By sachpica
A deep-sea anglerfish delivers a quiet truth. Be the light in the darkness. This design blends moody ocean vibes with subtle hope, perfect for anyone who likes their inspiration a little weird, a little wise, and softly glowing.
We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Twelve Months, the 18th installment in Jim Butcher’s long-running Dresden Files—publishing with Ace on January 20.
Harry Dresden has been through a lot, and so has his city. After Harry and his allies narrowly managed to save Chicago from being razed to the ground, everything is different—and it’s not just the current lack of electricity.
In the battle, Harry lost people he cared about. And that’s the kind of loss that takes a toll. Harry being Harry, he’s doing his level best to help the city and his friends recover and rebuild. But it’s a heavy load, and he needs time.
But time is one thing Harry doesn’t have. Ghouls are prowling Chicago and taking out innocent civilians. Harry’s brother is dying, and Harry doesn’t know how to help him. And last but certainly not least, the Winter Queen of the Fae has allied with the White Court of vampires—and Harry’s been betrothed to the seductive, deadly vampire Lara Raith to seal the deal.
It’s been a tough year. More than ever, the city needs Harry Dresden the wizard—but after loss and grief, is there enough left of Harry Dresden the man to rise to the challenge?
I fell back onto the bed, gasping, my heart pounding against my chest.
The gorgeous woman from the party, I hadn’t caught her name, collapsed atop me. She was shaking and made soft, gentle sounds on every exhale.
“Oh God,” she breathed. “Oh God. Oh God.”
“Shhh,” I said, and began to run my hand up and down her back soothingly. “Shhh. Get your breath.”
A low laugh came from the padded papasan chair just across from the bed, in the shadows of the room. Moonlight came in through the windows and the draping white gauzy curtains. A slim, pale form slith- ered up out of the chair and prowled lithely across the rich carpet to- ward me.
“Oh,” Lara breathed. She emerged into a beam of moonlight that caressed every unclad, perfect inch of her. Her eyes glowed brilliant silver. She touched my hand gently and then caressed the woman’s back, drawing shudders of pleasure from her.
Lara smiled down at me and leaned in for a slow kiss. Part of my brain melted when our lips met, and turned into slow, swirling liquid pleasure, but she didn’t let it last for long.
Not yet.
She drew slowly away, smiling down at me, and said, “That was beautiful.”
It took me a moment to get enough breath and focus together to say, “It still feels strange.”
“It’s been a year,” Lara teased, gently—but her eyes were like mir- rors as she turned to the woman and kissed her with a sudden, sinuous speed that reminded me inevitably of a serpent striking and devouring its prey.
The woman kissed Lara back helplessly, letting out a brief, intense scream—and then melted, her eyes rolling back.
Lara guided her down to the bed, where she lay in a boneless, whim- pering heap, jerking breaths in and shivering, her eyes as unfocused and vacant as those of any narcotics addict. The woman made small animal noises.
“Mmmm,” Lara purred, licking her lips. Then those silver eyes, swirling with faint whirls of violet and blue, so easy to stare at, turned to meet my gaze. She wasn’t afraid of my eyes anymore. She’d gazed upon my soul, and I upon hers, and she wasn’t afraid.
For a second, I wondered if I could say the same.
“Delicious little appetizer,” Lara murmured. She took my hand and drew me up from the bed. “But it’s time for the main course.”
“This is a dream,” I rasped aloud, and opened my eyes.
I found myself in my chambers in the basement of the castle. There were still a couple of candles burning. I had thrown the covers off me and was covered with sweat and trembling. Mister the cat looked up from the bed I’d made for him halfway up my bookshelf, and blinked his gold-green eyes at me, before arching his back, stretching a little, and settling back down again.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My head was pounding ferociously. My neck ached from collapsing with it at an odd angle on the pillow. I’d drunk too much Scotch, and my burning stomach crept around the inside of my torso as if looking for a way out.
On the low table next to the little couch in my room, there was still a Monopoly game set out. The place where I’d been sitting had very few dollars left next to the empty fifth. The empty spot across from me had most of the money and most of the properties.
No one was there.
“It doesn’t have to be a dream,” said my voice, from the other side of the room.
I twitched and squinted. I stepped out of the shadows. Well. Not me-me. It was that other guy. That other me. He was dressed in black and had a goatee and didn’t have as many scars as I knew I would have if I looked in the mirror. He didn’t look younger. Just infinitely better preserved.
“The hell was in that bottle?” I muttered.
“Veritas, maybe,” said my double. He went across the room and looked down at the Monopoly board, at the little dog and the thimble. “I’ve never understood why you like to be the thimble.”
“It’s useful,” I said. “And it protects.”
The other me snorted quietly.
“We’re going insane, aren’t we?” I asked.
He studied me soberly for a moment and then said, “We’re decid- ing.” He looked at me and shook his head. “There’s a future out there, you know.”
My heart tried to rip its way out of my chest and crawl over to the Monopoly board. “Fuck the future. I don’t want it.”
“That’s our pain talking,” the other me said.
“Our pain?” I demanded.
“I miss her, too,” he said. “She was a hero. It felt good to have a hero protecting us.”
“Fuck you,” I said in a flat, dead tone.
“Self-pity isn’t going to accomplish anything. For anyone.”
“I’m doing my fucking best. Asshole.”
“You know, you don’t talk like this to anyone else,” the other me pointed out. “Not to Mab. Not to Marcone. You didn’t even talk like this to the ghoul. You’ll curse at them, but you save the real venom for yourself.”
I sat there and thought about that for a moment.
“Just pointing out the obvious,” the other me said. He looked around my room. It was a mess. It was most nights. I would put it back together before I went out to face the day. He nodded toward the Monopoly board and said, “That really isn’t very healthy.”
“Don’t care,” I told him.
“Obviously.” He shook his head. “Look. I know we don’t always see eye to eye when it comes to your moral and ethical limitations.”
I snorted. “You and everyone else.”
He smiled briefly. “But have you even once considered that life with Lara would have its advantages?”
My body was still recalling the proposed advantages. It was uncom- fortable. It made me feel ashamed. And other things.
“You shouldn’t be ashamed of wanting to live,” the other me said. “Of wanting to embrace life.”
“Mind your own business,” I snapped.
He spread his hands and gave a helpless little roll of his eyes. “Watch Lara more closely,” he said. “You haven’t been seeing the same things I have.”
“Like what?” I demanded.
“Come on,” he said. “You know that’s not how I work.”
“Not interested,” I said.
He glanced at my hips and then shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Lara is a monster,” I said. “And I have a daughter.”
“Who needs you, and who will need you for a few more years,” he said. “And who then will face the world on her own, like all grown chil- dren. You have many tomorrows to think about.”
I let out a half-hysterical laugh. “Figure I should cut them short to be with Lara, eh?”
“Thomas and Justine seemed happy together,” he said reasonably. “What if you could strike a similar balance?”
“I had the balance I wanted,” I snapped.
“Did you?” he asked lightly. “Then why doesn’t Lara burn when she touches you?”
The air turned to crystal.
“You were with her,” said my other self. “You haven’t been with any- one else. If she loved you and you loved her, it should scorch Lara when she touches you. But it doesn’t. Don’t you think there’s some reason why?”
I snarled, surged to my feet, seized the water glass next to the bed, and threw it at the other me.
It shattered against the door to my room.
Two seconds later, Bear slammed my door open, sending the bolt fly- ing across the room as if it hadn’t actually been attached to the door and the frame. She was wearing a long white nightshirt that struggled to con- tain her arms, and her brown hair was down and fell to her waist. She had a knife with a blade as wide as my forearm in her hand that looked as if it could readily chop telephone poles, and her eyes were wide.
She stared at me and then around the room for a moment, her nos- trils flared.
We were alone.
I peered at her blearily.
“You all right?” she asked me.
I started to tell her I was fine.
Instead, I said, “What time is it?”
“Witching hour,” she said. “Three a.m.”
I nodded slowly. Then my stomach rolled and I took a staggering step toward the bathroom. I fell.
Bear stepped over the broken glass and caught me as if I were a child.
“Hey, easy,” she said. “Come on. Come on, you should have drunk that water.”
She helped me to the bathroom and got me there in time for me to hurl my guts out.
I collapsed to the tile floor shaking when I was done, my throat burning.
I felt weak.
I felt sad.
I felt lost.
I felt hollow.
I felt like tomorrow had stopped existing.
There was only a constant now, a single ongoing, endless hour of pain.
Of loss.
“Dresden,” Bear said gently. “Hey.”
I opened my eyes.
She towered over me like some kind of vast sailing ship.
Her hand was held out. Her broad face was gentle.
“Come on, seidrmadr,” she said gently. “You can take my hand.”
My arm felt unbearably heavy. But I did it.
Bear hauled me up. I wasn’t able to give her any more help. There just wasn’t the will inside me. But she took me to the bed. She was careful with me. She took a cold rag to my face and neck. She made me sip some water that had the fizzy sensation of some kind of effervescent antacid. My head pounded abominably. She got me settled into bed about the same time I started shivering. She covered me and started singing.
Her voice was astoundingly melodic, gentle, and precise. I didn’t know the language, and the rhythms were strange. It sounded old, old. A song from a world that had been all but forgotten. It sounded steady. Reassuring. Patient. As if she could continue it all night if she needed to.
I thought I was going to cry but I was just too damned tired.
And that was the first time since Murphy died that I slept until dawn.
I have an intellectual property attorney, the wonderful Leonard Duboff of the Duboff Law Group, who I recommend without hesitation to anyone in need of an IP attorney; he’s awesome.
When I first received a demand email from Copytrack, I knew instantly it was a scam; they were complaining about an image that I licensed from Depositphotos, with whom I have a subscription. I informed them I was represented by counsel, gave them my lawyer’s contact information, told them I would not be acknowledging any additional complaints that did not come through my attorney from a lawyer who was a member of the Oregon Bar Association and licensed to practice law in the state of Oregon, and assumed that would be the end of the matter.
David Attenborough voice: “That was not, in fact, the end of the matter.”
Copytrack continued to bombard me with fake copyright claims, in violation of Oregon RPC 4.2, which forbids opposing counsel from contacting anyone represented by an attorney.
Copytrack is clearly, egregiously, grossly, and repeatedly in violation of Oregon RPC 4.2, so I have shifted track.
I sent them a notification that as they were in violation of RPC 4.2, for each individual email they sent me, I would invoice them the sum of $1,800 US.
They emailed me again. I sent them an invoice for $1,800.
This morning, I woke to an email from a Copytrack lawyer telling me he didn’t think they should have to pay me in order to contact me.
I reminded him once again that I am represented by counsel, that by contacting me directly he was in violation of Oregon RPC 4.2, and…
…sent him another invoice for an additional $1,800.
For the record, I’m not joking. It is absolutely my intent to collect on these invoices, using all available avenues to the full extent of the law. If these fuckers think they can scam people out of money with fraudulent copyright requests, I intend to give them a nose full of bees.
Handledsenhetspionjären Pebble återuppstod förra våren efter nio års dvala. Nu har Pebble presenterat en ny version av klockan Round med det passande namnet Round 2. Första modellen lanserades på Kickstarter år 2012.
Specialiteten med Pebble är intakt: e-pappersskärmar, lång batteritid och en annorlunda design. Pebble Round 2 erbjuder en bakbelyst 1,3-tums pekskärm (e-papper) med 64 färger, 260 x 260 pixlar, samt boett i rostfritt stål.
Utöver pekskärmen kan klockan styras genom fyra fysiska knappar. Klockan har en mikrofon, högtalare, vibrationsmotor och en vattentålig konstruktion. Mjukvaran kan hålla reda på steg och sömn och erbjuder över 10 000 olika urtavlor via Pebble Appstore.
Batteritiden är 10–14 dagar på en laddning. Armbanden har storlekarna 14 mm eller 20 mm och det finns fyra olika färger för klockan att välja mellan. Priset ligger på 199 dollar. Pebble Round 2 ska börja levereras i maj enligt hemsidan.
That someone is none other than the first Captain America, Steve Rogers, played once again by Chris Evans. When we last saw Steve, he abandoned all those he knew and loved in our present day to live in the past with Peggy Carter. The teaser, according to Variety, shows Steve riding a motorcycle up to his home on a farm (because of course he lives on a farm). He stops, admires his helmet, which looks not unlike Cap’s helmet, and also admires a baby that, we assume, is his and Peggy’s. The Avengers theme is played on a piano over all of this, and the clip ends with a countdown timer to the premiere date of Avengers: Doomsday, which is just under a year away.
The teaser is reportedly just one of several that Marvel will be releasing in the upcoming weeks, with each one focused on a different character. For this one with Steve Rogers, the questions are many: Where and when is this farm, including what timeline in the multiverse? Where is Peggy? Where is this baby in our present time, assuming this teaser is a flashback? Is this the Steve Rogers we know from previous films, or is this another Steve Rogers from the aforementioned multiverse? And what is time, really?
The answers to these are still elusive, but we have 364 days to mull over them: Avengers: Doomsday premieres in theaters on December 18, 2026.
*Note: Since this article originally ran, the Steve Rogers trailer has been officially uploaded. Here it is in all its relative glory. [end-mark]
Pirataktivister påstås ha tagit 86 miljoner musikfiler från Spotify genom dataskrapning, samt laddat hem metadata för 99,9 procent av alla spår på tjänsten. Innehållet distribueras genom en cirka 300 TB stor torrent som ska innehålla nästan all av musiken på Spotify som folk faktiskt lyssnar på.
Personerna som ligger bakom dataskrapningen säger sig ha genomfört piratkopieringen av princip och övertygelse. I inlägget – med rubriken ”Säkerhetskopiering av Spotify” – kallas torrenten för världens första helt öppna digitala bevarandearkiv för musik, vilket kan speglas av alla som har tillräckligt med diskutrymme.
En talesperson för Spotify säger till Billboard att illasinnade konton som begått olaglig dataskrapning har identifierats och inaktiverats. Spotify ska ha implementerat nya skydd för ”den här typen av anti-upphovsrättsattacker”.
Spotify has identified and disabled the nefarious user accounts that engaged in unlawful scraping. We’ve implemented new safeguards for these types of anti-copyright attacks and are actively monitoring for suspicious behavior. Since day one, we have stood with the artist community against piracy, and we are actively working with our industry partners to protect creators and defend their rights.
Nederländska Fairphone har idag introducerat de trådlösa over-ear-hörlurarna Fairbuds XL. Precis som för Fairphones övriga produkter ligger fokus på miljötänk och hållbarhet. Konstruktionen består i hög grad av återvunnet material och är enkel att reparera, tack vare en modulär design. Det ska gå att plocka isär hörlurarna på bara några minuter med en vanlig skruvmejsel.
Fairphone utlovar tre års garanti. Batteriet är utbytbart och ska ha kvar minst 80 procent av sin kapacitet efter 500 kompletta laddningscykler (att småladda då och då är inte en full cykel). Att ladda batteriet från tom nivå till 50 procent tar en kvart.
Med aktiv brusreducering igång är batteritiden upp till 26 timmar och 30 timmar med ANC avstängt. Som vanligt går det att släppa in externt ljud om så önskas, för att exempelvis kunna prata med folk i omgivningen utan att behöva ta av sig hörlurarna.
Fairbuds XL erbjuder vidare 40 mm dynamiska högtalarelement, ett frekvensomfång på 20 Hz – 20 kHz, sex mikrofoner, IP54-klassning, samt stöd för kodekarna SBC, AAC och Aptx HD. Anslutning sker via Bluetooth 5.1, men det går även att lyssna via USB-C-kabel. Enligt Fairphone är hörlurarna kompatibla med Google-assistenten (som snart försvinner), Alexa och Siri. Allt väger 330 gram.
Hörlurarna kan vikas in så de tar mindre plats och enklare kan packas. Ett resefodral ingår. Priset ligger på 249 euro när Fairbuds XL beställs från tillverkarens webb.
Google-flödet har börjat låta AI göra absurda omskrivningar av artikelrubriker. Många av de ändrade rubrikerna är inte bara dåliga utan direkt missvisande eller felaktiga, likt att ”Qi2 slöar ned äldre Pixlar”.
Utöver att de reviderade rubrikerna ibland varit rena galenskaper vill personerna som har skrivit de ursprungliga rubrikerna sannolikt inte att de ska ändras godtyckligt överhuvudtaget. Gränssnittet poängterar inte att rubriken är ändrad av AI, så läsare riskerar att tro att källan ligger bakom blundern.
I en kommentar till The Verge säger Google att det handlar om ett ”experiment” för att göra ämnen enklare att ”smälta”. Google har tagit sig friheter med den öppna webben senaste året, inte minst genom AI-svaren som anses ha kraftigt minskat trafiken till hemsidor.
We are testing a new design that changes the placement of existing headlines to make topic details easier to digest before they explore links from across the web
