#calescent

[xycuro-illuminati]

I'm drawing my ocs for once NOT CLICKBAIT (The oc on the right of Calescent in the me and bro meme is named They and they belongs to Red-fingrs!)

[rr-kabel]

The Calescent Storage Water Heater by RR Kabel offers efficient and reliable water heating solutions for modern homes. Featuring advanced safety systems, including a thermostat and thermal cut-out, it ensures optimal performance and protection. The robust stainless steel tank and high-density PUF insulation guarantee long-lasting durability and energy efficiency. With a sleek design and easy installation, the Calescent Water Heater is perfect for ensuring a consistent supply of hot water, providing comfort and convenience year-round.

[sith-shenanigans]

I Will Burn And Salt Your Fields Hats. I Will Retire From My Ambition To Become A Seeker And Visit A Reckoning Solely On You. You Will Regret The Day I Landed On These Shores Because I Definitely Already Do.

[monprecieuxx]

no cause the 'to the core' thing has not left my mind since i first read it...

eddie diaz who enlisted fresh out of hs, already so burdened w/the weight of the world. never got to explore on his own (neither did shannon, the marriage thing still trips me up they fucked up these kids lives forever), never had a chance to fuck up and grow from mistakes. at least not trivial mistakes, always life changing missteps. someone who doesn't even know himself to the core of his being.

he loves buck like that.

he sees past all of buck's walls, his hurt, his pain, his miniscule joys. sees through them, sees buck with them, sees buck wholly as someone to love.

love with, love despite, love because.

[echo-rambles]

writing minsung in love is guaranteed to put a smile on my face holy shit

-o0o-

Jisung appears, struggling to put on his hoodie one handed. His head pokes through the collar, the fabric all bunched around his neck and one sleeve hanging loose by his side. “What’d Jinnie say? Is he ok with being abandoned?” 

Minho immediately moves forward, making him drop the hockey bag and tugging the hoodie into place. Thankfully Jisung doesn’t give him any problems, smiling brightly as Minho clicks his tongue and is purposefully rough as he helps Jisung stuff his arm into the empty sleeve. 

“Apparently he’s going out with Changbin-hyung.” Jeongin informs him, before Minho can even open his mouth and relay any information. 

“Like a date?” Jisung blinks, looking between the two of them before landing squarely on Minho. 

Jeongin nods solemnly, like it’s a fact of the universe. Minho bites back a terrible giggle as he pulls Jisung’s hood over his head. 

-

“Alright, looks like I'm stuck with you.” He slinks back onto the couch, practically laying himself in Minho’s lap.

He smiles down at Jisung, running a hand through his hair. “Ah, don’t complain. We both know that’s your favorite place to be.”

“Can you two be gross in the car? Please?” Seungmin jingles Minho’s keys in the air, impatient to leave.

-

Jisung makes a little whining noise, and it shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. Minho wants to squish his face. “When are you getting home? I miss you so much.” 

“You saw me this morning.”  “That was hours ago! Jagiya, I wanna see you now.”

-

“I love you.” He says it because he means it.

Because it has Jisung's smile growing, the shape reminding Minho of a perfect tangerine slice. “Yeah, well I love you more.” 

“Gross.”

“You're gross!”

“Get in the car before I decide to leave you here.”  

“You'd never! You love me too much.”

“Do you want to test it?”

“Fine, I'm going!” Jisung huffs and moves to scramble around the car.

[verosvault]

🚨 SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 5!!!🚨 | SYNOD MALL PUNS!!!

The different shop puns in the set of the fight! 😆😆

Some of it is hard to see. Because the set is SO BLUE! 😭😭💀💀

✨THACO BELL✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨Ochre Jellious✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨BARDS & NOBLES✨

Tomevendore

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨Armour Zombie & Lich✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

Also big shoutouts to the ones on the dome that weren't really mentioned/shown on the set! But show on the dome!

I took screenshots of these upcoming pictures from (https://dimension20.fandom.com/wiki/Synod_Mall)!!!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨BUILD-A-BUGBEAR WORKSHOP✨

&

✨BURROW'S END✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨YARRBUCKS COFFEE✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨PHILLY'S GHOSTSTEAKS✨

&

✨ARCANEAGNE'S✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨BLOODBATH & BEYOND✨

&

✨Mystic Pizza✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

✨Calescent Theme✨

&

✨PHILOSOPHER'S SCONE✨

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○

I can't read like...2 or 3 of the stores cause they're covered by columns!!! 😭😭😭😭🥲🥲🥲🥲

[kittyoverlord]

I'm a sucker for D&D and store name puns.

(i also played thaco for the first time last year and it wasn't that bad. Could I explain it to you? No.)

Editing to add the names from the clean background plate that @caitmayart posted:

List of names we've got: THACO Bell Ochre Jellious Bards & Nobles Armour Zombie & Lich Wolves Fargo (probably where Jawbone Banks) Philosopher's Scone Arcane Agne's Philly's Ghoststeaks (they're steaks for ghosts) Mystic Pizza Blood Bath & Beyond Uncommon Knowledge Calescent Theme Burrow's End Yarrbucks Coffee Build-a-Bugbear Workshop

This one is eluding me.... Ms. Elysian Fields maybe? Any ideas?

[ranenjin]

Rae & Calescent, my mud/sand and sandwing ocs! whenever i get stressed i come crawling back to the WoF fandom it heals my soul

[r3dvlvet]

Okay I haven’t seen a full list of these but you can look at Cait’s layout for the mall on her website and I found some places people hadn’t mentioned so here’s a list:

- Blood Bath and Beyond

- Uncommon Knowledge

- Calescent Theme

- Philosopher’s Scone

- Wolves Fargo ATM

- Some sort of Mrs Fields parody blocked by a column

- Mystic Pizza

- Arcane Agne’s

- Phillys Ghoststeaks

- Yarrbucks Coffee

- Build - A - Bugbear (feat one Captain KP Hob!)

- Burrow’s End!!!

- Something cut off. Might be Oodles of Strudel based on the lettering

- Thaco Bell

- Ochre Jellious

- Bards and Nobles Tomevendor

- Armor, Zombies and Lich

[keebwee]

short callum sickfic posted because there NEEDS to be MORE of them. if you write a callum sickfic and/or whump fic tell me and i will draw you a little creature. i need them.... i need them so bad

[thewanderinginn]

10.01 L

The next day, Calescent slowly and reverentially broke an entire stack of spaghetti in half. He tossed the pieces into a pot, then poured in a dram of red wine he’d found to add to the taste.

Then, after closing the door to the kitchen, Calescent added a bulb of peeled garlic to a second pan of sauce. Then another bulb. Then five more.

After some thought, he put ten more bulbs’ worth of garlic into the tomato sauce, some butter, onions, salt, sugar, garlic, and more garlic.

The point was, in Calescent’s opinion, to create the most garlic-flavored sauce possible without ruining the sauce. Or to murder Fierre.

Read More...

[legobiwan]

First chapter of Expiate

Crossposted to Ao3

Super Paper Mario, brotherly angst

~~~~~~~

It has to be a trick, some sleight of hand, some mischief perpetrated by that damned jester and his creepy mask. 

They had fought before. They were brothers, of course they had fought. Rolling around at their father’s feet under a rickety kitchen table, vying for the single plastic wrench from their grungy, second-hand playset. Wrestling each other on a littered baseball field in Dyker Beach Park, old cigarette butts sticking to their clothes. And then there had been the infamous melee in the hallway of St. Ephram’s, lockers thundering with each impact as they threw each other about in a blind rage, the aftermath of Luigi being threatened with expulsion after the incident in religion class.

But now, all he can do is stare as his brother cackles wildly, leaping to the top of an eight-story-high robot, boasting of his spiritual bond with the towering head before jumping into the cockpit, letting loose a stream of scorching lasers. Mario can’t get his limbs to move, can’t form the commands in his brain that would lead him away from this awful scene. And he’s lost the plot somewhere, because now they’re back in space , Luigi’s monstrous creation giving chase to Peach and Squirps, who are hightailing it to the nearest asteroid cluster for cover.

His brother was working for Count Bleck. His brother was trying to end the world.

His brother was trying to kill him.

Mario laughs, his gut convulsing, again and again, each throb stronger than the last. It begins to hurt after a minute, but he can’t stop himself, bobbing up and down in the vast nothingness of space with each pained chortle. 

The terrible discord echoes throughout the glass container fixed on his head, so much so he almost doesn’t hear the shriek as Brobot careens through the nearest nebula, gargantuan amber eyes emerging from starry destruction. Two dark vortices track a direct line his way, pools of malice and motor oil racing through a hazy curtain of glistening starlight and noxious ozone.

This is it, he thinks as the robot’s jaw unhinges, revealing a cavernous maw of angry geared teeth guarding a needle-pointed tongue curled in violent anticipation. The robot’s engines give a mighty roar, the backdraft pushing Mario’s bobbing trajectory in reverse before he feels the pull of a massive inhalation, Brobot sucking dust and asteroids and all kinds of space matter into its dark, alloyed throat. Mario’s survival instinct finally kicks into gear as he flails his limbs in every direction, searching for purchase, any anchor that will save him from being swallowed and digested by his brother’s murderous invention.

It’s too late, though, any hope of survival already halfway down the robot’s hungry gullet. He tries to remember the Prayer of Divine Mercy, one final supplication for forgiveness for both him and his brother, but the words won’t come. Brobot’s breath is searing down his neck when there’s a tug on his overalls, space flipping in all directions as Luigi shoots past him, leaving a trail of half-chewed, calescent detritus in his wake. 

A meaty hand slaps the face of his helmet. 

“Get your head in the game, Red!” Bowser hisses, claws digging into Mario’s upper arm. “This guy and his stupid robot mean business.”

This guy and his stupid robot are now trailing Peach and Squirps through a cluster of squarish mini-moons, jaw still unhooked as Brobot attempts to vacuum everything in its path, obliterating stars, comets, even small planets. It tries to devour Peach, who cuts a hard turn to the right, barely avoiding a fiery exhale, the hem of her skirt blistered and smoking as she clings to brave, little Squirps. Mario doesn’t know if it’s possible to be sick in space, if gravity would lock his disgust in his churning gut. He swallows down the acrid tang of bile, swearing to every saint he can name that whoever’s sick ploy this is, whoever had even a finger to do with what has become of his brother - he will tear them limb from limb while they scream for a mercy Mario will never allow.

It’s a close thing. The robot is good, the man driving it even better, the synthesis of expert engineering guided under a malevolent, deft hand. The three of them huddle under Peach’s impenetrable parasol, volleys of rocket fire bouncing off the shimmering pink fabric, again and again until even the seemingly inviolable shield begins to belch smoke. There’s a lull in the downpour of blaster fire, a small opening, so thin Mario thinks he may need Slim to fit through it. He doesn’t allow himself to think, launching upwards, using a protesting Bowser’s shell as leverage, catapulting himself right to the bulbous antenna of the robot. In quick succession, Mario deals it a thunderous blow, stomping with all his might as the orb finally cracks. He leaves Boomer behind for good measure, the little PIxl seeming to have grasped the gravity of the situation as he ignites with exceptional alacrity. 

The resulting cataclysm sends shards of metal and wiring spraying in all directions, flowers of conflagration blossoming in quick time, a bouquet of iron-wrought carnage.

The elation of victory, the downward rush in the bloodstream, is quickly dispelled. Luigi won’t be emerging from that smoking wreckage unharmed, if he emerges at all. Mario’s heart bounds up his throat, threatening to push his Adam’s apple straight through his skin as he makes to rush towards the remains of the violent creation, which, along with the rest of them, have fallen back into the Whoa Zone, onto solid ground. He’s held back, both arms stuck in a firm grip on either side by Peach (whose wide eyes and tight lips tell him all he needs to know about her knowledge of the situation) and Bowser (who loudly opines that Mario has lost his damn mind). 

Mario can only pray as the smoldering wreckage sends plumes of toxic clouds skyward, can only send entreaties up and down, left and right, into any direction or dimension he can think of that the man in the wreckage is not his brother, that it’s a lie, a mirage. He tells himself they’re back in the gaudy D-Dimension, that maniacal labyrinth of mirrors and deceit, but before he can convince himself of the lie, Mario sees something emerging from what was an amber iris, a peek of green and black. Luigi clambers out of the wreckage. He’s panting, dirty, his tunic and pants ripped and stained. Mario swears he sees a trickle of blood running down a now exposed forearm but Luigi wipes the sweat from his mouth with the back of his arm, giving them a feral smile as he boasts of future victories, allowing for one last verbal swipe at “Mr. Jumpsallthetime” before he opens a dimensional portal and disappears into nothingness.

Mario staggers towards the heap of crumpled metal, left ankle barking with the movement. There’s going to be an ugly trail of bruises come tomorrow, a haphazard map drawn up his left thigh all they way to his back. He pauses under what was once the robot’s mustache, hands going to his knees, catching a breath, then another and another and he can’t stop, in and out, in and out breathing was he always this aware of breathing why can’t he catch his breath he can’t breathe he can’t he can’t he can’t -

A soft hand finds the back of his neck, rubbing gently at the swollen, red skin, another wrapping around his waist, a familiar voice giving hushed instructions. Numbers, it sounds like. One, two, three, four, that’s right, Mario. Now exhale, one, two, three, four. Let’s do it again. One, two, three, four…

Color is the first to bleed back into his reality, the angular, neon scribbles of the Whoa Zone’s floor swirling in Mario’s vision. The rest of the world follows soon after - the stale odor of burnt metal an uneasy mix with the lingering chill of outer space. He shivers. Peach still has him half-wrapped in her soot-stained arms, the hem of her dress ragged and torn, tie-dyed in dark scorch marks. A quick glance across the way reveals a wide-eyed Bowser gaping in their direction and it’s almost funny, Bowser’s toothy gawking, if it weren’t so serious, the truth of their situation being shared in half-whispers between Tippi and Squirps. Questions about the “bad man,” the “creep,” the “evil guy who hurt me,” and it’s that last one that nearly sends Mario back into another spiral, that threatens to unravel his tenuous hold on reality. (His brother beat up a child ).

He focuses on the floor. On the rough denim bunched beneath his fingers. On Peach’s voice, scolding Tippi and Squirps into lowering their voices. 

“Is Squirps okay?” Mario asks in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts (Bad man. Creep. Evil guy. He can’t stop replaying the conversation, a sick, infinite loop woven in braids of guilt and horror. Luigi is the bad guy). Mario’s voice is ragged, hoarse and he’s yet to unlock his hands from his knees, yet to right himself from his bent-over position. 

“He’ll be okay,” Peach answers, still rubbing circles on Mario’s back. “A little sore and a little scared,” she adds after a moment, breaking the massaging rhythm, inserting a rest that lasts a beat too long.

Peach clears her throat. When she speaks again, she almost sounds apologetic. “Maybe he didn’t mean to - “

Mario shoots to full height, ignoring the protests from his aching back, the electric trill shooting up from his battered ankle. He turns to Peach, making a show of patting at least some of the space matter from his overalls. He gives his cap a brief inspection, patting it down as well, sending a miniature plume of dust skyward before replacing it firmly on his head. “We need to move forward,” he says, voice still struggling against smoke-bruised vocal cords. “We can’t get distracted. There’s too much on the line,” he adds, gesturing at the swollen violet wound in the sky. 

Peach’s mouth forms a thin line, her gaze searching Mario, reaching into his thoughts, a fine, taut line of shimmering gold. She says nothing, only giving Mario a shallow nod. She won’t push him on the issue. Not now. Not with so much at stake. 

There will be time to grieve later.

It’s a somber processional to the dimensional portal.

Tippi is already waiting at the threshold, wings flittering in impatience, Squirps curled in on himself on the ground beneath her. Mario trails Peach and Bowser, who exchange hushed words, Bowser throwing an occasional wide-eyed glance in Mario’s direction.

“Did that green jerk land a solid hit or something?” he hears Bowser mutter. “Is that why Red’s acting so weird?”

Peach shakes her head. “He’s fine,” she lies. “He has to be.”

[macmanx]

The mono and front-facing speaker of the Playdate delivers more complex sound and music than one might expect from the retrofuturist handheld. Plug in headphones, though—and yes, you do have to plug them in—and you’re rewarded with lush, CD-quality audio. The experience is shocking.

[sith-shenanigans]

I used @violant-apologia’s fantastic google doc to make a couple of custom items for Amias. Remember, avid gloves are forever, not only for Sacksmas.

[burlveneer-music]

Elyvilon - Full Moon Over Yuletide Eve - a dungeon synth Christmas album

Those glorious days of summer, once boundless, are now but a distant memory. The once-unassailable walls of the sunlit kingdom are now battered and crumbling, pushed back each day as the night creeps in and Old Man Winter breathes frost upon the land. As Hati, slavering, pursues that great flaming chariot further and further over the horizon. In these days darkness reigns, and the candle's flame is but a solitary mote ensconced in the ever-encroaching night. In such a time, Man and Beast alike are besieged in their hovels, breath snatched away by the keening northern winds. And yet, a lone beacon betwixt darkness and frost begets that much brighter a flame, against it all. And in much the same way, amidst the nadir of hivernal despair the human spirit shines brightest as well. What better time to celebrate mirth, levity, and the indomitability of the Questing Soul than in the face of the night's greatest triumph? The darkest night of the year is here. The night wind drifts by, punctuated by scant snowflakes and a breath's dwindling mist. Off in the distance the village lies, hazy, bathed in by the candles' calescent glow, as joyous flame dances upon the blanketing snow, pines drawn in close all around. The Julbock stamps, package-laden and woolly, bells chiming softly amidst the snow-deadened air, the notes mixing with the sweet sound of a choir drifting up from the village below. Under the silvery sheen of the watching moon the Julbock sets off into the snow... it's time to deliver some joy. It's time we celebrated. It's time we stood, defiant in good cheer against the surrounding night. All tracks written and performed on synthesizer by Elyvilon, as the candles burnt low all around him. Mixed and mastered at Raydon Studio. Cover art by Nils Mosimann. A mighty thank you to TheOnlyDanol for his performance on Good King Wenceslas.

[echo-rambles]

I'm far too proud of what I just wrote not to share it. when I said the minsung companion piece was going to have more angst than calescent I meant it

-o0o-

There's something about them that's always felt inevitable. Which is a ridiculous sort of idea, seeing as how Minho had never really given the concept of soulmates more than a passing thought until Jisung was the one joking about it. 

Wearing one of Minho's shirts and saying do you think we could be soulmates? with a scrunch of his nose. 

As if that sight alone wasn't going to rewire the pathways of Minho's brain forever. 

They’re inevitable, inseparable, two magnets constantly drawn together. Best friends. Soulmates, he thinks, with a twist in his heart.

Close but never close enough.

As inevitable as they are, it feels almost impossible to take that extra step. To cross the imaginary boundary between them and make it into something more. They're best friends, things are fine exactly how they are, why fuck it up with romance. 

They’re perfect. What they have is perfect. They wear the same clothes, they eat the same food, they sleep in the same bed any time they spend the night in the same space. Nothing needs to change. Jisung can say that they’re soulmates, wearing Minho’s shirt and playing with Minho’s cats and eating Minho’s food, and that can be enough. 

Compromises can be made, like not kissing him every single time he breathes, if it means that they can stay perfect.