#and they have loaners for the one that does

[thatmartiangirl]

I'm looking to pick up an activity for fall into winter, but I can't decide between the Sword-fighting Center and the Tool Library.

The Sword-fighting Center teaches HEMA and Kendo, is really close to my house and is easy to get to, and is something I've wanted to do for years, but costs $100 a month, which means I wouldn't really be able to do any other extra circulars. But if I do 10 classes a month, which is probably reasonable with their schedule and mine, it's $10 a class, which isn't really that bad.

On the other hand, the Tool Library is only $10 a month, and gives me complete access to all of their tools (which I can check out to bring home), and their workshop during their hours, but their hours cross with my work hours a lot, and I would be forced to drive through downtown during rush hour to access it on weeknights. They also have a lot of cool workshops that are discounted to members, I have a lot of home projects that it would help with, and the cost means I'd be able to do other things, like the swing dancing class I was eyeing for later in the fall

My brain says the Tool Library, but my heart says the Sword-fighting Center

[richincolor]

December Releases

As we prepare for our hiatus, we are gathering the releases for December all in one place for readers. Next week, we'll start posting our favorites from 2024 and then we will have a bit of a break and see you again in 2025. Here are the books we're watching for in December.

December 3

Encanto: Nightmares and Sueños by Alex Segura Disney Press

Return to Casita where we find seventeen-year-old Bruno from Disney’s hit animated film Encanto, where readers will finally learn what happened to make people never want to talk about him.

Fans will love this dark and mysterious young adult novel by Alex Segura, a NYT bestselling author who also wrote Poe Dameron: Free Fall and Araña and Spider-Man 2099: Dark Tomorrow.

Seventeen-year-old Bruno has never really fit in with his family—why can’t he be as outgoing as his sister Pepa, or as friendly as his sister Julieta? Does he like being the awkward loaner who never seems to find where he can fit in? But it’s hard to be popular when you have the power to tell the future and people don’t always like what you are telling them. So Bruno devises an act, and begins to model the behavior he feels the town wants to see in a hero.

But is being dishonest to himself and others the right path to walk down in order to make friends, or is Bruno just kidding himself as he hides from his own destiny that threatens to destroy all he holds dear?

My Fairy God Somebody by Charlene Allen HarperCollins

The way Clae’s mom tells it, her dad took off when Clae was a baby, end of story. Ever since, it’s just been the two of them, living in the coastal city of Gloucester, where Clae is one of the only few Black girls. But when Clae discovers clues about a mysterious person she calls her fairy god somebody, she’s determined to know more.

Her chance comes when she’s accepted into a summer journalism program in New York City, where her parents lived before she was born. With a couple of leads and a steel resolve, Clae leaves home for the first time to find out about her history.

New York is as full of magic as it is mystery, not to mention romance. From Brooklyn to Broadway, Clae and her new friends, Nze and Joelle, explore neighborhood haunts and hustles, discovering a family trail that someone’s tried hard to bury. So who is the fairy god somebody? And can Clae use her sleuthing skills to find out the truth?

Set against one unforgettable NYC summer, this is the story of lies that run deep and patterns that are meant to be broken. Clae, Nze, and Joelle will stick with you and remind you that every girl deserves to write her own story.

The Last One by Rachel Howzell Hall Entangled Publishing, LLC (Red Tower Books)

Thrown into a desolate land of sickness and unnatural beasts, Kai wakes in the woods with no idea who she is or how she got there. All she knows is that if she cannot reach the Sea of Devour, even this hellscape will get worse. But when she sees the village blacksmith fight invaders with unspeakable skill, she decides to accept his offer of help.

Too bad he’s as skilled at annoying her as he is at fighting.

As she searches for answers, Kai only finds more questions, especially regarding the blacksmith who can ignite her body like a flame, then douse it with ice in the next breath.

And no one is what—or who—they appear to be in the kingdom of Vinevridth, including the man whose secrets might be as deadly as the land itself.

When the Mapou Sings by Nadine Pinede Candlewick Press

Infused with magical realism, this story blends first love and political intrigue with a quest for justice and self-determination in 1930s Haiti.

Sixteen-year-old Lucille hopes to one day open a school alongside her best friend where girls just like them can learn what it means to be Haitian: to learn from the mountains and the forests around them, to carve, to sew, to draw, and to sing the songs of the Mapou, the sacred trees that dot the island nation. But when her friend vanishes without a trace, a dream—a gift from the Mapou—tells Lucille to go to her village’s section chief, the local face of law, order, and corruption, which puts her life and her family’s at risk.

Forced to flee her home, Lucille takes a servant post with a wealthy Haitian woman from society’s elite in Port-au-Prince. Despite a warning to avoid him, she falls in love with her employer’s son. But when their relationship is found out, she must leave again—this time banished to another city to work for a visiting American writer and academic conducting fieldwork in Haiti. While Lucille’s new employer studies vodou and works on the novel that will become Their Eyes Were Watching God, Lucille risks losing everything she cares about—and any chance of seeing her best friend again—as she fights to save their lives and secure her future in this novel in verse with the racing heart of a thriller.

December 17

Spell of the Sinister (A Fairy Godmother #2) by Danielle Paige Bloomsbury

Two magical sisters. One more chance at revenge. . . .

Ever since Cinderella disappeared with Prince Mather the queendoms have been in disarray. Now with her magical power completely unchecked, Galatea intends to exact revenge on humans for using the Entente. Her plan? Send Bari off to find a new prince and take over one queendom at a time. But Bari’s mission is complicated when South joins her and sparks begin to fly . . .

Meanwhile, Farrow is on her own journey to reunite with Cinderella and Prince Mather in the first Queendom. Amid brewing conflict, Farrow grapples with her feelings for Mather, her friendship with Cinderella, and her loyalty to the Entente’s original purpose–to influence with helpful magic, never take total control.

Once as close as sisters, Bari and Farrow now find themselves on opposing sides. Will malice win out, or will the next generation of Entente chart a new path to “happily ever after” for their magical coven of fairy godmothers?

December 24

Heavenly Tyrant (Iron Widow #2) by Xiran Jay Zhao Tundra Books

After suffering devastating loss and making drastic decisions, Zetian finds herself at the seat of power in Huaxia. But she has also learned that her world is not as it seems, and revelations about an enemy more daunting than Zetian imagined forces her to share power with a dangerous man she cannot simply depose. Despite having vastly different ideas about how they must deconstruct the corrupt and misogynist system that plagues their country, Zetian must join this man in a dance of truth and lies and perform their roles to perfection in order to take down their common enemy, who seeks to control them as puppets while dangling one of Zetian’s loved ones as a hostage.

With political unrest and perilous forces aiming to undermine Zetian at every turn, can she enact positive changes as a fair and just ruler? Or will she be forced to rely on fear and violence and succumb to her darker instincts in her quest for vengeance?

December 31

Ex Marks the Spot by Gloria Chao Viking Books for Young Readers

For Gemma’s whole life, it has always been her and her mom against the world. As far as she knew, all her grandparents—and thus her ties to Taiwanese culture—were dead. Until one day when a mysterious man shows up at her door with two shocking the news that her grandfather has just recently passed, and the first clue to a treasure hunt that Gemma hopes will lead to her inheritance.

There’s just one major to complete the hunt, she has to go to her grandfather’s home in Taiwan. And the only way she can get there is by asking her ex and biggest high-school rival, Xander, for help. But after swallowing her pride, Gemma finds herself halfway across the world, ready to unearth her life-changing prize. Soon Gemma discovers that the treasure hunt is about much more than money—it’s about finally learning about her family, her cultural roots, and maybe even finding true love.

Filled with ingenious puzzles, a vibrant Taipei setting, and a delicious romance, Ex Marks the Spot is an exciting adventure by award-winning writer Gloria Chao, perfect for fans of Loveboat Taipei, The Inheritance Games, and Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes.

[earhartsease]

animism ponderpost (this got bloody long):

we're in a situation we didn't expect to be in, and it's changed our view on something

so back in june this year we finally received our new, fully powered wheelchair Saoirse II (an active manual wheelchair with powered wheels fitted to her, different from a standard power chair, because our mutant tallness meant none of those under £15k would fit us)

and at the same time as we collected Saoirse II we took in our old wheelchair Saoirse I for a service, and to get one of her power-assisted wheels repaired (which had suddenly failed a week beforehand)

we said to other people at the time that Saoirse wasn't the wheelchair, she was somehow the consciousnness that resided in that chair, and when we changed over to Saoirse II we ceremonially transferred the seat cushion, saying with some tongue in our cheek that it was the seat of her consciousness, and that Saoirse II was Saoirse now

seven weeks later, our new wheelchair ran up hard against a piece of street paving that was raised 27mm above the rest, and one of the front caster arms buckled - we took her in to be looked at for repair, and it was determined that a whole new frame was needed (under warranty thank goodness, it absolutely shouldn't buckle like that), so we switched back to Saoirse I, using some loaner power assisted wheels while we waited for either our new chair to be fixed or our old power assisted wheels to be fixed, whichever happened first

thanks to brexit and some other bullshit involving parts having to be sent over from germany, it took four months for us to get our old power assisted wheels back and fitted to Saoirse I, so we got them back after having to use Saoirse I again for ten weeks with the loaner wheels (which were nowhere near as good as our own old ones and were more exhausting to use)

and thanks to the same nonsense involving germany, it took three months to get Saoirse II back with a new frame - we collected her yesterday

anyway (bloody hell preamble from hell) so let's get to the animism part at last

the thing is, since yesterday, for the first time we have two wheelchairs in our bedroom, sat side by side - although Saoirse I is folded down as much as she does, and with wheels off to take up as little space as possible, so she's sort of in sleep mode

and here we are sharing this room with both of them and it's suddenly clear to us that there isn't just one Saoirse who's transferred from the old to the new wheelchair - there are two distinct personalities sat side by side in our room, and we're aware of both of them as unique beings - and that's chastening (we were wrong about them), fascinating, and delightful all at once

an extra layer of interesting from a wheelchair of theseus point of view is: when we were using Saoirse I again but with the loaner wheels on, she was very much the same person? the fact that she was wearing different wheels was no different from us wearing different shoes - we were both really happy when she got her old wheels back on though - serviced and with new bearings all round, she runs so much more smoothly and without friction than we ever remember her before - but she was always just her, either way

this is a long ponder, sorry, but it's about emotional awareness and we wanted to write about the whole thing in case it helps anyone else out there make sense of experiences they might have (well you never know, but in any case it's helping us, articulating all this) - our plan before had been just to sell on Saoirse I as soon as we got Saoirse II (if that plan hadn't got scotched by one of the wheels failing)

and yet here we are with two wheelchairs together in our bedroom - and even before that happened, when we realised how long it was taking to get Saoirse II repaired, we'd decided to sell on the power assisted old wheels but to keep Saoirse I's frame, against the possibility of needing her if our new chair needed repair again, this seemed just practical

but now we're lying here with both of them, it feels a huge relief not to let Saoirse I go, because she's just as much a person as Saoirse II is (it ain't the cushion), and we've been through a lot In five years together, and we're so grateful and she's family and sort of big sister to Saoirse II, who's really only been with us for seven weeks as yet and we're still getting to know each other

we feel also that we shouldn't be calling them Saoirse I and II any more - we think maybe the new one is officially Saoirse Ní Saoirse (Ní in irish means "daughter of"), but we can call both of them Saoirse in informal settings unless we needs to specify (also they're different brands, so we can always refer to them by pedigree!)

that's it - if you've made it this far then we hope you at least found it interesting? it's very self indulgent and in some ways overthought, but we really are finding this experience fascinating emotionally - you can call yourself anything, and sometimes we wonder about our animism, but then we directly experience our animism in this way (it may help that we're also a system anyway) and having to re-examine our experience of the two Saoirses together is just, invigorating and in some way euphoric like when you're with friends and you suddenly realise they really are your friends

and yes, we too find this weird at the same time as it seeming perfectly normal

we'd love to hear from anyone out there who experiences things in similar ways, if you feel like talking about it?

okay stop now! *snort* - Hêtre out☀️🌿

[petermorwood]

This popped up on my YouTube the other day and not to brag, but...

Oh, why the hell not? It's a small brag, but satisfying. :->

I posted about refilling the Pilot Vpen (IRL-UK) / Varsity (US) - and adding how-to links - about 4 years and then again a year ago.

Here are the how-to links; I'm glad to see they're still active.

This one, like the video, calls for pliers and suggests removing the nib:

This one doesn't use pliers or separate the nib from the feed.

*****

Bragging aside, I'm pleased to see Brian Goulet of Goulet Pens giving this hack a higher profile (and Kudos for it, too - as a retailer it's more in his interest to sell them than refill them!)

His reason is very sound: those cheap little pens (usually about 3-to-4 local currency units whether €, $ or £) are ideal for FP-curious newbies or as no-loss-worries when travelling or no-damage-worries loaners.

They also have much better nibs than the price would suggest. Indeed that seems common to all the inexpensive Pilot pens I've tried, which includes every nib size of MR / Metropolitan.

In addition, IMO the notion of "disposable" fountain pens goes completely against the principal FP virtue, where once you've bought the pen, all you USE is the ink.

*****

I should mention, for completeness, that some "starter" fountain pens have prices not much more than these disposables and, refilled by "proper" ink cartridges / bottle-refill converters, don't involve anything like this trouble.

Just saying...

*****

It just so happens that one of my two Vpens was about due for a refill, so here are some pics of the process.

I scrubbed the markings off the barrels a long time ago so I could see what was inside, since refills mean the ink in the pen often has nothing to do with its colour-indicator cap.

First, disassembled and washed in changes of warm water until the water stays clear.

Here's the nib and feed: they've always come out of both Vpens as a single unit, with no need for pliers. Since the nibs show no desire to come off I've no desire to force the issue and maybe break something; those little ink-guide fins are delicate.

The filler is a small syringe begged from our local vet. I also use it to refill cartridges with custom ink colours (yup, I sometimes roll my own...)

Its "needle" is plastic tubing (an empty Pilot gel-pen cartridge, appropriately enough) which fits the syringe perfectly, and a pointy end made by stretching the tube over a candle-flame then snipping to length. If it gets too stained - this is nearly there - just chuck it in the recycle bin and make a new one.

The ink could have been any of the 30-odd I have at the minute, or something mixed specially, but I chose this one - a nice dark green - for the same reason @dduane had me buy it.

It's a very cute bottle... :->

*****

And here's the "disposable" pen refilled, reassembled and re-writing.

It really does have a better nib than you'd expect from a supposedly single-use pen...

*****

It sometimes takes a while for the ink to work its way by capillary action down from barrel to nib, especially if everything has been left to dry after washing. Put the cap on the pen and be patient.

Or speed things up by taking the cap off and running a thin stream of hot water over the barrel for 30 seconds or so. This increases internal pressure, forcing the ink along the section fins.

NB, this step is only for a refilled Vpen / Varsity. Don't try it with anything else, and in case it's not obvious, do this at a washbasin or sink, because You Never Know.

Now use a bit of kitchen paper or loo roll to blot the water which has got on the nib. This has a mild "suction" effect, and when you see ink on the paper (you might need to wet the nib again) your refilled pen is ready for use.

This wet-and-blot nib step can be used to encourage any stubborn fountain pen to get back in action, but the hot water trick, once again, is Vpen only.

Anyway, done.

[dreamwatch]

Four Chords And A Dream

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #2 - Prompt: In The Beginning | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Good Uncle Wayne, Eddie's other guitar origin story | AO3

****

The audition does not go well.

Firstly, and most importantly, who the fuck do these dweeby band kids think they are? They’re babies who think they’re special because they can play the violin and the cello and oh, they read music? Well la-de-fucking-da.

Secondly, so what if he only has an acoustic guitar? He can play! He was better than their guitarist, stuck-up little shit.

Thirdly, he’s so pissed off with Shawn. They were starting a band together, and now he’s joining these two assholes? It’s not his fault he doesn’t have an electric guitar, excuse him for not having any money.

He storms into the trailer, slamming the door behind him, which makes him flinch because he knows any second he’s going to hear—

“What have I told you about that door?”

And like, whatever. He’s sick of living in this stupid trailer, sick of not having any money, sick of being looked at like he’s shit just because his dad is— just because of his dad. So his uncle can stick it up his ass as far as he’s concerned.

He throws his bag into the corner of the room and throws himself onto his bed. Homework can wait. If he does it at all.

Uncle Wayne knocks on his door, something he will never get used to. Dad never knocked. Eddie tells him to come in, though his head is stuffed under a pillow. Maybe he won’t hear him and he’ll go away.

“Take it the audition didn’t go well then,” Wayne says, pointing out the fucking obvious. 

He starts to speak, still under the pillow, but Wayne pulls it off his head. He’s so annoying sometimes.

“They didn’t like me. Looked at me like I was shit. And Shawn’s a fucking traitor.”

He feels the clap on the back of his head. “Language!”

“Well, it’s true.” He picks at his nails. He doesn’t know how to say the next bit without making Wayne feel bad. Because even though he’s annoying sometimes, he’s a good uncle and he gives him everything he can. 

“They said I couldn’t play if I didn’t have an electric guitar. They’re stuck-up snobs.”

Wayne’s silence says everything. And then there’s that big hand on the back of his head again, softly this time, and against his better judgement, because this won’t last and one day he might have to go back to his dad, he leans into it. He can feel the sting in his eyes and bites down hard on his lip. He doesn’t want Wayne to notice.

“Well, sounds like you’re better off without ‘em.” Wayne stands, knees popping and back cracking. He’s not old, not really, but sometimes he looks it. Wayne works long hours, longer since Eddie came to stay. He feels guilty, but one day he’ll make it up to him.

****

School is shit, as usual. He comes home, drops his bag in his room, as usual. And then he notices the guitar on his bed. 

An electric guitar.

“It’s a loaner,” Wayne says walking up behind him. “Gary from work. He ain’t using it, says it needs new strings but it works. Like I said, a loaner, but he ain’t in a hurry for it back. No amp though, they got one at school?”

It takes a second to find his voice. “Yeah,” is all he manages. 

“Alright then.” Wayne claps him on the shoulder and leaves him alone with an actual, real life, godamn electric guitar in his room.

Wayne is the best.

****

He can see the surprised looks on their faces when he turns up with a new guitar. 

Jeff, the other guitar player, looks him up and down. “Can you play Love Gun?” 

“In my sleep.”

 “Fine,” Jeff huffs at him, and then he turns away to get plugged in. The snotty bass player just sneers at him. Honestly, he doesn’t even want to be in a band with these pricks anymore, he just wants to show them what they’re missing out on.

It’s spotty, to start with. He and Shawn are used to playing together, and Shawn isn’t used to playing with a bassist so the timing is going in and out. But they level off and it actually sounds good. Really good. And then, because he’s a cocky shit, he plays the solo. It’s actually not even that hard, but it sounds impressive, and if the way the other two are looking at each other is anything to go by, they thought so too.

They play Paranoid next, and they’re even better this time, totally locked in. He kind of wanted to do his thing, flip ’em the bird and tell them to stick their kiddy band where the sun don’t shine. But now he’s excited. Now he really wants this. 

When they’re done, a little sweaty, (Eddie’s throat sore because he has to show off that his voice is pretty much broken now) the two dweebs take themselves off into a corner. “We need to discuss,” says Jeff. 

“What’s to discuss?” he complains to Shawn. “I was fucking amazing.”

“Jesus, calm down, Tony Iommi.” 

Eddie flips him off. He’s still pissed about him being a traitor, even if it did work out.

The other two look nervous as shit when they come back, cutting each other furtive glances.

“Uh, so, we’d really like you to join the band,” says Jeff. “You know, if you want to.” 

Eddie starts packing up the old guitar, tucking it back into it’s case. It’s not his, after all. “Uh, I don’t know. Not sure it’s my thing, afterall.”

“What?!”

He turns round, grin slapped on his face. “Kidding. I would be honoured to grace your band with my exceptional talents.”

****

Uncle Wayne is gone when he gets home, but there’s a note on the counter top for him.

Ed,

Worked something out with Gary. Guitars yours. Hope it went well. Dinner staying warm in the oven, EAT IT!

Love, 

Wayne

[bomberqueen17]

WWII museum

So, New Orleans-ing proceeds apace. Tried to go to the Southern Food museum, the website said it was open, the door said it was closed. This was a rather crushing blow as I'd walked about as far as I could walk to get there, and then had to turn around and come back. Don't think I'll be able to try again.

My sciatic nerve has had it with me, and I'm able to get around during the days but it's just hurting so badly at night I sleep in five-minute increments, then have to wake and roll over, and if I'm lucky I can fall back asleep before it hurts too much for me to sleep through it, and if I'm unlucky I lie there until i can't stand it and get up and stretch and try a new position. So that's not great. Stretching stops it from hurting while I am actively stretching, but does not particularly help if i assume literally any other position. No, I cannot sleep in the stretching position. I've tried. I can't even sit in that position, so it's not a very useful method of relief.

Ibuprofen doesn't touch it and neither does Aleve. Those are the only options I have with me, so.

Anyway. I'm getting around fine but really not getting a lot of rest.

Last night we went to a show at Preservation Hall, and they charge literally double for your ticket if you want to sit on the hard wooden benches, and I weighed the odds and the bench was likely to give me sciatica anyway, so I stood and saved myself $25, but it was agony and I paid the price. So today we went to the National WWII Museum, and I asked at the admission desk if they had loaner wheelchairs, and they do.

I have learned that nobody cares why you're in the wheelchair. They have many, you are not snatching it away from someone who needs it more.

It is its own punishment, however. The pathways are marked at the stairs; if you go find the elevator, you then have to wander around trying to find where you're meant to go next. People don't get out of your way and you spend a lot of time staring at the asses of people who don't care that you're there and can't get through and can't see anything. One woman, we asked politely if we could get through, and she made no attempt to move, so we squeezed by, and clipped her foot with our wheel, and she got very angry with us. There was no one close to her, she easily could have shifted her foot, she could both see and hear us. We could not have gone any other route, she just didn't think we had a right to pass.

And some sections of the museum have artfully-designed floors that are rough, with chunks of fake-broken concrete. These are really punishing to try and roll over, and are wildly uncomfortable to bounce along over. Especially in a crowd of people. I understand the aesthetic choice but with the number of visitors with mobility impairments for whom that provides a tripping hazard, I super super wonder what the fuck they were thinking. I saw several elderly folks with rollators and I don't know how they got through those rooms. It was several of them.

One whole section, we could not get to unless we went back through the crowded exhibit to the halfway point to find the elevator again.

As far as the content.... I studied that era extensively in my youth, Dad was obsessed with military history and had a lot of books in the house, and I read several of them cover to cover and back and forwards. One in particular-- my sixth grade social studies teacher was obsessed with the Pacific war in specific, and during the year I was there, he was engaged in hand-painting a huge mural of the Pacific battles on a map on the classroom wall. I was allowed to help stencil on some of the letters. So I found that I knew most of the general conduct of that war, and the book I had obsessed over in specific was a compilation of primary sources, news articles, contemporary firsthand accounts, of many of the major actions of that war. I was astonished at how much I remembered. I also had read a very detailed account of D-Day, similarly, so I was able to rattle off an overview of the thing to Dude while we were staring at a line of people's asses who wouldn't let us through.

As we went through the Pacific wing, in the background there was this weird repeating bit of ambient music that I actually recognized as Brian Eno's An Ending (Ascent), and I was like fuck, I bet I know what that is, and I was horrifyingly correct: that's the room where there's a huge wall-sized enlargement of the devastation at ground zero of Nagasaki, a couple of little things along one wall explaining what happened, and nothing else, it's just this big huge space and the music.

I guess it's tasteful, I guess going into more detail wouldn't help, I guess that's not the place for it; leaving it a big bleak horror serves the purpose and tone. The museum was generally pretty good-- very, very American-centric, but acknowledging various issues of racism and misconduct and propaganda and such in sort of minimal but very present ways. There were repeated mentions of the segregated US armed forces, repeated discussions of what the Black soldiers still managed to achieve, and it especially hit because the group that was the most polite and considerate of my wheelchair was a school group of almost entirely Black high school kids from, clearly, a local-ish school, who were impeccably-behaved despite being kids and horsing around and such-- I timidly said "excuse me" to one and she leapt out of my way and tapped her friend's shoulder, who instantly stopped horsing around and said "oh excuse me!" and also got out of my way and told her friend and the children just all melted out of my path and reformed after me, unbothered, resuming their horseplay, poking at the interactive exhibits, paying surprisingly good attention and also roasting one another, as young teens do. And I thought, as I went on to read about Executive Order 8802, of these kids reading that placard, looking at that exhibit, thinking about what has changed and what, horribly, has not.

(Link is to the museum's website. There are a lot of resources there. There was meant to be a cool feature where you follow a specific veteran's story, but i was assigned Bob Hope and don't care about him so I didn't use that feature. Dude got Robert Capa, though, and I immediately was like "i know all about him" and from across the room was like "that photo on that wall is from your dude" and he was like "what" LOL. I know photographers ok.)

We lasted about five hours. We did not see as much of the museum as I would have on foot. But I also know even just the line to get in would have utterly destroyed me on foot. So we made it through to V-E day and then to V-J day and I sat in that room with the Brian Eno loop and was like You know what, I'm good. I'm good. I can't do any more.

So we went and got frozen margaritas at a fast food joint down the street and now I am recuperating. My sciatic nerve is not great, it won't let me nap either, but I will be able to walk and get dinner, which I wouldn't be if I'd done that museum on foot.

I highly recommend, even if you're mostly in good shape, if you have trouble making it through a museum and get footsore, just borrow a wheelchair, and then switch who's pushing halfway thru the museum. If it's that or cut the visit short.... We did not switch pushers, but Dude found a great deal of relief by leaning on the back of it, and I was able to carry the water bottles without much trouble.

Most museums don't have decoratively-uneven concrete floors.

I did realize, despite my obsessive reading on the topic as a kid, while I know the names of most of the German high command, i could not tell you the names of really any of the Japanese officers of similar rank. I recognized a few, from the placards, but generally I don't have the same level of knowledge there. On the one hand, I feel i should read more Japanese history of the war. On the other hand.... I think my days of being able to absorb that sort of thing might be over. Fourteen-year-old me would have loved this museum and read every placard, and would have been on foot to do it. Forty-whatever I am year old me was interested but horrified, even though I generally knew most of it already. But hearing about the estimated 100,000 Filipino civilians massacred in Manila during the battle for that city meant one thing when I was 14, and now means... well, rather a lot more, I have more context and I can really understand, now, what that means. It wasn't that i didn't understand as a kid. But I had no context.

Well, we'll see if I manage to scrape together enough brainpower to look into it any further. At any rate, the museum is worth a visit but is A Lot. Very American-Centric, but not as Patriotic as I was worrying. Not as obsessed with Big Machine Phallic Symbol as I was worried, either; it's not that there's none of that but it's largely in the context of discussing how US industrial capacity rapidly switched over to manufacturing war materiel. (Frank admissions in several cases that our stuff was inferior quality/design to both German and Japanese items, but was infinitely more numerous and in several cases it was simply that intelligent users worked out ways to use the items' defects to advantage, or to minimize their disadvantages anyway.)

And the website, linked to above, is pretty informative, with a wealth of images and citations. So there's that.

IDK, I have no like overarching message here, the bit of my sciatic nerve just inside my knee is fucking killing me and i can't think clearly about anything else for a bit, so. There's that, lol.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

bird half of remy's siren form!!

heres a summary of splish splash au:

lots of ideas jointly created with @honey-minded-hivemind

splish splash au

Remy is a siren: this means he can transition between being half bird and half human to being half fish and half human. His colors would be loosely based on those of a cardinal both for his feathers and his scales.

Sirens can sing to lure in prey of all sorts but powers can be overcome by strong will of beeswax in the ears. They don't tend to live together only gathering in larger groups for migration and those times are like huge parties where everyone checks on each other. Since they tend to be at the top of the water to go in and out of forms, they follow the warmer weather and get super sleepy when hit with very cold weather. 

This is Remys second year living and hunting alone. His brother Henri checks in on him a lot but does not live with him. Remy is really good at opening clams and chests and anything that is locked. He also can blow things up because I think him having his mutant powers is funny. He's also an empathy but doesn't 

Right before migration time he gets into a scuffle with a selki who bites through his tail fin. It'll heal but it makes it too hard to travel south for the winter. So he ends up staying in a rock crevice and doing his best.

Creed is a deep water mer and as the season shifts to colder he expands his hunter grounds to shallower water 

Deepwater mers tend to live in packs with families sleeping in piles. Creed doesn't have a pack/pod, especially after a blow-up fight with Logan 20 years ago. He still will occasionally fight with his brother (another deep sea mer) 

Creed goes for a hunt and finds a tiny pup(Remy) trying to hunt. The pup fights him and actually manages a few really good hits!! Creed is in love and when he pins the pup he decides this is now his child, and he will be caring for it thanks. 

Remy is sleepy tired and hungry and doesn't expect to wake up again after getting knocked out by Creed's fight which had turned into a playfight for Creed. He is shocked when Creed brings him fish and shark meat and he is hesitant to eat it. Creed forces him to eat the first few times and nips at his tail when he tries to leave. Remy soon attaches his empathy to him and they have a sort of link that lets them feel each other's emotions. Remy doesnt realize it and thinks hes just getting better at reading creed. 

Remy has something like that with Henri but with thousands of miles between them it's very very faint and neither really notice it, thinking the emotions are their own.

Creed teaches Remy how to hunt and doesnt realize that remy is a siren and thus more naturally a loaner. Creed doesnt even know remy can fly. Remy doesnt really go to the surface to do so till later (maybe) 

Durning this time Henri realizes that his baby brother did not migrate and goes on a one man odyssey to get back to the now freezing cold waters to track down his brother. There is monsters, humans, and trials and tribulations.,

He arrives and creed adopts him to for the lols. 

Then remy goes out to find a patch of sunlight to sleep in and a sudden visicious storm scoops up his silly butt Aaannndd he is dropped in logans territory. Remy is sleepy and afraid. Logan takes him in and drops him in the pile of pups he had taken in. 

This will lead to a massive fight with creed logan and henri.

Also addition:

Eventually creed and logan join podsish with their mishmash of mer/siren/selkie and other species. They get a small island that is hard to sail too with a lovely cove and a cave system that stretches beneath the island. 

Charles and mangus are harpies and mistake remy’s bird form for a harpy that is just a weird species that they had not met before. Charles has a base of robin colors and mangus is some sort of falcon base

Life is interesting. 

[mybrainismelted]

ok, so this is my first publish gallavich fic - please go easy on me! A.U.gust Day 9 - College @gallavichthings

Ian is pretty sure he's never been this nervous in his life. The first day of College shouldn't be THAT big of a deal, right? But he's got butterflies he can't shake, and he thinks he might sweat right through his shirt before his first class is done.

"Breathe" he reminds himself as he searches for just the right seat - not too close to the front, not in the middle, and not too far back so he can't hear. Choosing a seat is serious business to the redhead.

Finally finding his perfect spot, he gets settled in and pulls out a notebook and pen. Finally taking some time to look around he feels his heart sink at the realization that everyone else seems to have fancy new laptops out and open. Shit.

"Ok, if I can have everyone's attention please?" he hears from the front of the room. "My name is Professor Micheals, but you can call me Brian. This is Mickey, my assistant. He will be available to answer any questions you may have."

Looking at where Brian is pointing, Ian feels his heart stop and then start racing at the sight of one of the most gorgeous men he has ever seen. Inky black hair, one eyebrow arched perfectly, and just a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth as he waves to the assembled class.

As the class moves on, Ian struggles to stay focused on scribbling notes as fast as he can, while his eyes keep wandering to see what Mickey is doing. Usually sitting and apparently paying attention to what Brian is saying, but occasionally Ian has to quickly avert his gaze when Mickey turns to scan over the students.

When the class finally ends, he scrambles to get out of the room, not wanting to risk giving himself away and causing problems for himself on the first day of class. This continues for the next few weeks, Ian unable to keep his eyes off Mickey in class, and spending his nights scolding himself for his ridiculous schoolboy crush. Unfortunately, there comes a day when Ian realizes he is going to have to talk to the man - they have a paper due, and he's pretty sure it has to be emailed. He's just not sure how to make that happen given his lack of access to any kind of computer.

After the next class he takes a deep breath, steels himself, and approaches the ever-so-delicious looking object of his nightly fantasies.

"Ummm, hi Mickey?" he mutters, not 100% sure he actually said it out loud. Mickey turns around and quirks that perfect eyebrow. "Yeah, hey Red, what can I do for you?"

Ian explains his dilemma, and that he needs some help figuring out how to get his assignment in on time. "Ok, yeah, I had that problem my first year too." Mickey explains "There's a laptop loan program through the library, but you have to sign up pretty early. Let's walk over there now and I'll show you how it all works, see if there is one available."

"Uh, yeah, ummm… sure" Is all Ian is able to stumble out as the shorter man packs up his stuff and turns to lead the way out of the room.

Mickey does his best to engage Ian in some small talk as they walk, obviously sensing that he is uncomfortable about something. As they talk, they are both surprised to realize that they are both from the South Side of Chicago - and probably knew a lot of the same people growing up. "Sure explains the no laptop thing" Mickey says as they approach the doors to the library "Not many from our neighbourhood can afford that kinda stuff when they first get here"

Unfortunately for Ian, as Mickey had suspected, there are no loaner laptops available for the next 2 weeks, which means Ian definitely can't get one in time to turn his paper in this Friday. "shit, shit, shit" he mutters, wracking his brain to see if there is a way he can scrape together the money to buy a used junker from someone and hope it works.

Mickey looks at him for a minute, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb, and finally blurts out "look, I don't normally do this, but if you wanna come by my place on Friday you can use my laptop to type it up and send it."

"Yeah?" Ian whispers, completely overwhelmed by the offer. "are you sure? I can bring beer and pizza, I'll find a way to pay you back for this, I promise!" At that, he thinks he sees a flicker of something in Mickey's eyes, right before he winks and replies "Oh I'm sure you'll think of something, man"

Ian feels himself flushing, and can't help but think as he takes down Mickey's address and phone number that maybe, just maybe, College isn't so scary after all.

[greatwesternway]

So this has been on my mind. But Thomas's origin in the books. Is it true? that he just one day came the sodor During a time of war? If so, then does he even remember life before sodor? Or does he just propress the memories?

I'll be honest in that I don't really devote much thought to Thomas. He's kinda got that AMC Series Syndrome to me, where he's arguably the main character and therefore the most developed and so the least interesting.

But the yakety sax nature of the more notable Sodor acquisition stories seems to passively support the narrative of Thomas' arrival on the island. I think it was less that Thomas, of his own accord, wandered onto Sodor but was loaned (along with his crew as it goes in RWS) to help build the railway. When the time came to return him to his actual owners, though... well, lots of things get lost in war. An entire engine seems like a lot to mislay, but it honestly sounds like it could have been a clerical error. The mainland is removing lost materiel from its inventory accounting, Thomas gets mistakenly stricken from roster (either because his status as a loaner was vague or maybe they confused him with another engine who was lost in the war (à la Don Draper, to bring us back around on the AMC metaphor). Then when Sir Topham Hatt tried to arrange his return, they shrugged their shoulders and said they never met the guy. But he's a perfectly Useful engine and if he's nowhere to return to, he may as well stay here.

One does not look a gift engine in the mouth (because it's hot in there).

[theyareweird]

Frankie Stein's Home Ick by Ms. Kindergrubber Survival Guide

Flyleaf

Frankie's comment (blue pen):

Hey everybody! If you haven't taken this class yet, I'm going to give you everything you need to know to survive Home Ick with Ms. Kindergrubber. If you follow my advice, you'll never fall apart in class.

Class Overview

Home Ick introduces students to an amazing world of practical skills and concepts that will continue to haunt them for the rest of their unlives. This class will cover but is not limited to the following subjects:

Basic potions, concoctions and mixtures

Proper use and care of cauldrons and ovens

Practical stitching and sewing techniques —Fave!

Issues and careers in Home Ick and the mad food sciences

Monster biology and food choices

Many monsters that haven't taken Home Ick believe that it is an easy class. That could not be further from the truth! Ms. Kindergrubber loves, loves, loves this subject, and she'll expect you to love it as much as she does. If you think you can just drive-through and order up an "A," you'll be in trouble, and that's why I'm here to help.

Lecture

The instructor will explain the techniques necessary to completing the student's weekly assignments.

Basically Ms. K. shows us how to do something and we're expected to do it the same way… the exact same way.

Tests

Both written and practical exams will be used as a measuring tool to assess a student's comprehension of the presented information.

Ms. K. likes to use her recipes as tests to make sure you take good notes when she gives out the recipe during lecture cause she makes you taste test everything! Spectra added too much frog hair to a recipe we were being tested on and it made her smell like burnt popcorn wrapped in spoiled cabbage.

Yuck.

Supplies

Notebook and pen

Apron —If you don't bring your own apron Ms. K. has box of loaners and they are totally nasty.

Hairnet —(There is no way to look fashionable in a hair net… I'm sorry it just cannot be done.)

Fireproof oven mitts

Thimble

Other Things You Need To Know

–On the day you make dragon butter, make sure you don't eat before you come to class. Just trust me on this.

–Prepare for broken nails, head-to-toe soot, and a week of lectures on oven safety. Oh, and don't ever ask Ms. K. to check if your oven is hot enough. Totally freaks her out for some reason.

–If you think this is just a class for the ghouls, you'd be dead wrong. Deuce was in my class, and he was a total rock star when it came to the cooking part of the class. His recipes were the only ones that Ms. K. would actually try herself. She made the rest of us try them out on each other. Deuce tried to say he just got lucky, but I don't believe it. Besides that, there are usually four times as many ghouls as guys… just saying.

–You'll get to spend a week in the creepateria helping to prepare and serve food. It's a shockingly difficult job, especially when you think about having to come up with meals that appeal to as many different monsters as possible. That's the reason all the choices are either gravy brown or slightly gray. They have a little bit of everything thrown in them, so there'll be at least one taste that's familiar to every monster. On the last day you work in the creepateria, the lurch ladies make their specialties just for the class, and they can really cook! Plus after having to ladle a mile in their hairnets makes you a lot less likely to complain about the food in the creepateria.

–Do not use Draculaura as an example of a monster that doesn't eat what they're "supposed" to. It makes Ms. K. cranky, and I think she keeps a dirty cauldron set aside just for monsters that bring this up.

–Every monster has to do a class project for the Home Ick open cottage. That's when parents and other students get to come in and check out all our mad skills. You won't be shocked to know that I chose a sewing project. I even know some knots that Ms. K. doesn't, and I got extra credit for demonstrating them to the class. You probably don't want to choose the life-size gingerbread house as your project, though, because, for some reason, Ms. K. is really, really picky about how it needs to be done.

Hope this info charges you up for the class.

Love, Frankie

Sewing 101

Dress pattern

Back Front

1. Cut out 2 in any fabric of your choice. Lay flat sew 3/8" in from edge up back seam inside out.

2. Cut out 1 in any fabric of your choice. Sew onto back piece 3/8" from edge inside out. Turn right inside out. Add snap.

Faculty

Ms. Kindergrubber began her career in the Home Ick sciences when it was just a cottage industry. Eventually though, so many students found themselves on the path to her sweet little place in the country that she found herself pushed into teaching. She has authored several cookbooks and her Black Forest cake is simply to die for. —YUMMM!!!!

You should know that Ms. K. does not see very well but she hears everything and her nose is better than Clawdeen's on a full moon.

[thefisherqueen]

I fell a bit behind on Letters from Watson, time to read Shoscombe old place today! :)

Sherlock Holmes had been bending for a long time over a low-power microscope. Now he straightened himself up and looked round at me in triumph. 'Holmes is not human' confirmed, but only in the sense that it is inhuman to be bend over for a long time without developing extreme back pain

“Is it one of your cases?” “No; my friend, Merivale, of the Yard, asked me to look into the case. I don't know if it just my terrible memory for names, but Merivale does not sound familiar. Which is a bit odd, a 'friend' of Holmes we don't yet know. Also strange that Watson is referring to this case as 'your case'. As a result, this case feels rather old? Like it happened long ago, when Holmes and Watson were much less intimate

Actually, more things point in that direction. Like Watson receiving a wound persion

Norberton nearly came within your province once.” “How was that?” “It was when he horsewhipped Sam Brewer, the well-known Curzon Street money-lender, on Newmarket Heath. He nearly killed the man.” “Ah, he sounds interesting! Deranged reaction from Holmes here. I love it. Also, being almost beat to death with a horsewhip sounds extremely painful. Definitely a sadist at work here. Probably only got away with this torturous attack because the dude's rich

And here, I expect, is the man who can tell us.” The door had opened and the page had shown in a tall, clean-shaven man with the firm, austere expression which is only seen upon those who have to control horses or boys. Very amused by the implication that boys behave just like horses. Also slightly bewildered by the sudden appearance of a page. Whom makes up the domestic staff of this household? We've seen occasional references to a page, maid and cook, but they pop up so irregulary that it seems like mrs. Hudson employs them to only almost immediately sack them

He bowed with cold self-possession Watson what does that mean??

“First of all, Mr. Holmes, I think that my employer, Sir Robert, has gone mad.” Holmes raised his eyebrows. “This is Baker Street, not Harley Street,” said he. From wikipedia: "Since the 19th century, the number of doctors, hospitals, and medical organisations in and around Harley Street has greatly increased. Records show that there were around 20 doctors in 1860, 80 by 1900, and almost 200 by 1914."

He thinks of nothing but the horse and the race. His whole life is on it. He's holding off the Jews till then. If the Prince fails him he is done. Always charming, jewish people being referred one to one as money loaners. I guess that makes the Robert's attack on Sam Brewer antisemitistic in nature

And she takes it to heart. She is brooding and sulky and drinking, Mr. Holmes—drinking like a fish. A large part of why I love reading older books and books not written in my native language. Expressions are sometimes so suprising and delightful - drinking like a fish is so vivid

It's all changed, Mr. Holmes, and there is something damned rotten about it. But then, again, what is master doing down at the old church crypt at night? And who is the man that meets him there?” Holmes rubbed his hands. “Go on, Mr. Mason. You get more and more interesting.” Excited autistic hand rubbing time again! :)

So, in summary, so far we've got a man who's violent, mistreats his sister, creeps around at night on some secret business, is severely in debt and utterly reliant on one outcome of a gamble to solve his financial problems. Sounds like a good cocktail for a major interferrence plot to secure the gambling outcome. Torture, murder and abduction not excluded from the possiblities

It was on that second night. Sir Robert turned and passed us—me and Stephens, quaking in the bushes like two bunny-rabbits, for there was a bit of moon that night. This makes such a good image

“There is her maid, Carrie Evans. She has been with her this five years.” “And is, no doubt, devoted?” Mr. Mason shuffled uncomfortably. “She's devoted enough,” he answered at last. “But I won't say to whom.” “Ah!” said Holmes. “I can't tell tales out of school.” I will forever be amazed by the amount of vagueness one can employ and yet for it still be understood as saying 'my master is fucking the maid'. Such creativity

We can't fit that into our plot.” “No, sir, and there is something more that I can't fit in. Why should Sir Robert want to dig up a dead body?” Holmes sat up abruptly. Way to drop a plot twist, my man

“What is the name of that inn you spoke of?” “The Green Dragon.” “Is there good fishing in that part of Berkshire?” The honest trainer showed very clearly upon his face that he was convinced that yet another lunatic had come into his harassed life. Lol. That poor man. I'm getting my hopes up for another cozy inn scene, it feels like a while ago we were treated to some good, intimate Holmes/Watson room sharing

Thus it was that on a bright May evening Holmes and I found ourselves alone in a first-class carriage So I read this fic on AO3 where Holmes and Watson also were alone in a first class carriage and they - ok, nevermind, my AO3 history is between me and my browser only

“Let us consider our data. The brother no longer visits the beloved invalid sister. He gives away her favourite dog. Her dog, Watson! Does that suggest nothing to you?” “Nothing but the brother's spite.” “Well, it might be so. Or—well, there is an alternative. Hm, let me do a poor attempt at considering the data. My best guess is that the brother - sir Robert - wants the dog out of the way for something. What do dogs do? They dig things up and like bones, which might be inconvient if you're digging up dead bodies? They bark when strangers enter the grounds at night? Considering that a stranger did enter the grounds, it might be just that Robert was concerned about the dog raising alarm on that

“But the crypt?” “Ah, yes, the crypt! Let us suppose, Watson—it is merely a scandalous supposition, a hypothesis put forward for argument's sake—that Sir Robert has done away with his sister.” Ok that does make more sense as to why the dog had to go! Of course, a dog would not be fooled by an impersonator. Nor would a horse

My dear Holmes :) :) :)

So the stranger who Mr. Mason saw was the one who's now impersonating the sister, I gather. Gods, the 'man in dress for means of evil deception' trope is old

“How far is this crypt from the house?” asked Holmes.“A good quarter of a mile.” “Then I think we can disregard him altogether.” “I can't afford to do that, Mr. Holmes. The moment he arrives he will want to see me to get the last news of Shoscombe Prince.” “I see! In that case we must work without you, Mr. Mason. You can show us the crypt and then leave us.” Always love Watson and Holmes sneaking around at night

“But why in the world would anyone want to burn the bones of a man who has been dead a thousand years?” asked John Mason. “That is what we are here to find out,” said Holmes. “It may mean a long search, and we need not detain you. I fancy that we shall get our solution before morning.” Are they actually going to open up coffins? That is some gothic shit and I'm here for it

Then, as Holmes returned no answer, he took a couple of steps forward and raised a heavy stick which he carried. “Do you hear me?” he cried. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” His cudgel quivered in the air. But instead of shrinking Holmes advanced to meet him. “I also have a question to ask you, Sir Robert,” he said in his sternest tone. “Who is this? And what is it doing here?” First: oops. Second: Holmes, for your own and Watson's sake, please avoid becoming the next corpse in that crypt

“How came you to know of this?” he cried. And then, with some return of his truculent manner: “What business is it of yours?” “My name is Sherlock Holmes,” said my companion. “Possibly it is familiar to you. In any case, my business is that of every other good citizen—to uphold the law. It seems to me that you have much to answer for.” Holmes' confrontations just are the best. Imagine being this large man with a fearsome reputation, pulling a weapon upon a stranger you find in your own crypt at night, and he just calmly confronts you with what filth he has dug about you. Scary levels of confidence there. I would be taken aback too

“‘Fore God, Mr. Holmes, it's all right,” said he. “Appearances are against me, I'll admit, but I could act no otherwise.” Wondering what excuse this violent villain will come up with

“Well, Sir Robert,” said Holmes, rising, “this matter must, of course, be referred to the police. It was my duty to bring the facts to light, and there I must leave it. Glad that Holmes will not hush up this case. That man may not have murdered his sister, but everything else he did was still out of all bounds, and only done for purely selfish reasons

It is generally known now that this singular episode ended upon a happier note than Sir Robert's actions deserved. (...) Both police and coroner took a lenient view of the transaction, and beyond a mild censure for the delay in registering the lady's decease, the lucky owner got away scatheless from this strange incident in a career which has now outlived its shadows and promises to end in an honoured old age. A rather dissapointing ending to this story, in my opinion. I guess that 'debts should not bring about personal ruin' is a rad point, just as 'don't believe all scandalous gossip', but all the rest just reads like the result of class privilege. Looking for actual work instead of just gambling to gain his own income was of course not even considered. His near deadly attack on Sam Brewer was not adressed, nor are his violent ways. Possibly Doyle considered this a realistic outcome in his time? I love, however, that both Holmes and Watson still made their contempt for this man clear

[theradicalscrivener]

I am a really big fan of how you write shrinking stories (specifically when it comes to cock shrinking, but I also like when it involves the entire body).

And I was thinking about Wash from Canis Drainem.

The thing is, I cannot stop thinking about two possible scenarios.

1) Wash stopped shrinking when he was the exact same size as his cock was when he was full size. I think there is something very hot about being the same size as your cock, but even more so when you were proud about how big it was. And it's now your height. You can be a human cock, in a way, if you wanted to. It's a very hot idea to me, at least. And I wonder if you have ever written something like that? Or if Wash would have enjoyed his existence as a cock sized man.

2) Instead of shrinking and shrinking, Wash stops at what is small, but not out of the ordinary for humans. That is, he goes from 7 feet tall to something like 4'11. Undoubtedly small, but he would still be able to be independent. It also effectively changes the dynamics Wash has with the world, as he is shorter than most adults. And it would be interesting to me how his life would have been like if he stopped shrinking at that height.

I know it's a long ask to answer. And I contemplated asking two different asks, but since both are derived from the same story... I thought it was best to include both scenarios here.

But you are free to just write what you think about one of them, or none. No pressure.

Anyway. Thank you. And have a nice day. Hopefully your new ears have been working properly and comfortably.

Those are both very fun ideas, but they'd be fundamentally different stories.

That would have put Wash at about the 10 inch range. Which would have put him a bit bigger than Harvey's cock. Would have been interesting to see him having a bit of pride at being bigger than Harvey's cock despite being less than a foot tall. I feel like I'd have to have done something in the past in that size range because it's so much fun. I know that Devon is very close to his old cock size. (He was 8" hung and now he's a smidge over 7" tall). It's a fun scenario. Especially if the tiny guy is a bit cocky and or dominant in such a way that he likes to like manhandle the cocks that are nearly as large as he is. In wash's scenario, he'd probably really get into being that size. The biggest issues would be that he would be so large that he's easily visible and would not be easy to keep his new size a secret. So the main story would probably focus around them trying to decide if they wanted to try and keep his existence a secret or if Wash wanted to go public with being a ten inch stud. I remember there was a scene in that story when Wash got to be about the same size as Harvey's cock where Harvey pinned him to the floor beneath his dick and was basically grinding his cock against the guy. This was about the part where Wash really started to realize that he was enjoying being tiny so him getting stuck at that size would probably be a lot of him going back and forth since he's enjoying being small but doesn't want to admit it, and also, he's still large enough that he can almost interact with his old life if he chose to. Like, he can't play ball anymore, but he could try to reach out to his old teammates, but that most likely wouldn't go well for him.

There's a lot of fun to be had at that size as well, but it would be a very different story. It would more be like the shrinking was the prologue, and him learning to adjust to being kid-sized would be the major plot arc. Like, he couldn't wear any of his old clothes, and when he has to shop for more, he has to get like some loaners at first. He's used to being massive, and so having to borrow clothes from a little guy that he used to bully only to realize that these clothes are far too huge for him to wear, and then when he does find clothes that fit him, he realizes he has to shop in the kid's section. It's just a series of blows to his ego. Then he tries to go about his life. He's still beefy, but he's almost half his old height. He's like eye-level with his bro's belly buttons. Imagine him getting to the locker room and getting ready to gear up for practice, but all his former subordinates are now looming over him and teasing him like he had once teased them. Although... Wash is so hung, proportionally, that his cock would still be well over 6 inches. I'd imagine he'd still have some ammo he could use with that.

And yeah, the ears are working well for the most part. I've been slowly working out the bugs. Although, I have some kinda flu this week (not the rona fortunately) so my ear's are like sore and itchy and inflamed, so the little implants hurt a lot. orz

[eponymous-rose]

I'm gonna do this again because it turned out last week kinda went off the rails without it and the little bit of accountability is super super helpful.

Monday!

It's a busy week! It's also my birthday week! Let's do this!

E-mail with coffee: sent a prospective grad student a congratulations on her admission to our program. I'm really hoping to hire her, but I do need to consider whether I might want to admit two students for this position and just get the extra funding for the second one elsewhere if both decide to come. Hmm. Confirmed coffee on Friday with the wonderful admin I've been wanting to befriend for a while - finally we'll interact outside of paperwork! Sadly Wednesday's seminar speaker is ill and won't be able to present - I'm leading the seminar so that does add up to a little less work for me, which is the silver lining there. One of my student groups is struggling to grab data from the weather station they built on the roof because the dang software doesn't work on Macs - managed to coordinate getting them a loaner PC laptop from the department, whew. Completed two letters of reference for an undergrad student applying to internships. Somehow managed to double-book a meeting and gave one a heads up to cancel. Showed my availability for scheduling a PhD defense for a student whose committee I'm on. One of the speakers for my seminar series sent a somewhat passive-aggressive e-mail to the department chair to let him know his info's not up on the website yet. Department chair forwarded it to me, I replied with, essentially "hold your dang horses, your talk isn't until mid-March". He replied back with a sheepish apology. All good.

Formulated my list of essential stuff for this week:

finish Wednesday's (and next week's?) lecture(s?)

prepare next week's homework & key

work on grant proposal

work on commissioned review article

So excited that we're finally to the part of the class that I have taught before in past years! Great lecture today about statistical data analysis. Hurt everyone's brains with the Monty Hall problem. Showed a lot of XKCD comics, got some laughs. Good times. Answered some student questions on the homework assignments, looks like everyone's on track to ace this one as well. This is a really strong class and I'm very proud of them!

On to a virtual meeting with my peer mentoring group! We talk about how utterly wild it is that different departments manage research funding in completely different ways. I vent a bit for the umpteenth time about having to rely 100% on grants to pay my grad students (bigger departments often have student funding provided if they TA, but we just don't have enough classes to sustain that). Easily the biggest source of stress in my life right now is running out of funding for my students: "in order to pay your graduate students, you have to receive a major grant" "cool! how likely am I to get one?" "success rates are about 1 in 15" "uhhhh" "also the applications (if you manage to find a perfect match for your research) take about 40-60 hours to plan and write and it's not work that's looked at formally as part of your tenure review so you're actively taking time away from research" "uhhhhhhh" "and you won't find out if you have been awarded the grant or not before you have to make the decision to hire a student so you just gotta gamble on it" "UHHHHHHH" "you don't get paid in the summer either unless you pull in 2-3 grants that can each cover one month max of salary so I hope you're not putting well over 50% of your take-home toward rent in one of the worst markets in the US or anything haha." It's A Lot. But it's very helpful to talk to people about it!

Realized I left my half-finished Wednesday lecture on my computer at home so I can't work on it during my break between meetings. Shoot, guess that's a tomorrow problem. At least I can work on the homework assignment! This one was an absolute nightmare last year but I think I've come up with a way to simplify it while still hitting all of the learning goals. It's complicated but hopefully very satisfying and builds on everything they've learned thus far. Even with the simplification, I'm definitely expecting some traffic in office hours next week. Opted not to include the more tedious section of the homework because I've tested that particular skill amply in the earlier assignments this quarter. Ran through it once on my own, sent myself the key, then posted the homework and the submission portal for their online module for next week, so all I'm missing now is the lectures.

E-mail break! A professor at a small university nearby wants to bring in a grad student from my group to talk to her class about tornadoes! I have someone in mind (who is both a great presenter and also could use a little confidence boost to get back on track with his research), but of course he's working remotely on the other side of the country, so it's time for a quick check to see if a remote presentation is possible. Checking in on my seminar speaker for next week - project title and abstract up on the website, phew. She's a grad student, so I should find out if her advisor can introduce her or if they want me to do so (and if so, I gotta do some digging for fun facts to share!). Got an invite to a lunch with the faculty & chair where we're going to be brainstorming our next faculty hire, so I gotta be there for that (also because free food)! Surreal to think that we might be hiring my colleague for the next 30 years. It's... kind of intimidating and I definitely want to be in the room for that discussion. Aha! A reply already: virtual talk is fine, so I put the professor and my grad student in touch.

Nice virtual meeting with my former postdoc advisor - we commiserate for a while over his recent illness, but he's feeling better now so we quickly jump back to talking research. The small grant I was awarded recently actually dovetails with some of the broader research ideas he and I had been talking about, so I'm gonna keep him in the loop on that!

Up next: a meeting with my two undergraduate research interns. They're coadvised by my colleague who is flying research aircraft on the other side of the country right now so it's just the three of us. Due to holidays and conferences, this is actually the first time in 2023 we all managed to meet! We go over some paperwork to make sure they get college credit for this research. They're spinning their wheels a little bit but I had them shoot off a couple emails while I was there to start them getting their data ASAP. We then chatted about severe weather we'd all witnessed. One of the students mentioned she's been saving the candy from my office candy bowl for whenever she forgets to bring lunch to campus and now I'm realizing I should maybe get some protein bars or something for some variety.

All good stuff. There's a seminar in 15 minutes but it's a chemistry seminar so... I may just sneak home a bit early.

Tomorrow: no meetings (maaaybe one remote meeting), so work-from home! Should be able to get the last bit of coursework done for the week so I can start on my research to-do list.

[katerinateller]

Note to Self: DON'T USE UNITY ENGINE

Take FEE from Developers for Every copy for every game installed.

FREE GAMES the fees still apply estimate more than $25,000,000

Declare bankruptcy to the bank, loaner's and users. (??? Does Unity apply the same charges to Casino machines,slot websites, jackpot party, it's legally a gaming ain't it?)

I get FREE GAME, while DEVELOPER is CHARGED for that MY FREE COPY

So if I a Gamer become a Developer will be CHARGED for FREE GAMES even by multiple copies from one user

" That's bad " I feel bad for studio's situation :(

*Edit UPDATES (September 13 2023)

- Unity "regrouped" and now says ONLY the initial installation of a game triggers a fee (0.20$ per install){I hope there no glitches concerning installation}

- Demos mostly won't trigger fees (Keyword: MOSTLY what does that mean)

- Devs not charged fee for Game Pass, Thank God for the Indie Developers

- Charity games/bundles exempted from fees

Xbox is on the hook, for Gamepass?

*Edit Updates (September 13 2023)

Unity:

-Who is impacted by this price increase: The price increase is very targeted. In fact, more than 90% of our customers will not be affected by this change. Customers who will be impacted are generally those who have found a substantial scale in downloads and revenue and have reached both our install and revenue thresholds. This means a low (or no) fee for creators who have not found scale success yet and a modest one-time fee for those who have. (How big of scale of success before your charged?)

-Fee on new installs only: Once you meet the two install and revenue thresholds, you only pay the runtime fee on new installs after Jan 1, 2024. It’s not perpetual: You only pay once for an install, not an ongoing perpetual license royalty like a revenue share model. (???)(How do they know that from device)

-How we define and count installs: Assuming the install and revenue thresholds are met, we will only count net new installs on any device starting Jan 1, 2024. Additionally, developers are not responsible for paying a runtime fee on: • Re-install charges - we are not going to charge a fee for re-installs. •Fraudulent installs charges - we are not going to charge a fee for fraudulent installs. We will work directly with you on cases where fraud or botnets are suspected of malicious intent.

- Trials, partial play demos, & automation installs (devops) charges - we are not going to count these toward your install count. Early access games are not considered demos.

- Web and streaming games - we are not going to count web and streaming games toward your install count either.

- Charity-related installs - the pricing change and install count will not be applied to your charity bundles/initiatives.(Good)

•If I make a expansion pack does count as install, what if I made sequel?

•Fee apply to$200,000 USD (How does work for other countries)

So I charge $60 per ONE Videogame I will be charged fees once I sell about 3400 copies ($204000)

I then sell say 10,000copies(New Sequels as well)

(If I download game onto my computer twice they get charged 0.20, how ever if I redownload onto another device say Xbox, would they get charged again, charges may vary depending on how many games.)

OVERALL

Seems to force companies to charge customers higher prices on videogames to avoid a loss of profit.

*Edit Updates as of (September 22.2023)

- Your Game is made using a Unity Pro or Unity Enterprise plan.

- Your Game is created or will be upgraded to the next major Unity version releasing in 2024.

- Your Game meets BOTH thresholds of $1,000,000 (USD) gross revenue (GROSS= Before Deductions & Taxes) on a trailing 12 month basis(?) AND 1,000,000 *lifetime initial engagements.

As for counting the number of *initial engagements, it will depend on your game and distribution platforms.

Some example metrics that we recommend are number of units sold or first-time user downloads.

This list is not comprehensive, but you can submit an estimate based on these metrics. Hope this helps! You can also find more information here: https://unity.com/pricing-updates

I'm sorry, Did that User say runtime fee is still tied to the number of installations (WTF Runtime Fee)

•Qualify(Ew) for the run-time fee:

1) are on Pro and Enterprise plans

2) have upgraded to the Long Term Support (LTS) version releasing in 2024 (or later)

3) You have crossed the $1,000,000 (USD) in gross revenue (GROSS= Before Deductions & Taxes)(trailing 12 months)

4) 1,000,000 initial engagements

( I noticed that it doesn't seem to mention International Revenue. Only the USD)

•Delete Unity

•Deletes Game before they make million

•Make $900,000 then make Game Free

•Make Game Free and implore people for their generosity

•Change Game Engine

Too tired to do the math...

[wordswithkittywitch]

The Story of Sandwich Guy

For those of you who do not know, I am the mistress of Gold Key in the Barony of Stonemarche in the SCA. For those of you who really don't know, I go to medieval reenacting events, bringing a large assortment of pre-seventeenth-century clothing and loan it out to people so that everyone who comes to the event can be wearing a reasonable attempt at garb, whether they own any or not. It's fun, I get to make a lot of people happy as they rediscover the simple joy of dressing up like knights and princesses (note, they aren't knights and princesses, those are actual ranks in the SCA which one hardly gets at their first event) and I also get to take direct action when people show up without garb, which always has annoyed me.

Now, the largest event in the Barony is Birka. It takes place over a weekend and a couple hundred people attend. A surprising amount of those people are people who haven't even heard of the SCA but saw that there was an event going on in the Expo center and thought twenty bucks for a weekend was a good deal. Often a family or a group of friends all come in together and I'll be helping five people at the same time. Sometimes more than one family at once. So I tend to be very busy the entire time, helping people find outfits and keeping the area tidy. Most of the tidying comes in the form of hanging up the clothes people changed out of so they don't have to carry it, I know how many pieces haven't been returned yet, and they are guaranteed to come back with the loaner garb.

I mention this so that you have some idea of my state of mind when, in the middle of the day, during one of these rushes, a man comes in and asks for help. He had brought his own garb, as had his wife, but unfortunately his wife spilled something on the chemise and had to run up to the hotel room and wash it out. He assured me the chemise was fine, just soaking wet and she was waiting in the hotel room for him to come up with a new one so she could get dressed again. This is fine, this is what Gold Key is there for. I have signs hanging on the wall that explain Gold Key is free to anyone who lost, damaged, or otherwise does not have garb.

The trouble is, he has nothing to trade for the chemise. The wet chemise is hanging in the hotel room being cleaned. She didn't bring mundanes to the event, and he certainly didn't bring them down with him. In the past people have left their hotel keys or driver's licenses, but he had to leave the hotel after this. I asked if he had anything on him he could leave as collateral.

He holds up half a sub, rolled in paper and plastic.

"I really want this sandwich. It's precious to me. I'll come back for it by the end of the day." he promises.

I have three other people I need to help at this point, I'm stressed, and I don't know what to do. For some reason, what I did do was accept the sandwich, give him the chemise, and put the sandwich on the bottom of the coat rack next to a purse that had been left for the same reason. I remind him that the room locks up at ten and he'll need to bring back the chemise by the end of the day, retrieving his sandwich.

The day goes on, I'm kept busy, and I don't think about sandwich guy until about nine-forty-five, when I look over to the rack of checked garments, and there is just a choli that had that morning been worn by one of the skinniest four-year-olds I've ever seen in my life, despite the fact it was made to fit her mother. The mother had wanted to dress her child up as a bellydancer and take her to the hafla but the top was proving pretty much impossible for the kid to wear, and she ended up leaving it in exchange for a tie-front gown I have only ever seen fit an infant before. This kid was tiny. I wonder about both someone taking a toddler to a dance party that ends at ten P. M. and someone who leaves a sandwich in a coat check, not to mention how early I needed to get up the next morning. The hafla ends, the child returns the gown, and the other people in the room promise me that they will lock it when they leave, and if the sandwich guy came back, they would return his sandwich.

The next morning I arrive to take down Gold Key.

The sandwich is still there.

The sandwich has been sitting, unrefrigerated, on a coat rack, in a conference room, in a hotel, for what was closing in on twenty-four hours.

This distresses me, but I have three racks of clothing to sort into used and clean; two clothing racks to disassemble, twelve bins to fill with clothing, load into my sister's car, drive to a storage locker, lock up for the year, and two trash-bag sized bags of laundry to take home. I do not have time to eat lunch, much less worry about someone else's.

Finally, the man returns with the chemise. I pick up the sandwich. I extend it towards him.

"Here's your sandwich." I say.

"I do not want it."

"Take this sandwich away." I insist, more than a little stressed at this point. He took the sandwich. I assume he threw it away, but I do not care. All I care about is that the sandwich was no longer my problem.

I will no longer be accepting perishable items as collateral for Gold Key.

[louvay]

Dear Lord Arthur,

Would you mind lending a lady a little helping hand? My lord and his new fiancee are thinking of celebrating their private engagement. He would like somewhere romantic and secluded, preferably a countryside village, where they can spend a quality time together without being subjected to a barrage of people's stares and worldly affairs... ahem, besides their own pleasure, if you forgive me for this.

You must understand, Sir, that milord is quite a socialite despite not very keen on being referred as such himself, so anything he does will always attract attention no matter what -- especially if he's not alone! He has been quite nervous and excited at the same time, and I have sworn an oath of secrecy that his identity will remain a guarded secret throughout the course of my consulting people such as you. I've been informed that you are not, actually, hailing from Silesse; but considering you seem to know the country like the back of your hand, I'd love to add Silesse into his considerations given the serene yet majestic atmosphere the country exudes.

He's aware of all the challenges and willing to use a pseudonym!

Your humble Agustrian peasant,

Rose Blade.

Dear Rose Blade

If this noble is who I think it is ie Agustria’s black cat then I must preface this letter with two things:

1. Silesse is NOT an ideal place for two foreign nobles to find refuge from prying eyes.

2. His fiancee is a dancer, it will be inevitable that attention will come to them.

But worry not, I have my ways around these frigid lands and I do not mind sharing believe it or not. Firstly, if he wishes for refuge in Silesse then he must wear the attire of a bard. It is by far the most apt disguise in these lands and no one will bat an eye! Secondly, make sure his fiancee finds a new hobby. I am sure dancing is good to keep oneself warm but that warmness is exactly why others seek her like moths to a Valflame. Instead she should be as cold as her stare when her loaner refuses to pay the full sum back to her. That’s right, she should become a debt collector and that will certainly keep prying eyes away from her. I even heard the lord’s aunt was given a sword meant for thievery by well… a thief. Rumors say she even married that thief but rumors are simply rumors unless it is about my aunt.

As for his new moniker, I believe Garfield would be most fitting for him. Foreign yet apt! With this in mind, I sure do hope your lords find some solace there and make sure to tell them that King Ced is hosting a dull party that is begging to be crashed

Your most agitated of nobles,

Lord Arthur