#i'm writing python as if all that happened before... well happened

[catt-nuevenor]

The Future

Time to establish what's going to happen from this point forwards.

The vast majority of you have been exceptionally patient this last year, and for that you have my deepest thanks. You've given me the time to not only write a book, but edit it, and send it off to literary agents, something I would have long given up on doing without the continued support of those who enjoy my writing.

Now that the book is off doing the rounds independently, it's time I got back to Myrk Mire.

Originally Myrk Mire was built in ChoiceScript, a scripting language created by the Choice of Games company. Choice of Games control what is done with their script, understandably, they own it. This does pose some restrictions. I can't, for example, release any paid material built using ChoiceScript unless it is directly through their publishing label. If I do publish under their label, I maintain IP or Intellectual Property Rights, however I also grant them the exclusive rights under perpetual license to publish the multiple choice game 'electronically'.

Source: Choice of Games.com

As you can see from the outline above, they do make exceptions for stories published in non-competing formats, and for sequels, prequels, and spin-offs. However, traditional publishing houses might require stricter control over IP, distribution, and exclusivity. It will only become more and more complicated as things progress, and being locked into a perpetual license agreement of any nature is not a decision to make lightly.

As some of you may be sensing from the tone of all this so far, I'm going to be moving Myrk Mire away from Choice of Games and ChoiceScript, and into a new medium/format.

After tinkering, and trialling with a few alternatives, I've decided to go with Renpy. Renpy, while largely used for visual novel style games and stories, provides a very workable framework for interactive fiction, and is an Open Source script, it isn't beholden to publishing contracts, licence cost, or exclusivity.

I'm not going to be diving into transferring Myrk Mire right away, it's a huge piece of writing, in an entirely different scripting language, and as previously stated, there are a lot of changes I want to implement with the cast. Instead, I'm creating a trial story: One Háḟest Day. My Patrons have been aware of all this for about a month or so, and have already seen some previews.

One Háḟest Day takes place in Aldmirham before the events of Myrk Mire, around the time the Main Character and the Wanderers first arrived in town. The reader will have the choice to follow one of the romanceable characters through a single day, with opportunities to explore their lives and relationships before the Main Character and Child come along. I hope it will provide a proving ground for the changes that previously caused debate, and an opportunity for people to try out the new format and interface.

My plan is to distribute One Háḟest Day through Itch.io, working with their early access framework and voluntary payments for such as soon as one of the character routes is ready to play from beginning to end, updating regularly with the other characters as they too are completed, and with additional features as required. Once the full game is complete, I will release a separate full build with a set minimum price that can be discussed with the community as we move forwards.

At the second, I'm aiming for a web hosted format and a desktop/laptop downloadable format, with phone compatibility to come later down the line once things are stable.

I will post production updates and info when I can to tumblr, though a lot of what I'm doing now is very python coding heavy, so perhaps not that interesting?

I've included some screenshots below of very early development, featuring a Character Log and Word Log that I hope will allow readers to more easily navigate the story. I'm toying with the idea of having a Mysteries Log as well that will keep track of snippets of information gleaned from each character's route, but that can be a tinkering feature for now.

Let me know your thoughts, concerns, or excitement, though do keep all messages objective and polite.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

the pjo tv show is making me have thoughts about hephaestus & apollo’s dynamic, as well as apollo & ares dynamic — so i was wondering if you had any hcs for either duo or both !!

GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE

I do for sure have some Thoughts on Apollo & Ares so I shall start there.

Apollo & Ares

Favorite Son and Least Favorite Son.

After Apollo was born, we all know he went on a mission to avenge his mom. That included killing Python, but I also headcanon this preteen storming up to Ares and demanding a fight for his mom's honor.

This was brought on because in the mythos, Ares actually chased Leto around and drove her from place to place, never letting her rest for long.

Obviously, Apollo isn't too keen on this and demands a duel.

Ares takes one look at this kid and goes you know what? I like his spunk. I'm keeping him. and lo and behold Apollo gets distracted by Ares showing him how to properly grip a sword's blade.

Also fun fact! In Ancient Greece, fathers raised their sons and mothers the daughters. Fathers would teach their sons how to swim and write, so this gets interesting once you put ToA's context with it.

In all honesty, I don't think Zeus was too involved in Apollo's growth. He was still there, of course! Enough to have a hold on him and. well. manipulate/gaslight him/abuse him.

However heartbreaking it would be to think about Zeus teaching Apollo these things (my heart. my poor sobbing heart.), I would also find it heartwarming if Ares did that instead.

Or Poseidon. But I personally think he taught Apollo how to ride horses. Let Ares have his thing :3

Because wouldn't it make sense that if Zeus couldn't find the time teach Apollo, then that responsibility would fall to the eldest son?

Jump to the giant twins now.

Apollo helps Ares recover. That is all.

THEY WERE ON THE SAME SIDE IN THE TROJAN WAR !!!!!!

Okay so. Diomedes tried to stab Apollo a few times when he was rescuing Aeneus, and Apollo CANONICALLY tells Ares about it - and lo and behold, Ares gets into a fight with Diomedes (and gets shish-kabobbed).

SO I CONCLUDE-

Apollo: Diomedes tried to stab me :(

Ares: WHAT.

Apollo: Yeah three times.

Ares: WHY.

Apollo: Aphrodite's kid? Aeneus? I was saving his ass after Diomedes stabbed Aphrodite.

Ares: THAT BITCH.

Apollo: But don't worry I took care of it-

Ares, picking up his spear and sword: HE SHALL TREMBLE BEFORE MY FURY. NOT EVEN HIS ARMOR WILL MARK HIS GRAVE WHEN I FINISH WITH HIM. HE SHALL CHOKE ON THE BLOOD HE HAS SPILT AND I SHALL LAUGH AS HIS CORPSE DECAYS. HE WILL RUE THE DAY HE HARMED EITHER OF YOU-

Apollo: he didn't touch me tho-

Ares: BUT HE TRIED!

Ares, snapping his cape: I shall take my leave. Got a bastard to stab. rides down and fights beside Hector. gets stabbed by Diomedes.

Ares, clutching his stomach: ...this didn't go as planned.

Apollo, patching it up after Zeus yelled at Ares: you don't say?

anyway. Apollo & Ares would also watch battlefields and Ares would basically be like "right. this is how to properly disembowel your enemies!" gruesomely decapitates some poor mortal. "See? Easy!"

also they would sing!!! war hymns and other things. Ares can dance too btw :3

also when Aphrodite and Apollo were polyculing with Adonis, Ares was doublely jealous because Adonis is 1) taking the attention of his girlfriend and 2) banging his favorite brother

Ares also cautioned Apollo about drawing too much attention to himself, especially Zeus's.

Too bad Apollo didn't quite take it to heart...

I think Ares already knows Apollo is being abused by Zeus. He knows the signs. He knows what's happening...because it happened to him first.

He would drop hints. Which...weren't very subtle, and kinda freaked Apollo out a bit because ohmygodsdoesheknow-?

And when Revolution time came around? You bet Ares sensed it coming from a mile away.

And perhaps he did...hmm...like with the master bolt theft...ooo gonna have to marinate that for a bit. see what i can cook up there. or if any of you have theories shoot them at me!

back to the thing. Once Ares catches wind It's A Go...he's gonna be on Apollo's side. Because godsdammit he's sick of Zeus and his horrible parenting a good war would give him a clean slate.

...Even if he has to put up with both Hera and Athena.

Apollo & Hephaestus

okay so. I haven't thought much about them because they are elusive for me BUT-

The show gave me a THOUGHT!

"Some of us don't like being that way either."

HEPHAESTUS DOESN'T LIKE THE SYSTEM. HE DOESN'T! HE HATES GOING ALONG WITH IT!

MY FIRST THOUGHT WHEN I HEARD THOSE WORDS?

APOLLO

he doesn't want to be part of it either. but he buried it inside himself. but post toa...he doesn't want to do that anymore.

and I think Apollo does like Hephaestus! I remember there was a moment where Apollo mentions being in his study or something and missing the entire 40s or whatever staring at Hephaestus's Newton's Cradle.

why was apollo in there. and did hephaestus let him in there?

BECAUSE HEPHAESTUS IS A PRIVATE GUY RIGHT? WHAT'S APOLLO DOING IN A PRIVATE ROOM OF HIS?

...unless he invited him in :D

I need to do a lil' more digging on Hephaestus and Apollo but I hope this was all interesting :3

feel free to add on readers!

[urlocalloser10191]

Writing a detailed plan on what I want for the future because I'm silly like that(i feel like kunikuda writing all this shit out haha):

Friends: i definitely want to meet w some of my friends(like @/narcissus10191, @/mushroom-enby, @/abs0l3m, and so many more) irl, and maybe live w some of my friends like @/kou-crazy !

Apartment: i would love a small lil place, big enough to be comfortable tho ! i'd love to live in a not super polluted city! before I rly wanted to live in a place like kyoto, but nowadays i'd love to live in a place where i could bike, so maybe somewhere like amsterdam ! i really want to have a bedroom zoo, including (not all, but a lot bcuz i'm animal obsessed) but not limited to: ball python, my red eared slider(love you a'tuin <3), cats, rabbit, hamsters, reptiles(other ones, not sure), box turtle, a dog(only if @kou-crazy is joining me haha), a bird like a parakeet or smt ! i'd also love having just a little bed, a small window in my room, a nice lil kitchen, and a wardrobe w shit I'd actually want haha, and obvs enough room to house the animals ! i'd also LOVE LOVE LOVE to get a bunch of plants cuz i'm lowk a plant parent >v<

Jobs and Education: education(college n uni n such) wise, i'd LOVE LOVE LOVE to go to a school like yale or julliard( yes ik they're very different hush) and maybe major in veterinary things, psychology, music(violin), theatre, biology, anything ! i'm not super sure what i wanna do with my future, but i think i'd have fun !! i defo want to work in smt that pays well but is still something i would enjoy doing, and i'd really like to be able to hybrid work and come into the office some days but stay home others, as some days i don't have energy....

Transportation: this isn't important to a bunch of people, but it SO is for me! i love love love bikes, so i'd love living in a place where i could go on trails and use my bike(yes i would obviously decorate it and get a basket wdym) and i also love taking the train(yes i am weird, get over it) so i would want to be able to use that as transport as well :)

note: yes, this is a pretty romanticized version of life ! that is because i am dreaming. will all of this happen? most certainly not. but it sort of gives me something to look forward to, which is what i need right now.

[noisyquokka]

By A Thread...

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - When life leaves you hanging off the end of your rope, fighting on your own is a struggle. You thank the universe for giving you that one person who can always make those struggles a little more bearable.

WORDCOUNT - 3.5k

WARNINGS - TRIGGER WARNING *** Talks/thoughts of suicide, description of panic attacks, anxiety, reader's mental health has tanked (Please don't read if you aren't comfortable with these)*** angst, comfort, emotional support, childhood friends || Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N - I started this writing piece to help me get through a really tough mental health episode. While I didn't finish it during that time, something brought me back to it recently and it's a bittersweet feeling to have completed it. After thinking about things for a bit, I've decided that I'd post this for anyone else who may be going through those difficult thoughts, or who has in the past. Chan's Room has always been a safe space for me, and I know a lot of us resonate with that.

Knowing this is a heavy fic, I feel it appropriate to leave a link to suicide hotlines. This site has international hotlines for those of you outside of the U.S. as well as other useful info. I know this planet is a questionable place to be existing on at the moment, but the human experience isn't complete without some struggles. We can all get through it, whatever it is we're struggling with. I'm proud of you! 💛

You shut the door to the apartment, slugging your shoes off at the entrance. The stresses of the day weigh heavily on your shoulders, tense and aching as you trudge through the hallway toward your bedroom.

"You're home early." Chan's bubbly voice resonates through the apartment; a welcoming sound. If you would've acknowledged it, that is. Brown eyes shift from the blue-light of the laptop at the lack of a response, catching the ghost of your body whiz through the kitchen from his spot on the sofa. Your footfalls reverberate against the floorboards. It was the door slamming shut, rattling the walls, the electrifying static that had purged into the space. That's when Chan knew that something wasn't right.

You sag against the woodgrain of the door, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of self-consoling as you slowly slide floorward on shaky legs. Breaths come in shallow puffs of air, your lungs constricting like a mouse in the death grip of a python. Everything that had happened today had finally tripped the tidal wave of negative thoughts you had been pushing down for... God knows how long now. You can't remember. All you know is you want it to end before these thoughts drag you too deep into the rabbit hole to where you can't crawl back out on your own.

Trembling fingers wipe the tears from your cheeks, although it seems futile when fresh ones retrace their tracks down your skin. You focus in on your breathing with a shaky breath and furrowed brows. A deep breath in. Hold.

5...4...3...2...1...

A deep breath out.

A soft rapping on the door startles you, shoulders jerking violently. You know who it is before he even speaks your name, voice muffled beyond the barrier of the door, soft and laced with concern.

"Hey, you alright?"

The crease between your brows deepen as your ears pop, drums a void of rumbles and vibrations as if someone stuffed them full of cotton. Teary, bloodshot eyes tilt toward the ceiling.

"Yeah," You wince at the warble in your voice, clearing your throat before trying again. "Yeah! I'm fine, Chan." When no response comes from beyond the door, you know. You know that he knows you are far from fine.

Chan's shadow crawls up the hallway of the shared apartment as he shoulders his weight against the doorframe to your room. He could count the amount of times you two have found yourselves in this very predicament on his fingers three times over. Most nights he'd ask if he could come in and you would both talk about what was bothering you.

Tonight wasn't most nights, though.

Chan shifts himself so his back is against the doorframe, sliding down the woodgrain until he's settled on the wood floor, legs crossed beneath him. He bites the flesh of his cheek at the sound of your sniffles, his heart aching in his chest.

"You wanna talk?" He asks, and you feel your composure cracking at his tone. So courteous and careful, like always. You nod your head, tongue darting out to lick chapped lips and salty tears.

"Sure."

"Alright, let's see..." Chan trails off, taking a deep breath as he racks his brain for a topic. Something to take your mind off your troubles. His lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as he turns his head toward the door. "What's your favourite flower?"

"What?" You scoff, wiping the tears from your cheeks. He begins to repeat himself, and you cut him off.

"You already know the answer to that, Chan."

"Sunflowers." He says, resting an elbow against one knee. "We were what... nine and twelve when you became obsessed with them because Ms. Keller had planted some in her yard down the street." 

Chan's smiling. You can hear it in his voice. 

"When your dad bought some sunflower seeds from the store, you stole some from the bag and I helped you dig a hole in the backyard so you could plant them. You watered them for months until the weather got too cold. They never grew because they were roasted sunflower seeds." He's rattling on as if he's experiencing the memory all over again behind those brown eyes of his.

Your laugh is broken and groggy - a candle's light in the dark, casting away shadows that had built up in the corners of the apartment - but it's the reason that Chan's heart skips when it flows beneath the door.

"Oh my god, I forgot about that," You reply, sniffling behind long sleeves. "I thought if my parents found out we planted them that they'd be mad."

The image of you and Chan sneaking around the yard in search of a shovel and a watering can is a core memory, the spring sunshine kissing your skin. The smell of freshly turned dirt and a handful of salty sunflower seeds is as vivid in your mind as the man beyond the door.

"But the next spring, Ms. Keller came over and helped us plant some sunflowers in your yard because your dad seen us trying to plant his roasted seeds in the far corner of the garden."

You chuckle as Chan recalls the memory, eyes downcast to the floor. Everything was so carefree and enjoyable as a kid, and now it feels like work to find just a fraction of enjoyment in your life. Too much anxiety over whether or not you're on the right path, nevermind worrying that you're going about living life the wrong way. As if there's some manual to go by. Your chest tightens and you hold your breath, wet lashes fluttering.

Everything is quiet for a moment, save for the wall clock ticking softly.

"I understand why you always loved them." Chan says, and for a moment it sounds like words he didn't mean to verbalize. You know him better than that. "They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

You swallow down the ball of nerves, but that does nothing to quell your active tear ducts. Chan tilts his head toward the door at the sounds of your untamed whimpers, brows furrowing.

"Can I come in?" His voice is sheer lace, delicate as he reaches out to you. And you are well beyond your breaking point, rubbing at your wet, matted lashes. He listens carefully for the sounds of shuffling beyond the door, or even your verbal consent.

The lock on the door lets off a subtle click as you wrap shaky fingers around the knob and twist. He's off the floor before you can swing the door open, meeting your gaze with ember eyes that shine like the hearth of a home.

There you are.

The one constant in Chan's life since the first grade. You, standing in front of him in your crumbling state, trying desperately to hold yourself together like a tattered flag in a storm; a whole piece of fabric battered and torn by gale force winds, frayed edges violently tearing away until single threads are all that's left.

And there he is. Your life raft saving you from drowning in the choppy waters of your mind. Chan stands with open arms, awaiting the inevitable weight of your head against his chest. Your skeleton rattles against wound muscle and vermilion-coated veins when you take a step forward. As the weight of your world comes crashing down upon his shoulder, he holds you with the utmost care, strong arms encircling you as if afraid that you would break under the pressure. The warmth of his body only eggs on the tears, breaking your composure further as you collapse into him. Sobs wrack your body, muffled in his shoulder. Shaky fingers grasp for something to hold onto.

"It's alright," Chan murmurs, digging his nose into your scalp. You feel him press kisses into your scalp, breathing you in as your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. Fingers splay against your back, soothing shapes and gentle motions running the expanse of your spine, rocking the two of you back and forth. His warmth cradles you, soothes your pain. You never feel shame in these arms. Only the strongest, surest form of love and support that you could ever find in someone. Chan's heart drums against his chest. "You can let it out, it's just me."

You don't know what Gods had decided that you were worthy of such a soul, but right now the only way you think you can thank them is through your violent sobs. Grief and gratitude blend together. You needed this comfort desperately, and it shows in your inconsolable tears. In how quiet you are, unable to verbalize much of your inner monologue when it's thrashing around the confines of your psyche like a hurricane. If a Category five was the worst, you were sitting at a nonexistent Category seven. Chan's words echo in your mind.

"They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

There's no point in trying to compose yourself. The floodgates have opened. You feel yourself overheating and yet you crave the comfort that Chan is offering, whispering words of encouragement as you press your face into his shoulder. Soothing each scar that litters the muscle in your chest that beats like hummingbird wings.

"Am I a bad person for wanting to die?"

Your brain is so overwhelmed that your mouth opens without a second thought. You hope your words fall on deaf ears, what with how most of them were interrupted by broken hiccups and a pounding head. But when Chan's body goes rigid under your touch, you know he's heard you. His grip tightens, your name whispered against your hair as his voice catches in his throat. If he felt something was off when you walked in the door earlier, it was painfully obvious now. You were lost. Utterly lost and alone, sending out an S.O.S in the labyrinth of your miserable mind. He's talked you down from the brink of destruction many times through the years. To say he was heaven-sent would be a severe understatement. But this was different to the others. Hearing those words come from anyone was enough to bowl him over. Hearing them come from your mouth, though? He's never heard you speak this way in all his years of knowing you. He wanted to know what had been the origin of your tears, but this was not where he expected the conversation to go.

Your breath catches as you sense how much your words affected him. Chan's silence weighed heavily in the air, your words sinking into the hard wood floors until they were weighted with lead. You pull away from him, gaze downcast as you wipe away the tears on your face. A flood of guilt crashes over you, throat constricting like a zip tie closing around your esophagus.

Put the mask back on. Rebuild your walls. You've fucked up now.

"I-I'm fine. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." You turn your head, unable to bring yourself to look at your best friend since childhood as more tears fall from doused lashes. Your chest tremors for putting that burden on him, something you hadn't meant to say in the first place. You've never said those words out loud before. You never wanted people to worry. Never wanted to be a problem for them. But here you stand, bearing intrusive thoughts to your best friend. It was like throwing a pile of bricks at him and expecting him to bear all that weight with no trouble.

"You're not. Look at me, listen to me." He says, taking your shaking shoulders with a gentle yet firm grip to turn you towards him again. Calloused fingers brush against your jaw, tipping your chin up to meet your glassy eyes. Brown optics flicker across your face, moving from feature to feature with the deepest concern. There's an emptiness in your eyes that twists Chan's heart, the ache so miserable that tearing the muscle from behind the wall of marrow would be more bearable than leaving it be. Chan's tone is adamant, steady despite the weight of the words you've just entrusted to him. "No, you're not."

New tears retrace the old tracks down exhausted epidermis, eyebrows sliding in as you feel Chan press another kiss to your scalp, lingering a moment longer than before. Chan's response only causes you more anxiety, unsure what exactly he's referring to. Not fine or not a bad person for having such heavy thoughts? He must pick up on it, quick to speak up again.

"You're not a bad person at all, and I think you know that. You're just struggling right now, and that's okay."

You sniffle and shake your head, fighting against a tidal wave of hysterics.

"But, what if I..." You swallow, your mind so jumbled you're unable to spit out the words in their original form. "What if I can't get through this?"

"Oh, love..." Chan murmurs, his voice tremulous. It takes everything in him to reign in his own tears. The very thought of you giving in to those intrusive thoughts is like driving a dagger through his heart. His hands leave your face and wrap around you again, his strong hold tightening until you're lifted off the ground, cradled in his arms as he walks toward your bed. You are so tired, physically and mentally overwhelmed by his compassion and the gentle way in which he carries you. You fold into him like a tired newborn. Being tucked into secure arms as he lays you in bed feels like something more intimate than anything you've ever known. Chan is quick and careful when he settles in beside you.

"You don't need to say a word," He whispers, brushing stray hairs from your face and wiping your tears. "just listen to me."

You nod, a broken whimper escaping your throat as he pulls you into his arms. Chan rubs your back soothingly, letting you cry like a child, and he holds you like letting you go would be a criminal offense.

"You don't have to tell me what brought you to this point, I don't need to know if you don't want me to." He starts, his voice rumbling through his chest as he speaks. It offers you some modicum of comfort as you rest one of your arms over his torso. He lets out a heavy breath, eyes cast to the ceiling. "You aren't a bad person for having those thoughts. They don't define who you are, or where you're going. The fact that you're telling me this says a lot, that you've been holding this in for God knows how long."

"I'm just- it's so exhausting to keep living." You mumble, wiping at your runny nose. You press yourself further into Chan's side, feeling his arms tighten around you with every shift you make. His gaze falls to you when you speak, taking in every word with sharp ears. "I've had those thoughts, myself, y'know." His voice is thick with unspoken secrets, a heavy breath hitting the crown of your head - shallow and sharp. You lay with your head against his chest, silent as he confesses to his own feelings of hopelessness.

You've never seen Chan lose the façade of the stable best friend. Even through the stresses of high school, he was the rock, a bastion of strength and resilience. But Chan knows. He knows what those thoughts are like, the struggle of falling asleep while trying to fend off cackling demons from the foot of the bed. The pain of trying so hard to fit the mold that society has crafted, that every single individual is expected to fit to a T.

Perhaps that's why he knows how to soothe you, how to take care of you and hold back his own tears. Even if he doesn't know how frayed and weathered your thread on this life is.

"I never told you about them. Never told anyone, really. I put all my feelings into songwriting, even if I never released half of them." Chan's body relaxes beneath you as the weight of his secrets leaves him. A half-hearted sigh. A lazy hand traces the curve of your back in a calming gesture, the rhythm of his fingers almost hypnotizing.

"You always believed in my impossible dreams... encouraged me to pursue them like it was your calling in life. You made me happy through all of my downfalls." You pick your head up at his words, resting your chin against his breast. Two pairs of eyes lock on one another. There's a ghost of a smile quirking Chan's lips after a moment, brown eyes glowing like the embers of a fire.

"You're one of the good ones." He pauses, bringing a hand up to swipe at the stray hairs in your face, running his fingers through the locks like he always does. "You're so much that this world doesn't deserve, but everything that is needed. Just like those sunflowers that summer. Little seeds that were waiting for their chance to shine, and you lit them up like little beacons of hope."

Even though fresh tears are streaming down your face, Chan beams at the soft laugh that you release. It's genuine this time, unbroken and featherlight. Childlike. These tears aren't ones of hopelessness and sleepless nights, but of gratitude and love for the person embracing you. The way Chan speaks to you, the way he's willing to offer up his strength and his heart without expecting anything of you in return is exactly what you need. In a world filled with harsh realities and high expectations and constant beat downs, he is the personification of empathy. His voice calms your anxious mind, even if his words don't completely wipe out the heavy storm. He tames it, eases the hurricane force winds and manifests a steady rain that could lull you to sleep.

"I'm not going to let you drown, alright. I know things seem rough right now, but you've accomplished so much and you're gonna do so much more." Chan's eyes burn into yours, unwavering in his conviction. You feel the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he wipes more tears away, the heat and passion in his expression shifting to tenderness as he speaks. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be alone in this."

His words are the affirmations you've told yourself for months, fighting your negative thoughts with positivity that only worked for so long. But the words held an air of certainty coming from Chan. There's value in them. It's the first time in a long time that hearing someone - even yourself - telling you that it's going to be okay brings you some semblance of peace, of safety. Knowing that things can get better given a little time. Sunflowers only bloom after some tender loving care; you learned that back when you were kids. 

God damn, were you determined back then...

Every fiber of Chan's body exudes safety as he run his hands through your hair, your tears faltering with every delicate touch as you shed the weight of inner phantoms that you've repressed for forever. Your eyes close at the gesture, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath your palm.

"You take care of me, I take care of you. Like it's always been."

You pick up on the strain in his tone, eyes wide when you open them again. Tears threaten to spill over Chan's lower lashes, unable to hold back those emotions any longer. Your fingers are still trembling lightly when you reach up and wipe them away, mirroring the actions he's been calming you with all night. You feel the arm around your torso squeeze you once, almost a silent thank you for that comfort, even in the state you're currently in.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Not quite," You mutter, sniffling as you keep your eyes on him. "but I'm better than I was an hour ago. All thanks to you."

Chan smiles; one of those smiles that isn't much, but somehow it still reaches his eyes.

"Good, that's good." He pulls you further up, pressing his fingers into your spine. "Now how about I order us some take out and you and I sit and watch a movie? Maybe that new one that you said looks laughably terrible? Or a comfort movie? Your choice."

"Can we lay here for ten more minutes?" You ask. You've already dropped your head against his chest, eyes closed as you listen to his heart thump against sturdy muscle.

"Ten more minutes. Twenty, if you need. I'm not going anywhere." Chan's reply is soft and slow as he continues to hold you close, your tears drying as seconds turn to minutes. You melt into his warmth, pressing further against his neck. Chan mirrors you, a silent reassurance that he's here; now and always.

In Chan's arms you're both so small, so powerless as you confront the demons that have long haunted you. There's no rushing here. Healing isn't a process that can be rushed. He doesn't need you to say a word or do anything. There's nothing more to say, no. He'll just hold you with everything he has. You relax against him, breaths evening out as you feel exhaustion take over.

As your eyes close, you feel the past few months recede.

The future seems less daunting. Just as the pieces shatter, you are finally ready to begin picking them up and piece them back together. It'll get ugly; viscous and foreboding. But Chan is willing to help you with such a demanding process.

That's everything that keeps you going.

It's what keeps you alive.

If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[lunarsilkscreen]

A Programming Hook

Object-Oriented Programming's strength is Modularity; and just about everything coded today follows the OOP design. Except Python and JavaScript--sometimes.

So I've coined a term "Hook"; not to be confused with a fishing-line-hook, or the literary tool where you write the most interesting part of your whole story into the first sentence.

A [Hook] in this regard is a [Space for Something]{to go} like a nook or a closet. You don't know *what* might go into that nook or closet; you just know there are *things* with which are properly displayed or stored in a Nook or in a Closet.

And this is the same concept.

There's a *whole* lot of features that we'd might *wish* to add to a coding project, yet time and funding constraints, oftentimes, makes it hard to include every feature one might want.

In this vein; we add space for the features we might want to add *after* we finish all the important bits.

This is very important in [Software Engineering], because there will be a time in a project where you make it to an important feature that you cannot implement *without* having had re-written the *whole* thing.

And so, you want options available when that inevitably comes to pass.

Now. I developed this whole making [Training Simulations] in the [Air Force] and when I tell you; one day somebody asked me to do something that may have added several weeks to the development time.

They asked "How long will this take to [fix]?" To which I responded; "I'm not sure. I think I remember adding some hooks that would make this easy, and it could be done tonight. But as it wasn't a requirement *at the time* this may take 2-4 weeks to implement if I have to rework it from scratch."

To which, they were very upset with my best time "4 hours, or the end of shift, whichever comes first" or "several weeks, because that would put us behind schedule."

"I'll get back to you at the end of day Chief!"

Non-developers, Maintenance Professionals like myself *actually* who're used to every little thing being documented and not *created on the fly* were rather upset with those timelines.

And I had already been reprimanded several times based on my timeline predictions.

Which uh. Were accurate. They just weren't particularly accurate *for me* whom'st {is/was} a very well educated developer... In a sea of maintainers who have not studied the code as I have done.

My timelines were usually off at this stage *because* I was getting my understanding of how the coders (who were also rather green) and the (maintainers become coders) would be able to understand the timelines.

I have to make clear; I was, in-fact, doing *my* job to the best of my ability, and even better than *your{my supervisor's}* ability despite them being very concerned about my time estimates being [too long].

Communication isn't bad on my side... Even when I appear to be bad at communicating.

One of these days I will not be so defensive! Yet the Anti-Trans sentiment remains, so will the SALT!

Anyway; these particular [Hooks] were contextual triggers. Things that would/should be called at certain times during certain steps in the simulation.

Custom CallBack functions mostly.

And these particular callbacks were rather complex for a simple one-function call event.

Luckily for my OCD brain; I had stopped to asked the question about this exact feature they wanted to add *now* that they had been worried about adding earlier, until the customer made it a [Need to have].

I had asked the question, at that time; "What happens if *this* particular feature *becomes* a Necessary addition."

Because my [awesome predictive abilities] were spot on about what they need that particular simulation to accomplish.

Luckily I had been stumbling through various frameworks and implementations of the Squadrons Honorable Historical Developments. (Part of the job was updating and modernizing old Adobe Flash 2.0 projects) And had stumbled across a few implementations of these features *both* before it was necessary *and* after it seems to have taken a week to tack on at the end.

And that's when I started adding the concept of "Hooks" to my personal development checklist. Everytime you ask yourself; "How might this feature be used outside this implementation" or "What happens if I need to add something *somewhere* that might break Modularity" is an opportunity to add in hooks.

"Can I go back, and reuse this feature to make my job easier in the future?"

Or you know; Object-Oriented Design (And Modularity) in a nutshell.

[fullstackonion]

Still Looks A Lot Like Love

Evening Musings June 12, 2025 · 5:57 PM

It’s almost 6 in the evening and I meant to post this sometime around midday—but as it always goes, things came up. Good things, though. And before this day ends, I just wanted to put this one out there. Maybe one more will follow before I go to bed tonight.

Today was a good day. A day well spent. Thank God for legal holidays and long weekends. Truly, sometimes we forget how vital it is to enjoy the little things in life—the ones that bring peace without asking for anything in return.

It’s nice to sit in front of a computer and not have to write in code. Not PHP, not JavaScript, not HTML, not even Python. To not worry whether the syntax will work, whether the logic is sound, or if something’s breaking where it shouldn’t. It’s just nice... not to think about work.

Just to type—whatever the brain needs to let go of.

Funny how, even though I haven’t done this in years, it’s like I never left. Fandom has always kept me afloat. But this—this is the one where I had to learn to come back to myself. To write just because the words sound good together. Because a photo or a drawing makes something stir in the chest and the only way to soothe it is to shape it into story.

It’s freeing. To not think: How do I fix this program? To not wonder: Why isn’t this running? To not hear the nagging: It’s not working the way it should.

No. Today, I got a breather.

Usually, that breather is on my Instagram—through photographs and short captions, little visual stories that people can read however they like. But this is something else entirely. And I’m thankful for it too.

Anyway—I'm rambling.

I created this post because I felt like the morning arc needed a companion. And knowing me, this one will have a companion too. Sometimes I really hate how my brain works in pieces. It never settles. It never says, “That’s enough.” It always asks, “And then what?”

Still, here we are.

I found something really cute. And since this little corner of the internet is my diary now, I’m posting it here. To those of you reading—thank you. If you find anything here worth taking, please take it. I don’t mind at all.

So anyway— Here it goes. :) Also—just a note: the images I’ve posted along with this entry are how I imagine Aldo would look in the moment. Thoughtful. Quiet. On the brink of something soft and world-changing. They helped the story form in my head. Somewhere Quieter

The door clicked shut behind him.

Aldo stood in the soft dark of his apartment, the hush of evening still clinging to his coat. He didn’t move for a long moment. Just breathed—slow, careful—as though any sudden motion might undo the fragile echo of what had just happened.

He touched his lips. Twice.

The elevator had already descended. Goffredo was gone. But the feeling lingered, like warmth left in a chair just vacated, or the scent of coffee long after the cup had been emptied.

He took off his coat and laid it gently over the back of the chair. Sat. Let the silence swell around him.

And then—almost involuntarily—he began to wonder.

How had it begun?

Not the kiss. Not even the dinner. No, it began somewhere earlier, quieter. Less pronounced. The sort of moment you don’t notice until it’s already changed something.

Aldo remembered the café.

Just a few days after the conclave. Rome still bristled with whispers and fresh judgments. The marble corridors hadn’t yet settled. Everyone was watching everyone—still guessing who had hoped for what.

He’d gone to a small café tucked beside a bookseller, a place with almond pastries and poor lighting and exactly the kind of solitude he needed. He was reading something—not for work, for once. A biography. He’d made it halfway through his espresso when the seat across from him scraped back.

Goffredo.

Wearing an ivory suit, of all things. Baby-blue shirt, slightly wrinkled at the sleeves. No cassock. Just a man. A man carrying a small box of persicata—the kind of peach-sugar sweet no one ever admits to liking but everyone secretly does.

“I remembered you liked these,” Goffredo said, setting the box down between them.

“I didn’t know I’d said that.”

“You didn’t.”

A pause.

“You always take the ones from the snack table,” Goffredo added. “Even when they’re too sweet.”

Aldo had blinked at him, unsure whether to be annoyed or oddly touched.

Goffredo ordered a macchiato. Stayed.

No speeches. No posturing. No apologies, either—just... presence. Uncloaked. Quiet.

“After all that,” Aldo had said at last, gesturing vaguely, “I thought we might go back to pretending the other didn’t exist.”

Goffredo had tilted his head. “We could. But I think I’ve grown tired of pretending.”

They hadn’t become friends overnight. They didn’t become anything, really. But after that afternoon, they kept running into each other. At meetings. In the corridors. On accident, then on purpose.

Small things changed. Goffredo stopped cutting into Aldo’s points during debates. Aldo started leaving memos with room for replies. One afternoon, he caught Goffredo holding the door for him a little too long. Another time, Goffredo found an annotated article left on his desk—with Aldo’s handwriting in the margins.

Eventually, they shared coffee. Then lunches. Sometimes walks.

The friendship, when it came, arrived quietly.

Aldo remembered one late afternoon in the library—just the two of them and the distant tapping of a rainstorm against the stained-glass windows. Goffredo had asked, not unkindly, “When did you stop hating me?”

Aldo had shrugged. “I don’t know. When did you stop being insufferable?”

They’d both smiled. It had been easy, for once.

And then, one morning, over breakfast in the refectory, Aldo told Thomas, Raymond, and Giulio—offhandedly, almost as an afterthought—that he’d been “spending time” with Goffredo.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Spending time as in... diplomacy?”

Raymond had grinned behind his coffee. Giulio only hummed knowingly and stabbed a boiled egg.

“It’s not like that,” Aldo insisted.

“It’s never like that,” Giulio replied. “Until it is.”

Aldo had laughed them off. But he remembered how warm his face felt.

And now, tonight—after the kiss—he wondered if they had all known before he did.

The warmth had never left.

Aldo leaned back in his chair now, in his quiet apartment, letting the memories fade into stillness again. On the table in front of him sat a small, unopened box of persicata. He didn’t know when Goffredo had left it there.

He smiled.

And for the first time in years, Aldo felt like he was at the beginning of something—not grand, not inevitable, but real.

Something he could choose.

And maybe, just maybe, something that had already chosen him.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3903

mom's doctor appointment this morning went well. it was quick. doc said it's just a matter of time before her hand is fully healed.

stopped with mom at dunks for bagels and then michael's for things for easter (like bags), and then went to grill 603 for lunch. we stopped at ocean state job lot after to pick up flowers.

between michael's and grill 603, mom and i went to get a few things for easter at nelson's chocolates.

yknow, the place that kat's mom nancy owned before she died last year.

it was the first time i'd been in there since she passed.

and it was awful.

not only was it missing nancy and her whimsy, it was missing most of the products that i'd grown to love from them, and it was missing all of the vibes of home and warmth and love. it just. it wasn't there. the customer service wasn't as good. the ice cream wasn't there anymore. there weren't even any nonpareils?? but it was the spirit that broke me the most.

to be honest, what an awful experience it was. we went in hopes of finding good things for easter baskets, and we left feeling nancy's absence acutely.

i'm sad.

did you know i didn't even know about her funeral? i knew she'd passed, but i wasn't told anything about her funeral. i wasn't there to remember her, or to support my friends in their loss. of all the events i wish i'd been at, that's one of them. one of the biggest ones, actually.

my uncle's funeral. bekah's wedding.

things i can't go to now because they can only happen once.

things i can't do anything for because the time has passed and it feels like it's too little too late.

because i can't go back in time and be there.

and that i think may be the cruelest trick time plays on us. by pointing out our greatest regrets and replaying them as time goes on.

sigh.

anyway.

we picked out plants for the porch and we came home and made the centerpiece for easter and then i left to see nancy and the kids.

i helped nancy with a project she was working on for her composition class, and while we were sitting there, her youngest daughter climbed up on the chair with me as i was hunched over. the poor thing fell asleep.

she stayed there for a while and she was abruptly woken up and told gently to go sit on the sofa for a nap, but she was silently crying because all she wanted was to sit with me. so i opened my arms for her and she came back and sat with me and fell asleep again while i kept working. and i just held her for, like, an hour. until i had to get up and leave for class.

she's just so sweet. i just adore her.

i love all of nancy's kids, and i know i'm not supposed to have favorites. but i think gracie is my favorite. i'm definitely HER favorite.

class was alright. caleb and i sat down with some code and they helped me and kind of walked me through building the next piece because i am not a programmer by any means, so having their help was more like them guiding me to write some things. there are a few details i understand in python, but the things we talked about today were not things i understand. i think i just need someone to show me how to do it and then walk me through using it and then asking me procedural questions of how to get through something and then giving open-ended questions for how to use the kind of code. that would help me.

either way.

class was over a little after 8 after working for more than an hour and then having our brains fried. because i don't know very much and what i do know is rudimentary at best. i'm willing to build anything, but i have no clue where to start.

it's fine. i don't actively need it.

(right now.)

after class i went to taco bell and then the gas station, but while i was at taco bell, i asked for sauce. i asked for fire sauce. i do not eat fire sauce. i use hot sauce. i am a coward. so instead of harming my taste buds in lieu of using my normal sauce, i went back to the drive through, admitted i was a coward, and asked for sauce that wasn't fire sauce. i was able to procure the hot sauce and use it.

stopped for gas, listened to fall out boy on the way home. helped momma with some more puzzle before getting everything turned off and heading up to bed.

but tim's all good. i'm exhausted. mom has another appointment in the morning.

i would like joel cuddles. and i would like leo cuddles. i'm glad we're talking again, in general, but also because i still do love the doofus. definitely have a huge soft spot for him.

glad i've got my boys. wish leo would be my boy for good, too. but that's not fair to him.

sigh.

[fractiflos]

Answers to the Asks

There was only one like, so I should only answer the first one... But I really did want to answer some of the others, so below the cut will be the other ones I wanted to get to. And here's my answer to 19.

I wanted my username to have something to do with cats, but before I made my Ao3 account, I had to make an account on something else (forgot what) and spent way too much time trying to come up with something that wasn't already taken. So, I went with an old pen name I came up with and never got to use because I figured it wouldn't be taken. Jane, after Jane Eyre, one of my favorite books. Alice after Alice in Wonderland. And Rosewood, after my cat Rose. (I was right, it wasn't taken)

2. I do try to use paper, but I lose pens and notebooks really easily. Also, I tend to grip pencils really hard for some reason, so my hand gets sore fast. I generally keep all my writing notes and stuff on my laptop, because it's a lot harder for my brain to lose something so expensive.

6. I kind of plan beforehand. After I come up with the general idea, I think of an ending to work towards. Then I try to come up with some stuff in the middle. But it's not super detailed so a lot of the finer stuff is up to "go with the flow".

12. I love comments because it's always nice to hear (read) that someone liked what you wrote. I sometimes go through periods of no energy but I do try to reply to each comment. But it weirdly stresses me out when the comment number is higher than the kudos number, so sometimes I delete my replies. Also, when I was young, I went through a superstitious phase. I'm over it now, but to this day seeing the number thirteen gives me a stabbing pain in the eyes (I can handle seeing it written but not the number itself) so I do appreciate that nothing is at that number.

10 + 3 - It depends. If it's a gift or a prize, I can usually get it done in about two weeks cuz then I'm really motivated. I'm currently on a "One WIP will get weekly updates and then move on to the next" schedule. One-shots, should take about 1 - 2 weeks if I'm motivated. If not... Well, Primary Colors was sitting in my drafts for about one and half years for one example.

14. Ghastly Advice. I looked it up once and the word count is long enough for it to qualify as a novel lol.

15. Current WIP name: Killer Rabbit. It may change when I publish this one-shot. I haven't seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail but I was shown the killer rabbit clip and it made me think of AFO. There should be more Bunny for One. So, I'm working on this one-shot where he turns into a rabbit (it was also a prompt I once made but I really wanted to write it, so I'm working on it)

16. Yes! AUs are always really fun because I can either make stuff up completely (like in Swan Sight) or have fun putting The Characters in a different media universe (like in The Other Father).

18. I can't stand silence. I usually put on whatever music I'm listening to (I cycle through different types) which at the moment happens to be anime openings. My favorite is Idol by Yaosobi. Though sometimes I just turn on my fan and use that as background noise.

20. I like a lot of genres. I guess I should say romance because of all the KudoIchi fics I write, but I like others too. Crack/any kind of comedy is fun because it's nice to know I made people laugh. I really like fantasy, but I don't get to write enough stories with it. Maybe I should write more fantasy one-shots. Horror is also fun to write. I'm a scaredy-cat when I read it, but it doesn't bother me as much when I write it.

21. I die like all the One For All users when AFO caught up to them.

22. Me being ace and not liking sex scenes all that much, I'll have to go with Plot with some porn. I actually haven't written a sex scene. Maybe I should try (I know one WIP where it would fit) but it would probably be really bad.

23. No matter what, I think this crown will always belong to Sensei | All For One/Sensei | All For One.

24. I can't think of a singular comment because I reread a lot of my comments when I'm feeling down and need motivation. I guess it would have to be the long ones though, because there's more to motivate me!

25. Some days, writing is the only reason I have for living. So, if I'm going to keep writing and living, then I want to improve.

That's everything. If there's any other questions you have though, feel free to ask. My inbox is always open!

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I'll take a break to focus on the actual book I'm writing, but don't worry, I promise the final book will be the best one of all. See you in August! -Danny Words: 2,203 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Book Listen to: 'I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For' -by U2

LXIII: Which Boss Do I Have to Fight to Get Some Validation Around Here?

She knows all the people in this room, but the way she thinks about them, and how they interact with her now that she's physically different, is kind of off.

"We talked to Apollo," Ara starts explaining. "He said Gaia reawakened the Python, keeping the Oracle of Delphi prisoner—that's why Rachel can't see anything now."

Ella the harpy, Tyson, and Rachel will leave with the Romans, they'll try to rewrite the Sibylline books, which is why Ara called for a meeting.

"But Gaia is permanently asleep now," Will reasons. "That means Dad can kill the Python now!"

Ara grimaces. "But your father angered Zeus. We might not see him a while, or worse—"

"Wait, if we stop getting prophecies, that's completely alright," Nyssa replies. She's the counselor for Cabin Nine because Jake refused to step back in. "We lost two great inventors already, and it's not like Hephaestus goes out of his way to have tons of kids, our numbers are thinning—"

"I'm perfectly aware of it, Nyssa, thank you." Ara silences the girl. "But we should be worried about Apollo."

"Why? No more prophecies means peace!" Percy argues.

Ara gives him a look. "No more prophecies means we'll face our future problems blindly, and trust me, there will be problems. We've been stripped of our advantage, and that's not all that worries me."

"What is?" Piper asks reluctantly.

"Zeus will punish Apollo for his delulus of greatness, and he has a special way of humiliating Apollo... I'm pretty sure he'll use it again."

Will's face loses color. "That's terrible news! We could be left powerless! Our whole cabin!"

"I'm aware of that too," Ara sighs. "If this doesn't end well, you might lose them forever..."

"Hold on, time out," Percy intervenes. "I'm lost."

Annabeth explains. "Zeus once punished Apollo by stripping him of his godly status. He turned into a mortal, and was forced to do a series of trials until Zeus considered he'd humbled him enough."

Jason looks concerned. "What could've happened if he'd failed those trials?"

"He would've died, most likely," Ara says. "None of his descendants would've kept their powers, maybe. Some traits at best, whatever they could've learned in training, but stuff like—"

"Magic healing, music powers, perfect aim, the light..." Will shudders. "All gone."

"Your job is important," Ara turns to Rachel and Ella. "The books have information concerning what's next, maybe it'll tell us if we need to prepare in case Apollo's absence causes another conflict in Olympus. We mustn't get too comfortable in our peace."

She scans the room and sees the campers' good mood dying before her eyes. Ara's expression turns guilty, but she keeps going.

"Keep your eyes open. Apollo might reach out to any of us, he could show up at camp and have no memory of who he is—Gods, he might not even look like himself at all! But balance is needed whether we like it or not, if you find him, bring him to me."

No one is happy with her lecture, but Ara ends the meeting and sends the group of Romans away. Nico approaches her and nudges her arm. "You didn't need us after all. You kept them under control the whole time."

She smiles a little. "I thought they would fight me more on it."

"You're too scary now, but don't worry," Jason grins. "You'll get used to being almighty."

Almighty raises her myth. 

What if that line was about her as much as it was about the sword? She's powerful nowadays, but hardly a myth. She would need to become history for that, and her death doesn't feel any closer.

"Ara?"

"Hmm?" She gives a start.

"I said, can you do me a favor now?" Nico asks, his eyes fixed on the Big House's entrance. "Stay near."

Ara is intrigued, she follows him out and sees what he'd been staring at from inside. "Hey, guys," Percy smiles at them. "Annabeth just told me some good news!"

"We're going to spend our senior year together," Annabeth beams, "here in New York. And after graduation—"

"College in New Rome!" Percy punches the air. "Four years with no monsters to fight, no battles, no stupid prophecies. Just me and Annabeth, getting our degrees, hanging out at cafés, enjoying California—"

"And after that..." Annabeth smiles sweetly at the boy. "Well, Reyna and Frank said we could live in New Rome as long as we like."

"That's great," Nico says, sounding genuine. "I'm staying too, here at Camp Half-Blood."

"What?" Ara looks at him with shock.

"Awesome!" Percy exclaims.

"So," Nico clears his throat, "since we're going to be spending at least a year seeing each other at camp, I think I should clear the air."

Percy hesitates. "What do you mean?"

"For a long time, I had a crush on you." Nico shrugs. "I just wanted you to know."

Percy looks at the boy blankly. "You—"

"Yeah. You're a great person. But I'm over that," he smiles a bit. "I'm happy for you guys."

"You... so you mean—"

"Right."

"Wait," Percy frowns. "So you mean—"

"Right. But it's cool. We're cool. I mean, I see now... you're cute, but you're not my type."

Ara snorts, not believing her ears.

"I'm not your type..." Percy blinks. "Wait. So—"

"This is gonna take a while," Ara guides Nico away with amusement.

The boy snickers. "See you around, Percy. Annabeth."

If that isn't surreal enough, Annabeth and Nico high-five, and then the boy openly smiles at Ara and pats her shoulder. Even if it's a closed smile, it's enough to bewild her. Nico makes his way down the porch steps and shouts at someone to wait for him. Will Solace, out of all people. Almost immediately, both boys glow in the same bright yellow light.

"Holy shit," Ara breathes.

"Huh," Lily says, coming out of nowhere. "Yeah, I can see it."

Ara jumps. "Gods, Lily, stop doing that!" She lowers her voice with confusion. "Did you see that, though?"

"What?" Annabeth grins at the girls. "Don't tell me you couldn't tell! I'm sure you were the first to find out!"

Ara looks at her smiling. "Yeah, what an idiot, right? But no, I meant..." She hesitates, it's still not her place to tell others what she just saw. "Nevermind. You know where Reyna is?"

"Talking to Piper by the lake," Lily responds. "Need me to come along?"

"Nah, it's fine, I gotta feed Pollo anyway," Ara shows her a lighthearted smile before walking away. "Go waste time with your elf."

"Don't call him that!"

"Don't forget Mom picks us up in an hour!" Percy shouts, coming out of his dazzled state.

"There you are!" Ara finds Reyna and Piper. "Ready to go?"

"Yes. Again, thank you for letting us stretch our stay."

"You're always welcome here," Piper says. "If you need to take a break, get away... you've got Frank now—he could assume more responsibility for a while. It might do you good to make some time for yourself, when nobody is going to be looking at you as praetor."

"Would I be expected to sing that odd song about how Grandma puts on her armor?"

"Not unless you really want to," Piper grins. "But we might have to ban you from capture the flag. I have a feeling you could go against the entire camp solo and still beat us."

"I'll consider the offer. Thank you." Reyna pauses. "I wonder... You two are children of Venus. I mean Aphrodite. Perhaps—perhaps you could explain something your mother said."

Piper and Ara share a look, and the younger girl crosses her arms. "Go ahead."

"Once in Charleston, Venus told me something. She said: You will not find love where you wish or where you hope. No demigod shall heal your heart. I—I have struggled with that for..."

The answer comes easily to Ara. "Don't have to be scared. Love is a vast concept and its fulfillment comes in many forms, rarely is it ever another human. Before Leo, love would come to me by helping people and not dating. It really is in the most random places."

"You are an incredible person," Piper adds. "And you have friends, sometimes that's even better than a partner."

"I can attest to that," Ara nods, then adds playfully. "But if you ever feel like giving dating a try, I'm available until my boyfriend comes back from the dead."

Reyna stares at her. "I can't tell if you're being serious."

"This is a special offer with a deadline," Ara retorts half-joking. "I find you frustratingly attractive."

Reyna laughs and Ara feels like she just accomplished a great deed. She perks up at the sound but then something hits her across the face. The girl groans and looks around in confusion. "What the..."

Ara looks down and it takes her a moment to understand what she's seeing. She picks up the item and Piper gasps. "Is that—?"

"Oh my gods," Ara's hands are shaking. "Oh, gods! What do I do?"

"What is that?" Reyna asks.

"That's Leo's!" Piper says. "It fell from the sky!"

Ara feels like maybe she should sit down before she opens it, but her impatience gets the best of her and she opens the scroll with trembling, clumsy fingers.

"Hey, guys!" Leo's tiny projection comes out of the scroll. Ara makes a bizarre noise with her throat and holds tighter onto it, unable to look away. Reyna and Piper get closer."Sorry to leave you like that. Bad news: I died. Good news: I got better! I had to help my bud Cal. We're taking Festus to—" 

The image glitches and Ara shakes the scroll impatiently. 

"Back as soon as—" 

More glitching and static.

"Cook tacos when—" 

More static. 

"¡Vaya con queso! Love ya!"

The scroll turns off and Ara gets angry. "That's it?!"

"Leo's alive!" Piper hugs her. "It worked!"

"Smart," Reyna hums approvingly. "Seems like our date will never come to be, Strategus."

Ara twists the scroll in her hands. "An entire freaking week where we both almost died and all he has to say is Vaya con queso?" She's fuming. "Well, good for his bud Cal! I hope they bring me a shirt from whatever stupid countries they visit on their super fun holiday away from everyone else!"

Piper steps back. "I should get Lily."

"I should leave," Reyna says promptly.

The girls hurry away while also spreading the news about Leo. Soon enough, Ara is surrounded by an eager crowd that wants to hear the message. Ara plays it back, glaring at the projection. 

Lily sees her expression and nudges Nico, both taking her away from the congratulating crowd that calls her boyfriend cool and intelligent before she can kill them.

Steam is practically coming out of Ara's ears. She's forgotten all about her duties, her hurt ego stops her from thinking clearly while she paces around her room.

"Look at the bright side, Queen B, he'll be back soon and you won't mope for months like with Percy!"

"Hey! It wasn't my fault!"

"No one's saying that," Annabeth replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Ara keeps throwing her tantrum. "This is the same boy that used to send me weekly scrolls to my apartment to tell me I looked pretty in a dream he had—and now I get nothing!"

"For all we know that 'Love ya!' in the end might've been just for you," Nico pokes fun at her.

"I'm gonna strangle you," Ara warns him.

"Dude, why are you angry? He broke the curse!" Lily insists. She had to catch up quickly with Annabeth's help to understand the full context of what was happening.

"I'm happy but I'm angry that he kicked me out of the ship like I was getting on the way, and now he's taking his sweet time to talk to me!" Ara glares at the pinboard in front of her, packed with pictures of the boy. "Ugh, look at this! Oh, you should've seen the way I cried for him���Ugh, I hate him!"

The group shares a roguish look. They know Ara can't handle big emotions, especially when it comes to Leo, so right now she's fighting to regulate herself. But if Leo doesn't get there fast, Ara's high will suffocate her until it knocks her down and leaves her unable to get out of bed.

"Birdy," Percy approaches and places a hand on her shoulder. "Leo's probably saving his romantic speech for when he sees you in person. He knows you love it when he makes a show out of it."

"The scroll was a perfect opportunity to show off," Ara argues with a pout, but she's calming down.

"Yeah, but he had no way of knowing you would be the one to get it and have it slap you across the face," Nico replies. "Besides, you know he worships the ground you walk on—What's the big deal?"

Ara takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "The big deal is that the curse is broken," Her fingers skim the picture of him in the bunker's platform, smiling big while showing a thumbs up to the camera. "And he's traveling with a goddess whose sole purpose is to tempt men so they stay with her..."

"Hey, Calypso isn't like that," Percy tries to defend the girl's honor, but Annabeth pulls him back and shakes her head, now is not the time to try and reason with a frightened Ara.

"You're saying you don't trust Leo?" Lily questions with disbelief.

"I'm saying I have no way to contact him, and if something happens mid-journey, or Apollo shows up and I'm not here..." Ara scowls at the drawing of the Argo II in the middle of her pinboard. "Without the oracles here to guide us, anything can happen."

Next Book –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[augerer]

@girderednerve replied to your post coming out on tumblr as someone whose taught "AI bootcamp" courses to middle school students AMA:

did they like it? what kinds of durable skills did you want them to walk away with? do you feel bullish on "AI"?

It was an extracurricular thing so the students were quite self-selecting and all were already interested in the topic or in doing well in the class. Probably what most interested me about the demographic of students taking the courses (they were online) was the number who were international students outside of the imperial core probably eventually looking to go abroad for college, like watching/participating in the cogs of brain drain.

I'm sure my perspective is influenced because my background is in statistics and not computer science. But I hope that they walked away with a greater understanding and familiarity with data and basic statistical concepts. Things like sample bias, types of data (categorical/quantitative/qualitative), correlation (and correlation not being causation), ways to plot and examine data. Lots of students weren't familiar before we started the course with like, what a csv file is/tabular data in general. I also tried to really emphasize that data doesn't appear in a vacuum and might not represent an "absolute truth" about the world and there are many many ways that data can become biased especially when its on topics where people's existing demographic biases are already influencing reality.

Maybe a bit tangential but there was a part of the course material that was teaching logistic regression using the example of lead pipes in flint, like, can you believe the water in this town was undrinkable until it got Fixed using the power of AI to Predict Where The Lead Pipes Would Be? it was definitely a trip to ask my students if they'd heard of the flint water crisis and none of them had. also obviously it was a trip for the course material to present the flint water crisis as something that got "fixed by AI". added in extra information for my students like, by the way this is actually still happening and was a major protest event especially due to the socioeconomic and racial demographics of flint.

Aside from that, python is a really useful general programming language so if any of the students go on to do any more CS stuff which is probably a decent chunk of them I'd hope that their coding problemsolving skills and familiarity with it would be improved.

do i feel bullish on "AI"? broad question. . . once again remember my disclaimer bias statement on how i have a stats degree but i definitely came away from after teaching classes on it feeling that a lot of machine learning is like if you repackaged statistics and replaced the theoretical/scientific aspects where you confirm that a certain model is appropriate for the data and test to see if it meets your assumptions with computational power via mass guessing and seeing if your mass guessing was accurate or not lol. as i mentioned in my tags i also really don't think things like linear regression which were getting taught as "AI" should be considered "ML" or "AI" anyways, but the larger issue there is that "AI" is a buzzy catchword that can really mean anything. i definitely think relatedly that there will be a bit of an AI bubble in that people are randomly applying AI to tasks that have no business getting done that way and they will eventually reap the pointlessness of these projects.

besides that though, i'm pretty frustrated with a lot of AI hysteria which assumes that anything that is labeled as "AI" must be evil/useless/bad and also which lacks any actual labor-based understanding of the evils of capitalism. . . like AI (as badly formed as I feel the term is) isn't just people writing chatGPT essays or whatever, it's also used for i.e. lots of cutting edge medical research. if insanely we are going to include "linear regression" as an AI thing that's probably half of social science research too. i occasionally use copilot or an LLM for my work which is in public health data affiliated with a university. last week i got driven batty by a post that was like conspiratorially speculating "spotify must have used AI for wrapped this year and thats why its so bad and also why it took a second longer to load, that was the ai generating everything behind the scenes." im saying this as someone who doesnt use spotify, 1) the ship on spotify using algorithms sailed like a decade ago, how do you think your weekly mixes are made? 2) like truly what is the alternative did you think that previously a guy from minnesota was doing your spotify wrapped for you ahead of time by hand like a fucking christmas elf and loading it personally into your account the night before so it would be ready for you? of course it did turned out that spotify had major layoffs so i think the culprit here is really understaffing.

like not to say that AI like can't have a deleterious effect on workers, like i literally know people who were fired through the logic that AI could be used to obviate their jobs. which usually turned out not to be true, but hasn't the goal of stretching more productivity from a single worker whether its effective or not been a central axiom of the capitalist project this whole time? i just don't think that this is spiritually different from retail ceos discovering that they could chronically understaff all of their stores.

[panelshowsource]

saved a few anons asking personal questions not all related to panel shows, spamming answers below the cut :)

she/her!

interesting question! first, i think it's very special that you had the opportunity to study at an international university and i am glad to hear you had so many amazing experiences!

i also feel like i need to preface anything i say with... holidays are obviously different from living, and i hope people can trust that i wouldn't base an entire lifestyle decision off, like, being a fan of taskmaster lmao the state of politics, brexit, housing, prejudice, and more make it difficult to say i'd want to commit to life there — plus i really love new york city, where i do feel at home

that said, i would be open to living in the uk for a period of time, yes. i am certainly very motivated to visit a lot of places, particularly in england, and decided last year to start spending a month or two over there every year (this year i think i will be in york! maybe i can post a little about that if people care). the history and motivations behind that decision are really personal to me, but it feels...right. i am really looking forward to my time there this year and treasure being someone who works remotely and can make that happen

living permanently, it's hard to say, but speaking for my interests in history, architecture, art, cinema — it would be wonderful to explore those things more in person, yes!

i really think in the 6+ years of this blog this is the first i've ever been asked about music! which makes sense ofc it just took me by surprise!

hmmm i think this playlist most accurately expresses what i'm listening to a lot of the time + a lot a lot a lot of classical music, some dad rock, and a few balladeers like judy garland and rufus wainwright

i don't claim to be the world's biggest comedy buff or keep up the best with all of the comedy coming out of the uk and american industries — even though i do enjoy it so much! — but growing up i was very interested in comedy writing. in high school, i worked at a dvd store where people could trade in their old dvds for store credit to buy new ones, so we had a HUGE selection of not only new releases but older, sometimes nicher stuff that you typically wouldn't see at a suburban american blockbuster-like shop. i can't stress how formative this was! i would always go through the store and "beautify" the shelves (pulling all the spines up neatly, keeping everything alphabetised, etc) just to constantly look through what we had in stock, grab the old black bar criterion films before some movie buff snatched them up, touch all the special editions (physical releases were more than just steelbooks back then, like stuff like this). each of the employees had a little shelf in the back room where you could store dvds you wanted to buy when you eventually had the money, keeping them off the floor so no customer would see and buy them. i was always reserving 30+ dvds at a time and spent my whole paychecks at work hahaha

anyways, that's how i found a lot of the random british films i ended up loving — by people trading them in or me just running across them at the store: a cock and bull story, death at a funeral, this is england, gosford park, monty python, (particularly holy grail and life of brian), confetti (didn't love this one but it had a lot of actors i really liked in it so i remember watching it quite a few times) and more — but especially withnail and i and in the loop. i was fucking obsessed with in the loop, which i watched on a loop (zing!) and was ultimately how i worked my way backwards to the thick of it as well as shows like the office uk, alan partridge, green wing, fry and laurie, peep show, and more. (the thick of it and peep show were particularly everything to me!) i still have all of the dvds from the dvd store i worked at! lol

in terms of american comedy, i was obsessed with the state and then their groups' projects like wet hot american summer and reno 911 (michael showalter is a great example of a writer/director i don't think is one of the greats but follows his heart & vision, and i really respect that; my fave of his, which is genuinely so good, is hello my name is doris! underrated lil treasure). i also really loved it's always sunny, flight of the conchords, party down, arrested development, jackass and wild boys, and house md, and some of the wild characters on bravo lmao. we had this channel called logo that was my lifeline to queer content before i really had full-time access to the internet outside of a shared family computer, so i was always watching reruns of jeffrey & cole casserole, the big gay sketch show, plus the l word and queer as folk, and they also did syndication of reno 911 (but i already had all the box sets of that 😭). i was never heavy into the judd apatow/bro comedy that was so big in the 2000s, and even the 80s–90s american comedy heavily influenced by the talent at snl wasn't particularly engaging to me; of that, my favourites were probably throw momma from the train and a couple of romcoms

+ every panel show i could get my hands on! and i think because i was really engaged with sketch comedy i was also reading a lot of playwrights, especially alan bennett, harold pinter, and edward albee, who i had (and have!) huge collections of

and, yes, so many of these are at the foundation of my very favourite formats and styles of comedy: mockumentaries , black comedy or dark comedy, existential comedy, stories rooted in reality or plausibility / domestic dramedy. i used to be very engaged by sketch comedy and wanted to crack the science behind writing funny sketches, but i do think i've moved away from that format and filled that void with the improv nature of panel shows (it works for me the way i think the format of podcasts work for so many other people... i wonder if anyone will relate to that comparison)

comedy evolves so much by the decade and i appreciate a lot of the ways in which it has grown, so i don't think of it as a then vs now, which is better, whatever. and like you i can't help but revisit my nostalgic faves often!

i do think eventually he will! but rn he's lapping up that tv money hahaha my very fave is firing cheeseballs at a dog, but they're all genuinely great!

[felixcosm]

ask game: 🤎 for any fic

ask game part 2: 🙌🥘🛌

🤎 Brown: How did you decide to write (or why are you writing) a certain fanfic? (Asker, feel free to choose a specific story you’re curious about. You can also let the answerer choose the story.)

For most of the smut or short fics, I just sort of daydream the plot first before I write them, sometimes even narrating it all out in my head. This actually helps me from getting stuck and not knowing how to wrap it up.

For longer fics like the Flinchite!Matt fic or claim my body (Mike preg fic) it started with an idea talking to friends or in the woe.becord (wouldn't it be fucked up if Ty had a Matt iteration in the Compound - this idea floated around looong before Python existed) and then I wanted to tackle it and put my spin on it.

🙌What’s a line or paragraph of yours that you’re proud of?

I really liked the fight in the latest claim your body, between Mikey and Michael, how it escalated from everyone piling on Michael about how he's treating Mike to Mikey saying some really stupid shit and almost getting shot over it

I'll put it at the end of this ask if you wanna read it!

🥘What wip are you most excited about?

A while ago I started writing a fic about Sly, how he experienced the events of 117 in the safehouse after he transported away from Jam. I'm excited to show it!

🛌 What’s a trope you haven’t written, but want to?

A powerful, evil villain falling hard for one of the good guys (Ty doesn't count in this case) and having to grapple with what they want. In other words - Eagle/Jam. I AM planning to write for them though because I looove their dynamic so much.

what it means to claim my body ch.4

"Get off my fuckin' back about it." Michael snaps back. "You think this is easy for me, huh?"

"It ain't easy for us either, Michael."

"What do you think he went through?"

"He was in the Flinchite Compound-"

"Well I had to fucking shoot his replacement." There's the slamming of fists against the table as Michael shouts, loud enough to startle even Mike. "None of yall know- you don't-"

His voice cracks slightly at the last word, a pitiful sound that makes Mike's heart clench.

"And then you fucked off to god knows where while we had to clean up the corpse and look after Mike." Mikey snaps back. He's feeling braver because Edgar is here and he wouldn't let Michael punch him in the head like he apparently had during a chess boxing game a while back.

"Watch your fuckin' mouth, pilgrim."

"You're only the sheepdog as long as it's easy, huh?" Mikey's voice raises in that way where he's gearing up to make some grand statement and MW starts to say something, but he's cut off. "But when it gets tough you run off with your tail between your legs and leave us to do the dirty work."

"Mikey."

"I won't tolerate this kind of disrespect-"

"You couldn't even protect Mike. And then you spend the last few weeks fucking-"

What happens next Mike isn't so sure. He hears a chair fall back, several voices shouting, a few bangs and then the unmistakable sound of Michael cocking his gun.

[semperintrepida]

Process Talk: Final Edits

It may come as a surprise that I don't actually delight in making my readers wait several days between updates. As I've mentioned before, I use that time to work on "final edits" for upcoming chapters.

But what is a final edit? Allow me to show you my secrets.

At this point, the entire text of "The Breaking" has already had two to three edit passes. An "edit pass" involves refining the text at a certain level of detail. The first edit passes are at a high level, improving aspects like narrative structure, plot, and themes. Subsequent edit passes focus on improving characterization, dialogue, description, etc. at the scene, paragraph, and, eventually, the sentence level.

For the final edit, I'm primarily working on sentences, inspecting every word and punctuation mark. The first thing I do is throw the latest version of the book onto my tablet and give it a read:

This is where I make every word count. If I can swap five words ("shaped roughly like a crescent") for one-ish word ("crescent-shaped") I'm going to take it. A shrinking wordcount is a good thing!

Why do I read the book on my tablet? Because on my tablet, it looks closer a real published book (fancy!) and I like handwriting my notes. By now, I've looked at this story thousands of times in a text editor, so having the words appear in a different font and justified word spacing gives me a fresh perspective.

Once I've annotated the whole chapter, I return to my text editor and start fixing all the things I've marked, deleting or substituting words, reworking lines marked in brackets. I don't usually need to make any big changes, but it does happen on occasion, like when I decided to reorder some scenes in chapter 26.

When I'm done with my annotated changes, it's time to pull out the fine-tooth comb. The "comb" is a python script that searches for words and phrases in a text and highlights them:

Words like "before," "after," "even," and "always," are considered weak by traditional editing standards. (I've linked some good explanations why.) I'm also looking for filter phrases like "I hear," "I think," and "I know," as well as the words and phrases that are my writer tics: "crush," "a bit," "merely" to name a few. I like certain turns of phrase far too much!

Why did I write a fucking python script to highlight this stuff? Because my eyes literally skip over them when I read my own work. I couldn't find a tool that highlighted these words in a way I liked or trusted, so I had to write one myself. (If you'd like a copy of the code, hit me up via DM and I'll send you a link.)

Anyway, I go through the highlights and improve what can be improved (it's about 50/50 for each highlight—sometimes I leave things be!)

The last step is to read the chapter out loud, listening to the rhythm of the text as well as looking for typos.

And then I'm done!

This process has worked well for me, but I'm not sharing this because I think it's the only way to fly. Perhaps my writer friends will glean something of interest from it. At any rate, I hope this gives y'all an idea of why it takes me so damn long to write. 😅

[elizabethplaid]

Saturday's notes, part 2 - May 4, 2024

Part one here

Things got better as the day went on, after the alarm debacle in the morning. LL-K shared cookies with me from our fav local bakery, the one with the huge cookies.

When I went to pick up my take-out order, they didn't have it. Turns out, dad never hit the confirmation thing to finish making the order on their website. I almost asked to make the order right then, but I just wanted to go home. I texted my dad before leaving, then tried calling him, but his battery had died. So yeah, just go home; didn't want to wait another 20 minutes.

(Plus my Lego friend was starting her stream soon, and I wanted to chat with her as much as I could. Still ended up being like half an hour late, but she was still just getting started.)

THEN, on the drive back, I re-encountered the same lawn ornament I'd forgotten about from my drive out that morning. Remember the shadow-silhouette cut-outs that were popular in the late 90s? (Well, at least they were popular in NC, back then.) Some motherfucker had a human-sized one, like it was walking out from behind the power pole. Freaked me the fuck out, thinking someone was walking into the road.

Then I'm like, "Wait, those arms look familiar." IT WAS FUCKING SASQUATCH! And then it got me again, as I drove home! It wasn't even obscured by the pole on this side, and it got me even worse. Like, of all the shit that happened, that's the one that pisses me off the most. It's the only one that I can't let roll off my back.

Ok, so I got home, confirmed with dad that he forgot to finish the order. He was pretty apologetic about it. I put it on-par with how I fucked up the alarm that morning, so eh *shrug emoji*. He made some frozen stir fry meal for us instead. Certainly not the best, because it's a frozen thing and not made by responsible chefs, but it hit the spot. Plus dad did the work, as I ranted about Sasquatch. Very sweet of him.

Got to my friend's stream and chatted with her. Looked up some Lego stuff, shared links, etc. After finishing my food, I told her about my day. She encountered the same Sasquatch cut-out in her area, too. Big laugh with that.

She started her stream at 6pm, and she was on bag 10 of 22 by the time I bailed. (She intends to start at bag 12 for the next stream, I think.) It was after 1am, and I admitted that I'd been up since 5:30pm the previous evening. She's like, "Go to bed, girl." I texted her a pic of me in bed, with my Monty Python rabbit biting my face, to confirm I obeyed her order, haha. Still felt antsy (a "toddler tantrum" of resistance) and played on the phone for a bit. Finally put down the phone at 2am.

Woke sometime after 8am, to my daily "good morning" message. Text-chatted with phone friend, kind of explained how frustrated I was feeling. Both over- and under-stimulated, body-fatigued and brain-wired. Writing out my thoughts helped me vent the feelings, thankfully. Vocal-speech talking is tough on me, trying to find and form the words. But texting is easier, so I was able to form a lot of thoughts, and it got easier as I kept writing.

Texting with phone-friend and Lego-friend have really helped me. I don't know why they're different from other people I've talked with in the past. Maybe it's because they're both in Maine, or that they've met each other in person and I've met phone-friend in person. They're more tangible than other internet friends, even though we're still apart most of the time. =======

I'm still jittery, now that I'm more awake. Just a bouncing leg. My mind has calmed to the point where I could probably doze off if I laid down again. Briefly considered going to Ellsworth with my dad, at least to pick up fast food. Nah, I think I want to nap; it's probably wiser in the long-run.

As usual, I have library on Tuesday. Thursday is a dental appointment in the morning (fillings on back molars), followed by meeting up with my phone-friend. They've convinced me to try boba tea for the first time, so that's my plan for Friday, before heading back home.

It'll be a lot of chilling again, snacking in the room instead of going to a restaurant. After dental stuff, I want to take it easy anyway.

Just need to make sure I have my gifts for phone-friend's family wrapped, and I'm all set. I'm glad I went with an alternate plan. The embroidered drawstring bag will wait til Christmas, thankfully. =======

So yeah, I had a fucking day, my god. I'm in a better mood now, though more venting will be necessary. Still feeling like an over-stimulated toddler, somewhat. Struggling with the weight of fabrics on my skin versus feeling chilly. Had to close my window after I woke up.

Will probably go back to bed soon, though I might read webcomics or that Jane Eyre thing. (They just had the scene where the ~mystery person~ set fire to the dude's bedroom, hahaha.)

[skythesnake]

I have a writing prompt for you I saw on insta : if you had the grumpy x sunshine ship confess their love how would you do it?

Ooooo, I love these. The story is old and the characters are even older, but I'm glad these two finally get a written confession scene even if I'm not writing their story anymore.

Sarafina was erractically flipping through the pages she stole from the stronghold when Sage burst through the door. They let out a yell and barreled into her, wrapping her in their arms and nearly knocking them both to the floor. Sara automatically pulled away and pushed Sage to arms length. Her sharp reply was cut off by the tears in her friend's eyes.

"Sage?" She asked. They didn't respond. Instead, they broke down sobbing.

"I thought you died Sara!" They stuttered through the sobs. She didn't know how to respond. Sage had been a ball of sunshine and happiness since the day she'd met them. In fact... had Sara ever seen them cry? The crying died down after a minute and the two stared at each other.

"Well... I didn't die. In fact, I came out of that place with my long lost twin and some very important information about the recent-"

"None of those were important when I thought I had lost you!" Sara narrowed her eyes at them. She didn't appreciate being interrupted by anyone, even if it was Sage.

"Sara, you are one of the most important people in my life. When I put on that stupid façade so that no one would know the secrects I hid, you were the only one who challenged me. You were the only one in this entire damned realm who cared enough to try to see past the smile and stupid jokes." Sage's voice held an intensity that Sara had never heard before. In all the years that she had known this adorably annoying person, she'd never seen Sage like this. The next words they said were so quiet that Sara nearly didn't hear them.

"I love you." She had to forcibly stop herself from stepping back.

"What?" Her tone - as usual - was much harsher than she meant it and Sage flinched.

"I never wanted to say anything. You've made it very clear that you see me as that annoying person who you only opened up to because I made you. But when I thought I lost you Sara? It nearly destroyed me." Sara did the worst possible thing she could have done. She didn't want to. She hated that this was her response to stressors like this. She laughed. She laughed because Sage had it all wrong and they didn't even know it. She laughed because if someone had told her a year ago that the amazingly beautiful, incredibly powerful Pathfinder would be confessing their love for a mere witch like her, she would have hexed them for their absurd lies. She doubled over laughing.

"I'm sorry, it's just. You like... well, me. Out of everyone you could have fallen for, you fell for a common elf girl? A common elf girl who no one likes at that. Out of everything that's happened to me recently, the hardest thing to wrap my head around is you being in love with someone like me. You are the most powerful, pretty, popular person I've ever met." Their mouth hung open and neither of us said anything for what felt like an eternity. Then,

"You think I'm pretty?" There was the Sage I knew. They winked playfully at me and I shot a glare at them. But my heart wasn't in it. They pulled me into another hug and I didn’t pull away this time. Instead, I hugged them back.

"In case you didn't get it, I love you too. But... is this the best time?" They pulled away and shot me a quizzical look. I glanced back at the papers on the table.

"I just... what if we really do end up losing each other? We're in the middle of a war and you are on the top of Python's - you know, the main power behind the enemy - his most wanted list. Is now the best time for a relationship?" They chewed at their lip as they considered my words.

"No. It's not the best time. But it is a time. And if we spend our last days together scared that we'll lose something, then we won't enjoy those days. Thinking that I lost you made me realize that I don't ever want to shy away from feelings just because I'm scared again. And besides" They flashed me another smile. "Python has been looking for his least favorite child for years now. What makes you think that I'm gonna let my deadbeat father catch me now?" I found myself smiling as I pressed a kiss to their forehead and rested my arm around their shoulders. They smiled back and together we walked back out of the building to give vital information to our side of the war.

[our-thoughts-for-the-devil]

January 31st, 2024 - I'll die with this heat istg

────────────────────────────── Woke up at 1 PM Skipped breakfast It was so hot today ──────────────────────────────

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Everything's fine now. Turns out my mother wasn't angry, she was just tired. Like me. So I guess the problem was me lol

Anyway, I'm physically feeling like shit rn. I went to a restaurant with my mother and ate a huge pizza (even though it was "small" and for 1 person) and drank too much Pepsi. My stomach hurt a lot and we took a taxi to get home.

It was too hot to walk anyway. But since my mother had a free day, we decided to go out instead. Now I'm on the sofa watching my series and whining about this pain. I shouldn't have eaten so much...

My period is still very weird. But I think it happened before, and my mother said it was okay. I'm not sure actually... I'll see what happens during these days. I don't know, I can't even move to check myself in the bathroom.

I don't really care about talking about that. A lot of people have periods, so who cares? If someone cares, well, that's fine. I don't care!

When will this heat stop? It seems to be that the whole week is gonna be extremely hot. And also it seems to be that I go back to school on the 26/2. So I'll be back there soon. I'm craving a routine, I'm not gonna lie.

Hey, I finished my lessons on HTML code! But I'll re-read them and write everything down on the notebook. And then I'll see what I'll learn. JavaScript? CSS? Python? Who knows!

Anyway, that's all for now. I finished listening to Lorde, my favourite album is either Melodrama or Solar Power. I also started watching Steven Universe. For the memories. I'll see tomorrow which artist I'm listening now. I'm excited!

Well, I'll watch these things and go to sleep. Rest well!

It was a good day.

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