While waiting for the turkey to finish brining, we're designing a board for using WLED - and we want to make like the bestest board in the whole world.
Our resident mermaid, firepixie
, makes a lot of projects with WLED, and she loves it! So, how can we make something that will be powerful but not too bulky? Here are some things we're thinking about as the design starts to congeal like cranberry sauce:
Power via USB Type C PD with a slide switch that selects between 5, 12, and 20V (24V pixels can usually run fine at 20V) OR via a 2.1mm DC jack. With ideal diodes, it's good for up to 5A from either.
ESP32-Mini module with built-in or optional wFL antenna port. The classic '32 has broad support, even if we'd prefer the 'S2 or 'S3.
There are three output signal terminal block sets, with power and ground for each. They'll be level-shifted to 5V.
Built in I2S microphone (we're still pondering this one).
Stemma QT I2C port to connect external sensors/OLEDs/etc.; separate analog/digital input JST port.
1.3"x1.75" / 33mm x 45mm size with mounting holes.
Desk of Ladyada! Post-Turkey updates from Ladyada! We tested new boards (minor FPC tweak, no respin needed) and started designing a sleek WLED board with help from firepixie & the community. Plus, check out The Great Search for high-power diodes and Day 1 of Retrocomputing Advent: Apple II nostalgia! https://youtu.be/JL_V4hA1TZE
You mentioned someone’s fem!Harry/Marco fics in one of your answers to the Fic Ask Meme and I was wondering if you would share the title or author?
Yes! @silencia20 is 100% guilty of making me ship this pairing, but I don’t know if she’s written/posted anything with it yet, unfortunately (wanna help me slather her in praise and worship to encourage her to write more???). The story in question is Firepixie, and you can find it on Silencia’s tumblr :)
She and I talk a lot, and that’s what really spawned the shipping…
I promised my friend that I'd post this and then never did because I'm mean and I'm sorry. I was inspired by the song 1000 Times by Sara Bareilles.
He stands at the back of the bar, unseen, watching the sandy-haired hunter as he downs another shot of what can only be assumed to be whiskey. Cas never been one for bars, with the exception being the ones that Dean is in.
Sometimes he’s visible, but more often than not he remains invisible, content to watch the Winchesters.
Sam is usually the first to leave, citing being tired or research as an excuse to go back to the motel and sleep. Dean, however, will stay till almost closing time just to drink and hit on women. When Cas is visible, he will stay with him.
Even when he isn’t visible, Cas stays to watch the human he tore straight from hell. Perhaps the other angels are right when they say that he has a weakness for this particular human.
Not that Cas really had a choice in it. There are many things the angel believes, but he knows that he was the one to raise Dean for a reason. He was profoundly bonded to him because of things he can’t even begin to comprehend.
For some, that thought would be comforting. For Castiel, it just means a little more of wanting the things he can never have. This fact is forcibly driven home each time Dean brings home a woman or, as he is doing now, hitting on another woman in a bar.
With a sigh, he steps into the dark corner and wishes that he had a beer. His vessel did still have some cravings, but somehow Castiel knows that this is his own desire, not Jimmy’s.
At times it is infuriating, he admits as Dean leans closer and drops his voice to almost a growl. He has given up so much for these two humans that it seems almost irrational. From raising Dean from Hell, dying, raising Sam from the cage, and even being kicked out of heaven on their account, Cas can’t even recall why he would do it until he hears it.
It’s a sound he can never forget, nor would he want to. At the bar something has made Dean laugh, the hunter’s sage eyes brightening in the dim light. The sound seems to pierce straight through to his grace, which makes his very soul shiver. Yes, that had to be it. Everything was to see this broken, scruffy human laugh and smile.
Cas knows that Dean has been angry with him plenty of times, and so he stays silent and as distant as he can be while being profoundly bonded to him. Yet he knows exactly how many steps it would take for him to reach Dean – thirty five and a half – in case he needed to. Cas could pick out the exact shade of Dean’s hair in a crowd, could tell you the particular shade of green that his eyes are, his favorite beer, which whiskey he prefers on the bad nights, his favorite pie – apple of course – and how it should be served, and the way that Dean sleeps above the covers, sprawled out like he owns the bed.
He also knows that Sam has his suspicions about the nature of the profound bond Cas has to Dean. But what Sam doesn’t know is how Cas will occasionally bring Dean home from those nights that slip away from him, the nights where Dean can hardly drive the Impala, much less walk. He also doesn’t know how Cas will deposit Dean in bed and even though he knows he shouldn’t, the angel will occasionally place a kiss on the hunter’s forehead.
It’s probably the most indecent thing Castiel’s ever done to another human being and likely the most chaste thing Dean’s ever had done to him by someone else.
Even though he’s invisible, Cas can’t help but freeze when Dean looks directly at him and smiles that solemn, almost smug smile of his. Like he knows that he’s there but won’t say anything. And of course, hours later, Cas is the one dragging Dean out of the Impala and into the motel where Sam is already asleep under the sheets.
Gingerly, the angel puts Dean onto the bed in the most natural way he can find. He freezes solid when Dean shifts and grabs onto the pillow before going still.
As per usual, Castiel sits in the armchair that the room has, his eyes stuck to Dean. What the angel will never know is how worried the hunter is when the angel is not around, how he doesn’t let anyone touch him when the angel is wounded, with the exception of maybe Sam or Bobby, how he will instinctively angle his body towards Cas whenever he’s in the room, and how Dean will always, always defend Castiel to anyone who says otherwise.
Cas doesn’t know any of that. All he knows is that his bond to Dean is something he can’t understand or explain and no matter how many times he has to bite his tongue – a hundred, a thousand, hell, even ten thousand – Castiel will be there at Dean’s side.
