#link and Normal are trickier

[cerealforkart]

Animated Dungeons and Daddies Superhero movie that doesn’t actually exist but I watched Spiderverse on new episode day and had a really vivid dream about it part 1, it’s Scary!

[Taylor] [Normal] [Lincoln]

Backstory under the cut

Once upon a time, Theresa “Terry” Marlowe was just like all the other girls. She loved playing soccer and spending time with her best friend, her mom, more than anything else, but everything changed when her new stepdad-also named Terry (ugh!)-entered the picture. While the newly restructured Marlowe family were moving Terry Jr. into their house, Terry the teenager accidentally broke a fishing lure that her new stepdad really should have packed better if it was so fragile and important. Since this incident, Terry has had a whisper in her ear and a power at her fingertips she can use to shape her world however she wants to. Armed with a “friendly” new guide and an awesome new power, Terry Marlowe is dead, and two new persona rise from the ashes, by day, she’s Scary Marlowe, goth-punk seeker of darkness, and by night, she has some sort of superhero name that I haven’t chosen yet, goth-punk enactor of horrors... Or something like that.

[noneorother]

What do Shax and a 30-year-old Sandman comic have in common? Puns. The answer is always puns.

While I've recently revealed Shax does actually know how to spell, (she's just really old), the "angle" message Shax throws through the window to demand the "angel" one was a little trickier, because it's not Middle English, or even Old French, it's probably the oldest pun in Good Omens... it's latin.

Good Omens Season 2, Episode 5, 2023

Fortunately, a time travelling Neil Gaiman left answers for us in his 1995 Sandman special "Sandman midnight theatre." See for yourself.

Sandman Midnight Theatre, Neil Gaiman, Matt Wagner, Teddy Kristiansen, 1995

"Still, they have some illuminated manuscripts in their library which throw fascinating light on early church history. "Not angels, but angles" eh? I've been angling for permission to browse through their manuscript collection for yonks."

Appropriate for an English reverend to be curious about "Angels and not Angles". It's THE earliest christian pun, attributed to Pope Gregory the Great in the 6th century CE.

Oxford reference essential quotations

It comes from a historical account of the pope walking through a market in Rome, and seeing some exotic slave children (i.e. fair hair and blue eyes, and light skin) from what is now the England, and asking where they were from. The master replied that they were "Angles" (Angli in latin) and the pope declared them to be "Angels" (Angeli) instead, which, in latin at that time would have been a pun. This history from Bede actually influenced a lot of the christian world, so we could conceivably make the point that fair blonde and blue eyed angels comes from the idea that they looked liked the English (who were not christian, but pagan at the time of being newly conquered). Aziraphale's looks in the originsl Good Omens are probably a direct result of the lineage in art of this 1,500 year old pun.

Depictions of angels, 1100 years apart Which raises the question: if Shax is asking for the Angel Gabriel with her note, the pun doesn't make any fucking sense.

Jon Hamm plays Gabriel as an "American", specifically not English like the rest of the cast. He does have blue eyes, but as far as Shax is concerned, Gabriel's eyes are violet, not really a human colour. Shax could just actually be stupid (I guess?) and not realize that in modern English that constitutes a mistake (boring), or that Americans succeeded in 1776 (hilarious). But here's a quirkier theory: Shax knows what she's talking about, and she's gunning for Maggie. If you look really closely, demons show up and start hanging around the street earlier in the ball than you would guess. Once a fair number have amassed, they stay waiting for Shax to lead them. However, even though she hasn't shown up yet, they eagerly chase Maggie down the street from her shop. They're only stopped by Crowley, and Maggie gets safely into the ball.

Once inside, she has quite a stunning change of costume, highlighting her blonde hair and blue eyes:

There's so much more evidence to suggest that Maggie isn't really a normal human, but this post is long enough. What I will say is that it's subtle, but once the demon attack really gets going (no thanks to Maggie), Shax and the other demons never look for Jim once, even when he leaves the mezzanine. They concentrate all their efforts on Aziraphale, Maggie and Nina, and never mention Gabriel again.

While Maggie is a Scottish name, and she clearly has some links to Scotland if a random pub in Edinburgh is buying records from her in Soho, she does have a distinctly English accent, and lest we forget...

———————————————

thanks as always to @embracing-the-ineffable and @thebluestgreen for the tasty links and sounding board.

[hollysoda]

Obviously there’s been a lot of speculation around what those magatama’s shown in the recent trailer are meant to be. It probably is as simple as saying “they’re THE tears of the kingdom” *mic drop, explosions* but it’s not the first time an item of that shape and size has been seen in the Legend of Zelda series

Amber Relics (and Dusk Relics) are the same shape. The Amber Relics description says “No one knows where their strange shape comes from”

But that’s not the only magatama/tear shaped item in Skyward Sword

The tears you collect in the Silent Realms also have a similar shape (and are literally called TEARS to boot). Maybe the link is trickier with this one but Dusk Relics are most commonly found within the Silent Realms, so if Link does have to go around collecting these magatama’s maybe this is the place to do it??

So what does this mean? No idea, just your normal Skyward Sword fanatic trying to find as many links as possible

But what I will say is I am hoping the magatama’s have nothing to do with Silent Realms

[emryste]

i know it was between u and a friend but if ur want to i would love to hear wackass character analysis…i love woy and i love hearing peoples thoughts on it on a deeper level!!

ghhhhghfghfhg thank you for asking, it was mostly just me overanalyzing behaviours in some episodes as we did our rewatch. if you're interested, i can gather what little bits i talked about under the cut! as a warning though, theres a lot of words, not all coherent, and most of it is me reading too much into things as well as a lot of personal opinion and bias.

the fremergency fronfract and the boy wander

to start, jay (my friend) mentioned something about seeing a theory relating to the boy wander episode, and how there's something about screwball that makes wander completely shut off to the point of putting on a whole different personality (if anyone thinks they know the post they were talking about, please link it to me! i'd love to read it). all the info we have is screwball is a villain 'from wanders past', and that for whatever reason, he clearly feels like stopping him is more important than befriending him. it's a complete departure from usual wander, and it's part of the reason why i find it so interesting having it follow the fremergency fronfract. in that episode, he is the shining example of what he dislikes screwball for — forcing someone to be happy. he says 'i only present the positive path, i dont force you to follow it' meanwhile in the previous episode took advantage of hater's state and quite literally suggested the dentist should zap hater so hard he would stay good forever.

i dont think this is out of character. at this point in the show, wander is personally attached to hater, cares about him, and is very invested in his happiness. s1 wander, back when they had more of an antagonistic relationship, most likely wouldnt have been selfish in this way. not because he didnt care, because obviously he cares about everyone, but he didnt have that incentive of his own personal feelings. thats why he acted in a way that under normal circumstances, he would think is super dangerous. not to mention, another reason he could be so averse to screwball's ideology is because he sees sometimes sees the same qualities in himself, but they're parts he actively doesnt like and tries not to encourage.

to me, i like the idea that after the fremergency fronfract, wander was feeling guilty about how he acted and his frenzy to keep lord hater as he was. that contributed to why he was so desperate about stopping screwball in that episode, being confronted by someone who is a living specimen of something you feel guilty about would definitely rattle you. as my friend said, it's like karma came back to bite him.

the toddler

a fun little thing i think about during the toddler episode is how wander and sylvia's parenting styles could be indicative of their own childhoods. sylvia makes sense considering what we see of her mum in her family episode and what her environment was like growing up, however with wander it's a bit trickier. my first instinct was either wander had no parents/family of his own so he doesnt fully understand the dynamic, or they were terrible/negligent. perhaps both. this idea mostly comes from wander not really grasping what looking after a child is like apart from his surface level view of what he thinks would work. sylvia's approach isn't as effective but is more indicative of how a lot of parents raise their kids and says a lot about how she was raised, in comparison to wander's which is idealistic and purely thinking about what the toddler wants to a detrimental degree. that, to me, sounds like someone who either has no idea how kids are actually raised, or who is trying desperately to give a toddler what they didnt have. but in the end, potentially all of that could just be considered moot since wander is an normally idealistic guy, and maybe it doesnt say anything about his childhood at all. fun to think about though!

the wanders

for the episode 'the wanders', i talked about how i feel like the wander who always does what you tell him not to (pathological demand avoidance wander as my friend called him lol) could also be the one responsible for his need for freedom and not staying in one place for too long. my reasoning here was the link between not wanting to be told what to do (valuing your free will and autonomy) and how that relates to wander's inclination for being nomadic. i could definitely go deeper into this but you get the picture.

also during 'the wanders', me and jay obviously spoke a little about the 'most important part' wander. they mentioned how whilst he did look tiny he still had the hat, so it's still technically current wander. but rather, it's a part of him that sees himself as helpless, and is a physical manifestion of that by being small and vulnerable. what i always found interesting was how wanders physical form came back before that part was added, whilst the other parts of him all needed to be there for his form to be actualized.

i dont know if the reasoning for this has been answered by one of the crew before, but my reading into it was just that it could be because of a variety of reasons. like maybe that part of him isn't part of his personality but rather something else, like a memory. or maybe, since when sylvia was putting him together and one of the other wanders said something like "if you dont accept all of us, you accept none of us" (relating to make wander whole again), it was something that those aspects of wander didnt want to be part of him even though actual wander saw it as an important part. whatever the reason is, it's always been something that itched at my brain after that episode.

lord hater's and cpeeps' motives

also, i very lightly touched on the topic of lord hater's whole character motivation boiling down to him wanting admiration, to be taken seriously and for people to love/care about him. meanwhile, whilst peepers also wants to be taken seriously, it feels less from a need for love but instead a compulsion to prove himself. to prove he can do things and be powerful despite his shortcomings (literally), which also leans into why we can see peepers' being more evil/ruthless than hater at times. he wants to be admired, but in a different way, to seen as competent.

and thats all the theorizing i did during that rewatch. i could talk about little intricacies and headcanons on how i view the characters for a billion years, but that would definitely make this too long LOL for the rest of the rewatch we just enjoyed the show and had a silly little time. for your enjoyment and as a thanks for reading, heres some highlights of (mainly) my friend whilst we watched:

[sdwolfpup]

For the Festive Fic prompts, I'd love to see what you do with 14 or 17!

14. family invites a rival/enemy/the boss to a Christmas party/vacation

"What is she doing here?" Jaime hisses to Tyrion as they stand in the receiving line at their father's annual Christmas party. It's always an overblown affair: everyone dressed up like they're about to meet the Queen, the abuse of gold-plated decorations, the persistent jazzy Christmas music soundtrack, and dear god the garlands. It's like a forest exploded all through the house.

Normally, Jaime finds the whole thing tedious and boring and he and Tyrion skip out halfway through to go get drunk on Tywin's most expensive liquor that gets trickier to find every year. The old man hasn't outwitted them on hiding places yet, but it was a near thing last year.

Jaime expects this year to be different, though, because there, large as life, is Brienne Tarth hovering at the end of the receiving line, her hulking shoulders hunched, the austere black of whatever dress she's wearing doing her no favors. She looks like she's at a funeral, not a Christmas party.

Which would suit the dour, frustratingly stubborn woman that is his primary rival in the world of high-end real estate.

"I can't see who you mean but based on the venom in your tone, I suspect you mean Ms. Tarth," Tyrion drawls. "She's here because Father invited her."

"What?" Jaime turns on his brother, completely ignoring the councilmember just holding his hand out to be shaken. "Why?"

Tyrion takes the councilman's empty hand and pumps it aggressively, wishing him a Merry Christmas before turning back to Jaime. "Because he wants to hire her," he says like Jaime's being especially obtuse.

Jaime stares at the woman creeping closer in the line. "But she works for the Starks. She hates us."

"She hates you," Tyrion says cheerfully, taking over for Jaime as he ignores two more people in line to glare at Brienne. "The rest of us she's neutral about."

Jaime scoffs. "That's only because she hasn't met you yet."

Tyrion kisses the hand of a woman and Jaime watches her laugh prettily. His brother lifts his brow smugly. "I'm very charming, Jaime. I'll bet you a case of that scotch we had last year that I can get her to be my friend before you."

The music dips for a moment and Jaime hears Brienne saying, "Merry Christmas" to one of the many Lannister Realty employees down the line from him. Her voice is soft and almost sweet--nothing like she sounds whenever he has the misfortune of talking with her.

"I'm not taking that bet. She'd befriend you just to spite me," he grouses. He shakes a few more hands without really seeing any of the people in front of him, too busy keeping an eye on Brienne's progress as she makes her way.

He can tell the moment she notices him in line, because all of the ease and shyness drains out of her and she straightens, lifting her head like a bear that's just spotted a threat.

Good, he thinks, meeting her gaze with a cool smile. Best she know what's waiting for her if she's considering this.

Jaime's flooded with anxious energy waiting for the line to hurry and deposit her before him and then it finally does. Up close, the black dress turns out to be shorter than he'd thought, and her very long legs stick out of it thick trunks. Her arms and shoulders--her best features, in his opinion--are covered, but an alarmingly broad swatch of her pale, freckled chest is bare except for a jeweled, golden sword hanging from a delicate necklace chain. It looks incongruous, the fragility of the links against the ropey tendons of her neck, like a trail of kisses against her skin.

Jaime blinks and jerks back. "Tarth," he greets her, folding his hands behind his back. "Did you get lost on the way to the Stark holiday party? Or are you hoping to actually enjoy expensive food at a work function for once?"

She grimaces, a familiar look on her wide face. "Lannister." She shoves her hand out at him as though a parent is standing behind her and forcing her to do so. He looks down at it, the wide span of her palm, the mountainous knuckles, and marvels again this woman is as successful a realtor as he is when he looks like he does and she looks like this.

Her hand hangs between them for a long moment before he finally takes it, feels the sting as she squeezes more than is polite. He hides a grunt and squeezes back, enjoys the way her eyes narrow and she puts even more strength into it, a vise slowly crushing the bones of his hand. He returns it, the two of them locked in an escalating battle of pain until Tyrion clears his throat.

"If you two are done trying to rip each others hands off, you're holding up the line." He sounds richly amused and Jaime realizes that the line has bunched up behind Brienne and there's a large space between her and the people ahead of her now.

She yanks her hand away and Jaime is oddly delighted by the stripes of red that flood over her cheeks like fingerpaint. He's less delighted by the way his hand is throbbing. He sees her flex her hand at her side and hopes he gave as good as he got, because he's convinced he'll have bruises in the morning.

"Enjoy the party, Tarth," Jaime tells her as she hurriedly shakes Tyrion's hand and mumbles Christmas wishes. "I don't expect you'll be invited back next year."

Her eyes skate back to him, blue and cold as the ice in the middle of a glacier. "That's because I'll be in the receiving line ahead of you."

Tyrion hoots with laughter because the best realtor gets the dubious honor of being here at the end of the line nearest Tywin and the leadership team.

Brienne's already hurried too far to make a comeback worth it, or even audible, and Jaime swears he won't have a single drink tonight until he's driven Brienne Tarth from the grounds, or at least from his father's perspective employment.

(Festive prompts here)

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 26 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2085 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I let out a quiet, pained noise, frightened and hurt like some scared critter stumbling into the lion's lair. James's eyes flicked up, catching mine for the briefest fraction of a second, shock and regret dancing in his blue gaze before I pivoted and beelined it out through the kitchen door.

✦ summary: Despite choosing to remain by Dave's side, Nore finds that getting over her feelings for James is harder than she thought it would be.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, recreational drug use, jealousy

✧ you got me wrapped around your finger, do you have to let it linger? ✧

The guys' last weekend in Los Angeles rolled around real quick, kicking off on a slightly chilly Saturday that practically begged for an afternoon tucked under the covers. We cooked up our own version of coziness; Cliff threw an invite my way to chill at Mike's place, puffing on some smokes and sipping drinks while diving into a stack of horror movies Kirk had snagged.

Running into James again was just about as awkward as I'd braced myself for. He gave me a somewhat normal greeting, but the turmoil in his eyes had my heart doing an uncomfortable squeeze. To top it off, he had Pat in tow, showing up at Mike's with this big grin, hand-in-hand with James, their intertwined fingers betraying a closeness I'd rather not have known existed.

I tried to brush that off, though. After all, I had made my choice, hadn't I? Coming back home later that night, I knew I'd land in the comfort of Dave's arms, and whatever leftover turmoil would get washed out like rainwater. With time, the pain and sadness in James' eyes would likely fade. And perhaps, we could go back to being just good friends, sweeping those stolen moments from that autumn under the rug like they never happened.

We kicked back in Mike's basement, popping those tapes into his brand new VHS player. Kirk and Lars posted up on the carpet, Kirk sprawled out with his head in Lars's lap, dropping the occasional comment about film quality or some backstage scoop. Cliff, Mike, and I settled onto one of the couches, passing around a joint, while James and Pat claimed the other one. As the beer stash ran dry, a pizza got ordered, and I started to chill out as the mix of booze and weed took hold.

We all glanced up at the doorbell's ring — probably the pizza delivery. James hopped up to get it, trotting up the stairs with a beer in hand. Pat eyed him for a sec, then decided to trail along. Mike sparked up another joint, which I happily took a hit from before passing it over to Cliff.

"Hey, did you guys know this movie set caught fire during filming?" Kirk tossed out as scenes from The Exorcist flickered on the screen. "They even brought in a priest to bless the joint afterward."

"Wow, spooky," Lars chimed in, sarcastically. Kirk nudged him hard. "Hey!" Lars laughed.

"Hey, Lars, toss me another beer," I casually asked, absentmindedly eyeing the bottom of my empty bottle.

"Ah, I think we're tapped out. Time for a run upstairs."

"I got it," Cliff mumbled, his words a bit slurred as he attempted to stand.

"I'll roll with you then," I chimed in, getting up and stretching with a sigh. "Might as well grab a round for everyone."

The two of us hauled ourselves up the stairs, the steps feeling way trickier to navigate than they should in my slightly buzzed state. Once we hit the kitchen, Cliff cracked open the fridge, hunting down the beer bottles.

I shot my brows up with a grin when I spotted the two pizza boxes chilling on the table, my stomach churning with post-smoking and drinking hunger. I popped open the box, snagged a slice, and chomped down, letting out a satisfied sigh as the warm cheese exploded in my mouth, eyes shutting in a little moan of delight.

My tiny moment of food ecstasy got cut short by the distant hum of laughter. I blinked, curious, realizing I hadn't laid eyes on James and Pat since they jetted upstairs for the pizzas. But if the pizzas were in the kitchen, where the hell were they?

Looking back, maybe tracking down the muffled chuckles echoing down the hallway was a lousy move. But I was riding a bit higher on intoxication than I expected, and a self-destructive curiosity just started creeping into my chest. I crept up to the living room door, halting in silence when I caught sight of James and Pat holding court in the center of the room, huddled up and chatting in hushed tones.

I don't know what hit me first, tearing my heart into a million pieces; maybe it was the way Pat's eyes lit up, her hands resting on James' chest while he gripped her waist, the phantom memory of his fingers on my hips stirring uncomfortably in my chest. Or maybe it was the way they talked and chuckled, clearly lost in their own little world. Or, what the hell, it could even have been the gentle kiss he laid on her lips, sprinkled with sweet nothings meant just for her.

I let out a quiet, pained noise, frightened and hurt like some scared critter stumbling into the lion's lair. James's eyes flicked up, catching mine for the briefest fraction of a second, shock and regret dancing in his blue gaze before I pivoted and beelined it out through the kitchen door.

I gulped down the cool evening air and shut my eyes, tears hanging on and refusing to fall. My hands shook a bit as I slapped them on the porch frame, the wood cold against my skin. I jumped when the door creaked open again, but it wasn't James; Cliff's worried eyes locked onto mine, sadness creeping in at the sorry sight I must've been.

"Cliff..." I said, my voice shaky and tearful before he stepped up, wrapping me in a solid hug.

I buried my face in his chest, letting out heavy sobs as tears flowed down my face, like a dam that had held back way too much. Cliff just held on, running his fingers through my hair as he kept me close. As awful as it all was, I felt relieved as well — like those tears were letting go of some of the crap I'd been carrying around for weeks. When I finally eased up, I pulled back with a sigh, tears still rolling down as I sniffled, trying to wipe them away with my fingertips.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, I totally soaked you," I mumbled, my voice all choked up as I noticed the tear stains on Cliff's shirt. He snorted.

“Screw that, Nore. Want a beer?” He lifted one hand, and I spotted he was carrying a plastic bag with the beers he’d grabbed from the fridge. I nodded, thankful. He plunked the bag down, grabbed one for me and one for himself, and we leaned against the porch railing. “So, spill it. What the hell happened?"

"You know what happened," I mumbled, holding back a sob. I took a swig of the cold beer, the bitter kick helping me calm down a bit. Cliff sighed.

"It's James, huh?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't get it," he said, and I looked up, raising my eyebrows when our eyes connected. "If you're into him, why not figure things out? You know he likes you too."

"Apparently, not that much," I grumbled, and he snorted.

"Nore, no offense, but if the girl I liked kept turning me down, I'd probably try to move on too. Maybe not jump into something else... but I don't know if I'd keep pushing after getting rejected as much as he has with you."

“I... “ my voice broke, and I sighed. "Cliff, I'm with Dave. I made my choice. He needs me... I won't bail on him. Not for James, not for anyone. But that doesn't mean I don't feel..." I stopped, the lump in my throat preventing me from talking. Cliff sighed before pulling me into a tight hug.

"It'll pass." He kissed my hair, and I nodded.

"I know."

"If it helps, I find her damn annoying. And I doubt those two will last more than three months." He murmured, clearly trying to make me feel better. I chuckled softly.

"Think we can still be friends after this?"

“Totally, Nore. Just gotta figure out where you both stand. But if you've made your call... Well, he'll have to get that, babe. Just give him some space, and cut yourself some slack too."

"If you weren't Bay Area's best bass player, I'd swear you missed your calling as a shrink," I teased, and he burst into laughter. I shot him a look, a soft, affectionate grin playing on my lips. It was reassuring to know that even in the middle of this mess, Cliff would always be there for me. "Thanks, Cliff."

"No worries. We got each other's backs, right?" He grinned and messed up my hair. I let out a soft laugh. "Plus, no one messes with my fave cousin."

"I'm your only cousin." I quipped, echoing his usual comeback, and he grinned.

"Exactly. Hey, you're not bailing, right? Wanna head back inside? Kirk might think we hated the flicks."

"Well, he wouldn't be totally off the mark," I swiped away the last of my tears with the back of my hand but made my way to the kitchen door with a sigh. "But let's go back."

As we stepped in, I noticed that James and Pat had vanished from the living room. No clue where James had wandered off to, and honestly, I wasn't itching to find out for the first time in forever. I paused for a beat, my eyes lingering on Mike's phone before a sudden determination took over.

"Cliff," I called, and he shot me a questioning look. "You go ahead; I'll catch up, alright? Got a call to make."

"Sure thing. You sure you don't want me to stick around?"

"Nah, all good. Seriously," I reassured him. He gave my face a once-over before nodding, taking the beers back with him to the basement.

I grabbed the phone, pressing it against my ear, hesitating for just a moment before punching in the number I knew by heart, even though it had been ages since I dialed it.

"Hello?" My mom's voice came through, causing my heart to skip a beat.

I was aware that this number, her personal office line, was the only one she personally picked up. No assistants or housekeepers screening calls. But despite that, a weird tension crawled over me at the sound of her voice. I paused for a sec before diving in:

"Hey, Mom. It's me."

“Eleanore?” she inquired, surprise coming through her voice. “What's going on? Did something happen?" 

"Nah, everything's okay," I murmured, my voice slightly shaky. "I just... I..."

“Are you okay, dear? Were you crying, by any chance?”

“No, I'm fine. I'm fine,” I sighed, closing my eyes. "Actually, I called about that school offer."

"Oh? Tell me what's on your mind," I could feel my mother's tone of voice instantly changing, shifting to the interested and sharp tone she used during her negotiations. 

"I'm taking it. But I want to focus on art, Mom. Not law or business. Just art."

"Alright. I'll have Alice look into the best art schools in the state, maybe even the whole country. We can explore international options if you're interested. You'll get a top-notch art education. But you remember your end of the deal, right?"

"Getting involved in the family business, understanding the ropes, so I can handle things when you and Dad can't. Yeah, I remember," I confirmed in a low voice, aware that this was the most challenging part of the deal.

Business never floated my boat, especially the whole legal operations deal with my family's law firm. But the payoff was too sweet to pass up. And maybe a major life change was exactly what I needed.

"Good call," my mom chimed in, and I could practically picture her smiling. "I'll talk with your father. You'll come back for Christmas, right? We can discuss it in more detail then. Feel free to bring your... Boyfriend along if you want."

The rest of the conversation was a bit of a blur. I knew I'd just made a call that would steer my life for the next few years. No clue if I'd regret it or what kind of person it'd turn me into. But I would do anything to beat the heartache gnawing at my chest. Maybe I was running away. Maybe I just wanted to ditch the sadness.

Perhaps I just wanted to wipe clean the pained look James and I exchanged moments ago. Maybe I wanted to forget that he chose not to come after me, not to offer me any comfort.

But did any of it really matter?

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777

[efangamez]

Wanna submit a totally fitting holiday game and split revenue between all creators?

Look no further than the "Artisanal Winter Holiday TTRPGs" bundle hosted by my favorite game designer @sprintingowl !!!

Please read all the requirements below as listed on their Twitter. Link to that post is HERE.

Please submit all games to @sprintingowl either on Twitter on on Tumblr, though Twitter is the best and fastest option.

-----

The Artisanal Winter Holiday TTRPGs bundle is recruiting!

PLEASE READ ALL TEXT BEFORE APPLYING

This is an itchio bundle. It is ttrpg focused but open to other stuff. All profits will be split equally between contributors.

The bundle can have up to 50 people. Its price will scale based on the number of people, to a max of $25. Eligible games are on itchio. To submit your game, simply link it below. If you have questions about whether your game fits the theme, it fits the theme.

If you have submitted a game to a SprintingOwl bundle before, try not to submit that same game again unless a lot of time has elapsed since you last submitted it.

You can submit multiple games, but please DO NOT link games you do not wish to submit. If I misread something and add the wrong game, I will have to remake the bundle from scratch to fix it.

After recruitment closes, I will reply to you with a confirmation link. Normally I would message you, but c'est la twitter. If all games do not confirm, we will not be able to launch and I will have to delete and remake the bundle.

Recruitment ends on 11/27/23 or when we fill up. After 11/27/23, please check your comment in this thread and follow the link to confirm your game in the bundle.

Again, everyone has to confirm their game or else I will have to delete and remake the entire bundle and we all go through this again, so please watch for the reply.

Finally, because Twitter is going through some changes, if you're interested in joining the bundle but don't have twitter, that's okay. This thread is the best place to submit your game, but games submitted via other channels are fine too.

One last coda, changes to the algorithm have made it trickier to promote bundles, so if you're in the bundle, please try to post about the bundle at least every other day. It's okay if you can't, but every bit helps.

Also, when submitting games from multiple accounts, PLEASE make a different post for each account. I am very susceptible to not noticing this, and it throws the split math way off.

-------

[impishtubist]

Dear imp.

Could you maybe recommend some ’old’ fics?

I find it hard to actually find older fics so normally I just end up reading the newest.

I mean.....all you have to do is go to AO3 and sort by oldest first under the Wolfstar tag. Or go to fanfiction.net and do the same thing. LiveJournal's a little trickier, and I don't have any handy links for any of the Wolfstar communities that used to be active there, and LJ's search function sucks these days. Maybe one of my followers has links to those old communities?

But part of the fun of fandom is wading through all those old fics to find the gems ;) Good luck, anon.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics That Start With W (2) Masterlist

Links Last Checked: August 10th, 2024

part one

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee (ao3) - indistinct_echo

Summary: "His heart pounds from the caffeine and anticipation, but he holds and holds and holds. He wants to keep this from Dan just a little longer, wants to see how far he can edge himself before it becomes too much to bear alone."

or Dan and Phil + 'just normal bathroom stuff'

Wake Up Wokingham (ao3) - Azure (Fancy_Ravenclaw)

Summary: Dan Howell has to learn how to deal with being the only one on earth to know that everyone is being controlled by a higher power. Fortunately, he has Phil Lester to help him with this, and maybe together they could change the situation forever. Maybe.

(TW) Water Boy - elliesfics

Summary: Dan’s high school football season is coming to a close. The only thing worse than having his archenemy Phil Lester on the same team is the fact that he can’t even play this season. But that’s just the surface problem... the secret Dan is keeping behind closed doors is only getting harder to deal with and he worries he can’t take very much more.

wait for me to come home - manchestereyes

Summary: The story of Dan and Phil, as told by their Starbucks sofa. (Or, the bits of it that the sofa could catch anyway.)

Wait for Us (ao3) - dont-tell-them-i-write-phan (QueenBoudicatheGreat)

Summary: After five whole years of waiting Zachary Howell-Lester is ready to go to Playlist Live. Unfortunately airports are trickier than they seem. Zach may be ready but Dan and Phil maybe not so much.

Wait, Where Have I Seen Those Before? - poetictragediess

Summary: Phil would never admit he’d signed up for such a website as camboys, especially not to his best friend/flatmate.

Waves Will Pull Us Under - botanistlester

Summary: Dan is a marine biologist in training and Phil is a mermaid

We Are Young - adorkablephil

Summary: Dan and Phil go skinny dipping in Jamaica in 2010

We Made These Memories For Ourselves - sleeplessnightwithphan

Summary: Phil had only just gotten to meet Dan, had just has the best days of his life with him. Now, he has to watch helplessly as Dan has to get on the train to go back home, go away from Phil once more.

Weave Me Into Your Skin - botanistlester

Summary: When Phil finds a pair of panties mixed in with his and Dan’s laundry, he’s not sure what to think, consider he’s certain neither of them has brought home a girl in the past few weeks. What’s even stranger is what he finds in Dan’s room when he goes to inquire about the offending garment.

We’ll Be Okay (ao3) - analester

Summary: the fic where 2012!phil is struggling with dealing with the way 2012!dan’s treating him, and 2017!dan comes and comforts him.

where it is you might be going (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Phil takes the editing internship in 2010 and Dan doesn’t hear from him again until he runs into him in a restaurant bathroom a year later.

Where the Love-Light Gleams (ao3) - blueberryphancakes

Summary: Phil is having trouble getting into the holiday spirit. Dan is a confused, anxious mess. Somehow, Christmas turns out okay anyway.

where things come back. (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: "“I don’t know where to start.” Dan ran a hand through his hair nervously, and he understood what he was feeling now. It was like his dreams; he felt like he was standing on the ledge again, overlooking the body of water that could swallow him up whole. This time, he voluntarily jumped off, plunging into the deep, while he was scared of what would come, he was ready for the free fall."

A coming of age story about what it means to be queer, canary birds, documentaries, and falling in love for the first time.

Where This Takes Me (ao3) - dandrogynous

Summary: They don't talk about it for a very long time. It's too much, at first, too strange and specific to fit into any one category, the lines between best mates and something else, something other, blurry and undefined. Phil refuses to call it something better because it isn't. It's not. Nothing could be better than the way it feels to hear Dan tell him, his voice quiet and heavy with fondness and sleep, “you're the best friend I’ve ever had.”

(the love story of Phil Lester in 2010)

where we belong (ao3) - parentaladvisorybullshitcontent

Summary: "Only you," Martyn says.

"Only me what?"

"Only you could end up stranded in the middle of nowhere with a gay author who writes gay books. Jesus Christ, Phil."

In which Phil is snowed in with nobody but the mysterious dark haired author next door for company.

White Noise (ao3) - LemonNinjaa

Summary: Phil moves to London, and through the walls of his new flat, he can hear his neighbours arguing, but he can also hear the sounds of someone playing piano and singing beautifully, so maybe it evens out. Musician YouTuber AU.

White Silken Sheets - auroraphilealis

Summary: Dan’s always liked being dominated in bed. Phil’s the only one Dan felt safe enough to take complete control, however. The only one he trusted to take him into sub space, and the only one he trusted to take his breath away. Literally.

Will You Marry Me? - doomedhowell

Summary: Phil adds a little twist whilst filming Phil Is Not On Fire.

Winter Wishes - chocolatesaucelester

Summary: Christmas is without a doubt Phil’s favorite time of year, and he’s convinced there’s something purely magical about the season. His festive feelings are only amplified when a little bit of Christmas magic brings he and Dan a little closer.

Wish For Snow - manchestereyes

Summary: It's February. There's snow. There's Dan and Phil. 

Work That Rock - adorkablephil

Summary: Phil has more confidence now, but sometimes he still feels awkward

Worth The Wait - auroraphilealis

Summary: It’s 2009, and Dan and Phil have been skyping for months. Dan’s the first one to bring up soulmates. In this world, the first place soulmates touch, a tattoo appears unique to them, and occasionally showing up in slightly different places on each other’s bodies, but the same nonetheless. Dan’s pretty sure Phil’s his soulmate, even though they haven’t met in person yet, haven’t had the chance to touch and see, and he wants to know if Phil’s feeling the same way.

[sheepwithspecs]

Playing to Win: Chapter 2

|| FFXIV || Rated M || (2 / 5)

Ao3 Link

The Final Days may be ravaging Thavnair, but the first ripples of despair’s swan song have yet to fully reach La Noscea. While others tremble in the wake of nightmares, life on the docks of Limsa Lominsa continue as normal. The same can be said for the eternal rivalry of the Sanguine Sirens and the Kraken’s Arms, as well as their obstinate captains. But as tensions rise alongside reports of monsters prowling the coastline, they will soon come to realize that the only thing more frightening than a Blasphemy is… a confession.

"Though she has her own place, Captain Rhoswen often dines at the Bismarck in secret." -Melkoko

If you wish to see something done right, you must endeavor to do it yourself.

As a child, Carvallain had often heard his father tout the age-old adage when dealing in trickier affairs of business. It was one of the few life lessons he’d taken to heart, and it had served him well in his thirty-odd years of life. At times, however, he was reminded of the lesson’s importance in the most inopportune ways, with minor grievances that might have easily been avoided had he taken matters into his own hands. These tribulations were often too petty to quarrel over, and yet they were also just aggravating enough that he could not let them go unnoticed.

A ruined meal, for example.

On those tedious days when he was forced to meet face-to-face with merchants from across the star, Carvallain often treated himself to a delicious—albeit pricey—private luncheon courtesy of the Bismarck. Although he considered himself something of a connoisseur, the dish he ordered was something more akin to comfort food. His cuisine of choice: Ishgardian beet soup, served fresh from the pot with a soft bread roll and a tall glass of wine. A hearty meal flavored by nostalgia, the rose-tinted reminder of bygone days.

Being a popular restaurant, the Bismarck was often booked for months in advance; in order to sidestep this waitlist, Carvallain usually made an effort to speak with Lyngsath personally. The Seventh Sage provided the Bismarck with a hefty discount on a variety of culinary imports, and Lyngsath was willing to pull strings and provide the occasional bribe in return. This time, however, their respective schedules had made it nigh impossible to meet before the appointed day. Desperate, he’d hastily scribbled down his chosen menu on a spare sheet of parchment before handing it off to one of the culinarians. 

Now, weeks later, he was reaping the unfortunate rewards of his split-second decision. The Bismarck culinarians had not, in fact, prepared him a piping hot bowl of Ishgardian beet soup. Instead, they had prepared him a piping hot bowl of Garlean beet soup.

“What does it matter?” Gerald had asked, upon hearing of the mix-up. “Beets are beets.”

“There is more than one variety of any given vegetable,” Carvallain had argued, angrily pushing away the offending soup. “Furthermore, it’s the principle of the matter. When a patron orders a meal from a prestigious restaurant, they are entitled to come away satisfied. I am not satisfied.”

“What do you plan to do about it, then?”

“For one thing, I will be marching over there to speak with Lyngsath on the sloppiness of his kitchen staff.” Gerald, used to his captain’s stringent demands, rolled his shoulders in a careless shrug.

“But are you not going to eat it?” Carvallain wrinkled his nose at the offending bowl, with its wine-dark puree and pale sprig of garnish. “Let me have it, then; I don’t care one way or another about the beets.”

That evening, Carvallain crossed the short breezeway between the Seventh Sage and the Bismarck. The sun hovered just above the horizon, coloring both sea and sky in vibrant shades of pink and orange. The air was lively with the clink of silverware and hum of conversation from the restaurant’s al fresco diners. Future patrons stood in a line that stretched along the upper walkways, waiting with growing impatience as they announced their reservations one by one to the attending hostess. 

He ignored the “No Entry” sign on the lower door, opening it to find the Bismarck’s crowded storage room. Crates were stacked here and there in the corners, their bulky wooden shapes broken only by the rounded curve of iron-rimmed barrels at odd intervals along the walls. Aging casks of wine stood ready along the far wall, stacked up higher than even a Roegadyn could safely reach. Ropes of onions and peppers were strung from the rafters alongside large linen sacks of flour and salt.

Near the entrance to the kitchens, a Miqo’te culinarian was busy tapping a barrel of ale. He approached with a polite smile, signaling with a wave of his hand.

“Excuse me, my good madam.” The culinarian looked up at him with wide eyes, her ears perking curiously before falling back to her skull. “Where might I find Lyngsath? I need to have a word with him.”

“Oh! He’s down cellar, but…” she trailed off uncertainly, eyes darting to the archway that housed the stone staircase. “I don’t think… that is, you probably shouldn’t—”

“Never mind,” he interrupted smoothly, with all the charm and grace he could muster. “Continue with your work, my dear. I shall go down myself and find him.”

“But sir—!”

Ignoring her continued protest, Carvallain descended the narrow staircase to find himself in the cellar. The vaulted stone chamber was full of perishables, shelves of aging cheeses and great vats of pickled vegetables, rows upon rows of jars containing jams and jellies, and several unmarked boxes piled high with ingredients used in the more tongue-tantalizing dishes served upstairs. His lips unconsciously pursed at the sight of katsuobushi, remembering how he’d once foolishly passed off an entire crate to the Sirens without knowing its true worth as a stock.

At the end of the long room was another door, this one covered in baize to muffle any sounds from inside. The door stood propped open with a barrel, allowing him a clear view into the cellar’s second chamber. This room appeared to be Lyngsath’s private galley, with all the tools needed for any culinary venture imaginable. A large stone oven had been built into the outer wall, as well as a stove like the ones used in the upstairs kitchen. Shelves of ingredients and solid wooden counterpanes lined either wall; beneath a free-hanging rack of pots and pans, a stone island stood sentinel in the center of the room.

He found Lyngsath in front of the stove, his broad face creased with intense focus as he stood over a bubbling stewpot. At his side, perched on a wobbling, three-legged stool… was Rhoswen. Carvallain did a double-take, barely able to recognize her without the trademark crimson garb and tricorne. Without them, she looked as unassuming as any other Limsan native in plainclothes.

Seven hells— Carvallain quickly retreated to the shadows, preferring to observe the scene without fear of discovery. What is she doing here? The galley was a far cry from a tavern kitchen, yet Rhoswen seemed perfectly at home on her little stool. And Lyngsath didn’t seem at all concerned to host a culinary rival in his workshop. In fact, the two seemed to make quite the cozy pair. Hmm….

A gentleman of high standing would not be caught dead listening to a private conversation. It was far beneath him to pry, but he simply could not leave the restaurant until he’d uncovered the reason behind this little rendezvous. By leaning just so against one of the shelves, he was able to see both parties while still remaining hidden from plain sight, one ear poised to catch any choice snippets of conversation.

Lyngsath gave the steaming contents of the pot one final stir before sampling it with a smaller spoon. He rolled the liquid experimentally around his mouth, tongue working in his cheek before his eyes lit up in an expression of pure joy.

“I don’t know how, but ye’ve done it again! This is damn near perfect!” He laughed, his booming timbre echoing in the vaulted ceilings. “Clever girl, using apples to sweeten the broth! I’d have never thought of it, meself.”

“Pshaw.” Rhoswen dipped her head, cheeks glowing with the compliment. “Ain’t nothin’ to it, really. I learned it meself from a long-eared Gridanian farmer when we took on that job for the Botanist’s Guild last summer.” She deftly pared another apple as she spoke, peeling the skin from a slice and popping into her mouth with a satisfying crunch. “I ain’t above takin’ advice from the professionals. I reckon if they grew the damn things, they oughta know how to eat ‘em too.”

“N’ it’s paid off, ain’t it?” Lyngsath chuckled. “Just last week I had two of my best culinarians going off their heads, tryin’ to figure out the secret ingredient in the Missing Member’s braised beef. It’s makin’ me wonder, now… could it possibly be?”

“Might be.” She winked. “Then again, might not. I gather me own herbs n’ spices rather than relying on the markets, so who’s t’say I ain’t got more than one secret ingredient?” 

Damn it all! Carvallain let out a low exhale, cursing his poor luck. This isn’t a chance encounter! It’s nothing more than a meeting of minds.

Clearly this was some sort of preplanned event; by the familiar way they spoke to one another, it might have even been a regular occurrence. While he firmly believed his opinions about the kitchen’s lack of quality service to be well founded, Lyngsath was in no position to hear them at present. Besides, he’d already endured countless merchants and their unending woes, with no consoling meal to bolster his mood. Any complaint on his part was not worth the trouble of fighting off that screeching she-devil. He turned to make a silent exit, swallowing back the bitter taste of lost gil.

“Y’know, lass, yer a true natural with flavors. I just don’t see why ye refuse to even think about striking a bargain with the Seventh Sage.” Carvallain froze, his head snapping towards the galley fast enough that the bones in his neck protested. “It’s a damn shame that pride o’ yers will keep ye from reaching yer true potential.”

“My pride?” Rhoswen scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh! Do ye honestly think that fop would bother cuttin’ me an honest deal? He’d have me head on a platter first.”

“Aww, ye don’t know that.”

Oh, yes she does! Carvallain sneered at the mental image of Rhoswen in the Seventh Sage, begging on bended knee for a single jar of Thavnairian ten-spice. He could humiliate her by parading her around as his personal servant, or force her to do menial tasks in the hopes of earning his favor, only to deny the request the moment his amusement finally waned. He almost wished she’d be foolish enough to try it, just to provide him with some much-needed entertainment.

“I mean, it’s a whole new era,” Lyngsath continued, oblivious of their observer and his cruel reverie. “Piracy ain’t what it used to be, after all, but ye found yer niches well enough. The Krakens have made a good name for themselves as tradesmen; I even heard that Carvallain brokered a deal with Ishgard, n’ I know good n’ well he used to avoid any mention o’ the place on principle.”

“N’ look at yerself!” he gushed, waving a mittened hand towards the stool. “Every night folks are lined up n’ down the balustrade, waitin’ to set foot in yer tavern. Not to mention this new seaborne guard-for-hire business on the side. Before long, ye’ll be up to yer neck in gil. So, why not let bygones be bygones? With yer talents and his spice, the Missing Member would be giving me and ol’ Baderon both a run for our coin!”

“Shut yer trap!” Rhoswen snapped, the blush spreading down her neck. She turned away from the open flames, fanning herself with the loose collar of her tunic. “Yer so full o’ it.”

“Full o— Why, I’m as serious as the plague!”

“Whatever. N’ anyroad,” she added, after a pensive moment, “the Missing Member was never meant to be fancy. We’re peasant folk makin’ food after our own ‘earts; that’s why everything on the menu is sourced from La Noscea, from the farm-grown ingredients down to the herbs we pick ourselves from the coastline. When ye eat, it ought to put ye in mind o’ yer ma’s food. If we started to use them fancy spices, n’ ingredients with names so long ye can’t begin to spell ‘em… it just wouldn’t be the same.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy it here.” Rhoswen picked up another apple, stripping the peel from its flesh with deft flicks of her wrist. “It’s peaceful-like, without everyone banging about n’ hollering at the top o’ their lungs. Ye can hear yer own thoughts, n’ I like that. I like helpin’ ye with all the newfangled recipe ideas ye always seem to have brewin’ away in yer head. N’ when them recipes get popular with yer customers, I ain’t never asked for recognition, on account of I don’t want any.”

“That’s true enough.”

“The fact is: I don’t come down here because I want to become a famous sooz-chef,” she declared, butchering the term in her usual manner. “I do it because I like to cook. But if Carval—if other people started to find out things like that, they’d start claiming that Captain Rhoswen’s gettin’ soft in her old age.” She scowled down at the newly cored apple, turning it over in her hand before slicing it neatly down the center. “All that to say: I wouldn’t be caught dead crawlin’ to that uppity whoreson, even if he were the last man on this star who could spare me an onze of salt.”

“Uppity, eh?” Lyngsath chuckled. “Now, now… ye weren’t saying such things when ye came ‘round askin’ for advice on chocolates not so long ago.”

“T-That—ugh!” Her face was turned so that Carvallain could not see it clearly from his current vantage point. Lyngsath could, however, and one look had him breaking into bellowing peals of laughter.

“Bwahaha! A face like that would turn milk sour—”

“That’s enough!” With a flash of steel, the paring knife was buried in a nearby cheese. Lyngsath jumped, eyes widening as he stared at her white-knuckled fist gripping the handle hard enough to hurt.

“Lass?” He ventured cautiously. Rhoswen’s expression took on a stricken appearance, releasing the handle as though burned.

“Oh… I didn’t mean t’—” She swallowed thickly, seeming to wilt on the spot. Before he could move she’d buried her face in her arms with a muffled sound not unlike a wounded animal. Carvallain all but clung to the shelf, equal parts curious and appalled as he studied the scene unfolding before him.

He’d seen Rhoswen angry before, blazing with fury. He’d seen her vengeful, willing to throw her own life away for one last bullet in a Garlean skull. But this was the first time he’d ever watched her lose control. A shock to the senses, but not in the way he would have imagined. It made her seem so… vulnerable.

The thought should have pleased him. It did not.

“Oh, lass….” Lyngsath seemed to feel the same, his gaze sympathetic as he reached out to gently pat her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Ye can tell ol’ Lyngsath. I won’t breathe a word of it to no one.”

“I hate him!” Her eyes were dry when she lifted her head, but each word drawn from her quivering lips sounded more like a sob. “He makes me ‘eart ache somethin’ fierce, n’ I hate him all the more for it!”

Her… heart? Carvallain averted his eyes, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of the word. What did her heart have to do with anything?

“Don’t ye think it’s time to set him straight?” Lyngsath wiggled the knife free of the cheese, setting it aside. “With plain speak, not chocolates or challenges.”

“I don’t know… it just ain’t our way, I guess.” She flicked halfheartedly at the apple peelings, cheek pillowed on her fist. “Even if it was, we still gotta think about appearances n’ such. Krakens n’ Sirens, we’re still part o’ the tri… triad?” she guessed, making a face. “Y’know, the three powers. If somethin’ were to happen to either crew, the whole city-state would be thrown off-kilter. Pirates would be blasting one another off the Aftcastle left n’ right for the chance to replace us. Don’t ye think we’d have mopped the floor with those puffy-shirted man-boys ages ago, if that weren’t the case?” 

Rhoswen had a point. The rivalry between the Krakens and Sirens had been kept alive for years by the very idea that neither side could ever be allowed to overpower the other—the resulting imbalance would be far too great a blow to Limsa Lominsa’s shaky hierarchy. On land and sea, both crews set their behavior by a mutual understanding that today’s loss would become tomorrow’s gain, proverbial scales in eternal equilibrium.

“Anyroad,” she sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her palm, “Carvallain don’t seem like the kind what wants a truce. I’ve tried to play nice with him before, but nothing ever comes o’ it. Last ‘Eavensturn I even went outta my way to charm an extra cake from some no-name adventurer, n’ what does he do? When I go to give it to him, the blighter tosses the damn thing overboard! He went so far as to laugh in me face about it!”

“That’s not something I’d have expected from a man what calls himself a gentleman,” Lyngsath agreed hesitantly. “’Tis passing strange: the Carvallain I know would never turn down a Heavensturn cake.”

“Hmph. Probably thought I’d done som’mat to it. He ought to know better, though. Say I was fool enough to kill him. I wouldn’t bother with something as cowardly as poison. No, I’d just march right up to the Seventh Sage n’—” She mimicked cocking and firing a musket, aiming her finger at the far wall with a click of her tongue. “No need for underhanded tricks. I got me honor to think about.”  

“That’s so.” Lyngsath stirred the stewpot with a pensive air. “Clearly the way to this man’s heart is not through his stomach.”

“It ain’t that. It’s me.” She made a face that, in any other circumstance, might have given Carvallain cause to smile. “He won’t have nothin’ to do with me. I even went n’ invited him to that gaudy casino in the middle of the desert, n’ the bastard stood me up. Me n’ the girls still had our fun, o’ course, but… I thought after all we’ve been through, he might have at least humored me.”

But I was there! It was frustrating beyond measure to remain hidden, when he wanted nothing more than to charge into the galley and defend his honor. He seethed in silence, fingernails biting into the meat of his palms as he struggled in vain to pick apart her argument. Perhaps he had been rather hasty to dismiss her offer of a Heavensturn cake. But he had never failed to answer a challenge, written or otherwise! In this, surely, she had to be mistaken.

The letter had been very clear about when and where the duel was to take place. He had arrived accordingly, only to find the area empty of familiar faces. Then again, the noise and flashing lights of the casino had been admittedly taxing on his senses. And the crowd had milled thick around the designated meeting place. And she was so very small…. Was it possible that he had simply overlooked her? Even so, if you had but signed the note, I might have found reason to tarry overlong—

“Well,” Lyngsath remarked, sparing her a sidelong glance, “If ye ask me, I think he’s a bloody fool to ignore what’s right under his nose. A beautiful lady like yerself should have folk trippin’ over their own boots in their hurry to court ye. If he can’t see that, he must be blind.” 

 Court?! His jaw dropped, ears burning at the very mention of the word. Court!? What in the name of—since when was he—just who did they think—

“But ye see, the so-called gentleman likes his women refined.”

 “Pshaw!” He shook his head in clear disapproval. “He might say that, lass. He might even believe it. But Carvallain is a pirate at heart, no matter what fancy term he uses to describe it. N’ no pirate worth his salt would ever be truly happy settling down with one o’ them prim n’ proper types.”

“Them refined ladies are… well, they’re a bit like puff pastries. Beautiful to look at, n’ sweet as sugar on the surface. But if ye open ‘em up n’ take a look inside, ye’ll find that they’re full of air. They’ve nothing to satisfy yer hunger, n’ soon enough ye’ll be wishin’ ye had something a bit more filling.”

“A lass like yerself, on the other hand, is like a nice meat pie. Sure, some folk might turn up their noses at the offer of old-fashioned peasant fare. Ye might even look a little plain to some, seeing as how yer not all bedecked in spun sugar and fancy glaze. But we both know there’s nothing wrong with a simple homecooked meal. Underneath that crust is all manner o’ savory bits, just waiting for the right person to come along n’ appreciate it. Yer nourishing n’ hearty where it counts. Don’t forget that.”

“Seven bleedin’ hells! Is that yer way of cheering a girl up?” Rhoswen berated him sharply. “Calling her a meat pie?!” She crossed her arms, turning away with a huff. From his hiding place, Carvallain could see that her entire face had lit up in a deep blush. Even the tips of her ears were tinged red. “No wonder ye never landed yerself a missus!”

“Don’t be too harsh with me, lass. I was only trying to help.”

“Ah, well.” She shrugged. “Don’t go worrying about me. I ain’t never been the type to lose me head over a sweetheart, n’ I don’t intend to start now. Carvallain can stick a rod up his arse if he so pleases. There are more important things to worry about right now.” The corners of her mouth tightened. “Listen: I don’t want ye wandering the coasts for a while. If ye need something n’ ye can’t find it in the markets, come see me. Aye?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Dunno.” Rhoswen stood, reaching for her cloak. “I’ve just been hearing things, is all. Might be nothing. Might be something.”

“I’ll trust yer judgment on that. And I’ll be sure to pass the message along to the staff as well; don’t need ‘em getting any bright ideas.”

Carvallain did not wait to hear more, unwilling to risk being caught in a compromising position this late in the game. He needed time to think, his head awhirl with everything he’d seen and heard. He crept stealthily back the way he had come, thoughts tangling until he could not tell where one thread began and another ended.

Rhoswen and Lyngsath, their professional relationship that seemed to border friendship. How long have they known one another? How many dishes hold traces of her influence?

Rhoswen make an effort to be nice to him, of all people. Of course I would have no way of recognizing it, why would I ever presume she could be anything more than—

Rhoswen’s heart, broken, breaking. Why should I care? Why do I care?

Rhoswen. I’ve never seen this side of her before, so animated, so… so unguarded—

Rhoswen. In the lowlight, in that outfit, did she not seem almost—

Rhoswen. No pirate worth his salt would ever be truly happy settling—

“That’s enough!” he admonished himself, shaking his head as though the errant thoughts could tumble out of both ears. The fresh air outside the Bismarck helped to revive him somewhat, though his stomach seemed unsettled and his heart pounded a heavy rhythm against his breastbone. He no longer had any heart for the sunset or the lively dining atmosphere; he hurried across the breezeway, thinking only of the waiting comfort of his airing bed.

It was only when dusk gave way to nightfall that he dared to untangle the mess of his thoughts and lay them all out at once, examining each at his leisure until he was certain he could find a perfectly logical explanation for each. Once again, pragmatism had triumphed in the face of reckless emotion.

Of course, that was only if he didn’t account for bizarre dreams of Heavensturn cakes, laughing eyes, and a very strange sabotender.

[meksynthesis]

Setting up the MIDI trigger channel on a Waldorf Streichfett

This was trickier to do than I had thought. What worked for me was the following (I used the arturia beatstep pro for this):

make sure the streichfett and beatstep pro are on separate power circuits and off

turn on the beatstep pro

on a free/unused sequencer pattern, press the [-] Octave button three times.

after the octave has been set to its lowest value, enter a few C notes (perhaps on beat).

using the knobs on the beatstep pro, adjust each C note all the way down to C-0 (lowest possible note).

test the pattern by hitting play on the beatstep pro.

set the channel for the current sequencer to the desired value (note that you might not be able to use channel 16, and if you are doing split-mode setup, you cannot use a channel higher than 14; see link below)

ensure the beatstep pro midi out is connected to midi in on the streichfett

turn on the streichfett

immediately hold down all 4 memory buttons on the streichfett

count to 10, slowly

press play on the beatstep pro to start the sequence of C-0 notes.

the streichfett should miss one or two notes and then start playing C-0 at whatever settings are configured.

Troubleshooting

If the streichfett is not responding, check to make sure that you're using a valid and good midi-out cable on the beatstep pro.

check the volume level on the streichfett

ensure that the playback channel on the beatstep pro matches the one you want, and is not set higher than 15 for normal mode or 14 for split mode. See: https://www.reddit.com/r/synthesizers/comments/3xq6kz/midi_settings_on_a_streichfett/

[gertlushgaming]

Cybertrash STATYX Review (PlayStation 4)

Cybertrash STATYX Review, a 2D action platformer with elements of a tactical. Destroy enemies, gain experience points, upgrade your character, and immerse yourself in the story through in-game dialogues. Move deep into the levels, eliminating numerous ordinary robots, powerful cyborgs, killer machines, and bosses. Use the tactical element of firefights, the environment, and the abilities of the character. You will be accompanied by light and heavy types of weapons with different statistics and principles of action.

Cybertrash STATYX Review Pros:

- Nice pixel art graphics. - 350.9MB download size. - Platinum trophy. - Works on Playstation 5. - 2D action-platformer gameplay. - Opening tutorial level. - In-game cutscenes and character interactions. - Three difficulties - Easy, normal, and hard. - Directional shooting. - You can do big jumps by sliding and then jumping. - Button prompts show on the screen. - Uses a health bar and shield system. - Hack chests to get loot. - You can carry and hotswap between light and heavy weapons. - Destructible elements within the levels. - Uses a lot of cover-based shooting. - Can see enemy health bars and if they are alerted. - Checkpoints are every time you enter a new room and this acts as your respawn point. - Break boxes to get credits. - Pick up health and shield bubbles. - Earn exp and level up to get points to upgrade your stats - agility, shooting, luck, mining, and hacking back in the hub between stages and sometimes within a level. - The jumping and shooting are fine. - Stages are quite open with a lot of choices for how and where you go in it. - Weapons have X amount of ammo and when it's all gone you drop the weapon. - You can see your level-up bar and current rank. - Clear easy to read ui. - Big boss battles and you see their health. - Buy ammo and health/shields with your credits. - You can go forward and backward on a level. - The camera can be panned around just enough so you can see enemies and platforms. - Easy Platinum trophy. Cybertrash STATYX Review Cons: - No voice work just loads of text. - Can't set conversations to auto-scroll. - A real slow starter. - Cannot remap controls. - It's hard not to take damage from every encounter. - The controls for sliding and Jump make simple tasks trickier. - The slide jump sections in platforming are tedious. - The pacing is all over the place. - When you are in the hub area it's just slow text-based story segments and you can only walk. - You never really know what weapon you picked up. - Levels all seem to be in the same format and it's very repetitive. - A lot of guns you use can kill you. - Boss fights are very underwhelming. - Hard to make out enemy bombs. Related Post: Contra: Operation Galuga Review (Steam) Cybertrash STATYX: Official website. Developer: Uncle Frost Team Publisher: Sometimes You Games Store Links -  PlayStation Read the full article

[baileyblues]

Prelude | Chapter 1: Cryo

AO3 Link Masterlist

If you see any inaccurate information or information you aren't sure about, it's either my headcanons or I just straight up did not know. If you do see inaccurate information, please point it out to me!

I have a lot of headcanons about Whopperflowers here (and lots of other things too)- Also note that this work will be really vague and might be confusing, but I promise it will get better in later works!

It was a cold and chilly day on Dragonspine, as usual. the snow crystals shimmered upon the sunlight as if glowing. Of course, the mountain was deserted as always, save for the hilichurls and wild beasts roaming in the snow. There were lots of ice monsters along the snowy paths, but nothing that couldn't be easily solved. Adventurers and merchants went on with their day, as travelers continued on their way.

But amidst the calm, there was a storm brewing.

Monsters can be easily found everywhere; ranging from slimes to hilichurls, or to ginormous beasts that roam the earth. Monster sightings aren't uncommon, but seeing whopperflowers are rarer.

Although monsters are easily identifiable, whopperflowers are...trickier..

They can disguise their looks by hiding in the ground and covering their existence with a delicate flower. Their nectar, which lures in their prey, smells so sweet and tempting, but it's bitter than what most would think, and more sour than acid. They are the masters of disguise, and can adapt to their surroundings extremely well. Some can only be found in specific regions, whereas some can be found in multiple.

In Dragonspine, the only type that can be found is the Cryo Whopperflower. Only cryo monsters can survive the harsh snowstorms and blizzards of the mountain. Whopperflowers can hunt in many ways, though the most common is to hide underground, and disguise their trail with a flower. They then wait for the prey to catch the bait, and capture it.

Cryo monsters usually eat frozen or cold things. Even though they are able to eat hotter foods, it disrupts their elemental system and will harm them. There are very few whopperflowers that hunt in the open without disguising themselves. It can be a major disadvantage, especially in Dragonspine, where food is scarce.

Whopperflowers are usually independent, but they will group within their own element and don't normally interact with other types of monsters. They are also able to summon slimes of the corresponding element. They often help their own by sharing food with others or assisting in battle.

Although they are plants, they are still carnivores, similar to Regisvines. Their element is essential to their being and will heal in environments corresponding to their own. Their body is mostly made up of said element and is able to react to other elements.

It's been many suns and moons since anything major happened in Dragonspine; but as the times change, the tides will also change with it.

Chapter 2: Electro

[devinkarlson]

BRANDS WALK A MARKETING TIGHTROPE OVER POLITICAL CHASMS

 How do you win when marketing in the face of contentious political issues?

It may not be possible.

To understand the strangeness, and often void, of corporate political marketing, look at Nike and Coca-Cola. These are companies that say Purpose Moves Us and People Matter — and both have made politically correct “social responsibility” part of their brand marketing. Yet they have also reportedly been lobbying against a bill that would ban importation into the U.S. of products made in China with forced labor.

Notably, both the companies were listed in a 2020 report by the Congressional-Executive Commission on China; the bipartisan group of lawmakers said these companies and others had ties to forced labor in the Chinese region of Xinjiang.

In response to inquiries from Zenger News, Nike sent a link to a long statement that talked about its efforts to “assess potential forced labor risks related to employment of Uyghurs, or other ethnic minorities” in China.

However, it never addressed the report of lobbying about the bill.

Coca-Cola’s PR group sent an automated acknowledgment but did not further respond to questions about its lobbying over the forced labor restrictions.

It’s a tough spot for companies that present themselves as caring. Navigating politically and socially charged themes in marketing can be tricky and thorny.

The Super Bowl

During this year’s Super Bowl, for the first time since Anheuser-Bush devoted all its Super Bowl ads to introduce Bud Light in 1983, its Budweiser brand stayed on the sidelines.“[W]e must prioritize humanity and purpose,” read a company statement. The money that would have gone to the ad—about $5.5 million for a 30-second spot—went instead to the Ad Council and public awareness about Covid-19 vaccinations.

Bud had company in seeming to forego advertising opportunities during the game. Coca-Cola and Pepsi also skipped promoting their name brands. Why look like you’re frivolous with money when so many are out of work without extra cash for a six-pack?

Yet Anheuser-Bush still ran spots for Bud Light, Bud Light Seltzer Lemonade, Michelob ULTRA, and Michelob ULTRA Organic Seltzer. Pepsi, meanwhile, sponsored the game’s half-time show. In the end, Metrics firm MediaRadar told Zenger about a quarter of Super Bowl ads were for the broadcaster, CBS, and its services, which was historically typical, meaning ad sales for the game were about normal.

Under Pressure

The Super Bowl was an example of the tightrope marketers currently walk. Politics has always been tricky to address. Now it seems unavoidable. Making things even trickier for marketers may be understanding the difference between politics and “politics.”

In 2019, one poll showed that 62% of adults surveyed either “somewhat” or “strongly” agreed with the idea that brands shouldn’t make statements about their politics in their ads. Nevertheless, there is pressure to be on the acceptable side of any issue.

“Small businesses will most likely decide not to engage,” said Jen Dalton, CEO and founder of Brand Mirror, a consulting firm based in Tysons Corner, Virginia. “But more and more, citizens and employees expect companies to say something.”

The pressure is like the gravitational pull for bigger companies, Dalton said. As for the something expected, it can vary wildly, depending on who’s asking.

The work of cognitive scientist George Lakoff and others opens a door here.

People have mental frameworks based on values. Messages with the right values can be accepted. Those with the wrong ones get kicked out. Forget showing the wrong values. Failure to show the right ones can leave a company high and dry. With customers on different sides of an issue, marketers can get cognitive dissonance.

Who do you try to please?

Tripped

Over the last few years, corporations have even gotten snagged when high-profile people linked to a company have weighed in on political topics.

“In 2017, one of the family members of LL Bean praised Trump and set up a problem for LL Bean,” said Kathleen Day, a business journalist and lecturer at Johns Hopkins Carey Business School. LL Bean released a public letter, saying it was an individual, not a corporate view, she said. “The letter they sent to the public was really smart.”

On the other hand, Howard Schultz at Starbucks in 2015 “really meant well,” according to Day, when he instituted the program to write on their cups “Race Together.”

Many customers blew a gasket.

“It backfired because people [just] wanted a cup of coffee,” Day said.

Then there are the open maws of political parties, always hungry to be fed, and leaving many businesses feeling that they have to cooperate.

“Corporate America hates having to contribute political contributions,” Day said. “They love having influence, but they hate giving money. You have to contribute just to tread water because everyone’s contributing. And you have to contribute to both sides of the aisle equal to what your competitors do. And then it turns into a wash.”

Be Yourself

“Most people will perceive if you’re silent and you do nothing, that could mean you’re perceived as you’re out of touch or trying to play it safe, but in many situations, you should at least say something,” Dalton said.

Finding a way for a company to pull this off without pulling the rug out from underneath itself requires finesse.

“It really depends on brand identity,” said Kris Conesa, director of media strategy at marketing agency Roar Media. “I’m thinking of Patagonia. They have been champions of donating to causes that protect the environment.”

Patagonia took an active stance against the Trump administration on environmental and land management policies. “But that was consistent with their brand,” Conesa said. “It was transparent with how they did it in the past.”

In short, no one should have been surprised.

The more open a company is about its positions and beliefs, and the more transparent those beliefs are, the greater a chance of avoiding trouble among customers. Conversely, the more quiet, the louder the response when things come out in the open.

For example, the Publix grocery store chain took heat over reports that Julie Jenkins Francelli—daughter of the company’s founder and an heiress to the family fortune, and a large donor to Trump and conservative candidates—donated $300,000 to stage the Jan. 6 rally, which ultimately turned into a march for some of the attendees that then spawned the attack on the Capitol building.

The grocery chain issued a statement that said Fancelli was neither involved with company operations nor representative of the company.

Sometimes the only way to engage with the public is a two-word phrase: We’re sorry.

Yet turning off comments is a sign that the expected public response won’t be good. You may not be able to please all the people all the time – but sometimes all you can do as a company is to pacify many, all at once, and just hope that things will blow over. 

Source -  https://roarmedia.com/in-the-news/brands-walk-a-marketing-tightrope-over-political-chasms/ 

[theam-cjsw]

The AM: 2022 Funding Drive Edition

It's that one week out of the year where CJSW asks our community for support. Even if you weren't listening live, you can still donate to CJSW by heading to https://cjsw.com/donate. That goes for folks in Calgary and around the world — The AM has loyal listeners far beyond where our radio tower reaches, and it’s always a treat to see support come in from other countries and continents. Shipping the incentives might be a bit trickier, but the mixes are digital downloads this year, so those are easy enough.

Thanks again to Wordfest, The Allium, and the Calgary Underground Film Festival for their generous donations. We'll be back to a normal-ish AM next week (with some Halloween treats in the mix, naturally).

Listen to the episode at CJSW.com

Stream it on Soundcloud

Other podcasting links

[territelecom]

Labview for mac 10.68

#Labview for mac 10.68 for mac os x#

#Labview for mac 10.68 mac os x#

#Labview for mac 10.68 serial#

#Labview for mac 10.68 drivers#

#Labview for mac 10.68 update#

This solution is appropriate for smaller, lessĬomplex, systems that don't require the features and abstraction provided Standard phone and email support is not available for the Only through online newsgroups, downloads, and register-level programming The Measurement Hardware DDK is designedįor advanced customers developing OEM type systems. Programming tools for NI PCI Data Acquisition devices. The Measurement HW DDK provides a set of multi-platform, register-level Measurement Hardware Driver Development Kit (freeload). Reliable/robust platform and that you do need to maintain another machine.įor native support NI has made available the The drawbacks are that a plain beige box PeeCee is not the most However the Pharlap OS has a reputation of being fairly cleanĪnd robust to avoid the normal problems associated with more common desktop Supporting the hardware of a cheap wintel box and the time labor associated With compatibility to all of NIs hardware. This will allow development in a clean, reliable and efficient environment Network problems isolated from data transfer and control. Probably throw a second cheap ethernet interface in the host to keep Mac OS X and LV 7.1 now support cross compiling for the RT/OS. Recommended it seems that the RT/OS will boot and run on most hardware. Realtime target can be any cheap PC, though NI lists some systems as With LabVIEW 7.1 the "host PC" can be an Apple MacIntosh running OS X! The The link gives a list of supported boards and hardware. This gets around the extreme cost of a PXI crate andĮmbedded hardware. Use a cheap PC as the host for all the hardware running the PharLap RT/OS as There is another little known solution that lets one use the bestĭevelopment environment with NI hardware. Theĭrawbacks of this approach is that the PXI crate is expensive and very Systems that need the features and abstraction provided by NI-DAQ. This solution is appropriate for larger, more complex,

#Labview for mac 10.68 mac os x#

Development is done a Mac OS X system using LabVIEW and deployed NI-DAQ, the driver for NI data acquisition devices, runs on the PXIĬontroller. The first, involves a PXI chassis containing NI PXIĭata acquisition devices and an NI RT-series PXI controller running LabVIEW NI PCI Data Acquisition devices are supported in So again this is a cross platform solution!ĭAQ is a bit trickier. Units running under OS X This uses the new release of NI-VISA which There was also a public demo of the new USB-DAQ Pretty cool that they use LabVIEW to create a C driver. Interface, the C interface will be a subset of the NI-DAQmx C API. Writing the driver in LabVIEW and then using the Application Builder toĬreate a shared library for the C interface. There is be a C interface for NI-DAQmx Base. It is based on Tim Ousley's DDHKĪnd is mostly written in LV! DMA is supported. Support for M series cards will be coming soon (Q1 2005?). The LabVIEW VIs work with LabVIEW 7.0 and higher. NI-DAQmx Base 1.4 supports NI 6508/DIO-96, PCI/PXI E Series, PCI/PXI B Series, PCI/PXI 671x/673x, S Series (AI only), USB-92xx, USB-6008, USB-6009 and USB-6501 devices on Mac OS X.

#Labview for mac 10.68 for mac os x#

Their DDK is not all that completeĪnd is why the driver does not integrate seamlessly into the current VISAĭriver for Mac OS X 10.3 and 10.2 that should work with more cardsīase has been released. The driver is based on NI's DDK and theirĬode has to be purchased, however I am willing to make my patches andĬhanges to this code freely available.

#Labview for mac 10.68 update#

I recommend trying the second file that has much improvedĪ Mac OS X 10.3.X (Panther version) is done as well as a significant update This file has only been tested under OS Xġ0.2.X (Jaguar). Currently you need to do the installation by hand, but the Used successfully for work with both LabVIEW and Igor to access GPIBĭevices. This driver seems to work well and has been The bulk of the work and the inital port was done by Bela Farago However a few of us have created a native OS X driver for the GPIB card,

#Labview for mac 10.68 drivers#

Than a PCI card, it also requires that the drivers be purchased in addition There is a private beta of the National Instruments PCI-GPIB driver! Join the beta program.įor GPIB access, NI recommends use of their ENET-GPIB device thatĬommunicates thru TCP/IP to a GPIB interface. If you use it under classicĮmulation use the drivers installed under classic.

#Labview for mac 10.68 serial#

The Keyspan Twin Serial adaptor seems to work. However all previous versions do run under classic emulationĪccess to instruments can be made thru ethernet (tcp/ip) and serial ports. As of LabVIEW version 7.X, Mac OS 9 will not be It is fully functional and is compatible with LabVIEW on all LabVIEW was released for OS X starting in June of 2003 when version 7.0 was LabVIEW from National Instruments under Mac OSX. I am trying to put together as much as I know about the options for running