason or another, you seemed to welcome the cold. It was exactly what you needed right now, to sober you up and make sure you didn’t give into whatever your heart was trying to tell you. Tears were still running down your cheeks, but you barely felt them. 

Your feelings felt like a hurricane, rushing through you and leaving you breathless. How could he do this to you? After all the time the two of you had spent together. After everything you had shared and the promises you had made to one another. You’d gone through so many hardships together. But in the end, none of it seemed to be enough. Self doubt started creeping in, and your nails pressed half moons inside of the skin of your arms through the fabric of your jacket. No, this was not the time to start blaming yourself. It was something you’d never thought you’d find yourself doing. Thinking someone else’s mistake was your own.

But you couldn’t seem to stop it. Unintentionally, the thoughts started dripping in, and you couldn’t seem to stop them, or ignore them for that part. What if part of this was your fault? Had you started lacking in this relationship? You’d been together for so long, maybe you hadn’t noticed the signs. You’d gained a few pounds while being with Namjoon. You felt comfortable around him, with yourself and your own body. You’d stopped trying to dress up every time you saw him, thinking he accepted you for who you were by now without having to try too hard. After a certain amount of time, you hadn’t bought any sexy lingerie anymore, like that girl in the picture did, because Namjoon knew your body, and you’d expected that to be enough. 

“Honey please, at least let me drive you home.” He’d been following you with the car for what felt like hours now. After you’d ran from the house and had stepped into the cold weather, he’d gotten straight into the car and driven up to where you were walking. Cars were honking as they passed by, clearly annoyed by the fact that Namjoon was deliberately holding up traffic. But if he cared about any of that at all, he didn’t show it. A painful giggle squeezed itself out of your lungs. This was the kind of crazy thing that was only supposed to happen in the movies. Straight after, another sob followed, breaking through your body.

You still refused to look at him, keeping a steady pace as you passed several people on the pavement. They were all giving you weird and stunned looks, which you ignored. Was it just the physical part about the relationship though? Or had he simply stopped loving you? Was the feeling you had no longer enough? Your relationship had been stable from the start. There hadn’t been many surprises, many bumps in the road. You’d both always just gone along with it, without complaining much. Was that it? Had he gotten bored? Bored of you, bored of your love? All of this was so funking painful, you couldn’t even believe it was actually happening. You refused to let your mind wonder off to all the things she might have done to please him. 

To the ways she’d been able to make him feel better than you had. To the things she’d been able to give him that you apparently hadn’t. You’d never felt so small in your entire life. It was terrible, love being such a beautiful thing, but it was able to shatter you in the matter of a heartbeat. “___________, get in the car, right now.” It was the slight annoyance inside of his voice he usually had whenever you wouldn’t agree with him whenever he was trying to prove his point. It was the edge inside of his words that cause you to turn around to face him. You had no idea what he was seeing inside of your expression when he looked at you. But it seemed to make him flinch and his grip around the steering wheel tightened as he searched for something to say.

“You don’t get to boss me around anymore Kim Namjoon.” You could tell that you using his full name was like a punch in the gut for him, but you didn’t care. Actually, honestly, you quite enjoyed seeing him suffer. Because he couldn’t be hurting half as much as you were throughout all of this. After all, if he was, he never would have done what he did. “Let me take you home __________, let’s talk about this. Please, give me a chance to explain.” He tried, sounding desperate as he stopped the car as you stopped walking. To out standers, you probably looked ridiculous. You looked like a couple being dramatic while having a stupid fight over nothing. If they only knew. 

“And then what? Is this the point where you’re going to tell me that you don’t know that woman? Or that nothing happened? That you didn’t fuck her? Or that it didn’t mean anything, and you regretted it from the moment it happened? Or were you going to tell me that you will never do it again? Oh, no wait, you were drunk! Is that it?!” With every word that left your mouth, your voice raised louder and louder. Every emotion was searching for a way out, and it had been a long time since you’d felt this good screaming. Namjoon’s lips parted, as if he wanted to speak up, but you could see it in his eyes, that he had nothing left to say. There was nothing he could say to make up for this. There was nothing he could do to undo what he had done. It was as if he only just now seemed to notice how much damage he’d wreaked.

You ignored the drops of rain which were gradually starting to fall from the sky, landing on top of your head. It seemed as if the weather was feeling sympathetic with you, as if it understood what you were going through, knew what you needed. The sky was crying with you, weeping over everything you’d lost, everything that was no longer to be. In a matter of minutes, your entire life had fallen apart. “I’m not getting in the car with you. I’m not going to let you explain. I don’t want to hear whatever it is you have to say. I’m not coming home with you, not now, not ever. It’s over.” Never in a million years had you expected to say these words to him. 

He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, your past, your present and your future. Yet, if that didn’t go both ways, then what had you been doing all along? If all things happened for a reason, then you had a very difficult time seeing one right now. Namjoon looked completely beaten down as the rain tickled down on the windshield, not even reaching out for the wipers. He seemed to be frozen in place, hurt plastered all over his face as he realized he’d lost you, and there was nothing he could do to make it right. You looked at him one last time, and swore there would be a day when you’d look up at his face, and you would no longer feel the agony you felt right now, as you turned around and walked away. 

Hoseok

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, your back and in between your breasts. Your breath coming out in little puffs as you let the music flow through you. Your feet moved to the beat without even trying, not missing a single step. By now you’d gone through this choreography so many times, you barely had to think about it. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to think. You wanted to get lost, lost in the moves, in the melody. You didn’t want to give your head the time to register everything it had seen, everything it had learner over the past few hours. After you’d fled from Hoseok, you came straight here, and you’d been here for hours. 

You’d watched dancers come and go, and you were the only one staying behind. It was almost four in the morning, and your body started protesting. Fatigue was trying to take over, your arms becoming heavy and your feet getting slowed down. But you refused to give in. You knew what would happen when you got home, to your quiet apartment, which hadn’t felt like home in a long time since you’d practically moved in with Hoseok a few months ago. Going back there, it felt absolutely horrible. You’d always thought you’d sell the place, gather your stuff and live happily ever after with the love of your life. You should have known it sounded too good to be true.

You were afraid that as soon as the quiet would gather around you, you would no longer be able to fight the feelings threatening to drown you. That the images of him snogging that girl would pop back into your mind, and they would never leave again. If you’d decided to go home, you knew you’d never been able to sleep in the first place. The song ended, and you were planning on pressing replay, when all of a sudden, a knock sounded on the door. The studio had been deserted for hours now. Most people came here at a reasonable hour, and not in the middle of the night. Your step faltered halfway towards your phone, and you turned your head towards the door just in time to watch it open. 

You threw your head back and let it rest in the back of your neck while staring up at the ceiling as you saw who entered. “Oh fuck me.” You muttered, tugging the band out of your hair, only to gather it back up on the top of your head and turn it into a messy bun. Hoseok stood in the middle of the doorway, clearly looking uncomfortable. At first he couldn’t even look at you as he fiddled with his hands in front of himself, his gaze pointed towards the floor. You wanted to yell at him, and all the frustration you’d been trying to hold off seemed to swirl inside of you just by the sight of him. Yet, after a few seconds, as if he could tell he’d caught your attention, his eyes met yours. Your jaw clenched painfully as you saw the look on his face.

What did he expect? For you to feel sorry for him as you spotted the guilt written all over it? “Get to the point of get out.” You snapped, making your way over to the other side of the room where you’d put your phone on a chair. Scooping it up, you shut down your music app and grabbed the towel lying beside it to wipe away your sweat. The silence inside of the room was deafening after the blasting of the music had stopped. If you hadn’t known any better you might have wondered how he had found you here. But the two of you both knew where you went in order to let off some steam. There was nothing that helped you better to clear your head than dancing. A thing you both had in common. A thing you’d both been passionate about. 

“I swear what you saw in there is not what you think.” He started, and you shook your head, throwing the towel into your bag and zipping it up. Were you seriously supposed to stay here while he was going to give you that bullshit? “What do you take me for? Are you really going to treat me like I’m stupid?” You asked, and you could see the alarm bells going off inside of his head as he listened to your snappy response. You wondered how he had expected this conversation to go. If he’d come here with the thought that he still stood a chance of he only apologized.

“Because if not you wouldn’t say such a thing. Are you going to tell me she forced herself on you? That you weren’t enjoying yourself when I walked in? Because it sure as hell didn’t look as if you were going anything against your own will.” It surprised you how sober you felt while talking about this. It was as if you had the lead role in some kind of movie. As if the life you were living right now wasn’t yours. You knew that once everything would sink in, you would probably spend hour on end bawling your eyes out. You would scream, and scold yourself for letting him go. For not forgiving him and taking him back. It was going to take you a very long time to get over this. “I didn’t mean it. If I could undo it, I would right now. I don’t even like her. She’s been after me for weeks…” 

You felt like punching him when he said that, and you were very close to growling at him. Everything he said enraged you even more. It was like adding oil to a flame, growing out to become a terrible, uncontainable fire. “Don’t you dare put me up against her! They were your actions! You did this to us! And I will not accept you blaming another woman for your own stupid behavior! You make me sick!” You yelled, and all of a sudden, you knew you could no longer be in the same room as him. He no longer resembled the man you had once fallen in love with. You had never once thought that he’d ever do something like this to you. But neither had you ever expected that he wouldn’t own his own mistakes.

Grabbing hold of your bag, you swung it over your shoulder as you walked towards him, making e beeline for the door. “And if this is what you see as an apology, then you have a lot left to learn.” You were so close to him it would only take a matter of seconds to overcome the distance between the two of you. It would be so much easier for you to forget all of this had happened, and just say that you forgave him, move on. But you would never be able to live with yourself if you did that. Whatever had been between the two of you, it was broken beyond repair, and it could never be mended. 

“I never want to see your face again. You disgust me.” His bottom lip actually trembled at your words, and his hand fisted at his side, as if he had to stop himself from reaching out to you, to stop you from leaving. But you could see it in his eyes, that he knew there was nothing left to do. This could have been beautiful, the life you could have had together. It could have been something you’d both dreamed of. But now, it had turned into something that would never be, something you would never know.  

Yoongi

Walking into the café, you were immediately hooked on the smell of coffee. It used to give you an adrenaline rush, and the smell always made you happy. These days, there was a negative feeling being thrown into the mix. Somehow you couldn’t help but letting the feelings from last time you’d been here come forward. It had seemed like the easiest thing to do, meeting up again in this spot. Where you’d found out, and where you wanted to see things through until the end. Plus, it somehow didn’t feel right to do this at your place, or at his. Either of you needed to get the chance to get away as soon as they felt like it. 

And you didn’t want to have the memories of this conversation lingering in your home after it was over. The fact that you had to have this conversation on its own, was terrible enough as it was. You gave the barista your order, and slid into a booth in the corner of the room after she confirmed she’d bring it to you as soon as it was done. A deep sigh escaped from you as you leaned back against the seat, gazing out of the window. You’d avoided this moment for a while. It had been quite a lot for you to wrap your head around after Yoongi had given you the information he’d cheated on you. You appreciated him for telling you in person, sparing you from the shame of having to find out through someone else.

Two weeks later you still didn’t feel ready to face everything. Not seeing him had helped you giving everything a place inside of your mind. But knowing he would be here soon and you would have to endure this conversation had your heart beating double time. You had definitely gone through a few of the stages of a breakup the past couple of days, and you were absolutely exhausted. As he told you what he had done, you hadn’t been able to grasp it. It was a reality you didn’t want to know existed. You couldn’t believe that the man you had loved to fondly, had done this to you. No matter which excuses he thought of. You had never thought he would be capable of doing something like this. 

By the time you’d gotten home after finding out, you’d been so incredibly angry. Angry at yourself, for trusting someone as dearly as you had trusted him. You had given him your heart. Christ, you had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away. And for what? For one evening with someone else? To forget his problems for a few hours? But most of all you had been angry with him. Furious for what he had done to you, and for how much he had hurt you. Angry, for telling you the truth, because if he hadn’t then at least you’d still been happy. Disappointed, since he didn’t love you enough to not need anyone else but you. You’d been angry for a very long time. You still weren’t done being angry to be honest, and you knew you would be for much longer.

And then the process had started of trying to figure out what you were to do with everything he had told you. How could you possibly move past this? He had betrayed you, your trust and had indirectly told you that your love was no longer significant to him. And apart from that, he had proven to you that you could never put your trust in him again. Because what would prevent him from doing this again? He said he was sorry, and that might be true. But one could feel terrible about something, but still repeat that action. Trust that was once broken could not be restored. A relationship depended on it. Without it, it didn’t mean anything. You wanted to pretend it had never happened, deny the entire thing. But that was impossible. 

Every time you thought about Yoongi, it was as if there was a hole inside of your chest. Your heart broken into tiny little pieces. How could something so beautiful be destroyed by one action? And after crying your eyes out for days, not having any appetite, and not being able to get out of bed, you had finally decided that it was time for the two of you to talk. You needed to get this over with, because otherwise you would never be able to get any closure. “One latte.” You looked up to see Yoongi putting your coffee down in front of you. Inside of your chest, your heart had no idea what it was supposed to do. For the first second it betrayed you by fluttering softly. But the next, it seemed to shatter, and a pain you didn’t know you could feel without any physical injury took master of you.

He looked just as handsome as he normally did, but there was a certain sadness that felt like a shadow all around him. It seemed to follow him everywhere he went. As he sat down across of you in the booth, you noticed he looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t had any decent sleep in days. “You look tired.” You spoke before you could change your mind. Internally you scolded yourself. The last thing you wanted was for him to think that you were worried about him, not after what he’d done. “Yeah, I’ve had a hard time sleeping last week. Can’t seem to quiet my mind.” After that, an awkward silence fell over the two of you. It was as if you were both trying to hold on to what had been, even if it was just for a few more minutes. 

Because you both knew, that once either of you would speak up, that fantasy was about to come to an end. “I’m really glad you asked me to come. I thought you might no longer want to see me after…” The remaining part of his sentence was floating around in the air, and you both didn’t want to finish it. You cleared your throat and brought your coffee up to your lips, taking a sip without actually tasting anything. It gave you a minute to collect your thoughts before answering. “At first I didn’t.” His lips pulled together in a sad smile at those words and he sighed before combing his fingers through his hair. He looked sincerely sad because of it. His gaze drifted off towards the table, as if he was no longer able to look at you.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now. And the truth is, I don’t think I can forgive you for what you did. I would be lying to myself if I’d tell you that I would ever be able to move past this. I just can’t. You really hurt me Yoongi.” Your voice was soft, as if even after all of this, you were still scared of hurting him. He leaned his elbows on top of the table, resting his face in the palms of his hands. You couldn’t tell whether he was crying, even though you knew he wasn’t someone who was easily emotional. “I know. I don’t deserve for you to forgive me.” His voice sounded hoarse, and there was a part of you that wanted to reach out to him, giving him a gentle squeeze. 

But that part of you was broken and so your hands remained where they were. “I really respect you for telling me the truth when you had the chance. But right now, I think you’re an absolute asshole for what you did.” He dropped his hands, and his eyes looked slightly red as he looked at you. He was drinking you in, as if this was the last time he might ever be able to look at you from this close. “But, maybe because of your honesty, we might be able to be friends one day.” Because no matter how difficult this was, and no matter how much you hated him right now. He wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to miss being in your life. He smiled sadly, running his fingers across his wet cheek. “I’d like that very much.”

Jimin 

Coming soon...

[secretlythepits]

Just a Rant

I don’t think I told you guys how hard it was to get my kids registered for school this year. Both kids had their own issues that seemed to clog the system so they required dozens, and I do mean dozens of emails to counselors, registrars, principals, the school district, an educational lobbyist, the state DOE. And this was in the midst of finding about my husband’s cancer and what treatment would be.

Today one school called and said they needed health forms they never told me about. Then a teacher who runs a program at one school wanted me to switch my other kid back to his program. Details I handled, but like please, oh please let this be done. It is taking so much of my attention. Also, the kids are taking some online classes through the state and haven’t been assigned teachers yet, so we’re twiddling our thumbs (an old-fashioned euphemism I’m repackaging to mean f%*king video games!) instead of doing school work.

Then the dentist appointment that was supposed to happen before school had to be rescheduled because the dentist’s entire computer system crashed. There’s an orthodontist appointment next week too, a new addition to our busy lives. And my husband has treatment on Friday.

When am I supposed to be able to work?

When am I supposed to be able to have some time to focus on my goals and my health?

It’s not just me crying for space in my life. Things like my husband’s pain are alarms saying: you might have to be the sole provider at any minute. And I literally cannot do that now. I need a chance to complete my project and get it to market. I cannot take care of everybody and build a career out of nothing at the same time. Besides preferring this kind of work, I can’t commit to a traditional job right now because my caregiving and mom schedules are just too demanding and unpredictable. I have no help. My friends will step in during an emergency. My in-laws did nada during our first cancer journey. My family and my dearests and on the opposite coast. Nobody is ever going to pick up the slack but me.

Still, work has to happen. These little scares, because that’s what I have to assume my husband’s pain is, feels like the Universe snapping me to attention and warning me that my time before the catastrophe is running out.

And my brain.

I’m having more and more slips. I can’t remember words. Say wrong words. Can’t access memories from a couple weeks ago. Had a couple of spells when I couldn’t walk. I need to have some calm, peace, and open stretches of time to calm my nervous system. I felt like I was 95% better, but now I’ve fallen to 85- 88%. It worries me.

(I will say I have an odd relationship with my brain, because as much as I struggle with the detail, conceptually, I’ve never felt so smart. It honestly feels like my brain damage has both good and bad sides to it. it’s counterintuitive, I know, but I think I’m right.)

The dentist just showed me I cracked a tooth from clenching. I wake up in full body clenches many nights. I cannot be mindful when I am unconscious.

Many people in my support system are educators so they are in the back to school overwhelm. There isn’t anything they could say or do to help so I’m just sitting here with very big feelings. I’m supposed to ground my husband and protect my kids.

Yet again a mom is asking: Who is looking out for me?

.

.

And I am worried about what the doctor will say tomorrow. It could be very bad or relatively ok. Even ok would bother me since it’s so much aggravation and added stress for nothing. But of course, added stress for something is much worse. Aaaaaaahg!

Good night. I’m grabbing my ice packs and a book about chocolate and praying for sweet dreams.