#i will pay whatever it costs to have a decent run of this to not be breaking my heart on their bs in isolation anymore jeepers

[decolonize-the-left]

Okay so as a non-American, i'm curious: what's the deal with Biden v Trump? How did it end up with only these two if everyone hates them so fucking much? If there are only two candidates, and neither are votable, what are people supposed to do on election day? Do you have a way of annulating the vote such that it doesn't just go to the candidate with the most votes? Or are you planning to just not vote and pay the fee? Wait, is voting even compulsory over there? If it isn't, are you just gonna not vote? Would that be better? Or is there some mysterious 3rd candidate no one's mentioned?

Dems & Republicans the only parties with ballot access because they're the only parties with money. They have money because they serve the interests of corporations, shareholders, etc.

Non-democrat and non-republican parties have limited ballot access across the 50 states and in order to get on the ballots, they have to meet whatever the standards are for ballot access in each individual state. Sometimes it's automatic, sometimes they need petitions, sometimes they need a Lot more than that. And doing all that costs money which again, a lot of them don't have.

If you don't have ballot access in all 50 states then you are at a risk of losing. You see, each state has a designated number of delegates. You need a certain amount to win. Some states have over 100 delegates. If you don't have ballot access in all 50 states then you NEED to win more delegates in the states you do have just to keep up.

This is why most people are stuck voting democrat or Republican even if we don't want to. And it's why we're told they're the more "realistic" choices.

That said, tere are several Really Decent 3rd parties running and I intend to vote for Jasmine Sherman if she's on my ballot in November. She is an AMAZING candidate if you ask me. Not perfect, but leagues ahead of our other options.

HOWEVER. Do to more bullshit, my vote won't matter as the state I'm in sends their delegates to whoever the majority of the state votes for... Which will likely be Biden.

Also Biden is only the nominee of democrats at the moment. He is not the only democrat running. The Democratic party does hold a Primary Vote to determine who will be the official nominee. Democrats have Very Shitty options this year. None are as shitty and violent as Biden, but- actually idk why they don't just vote for someone else. They could absolutely vote for a different democratic nominee.

The primaries are happening right now though, and it doesn't seem like that will happen.

Republicans do the same thing. Trump is running as Republican and like Biden, is expected to win the primary.

The winners of the primary are who people have a choice to elect for president in November.

Hence why our options are Biden v Trump.

Other 3rd party candidates will hold their own primaries (if the party they're in has more than one person running).

Again tho, there is no guarantee that they will be on the ballot in every state.

I personally don't know if annulating a vote is even possible.

Voting is not compulsory & there is no fee for not voting.

It's also not entirely accessible and every year democrats and Republicans fuck with voter boundaries and cut more polling places which makes voting take like ALL DAY if there's only one poll near you that needs to serve your region. God forbid you're disabled or elderly and want to cast a vote in a place like that..

TLDR: Our entire voting system is absolute trash and intentionally complicated to keep the capitalist two main parties in power.

#asked #answered #god the USA fucking sucks #vote #voting

[devildomwriter]

One Little Thing, A Ring Part III | Mammon x Reader

.6K Words | GN Reader | CW: Angst

With Lucifer’s help, a wardrobe change, and strict instructions, Mammon had landed a decent paying gig. The only place that would hire him was the Demon Lord’s Castle and Mammon had his work cut out.

Barbatos delighted in putting Mammon to work as much as possible. He and Diavolo knew why Mammon was there and as two men who’d also competed for your heart, they were going to make Mammon work for you. It was meant to be educational but it was also for their own satisfaction as some sense of revenge.

“I still don’t understand. Why Mammon?” Diavolo asked Lucifer as they sipped on their tea and watched Mammon prune the roses from the balcony.

“___ has peculiar taste.” Lucifer complained.

“Careful Mammon, that’s our favorite bush,” Barbatos called down to him and Mammon audibly panicked and with trembling hands started carefully trimming branches down one by one.

“Must you tease him?” Lucifer asked and Barbatos grinned.

“I must, yes. ___ deserves nothing less than perfect so we must ensure that that is what they receive. If we cannot give that to them, we must make sure Mammon does.”

Diavolo nodded in agreement with his butler and paused after taking another sip. “You know…they could always be interested in polygamy. If not now then later down the road. Surely Mammon as entertaining as he can be can’t provide for them like any of us could.”

Lucifer nodded and sipped his tea. “I agree. Thanks to their magic they’ll live a very long time. We must be patient, that’s all.”

Diavolo nodded but Lucifer could notice the small shake as he set the tea down gently. Everyone reacted in their own ways to your relationship with Mammon and Diavolo did his best to bottle it up but sometimes he couldn’t help small moments of sadness or anger slipping through.

The labor intensive work he was putting Mammon through was one example. Mammon wasn’t aware of it but Diavolo intended to pay whatever the cost may be for the ring Mammon thought best for you. Diavolo wouldn’t allow you to be disappointed.

“Speaking of ___, where are they right now?” Barbatos inquired as he kept his eye trained on Mammon who was attempting to use hedge clippers.

“I believe they’re doing some kind of job with the sorcerer’s association.”

“Taking on odd jobs?” Diavolo asked, curious.

Lucifer shrugged, “they aren’t talking much about it. They’re very tired by the time they come home. Not only do they have work but then they must portal themselves into another dimension and do it all again in a few hours.”

“Mm…it’s odd they’d take on a job like that considering they can do essentially anything they wanted to,” Diavolo speculated and it stayed silent as they listened to Mammon panic as he stumbled upon a nest of Hellfire Wasps.

“Oh dear…I suppose I ought to call for the exterminator,” Barbatos sighed. “Perhaps Mammon could work.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. “No. Call a professional before the situation worsens.” Lucifer advised but truly he was worried Mammon would get stung to hell and as much as he was jealous right now, he wasn’t going to let Barbatos and Diavolo thrust Mammon into agonizing danger.

Diavolo knew that’s why Lucifer made the suggestion and relented for his friend’s sake. “That’s most advisable,” he nodded and Lucifer relaxed into his chair as he heard Mammon screaming and running across the yard.

Mammon was fast enough to escape but began crashing into things in the process. Lucifer glanced at Barbatos who was eying him exasperatedly.

“Send the bill later.”

Barbatos nodded, “I could deduct it from his pay.”

Lucifer waved his hand in disagreement, “just send the bill.”

Just as Lucifer began feeling bad for Mammon, Mammon scaled the wall and used Lucifer as a shield against the wasps. The wasps were instantly vaporized from Lucifer’s magic as he tore Mammon a new one for leading dangerous creatures straight to the prince.

Part I • Part II • Part IV • Part V

#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me story #one little thing series #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me angst #obey me 25 days of christmas #25 days of obey me christmas

[internet-sadass]

A Little Something In Pink (David x female reader)

Blurb: You buy David a Valentine's gift based off something he said whilst drunk. Honestly, it's the best gift you could have got him.

(AKA you give David the gift of getting pegged for Valentine's Day)

Warnings: smut, pegging, anal fingering, mild femdom, established relationship

A/N: I really really love David atm and I guess I felt like writing something kinda valentine's day themed so here you go *throws this fic at you*

Also, I sprinkled in my random little headcanon that David is vegan :) for literally no reason, just felt like it.

It was stereotypical, cliché, and very unimaginative, but David figured it would make you smile, even if you rolled your eyes while you did so. He leaned forward to look through the selection of single roses in an old blue bucket outside a run-down corner shop. The flowers looked a little worse for wear, having endured a full day of being displayed on a busy side walk, the petals darkening and curling at the edges, their texture turning from plush and pliable to rigid and brittle. David’s pale fingers finally wrapped around the conveniently de-thorned stem of the least haggard-looking rose. It cost him $1.50. 

David got you a rose for Valentine’s Day. Well, a rose and his presence for an evening, since he’d just about managed to move his shifts around so he wasn’t returning home in the small hours of the morning. Having your boyfriend home before three a.m. was a gift enough in itself. 

The rose sat in a freshly emptied wine bottle, the heaviness of its own flower making it loll to the side as if it were sleepy. Still, despite the rose looking as tired as David did (you noted how the eye bags he had never went away; they merely lightened once he managed to get a day off or a half-decent night’s sleep), it was a sweet touch. The presence of the flower on the table between the two of you as you shared the vegan mushroom risotto you’d cooked up made this evening feel more romantic, less ‘normal’ and routine. Something about being given a rose, even a battered one, made something twist inside you. It was a classic, albeit predictable, romantic gesture.

Somehow, the softness of David’s action had made you feel ashamed for what you’d got him. You wondered if maybe he’d feel used or disgusted when he saw it, considering that he bought you something so purely romantic and innocent. People bought their partners those types of gifts for Valentine’s Day a lot, sure, but now it seemed utterly crude to conclude the evening with something like that. The idea of presenting your gift, which happened to be the most garish shade of neon pink you’d ever seen thanks to a mix-up with your order, made you want to throw away said gift and never think of it again. 

Well, he did mention it that one time, You thought, absently watching David move his hand to cover yours, and he seemed pretty into it when he did mention it.

—

Three weeks ago, David had got drunk. Not in a ‘drown my sorrows’ way, more in a ‘this is my one day off with my girlfriend, let’s have a few drinks and watch terrible horror movies’ kind of way. The problem was that David was a lightweight. He ended up curled next to you, head on your lap, cheeks rosy, and his rambling sentences coming out slurred. You were tipsy but still had enough of your rational brain present to be able to remember what came out of his mouth. 

He said your name, then paused.

“M’yeah?” You responded, stroking some of his hair off his forehead. He looked cute like this, totally at ease and vulnerable.

“You ever, like, fuck a guy?” His brows furrowed as if getting his words out took tremendous effort, his mouth not cooperating with his brain. 

“Obviously, since I’ve fucked you.” You replied with a laugh. 

David shook his head in your lap, grinning.

“No, like, fucked a guy. Up his ass.”

There was a pause, filled only by the sound of the TV playing whatever B-list horror flick neither of you was paying attention to.

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Can you?” The grin never wavered, any normal sense of embarrassment well and truly beyond him in his current drunk state.

“If I bought a strap on, then I guess so, yeah.” Your answer was accompanied by a shrug. Of course, it was possible for any woman to fuck a guy (or girl, for that matter) with the right equipment.

“But like, if you had a strap-on, would you fuck me ?” He pointed at himself in an exaggerated action.

“You want me to?” Again, you shrugged as you spoke, trying to hide your surprise. Sure, David did like you to be the dominant one sometimes, but you never thought it went beyond him just enjoying seeing you on top rather than under him. 

“Mm…would be like sooo hot.” He said, closing his eyes and stretching before sitting up, holding his head as the room started to spin around him. He kissed sloppily along your neck and up your jaw. “Want you to fuck me so bad, ‘s that weird?”

The kisses paused, and you met David’s unfocused gaze. There was a hint of worry somewhere in the drunken murk of his eyes.

“Not weird.” You answered, whispering against his lips before kissing again. “I’d kinda be into it too.”

—

You were ripped out of replaying that drunken conversation by David asking you if you wanted a beer. He’d collected up the dirty plates and was watching you, expectedly. Not really present, you said yes and watched him walk over to the sink, leaving you to dwell on the gift you had waiting for him in your room.

I’ll see where things go, you thought, watching him search for a bottle opener in the disorganized cutlery drawer. 

***

If David bit his lip any harder, he’d split it. The last thing he needed was a split lip to add to the adornment of hickies decorating his neck, chest, and upper thighs, else he’d had to listen to nurses whispering about him at work for the next week. A weak groan left his mouth when you propped his leg up over your hip, the head of the strap-on brushing against his well-lubed hole. You’d dedicated a solid ten minutes to working him open, your mouth leaving love bites on his thighs as you eased two fingers into him, watching his stiff cock twitch and tense as you scissored inside him. The last thing you’d wanted was for him was to be in pain the first time his drunken fantasy turned into a reality.

Wrapping a hand around the plastic shaft, you guided the head of the strap-on into David, who gave a high-pitched gasp as it pushed past his rim and into his heat. It felt freezing inside him, not least because of the generous amount of lube glazing the toy's surface. He’d done anal once before with a guy he met at a bar, but he’d been too drunk to really register the pain of being stretched. Right now, he was confronting it face-on, his fingers curling into the sheets as you eased the length of plastic into him, removing your hand and letting your hips do the rest of the work.

“Fuck…” He moaned, looking down at his weeping cock and where the bright pink plastic disappeared into him, a bead of sweat rolling down from his hairline and dripping off the tip of his nose onto the pale expanse of his chest. 

 You pressed a kiss to his neck, leaning over him, gripping the leg that was raised over your hip. He looked utterly delectable right now.

“Can I move now, or do you need some more time?” As much as you wanted to have him whimpering and unable to stop himself from spilling all over his belly, you didn’t want to rush the whole process or injure him by being too enthusiastic.

David gave a nod, leaning himself back onto the bed. He wanted to imprint the way you looked right now, looming over him, your hair falling about your shoulders, strands sticking to your sweating skin, the leather straps of the strap-on accentuating the plushness of your hips. The way you looked now was far better than what he’d pictured in his mind's eye as he masturbated furiously to the thought of you fucking him like this. 

The action of thrusting was far harder than you imagined, and you had a newfound respect for David, considering he regularly fucked you with steady, deep strokes with no signs of exhaustion, minus some panting. Even if it was hard to angle and move your hips in the right motion, the sounds you were wringing out of the man below you gave you bottomless motivation to keep rocking your hips into him, alternating between quick snaps and longer, slower strokes. Depending on your pace, David would whine or moan, sometimes just staring at you, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, mouth open in a silent cry as you fucked him far better than that guy at the bar had done. 

Something within you possessed you to get David into a position you’d fantasized him putting you in. It’d let you get deeper than you could with him on his back, even with his leg lifted up over your hip as it was right then. If anything, you just wanted to see if you could make this feel even better for him and get him to make more of those beautifully pathetic sounds. Throwing caution and your inexperience to the wind, you shifted yourself slightly, ceasing your thrusting for a moment, trying to figure out how exactly to reposition yourself and David into a mating press. 

With your knees on either side of his hips, you brought David’s legs up over your own hips, folding him into the position you wanted him in. It felt a little cruel to be manhandling your boyfriend in such a manner, but he was planting desperate kisses on any area of your skin he could reach as you did so, so you figured he didn’t care about you arranging him like he were a lifeless mannequin. He didn’t protest or question what you were doing, only looked up at you with dark eyes, his lips shining and his pale face flushed. You kissed the tip of his nose before rolling your hips, forcing the head of the strap-on to press up against his prostate. He hissed in response, clawing at the bed, arching off it until the flat of his chest pressed against the softness of your breasts, cursing. That was all the confirmation you needed that this position was serving its purpose of making your boyfriend feel like he was in heaven and keeping him moaning and squirming under you. 

Repeating the action over and over, David’s legs bounced in time with your thrusts as he clung onto you, mumbling curses and pet names as you made him see stars with each motion of your hips. Not once had you heard his voice get that high-pitched, that whispery and yearning, and you were certain you could orgasm just from the sounds he was making. Each whine or whimper made your clit ache. Even when you kissed him, he kept on moaning, his pleas for you to keep going, keep on fucking him, muffled against your lips.

With a few more harsh pistons of your hips, you felt David grip your arms, his nails biting into your skin, leaving little red crescents imprinted in your flesh.

“A-hahhh…sh-shit.” 

The noise David made as he came, spurting messily between your stomach and his, was as pathetic as the way in which his eyes rolled into the back of his head as his orgasm consumed him. He kept whining and gasping as his balls emptied themselves, the spurts of semen coming from his slit getting weaker as his body gave all it had left. As you continued to fuck him through his orgasm, the seed smeared across your skin, almost burning hot, and you could feel the way his cock pulsed as it pumped out the last of its load. You finally ceased moving when you noticed how limply he was lying, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he came down from his high, eyes shut and his dark lashes fanned against his cheeks. Sliding the toy out of him, you sat back on your ankles, undoing the straps to free yourself from it. 

***

Eventually, the pair of you crawled under the covers together, still sweaty and slightly sticky from the lube. Neither of you felt like getting cleaned up right that instant, instead opting to delay the issue of showering until the morning. You rested your head against David’s chest, his fingers combing through your hair, moving it off your face. 

“That was…a really considerate gift.” He finally spoke, feeling a tad embarrassed to say anything after he’d just been moaning like a whore whilst you fucked him with a vibrant pink sex toy less than ten minutes ago. “Can’t believe you remembered me saying about that. To be honest, I can barely remember saying it.”

“Well, I’d hardly forget the time my boyfriend confessed to me that he’d like me to fuck him up the ass.” You said, turning your head so you could look up at him, grinning. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head but smiling, bemused by your comment. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” David said, rubbing your bare arm. 

#david saw 0.5 #saw 0.5 #david saw 0.5 x reader #david saw 0.5 x reader smut #david saw 0.5 smut #david saw 0.5 fanfic #leigh whannell #leigh whannell x reader #leigh whannell x reader smut #saw fanfic #saw franchise #saw movies #sawposting #saw #saw smut #saw x reader #saw imagines #david saw 0.5 imagine

[compusever]

Hi there! Bit of a weird question, and I’m not sure if this is the right blog for this, but… best laptop for privacy? I’m going to go to uni in a year and my parents have said that they’re going to buy me a laptop, which is awesome, except— I don’t know which one to chose? I’ve never had a laptop before but I try to take being private online as seriously as I can, and so I don’t really care… well, like, I do care that the laptop has good storage and works and stuff, but I care mostly about how private it is. Which one supports adding privacy-related stuff the best? Which one steals your data the least? I… am actually not sure what kind of questions I should be asking, since… again, never had a laptop before, and I don’t know what about its make makes it private (other than like general online privacy practices across all devices), so I was just wondering if you had any recommendations for me? Tldr: don’t care about fancy features, just want a laptop that more or less works, but would love privacy to be the main focus. This can sort of come at the expense of convenience - I don’t care it if’s harder to set up, use, etc., so long as I can connect to the internet with it.

So the hardware is pretty agnostic on this, the place where privacy is going to become an issue is in the software.

Windows loves to track you and send your data back to homebase; Apple is a walled garden that doesn't let people get deep into configurations; linux is intimidating for a lot of people.

Your actual best bet on privacy would be to get a laptop with no OS and install a linux distro on it, but it sounds like that's probably not something that's terribly approachable for you. So in that case I'd recommend getting a Windows laptop (mac prices aren't worth it) and going through this list to change the settings to ensure better privacy.

HOWEVER please note that you should be getting a laptop with a full OS. Windows has an option for "windows 11s" or "windows 10s" and first off you should be going with 11 at this point but second that "s" means that there are pretty strict limitations on what you can do as a user in terms of configuration and installation.

If you are willing to pay a bit more for Windows 11 Pro instead of windows 11 Home, the pro license cuts off some of the more annoying tracking that Windows does automatically, but I'd say you're better off simply getting the home license and really digging into the settings and getting to know it and setting it up for yourself.

BUT if it's at all possible, honestly I'd say get a bare metal laptop (that means it's just the hardware, no software, you need to install an operating system before you do anything) and install linux. HOWEVER keep in mind that there are some significant downsides to using linux as a student, mostly that you'll likely run into software at some point that you won't be able to install. Also if you're not already pretty good with computers it can be difficult to keep a linux machine running (but very easy to make it private; that's the tradeoff - you can make it more secure more easily, but you really have to know how to fix your own computer if something goes wrong.)

For your situation, again, I think a Windows 11 Home laptop with the settings adjusted is your best bet.

Absolutely positively don't get a chromebook (you've got no control of the settings on a chromebook and the thing is made to feed information to google) and don't get a mac (you can get better specs on a PC at a lower cost).

For an idea of budget on this, I'd say you can probably get something from Dell, Lenovo, or HP for around $650-1000 dollars that's got decent specs (12th gen or newer i5 processor, 16gb RAM, 512GB SSD) and maybe something more like $500-800 from acer, asus, or samsung. Whatever computer you end up getting, you should get the added drop protection warranty because that means the manufacturer will fix your laptop if you drop it, something that is a bigger deal for college students than most people (because of your environment you're more likely to end up with drop damage than a lot of people AND because you're a college student you probably won't be able to afford to fix or replace the computer)

Good luck!

[carboardserpent]

More Chick headcanons

(Because I can't help myself, I'm obsessed)

Relationship edition

(Humanised, of course)

Definitely giving closeted bi vibes. Probably with a good amount of internalised homophobia. As if he needs any more reasons to hate himself.

He walks that knife edge between hot-confident flirting and being too arrogant and often falls on the wrong side.

He's really not very good at the flirting thing - when people recognise him, they don't often want to give him the time of day, and when they don't, his false bravado is often enough of a red flag to scare people away.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again; gift-giving is his love language.

This guy is sitting on at LEAST eight figures in his bank account. Whatever his Baby wants, they get.

Takes them on shopping sprees literally any excuse he gets. He just wants to see them happy!

The kind of guy to fall hopelessly in love fast and hard, and make all kinds of cheesy, cliche declarations of adoration.

Gives people who watch his show little updates. "It's our anniversary soon, been thinking about what to get." "It's date night tonight, and you know what that means ;) ...dinner. It means dinner." "My other half said the funniest thing today..." etc.

'Baby' is his favourite pet name. Will occasionally fall back on 'Sugar' or 'Gorgeous'.

The sweetest guy behind closed doors. He will bend over backwards to see his SO smile. Never in public, he has an image to uphold, but in private? You are not prepared for the tooth-rotting sweetness of this man.

...because he's absolutely terrified that his partner is going to leave him. As far as he's concerned, he's not good enough for them, and he definitely doesn't deserve to be happy.

So selfless in his relationship that he needs to be reminded to think about what HE needs occasionally.

A break up or a divorce is just another kind of loss, and that isn't "winning at all costs". It doesn't matter if he's not happy, as long as his SO is.

Yeah, he has a lot of emotional baggage and really needs someone who can help support him through some much-needed therapy.

Wants to have kids but absolutely crippled with fear at the idea that he might turn into his father.

There are lots of nasty rumours circulating on the internet about how he probably treats his partner poorly. He tries not to let them get to him, but if anything, it makes him even sweeter and all the more caring in private.

Can and will space out frequently while staring into his (massive) tropical fish tank. He often gets upset about what's running through his head in those moments and needs to be reminded that he's loved and appreciated.

Cuddle bug. Cannot sleep unless he's practically smothering his SO in a full-body hug at all times. Get this man a body pillow. No, not a weird one.

Runs so hot. Human heater. Combined with the cuddling, if his partner doesn't run cold, there's gonna be issues.

Messy guy. Dirty laundry all over the floor, chaotic work spaces, probably the kind of guy to leave a mug somewhere and forget about it for months and end up having to throw it away. But it's okay because he pays a maid to take care of all that.

Definitely no gourmet chef, but he can cook some surprisingly decent (and healthy) home style meals. Just don't look at the kitchen after he's done.

#please get him some therapy PLEASE #I'll throw hands if you think he's as shallow as he pretends to be don't test me #he makes me violent #chick hicks #pixar cars #cars 3 #cars fandom #cars pixar #disney cars #cars 2006 #Cringe is dead you cant judge me for any of this

[sesamestreep]

New Taylor Swift prompts! 16, Matt/Foggy

16. I’ve missed you all this time (from this prompt list) I don't know what this is, but it's technically set in the 60s, even though I did not make that explicitly clear anywhere in the text and it serves no purpose beyond just...vibes. I mostly just wanted to write silly new year’s fic, don’t worry about historical accuracy or world-building, everyone be cool! happy 2024, you silly and sultry geese! on ao3 here 🥂✨

Matt can still hear the noise of the party, barely dampened even when he's several rooms removed. He’d be able to hear it from the lobby of the building, truth be told, but here he can still make out conversations without having to focus that hard. He tries to direct his senses somewhere else—somewhere with less overlapping chatter and clinking glasses and shuffling feet over plush carpets—and breathe deep, so that maybe he can regain some equilibrium and hopefully go back to the party in a few minutes and act normal. It’s almost midnight, after all, and who goes to a New Year’s Eve party just to ditch out before midnight?

“Matthew Augustus Murdock,” a voice calls out from the far end of the paneled hallway.

“Not my middle name,” Matt says, smiling, “as you already know.”

“But wouldn’t it be better if it was?” Foggy asks, as he slides down to sit next to Matt. 

“Yes, I imagine I’d have lived a much easier and more successful life, if only my middle name was…what was it again?”

“Albert,” Foggy says, “or something. Who cares?”

“Good point,” Matt says, pressing his shoulder into Foggy’s happily. “How’d you find me?”

“I used the one and only superpower God graced me with: I’m like a homing pigeon for you specifically. I always know where to find you. It’s eerie, frankly, and damned useless, but—“

“Not to me,” Matt interjects, too readily. “I mean, for what it’s worth.”

Foggy nods, his overly long hair that he keeps meaning to get cut rasping over his shirt's stiff collar as he does. “That’s a good point.”

“I make those occasionally.”

“Occasionally,” Foggy repeats in a comically shrill, tiny voice, like he’s doing an impression of a cartoon mouse, for whatever reason. He’s a little drunk, clearly, which Matt could tell from the way he’s talking and the way he’s moving and the way he smells and, well, that’s probably enough evidence. 

“If I’m ever in trouble, I know who to call,” Matt says, which is maybe too honest, but Foggy doesn’t have to know that.

“You wouldn’t even have to call, Matt,” Foggy replies, solemnly grasping his shoulder. “If you’re ever in trouble, I’ll know and I’ll come running.”

“I would pay real money to see you actually run anywhere.”

“You’d have to, my man. I imagine it would take a massive breakthrough in science for you to see anything at all, and those things tend to cost a pretty penny,” Foggy says, grandly. “And also, on a much more serious note, go fuck yourself.”

Matt laughs and collapses against Foggy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just know how much you hate running.”

“Which means you’ve entirely missed the inherent capital-R romanticism of me offering to do it for you! Classic Murdock. Absolute philistine behavior. I should expect it by now.”

“Your gallantry is wasted on me,” Matt agrees, still doing that thing of being too honest.

“I know,” Foggy sighs, theatrically, “and yet, here I am.”

“Why are you here, anyway?”

“Missed you, came looking. Same as ever.”

“Aw,” Matt says, leaning into his side even more. “You’re right, I really don’t deserve you.”

“I never said that. You said that,” Foggy says, poking him. “But anyway, I lied and the real answer to your question is that I got tired of girls coming up to me and asking where my handsome friend had got to.”

Matt knows two things with a decent degree of certainty: Foggy hadn’t been lying when he gave his first answer (Matt would have heard it in his heartbeat and likely noticed any other number of tells that Foggy has when he does lie, besides) and that no one would have had to ask him to go looking for Matt after he disappeared. His joke about homing pigeon-like tendencies is more truthful than either of them would like to acknowledge. When Matt goes missing—as he very frequently does at these types of things—Foggy always comes to find him. Matt’s been doing this since way before he met Foggy—having overly heightened senses does not make crowded social functions more manageable in general—but he can probably admit that he does it more now that he knows someone will come looking for him.

He also knows that girls like Foggy a lot more than Foggy thinks they do. He’s always talking about how girls seek him out to get in with Matt, but Matt doesn’t really believe that. There have been a few girls, here and there, certainly enough that Foggy’s right to be a little paranoid about it, who have turned their sights from Foggy to Matt, which on top of being unkind is just bad business sense. Anyone with a brain in their head would see that Foggy’s the better option of the two of them. And Matt’s got plenty of flaws, but he’d certainly never take up with anyone who hurt his best friend, so it doesn’t work out the way anyone hopes it will, anyway, when they do. Still, he's sure Foggy could have found a nice girl to keep him entertained until Matt got back to the party, if he put his mind to it, and that maybe he'd just been looking for an excuse to duck out himself when someone asked about Matt.

“This is where I got to,” Matt says, with a slightly pathetic shrug.

“Who says I meant you?” Foggy asks, absently. “I have other friends that are handsomer than you!”

“Not only do you not have a single handsomer friend in all the world,” Matt says, belatedly unsure if ‘handsomer’ is even a word, but otherwise too confident to turn back, “you don’t even have another friend at this party.”

“I’m exceedingly charming, Matthew,” Foggy over-enunciates. “Everyone at this party is my new best friend.”

Matt loops his arm through Foggy’s and leans his head back against the wall. “Sounds like I’ve got a lot of competition.”

“You’re not having fun?” Foggy asks, the change of topic so sudden and his tone so unexpectedly serious that Matt has a brief moment of confusion that he means with this joke they’ve got going. It takes a second to realize he means at the party in general.

“It’s fancy.”

“Too fancy, you mean…”

“You know I don’t go in for all this stuff,” Matt says, shrugging. 

“Like I do, you mean?” Foggy asks, lightly, even though Matt can feel him warming with embarrassment. 

“Like I used to,” Matt clarifies, and trusts his meaning to be clear.

“Right,” Foggy says, and the tone in his voice is the one he uses exclusively when he refers to Matt’s ex-girlfriend from junior year who almost caused him to drop out. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

“You can head back. Really, I don’t mind. I just need a few more minutes.”

“No, you’re right. It’s…a bit stuffy, isn’t it?” Foggy muses. “I mean, I didn’t even know people still had apartments like this, outside of, well, the Rockefellers.” 

The apartment belongs to the parents of one of their friends from law school and the only reason they have free rein over the place is because the parents are vacationing in Aspen with friends. Even without being able to see it, Matt can tell it’s a swanky place. The rug he’s currently sitting on is so plush that he can basically sink his entire hand into it. Every table he passed on his way to this hiding place smelled so strongly of Pine-Sol that there has to be a maid on staff, if not a team of them. He’s fairly certain this random hallway he discovered is actually a back passage to the kitchens, so the servants don’t have to be seen coming and going. He's not sure if he asked their host about it that they'd even know it existed. And Matt’s shoes, as well as most of his clothes, are secondhand.

“You were having fun until I made you feel bad,” Matt says, tucking his chin onto Foggy’s shoulder and trying to look contrite.

“No, I mean—I like having you around, Matt. You keep me honest,” Foggy laughs. “Two and a half years of law school, four years at an Ivy before that, I think I’ve just made peace with having to go to parties in uncomfortable clothes and to make conversation with people I don’t really like. I don’t think I’d call it fun, but it’s a social life of some kind, I suppose.”

“We should have gone to Josie’s,” Matt says, holding onto him too tightly, even with the excuse of a few drinks.

Foggy snorts, thinking of the beloved dive bar they sneak off to in Hell’s Kitchen whenever they can, whenever they’re home. It’s only a matter of blocks to get there, but sometimes, at school, it feels farther away than all that.

“I don’t dare imagine the caliber of our prospects for a kiss at midnight there,” Foggy says, with an exaggerated shudder.

“Can’t be any worse than our prospects here,” Matt replies. 

Foggy whistles, low, under his breath. “You’re going to be disappointing a lot of nice girls with that kind of talk, Murdock!”

“Better to disappoint them now than later,” Matt says, fully burying his face in Foggy’s shoulder now. He gets like this when he drinks. Foggy's used to it.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t do the whole ‘going steady’ thing anymore,” Foggy says, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re too damaged and that means you’re never going to get married, so you’d rather not lead anyone on.”

“You say that like it’s not true,” Matt whispers back.

“It isn’t true, you moron!” Foggy laughs. “One day, some beautiful girl is going to turn your head so quick, you’ll have neck problems for the rest of your life!”

“Sounds uncomfortable,” Matt says.

“And I’ll be there,” Foggy continues, like Matt didn’t even speak, “laughing.”

“Well, as long as you’ll be there, Foggy.”

“Did I mention you’re a moron?”

“Yes. A few times now, in fact.”

“Then, I’ve done my duty.”

“And what about you?” Matt asks. “When’s somebody going to turn your head?”

“Somebody turns my head every goddamn day, it feels like,” Foggy grumbles. “The problem isn’t my head. It’s everybody else’s.”

“There’s plenty of girls who’d be more than happy to trap you in matrimony.”

“Hmm, well, I’m sure that’s true enough,” Foggy replies, thoughtfully. “I guess it’s more about finding someone you wouldn’t mind being trapped with.”

“And you haven’t found her yet, I take it?”

“No,” Foggy says, sadly. The girl he dated for most of their sophomore year—the one everyone had been certain Foggy was going to end up marrying—had just gotten engaged last month. Foggy still wasn’t entirely over it, Matt was pretty sure.

“And you’re certain she’s not here?” Matt asks, encouragingly.

“Unlikely,” Foggy says. “None of the girls here would be caught dead with me in the daylight. One of them might be unscrupulous enough to let me kiss her at midnight, though.”

“So, go back,” Matt replies. “Find the girl in that room with the lowest standards and lay one on her!”

“I will if you will.”

“I don’t know this for sure, but I do have serious doubts that any girl in the room will let the both of us kiss her at midnight.”

“I meant, you should—you know what I meant!” Foggy exclaims, embarrassed again. 

“I was trying to be funny!”

“‘Trying’ being the operative word there…”

Matt sighs. “What’s the point of kissing someone at midnight when there’s almost no chance of seeing them ever again after tonight?”

“You’ve just described the point yourself! It’s just for fun, to start the year off right! There’s no pressure!” Foggy says, disbelieving. "What’s gotten into you? I thought zero expectations romance was your specialty!”

“Maybe I’m just not a New Year's kind of guy.”

Foggy hums thoughtfully. “Can I tell you my theory?”

“Your theory? About what?”

“About you, and New Year's, and all of that.”

“Oh. Sure. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re afraid,” Foggy says.

“Afraid?” Matt asks. “Of…New Year’s Eve?”

“You don’t want to participate in these silly little rituals, like kissing someone at midnight, because you’re secretly terrified that something good is going to happen to you, and then you won’t know what to do with yourself.”

“Really, Foggy. Be serious!”

“I am serious,” Foggy replies, casually. “You’re scared of being hit over the head with it again.”

“Hit over the head with what?”

“Love,” Foggy says, simply. “You felt it once and it nearly derailed your whole life, so now you avoid any situation where you might accidentally meet someone interesting or have more feelings than you’ve carefully rationed out for yourself for that particular day.”

Matt swallows, feeling utterly exposed. It’s not something he would have been able to say for himself an hour ago, but the words feel true to him coming from someone else. He doesn’t like anybody knowing him well enough to know all of that, though, and if it wouldn’t be so utterly obvious, he’d pull away from Foggy right now just to be safe. Like that would even help, he thinks reluctantly.

“You missed your calling not going into psychiatry, Foggy,” he says, stiffly, once he’s gathered his wits enough to form sentences.

Foggy’s hand, warm and a little damp, closes over Matt’s where it’s still resting on his arm. Matt wants nothing more than to flinch away from it, but he controls the urge in the interest of saving face.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Foggy says, quietly, like there’s a chance they might be overheard somehow and he wants Matt to be the only one who hears this. “I’m just trying to tell you that, in avoiding fun and frivolous things, you are not sparing yourself from being hit over the head. If you’re meant to get hit over the head, it’ll happen whenever and wherever Cupid so chooses. It’ll happen at the deli or the bank or while you’re waiting for the bus. Which means that the only thing you’re ultimately sparing yourself from is fun and frivolity, and that’s a stupid way to live your life. That’s all.”

“I think you just called me a moron again,” Matt says, weakly. He doesn’t know what else to say. The rest of it is...too much to consider.

“I called you stupid, actually, but I see your point.”

In the distance, Matt hears the noise of a crowd of people all simultaneously trying to shush each other, with limited success. He imagines even Foggy can hear it too a moment later when they all begin counting aloud.

“Last chance…” Matt says, tipping his head backwards in the direction of the room where everyone’s gathered.

“It doesn’t matter,” Foggy says, apropos of nothing, as far as Matt can tell. He’s about to ask what he means when Foggy continues, anyway. “I have someone who meets your criteria.”

“My criteria?”

“Yeah. You’ll only accept a kiss from someone you’ll see again after tonight, right?”

“Uh, I don’t think I said ‘only’, I just meant—”

“Too bad,” Foggy says, as the countdown reaches its conclusion. “Happy New Year.”

Matt’s halfway through formulating a question or an objection of some kind, which is the only reason he turns in Foggy’s direction at that moment. It’s clear from the noise of surprise Foggy makes that he absolutely had no intention of kissing Matt right on the mouth and was probably, in fact, aiming for his cheek, trying to be funny and charming after Matt was such a spoilsport about the whole kissing at midnight thing. If Matt hadn’t moved, there’s no doubt in his mind that that’s what Foggy would have done and then it would have been over and they’d already be laughing about it and moving on. But Matt did move and, even awkwardly off center, Foggy is kissing him on the mouth right now and they’re both just frozen like that, shocked and useless.

Matt doesn’t give himself much credit for genius. He’s reasonably smart, and can be even smarter if he applies himself to a subject and really studies up on it, but there’s plenty of people in any given room smarter than he is, most of the time. He has his moments, though, and this is one of them. He sees very clearly the two paths available to them. Down one, this moment stretches awkwardly and they allow it to become a source of discomfort and then outright pain that they'll avoid talking about for years, or maybe possibly forever. Regardless, it has the power to ruin their friendship and Matt simply can't abide that. Down the other, they don’t flinch from it and they don’t make it any stranger than it has to be and it becomes one weird but not fully objectionable moment in their long and storied relationship. They’re not going to trot it out as an anecdote at parties, sure, but they’re not going to become crazy about denying it happened either. If Matt can steer them in the direction of the latter, he thinks maybe it will all be okay, but it’s going to require him not to make matters worse. For whatever reason, the only way he can think to not do that is by kissing Foggy back.

It’s immediately apparent that, momentary genius or no, while it does not technically make things worse, it also does not make them better. Then again, Foggy makes a sort of interested noise as he feels Matt return the kiss, which Matt is infinitely better off for knowing about and having heard and being able to think about some other time when he’s alone preferably. 

They don’t take it any farther than just that. They’re not necking in some random person’s hallway or doing anything truly objectionable. They just stay there, mouths pressed together so that Matt can smell (and sort of taste) the champagne Foggy’s had and the last cigarette he smoked and a hint of that sugary gum he always chews, even though he hasn’t had a piece since before they came to the party. It mostly feels, more than anything else, like they’re breathing together and it’s not sexy the way wild, passionate groping in the dark can be, but it’s intimate in its own unique way. Matt, against his own better judgment, puts a hand on Foggy’s cheek, and he doesn't really know why beyond just really wanting to and that seems to be reason enough.

Foggy doesn’t try to slip his tongue into Matt’s mouth—despite the alarming reality that the moment Matt realizes that’s not what he’s doing, he also realizes he’d let him—or try to escalate matters one bit. His hand is still grasping Matt’s collar from when he first pulled him in, but his other one doesn’t roam. His lips, still pressed to Matt’s, only move to exert a little more pressure and to alter the angle at which they meet slightly. He takes precisely zero liberties and makes no effort to get fresh with him at all. It’s very gentlemanly, and Matt doesn’t know what to do with himself because it doesn’t feel awkward or fumbling at all. It feels like restraint, and once he knows that, everything is different.

The tune of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ reaches him from the other room, but it’s drowned out almost entirely by the sound of Foggy’s heartbeat in Matt’s ears. Foggy must hear it too, though, because he breaks their kiss with the worst sort of gentleness, pulling back only enough for them both to have space to breathe but not far enough that Matt can’t feel that breath on his face.

Matt traces his thumb over the curve of Foggy’s cheek before dropping his hand back down into his own lap and licks his lips as he slowly turns away. 

“Happy New Year,” he says, aiming for calm and unaffected and likely missing it by a lot.

“You too,” Foggy says, even though he already said it first. His heart is still beating too fast and too close and too loud for Matt to read his tone, which is too bad, because he’d really like to know how Foggy feels right now and if he feels anything like Matt does.

Because Matt feels like he’s been hit over the head.

✨

#mattfoggy #daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #matt x foggy #prompt fill #ask #firstelevens #taylor swift song prompts #homelywenchsociety #that's my writing tag! don't worry about it! #SLOWLY BUT SURELY FILLING THESE I PROMISE #it just takes me eight or so scrapped attempts before i find something i like #also this is um...definitely becoming a series.... yikes.... #do not yell at me I KNOW #anyway #happy almost new years i hope 2024 is good to all of us

[sineala]

Hi Sine! I find myself in possession of a very long plot (not going to count how many of those are in my inventory), and was hoping you'd share what program(s) you use for yours? I'm the sort who'd use a murder-wall with notecards but I don't have space rn. I *should* use tagging systems but all the ones available are so sketchy and unreliable that I lose focus just typing. Also I tried to search but. This is tumbs. Thanks - Shusu

Oh boy, this question was made for me!

The first novel-length story I wrote, I wrote in TextEdit. All 90,000 words of it. I basically just made a list of the scenes I wanted in the order I wanted them in, started typing the story above the list, and deleted every scene from the list when I had written it. I don't recommend this.

These days, I use Scapple and Scrivener. I have much more detail below. I am sure I have talked about them before but, as you say, Tumblr is hard to search.

Different things will work for different people, and I don't always start this way, but sometimes, while I'm still trying to rough out an idea, I start with a mind mapping program. You know that brainstorming technique that you learned in, like, third grade, where you take a piece of paper and you write down the main idea in the center in a bubble and then branch lines out from those with more bubbles containing related ideas, and then branch things out from those, and so on? You can get programs to do that instead of a big piece of paper, and the advantage to doing this on a computer is that your piece of paper can be infinitely large and you won't ever run out of space.

I will sometimes skip this step if I already know what order things are going to happen in (in that case, I just make an outline), but if it's the kind of unformed idea where I just want to write down everything that happens as I think of it so I won't forget it later, then I use a mind map.

I also use it to write down bits of dialogue as I think of them; the program I use lets me change fonts and colors and so on, so I have color-coded my dialogue by character:

I feel like I have probably posted this before but Tumblr is not letting me search. Also, this is probably not how you're supposed to use this, judging by how it exports data, but whatever.

There are a variety of programs that can help you make mind maps, and I'm sure a lot of them are good. The one I use is Scapple, which I like for a few reasons: it's very easy to use (you type something in, and then to connect two bubbles you drag one on top of the other) in a way that gives you a lot of freedom; it's not a subscription model like a lot of apps are (you buy it, you pay once, you can use it forever, and it costs about $20); and mostly, it's made by the developer of the writing program I use (Scrivener), meaning that the two programs integrate very well.

So then there's Scrivener.

Scrivener is probably the absolute most useful software I have ever owned; I have bought it four times now. (All three desktop versions and then the iOS version.) It is a word processor that is designed to help you structure and write novels. There are similar programs for free or at least cheaper, of course, but this is the one I use. (It also isn't a subscription; you just buy it.)

The downside is that it's a very complex program. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it can look a little daunting. It's one of those programs that has hundreds of features and you will only use about fifty percent of them, but everyone uses a different fifty percent, so there's something for everyone. (It can generate character names! There's a feature on the Mac version where it can highlight words by part of speech! You can change all the icons! The LaTeX export is pretty decent!)

Honestly, as long as you can figure out how to make scenes, rearrange scenes, edit synopses, and get your work out of the program, you're good to go; that's probably what you'll be doing most of the time.

Scrivener is basically designed around the murder-wall-of-notecards writing approach. A Scrivener project contains your Draft, which can have a bunch of folders in it (chapters) which can have individual documents (scenes). Each scene has an index card associated with it, and each index card is where you can write a synopsis for each scene.

You can view your story as single scenes or as a whole story (optionally with a window showing the synopses, so you can remember what you thought was going to happen while you are writing; I have shown this above) or you can just view the synopses as an outline or as index cards, like so:

There's your murder wall right there.

Rearranging the index cards also rearranges the scenes. (Rearranging the scenes using the list in the sidebar also rearranges the scenes.) So if you want to swap scenes around, you can do that. If you want to write the end first, you can do that. If you want to add three more scenes in the middle, you can do that.

You can also search your whole project, color code the index cards, tag them however you want with keywords (e.g., a keyword for every character who appears in the scene) and then look at everything you've tagged with particular keywords, notate scenes by whether they're done or not, and basically everything else you can think of. Mostly I have used this to color code scenes by POV so I can keep track of who's talking; I could also have used keywords.

So my first move when I start a project in Scrivener is to make a bunch of blank documents for all the scenes I think I will have, give them some kind of meaningful title, start writing down on the notecards things that will happen in each scene, and then move them around. This is where Scapple comes in handy -- both because I already have an idea from making a mind map in Scapple of what scenes I want, and also because the integration between Scapple and Scrivener makes it really, really easy to get started.

How do Scapple and Scrivener integrate, you ask? If you make a mind map in Scapple, you can drag and drop it into Scrivener and it will automatically make one scene for every bubble you have, and the text of each bubble will be on the notecard, so you can basically start with all of your scenes that you already have made in Scapple and then reorder them as you like.

Scrivener projects also have a Research section, where you can store basically anything related to what you're working on; you can set it to show your draft and your research at the same time. Basically anything can go in here. Mine usually have notes, more notes, character information, lines I cut but wanted to save somewhere (there is also a versioning system built in if you prefer that), comics panels, reference pictures, and entire webpages. This way, you'll never have to figure out what you did with that thing you looked up for your story, because you can keep it right there with your story.

Scrivener costs $60, which is kind of a lot, but there are very often coupons for 50% off from online software retailers (I just saw one on Boing Boing a couple days ago that still works as of the time I am answering this; I can vouch that they are a legit retailer). Also if you know anyone who has won NaNoWriMo, they get a Scrivener coupon as part of their winnings, and some people don't use theirs. It has a thirty-day free trial period (IIRC that's 30 days of use, not 30 calendar days) so you can try it and see if it works for you.

I also made a Compile Format for Scrivener 3 -- the current version -- so I can export HTML suitable for AO3 or Dreamwidth in one click. Scrivener can export your work in basically any format you can think of, but the default HTML exports all have too much stuff in them for my liking.

(Scrivener also has a bunch of preset templates for various kinds of writing -- like, there's a Novel template with room for character sheets and settings and all of that. You can make your own template, too. I actually made my own template for writing fanfiction for AO3. I'm not sharing this one because it is so personalized to me that it wouldn't be useful -- but, for example, I already know that I'm going to want a document in my Research section where I list notes about canon, and one where I list what bits I need to edit, and one where I copy in any conversations I've had with beta readers that I might want to refer to, and one where I list the things that will be in the AO3 header (it contains empty spaces for Title, Fandom, Tags, Summary, etc) so I can now always start with that. You can make a template yourself by opening a new project, setting it up exactly the way you like with the Research documents exactly the way you want, and then doing File > Save as Template. It will copy everything including any text that's in there so you want to use something that doesn't already have any story or research content written in it because then that will get copied. But it's a real timesaver.)

Anyway. Scrivener is the best.

#replies #rfpreiwaphase #scrivener

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - We’re The Type To Be Pit Ballin’

For: @purpleruletheomiverse 

Vlad loves balls. Danny loves balls. But most importantly, Maddie the cat loves balls.

Danny was always suspicious of Vlad, especially when Vlad gets a bunch of small boxes and one very large box. He didn’t pick up on any energy spikes in any of the guy's homes, so whatever it was it wasn’t electronic and didn’t use ectoplasm. Could it just be a new couch or bed? Sure. Danny wasn’t betting his half-life on that though.

Now if it was possible Danny would just waltz into the man’s house invisibly and check for anything; unfortunately, Vlad knew about his half-ghost ass and was also into anti-ghost tech. Meaning the house was protected from Danny abusing his powers like that, plus Vlad was a halfa himself and would thus sense Danny’s presence if he was in ghost form or using a decent amount of energy. So now here he is knocking on the door like a normal person (how boring) and being greeted by a slightly confused Vlad.

“Daniel?”, sticking his head out and looking around, “you’re here by yourself, so I doubt Jack made you come”, then frowning a little, “I will be very unhappy if you’re about to tell me there’s a major ghost issue”.

Danny shoves his way in, Vlad letting him with a quirked eyebrow as Danny looks around, “so what massive boxed thing did you buy”.

“You watching my mail like that could qualify as stalking behaviour, you know”.

“You put spy cameras in my house, you are not winning that argument”. Danny pausing in spot a few rooms over and just kind of staring, there’s a fucking ball pit and it’s actually filled with ball pit balls, not something weird or evilish. “Why… why do you have a ball pit”. It’s basically wall to wall, no wonder the box was goddamn huge.

Vlad walks in, crossing his arms, “Maddie was getting bored with most of her toys, so I thought I’d spice things up and splurge a little”.

Danny makes a few faces, “a ‘little’? You turned an entire room into a shallow ball pit for your cat. You have been too rich for too long”, wagging a finger in Vlad’s face, “you need to be homeless for a while, by the Ancients”. Looking back to the ball pit because come on! How much would something like this even cost? Even all the multi-coloured balls alone would be more than most peoples pay cheques. He means, sure he’s glad the guys actually pampering his cat like any halfway decent pet owner should but this might be overboard. “Your cat is spoiled”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, looking up to the ceiling, “I was also thinking of making steps for the walls and pathways up by the ceiling, little more space to run around and climb, you know”.

Danny looks up too, “Vlad… how fucking tall are your ceilings? What if she falls?”. Even if a cat fell into a shallow ball pit that would probably hurt.

Vlad pales a little, oh right, “you may have a point there”. This was a mansion after all. “Maybe just tunnels through the walls then”.

“Do you know what walls are load bearing? Do you want an upper floor to collapse down?”.

Vlad blinks, “since when did you know so much about architecture?”.

“It was one of the choices for side credits for that bachelor's degree I kinda wanna get”.

Vlad blinks and grins, “Oh, in biological science and engineering right? So you can get that master's to try getting into the Astronaut Candidate Program?”. At least his nephew-should-be-son-though was actually intelligent.

Danny grins right back, “yup, I’ve already got all my logged pilot-in-command hours”.

“I’d say congrats but I’m not sure Maddie and Jack’s jet counts”.

Danny points aggressively at him, “fuck that noise, I will make that count one way or another. Also, I have actually flown a real spaceship before even if I can’t actually prove that and it was trying to eat me beforehand”. And then Maddie the cat jumps up out of the ball pit and dives back in, popping her head up and meowing loudly at the two. Danny blinks, “was she sleeping in there?”.

Vlad looks incredibly smug, because he is smug, “indeed. I think it’s a winner”; then eyeing Danny watching the ball pit with a small little smile on his face.

Maddie the cat starts swimming around in the balls, the plunking and plinking the balls all make was rather adorable in Danny’s opinion, and what kind of loser doesn’t like a good ball pit. Ah, fuck it. “Fuck it”, Danny dives in; making Vlad jerk a little and reach out for him belatedly. Unfortunately, Danny sticks his head out of the pit with a, “I think I broke my neck actually”.

Vlad drops his hand and shakes his head, “for Gouda's sake, Daniel. Why didn’t you just step in?”.

“Oh where’s the fun in that?”. Eh, Danny thinks his neck’s healed enough, flipping over and starting to crawl around in the balls; occasionally flinging some in the air, which Maddie the cat frequently jumps out to catch or bat at.

Vlad sits down on the ball pit ledge, folding his hands together in his lap. He absolutely liked these sorts of little moments, where it felt like he could genuinely be family to Daniel. Watching Daniel bite a ball into his mouth and ‘popping’ it out. Maybe when the boy’s older and more mature…

Danny was very much in favour of this, it wasn’t evil, it didn’t involve his mom, and it was very fun. Ball pits were awesome… so long as no one pissed in it anyways. Vlad just rolls his eyes and leans out of the way when Danny throws a ball at him, but Maddie the cat absolutely losses her shit chasing after it like a bat outta hell and skidding around on the floor as she scammers her legs a bit faster than gravity is letting her actual move. The cat is smacking the runaway ball all over the floor and Danny can’t help laughing at that, Vlad watching his cat go fondly.

The cat comes back after a bit, panting, and lays on Vlad’s lap, him eyeing Danny as he pets her, “are you going to get out of there”.

Only half of Danny’s face is out as he hisses, “never”, and slowly sinks beneath the balls; time to slip away sneakily. Maybe Vlad will think he drowned in balls and panic. Heh.

Vlad eyes the balls and when Daniel doesn’t come back up and none of the balls move, “Daniel? Really?”.

A couple of seconds later the balls start moving again and Danny’s head slowly pokes up, looking petulant, “you added ghost shields underground?”.

Vlad smirks, “absolutely”.

Danny grumbles, actually standing up and walking out of the room making ‘I’m watching you’ gestures. Danny keeps glaring behind himself the entire way out of the mansion. Fuck… that was totally a family bonding moment, wasn’t it? Damn him. All his get a cat mocking was both working and backfiring. Ah well, it’s definitely still good he says; based on the sound of ball pit balls moving around it definitely was. There is nothing in this world that could convince Danny the Vlad didn’t just go into the ball pit. Nothing.

End

Prompt: Vlad goes to absurd lengths to spoil his cat.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2023 #danny #vlad #maddie the cat #fluff #ball pit #cats #fan fic #phan phic #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #gothmoth

[tzaraat]

Thank you for answering my previous ask. I’m getting into drawing/painting - What would you suggest for someone interested in starting oil painting? Like, videos/books/general tips? Sorry for an annoying big question like that, I’m just a little lost and wary about wasting materials

first of all, good luck, i hope you have fun :)

second of all, this is not authoritative - just what works for me, and i don't have formal training. another disclaimer is that i am not personally too concerned with archivability, which means i am unbothered by the idea of my paintings and drawings warping and degrading over time.

the actual advice is under the cut.

supplies:

oil paints are expensive. if you know someone who used to paint, or still does, and can give you their old stuff - that will be the most economical (and most convenient) way. if you don't have something like that, i recommend going for cheap, but decent-quality materials. get everything at a small-medium size, it will last you a relatively long time - and replace things as needed.

linseed oil and turpentine (mineral spirits also works) are gonne create your medium and let you clean your brushes. go to an art store and get a container of each. i have half-litre containers which i have been using for the past 3 years and are not yet done. you don't need to replace them that often.

paints

if you already paint in another medium (acrylic, gouache, watercolor, etc), and have a base of pigments you're comfortable working with - get the equivalent oil paints. try to narrow down your list - 5-10 pigments.

if you are on a limited budget, get a basic kit - one of those 8-tubes in a cardboard box things. make sure you have a dark blue and a dark brown in there. you don't need black. i would aim for something with two blues, two browns, two yellows, two reds. also get a tube of titanium white.

if you prefer picking individual pigments and don't know where to start, these are basic ones i like:

titanium white, burnt umber, raw umber, yellow ochre, cadmium yellow, cadmium red, magenta, prussian blue, cerulean blue. you don't need all of them, just make sure you have at least one from each color family, and that some of them are dark.

get 37ml tubes at the largest. if you like it and run out, you can replenish your kit. most people use white a lot - get a larger tube of that one, or two small ones.

my main pallette is this one: titanium white, burnt umber, raw umber, burnt sienna, raw sienna, yellow ochre, cadmium yellow, lemon yellow, naples yellow, cadmium red, alizarin crimson, magenta, ultramarine blue, prussian blue, phthalo blue, cerulean blue. if you buy all of these at once, they will cost a fortune. don't do it unless you're super rich or someone else is paying. acquire paints over time.

substrates

the common substrates for oils are canvas or wood. that said, you can paint on other things - paper, glass, metal, whatever - you just need to prepare them first.

i paint a lot in my sketchbook. this isn't necessarily a great idea unless you can predict how long it takes for stuff to dry, and other things of that nature.

regardless of your substrate, if you are just beginning, aim for things around the size of an A3 sheet of paper. this is large enough to give you space, but is not overwhelming. you can go a little smaller, but - at least at the beginning - no smaller than A4.

if you already have a preferred size of work, or once you get the sense that some size is the most comfortable for you, go for that one. i'm usually a large-canvas artist, but those are hard to fit through the door. i know people who rarely if ever paint or draw anything larger than an A4 sheet of paper. your mileage may vary.

because you will be preparing your substrate anyway, this can be the place to cut costs. high quality substrates are nicer to work on, and are better for archival purposes - but you can paint on anything, shitty canvas included. try to get non pre-gessoed canvas, though.

if you get paper, default to something relatively heavy. 300gsm is standard watercolor paper weight - if you're going to be oil painting, and you don't want it to warp, this is the ballpark. don't get high quality watercolor paper if you're gonna paint with oil or acrylic though - get a different heavy paper.

if you want to work on an unprimed substrate, test it before you begin. if you work on a porous one, like wood or paper, the oil will seep in. if you work on a smooth one, like glass or metal, you might have to rough it up so the paint adheres. in any way, this is not great for longevity - but you don't have to care sbout longevity.

gesso

get white acrylic gesso. not a huge container, unless you're gonna be doing it a LOT. also get a large, square brush, like for painting houses - this is your gesso brush. it's ok if it gets kind of shitty over time. if you are bothered by textured substrates, also get some sandpaper.

if gesso is too expensive, or you can't find any, get white acrylic paint. it will do the same job. get something cheap.

brushes:

if you already paint, use those (or buy doubles, if you don't feel like washing brushes all of the time). if you don't, buy some that are sold as a set, they tend to be cheaper. get decent quality - you don't want them shedding on your painting all the time.

clean-up:

get a rag, your turpentine or mineral spirits, and an all-purpose soap bar (the kind that's good for stain removal). don't pour stuff down the drain - you're using toxic materials, and oils clog up pipes.

general:

you'll need rags and a few jars.

get a pallette - can be any flat, smooth surface. i used to use a bath tile i picked up on the street. now i use the surface of my desk. you can use anything, just make sure it's large enough.n

the process of painting

priming and preparation:

if just acrylic gesso: with your big brush, spread gesso to cover the canvas, preferably with your strokes going in one direction. try to create even coverage. i usually do two to five layers, letting the gesso dry in between my second layer has brushstrokes perpendicular to the first. the texture will be somewhat plastic-y.

if ground: mix gesso with modeling paste. spread evenly across the surface with a brush, using the same perpendicular layers as when using just acrylic gesso. smooth between layers with the edge of a razor. the texture should resemble an eggshell.

if you're very traditional, you'll make and use a rabbit skin glue gesso. that is far too expensive for me.

gesso typically dries between 30 minutes and an hour. leave it to dry COMPLETELY before painting - you don't want moisture getting in your paint.

for general preparation, fill a jar about a fourth-or-third of the way with linseed oil. fill another jar with your turpentine. lay the paints on your pallette - i like having them around the edge, with similar pigments grouped together. you do whatever is comfortable for you.

open a window! you're working with toxic materials, and solvents fume. ideally, don't do it in your bedroom. (i paint in my windowless bedroom. do as i say, not as i do).

oil painting- general notes:

most people paint with a mixture of oil and solvents. if you want to create a medium, mix linseed oil with turpentine. use more oil than turpentine (2:1 or 3:1 ratio, usually, depending on many factors, just play with it until you figure it out).

i personally use linseed oil almost exclusively, and reserve turpentine pretty much only for underpainting and cleanup. the downsides are that it dries relatively slowly and that it yellows easily. the upsides are that i'm used to this method and that oil does not fume the way many solvents do.

many people will tell you you should paint fat-over-lean, thick-over-thin, slow-over-fast. all three "rules" serve the same purpose - they try to make sure that, as the painting "dries" (oxidizes) and its surface deforms, it does not lose structural integrity (e.g. by cracking). the main principle is that, if you work in layers, you want your top layers to remain flexible as the bottom layers dry. "fat" paint means paint mixed with oil or medium. "lean" paint means paint with solvent mixed into it. fast-drying pigments include most earth tones, slow-drying pigments include most jewel tones.

oil painting - common techniques:

many people paint alla prima. this means your painting does not dry between layers. your initial layers should be loose, thin and lean - ideally semitransparent washes. the top layers should be the most vivid and opaque, with the most tonal range - highlights and deep shadows go last. working alla prima, you also have the option of taking paint away from your canvas - don't be afraid to experiment with scratching it with the blunt end of your brush or with a pallette knife. account for mixing on the canvas by making the color on your pallette more vivid, and load the brush heavily.

if you let your painting dry between layers, there are many classical techniques. mix and match between those as you see fit. you can use as many or as few layers as you like.

regardless of specific technique, people usually go through these stages:

graphic layer - this is the process of establishing your drawing on your substrate.

underpainting: there are many styles of underpainting, like imprimatura, verdaccio and grisaille. for imprimatura, you apply a wash of colour (in a warm earth tone) to the canvas, then rub out the light areas and darken the shadows. some add white for the highlights for a fuller tonal range. for verdaccio, the monochromatic underpainting is done in a greenish/yellowish grey (mixture of black, white and yellow pigment). in flemish painting, a verdaccio layer is done (usually in tempera) over the imprimatura background, and neutralises it. in grisaille, the painting is fully rendered in a neutral monochrome (unlike the warm imprimatura and greenish verdaccio), including fully developed highlights and shadows, and detail work.

color: color layers may fully cover the underpainting, or be transparent enough to allow it to it show through. usually, more opaque color is applied for highlights, whereas shadow areas reveal the underpainting by being relatively transparent.

glazes: transparent layers that tone the previous, more opaque ones.

in principle, oil paints tend toward some level of transparency. usually, the very surface of the painting will be primarily a transparent film - with the pigment sitting at the bottom. glazes explicitly utilise the transparency in order to create depth and luminosity. the process of glazing is similar to that of watercolor painting.

wait for the painting to be dry to the touch before applying the next layer.

after your painting is completely finished and dry (this can take a very long time), a varnish can seal and protect it.

ON THE USE OF BLACK: some people prefer using a black pigment, like ivory black. personally, i mostly use chromatic black - a mix of dark blue and brown, which creates the effect of black without use of black pigment. i prefer this way because it allows me to easily change the tonality of my black tones, and push them towards blue or red as i see fit. a mix of prussian blue and burnt umber creates a very deep and versatile black tone.

cleanup:

wash your brushes in the linseed oil, then dry them with a rag. wash in turpentine and dry with a rag until they no longer leave a stain. now get a jar with water and your all-purpose soap bar. clean your brushes using soap and water until completely clean. leave them to dry. do not use brushes which are not yet fully dry for oil painting.

close the jars containing your linseed oil and your turpentine (and medium, if you made some). unlike with watercolors, you do not need to replace your oil once it gets dirty. the pigments sink to the bottom, and you can later use them for glazes and washes. do not pour the water down the drain. it is your choice how to dispose of waste - personally, i wait until it gets too dirty, then evaporate it and get rid of the solids alongside any pallette shavings i may have.

if you still have fresh paint on your pallette, and are not going to be using it soon, you can store it in a box in your freezer to keep it fresh. if that is not an option, store it in a cool and dark place, like a cupboard. if you take your paint out of the freezer, make sure there is no condensation on it when you start working, so that you don't introduce moisture into your oils.

it is generally speaking a good idea to try and avoid getting your hands dirty with oils, because some of the pigments are toxic, as is turpentine. it's at your discretion to decide how much you care about that. i work with my hands a lot and don't care. conversely, i have friends who glove up.

resources:

i don't really watch youtube videos on painting, because most of the popular channels annoy me. if you want to learn a specific technique, there are good videos out there - they usually have less than 10000 views.

as for textbooks, i go for ones that get into specific artists' methodologies. alternatively, research papers. there are also useful books from academies, that have exercises in them.

experimentation is crucial for learning a medium. use it a lot. it's ok to waste SOME materials - it's very likely your first pieces will be kind of bad.

if it scares you to work on a designated canvas, say it's a sketch in preparation for a different painting. prime it roughly, and set yourself a time limit. you can always paint over a pre-existing painting. it's fine.

if you want to paint realistic works, you will have to also practice your skills of drawing and of observation. i'm always a proponent of working from real life rather than from an image, though of course it's a legitimate and enjoyable technique. i also like working from video reference and moving models, but that can be hard for some people.

if you want to paint abstract works, experimentation is your friend. familiarise yourself with the intricacies of the paint and its application, and play with it and your substrates. work a lot on your compositional skills. train your eye to decide what you like and dislike by metrics independent of how much a piece visually represents any specific object. express concepts - philosophical, emotional, visual, whatever - through abstract forms. get really into color and light.

if you have any other questions, feel free to ask. i can't currently think of anything else i would go over before starting to paint. just please don't kill your entire paycheck by buying supplies, there is always a good chance that you can get something for cheap or for free by just asking around or experimenting. there might also be programs around where you live in community centres or something where they teach painting, who will let you maybe borrow materials or something. if you can worm your way out of paying, by any means that don't get you in major trouble, that's better.

#.asked

[beloved-blaiddyd]

Dear Lee,

I hope that despite your troubles (I heard you weren't looking forward to tomorrow/today) you are taking good care of yourself. In case you forgot to, here is a reminder to drink and eat + an extra reminder of how cool you are because you are so resilient and strong! (I am cheering you on!)

And while I love to send my support, I am also here for the ask game /evil laugh. I had no idea how many I could send, so I hope I didn't choose too many :( If I did end up asking too much, just ignore the ones you don't like /gen /nohardfeeling /youdoyou

So... what about "L", "O", "V", "E" + Dimitri? It seems fitting!!

Or maybe "H" for Gallagher if you're feeling silly / to increase combat the housewife allegations >:D

Sending you hugs and good vibes,

ㅤ

- Shiro.

L - Love when did they realize they were in love?

𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐢: ██ ████ ████ ███████████ ████ ████ ████ ████, ███ ████ ██ ████ ████ ████ █████ ████ ████ ██ ██████ ████. ████ ██ █████ █████ ████████ ███ ██ ███ 30 ██ ██ ████████ ████ █ ████████ ████, █████'█ ████ ██ ██████████████ ████████ ████ ██ ████.

𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐞: She still hasn't realized she's in love. Unfortunately, Brynn views romance as a theme in horror and that reflects on her writing.

O - Object what’s something they have that reminds them of the other?

𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐢: Brynn isn't one to give gifts— she thinks it's a rather daunting task. Her house is poor and she highly doubts whatever material present she could give will not satisfy him deep down. So, she went for a more personal approach... She learned a few skills from her grandfather and made riding boots. As to where she got information on his shoe size, Felix would be happy to rant about how weird it was that she used mud from a rainy day to measure it.

Dimitri was ecstatic to receive them... And incredibly sad when he accepted years later that it no longer fits him. Miraculously, Brynn just asks him for his shoe size this time. She doesn't mind making them. It's one great way to honor her deceased hero.

𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐞: Since she often loses her valuables, especially writing utensils (there's a certain nameless outlander who gave her a pencil but she lost that too), Dimitri gifted her a lifetime supply of quills. He often apologizes that it's an excessive gift, given how it's been 6 years and she has yet to run out of them. Brynn thanks him each time he strings out incoherent sorry-s, saying the supply had helped her a ton. But really. She hasn't lost a single one of his gifts.

V - Vanished what would they do if the other vanished one day?

Answered here ^^

E - Encourage how do they encourage each other?

𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐢:

𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐞: The most in effective cheerleader in the battlefield. Says the most cringeworthy phrases. "Destroy them, my liege!" "Mess em up, Your Highness!", "Slay, king!". She's not exactly aware that she's being loud and obnoxious. Sylvain likes to join in to turn Dimitri's face redder.

"You're dashing, Dimitri! Shows us those biceps! Right, Brynn?!"

"Yeah, what he said!"

"Do you even know what words and implications you're condoning?!"

H - Hungry does one of them cook? What do they do for dinner?

𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 is unfortunately a decent cook, but 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐧 will never admit that. During the Alone Together event, Brynn tries her best to avoid him at all costs when in Penacony, but hunger struck. Heartily, he laughed and prepared something for her near-lifeless pleas for food. Since then, Brynn pays with gratitude little by little. The tips she'd leave on the table always amused Gallagher. There's no denying that no matter how much she makes the relationship seem transactional, what their relationship has a clear "wine and dine" label.

#$ support conversations #$ s-support = dimitri #$ a-support = shiro #shiro if you're reading this ty got the words 😭😭😭😭 #you better have eaten properly when you saw this notif!! drink as well!!!!

[yoiku]

bleurgh

I sure did underestimate how much putting a pricetag on anything I make messes with my head. Putting a price on a physical item is easier because I can sum up the material costs and add a fee based on an alright hourly pay for the work. With art that's just not an option in my case, if I charged by the hour I spend on a pic the prices would be way too high. I'd need to count in the time spent on communication as well as drawing too, like you're supposed to, is what I hear from people running an actual business. I went with prices that I feel comfortable charging. If I look at them and try to compare to how much groceries I could get for the same price, I feel like I should be charging more. (I think everyone probably feels that these days though >_>; ) If someone would just slap on prices that are good enough for whatever the monetary worth of anything even is in this day and age of uncontrolled, ever rising inflation, I'd feel so much better about it. I wouldn't have to keep second guessing a thing I came up with. My head has been going brrrrrrrrrrrr in such a bad way for several days that I wasn't able to rest, and I hate it so much that the more I keep thinking about it the worse I feel and at this point I am once again having to fight the "well I sure ain't worth anything and anything I make even less so" - bullshit every time I let my thoughts wander. And boy do they wander. At least I am so used to it by now that so far I'm still able to recover from the barrage of doubts with the good old "sigh, we been there we done that" after i've been both mentally and physically drained long enough. So it could be worse. Just that it would be nice if it was even a bit better. It doesn't help that the turn of the year is always a bad time for me, it makes me look back in retrospect the same way my birthday does, and it never fails to make the depression pop up big time. Big part of why I decided to set the comms opening on jan. 1st even though I could have them open already. I knew my mood would be down in the dumps, so getting to work the first thing after the remainder of december will be much better. I am feeling pretty determined to try and make as much money through comms as I can next year. My pc is starting to really show it's age, and after doing my research, I'd rather go for a new one and sell my current for parts. If I wanted to give my setup the kind of refresher I'd need, the price is going to get high enough that might as well go for a new machine entirely and hopefully not have to worry about having to replace parts for another 8 or so years. So, at least I have a good motivator there. My pc is still healthy even if it's gotten slow, so I still trust it to not suddenly die on me...mostly. I dove into a marathon of CIV6 for 3 days in hopes of redirecting my many trains of thoughts and it worked as long as I kept going. But I need to do something productive or I'm going to start bouncing off the walls. But first, an attempt at a decent nap.

#ramblings and a bit of ventings #why do i have a poopoo brain that's just full of soup and tangled yarn #oh right it's the cocktail of neurological and psychological troubles I have in freeloading in there #i wish i could just yeet my brain into the snow and literally have it chill so I could have some peace up in there

[sigmaleph]

random.org is a useful website for various, well, randomisation purposes, but their thing about 'true randomness' is a little weird

most of the time when computers need a random number they use a pseudo-random number generator, the output of which is as the name implies not 'actually' random (you can reproduce the same result if you use the same initial conditions). If you're drawing a handful of numbers this basically can't be a problem; the short-term behaviour of any remotely decent PRNG is going to look pretty random. If you're doing something security-critical or doing complicated scientific modelling where you need to draw lots and lots of numbers this can be a problem, if you're using a shitty algorithm or using a good one improperly, don't take advice from me in that scenario.

Anyway. random.org does not use a PRNG; they use atmospheric noise as a source of 'true randomness'. I am not really qualified to evaluate the statistical properties of atmospheric noise or whatever; I'm assuming it's good enough and if it isn't someone who knows better should say so. But what it is is more expensive to get; not very, but you can get a lot more random numbers out of a PRNG running on your own machine than from a single website serving random bits to whoever asks. if you're using their API, the free tier has a 1000 requests per day limit and their 'commercial (non-gambling)' tier is 12 USD a month for 60000 requests.

that's not a lot per request ofc, but like imagine if someone told you the way your computer multiplies numbers is bad and you need to buy premium multiplication from them over the internet. no matter how cheap per operation that is, you're going to want a good reason to think this premium multiplication is, y'know, better.

(i mean also probably your computer can't connect over the internet if it can't multiply numbers but never mind that).

Random.org summarises which kind of random number generator is in their opinion more appropriate for each situation in a handy table, which I am not going to copy because i have no idea how to make tumblr format things as tables. it suggests 'true' random number generators for the purposes of "Lotteries and Draws, Games and Gambling, Random Sampling (e.g., drug screening), and Security (e.g., generation of data encryption keys)", and PRNGs for Simulation and Modelling. The latter seems to be a concession to the fact that those require far too many random draws for their model to work well with.

so here's my issue: I am reasonably confident that for short draws PRNGs are good enough at 'being random'. If you use them badly (a shitty algorithm, or idk, set the seed in a predictable-to-outsiders way) in a security-critical application you will have Problems, but that's also true about everything in security. I have no idea if there's fewer risks from using a centralised source of true randomness for your cryptographic keys than a PRNG, maybe there is, not the point.

the point is everything else. If on short draws the problems of PRNGs are unlikely to occur, and on long draws the costs of paying someone else to do it for you get too big (as they implicitly admit), what exactly is the use case?

The API tiers for gambling purposes all offer a signed API, which:

The Signed API has all the functions of the Basic API and also lets you prove that your random values really came from RANDOM.ORG (authenticity) and that your application has not changed them (integrity). This is useful for many applications, such as a finance, auditing, games and lotteries.

this... kind of suggests that the actual valuable service random.org is offering in their APIs is not any useful statistical property of 'true randomness' but rather auditability; being able to prove to a third party that your random numbers were actually random and you didn't fudge them. I mean, maybe this is meant as a nice bonus and not the core service? but I'm suspicious.

(a note on quantum generators: for most purposes these are just 'true' randomness generators except, uh, truer; if there's anything actually truly random in the universe rather than simply unpredictably chaotic it's that. for the most part I don't think this matters much unless you're very suspicious that atmospheric noise et al are actually more predictable than we think right now? oh and if you believe in the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics using quantum dice would mean that you are guaranteeing there's a world where the diceroll went the other way, if that's a thing you want. or want to avoid, for that matter).

anyway yeah I'm suspicious of the alleged useful properties of 'true' randomness over PRNG for most applications and I'm eager to hear what I got wrong above.

[endertender]

Shopping For Super King-Size Bedding

In the event that you have read my post about king size bedding, you realize that I love bigger mattresses and the better sleeping experience that they can give. All things considered, the super king size bed is kind of a definitive articulation of this thought, and it ought to shock no one that I seriously love them too. They can be a particularly extraordinary choice if you and your life partner have small kids or this website creatures that like to go along with you in the bed. The more room you have the better with regards to getting a decent night's sleep, and super king size beds give 'room' in spades.

Despite how extraordinary the sleeping experience might be in a super king size however, you can hope to run into similar issue we discussed with finding standard king size, yet to a bigger degree. As referenced before, sheets are accessible nowadays in just about any example, variety, and material that you can envision. Be that as it may, dissimilar to whatever other size, this isn't generally the situation with super king size bedding. The reality stays that this size just isn't standard, and for various reasons. Basically, these beds are just too huge for most households. Beyond the advanced, cutout manors that exist in the suburbs, houses generally have never been worked with the huge main bedrooms that we see today. This removes a colossal lump of the addressable market for most mattresses, and puts these in light of most families. Obviously, the other fundamental explanation that these are not frightfully normal is cost. As I'm certain you know, bigger mattresses require more work, material, delivering cost, and so on to create and sell. These expenses must be given to the shopper, and in this manner super king sizes are at the external furthest reaches of cost. By and large, a customary king size is above and beyond, and supporting not paying something else for the super is simple... all good.

In the event that you're hear however, you have the space, and you have the mixture for a super king size, yet it's horrible without sheets. We will discuss a couple of things to see while you're shopping for bedding.

A decent set of sheets and bedding is a serious use, and somewhat of a drawn out speculation, particularly with a bed this huge. Thus, you will need to ensure that you require some investment to settle on a very much contemplated and clever decision. In any case, you'll should know that not all that you find that you like will be accessible in super king. Know that going in, and you're more averse to become frustrated while you shop. What's more, remember that there are consistently workarounds - you might find an example you like that isn't accessible in the texture you like. You might find a material you need, yet can't get it in an example that will look great with the remainder of your furniture. Try not to surrender. This is the cross that king size bedding shoppers must bear. It is possible that you have to have the sheets custom made, or it may be the case that you have to converse with a purchaser to get what you need custom arranged. Frequently these choices can be something to be thankful for as it ought to assist with protecting that you get precisely exact thing you need.

Anyway, what do you have to think about? Indeed, thread count, as discussed in the king size bedding post, is considerably even more a worry. With more space, comes an improved probability that the sheets will be extended and pulled, and for the most part tried positively regarding their durability.

#youtube

[almost-a-class-act]

Happy belated Pacific appreciation week!

Prompt: Day 7 ( February 12th ): Domestic Fluff Pairing: Sid/Mary/Eugene Author's note: And we've reached the final prompt! This is maybe my first published poly ship? I'm working on a longer postwar fic for these three now because they're pretty cute and I don't have enough ongoing writing projects I guess. (!!) As with the first several stories this will probably end up on AO3 after I have some time to go over it. You can find me there under roaroftheninth.

--

Many people – perhaps most people – spend varying amounts of their time, inside of whatever place of worship they frequent and outside of it, asking God for favours. It is a tenuous, complicated thing, to be alive, to be awarded circumstances for which you have not asked – to have to make the best of it. For a lot of folks, their best case scenario leaves a lot to be desired, and while prayer is no guarantee, it also doesn’t cost anything.

Sid hasn’t asked for anything in a long time.

In that sweltering little church at the height of summer, sweat running down his back and soaking into his shirt under his jacket, he wonders at that, picking it gently apart in his mind, the way he carefully considers most things. He is a good person, he thinks, on balance – and soon he’ll be a doctor, officially, which means that, over the long curve of his life, he might end up saving far more lives than he ever took. He is the kind of good that shows up for his family, tries to be a decent neighbour, puts money in the plate when it comes around, and helps his friends when they need him.

But he is not a great person. He is not going to give up everything his parents are likely to leave him, his home and the people he loves, to travel to distant places trying to save people. He did things on Guadalcanal and Gloucester that he wishes he could forget, and came back without a scratch on him while unequivocally better men than he never made it out of that torment of a jungle. He never did anything especially heroic, did his part but never went out of his way. He knows himself well enough to know that he is not going to change the world.

And he is not, he can admit ruefully to himself, paying attention during this sermon, a wisp of a sin on top of the others which might nevertheless be counted.

So it doesn’t make much sense that he has everything he could want, against nearly impossible odds – that everything worked out for him, even though there is no rational reason why it should have, and every rational reason why it should have gotten caught on one of life’s many snags. But he does have everything he could want, and it did work out, and today as always, he tries his best to tread lightly in God’s presence. He is continually grateful. He wants for nothing.

He has both of his people on either side of him, Eugene sober and sat up straight, listening intently, and Mary with her knee pressed gently against his, fanning herself in the heat. God willing, he gets to keep this.

God willing, he gets to keep them.

Mary is incredibly gifted at the socializing that follows immediately after the service, and today as always, Sid mostly watches, letting himself be pulled into conversations here and there, a smile and a “yes, Mrs. Phillips” when she volunteers him for social occasions and neighbourly assistance that she knows he won’t mind doing. He drifts back to find Eugene almost automatically after a while, precisely aware of him as always, and they watch Mary flit from group to group, laughing, a midsummer spark that draws the eye.

They are both convinced that Mary is the glue that holds the world together.

Mary, who is so effective at making sure they are valued members of the community, above reproach.

(Mary, who could teach a master class in deftly turning away questions about why her husband’s best friend has been living with them for the past three years and shows no signs of moving on.)

When at last she returns to them and they head home, unhurried and on foot since the sun is gloriously out and the journey is not far, Mary assertively hooks her arms through both of theirs.

“Sidney Phillips, where on earth do you go during those sermons?” she asks, out with it at once, like she’s been waiting to ask for the last half hour. However bright and lively she is with other people, her sharpest, most attentive warmth, is saved for them.

“Me?” Sid asks, surprised by the question.

“Yes, you.”

Sid shakes his head, because part of treading lightly in God’s presence means that he doesn’t talk about how very lucky he is aloud. There is no sense in calling attention to it. “Nowhere.”

Mary, who has seen directly and completely through him since they were children, deliberately steps a little to the side, bumping him gently. “Liar.”

Sid glances across her at Eugene, who looks altogether too much like he thinks this is funny.

“Come on, Gene,” he says, gently drawing him in, the way he always will. He and Mary haven’t been the more established unit with Eugene on the outside for a long time, in as much as they ever were, but maybe it’s always been a habit of his, to find Eugene and include him, wherever they are – whoever they’re with. “You can’t let her defame me like this.”

Eugene’s eyes are warm, affectionate and unburdened for once, a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. Sid chases that smile often, seizes on it when they get it. “Shame on you, Sid," he says. "Three things are certain in life – death, taxes, and that Mary Houston Phillips is always and unequivocally right, and I’m not even so sure about the first two.”

“Oh, I see,” he says, feigning indignation. He is not especially skilled at it, and it does not hide the geniality underneath. “Ganging up on me.”

Eugene tilts his head in affirmation, amused. “The first mistake you made was assuming I was going to be on your side.”

“I don’t go anywhere,” Sid protests. “I just get to thinking. That’s all.”

Eugene’s smirk widens. “Deep thoughts, I’m sure.”

“Occasionally, one floats by,” he returns, airy and mischievous.

“Well, wherever it is,” Mary interjects. “Next time, take me with you. I swear they get longer every week.”

The day is warm enough already that the talk turns to cold drinks and shaded porches, the way it often does, and when they reach the house, Sid slows at the top of the steps. He watches them pass over the threshold together, Eugene leaning down to murmur something to Mary that makes her laugh and glance back over her shoulder at him, bright-eyed and fond.

“What are you looking at?” she asks.

“You,” he says, honestly.

She trades glances with Eugene, who hisses a laugh from behind his teeth. “Soft,” he assesses.

“I’m not soft,” he protests, though he is smiling, too, helplessly. “I’m just happy.”

Mary rolls her eyes affectionately. “Come on inside,” she tells him. “My goodness. The look in your eye sometimes.”

His smile widens. “Yes, ma’am.”

He is very loved. He can’t ask for anything more.

#tpweek2023 #hbowardaily #the pacific #fanfiction #roaroftheninth

[deepest-dope]

Caravaner's guide to dealing with raider gangs

As we all know, the caravan business is dangerous if lucrative work, so I have decided to write up a handy dandy guide to some of the dangers out on the trails to help the startups out there. I am not a professional and am doing this in a vague out line but I'm trying to go in order of threat level for the most part.

As we all know the biggest and the baddest are as always the Great Khans and you of course will know them by the leather jackets which they have so kindly labeled on the back so everyone knows they are Great Khans. They are the most organized raiders out in the Mojave, and the most dangerous by far for it. If they are raiding you, you almost certainly didnt see them coming so, you're probably going to be better off just letting them loot you.

If you did see them tracking you, then congratulations eagle eye! They are still probably going to want your stuff. I've never tried it but you could try to swing a bargain? Just don't go at 'm guns a-blazing because that shit will get your ass killed. You and whatever mercs you hired to escort your ass through the desert are not going to win a fight against Khans and if anyone you're considering hiring says they can they're talking out their ass.

Moving onto one you might be less familiar with, the scorpions. These guys are chem dealers by trade and for the most part chem ingredients is what they are looking for. You can catch them by the fact that they are more likely to pull a hold up then any other gang. Most others don't bother saying hi or asking for specific things.

The Leader of the Scorpions, Yvette, is actually a real businesslike woman, and if you've got the time and the silver tongue for it you can probably hash something out with her. Always good to look for nore business opportunities after all and she doesnt ask for much, just the best price on chem ingredients you can give. Definitely dont agree to smuggle mojave chems into the NCR for her though, its not worth the bigger paycheck then a good old fashion army supply haul, it don't matter she pays you better then Kimball at all, honest.

That is of course assuming you are the type for a peaceful solution. If not about 4 decently equipped regular guards or 2 really damn good ones can take the scorpions in a straight gunfight. The scorpions don't like fighting longer then a few minutes and should give up pretty quickly. If you're being chased by fiends (who'll be mentioned later in the guide in more detail) you can dash through scorpion territory and they'll take on the fiends for you, Yvette HATES the fiends and does not tolerate them being anywhere near her.

Now on to the Vipers, and I know for sure you've heard some shit, we all have. These crazy bitches are the reason you don't sleep anywhere in the desert without a night watch set up, and I personally just hope to God that thing about then feeding people alive to snakes ain't true. Luckily they aren't so good if they don't get the drop on you with their snake venom weapons, the guards you set on night watch should be able to run 'em off just fine.

And now for the Fiends! Those fucks with the skull helmets! God knows where the fuck they're getting energy weapons but they have plenty of ammo and little to no interest in talking shit out. Avoid avoid avoid. Avoid at all costs. If you survive the initial hit on your caravan you don't want to stick around for whatever the fuck these sociopaths have in store for you on capture, especially so of its an attack led by Cook-cook. These bitches, along with Ceasar's Legion, are the reason a lotta women of merchant work keep a gun with one bullet on standby. If you carry chems you might be able to swing something but I wouldn't count on it considering most of their raiders do their raiding high off their ass on any number of the nastier shit.

Now to the Jackals, whom you may have heard a lot about, possibly some conflicting info. And I'm here to tell you none of its wrong. You see the Jackals although nunerous aren't one big group like the Khans, they're more like a bunch of smaller gangs like the scorpions and vipers and such just all using the same name for some reason. Which unfortunately means ain't no tried and true method of spotting them and fending them off.

But that don't mean it's fully impossible. Y'see all those stories of ghosts in the night leaving merchants with nothing in the morning, or caravans mauled out in the desert sometimes ritually so, and caravans getting held up by wraith on a ridge wielding a grenade rifle are not untrue but pretty preventable, you just gotta catch these Jackals fore they get you.

See Jackals, like scorpions, are usually after something specific of not always chems. Sometimes the thing they're after is you, which is why the old backup with one bullet is good sense for everyone, but sometimes it's something like radaway or anything else you can spare or prove you don't have and you can just pass them by.

For the most part the Jackals like Khans are prone to stalking their prey for a while before striking but unlike the Great Khans they are more likely to give up on it if they're found out before they can strike. You can just walk up, talk up, see what they want, hand it over if y'can spare it or if you're stingy just run em off. They don't like fighting without at least some advantage and taking their element of surprise usually sucks wind out if their sails.

Course most if that goes out the window if they're outright attacking you already. In which case, just try to hide and wait for them to finish and leave, before poking your head out to see if they left anyone alive and bury whatever's left of anyone they didn't. Yeah I don't recommend trying a straight fight with em. Nobody that survived a scrap with a Jackal left it with all their looks in tact to say the least.

And ending on the Powder Gangers, that's right them convicts you all heard escaped the prison a while back not only unionized against the NCR but have formed an organized raiding gang! And they are something to watch out for for sure, see they don't really have a set tactic for dealing with caravans. Sometimes they'll pull a hold up real straightforward like sometimes your only warning is a little sparking light flying towards you.

For the most part dealing with powder gangers you want to bum rush to get in close quick. I know this seems a bit counterintuitive but they are actually smart enough to know better then to blow themselves up. As for a direct hold up you can sometimes take the guy they send to make demands at you hostage and they'll usually try to get him back intact. Take the dynamite out of his pockets and make him walk with you for a while down the road and tell his pals to stay put on pain of their friend and keep an eye on your back as you walk.

Now that's all the big ones to worry about as it goes, you shouldn't be getting to close the legion and the west side militia and house's securities keep thing close to Vegas pretty damn safe.

#fallout fanfic #Fallout new vegas

[vampiredies]

Quick question, is Ronald's apartment actually haunted in canon, or is that just a popular headcanon? If so, what all's known about it?

Quick answer: "popular headcanon"

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TBH, it's a "complex? not really… is it?" territory bordering around the line of "actually might be canon" since there have been a "sighting" on a John almost-daily life mini series where John's spooked looking at the ceiling/corner of the room and there's "eyes" looking back that might indicate that it's haunted but there's no sign from the main manga or mentions in account jacks to really hold on that assumption that the apartment's haunted in anyway. It might just be a loitering vampire for all we know...

The thought intensified because during a mini account jack on twitter during the anime’s TV marathon reruns, Draluc asked how much is Ronald paying for his apartment(monthly) and we got the infamous "8000 yen" answer that Draluc’s even bewildered at how cheap it is.

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And while it's not really uncommon for places to be rented cheaper especially when owners just want the place to have a living person to occupy the place (but can't afford a caretaker) for whatever reason or if the place has a run down reputation that it's the best they can offer-- Ronald's space is still sus af.

Searching about it back then and now a 1room+bathroom type of apartment deal costs around than 50k yen... most simple 1-person apartment in Shin-Yokohama that’s smaller than Ronald’s is already at 100k yen/month, so 8k yen as Ronald's monthly rent counting that he also have his own office space, is a grain of sand in comparison.

In reference, this is the space that Ronald rents minus the hallway, stairs, gendered toilets across the office's door, etc.

I can’t recall if there’s any changes lately to this blueprint but it’s a p large area. We know that it just looks cramped but it's decently spacious for him and Draluc, so it's reasonable for people to be immediately suspicious and be alarmed with Ronald only paying 8k for this.

We still don’t know the story of how he obtained the apartment he’s living at so there might still be other reasonable explanations why it’s like that.

But ultimately, with limited information that we canonically knew, it's easier to reason out that the apartment space of that size is dirt cheap because it's haunted. It's a fairly common trope too so it fits not only as a reason but also on the somehow weird unexplored lore regarding Draluc’s unspoken relation to spirits and such.

#;character asks #asks #// thank you for asking~! #// no spoilers under read more. just thoughts #// tried my best explaining why #// people... you can send questions anytime you want. No need to wait for a 'go' signal every mod post. That's literally why I got anon up.