#Spose it has to be in high demand

[amerasdreams]

HA!

sold a book on ebay today!

[scribbledquillz]

Dragon Age: Origins OC as PC - soundset and banter edition

Thanks to @wild-houseplant for putting this meme on my dash - I love banter memes for my OCs. :D

I'm not sure who has and hasn't done this yet, so I'll just leave it at whoever wants in, do the thing and say I tagged you. Better yet, @ me so I can see your answers!

Warden’s name: Revka Tabris

Voice option: Curt, clear, and lower pitched than expected with a thick Ferelden accent. Listed in the voice options menu as "Blunt".

Soundset

Select PC: "Ready." / "Let's get on with it." / "Shall we?" / "Excellent."

Bonus options -

High approval: "I'm with you." / "I've got your back."

Low approval: *irritated* "Again?" / "If we must."

Unselect PC: "Really?" / "Sod it." / "Maker's ass." / "Alright."

Bonus options -

High approval: "Be careful." / "Are you sure?"

Low approval: "Make up your blighted mind." / "*disgruntled sigh*"

Combat attack: "You're going to regret this!" / "Didn't think this one through, did you?" / "The big one is mine!" / "*sigh* By the Void, it never ends." / "Hit them where it hurts!"

Mana/stamina low: "Come on, Tabris, keep it together!" / "Getting tired of this shit!" / "The Void do they keep coming from?!" / "This isn't going to end well." / "*angry, violent yell*"

Heal me: "Alright, that one hurt." / "Won't last long like this!" / "Nothing a salve won't fix." / "That's going to leave a scar." / "I'm fine, keep fighting!"

Near death: "This *gasp* isn't good." / "Shit shit shit blighted bloody SHIT!" / "Andraste give me strength..." / "I'll take this bastard with me!"

Bonus options - if Broken Circle is completed / the party has met her brother: "Tell Ceral *pained noise* I'm sorry." / "Mam... Da... I'll be with you soon."

Enemies sighted: "Eyes up, marks ahead." / "Give me a moment, I'll slip behind them." / "Lovely. More idiots to knock sense into." / "Here I thought we'd seen the last of them." / "Sod off already!"

Dragon sighted: "Holy Maker... it's huge!" / "Right. 'Spose we know which way not to go." / "Thought they were supposed to be gone. How in the Void does something that massive hide?" / "...We can turn back any time, you know."

Bonus options - if Warden instigates fight: "Are you MAD?!" / "We're dead. We're bloody dead." / "I ever tell you you're an ass? Because you are."

Spell/attack failed: "Damn it!" / "Shit, that wasn't right." / "Oh, you lucky son of a..." / "Sit still, would you!"

Fight over, enemies killed: "Everyone still breathing?" / "*grunt* What a waste." / "Hardly broke a sweat." / "Check their pockets. Won't need their coin any longer." / "Could've turned out worse, I 'spose." / "One of these days we'll go somewhere folk don't want us dead."

Companion KO’d: “[Alistair] "Alistair! Shield, damn you!" / "Hold on, Alistair, we're here!" [Dog] *to the one who fell Titan* "Blighted coward! You'll pay for that!" / "Titan! No!" [Leliana] "Someone help Leliana!" [Morrigan] "She's going to be furious when she gets up." [Oghren] "Damn it, Oghren is down!" [Shale] "Oh. Shit. How'd they manage to do that?!" [Sten] "Cover the Qunari!" / "Sten! The Qun demands you get your ass up!" [The Warden] "Hold on! I'm coming!" / "Oh no you don't - you're not allowed to die yet!" / *If in a romance with Revka* "No! Not you!" or "*Name*, don't you dare die on me!" [Wynne] "Shit! Mage down!" / "Wynne needs help!" / *if the truth of her condition is revealed* "Haven't you had enough of dying?" [Zevran] "Zev, if you're faking I swear to the Maker..." / "Zevran doesn't look so good!" / *If in a romance with Revka* "Maker, no! Zevran!" / *to the one who fell him* "I'll kill you!"

Trap sighted: "Watch your feet, trap ahead." / "Trap. Cowards couldn't be bothered to face us themselves."

Bonus option - if Warden triggers trap after being warned about it: "...Really?" / "Are you bloody deaf or just stupid?"

Open chest: "Let me have a go." / "Don't ask why I know how to do this, and I won't ask what you do with what's inside." / "Should have something worth a few coins in here."

Cannot do the thing: "Not happening." / "Shit." / "Right. Plan B?" / "Want me to powder your ass as well?"

[seasonschange-butpeopledont]

Walls

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Warnings: I made this angsty as hell and I don’t know why. Vague allusions to spiciness, unrequited love (maybe?), emotionally stunted Joel

Word Count: 1,340

Author’s Note: This is set pre-TLOU. Joel is kind of a dick here. I blame the fact that I’ve been reading Dirt on Ao3 and am just a tiny bit disillusioned with him at the moment. This probably isn’t what you expected, but I promise I have some Joel fluff coming up soon and I hope you enjoy it anyway, anon!��

Prompt: Friends with benefits and both people catching feelings.

Summary: You were never supposed to fall in love with a broken man. 

Taglist Form - Masterlist

“You really think this is the best time to have this conversation?” Joel demanded, a hint of irritation in his voice. 

It wasn’t. You knew that. It hadn’t stopped the words from tumbling out of your mouth. We need to talk. 

You’d known Joel for about a year now, having met him and Tess shortly after finding your way into the Boston quarantine zone. It hadn’t taken long for you to find yourself in Joel’s bed, content to pass your nights in blissful ignorance of the outside world. 

You and Joel were… something. He was a complicated man with no concrete role in your life, and it was killing you. He was obviously more than a friend, but describing him as your boyfriend was strictly, absolutely out of the question. You suspected that he’d walk straight out the gates of the QZ, never to be seen again, if he ever caught wind of you uttering that word and his name in the same sentence. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have blamed him. 

You knew you were being unfair to him by asking for more. It was a complete violation of the unspoken rules of your undefined relationship, but things had changed. You needed answers. 

“I meant what I said, Joel. I need to know what we’re doing here.”

“What’s that ‘sposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” You shrugged. “If you ever wanted to tell me how you feel, it’s now or never.” 

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?” He questioned, crossing his arms over his broad chest. It was a dangerous move on your part. Joel wasn’t a man who reacted well to being backed into a corner, but you were so sure… 

“I heard that one of Robert’s guys has a thing for you. Jacob or Jason or… whatever his name is. This have somethin’ to do with that?” Joel wondered, shifting the attention away from him. He knew you better than to believe you would let this go, but it didn’t hurt to try. 

You almost roll your eyes at the question. It was so obvious to everyone else that you were head over heels for him. The idea that you would end things with Joel for someone else was downright laughable to you now. 

“No,” You shook your head. “This isn’t about that. I’m talking about us.” 

Joel’s jaw tensed at your use of the word. 

“There ain’t an us, remember?” He said, a mocking dreaminess in his tone as he echoed the word back to you. “That ain’t the arrangement we made.” 

The arrangement in question was supposed to be a way to scratch an itch, plain and simple. Nothing more than a way to blow off some steam and distract yourselves from the struggles that came along with the end of the world as you knew it. At first, you’d thought that both of you had seen too much and lost too many people to go and do something as stupid as falling in love, but here you were, in over your head and so sure that there could be something more here, if only Joel would let you in. 

“Well, maybe I want to renegotiate,” You challenged. “I know you care a lot more than you let on. Maybe you can hide it from the rest of the world, but I know you better than that, Joel.” 

You thought you did, at least. For all of the walls Joel had built around himself, they had seemed less insurmountable as the months had passed. As if each passing night together helped knock them down, brick by brick, giving you the glimpse of the man he used to be. The one you’d fallen in love with. 

You thought back to the night when he bandaged your sprained wrist after a scuffle with Bill on a smuggling run. His calloused fingers were so delicate on your skin as he wrapped it in a makeshift brace, and his eyes flickered to yours every so often to check that you were alright. And then there were all of the times that rations ran particularly sparse, as they usually did, and he offered to share his food, claiming that he wasn’t hungry and insisting that you finish it up for him. Joel was a caregiver by nature, even if he believed that life was behind him now. 

Most often, though, you saw that softer side of him in the quiet of his tiny, run-down apartment, with the moonlight streaming in through the window and Joel’s sleepy smile as you exchanged stories about your lives from before. With his arms around you as you slept, safe and warm, it was easy to forget that it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. In moments like those, you had been so sure that deep down, Joel loved you. 

You didn’t see that man now, standing in the dim lights of his dingy kitchen. The Joel that stood before you was harsh, made wary by a lifetime of pain and loss. The more you said, the higher his walls went up. They were towering over you now, just like they had been the day you’d met, as if the past few months had never happened. 

“You knew what this was when we started this,” He grumbled, shaking his head. You could see that he knew where this was headed. You were treading on thin ice here, but you couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. 

“I know. I knew. I mean, I thought I did, but… then I fell in love with you, Joel. And I just thought…” I thought you loved me too, you wanted to say. “Is the idea of someone caring about you really so horrible?” 

The desperation in your voice seemed to suck the oxygen out of the room. It was too late to turn back now, the fragility of whatever it was between you so apparent as the seconds crept by without a response. 

Your words seemed to have struck a nerve with him, his nostrils flaring slightly as he ground his teeth together. He seemed to fight with himself over a response before settling on his biting words. “I told you, I don’t want to hear it. That ain’t what we’re doin’ here. I think you’d better get on home now. Curfew will be here soon.”  

“Please don’t shut me out,” You said softly, stepping forward to place a hand on his arm, practically begging him to look at you. “I love you, Joel. It’s okay to let yourself care about someone again, you know? You aren’t going to lose me too.” 

When he finally turned back to you, you noticed that a coldness had sparked in his eyes. It told you that you’d crossed a line, and you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to go back. He’d never looked at you that way before, and it frightened you in a way that you hadn’t expected, like looking at a complete stranger. 

“This is over.” His voice was hollow and rough like gravel, and as if a part of him was pained by the words despite the finality in his tone. 

Your heart sank at his reaction. It hadn’t been the one you’d hoped for, but it was the one you should have expected. Wherever that man you loved was, Joel seemed determined to bury him along with the life he’d left behind him in Texas. You looked at him one last time, the broken man who’d stolen your heart. 

In a different time and place, in another life where you’d met in a coffee shop instead of a quarantine zone, you liked to think he could have let himself love you the way you loved him. But in this life, the one where he had already lost so much, you knew you couldn’t have that. The walls were just too high. 

“Yeah, I know,” You breathed out shakily, already heading towards the door as the tears threatened to spill over your cheeks. “Goodbye, Joel.”

General Taglist: @theravenreads​ @marshmallowtraver​ @computeringturtle​ @maythxthirstbxwithyou​ @artsymaddie​ @heythere-mel​

Joel Miller (The Last of Us) Taglist: @agirllovespancakes​ @din-damn-djarin​

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

From a wonderful anon:

could i request maybe one where dark has a super huge crush on the reader and basically everyone knows except for them?? and maybe the reader confesses and is all nervous and doesn’t think he likes them back?? and dark getting all flustered and happy?????

-

Your wish is my command, lovely anon! :D

And to add to it, I’m going super cheesy. Coffee shop who? The deli is the place to be! Fall in love while making sandwiches! I mean, think about it! It takes longer to make a toasted sandwich than it does to make a coffee! More time to talk over a few weeks, right?

Word Count: 1,553

(So it had to be put into a new post so I could stick it under a read-more xD)

-

Near the building the Egos rented for their work, there was a small deli. It was locally run and was never too busy. The Egos and non-egos that worked there were likely the reason it kept afloat. Not a soul had a bad thing to say about the place. Dark suspected it used to be a house and was renovated over time. It would make sense, given the ‘snug but spacious’ vibe the main sitting area had. It was a good place to host smaller meetings when he needed a break from the monotonous office atmosphere. But there was another reason why he never really refused an offer to walk over.

You.

You’d recently joined the staff on a part-time basis. It was a good chance for you to learn how best to interact with customers and practice the skill of sandwich making without the high demands of somewhere in the centre of the city. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about you that Dark was drawn to. No matter what was going on, you always had a smile and some simple, polite conversation ready while you made his order. It was a few minutes of peace before Dark had to return to the chaos of the offices and studios.

On this day, Wilford was rather energetic, playfully nudging the entity as they placed their order and paid. They were staying to have a chance to talk about plans for an investigation of some supernatural entity hidden in the river. Dark, as usual, thought it was ridiculous and was trying to shoot it down, but Wilford was having none of it.

“Hey hey look. There they are,” he whispered with a grin as he nodded toward the counter. Dark’s eyes briefly darted in the same direction, and there you were. Your back was to the pair as you prepared coffee for someone standing at the till. It was too much of a risk, and Dark quickly turned back to his own cup before the faint warmth on his face spread beyond his control. This was enough to make Wilford sigh.

“Listen. I know I said ya gotta open up a bit an’ try datin’, but this is embarrassin’. They think ya hate ‘em.”  The reporter rested his head on one hand as he idly stirred his iced tea.

“It’s better this way. I can’t risk anything.” Dark intended to leave it at that, but Wilford was stubborn.

“What’s that ‘sposed ta mean? Yer always parrotin’ off that bullshit ‘bout ‘not being human’ an’ ‘wah wah I’m an emotionless heartless monster’ -”

“Wilford -”

“- but here ya are, gettin’ all rosy over th’ sight of ‘em! This is love, my dear VHS! Ya gotta give this a chance, an’ ya can’t do that hidin’ over here hopin’ they’ll quit an’ leave one day.” Dark was about to object, but was quickly cut off by Wilford adding, “An’ don’t try denyin’ it. I can tell. Yer all calm an’ happy when ya come back from here. Then ya try ta quickly shake it off ya like got snow in yer hair!” By this point, Dark was seething. The constant belittling and mocking was only serving to push his buttons in the wrong way.

“Then what do you suggest I do? Emotions aren’t exactly my forte.”

“Talk to ‘em. That’s all. Nothin’ else.” Wilford looked sympathetic, which was a miracle in itself. “An’ ya forgot ta order yer lunch, so chop chop!”

-

After the little confrontation with Wilford, going to the counter was surprisingly more daunting than usual.

The moment Dark was spotted, the older lady who had been making sandwiches told you that she was going to the bathroom and needed you to cover her spot. As you moved to the counter, you missed the knowing smile she threw to a rather nervous Dark. Of course, you didn’t see the nerves in the entity posture. What you did see was this mysterious figure, impeccably dressed as always, giving you a ‘look’ you couldn’t distinguish. You two seemed to get along when chatting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he hated you. As much as it stressed you out, you bottled your feelings and focused on taking his order.

“I apologise. My friend informed me I neglected to order any food. Would I be able to get -” You interrupted him by rattling off his usual order with a slightly mischievous tone. He looked taken aback, and you wondered if you crossed a line, only for his expression to soften to reveal a faint hint of a smile. “Am I really that predictable?”

So far, so good.

You smiled as you started making the order. It was one of the popular ones on the menu, but with one minor tweak. You always made sure to add a little extra of that. He never complained, so you assumed it wasn’t a problem. As usual, you asked how work was, what he and the other man were doing here. 

“It is both work and a break,” Dark explained, throwing a glance over his shoulder. Wilford’s face lit up and he gave two thumbs up once he noticed Dark looking in his direction. “Apparently, I looked like someone who hadn’t taken a break in ‘four days’.” When you stalled your work to ask if that was the case, Dark shook his head with a chuckle. “No, I simply look tired all the time. A common misconception.” You couldn’t help but notice that he did look exhausted. You had always assumed it was the stress of the job, but maybe he had sleeping problems, or a lack of a social outlet? That can be exhausting when your life revolves around work. Luckily, before you could dwell on it too long, you had to put the sandwich into the oven to heat it up. “But, if you forgive me for asking, how have you been?”

A simple diversion is enough for you to talk a little about your own world once you walk to the till to charge him for this order. You couldn’t help but notice how intently he focused on you. His expression shifted in reaction to some points you made. Neither of you seemed to notice how no new customers had arrived in the entire time this conversation took place. Instead, the conversation flowed naturally between you both. In fact, the only true interruption was the faint ‘beep’ of the oven timer. 

You arrange the sandwich on the dish, with a side of chips and salad. There was a hesitation, a near reluctance to finish the job. It was only Dark calling your name that snapped you back to the moment.

“Is everything alright?” His face seemed neutral, but you would swear there was a trace of worry in his voice. You didn’t answer at first, opting to key in the bill and get the money. However, when you handed the receipt and change, you slipped a small note in as well. You had hoped everything would be pocketed to discover later, but Dark had noticed the addition immediately.

“I think you gave me -” He froze as he read what was written on it:

-

Dark,

I know we only know each other through my work. If you’re free, I’d like to buy you a coffee. But not in my work. That would be embarrassing. Anyway here’s my number.

-

He was silent for several moments, and it was enough time to contemplate how best to sink into the floor and disappear forever, but his voice broke the silence.

“You… want to have coffee… With me?” Dark almost seemed confused. You nodded. “As… Friends?” A question you had hoped wouldn’t be asked, but you had to address it. With a resigned sigh, you shake your head and admit that you would rather it be a date. Before you could decide what to do, you heard a sigh of relief.

“I was sure you didn’t care for someone like me.” What a confusing statement for the entity to say, and you express that. “No, you don’t understand. I’m used to being - how would you say - disliked. The man I entered with today…” He trailed off as he noticed Wilford had disappeared. Typical. “Well, he’s the only person I’ve considered a friend, until I met you. Given my personal record I didn’t want to run the risk of losing someone I considered a friend, let alone… Someone I’m romantically interested in.” Now it was your turn to let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He had an expression unlike anything you had seen - a bright smile. It made your heart flutter, and you almost missed Dark reach forward to take a pen. In moments, the receipt was handed back to you, with a number written in pen at the bottom.

“I should be finished around five. Mayhaps we could try and arrange something?”

“Hey, Dark! C’mon! I can’t keep these people out here all day!” Without a chance to say goodbye, Dark was dragged out by a grinning Wilford. 

A moment later, Wilford popped back into the deli and lifted Dark’s plate with a wink.

“He still needs that lunch. Toodles, an’ I told ya it’d work out okay~” A blink, and Wilford was gone.

[unpack-my-heart]

Above, Beneath, Betwixt, Between (formerly ‘The Ghost of You’) – Updated

@tinyarmedtrex @violetreddie @xandertheundead @constantreaderfool @eds-trashmouth @mrs-vh

PSA: I changed the name of this fic. It was once ‘The Ghost of You’ but I don’t think that fit the story anymore, so I changed it. Hope that isn’t too confusing!

Chapter 4 - Nothing Ever Becomes Real Until It Is Experienced

Read on AO3 HERE

A stream of lava-hot water hit Richie’s back, waging a brutal war against the knotted muscles of his back.

“SHE’S ALL I NEED ALL OF MY LIFE!”

He rubbed the bar of ivory coloured soap between his hands, before rubbing the soapy lather over his chest.

“I FEEL SO GOOOOD IF I JUST SAY THE WOOOOOORD”

Turning around, Richie closed his eyes against the torrent of water, letting it rush over his face and chest, the soapy suds disappearing down the drain.

“ SUH-SUH-SUSSUDIO”

Richie opened his eyes, mouth still half open from where he’d been singing, and, as if he had always been there, Eddie’s disembodied head looked back at him from where it was sticking directly through the shower curtain.

“Richie! The lambs have come back down off the hills and – oh good lord, you’re naked!”

“JESUS FUCK!”

A primal scream tore its way out of Richie’s throat as he unceremoniously tumbled to the floor of the shower, clasping helplessly at the shower curtain as he fell. The curtain ripped from its fastenings, and floated to the ground gently. Richie grabbed at it, yanking it towards him to cover what was left of his modesty.

“What the fuck, Eddie!”

Eddie was standing in the bathroom, looking scandalized but also very mildly amused.

“I’m ever so sorry, Richie!”

“The door was locked, how the hell did you even get in here?!” Richie demanded, feeling his face bloom with blush, caused not only by the scalding temperature of the water.

“I – I didn’t use the door”

Richie blinked, incredulous.

“You didn’t use the door” he deadpanned, raising his eyebrows, an invitation. ‘Explain yourself’.

“I haven’t used a door in seventy years, and I don’t intend on starting now!”

For a moment, neither of them speak. Eddie has his arms crossed in what Richie imagines is supposed to be indignation, a silent ‘I’ve been here longer than you, this is more my house than it ever will be yours.” Richie can’t help but feel a pang in his chest, something so close to affection it’s uncanny, a cloying kind of feeling that envelops his heart and holds it hostage.

Eddie breaks first.

“It really was an accident, Richie, I sort of forgot – I forgot about …” he trails off before he can say it, but Richie knows.

I forgot what it’s like to be alive. What it’s like to spend time with another person.

Richie’s annoyance melts like snow.

– X –

The house is almost finished. Nearly all of the major appliances have been installed, the water runs perfectly, and the electrics have been wired and approved. The only major task facing Richie now was decorating, which was unfortunate because Richie had been cursed with perpetually shaky hands meaning that his lines were never straight or clean enough. He’d been complaining about it to Eddie one evening, sat out on the porch, wind rustling Richie’s hair like autumn leaves, but leaving Eddie’s untouched, each hair frozen in time and space.

Richie had fallen asleep outside, a combination of the lake’s lullaby-ripples, and the warmth of the balmy night. He’d slept deeply, watched over by the moon and the stars, and woken up with a crick in his neck and freezing hands.

Eddie was no-where to be seen, but Richie was unbothered. Eddie made a habit of wandering the moors at night, unbound by the mortal need to sleep, dream and recharge. He was free to roam as he saw fit, truly a being of the night, drifting amongst the dreaming lambs and the trees that stretched humbly towards the moon. He always returned, though. Returned to the house that he’d died in, and, by association, to Richie.

Richie hauled his heavy bones into the house, and up the rickety stair case, desperate to change out of the stale smelling clothes from the night before. He could hear the clanging of something metallic, and Eddie’s high and bright whistling, like a bell beckoning Richie into the room. When Richie cautiously pushed the door open, his mouth opened in shock.

While he slept, the summer sky had materialised on his bedroom walls. Fluffy marshmallow clouds on a cornflower blue sky.

Eddie was standing in the corner of the room, paintbrush in hand, looking somewhat guilty.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up yet. You don’t normally wake up before 7 or so”

“Eddie what the hellllll” Richie drawled, eyes scanning the room in astonishment.

“Do you like it?” Eddie asked, eyes and voice earnest and so sugary sweet Richie couldn’t take it.

“I so wish I could hug you right now, this is fuckin’ torture, s’what it is. This is beautiful, Eds. It’s – I don’t have the words”

“Heh. The oven mitts are downstairs, so, I suppose … I’m glad you like it, though. I was worried you’d hate it and think that I’d over-stepped, or something”

“No! Not at all. It’s … thank you, Eddie. Seriously, thank you. This might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me”

“I know you hate painting and I used to paint a bit, when I was, y’know, so … I thought I’d help you out a bit”

“You’ve done more than just help me out, Eds, yowza!”

Richie sincerely wished Eddie was wearing those damn oven gloves, as he wanted nothing more than to squeeze his hand and never let go.

– X –

The kitchen hated Richie, and, by all accounts, the feeling was pretty mutual. Laying a new floor down had been an absolute nightmare, considering the fact that the room was bizarrely shaped, so Richie had had to painstakingly cut each piece of timber out with a circle-saw to the exact measurements. This had taken longer than Richie cared to admit, but he had eventually finished, and the glossy oak floorboards smiled up at him, thanking him for his time and effort. Painting the kitchen was a breeze in comparison, throwing a white emulsion onto the walls before covering it with a blueish-grey, light and bright enough for a kitchen, but not an emotionless white. The back wall was the only one that was still just white emulsion, and Richie had planned to paint it grey in the afternoon.

That had been his plan, before he heard an almighty crash echo throughout the house, a metallic clang, and then a horrified yell.

“Eddie?! Eddie, are you okay?” Richie shouted, running down the stairs at light speed, expecting to find Eddie contorted in pain, or gone from the house entirely, or a number of equally as horrifying possibilities.

What he found when he rounded the corner, and burst into the kitchen, was blueish-grey paint covering practically every surface in the kitchen, and a very forlorn looking Eddie staring at the mess.

“What – What happened in here?!”

Eddie looked up at Richie with pleading, guilty eyes, wringing his hands together.

“I… I tried to walk through the wall carrying the paint and … Well, I suppose paint cannot travel through walls”

“What have I told you about using the effing doors!” Richie bellowed, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder to the door that he had just sprinted through.

His new floor, his expensive oak floorboards that he had laboured over for weeks, ruined. The oven had thankfully not been installed yet, and sat in its protective plastic packaging, but even that was splattered with paint. The clock was covered in paint. The gas stove that Richie had been using to cook was covered in paint. In short, everything was covered in a sheen of grey paint.

“I was trying to help,” Eddie mumbled, mouse-small, “You said you loved your new bedroom walls and I thought – I thought I’d save you some work because I know how much you hate painting and – I am a catastrophe”

Richie felt awful.

“Naw, Eds, you’re not. C’mon, it’s not that bad. I can get some white spirit on the floor, that’ll probably lift most of it, and maybe Mike will let me borrow his electric sander. Hey now, Eds, c’mon, you look like you’re going to cry, you’re killing me”

“I would cry if I could”

“Can you cry?”

“No, because if I could, I would be doing so now”

Richie opened one of the now grey kitchen drawers, and pulled out Eddie’s oven mitts. He passed them over to Eddie, who reluctantly slipped them onto his hands, the scrunch of concentration that Richie had grown so fond of etched onto his face.

“I’m gonna hold your hand now,” Richie announced, before taking Eddie’s hand in his, “I promise that I’m not mad with you. I’m just – I’m just a bit frustrated but it’s not the end of the world. Kitchens come and go but Eddie Spaghetti’s are forever”

“Is that a joke … because I am dead?” Eddie asked, voice hesitant but Richie watched as a smile formed on his face, slowly, like a flower opening to pray to the sun.  

“It wasn’t ‘sposed to be” Richie shrugged, hand still gripping onto Eddie’s mitted-hand tightly.

“Are you sure you’re not mad with me?”

“I promise”

– X –

One thing that Richie soon came to learn was that Eddie loved music. Richie often heard Eddie’s ethereal whistling echoing around the house, or heard him humming little ditty’s that Richie didn’t recognise. Sometimes Eddie sang properly, a surprisingly rich and strong tenor that stirred things in Richie’s heart that had been dormant for years.

One day, when Richie was sanding the grey paint off the floorboards in the kitchen and singing along to Higher Ground by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Eddie’s voice announced his presence before Richie was even aware of him being in the room, a habit of Eddie’s that he was growing slowly used to.

“This music sounds so different to the kind of things I used to listen to when I was younger”

Richie turned off the electric sander, before turning the radio up, Anthony Kiedis’ voice booming out of the speaker. Eddie looked vaguely alarmed, before tapping the toe of his boot slightly, face screwed in concentration, as if he was sampling the music like wine, trying to decide whether he liked the taste of the beat or not. Richie hopped around on alternate feet, pretending to slap an imaginary bass, his face screwed up in his best approximation of ‘bass face’. He wasn’t sure that Eddie would know what bass face was, but he didn’t care. Eddie watched Richie with wide, half-confused half-amused eyes, the toe of his left boot still tap-tap-tapping away to the beat.

The song drew to a close soon after, and Richie bounced over to the radio and turned it off.

“So, d’ya like it?”

“It’s … interesting. It’s different, absolutely, but … it’s good. It’s got a good beat, I like the rhythm. I … rather liked his voice,” Eddie stuttered, and Richie was sure that if it were possible for Eddie’s face to flush with embarrassment, it would be doing so right now, “but one thing I don’t understand is where you put the records in that tiny machine? Are records really tiny now?”

“Records? Why would there be records?” Richie asked as confusion washed over him in waves, before realising that Eddie had no idea what a twenty-first century radio looked like.

“Oh, no, this is a radio, not a record player. Some people still use records, but those people are called ‘hipsters’ and you wouldn’t like them. But this is a radio, you know what a radio is, right?”

“Yes, Richard, I know what a radio is. I wasn’t born 700 years ago” Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Jus’ checkin’, jus’ checkin’. So you know how radios work, right? Like … the music is in the air? Radio waves and all that jazz?”

“The music is in the air?!” Eddie spluttered, eyes wide like dinner plates.

“I thought you said you knew what radios were?!”

“Well, I know what they are, I never professed to know how they work”

Richie can’t help but laugh at the expression on Eddie’s face, a picture of exasperation mixed with confusion, and he is semi-horrified by the realisation that he wants to kiss it off Eddie’s face.

Well that’s new.

Richie tries to squash all ghost-kissing desires deep into his brain into a box marked ‘bad idea’ but he knows that that box has a habit of refusing to remain closed and springing open unexpectedly.

In his desperation to sway his attention from Eddie’s grumpy, kissable face, Richie cranks the radio up even further, switching the station to the all-day 80s bangers station he’d found a few weeks ago. Bonnie Tyler’s voice filtered out of the speakers, and Richie lip-synced along with her as she lamented about the fact that she didn’t have a street-wise Hercules. Eddie watched as if transfixed, eyes following the minutia of Richie’s movements but standing on the side lines, not joining in Richie’s one-man dance party.

“Dance with me!” Richie yelled, waving his arms erratically in the air as Bonnie’s voice howled around the room.

“I can’t!”

“You can!”

“I can’t!”

“YOU CAN!” Richie practically screamed, “dance with me, Eds! Please!”

Richie’s pestering finally broke Eddie’s resolve, and just as the song peaked, Eddie started to dance.

Now it was Richie’s turn to gawp.

Eddie threw himself around the room wildly, feet a blur as he alternated between rhythmic walking, jumping and kicking his feet , whilst waving his arms in a jaunty swing, occasionally snapping his fingers or clapping his hands in time with the music.

“You’ve been holding out on me, you sneak! Look at you go!” Richie yelled over the music, hardly moving, just watching Eddie spin and twist and jump.

“I may or may not have been quite the accomplished swing dancer when I was … y’know …” Eddie gasped, mid spin.

“I fuckin’ bet you were! Look at your fancy feet!”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Eddie laughed, performing a particularly complicated piece of footwork, and peeking up at Richie with his tongue caught between his teeth.

“Damn straight, look at us, a couple-a movers and shakers, but damn, Eds, you shake it the best. You gotta teach me.”

Eddie laughed as he span past Richie, and Richie followed him, shimmying his shoulders and shaking his hips in a way that he assumed looked ridiculous, but the way Eddie’s eyes lingered on the swivel of his hips suggested otherwise.

The song finished, and a slow ballad started to play – all slow, smooth guitar and mellow vocals.

Richie, gasping from exertion, stopped dancing, and so did Eddie, who looked exactly the same as he always did, not a hair or piece of fluff out of place.

“How do we dance to this one? It’s a bit slow, Rich”

An idea crashed into Richie’s brain at warp speeds.

“Hang on”

Richie disappeared downstairs, and returned clasping Eddie’s oven mitts in his hands.

“Put these on” Richie instructed Eddie, like he always did, and once Eddie had put the mitts on, he grabbed his hands and placed them on his shoulders.

“We gotta slow dance to songs like this, them’s the rules”

“Uh … but we’re both … you aren’t a … I’m not a woman”

“I won’t tell if you won’t”

Eddie didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t move his hands, either. Knowing that he couldn’t put his hands on Eddie’s waist like he wanted to, Richie settled for placing his hands over Eddie’s mitts, on his shoulders. They swayed back and forth.

“Are you like me?” Eddie whispered, voice barely loud enough for Richie to hear over the music.

“Depends what you mean by that, Spaghetti. Am I dead? No. Am I a wicked dancer? Yes. You gotta be more specific”

“You are a brute! You know exactly what I mean”

“Do you mean ‘do I fall in love with men’?”

Eddie hesitated for a second, before nodding the affirmative.

“Then yes, I am like you. But I also fall in love with women. I like ‘em both. Greedy like that”

“Is that … is that possible?”

“Sure is, sugar!”

Eddie closed his eyes, and Richie was sure that if Eddie could cry, this would be another occasion where he would be doing so.

“I only … I only fall in love with men. I had – Rupert. We – he died. I never got to say goodbye”

A heavy sort of sadness settled in the room. Eddie’s eyes, downcast and lidded, refused to meet Richie’s. They stood in the middle of the room, touching but not really, dancing but not really, in silence.

“I hate that I can’t hold you, Eddie”

“I hate that you can’t hold me, too”

– X –

Something changed after they danced together. Not a seismic shift, but a small tremor. Eddie told Richie about Rupert, and how they’d lived together in relative sin, and as he spoke, he’d screwed up his face as if willing himself to cry, to feel something. Richie cried enough for the both of them.

A few days later, it was a lazy Sunday, and Richie is listening to a local Scottish radio station sat out on the porch with Eddie in a comfortable silence.

“I don’t know what everyone else’s plans are for the afternoon, but I’m off to have a lovely roast dinner!” the radio host announces, before signing off for the day.

“Oh, I do miss a roast dinner” Eddie announces wistfully, rubbing at his stomach comically.

“What’s a roast dinner?”

“You’ve never had a roast dinner?!”

“Uh… no? Should I have? What is it?”

Eddie abruptly stands up, and walks back into the house, listing off all the components of a roast dinner as he walks. When they get to the kitchen, Eddie marches straight over to the fridge and, without opening it, sticks his head right through the door, before also sticking his left hand straight through the metal, as if the fridge was not a solid object at all. Richie is sure that there will never be a day that he doesn’t find that unbelievably funny.

“You have all the vegetables, but the only meat you have is … this!” Eddie pulls his head back through the fridge door, looking at his hand triumphantly, only to find that his hand is empty.

“I keep forgetting I cannot move things through other solid objects” Eddie deadpans, smacking his forehead in embarrassment.

Richie cackles at him, before moving to open the fridge himself, and seeing a lonely looking peperami lying on the bottom of the fridge. With Eddie’s help, Richie manages to cook the roast dinner without too much issue. The only time Eddie screeches at him is when he pours way too much oil into the roasting pan for the potatoes, but that issue is quickly rectified. After a few hours, the meal is prepared, and Richie plates up feeling overwhelmingly guilty that Eddie can’t share in the meal that he helped to prepare. Eddie assures him that he doesn’t miss eating that much, and ushers Richie into the dining room, where the new dining table stands proudly in the middle of the room. Richie places his plate on the table, before realising that he’d forgotten cutlery and a glass of water. Eddie, who had been standing behind his chair, follows him into the kitchen, walking straight through the table, and babbling nonsense about how Richie was about to experience something truly magical.

When Richie returned to the dining table, he found that his food was now burnt beyond recognition, the fresh vegetables that had been lying on his plate mere seconds ago now transformed into a smoky black sludge.

“What in God’s name …” Richie muttered, staring at the burnt food in disbelief as the cutlery slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a thud.

Richie looks at Eddie, then back to the ruined food on his plate, then back to Eddie. Without saying anything, he ran back into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of broccoli, before charging back into the living room and throwing the broccoli directly at Eddie’s head.

The broccoli fell to the floor.

Or, more accurately, the broccoli that was now a black, burnt sludge fell to the floor.

“For fucks sake!”

– X –

Richie stays up late that night, sleepy eyes glued to his computer, scrolling through useless website after useless website before he lands on the first thing that looks even remotely promising 16 pages into the google search.

Stanley Uris – Corporeal Reanimator

[captainkippen]

SEND ME FIC PROMPTS

This ficlet is rated TEEN AND UP.

3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

12. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

22. A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

By Cyrus’ seventeenth birthday, he and TJ have already been dating for several months. They haven’t told anybody yet, preferring to keep it to themselves than be the subject of gossip in the school hallways for the moment, but Cyrus suspects their friends have figured out something is going on by now. Buffy keeps shooting him knowing glances whenever he makes a shoddy excuse not to hang out with them because he already has a date planned with TJ. Even Jonah’s given them a few raised eyebrows in the past few weeks and he’s the most oblivious of everyone. Cyrus would feel bad about keeping it a secret, but his friends are notorious gossips and he’s pretty sure they’ll understand when he finally comes clean. He’ll tell them soon; he’s just not ready for it to be public knowledge quite yet.

...In hindsight, he probably should’ve known better than to think he and TJ could successfully sneak around without anybody realising. The secrecy all comes crashing down around them the night of his birthday party.

It’s a big one. His parents have gone all out as usual, but this time they’ve decided to let up on their strictness a little by leaving to do their own thing. Cyrus is grateful, even if it had taken several weeks of reassuring them that he and his friends didn’t need chaperones. TJ had helped convince them, he has a way with Cyrus’ parents that Cyrus is envious of, by pointing out that high school parties are ‘good for social growth’ and ‘a rite of passage’. It had been amazing to hear them agree and watching them drive away at the beginning of the night had been even sweeter. By eleven thirty the party is in full swing. The music’s turned up so loud Cyrus can barely hear himself think and somebody (he suspects it’s Amber was older brother) had shown up with a couple of kegs and a ton of drinks the second his parents’ car had disappeared from view. The living room is filled with people laughing, dancing and screaming along to whatever comes on the stereo. The basement has a sweet set up of various drinking games and every so often from upstairs it was possible to hearing loud cheers come from below. Buffy and Andi had helped Cyrus decorate earlier in the night, and they’d filled the house with light up balloons, fairy lights and glowsticks. The main lights are dimmed and it gives the whole place an almost ethereal atmosphere. Cyrus feels like he’s entered another world. It’s incredible.

He’s wandering around sort of aimlessly, attention being grabbed by a different group every five minutes or so and generally playing host when TJ appears out of nowhere and grabs his hand. There’s a mischievous smile on his face as he pulls Cyrus upstairs, past a variety of drunkenly oblivious people, until they’re safely hidden away in his ensuite bathroom. The noise of the party is muffled in here and the brightness of the lights is a harsh contrast to the rest of the house giving it the feeling of a liminal space where time is a construct and nothing is real. Cyrus says as much and TJ laughs, reeling him in gently by the collar.

“You know I haven’t had a chance to give you your birthday present yet,” he says.

“You gave it to me earlier,” Cyrus replies, bemused. “The photo album? Which is really sweet by the way. I love it.”

“That was only the first part.” There’s a flirtatious twinkle in TJ’s eyes and Cyrus gets it all of a sudden. He grins back.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” TJ murmurs.

“Kiss me,” Cyrus demands, feeling quite breathless all of a sudden. TJ does as he’s told.

The kiss is something devastating. That’s often the case when kissing his boyfriend, Cyrus has found, but this one is particularly rapturous. Cyrus winds his arms around TJ’s neck and pulls him in closer. He can feel the warmth radiating and he shudders as TJ’s hands move slowly down his waist and slip up under the hem of his shirt, cool fingers tracing his hipbones delicately. One of them, Cyrus isn’t even sure who at this point, lets out a soft moan as the kiss deepens. He can feel the heat rising and TJ’s hands pressed against his bare skin are starting to drive him a little crazy. This feels like so much more than usual like they’re going to…

BANG!

The door flies open. They don’t even have time to jump apart. Cyrus and TJ are just sort of left stood there, frozen in shock, still tangled around one another as they stare at an equally stunned Marty and Jonah in the doorway. It’s probably just a moment, but it feels like nobody moves for a century. Then, Jonah coughs slightly to clear his throat and drags his eyes away from where they’d been wide and focused on TJ’s hands and forces himself to look at their faces. Marty is bright red and looking at the ceiling.

“We were calling you,” Jonah says weakly, pointing to back at the bedroom with his thumb. “We didn’t realise you were… uh, busy?”

Cyrus lets go of TJ and they step back from one another awkwardly. He straightens his shirt, but if TJ’s dishevelled appearance is anything to go by, it’s probably a lost cause.

“We… didn’t hear you,” Cyrus laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. “The music’s kinda loud.”

“It’s cool…” Jonah says. Cyrus isn’t sure if he’s referring to them not responding to him and Marty or the kissing he just witnessed, but at this point, he’ll take either. “Uh, it’s just… Andi and Buffy did this whole big cake for you. It’s ‘sposed to be a surprise… it’s downstairs.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t just tell me, then.”

“Great.”

They all stand there in a mildly uncomfortable silence for a few more seconds before Marty finally seems to get his voice back.

“Shall we… go back downstairs?” He suggests. “Give you guys a minute?”

TJ sighs gratefully. “That’d be great.”

Jonah and Marty hurry out of the room, closing the door behind them. Cyrus and TJ look at one another. A bubble of hysterical laughter wells up inside Cyrus, and TJ’s clearly experiencing the same thing because one moment they’re calm and the next they’re both absolutely losing it. Cyrus leans against him to stay upright and TJ puts one hand on the wall as they both howl with laughter. They don’t stop until they’re gasping for air.

It takes Jonah and Marty a few days to recover. By then the whole group knows, but Cyrus finds he doesn’t mind much. It turns out his suspicions had been right - the others had had bets on when he and TJ would get the courage up to tell them they were together. A few years down the line, Jonah and Marty’s interruption becomes one of Cyrus’ favourite moments to recount at parties. He never misses an opportunity to tease them both about remembering to knock and they tease right back.

[sandlerresearch]

Microgrid Market by Connectivity (Grid Connected and Off-Grid Connected), Offering (Hardware and Software & Services), End-Use (Commercial & Industrial, Remote, Instituites & Campuses), Grid Type, Pattern, Region - Global Forecast to 2025 published on

https://www.sandlerresearch.org/microgrid-market-by-connectivity-grid-connected-and-off-grid-connected-offering-hardware-and-software-services-end-use-commercial-industrial-remote-instituites-campuses-grid-type-pat.html

Microgrid Market by Connectivity (Grid Connected and Off-Grid Connected), Offering (Hardware and Software & Services), End-Use (Commercial & Industrial, Remote, Instituites & Campuses), Grid Type, Pattern, Region - Global Forecast to 2025

“Microgrid market to grow at CAGR of 10.6% from 2020 to 2025”

The global microgrid market size is projected to reach USD 47.4 billion by 2025 from USD 28.6 billion in 2020, at a CAGR of 10.6%. Major drivers for the market’s growth are rising demand for clean energy, increasing instances of cyber attacks on the energy infrastructures, growing requirement for reliable and secure global power supply, and rising global deployment of microgrids for rural electrification.

Further, the expansion of renewable energy capacity of countries of APAC and government initiatives to encourage the development of microgrids are the opportunities for microgrid developers. The major restraint for the market is high installation costs. Technical issues faced during the operation of island mode microgrids and lack of regulatory frameworks related to operations of microgrid spose a significant challenge to this market.

Grid-connected connectivity to hold the largest share of the microgrid industry during the forecast period

The grid-connected segment accounted for a larger share of the microgrid market in 2019. The growth of this segment can be attributed to the expansion of utility-based grid networks, coupled with the large-scale use of renewable sources of energy such as offshore wind.

Grid-connected microgrids offer grid resiliency &improved quality power and have a low impact on the environment. They comprise multiple generators, distribution systems, and sophisticated controls and rely on main power grids for power balance and energy backup.

Among all end-use, remote to hold the largest share of the microgrid market from 2020 to 2025

The growth of this segment of the market can be attributed to the increased adoption of microgrids in remote areas. According to the International Energy Association, approximately 1 billion people in remote areas around the world lack access to electricity owing to the high costs of fossil fuels used for electricity generation and uncertainty in terms of their availability and issues related to their transportation. Governments of different countries are increasingly investing in the development of electricity infrastructures to provide low-cost and clean electricity. This results in increased demand for microgrids in remote areas. Microgrids are established in remote areas to generate power, as well as to manage and control distributed energy resources.

Americas to hold the largest share of the global microgrid market during the forecast period

The Americas accounted for the largest share of the microgrid industry in 2019. GE, Honeywell, S&C Electric, and Power Analytics are a few key players based in the Americas that mainly contributed to the growth of the microgrid market in the region. The microgrid industry in the Americas has been studied for North America and South America. The Americas is considered as one of the technologically-advanced regions for microgrids owing to the presence of a large number of developers of microgrids, along with several initiatives such as Smart Power Infrastructure Demonstration for Energy Reliability and Security (SPIDERS) program undertaken by governments of different countries of the region to promote adoption of microgrids.

Breakdown of primary participants’ profile:

By Company Type: Tier 1 = 50%, Tier 2 = 30%, and Tier 3 = 20%

By Designation: C-Level Executives = 35%, Directors = 30%, and Others = 35%

By Region: Americas= 40%, Europe = 25%, APAC = 20%, and RoW = 15%

ABB (ABB, Switzerland), General Electric Company (GE, US), Siemens AG (Siemens, Germany), Eaton Corporation Inc. (Eaton, Ireland), Schneider Electric SE (Schneider Electric, France), Honeywell International Inc. (Honeywell, US), HOMER Energy LLC (Homer Energy, US), S&C Electric Company (S&C Electric, US), Power Analytics Corporation (Power Analytics, US), and Exelon Corporation (Exelon, US) are a few major players in the microgrid market.

Research Coverage:

Connectivity, offering, pattern, grid type, end-use, and geography are the segments covered in this report. The report gives a detailed view of the market across four main regions: the Americas, Europe, APAC, and RoW.

Reasons to Buy the Report:

This report includes statistics pertaining to the microgrid market in terms of Connectivity, offering, pattern, grid type, end-use, and geography, along with their respective market sizes.

Major drivers, restraints, opportunities, and challenges for the microgrid market have been provided in detail in this report.

The report includes illustrative segmentation, analysis, and forecast for the microgrid market based on its segments and sub segments.

[neoraven]

What’s Joe Watching? Summer of 2017.

Here is a bunch of stuff that started airing from June through August and my brief thoughts. There is some miscellaneous stuff I might lump in another post- game shows, Twin Peaks, docs, sports- but this covers a lot of the scripted type things, new and returning. Without further ado,

6/11 - Claws (TNT) I watched a little bit of this, and despite the appeal of Dean Norris playing a sadistic pimp named "Uncle Daddy", it wasn't my cup of tea. A lot of people really enjoy it, though!

6/14 - Blood Drive (SyFy) This is a fun grindhouse/exploitation affair that I've been watching in spurts(pun intended) of 2 or 3 eps at a time.

6/20 - Wrecked s2 (TBS) Started this, still dug it, and decided to wait for the season to finish and watch the rest all at once. That's really my favorite way to do these great little TBS comedies.

6/22 - The Night Shift s4 (NBC) I'm not current on this, but I have been enjoying catching up on Netflix as a Grey's Anatomy alternative. It's a bizarro Texas version with different disasters and even less regard for medical and scientific norms.

6/23 - GLOW (Netflix) Binged it, loved it, delighted that it's renewed and there will be some more later. Made it into my top list of the first half of 2017 at the buzzer, so to speak.

6/29 - Zoo s3 (CBS) I love this really stupid and wild disaster. I'm still idly catching up on Netflix, but I'm just happy that it's still going.

6/30 - Gypsy (Netflix) Finally, a show Netflix found bad enough to immediately shitcan. I didn't watch it, and don't plan to, but it's a little refreshing to know that there are viewing numbers so low to get something pulled without delay.

7/5 - Snowfall (FX) Luke warm reviews and then I just kinda forgot about it. Might watch later. Still possible I binge watch this.

7/7 - Castlevania (NFX) Not a little. More than a few reviews claimed that it was an annoying prequel to what might be a fun series. Maybe I'll watch then!

7/8 - Tour de Pharmacy (HBO) This was completely fucking hilarious. If I had to rank them, it'd be just slightly below the earlier 7 Days Of Hell. And I'm on board for whatever they do next.

7/10 - Will (TNT) No! I do not need any more sexy William Shakespeare in my life.

7/12 - Suits s7 (USA) No chance in hell that I'll catch up, but I'm vaguely interested in this series and think I'd like it.

Salvation (CBS) I watched the pilot and set a DVR season pass. It looks like another goofy disaster like Zoo that I'll slowly watch when I have nothing better to do.

I'm Sorry (Tru) This seems quirky and funny and got solid reviews, but I just haven't checked it out yet.

7/14  - Friends From College (NFX) Nah. UPDATE: This got renewed somehow? I'm just a little bit intrigued, but probably not.

7/16 - Game of Thrones s7 (HBO) Tried, but no. UPDATE: watched episode 4 and I guess I'll watch the rest of it because of Dragon reasons.

The Strain s4 (FX) Not catching up. But Vampires are cool.

7/17 - Loaded (AMC) Not very interested in this, but it's at least a mildly interesting premise. And I'm interested in seeing AMC somewhat flail in their strategy post-Breaking Bad/Mad Men.

7/18 - Shooter s2 (USA) Slowly watching season 1. Might catch up to this at some point, but I'm not entirely digging it.

7/21 - Ozark (NFX) I only got a couple minutes into this. Very dreary monologue UPDATE: This got renewed, I will probably watch it.

7/23 - Ballers s3 (HBO) Not catching up. Entourage 2 just keeps on going though. I do think The Rock is a vastly more lovable executive producer and mild basis than fucking Mark Wahlberg.

Insecure s2 (HBO) Still wanna. The reviews are so great.

7/24 - Midnight Texas (NBC) Bad reviews turned me off.

Somewhere Between (ABC) Not super interested, but it's at least a good premise.

People of Earth s2 (TBS) Definitely on my to-watch list, whenever I finish season 1.

7/28 - The Last Tycoon (AMZ) Still waiting to get into this I guess sometime? I might never watch it.

Room 104 (HBO) Have access to this On Demand, will most likely watch sometime!

8/1 - Manhunt: Unabomber (Discovery) WHAT? It's a docu-drama type series covering, you guessed it, the Unabomber. WHO? Paul Bettany, Jane Lynch, and Sam Worthington WHY? Jane Lynch is playing Janet Reno. It seems like it's riding on The People vs OJ's coat tails, but I'm still a little interested.

I have all of this one DVRed, and will catch up on it sometime! Still pretty interested.

8/2 - The Sinner (USA) WHAT? Jessica Biel goes to the beach one day and stabs a stranger in the neck to death and is catatonic afterwards. Probably a foreign remake. WHO? Jessica Biel, and Bill Paxton tries to figure out why. WHY? It's just a really bizarre premise, and I'm probably just getting inundated with the ads and stockholm syndrome.

This has also been DVRed and I'm waiting to watch more of it all together instead of weekly. Also this is where I stopped doing all the super detailed previews of each show, sorry.

8/3 - The Guest Book (TBS) Have these recorded! I'm gonna watch. In some random order or time.

The Chris Gethard Show (TruTV) -Haven't checked it out, but I'm still mildly interested.

8/4 - Comrade Detective (Amazon) -Am definitely going to check this out at some point.

Voltron s3 (Netflix) -There's a lot to catch up to get here. But I have generally liked this show.

Wet Hot American Summer s2 (Netflix) I generally loved this and watched it extremely fast!

8/6 - Sharknado 5 (Syfy) -I missed the live tweet event, but there's always the chance I lose my remote or find myself in a desperate moment on Netflix and watch this anyways.

8/10 - SNL Weekend Update Summer Edition (NBC) -This had that godawful tonedeaf Tina Fey cake eating moment and well, that was enough for me.

8/12 - Ducktales (Disney XD) -Might see this at some point!

8/18 - Marvel's The Defenders (Netflix) -Binge watched just over half of it immediately. Will watch the exciting finale in due time.

8/19 - Halt and Catch Fire s4 (AMC) -I have too much of this to catch up and not enough time. I'm really psyched to get into this show/finish it at some point though!

8/20 - The Last Ship s4 (TNT) -Not gonna catch up on it, just mentioning it due to my love of Dr. Eric Sloan from Grey's Anatomy and this high concept premise.

Episodes s5 (Showtime) -I ditched Joey in Man With a Plan and Joey, BUT maybe I will like this? The premise seems interesting, and it isn't too long to catch up on. But I haven't even started yet.

Dice s2 (Showtime) -I have no desire to see anything that Andrew Dice Clay is selling, HOWEVER, I'm just impressed this show somehow garnered another season.

8/25 - Disjointed (Netflix) -I generally love weed, but this looks obnoxious. Not sure if I'm going to try it or not. Liking Kathy Bates and not liking Chuck Lorre stuff just balances out, I 'spose.

The Tick (Amazon) -Months back, I watched the pilot episode and was really cold on this. But, I am weak, and the commercials look generally engaging and are convincing me to give this another try soon.

[deeisace]

i’m gonna leave to watch the victorian sweets one til tomorrow cs it’s late now and i want to concentrate on it

seein as, what is it who was he, my great grandfather Woz’s grandfather, so my threes times great grandfather (my mum’s dad’s dad’s mum’s dad. yeah.), jack madge, who had a bakery in bideford high street from 1885, and it ran through til at least the late 1950s, because my grandad remembers eating strawberry jam scones on the curb outside and he was born in 1954 - tho of course it wouldn’t have been Jack then, it would have been whichever of his sons who wasn’t a mechanic (cs there was a madge mechanic in the 1960s, tho i mean praps they weren’t the only madges in the town any longer) and also my great great granma i know she was very involved (because there was some nonsense, cs grandad woz has a stutter, an people reckoned it wr cs she hadn’t time for him or something, her being in the bakery all the time, and that caused his stutter somehow), and i spose any of the family who could muck in (which is everyone - grandad Woz’s job when he was a kid, this’d be in the 1930s, before he was 10, was filling up the shou pastries with cream, if i remember)

it didn’t come a confectioner’s, he didn’t class himself confectioner, til his wife elizabeth’s welsh cousin (elizabeth was welsh too, they were from swansea way the both), her name was something like mary or sarah or something suchlike, who herself was a confectioner, and i reckon taught him better tho he probably knew a bit - because at that point the demand for white bread turns second to demand for sweets an cakes an such, in the 1890s, because sugar is better available i think, i forget but i’ll see again tomorrow - and she turns up on the 1901 census, tho i can’t be sure when properly cs those’re only done each ten years

and then, 1916, he’s an ad in the paper saying if you buy the fruit (from these shops, for x shillings an ounce or whathaveyou) he’ll make your christmas pudding proper (in his ‘new hygeinic machine’, which i have spelt wrong and can only assume is like one of those fancy mixer things, i guess, so you needn’t get your hands in quite as much)

also, i have just now found, because it is three in the morning and my best ridiculous research is done now, his little obituary from 1944 which is said of him “bideford has lost an old and much-respected tradesman ... in business in the town as a baker for about 58 years”

and also an ad he put out for “WANTED, a YOUTH about 17 or 18 to assist in the Bakehouse and deliver Bread” in july 1897 i would guess, then, that that was around the time the welsh confectioner turned up, and more hands are needed cs people are making extra sweet things than they usually might?

oh no actually, the welsh cousin, margaret jones, there see i knew it was one of those names, come 1901 census, listed ‘domestic servant’, to jack’s ‘baker’, then 1911, listed ‘assistant, baker + confectioner’ (whether that is, she is his assistant only or if she is such, whether that comma ought be ‘and’ or ‘to’), with jack as ‘baker (+ confectioner)’ now

so i’ve got all my other ramble possibly a Little wrong

tho ‘domestic servant’ could mean a bunch of things, and she wasn’t listed as a relative then in 1901, either

oh but she is on the 1891 census, age 17 listed as uhhh general servant (dom.)

well i just don’t know