#Bulk waste collections

[hireskipbinadelaide-blog]

Simple Tips to Help In Green Waste Removal

Garbage generation and waste collection, waste management, etc., are everyday activities that we all have a little bit of idea of. However, we often miss the fact that rubbish removal companies categorise the waste into different parts, and one of the most talked about categories is green waste. People have significantly less idea of what this green waste is, and hence, we have come up with this post discussing this relatively new category and what is done as a part of green waste management.

What Defines Green Waste?

The name signifies that green waste is mainly a combination of plants, trees and other flora. But this is not the end of the definition, as several things are added to this category by companies offering rubbish removal services and waste removal services in Adelaide. Green waste can include everything biodegradable, like tree branches, grass padding, flowers, weeds, etc. Apart from this, food scraps and fruits falling in the category of composting waste are also included in this category by rubbish removal companies.

This garbage is dumped in the green bin, and if you see this bin, it means that it has all the green waste dumped.

How To Dispose Green Waste Safely?

Experts from waste removal Adelaide companies recommend five different methods for safe rubbish removal and disposal of green waste.

Green Waste Bin

This is a classic option available for green rubbish removal, and it can store the green waste and be emptied when full. According to waste management companies, this is the most consistent form of green waste removal, but it also has some downsides. This size limit is the first limitation, followed by the fact that they are completely ineffective in bigger projects.

Verge Waste Collection

Some city councils and local authorities run this waste collection campaign annually. It is an excellent opportunity to dispose of green waste successfully. You can use it as a reliable and consistent option for rubbish removal services and waste removal in Adelaide.

Shredding Up the Green Waste

Another awe-inspiring idea is shedding the green waste to make space between branches, leaves, etc. However, this method is used with green bins, as they are very reliable for waste clearing and collection.

Incineration

Another advantageous but not-so-recommended method is burning green waste or green waste incineration. It is recommended to check with the local authorities before using this method. For those who prefer a clear conscience, the best idea is to continue shredding green waste and using green bins for waste collection.

Lastly, skip bins are always available for waste removal and green waste collection in Adelaide. Several companies offer economical skip bins of different sizes, and you can rent them as an ideal waste disposal method.

[mwrecycles]

In today's rapidly advancing scientific landscape, the proper disposal of lab equipment and medical machines has become a critical concern. In Singapore, the increasing volume of waste generated by laboratories necessitates a responsible approach to disposal. With regulations in place to protect the environment and public health, safe and eco-friendly disposal services have emerged as essential components of waste management.

[happypandajunkremoval]

Garbage Collection Company: Streamlined Services for Everyone

In our modern world, where convenience and efficiency are essential, reliable garbage collection has become increasingly important. As urban areas expand and populations grow, the challenge of waste management intensifies. Garbage collection companies play a crucial role in maintaining cleanliness, public health, and environmental sustainability. In this blog, we’ll explore how these companies streamline their services to cater to households, businesses, and communities alike.

The Role of Garbage Collection Companies

Garbage collection companies are vital in ensuring the safe and efficient removal of waste from various sources, including residential, commercial, and industrial sectors. Their services go beyond mere trash pickup; they are key players in waste management strategies that promote environmental health.

Why Waste Management Matters

Effective waste management is not just about collecting trash; it involves a series of activities aimed at minimizing environmental impact. Key aspects include:

Collection and Transportation: Efficient systems to gather and transport waste to disposal or recycling facilities.

Disposal: Safe methods for disposing of waste, such as landfilling or incineration.

Recycling and Composting: Converting materials into reusable resources to reduce landfill usage.

Public Education: Raising awareness about waste reduction and responsible disposal.

Proper waste management is essential for maintaining community health and environmental integrity. It helps reduce pollution, conserve resources, and foster sustainable practices.

Streamlined Services Provided by Garbage Collection Companies

Garbage collection companies are continuously evolving to meet customer needs, employing innovative strategies and technologies. Here are some of the key services that enhance efficiency and customer satisfaction:

1. Customized Collection Schedules

Recognizing that each household and business has unique waste disposal needs, many companies now offer customizable collection schedules. Clients can choose collection days that best suit their needs, whether weekly, bi-weekly, or on-demand. This flexibility helps prevent overflow and ensures effective waste management.

2. Multiple Waste Streams

Modern garbage collection companies encourage waste segregation by offering separate collection services for:

General Waste: Non-recyclable items.

Recyclables: Paper, plastics, glass, and metals.

Organic Waste: Food scraps and yard waste for composting.

By promoting waste separation at the source, these companies facilitate recycling and composting, significantly reducing landfill waste.

3. Advanced Technology Integration

Technology plays a crucial role in optimizing garbage collection. Innovations like GPS tracking and route optimization enhance operational efficiency:

GPS Tracking: Allows companies to monitor their fleet in real-time, ensuring timely pickups and minimizing fuel consumption.

Route Optimization: Algorithms determine the most efficient collection routes, reducing travel time and operational costs.

4. Bulk Waste Collection Services

Many companies provide bulk waste collection for larger items that regular trash services cannot handle. This includes furniture, appliances, and yard waste. Scheduled bulk pickups make it easier for residents to dispose of large items responsibly.

5. Recycling Programs and Incentives

To promote recycling, many companies have implemented programs that incentivize customers, such as:

Discounts for Recycling: Reduced rates for clients who consistently recycle.

Educational Workshops: Community events that teach proper recycling practices.

Recycling Contests: Friendly competitions that encourage neighborhoods to increase their recycling efforts.

These initiatives not only divert waste from landfills but also foster a culture of sustainability.

6. E-Waste Collection Services

With the rapid advancement of technology, electronic waste (e-waste) poses significant environmental challenges. Many garbage collection companies now offer specialized services for e-waste collection and disposal, ensuring safe handling of harmful materials. Services can include:

Drop-off Events: Opportunities for residents to bring in e-waste for safe disposal.

Partnerships with Certified Recyclers: Collaborations that ensure e-waste is processed responsibly.

7. Community Engagement and Support

Garbage collection companies actively engage with their local communities to raise awareness about waste management. This includes sponsoring clean-up days, participating in environmental fairs, and providing educational resources on waste reduction. Community involvement fosters a sense of responsibility and encourages sustainable behaviors.

Environmental Impact of Garbage Collection Services

The work of garbage collection companies extends beyond maintaining cleanliness; it significantly impacts environmental health. Here are some key benefits:

1. Reduced Landfill Waste

By promoting recycling and composting, garbage collection companies help divert waste from landfills. This not only conserves space but also minimizes greenhouse gas emissions from decomposing organic matter.

2. Conservation of Resources

Recycling programs allow valuable materials to be recovered and reused, reducing the need for new resources. This conservation effort leads to lower energy consumption and decreased pollution.

3. Pollution Prevention

Efficient waste collection practices help prevent illegal dumping and littering, protecting land and waterways from contamination. Reliable services contribute to cleaner, healthier environments.

4. Support for Sustainable Practices

Through community education and engagement, garbage collection companies promote sustainable practices, encouraging individuals and businesses to adopt greener habits, such as reducing single-use plastics and composting.

Challenges Faced by Garbage Collection Companies

Despite their vital role, garbage collection companies encounter several challenges in delivering streamlined services:

1. Increasing Waste Generation

As populations grow and consumption patterns change, the amount of waste generated continues to rise. Companies must adapt to increasing demand while maintaining efficiency.

2. Contamination of Recyclables

Contamination—when non-recyclable items are placed in recycling bins—remains a significant challenge. This can lead to entire loads being sent to landfills, undermining recycling efforts. Educating the public on proper recycling practices is essential.

3. Regulatory Compliance

Navigating complex regulations and environmental laws can be daunting. Garbage collection companies must stay compliant while providing quality services, particularly smaller firms that may lack resources.

4. Infrastructure Limitations

In some areas, outdated infrastructure hinders efficient waste collection and processing. Upgrading facilities and equipment requires significant investment, posing challenges for many companies.

The Future of Garbage Collection Services

As we look ahead, the garbage collection industry is set for transformation. Several trends and innovations are shaping the future of waste management:

1. Enhanced Automation

Automation is expected to play a larger role in waste collection. Automated trucks, robotic sorting systems, and AI-driven analytics can streamline operations and improve efficiency.

2. Greater Emphasis on Sustainability

With increasing awareness of environmental issues, garbage collection companies are likely to prioritize sustainable practices further. This may involve expanding recycling programs and exploring waste-to-energy technologies.

3. Smart City Initiatives

As cities evolve, garbage collection services will be integrated into broader urban planning efforts. Real-time data collection and improved coordination with other municipal services are likely to enhance efficiency.

4. Community-Centric Approaches

Future services will continue to focus on community engagement and education. By fostering partnerships with residents, businesses, and local organizations, companies can create tailored solutions that address specific community needs.

Conclusion

Garbage collection companies are essential to maintaining public health, environmental sustainability, and community cleanliness. Through streamlined services, advanced technology, and community involvement, these companies are evolving to meet diverse client needs.

As challenges in waste management grow, the importance of effective garbage collection becomes increasingly clear. By supporting these companies and adopting responsible waste practices, we can all contribute to a cleaner, healthier, and more sustainable future. Whether you’re a homeowner, business owner, or community leader, understanding the value of garbage collection services is crucial in our collective effort to manage waste responsibly and protect our planet.

[soloau21]

Bulk Waste Collection

Solo Resource Recovery offers efficient bulk waste collection services suitable for heavy-duty disposal needs in business settings, utilizing large-scale bins that comply with environmental regulations to ensure safe and responsible waste management​ (Solo)​.

[chiyuuchu]

Who the hell would buy a Labubu? <3 (3rd November 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! Bakugou overhears his crush whining over wanting a Labubu and goes out of his way for it

The cafeteria was shrouding with the latest trend: Labubu figures. Everywhere you looked, someone seemed to be talking about them, pulling up pictures on their phones, or showing off new additions to their collections. The Bakusquad was no exception.

“Dude, have you seen these things?” Kaminari said, scrolling through his phone and shoving it in Bakugou’s direction. “They’re called Labubu. Apparently, they’re, like, the hottest thing right now.”

Bakugou gave the screen a disgusted look, raising an eyebrow at the tiny creature with big, weird eyes and a goofy grin. “What the hell is that? And who’d pay that much for something so ugly?”

Kirishima chuckled, trying to explain. “I dunno, man, it’s kinda cute in a strange way. People are obsessed with them. They’re even blind boxes, so you don’t know which one you’re gonna get until you open it.”

Bakugou scoffed. “So you’re telling me people are throwing cash away on some creepy-looking gremlin they don’t even get to choose? That’s dumb.”

Just as he was shaking his head, he heard a familiar laugh nearby. He glanced over to see Y/N with a few of the other girls, chatting excitedly, and his ears perked up when he caught her mention the word “Labubu.”

“I’ve wanted one for ages,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling as she spoke. “Especially the pink one, Dada. It’s so cute! I’ve tried to find it, but it’s sold out everywhere.”

Mina nodded enthusiastically. “They’re hard to get your hands on right now. But I bet you’ll find one soon, Y/N! They’re so you.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows knitted together as he watched her. He didn’t get the appeal of those weird little figures, but seeing Y/N light up while talking about it stirred something he couldn’t quite ignore.

Turning back to his friends, he scowled even harder. “It’s still ugly,” he muttered, though now his mind was racing with the thought of Y/N smiling with one of those creepy toys in her hands.

He didn’t get the appeal, but… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try finding one for her anyway.

Bakugou pushed through the door of the specialty store, the bell jingling above him. He took a quick glance around, noting the colorful shelves lined with various Labubu figures. Each one looked weirder than the last, and he scowled at the thought of spending money on such ridiculous toys.

“Can I help you?” the cashier asked, her friendly tone grating on his nerves.

“Yeah, I need one of those Labubu things,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Which one?” she replied, eyeing him curiously.

“Uh, the pink one. The Dada,” he muttered, trying to sound casual.

“Oh! That one’s really popular,” she said, her eyes brightening. “But it’s a blind box, so you won’t know if you get it until you open it.”

Bakugou frowned, the frustration boiling in his chest. “What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know if I get the pink one?”

“It’s random,” she explained, shrugging. “You can buy one box, but there’s no guarantee.”

He huffed, feeling the pressure of time ticking away. Y/N had been talking about wanting a Labubu for weeks, and if he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure he got the right one. “Fine, give me six.”

The cashier blinked in surprise. “You want a bulk pack?”

“Just give me the damn boxes!” he snapped, not wanting to waste time debating. The thought of Y/N’s smile pushed him to act, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.

After paying for the bulk pack, he exited the store, the weight of the bag heavy in his hands. He couldn’t help but feel a mix of embarrassment and determination as he headed back to the dorm.

Once he got inside, Bakugou tossed the bag onto his bed and unzipped it, revealing the six colorful Labubu boxes inside. He could feel a sense of anticipation building up in him. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, grabbing the first box.

With each box he opened, his heart raced. The first one revealed a bright green Labubu with silly eyes. “Nope,” he said, tossing it aside.

He tore through the second box, revealing a blue one. “Not it either,” he grumbled, throwing it next to the first.

The third box contained a purple Labubu, which only added to his growing annoyance. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, grabbing the fourth box.

As he opened the fourth, a yellow Labubu stared back at him, and he groaned loudly. “Why is this so hard?”

He moved to the fifth box, desperate for a win. But it only brought another bizarre figure. “Are you kidding me?!” he shouted, tossing it aside in frustration.

Finally, he reached the last box, his heart pounding with hope. He ripped it open, pulling the figure out slowly.

As the pink Labubu came into view, his breath hitched. “Yes! Finally!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. It was the Dada Labubu, the one Y/N had wanted the most.

Bakugou quickly shoved the figure back into its box, a grin spreading across his face. He couldn’t wait to see Y/N’s reaction when he surprised her with it.

“Now I just have to figure out how to give this to her without making it weird,” he murmured, already plotting the perfect moment to reveal his secret.

Class 1-A was buzzing with excitement and chatter during lunch, but Bakugou barely noticed. All he could focus on was the small, carefully wrapped box sitting in his bag, and his heart was beating a little faster than he wanted to admit.

He glanced across the classroom at Y/N, who was laughing with Mina, and felt a surge of warmth he tried hard to ignore. For weeks, she’d been talking nonstop about how she couldn’t find a Labubu figure anywhere. She’d checked every store, every website, but they were sold out, leaving her heartbroken and, to his quiet dismay, a bit gloomy.

Bakugou had found himself listening to her without meaning to, her excitement and disappointment lingering in his mind longer than he’d expected. After a while, he couldn’t shake it; he’d gotten up, practically stormed through every store he could think of, and, by some miracle, found the last Labubu in stock. It was ridiculous how much effort he’d gone through—but he’d done it. For her.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, box in hand. The class quieted as they noticed him crossing the room, eyes widening in surprise when he stopped in front of Y/N’s desk.

“Bakugou?” she asked, looking up at him with a puzzled smile.

He held out the box, clearing his throat as he forced himself to meet her gaze. “Here. Since you wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Her eyes widened, realization dawning as she carefully took the box from his hands, hands slightly trembling. “Wait… no way…”

“Yeah, it’s that damn Labubu you kept going on about,” he muttered, his voice softer than usual. “Figured you’d be happier if you had it.”

Her expression shifted from disbelief to awe as she looked at him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart stutter. She opened the box slowly, as if savoring the moment, and when she saw the figure, her eyes filled with happiness and something else—a warmth that made his face feel unexpectedly hot.

“Bakugou… thank you,” she whispered, her voice gentle, like he was seeing a side of her she usually kept hidden. She bit her lip, staring at the Labubu and then back at him. “I can’t believe you actually found it. I’ve wanted this for so long, and you… you really did this for me?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he grumbled, looking away, his cheeks dusted pink. “It was just… annoying to hear you complain about it every day.”

But she only laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

The class, watching the exchange, started to murmur, sharing knowing glances and grins. Kaminari leaned over to Kirishima, whispering, “Dude, Bakugou’s totally got it bad.”

“Shut up, idiots!” Bakugou barked, his voice snapping the class back into silence, but the embarrassment only made him redder.

Y/N giggled, and without thinking, she stepped closer and hugged him, burying her face against his shoulder. “Thank you, Bakugou. Really. This means so much to me.”

He froze, feeling the warmth of her arms around him, and for a split second, all his defenses melted away. His hand hovered before he slowly placed a palm on her head, just for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, only for her to hear.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes sparkled with joy. “Guess I owe you one now, huh?”

“Tch, whatever,” he muttered, but his gaze softened as he watched her. “Just… don’t lose it, alright?”

She nodded, clutching the figure to her chest. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Open it,” he said, crossing his arms, trying to look indifferent. “If you’re lucky, it’ll be the one you wanted, right?”

She grinned, carefully unwrapping the box with everyone watching, the anticipation building in the air. The class waited with bated breath as she peeled back the top, lifting out the mystery figure. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she slowly unwrapped it, revealing…

A flash of pink fur.

She gasped, holding up the tiny pink Labubu figure—Dada. It was the exact one she’d been hoping for, the one she’d mentioned every time the topic came up.

The girls beside her all gasped.

“No way! It’s Dada! The pink one!” she squealed, looking up at him with a mixture of shock and happiness. “Bakugou, this is the one I wanted most!”

He shrugged, fighting a smirk. “Guess you got lucky, then.”

She stared at the figure, clearly overwhelmed, then met his eyes with a soft smile that made his heart skip. “Thank you, Bakugou. Really. This is perfect.”

The class burst into soft laughter and teasing whispers, and Kirishima nudged him with a grin. “Aw, man, you really went all out!”

Bakugou scowled, looking away to hide the warmth creeping up his face. “I just wanted some peace and quiet, alright?”

But Y/N only laughed, cradling her Dada Labubu, and gave him a look that told him she saw right through him. And, just this once, Bakugou didn’t mind.

After the excitement of lunch had settled and the class had dispersed, Bakugou found himself sitting alone in his room, staring at the collection of Labubu boxes he still had. He’d returned home with the six he’d bought, but after seeing Y/N’s joy, he hadn’t had the heart to keep the rest.

He picked up the boxes one by one, contemplating what to do with them. They were all the same—a mix of colors and characters he couldn’t remember the names of, each one just as bizarre as the last. He scowled, trying to shake off the thought that maybe he could just toss them or give them to someone else.

With a sigh, he stood and marched over to Y/N’s room, rapping his knuckles against her door. “Hey! You in there?”

A muffled voice called back, “Yeah, just a second!” The sound of shuffling filled the air before the door swung open to reveal Y/N, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Uh… I was thinking.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know what to do with these,” he said, gesturing to the boxes. “So, here.”

He shoved them into her arms, watching as her eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what? Bakugou, are you serious?” She looked down at the colorful boxes, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah, yeah. Just take them. I don’t want them.” He shrugged, trying to play it cool even though he felt a rush of warmth at seeing her so happy.

Y/N laughed in disbelief as she glanced at the boxes, her heart racing with excitement. “But… these are all so expensive! Are you sure you don’t want them?”

“Does it look like I want them?” Bakugou snapped, but he didn’t mean to sound harsh. “I already got you the pink one. Just take them, dammit!”

She was still processing, her mind racing with thoughts. “I can’t believe you’re giving me all of these. Bakugou, this is so generous of you!”

He scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Don’t go making it weird. I just didn’t want to deal with them.”

But as she looked up at him, her smile genuine and bright, he felt something shift in his chest. “Wait, you’re keeping the yellow one, right?”

Bakugou blinked, the question catching him off guard. “What? No, I just—”

“Wait, you like Labubu?” she asked, tilting her head with a teasing grin.

“W-What? No!” He turned red, the rush of embarrassment hitting him like a tidal wave. “I mean, it’s just… it’s growing on me, okay?”

She laughed, clearly enjoying his flustered state. “Yeah, right! Just admit it! You like them.”

“Shut up!” he barked, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward against his will.

“You do! I knew it!” she teased, playfully nudging him.

Bakugou huffed, turning his head away, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, those weird little figures weren’t so bad after all. Not when they made her smile like that.

The next day, the sun shone brightly over U.A. as Bakugou made his way to class, still riding the high of Y/N's delighted reaction to her pink Labubu. But as he entered the classroom, the teasing atmosphere hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Look who’s proud of his new friend!” Kaminari called out, pointing at Bakugou’s backpack, where the yellow Labubu dangled from a clip. “Nice one, Bakugou! Is that your pet now?”

Bakugou glared at him, scowling as he rolled his eyes. “Shut the hell up, you idiot. It’s just a stupid thing.”

“Stupid?!” Kirishima laughed, leaning over to get a better look. “You’re the one who bought six of them! And now you’ve got one clipped to your bag? Sounds like you’re a fan!”

“Just because I bought one doesn’t mean I’m a fan!” Bakugou snapped, the heat rising in his cheeks. “I’m just making sure it doesn’t get lost, dumbass.”

Just then, Y/N walked in, her own bag swinging at her side, the pink Labubu proudly displayed as it dangled from the strap. The moment her classmates spotted her, the teasing escalated.

“Hey, Y/N! Looks like you and Bakugou have matching accessories!” Mina chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Isn’t that adorable?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she smiled, glancing over at Bakugou, who was scowling like he was about to explode. “I guess so! I mean, he found it for me after all,” she said, her tone light and playful.

Bakugou tried to suppress the grin that threatened to break through as Y/N beamed at him, but his friends weren’t having it.

“Aww, Bakugou! You two are, like, Labubu buddies now!” Kaminari teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Next thing we know, you’ll be collecting them together!”

“Shut up!” Bakugou growled, though the edge of his voice was dulled by a hint of embarrassment. “It’s just a coincidence!”

“Yeah, right,” Kirishima chuckled. “I can see it now: ‘Bakugou and Y/N, the ultimate Labubu collectors!’”

“Ugh! Just drop it already!” Bakugou shouted, crossing his arms defensively. He tried to focus on the board, but he could feel Y/N’s gaze on him, a mix of amusement and something softer that made his heart race.

As the laughter and teasing continued, Y/N stepped closer to Bakugou, a playful glint in her eye. “You know, I think you look cute with your little Labubu,” she said, her voice teasing yet sincere. “And it really suits you.”

Bakugou’s cheeks burned, and he turned away quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Tch! It’s not cute! It’s just… it’s just practical!”

But Y/N’s laughter echoed in his ears, and as he caught her smile, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in his chest. Maybe having the yellow Labubu wasn’t so bad after all.

[magicwithclass]

Reserved List

There are over 500 Magic the Gathering cards on the reserved list. This list is a promise to never reprint these cards in paper which means, that for these cards, the copies that exist are the only copies that will ever exist. The reserved list only comprises of sets from before the year 2000 so most reserve list cards are 25 years old minimum. You would think that the cards on the reserve list would all be astronomically high but very few are over a dollar. Many feel that the reserved list will eventually be rescinded but the failure of the 30th anniversary edition cards makes this seem unlikely especially in the modern era. It seems like a lot of money is in newer Magic cards especially with the advent of serialized Magic cards. Now may be the time to move in to bulk Magic the Gathering reserved list cards. Every year the number of reserve list cards in circulation dwindle. Cards get lost or destroyed or they enter vaults never to see circulation ever again due to investors and speculators. At the moment, old school Magic seems to be at an all time low so this might be time to move in to reserve list cards. I recently purchased a couple hundred reserved list cards in various conditions and over the next couple of weeks I will post them online and explain the logic behind my purchase. Am I simply wasting money buying bulk that will never rise above a buck? Am I a fool for diversifying my purchases instead of focusing on one specific reserved list card and attempting to buy it out? Only time will tell. However, I really do have a love and a passion for the cards and it makes me feel a part of the community to have a piece of magic history in my hands. It is an interesting feeling to own something where there are only a certain number of copies on earth. Isn't this the appeal of serial numbered cards? Are serialized cards just a modern day reserved list for a new era? After all, most of the cards on the reserved list are cheap for a reason. They are simply unplayable in the modern magic the gathering era in almost all formats. Most serialized cards are chosen because they see play and are highly sought after cards. Any cards seeing a lot of play on the reserved list are already astronomically expensive so what is the point? Well, no one can see the future and some cards that were completely unplayable just need the right card printed to become all stars. The only question is which cards will reach that echelon. Yes, I have some opinions on which cards are more likely to see possible play in the future but you never know. That is why I want to diversify my assets. Should a reserve list card below one dollar spike card I will likely have many copies of it in my collection. Should all cards on the reserve list eventually spike as people realize that once all copies are gone they are gone and the cards aren't getting any younger then I will have simply made a profit. Even now, I do think there are cards on the reserve list that are criminally undervalued. I also believe that one day a card will spike on the reserve list that no one will predict. I am going to show the reserve list cards I bought this month although I have been buying reserved list cards for years.

[scribbaly]

Here, With You

fandom: criminal minds, Hotch x Rossi

an: inspired by these lovely headcanons from @ticklishraspberries! i desperately needed to write about these two old men. this is a very brief fic that i feel like i could bulk up a bit, but my motivation dwindled with some real life stuff and i didnt want this to collect dust, so enjoy! again, i welcome feedback as long as we're kind about it c:

It’s hard to think about every domino effect that leads to the specific moment you’re in right now. Even as a highly skilled FBI profiler, Aaron Hotchner couldn’t trace the exact moments that led to him being tangled in David Rossi’s bedsheets.

It happened slowly and then all at once. Of course when Rossi joined the team, they were fresh off the loss of Jason, and they weren’t the most welcoming bunch. But eventually they all fell into their rhythm. And the two men were drawn to each other, being the two oldest on the team. They would room together while away on a case and started to build their relationship from there. Hotch began to confide in Rossi when his marriage was starting to really have its troubles. Rossi would be as supportive as possible while quipping about his personal track record and how he might not be the best to offer advice. Regardless, he was always a shoulder for Hotch to lean on. 

After Haley passed, David felt like the only person Aaron could be around. He never pitied him, never was awkward, never tried to make Aaron feel any sort of way. David let Aaron be while also helping him to grieve. Kept him from drowning himself in his work. It was a delicate dance, but they knew each other so well that it didn’t feel like effort. 

And so lines began to blur, and drinks after work led to a first kiss in Rossi’s car, which brought them to right now.

Aaron breathed in the scent of David’s cologne that lingered in the sheets. The gentle rising of his chest as he inhaled caused David to stir. He peaked an eye open and squinted up at Aaron, “You couldn’t let me sleep in on our off day?” His voice gravelly. 

The other agent chuckled as Dave snuggled closer against his chest. “Sorry, tough habit to break.”

“Can I convince you to go back to bed?” David asked, angling his head so that he could place a kiss on Aaron’s jaw. He hummed, “I don’t know… It seems like a gorgeous day. I wouldn’t want to waste it.” He tried to hide his smile as David adjusted his position to hold on to Aaron tighter, nuzzling into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Aaron stilled as the hair of Dave’s goatee brushed against his skin. He could feel Rossi’s grin along with it.

The team never shied away from tickle fights. Any excuse to bring levity and a sense of togetherness was never passed up. But Hotch always stayed on the outskirts with Rossi, often adding commentary to the fray of laughter. It wasn’t until one drunk makeout session when Rossi found out just how ticklish Hotch was. The alcohol and kissing made his defenses slip, couple that with Rossi’s need to be handsy, and the older agent had Aaron giggling in no time. While sober, Hotch had a better grip of blocking out the sensations. Except for his neck.

And boy did Dave exploit the hell out of it.

Aaron let out a shaky breath, “Dave…” He warned, a laugh already bubbled at the back of his throat which removed all malice from his tone.

“Aaron…” David mocked, kissing and rubbing his face against the sensitive skin. 

Hotch’s mouth snapped shut, letting out little huffs of hair through his nose as he tried to quell the sensations. But when Rossi added his wiggling fingers to the mix, the dam broke loose. He let out a loud bark of a laugh that quickly spiraled into teetering giggles as he tried to squirm away, craning his neck back. Of course, Rossi followed. His grip around Hotch kept the agent firmly in place which allowed Dave to keep his face where he wanted it. 

“Five. More. Minutes.”  Each word accentuated with a raspberry that, when paired with the stubble, had Hotch descending into a fit of breathy cackles. 

“Ohohokay! OKAY! I yieheheheld!” 

Aaron breathed deeply as Rossi’s fingers stilled and he lifted his head, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Residual laughter still tumbled out of Hotch as he regained his composure. “I wihihill find your spots. Mahahark my words.” He pointed a threatening finger at David but the way his brown eyes sparkled with mirth had David chuckling. “GIve it your best shot.”

For the time being, Aaron simply laid in Rossi’s arms and silently thanked whatever domino effects brought him to this moment.

[ariadnelives]

Dokkaebi Fire - A Short Story

Author's Note: The bulk of this story takes place during the events of "Force Majeure," directly between chapters 8 and 9, during the crew's time in hiding in Xiagu. It is not intended to be read in sequence. If you'd like to catch up on the series so far, you can do so on ao3 or tumblr.

“Cookie?” Pilar called into the flat as she entered, not waiting to be let in. “It's me today. Ariadne's making final preparations for her surgery tomorrow, but she'll be by as soon as she's back on her feet.”

Aoibheann sat on the armchair in the living room, pointed at the television which appeared to be carrying a local news broadcast from one of Saturn's other moons. She had a blanket draped over her lap, and she watched the news broadcast idly, taking in none of it.

“Remember, starting tomorrow, Ariadne won't remember anything beyond the six-month point in our stay here, and we have to keep it that way, so, be careful what you say around her.” Pilar laughed without joy.

Aoibheann did not.

“You know,” Pilar tacked on, “I'm a complete liar. You could dime out the whole plan and I'm pretty sure me and Ari would absolutely leap for joy as long as it meant you were talking again.”

Aoibheann glanced over at Pilar wistfully, dark circles under her eyes, but said nothing. These little responses indicated their old friend could still hear them in there, that they could get through to her, even if she couldn't muster the strength to respond. She'd barely spoken since they lost the station. She was usually a tightly-wound powder keg, full of fire and passion, and she had to direct it towards her purpose or else she’d explode. Now, it was like all that fire inside her had gone out, and all that was left of her was an exhausted shell of a woman.

She seemed able to move around on her own, but rarely found the motivation to do so. She had grown somewhat thin and gaunt, as she only ate when fed, so every day, Pilar or Ariadne or one of her apprentices would stop by to see her and make sure she ate. Sasha had been spreading herself far too thin on Ariadne's project, but still found time to check in on her and monitor her physical health. Her apprentices had removed all sharp objects, belts, and shoelaces from the premises, but Pilar thought that was overkill. She had known Aoibheann long enough to know she would never physically harm herself. Still, it didn't make it easy to watch her torture herself like this.

Pilar sat next to her, and gently took her hand.

“I hate having to feed you this stuff, Cookie,” she said, opening up a small gray package she'd brought with her. “Replicated MREs. No wonder Baltimore and Beam went to a convenience store twice a week when they were in the army.”

Aoibheann looked with disdain at the lump of meat before her, served with a mush that could only be described as “prepared grain.” She hated eating it as much as Pilar hated serving it to her.

In their small hidden town of Xiagu, all of the food came out of the replicators. Xiagu had a surplus of energy, with its passive solar collection and years of nobody to use the stored power, so nobody was worried about the expenditure of creating food and water from reserves.

Back on the station, they had only managed to earmark power for replicator use two years previously. Like most spacecraft, all of the water fixtures were powered by replicators, generating as much water as needed from a stored bank of energy, which was in turn refilled by a device in the drains which converted waste-water into energy. The food replicator could make prepared meals, but crew members would only be allowed to use it if they could make up the energy cost. This happened pretty naturally, as everybody had to use the bathroom regularly and could credit this to their account, and had the handy benefit of encouraging people to clean up after themselves-- every time you emptied your trash into the energy-reclamation chute, you added replicator energy to your canteen account.

However, back home, most people didn't bother to use the replicators, because truly, Cookie's food was better fresh than anything they could produce, and she loved making it. Here in Xiagu, however, the replicators had nothing but military-grade “Meals Ready to Eat” and raw ingredients programmed into them. When the town was alive, there had been gardens to produce the vegetables, and people to tend them, harvest them, and cook them in the many small restaurants. Now, all that was left was replicators.

Cookie's star apprentice, Yellow, had been put in charge of the replicators while Cookie was indisposed, and had very few requests for anything other than the prepared MREs since they'd been there. Everyone on the crew was required to learn to cook, from Cookie, and nobody particularly felt up to trying to fill her shoes. Everyone had pretty much accepted meals of nondescript lumps of meat, vegetables, and starches on the firm belief that any day now, Cookie would be back on her feet, doing what she loved.

Yellow was the one in charge of food distribution, and had desperately been asking Ariadne to authorize them to reopen Cookie's kitchen, with her at the helm, until Cookie was well enough to resume her post. It's what Cookie would want, she insisted, but Ariadne was taking Cookie's condition unusually poorly, and had refused to allow the kitchen to operate without Cookie present. Yellow was frustrated, but understood. Nobody would feel right about having communal meals like before without Cookie.

Pilar carefully cut up the packaged meal and fed bites to Cookie, who halfheartedly complied with each bite. She offered her a cup of tea, which Cookie held for warmth but wouldn't drink without prompting.

“Look, Aoibheann...” Pilar said, “I know you're not well. I know this has been harder on you than anyone.”

Cookie met her gaze.

“But I don't...” Pilar began, and choked. “I don't think Ariadne will go through with this with you in this condition. She cares about you too much. You know what you mean to her. To me. She's not going to put herself at risk until she knows you're okay.”

Aoibheann looked downcast.

“She needs you,” Pilar whispered. “I need you. Please come back to us.”

****

Aoibheann's mind drifted back to when she’d met Ariadne and Pilar, thirteen years previously. She had been living on the streets for two years and had only passing contact with Pilar. She had been homeless since the Hanguk-Éire massacre, when Susan Weaver’s bombs had incinerated her family’s house and restaurant, left her and her mother destitute, and claimed her father’s life. Her mother had turned to drugs to cope with the loss, and ultimately found herself bleeding out in the gutter after an altercation with a pusher who she couldn’t pay for her latest fix.

She had distrusted the new girl at first. In her experience, another new person living under the overpass was another person who might get to the good scraps before her. She didn’t need any more competition. There was, however, a certain unspoken respect between her and the Aguilar girls. They were the only kids living on the streets of that particular block, and they had to look out for one another. They didn’t talk much, but they had struck up an arrangement. Pilar needed to go foraging to keep Sasha fed, and knowing that she would have to dig through trash bins and steal from loosely-guarded shops to make this happen, she felt it was too dangerous to bring her nine-year-old sister along with her.

So, she struck up an arrangement with Aoibheann: if she kept Sasha safe while she went out on runs, Pilar would try and steal a little extra food so Aoibheann could eat as well. Pilar and Sasha had been squatting in an abandoned house on a nearby side-street, and Aoibheann could crash there in exchange for keeping an eye on Sasha. It was shelter, and food, and it was a better deal than she was getting anywhere else. Under normal circumstances, Aoibheann would’ve developed a mighty crush on Pilar, but crushes were the sorts of things normal girls got to have. Aoibheann needed to focus on staying alive.

The new girl had been Racquel when they met. She had been raving about how the world was going to end, a secret conspiracy to reign atomic hellfire onto the bio-domes. It was the standard fare of the doomsaying lunatic, so nobody paid her much mind, but she’d named Ramos and Ramos specifically in her raving, and that caught Pilar’s attention. Nobody hated the Ramoses like Pilar, although Aoibheann didn’t yet know why.

So, Pilar and Racquel started going out on runs together. Suddenly, they were bringing back more than enough food, not only for the four of them, but they even got to share it with the others under the bridge. One day, they came home clean, wearing fresh clothes, and carrying a bundle of new clothes under their arm. They told her that Racquel’s name was Ariadne now, and that they would be needing her help a lot more often. They’d found some sort of mentor, who would “get them out of here,” but they’d need to spend hours, even days, with her at a time.

Aoibheann wasn’t a fool. She knew that if they succeeded in getting out of here, that she would be left behind. She couldn’t, however, risk being thrown out on the street. She’d watch Sasha and crash on the floor of this abandoned townhouse as long as they’d let her.

Sasha seemed like such a little kid then, although Aoibheann knew on a logical level that she was only three years older.

“If you could be anything in the world when you grow up,” Sasha had asked her one day, while the other girls had been away at their mysterious mentor’s for a few days, “what would you be?”

“I’m just trying to grow up,” Aoibheann said, “if I can make it that far, I’ll see what I can get.”

Sasha scrunched her nose. “You’re not playing the game right.”

“I’m being realistic,” Aoibheann said.

Sasha breezed past this. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up.”

Aoibheann considered pointing out that Sasha had a third-grade education and no money, but thought better of it, and instead just sighed. “Well, it’d be a crying shame if you starved to death before then,” she said. “Let’s see what your sister left us.”

Aoibheann looked at the handful of scraps Pilar had left on the table. Pilar had stolen them an entire rotisserie chicken, which Aoibheann had admonished her for-- the abandoned house did not have a working refrigerator, she pointed out, so she’d have to use the meats straightaway or they would quickly spoil and attract flies-- and several cans of diced white potatoes, which Pilar figured would keep Sasha’s stomach full, but Aoibheann pointed out had very little nutritional value. This was, of course, in addition to the six chocolate bars Pilar had, being thirteen years old, been sure to nab on her little excursion.

Aoibheann had nothing in the way of seasonings, except for a variety of salt and pepper packets she’d taken from a loosely-supervised outdoor seating area at a nearby restaurant, as well as, on one extremely lucky day, three sets of cheap silverware and a bottle of hot sauce.

She did, however, have access to a small metal trash can with a lid, water from a neighbor’s hose spigot-- Aoibheann felt bad about this, because water was so tightly regulated on Mars and the owner would surely be steeply charged for the waste, but this was a low priority compared to their survival-- and an old gas stove that the new girl had rigged up to illegally supply them with heat.

Aoibheann had cut the meat off the bones of the rotisserie chicken and plopped the bones into the cold water with all the fat and gristle, and opened up a few of the salt packets into the mixture. She put it on the stove and let it heat up to a boil, then turned down the gas and watched as the mixture turned a translucent yellow. She eventually fished out the bones with her knife, and dumped all the potatoes, and the meat from the chicken, into the broth.

After it had stewed for a while, Aoibheann took a taste. It was thin, watery, and somewhat bland, but it would do for the time being. Using the now-empty potato cans, she scooped out two servings of soup and handed one to Sasha.

“Now, we just have to keep it just hot enough,” Aoibheann said, “and it won’t go bad. We’ll be able to eat this until your sister gets back.”

Sasha took a taste. “It’s…” she had been taught, if she had nothing nice to say, to say nothing at all, so she didn’t finish her sentence. Aoibheann had spent enough time with her to know what she meant.

“It’s a tick bland like this,” Aoibheann shrugged, passing her the hot sauce. “Give it a dash of this, it’ll be a sight better.”

Sasha complied, tasted it, and her face made it clear that while it was in fact a sight better, it still wasn’t quite tasty.

“My mom used to make potatoes with a cheesy sauce,” Sasha said sadly. “They were really spicy. Pilar’s favorite food.”

“My dad was more of a cabbage man,” Aoibheann said. “My mom handled the meats, him the veggies. Hanguk-Éire cuisine is… all about things coming together in the pot.”

Sasha added a little more hot sauce to her soup.

“I wanted to be a cook,” Aoibheann said. “Like my folks, before, all this. My dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. And so on and so on, all the way back to our homelands.”

“You could still be a cook,” Sasha said, eyeing her soup. “...someday.”

“Well, we’ll have to get your sister to scrounge us up some quality ingredients, then, won’t we?” Aoibheann said.

The two of them finished their soup, and Aoibheann noted that it was getting late, and insisted that Sasha go to bed. Sasha refused without a story, and Aoibheann tossed back a “tough titties” which was met with an infuriatingly irresistible pout.

“FINE,” Aoibheann groaned, and improvised a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom,” Aoibheann began. This was how all her stories began, they all took place in this kingdom. “The kingdom, you see, had been through every horror you could put a kingdom through. It had been invaded. It had been burned. It had been taken over and torn in half and put back together again more times than you could count. Every evil overlord you could name had taken the place over, at one time or another. So the people in the kingdom, they were always sad, and they started to wonder, would they ever be free? And then, one day, they found out, there was another kingdom, just like them, halfway round the world, and they decided to join forces. But then, after a few decades of unity and prosperity, the entire world fell into darkness, and the people of the two kingdoms had to run. They ran far away, and found a new promised land in the desert, and built a home there.”

“Then, one day, in the new kingdom, there was a little girl who lived in a little house with her ma’ and her da’, and she loved her life. The dark creature from the old world, it caught up with them. It took her da’, and burned down her house, and she and her mother had to go out into the woods.”

Sasha looked scared. “The woods?”

“Aye,” Aoibheann said, “and her mother dear didn’t last long. There were these flares of Dokkaebi Fire, the goblin lights, and mother dear thought surely she could follow them to safety… Pretty soon, the little girl was all on her own.”

“I don’t like this story,” Sasha said, trying not to betray how frightened she was.

Aoibheann sighed. “Neither do I. But see, the story has a happy ending.”

“Happy?” Sasha asked.

“Happy enough,” Aoibheann replied, “for now. See, the little girl knew not to follow the goblin lights. She ran into the dark, and there she found… a brave, dashing adventurer. A gorgeous girl, noble and good, who’d been lost in the woods herself.”

Sasha’s eyes brightened at this. “Did she have a sword?”

“A little one, aye,” Aoibheann laughed. “And she was on a quest, to find a way out of the woods. But the problem was, she had to look after a sweet, wee little baby, and couldn’t leave it long enough to make any real progress. So the little girl, she’d faced all the darkness in the world. She could handle a wee little baby! She agreed to take care of the baby while the adventurer looked for a way to save herself and the little one.”

“Did she find a way out?”

“Someday she will,” Aoibheann said, “but all she found so far was… a sorceress.”

“This story has everything,” Sasha said.

“The sorceress was as beautiful as the adventurer, and sharp as a tack, but she was untrained. Powerful magic, but she didn’t know how to use it.” Aoibheann explained, “so, together, they managed to track down the Baba Yaga, a wise but crafty old witch, who could teach the sorceress and adventurer how to find the way.”

“And the little girl?” Sasha asked.

Aoibheann thought about this. “The little girl gets to spend time with the sorceress, and the adventurer, and that sweet wee little baby,” she said, “and she appreciates the time she has with them. Someday, they’ll find their way out, and she’ll still be in the woods, but she’ll always be glad to have met them. The end.”

Sasha crinkled her nose. “That’s a bad ending,” Sasha said bluntly. “The little girl should just leave the woods with them. Then find the creature that took her house, and kill it.”

“And how’s she gonna do that?” Aoibheann laughed.

“The adventurer and the sorceress will help her!” Sasha said. “Maybe the Baby Yaga can tell her some spells!”

“Baba Yaga,” Aoibheann corrected. “Okay, so say she does. Say she tells the adventurer and the sorceress everything that happened, and they go slay the evil creature. What happens next?”

Sasha thought about this. “Maybe they fight another creature,” she said. “An octopus?”

“Why are they fighting an octopus?” Aoibheann asked, still chuckling.

“It’s guarding a treasure,” Sasha said as though it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “You have heard a story before, right?”

“Fair enough,” Aoibheann said. “And then, say, they beat all the creatures. What then?”

“Happily ever after,” Sasha said triumphantly.

“Well, you’re a sight more deft at this than I am,” Aoibheann said. “Let’s get you to sleep, I’ll do better next time.”

Aoibheann swaddled Sasha in the dirty, tattered blanket that they’d found a few weeks earlier, sat out in the hallway, and began to cry.

In the present day, Aoibheann thought back to her sobbing in the hallway. At the time, she was convinced that Ariadne and Pilar would surely abandon her when they finished training with Blue. When they started building their first spacecraft in an alley under the bridge, she’d defended it from thieves and scrappers at knifepoint, even thinking that they would use it to leave her behind. When, against all odds, Ariadne had built a spaceworthy craft, she was stunned into silence when they invited her along.

��Don’t be dumb,” Pilar had said, extending a hand to her “of course we’re taking you with us. We started this crew to keep Sasha fed. How are we gonna do that without a cook?”

And so, Cookie had been born. As the goblin lights lit the way to ruin, Pilar’s hand pulled her onto the right path.

****

Now, Pilar’s hand was busy cutting up bites of nondescript meat and placing them into Aoibheann’s mouth.

“Do you remember… back in our street urchin days,” Pilar asked, “Me and Ariadne would come home from Blue’s, put Sasha to bed, and then you, me, and her would stay up late gossiping. We’d show you all the cool stuff Blue had taught us in our lessons, and you’d take the ingredients we’d stolen for you-- better ones, after you started giving me lists-- and you’d teach us how to cook like you.”

Aoibheann almost smiled, and Pilar saw it.

“Alright, you’re right,” Pilar said, cutting her another bite and placing it in her mouth. “Nobody can cook like you. Don’t let it go to your head. But you taught us to cook better than most people.”

Aoibheann accepted another bite wordlessly.

“You know, Ariadne used to use Blue’s tricks to fix up that abandoned house, Alan’s house, and I used to show you all the martial arts tricks, and you’d be rapt with attention,” Pilar said. “When me and Ari started dating, we had a friendly debate about it. See, I thought you had a crush on her, and she thought you had a crush on me. Joke’s on us, turns out you were more than capable of having both.”

Aoibheann came close to smiling again.

“Funny, that’s a fond memory now. Back then, it was the worst year of our life,” Pilar said. “Wonder what we’ll remember fondly from now, when we’re older.”

Aoibheann’s fractional smile faded away. She couldn’t imagine anything worth cherishing from this time. But then, she couldn’t back then, either.

“And we don’t have to talk about…” Pilar cut herself off. “I mean, the… what we’ve had together… The unspoken closeness between the three of us. Rare as it might be that we’ve acted on it, it’s still special to me. To us.The problem has never been that we don’t feel about you, the way you feel about us. If you wanted... what’s between the three of us... to be more, it’d be yours in a heartbeat.”

Aoibheann looked down at her lap.

“We’ve always loved you, Cookie,” she explained. “And don’t get twisted up on the definitions. Every sense of the word. Whatever you’re thinking I surely can’t mean… I mean it. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I just hate to think that… I mean… we’re going into the most dangerous time we’ve ever faced. If something happens, to me or to Ari… I just want to know you know what you mean to us. To me.”

Pilar gave her another bite, and Aoibheann didn’t fight her on it.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Pilar asked, and laughed. “Of course you do. Hard to forget something like that. Do you remember how angry you were that we wouldn’t let you cook us a grand feast?”

There was a spark in her eyes that demonstrated that she had not, in fact, entirely let this go.

“We stole the supplies for hamburgers from a local grocery store, and made Beam cook them,” Pilar said. “We actually almost got caught, pulled over for speeding on the way home. Ariadne told the cop her name was Ariadne Baltimore. Small town, local cops, everybody knew their parents, they figured they’d just miscounted the sisters, and let her go. Idiots.”

Pilar sighed.

“You weren’t allowed to cook because Ariadne needed you by her side,” she explained. “You were her maid of honor for a reason, Cookie. Our crew, our marriage, our family… where would we be without you? Would we even be us?”

Pilar offered Aoibheann another bite, and she didn’t take it. Pilar looked concerned. She hadn’t eaten nearly enough to be satisfied yet.

“What is it?” Pilar asked.

Aoibheann opened her mouth, thought hard, her eyes darting back and forth as though she was trying to make sense of something she couldn’t put words to.

“Aoibheann, are you… are you alright?” Pilar asked. “Should I get Sasha?”

Aoibheann shook her head vigorously. She had been lost in her depression for months, wondering if she was really better off waking up in the morning, but suddenly, the floodgates had come open, and she couldn’t wait one more second to let out what had been eating at her and destroying her soul ever since they’d lost the station.

Her voice was dry and raspy. She had not spoken more than two consecutive words in weeks, and her body vehemently protested the sudden change in this policy.

“Was it my fault?” She asked, thinking back to a conversation she'd had with their tormentor years ago. “Did I do this to us?”

****

“Excellent work today, everyone,” Cookie’s voice boomed through the kitchen. “The festivities went off without a hitch. This is an anniversary our captain won’t soon forget.”

“Thank you, Chef,” her crew echoed back.

“Dismissed,” she said to the assembled kitchen staff, and then quietly approached one of the greener pirates who’d recently started the galley rotation that was mandatory for the whole crew. “Libby, a word?”

Cookie ushered Libby into a small room at the back, which she used for prep when she was working on more intimate, personal projects. This was the room where she prepared birthday meals for Spacebreather, Ariadne, and Sasha. This was the table on which she’d painstakingly crafted Ariadne and Pilar’s wedding cake. The small walk-in freezer was the one where she’d had a brief, clumsy tryst with Blue on a rare visit to the station, after Cookie had enraged her by challenging her to a contest to see who could make a better mole negro oaxaqueño sauce, and then winning it.

Libby had been invited into the inner sanctum, and the look on Cookie’s face made it absolutely clear that it was not an honor.She was in deep trouble. Worse still, there was a salt shaker on the table in front of her.

“Do you think this is funny, lass?” Cookie asked. “Is this a fun game to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chef,” Libby said, actually looking somewhat convincing.

“The cap of the salt shaker was unscrewed. One shake, and dinner would’ve been ruined.” Cookie said. “It was your responsibility to set the table in the captain’s quarters.”

Libby got immediately defensive. “Anybody could’ve done that,” she said, “I didn’t do it, it’s totally unfair that you--”

“Anybody could’ve,” Cookie said. “But I gave you a responsibility. You were responsible for the Captain’s table. You signed off on a table with an unscrewed salt shaker on it. That makes you responsible for the salt shaker, whether you placed it there or not.”

“How is that fair?” Libby replied indignantly.

“Lass, why do you think Ariadne requires all crew to complete a rotation in my kitchen before they’re cleared for field service?” Cookie asked.

“She needs someone to cook for her?” Libby asked derisively.

Cookie sneered. She did not care for Libby, and never had. The girl seemed to attract drama. How, she wondered, could someone with so few friends be so perpetually in the middle of a falling out with a group of them? “And why do you think my standards are so meticulous?” Cookie asked.

Libby declined to answer, because she knew her honest answer would get her in trouble, but her face betrayed what she wanted to say: “Because you’re a huge bitch?”

Cookie answered her own rhetorical questions. “The skills you need to be successful in here, will be invaluable to you out there. You didn’t go over your loadout with a fine-toothed comb. You didn’t take the responsibilities you were trusted with seriously. You allowed your crewmates to operate with faulty equipment, that, had I not intervened, would’ve caused the mission objective to fail.”

“To be clear,” Libby said, “the ‘mission’ was serving them dinner.”

“IN HERE IT’S DINNER,” Cookie bellowed, her eyes full of all the rage and fire that she kept tamped down in her heart every second of every day, and slammed her fists on the table, knocking down the salt shaker. The chrome lid clattered off, and salt spilled onto the teak countertop. Cookie wordlessly grabbed a pinch of it and tossed it over her left shoulder. “In here, you fail in your duties and it means dinner isn’t very good that night. Out there, you fail in your duties and your sisters in arms die. That’s why Ariadne makes you work with me before you’re allowed to work for her. You can’t be trusted to handle the stakes out there if your team, and your commanding officer, can’t even trust you to do your job correctly when the stakes are only whether tonight’s chicken will be a little dry. Is that crystal clear?”

Libby looked as though she was about to protest, or accuse Cookie of being melodramatic, but Cookie cut her off. “Think very carefully about what you say next,” she said, “and if you’re lost as to what answer I’m looking for...” She pointed at the band that she kept tied around her head, so that even if one of her brilliant red hairs slipped out of its tight bun, it would still not fall into her face. It was white, and said, in bold black text, “YES CHEF.”

Libby grumbled. “Yes, chef,” she said. “next time, I’ll check the table settings more carefully.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cookie said. “But I think it’s important that you know… I know you put the shaker on the table.”

“What?!” Libby snapped.

“If the Captain, or her first mate, were to be poisoned, I would need to be able to verify who’d done the deed.” Cookie said. “Every step of my meal preparation is accounted for. There is a record of every action taken in this kitchen, cupboard-to-table. If something goes wrong with a meal, within seconds I will be able to identify the point of failure and exactly who was responsible for preventing it. Of course, it helps to have a private video feed into the captain’s quarters.”

Cookie tossed her communications device onto the table, and hit play. It projected a small, but surprisingly clear, hologram of Libby setting the table, smirking as though struck with an idea, and unscrewing the cap of the salt shaker.

“You have… a security camera… in their quarters?!” Libby asked.

“I’m the only person in the system they trust with it,” Cookie said. “I trust them with my life, and they trust me with theirs. Now, I gave you a chance to confess to your little prank, and you decided to lie, to pass the buck onto someone else. I’m afraid I can’t let that slide. I’ll have to fail you for this rotation. Come back at the start of the next one and you can reapply.”

“What?!” Libby snapped again. “I’m two days away from finishing! I have to start my galley rotation over again just because you caught me playing a harmless prank on your little pervy peep-show?”

“Call it pervy if you like,” Cookie said dismissively. “The nature of my relationship with the captain and her first mate is enthusiastically sanctioned and is, frankly, none of your concern. The behavior you showed in here, would’ve only spoiled Captain Ariadne’s dinner. If you showed the same level of carelessness and irreverence out there, it might’ve gotten someone killed. ‘Harmless’ indeed. You’re not responsible enough for field work until you can prove you can handle kitchen duty.”

“This is bullshit,” Libby said, gathering up her things to storm out of the room. “Like it even matters whether that bitch’s little dinner is ruined.”

Cookie slammed her fists on the counter again.

“Captain Ariadne is the greatest woman who ever lived,” Cookie growled, “and if I hear you speak of her like that in my presence again, you’ll lose a hell of a lot more than your galley rotation.”

Libby moved to storm out, but Cookie rushed the door and held it shut.

“Now, you listen to me, you little twerp,” Cookie said, jabbing a finger into Libby’s chest, shaking with anger. “That woman pulled me out of the gutter-- pulled all of us out of the gutter. There is nothing more important than the work she does, and we are the beating heart that allows her to do it. So if you want to be a part of this crew, you’ll show her some goddamned respect and start taking your work fucking seriously.”

Libby looked furious.

“What do I want to hear?” Cookie asked pointedly.

Pilar was astonished. “You think… because you were hard on the Nameless in her galley rotation… that she went totally off the rails, tried to kill us, and drove us out of our home?”

“Yes, chef,” Libby grumbled after a beat, and Cookie allowed her to pass.

****

“She tried to say we were like a cult,” Cookie said weakly. “That we were just minions blindly following Ariadne’s orders. That we turned against anybody who didn’t fall in line.”

“Is any of that true?” Pilar asked rhetorically. “Does the crew actually act like that?”

Cookie let the tears come. “I do,” she said. “What if she… how do I know she isn’t holding my devotion, my zeal, against the entire crew?”

“You… blindly follow Ariadne’s orders?” Pilar asked, entirely rhetorically. “That’s a surprise, I thought you really believed in our mission.”

Cookie was taken aback. “I do!’

Pilar smiled. “There’s some of that fire,” she said. “I’ve missed it. Aoibheann… when is the last time Ariadne actually gave you an order?”

Cookie had to think about this, but came up short.

“Exactly,” Pilar said. “This is what’s been eating you, all this time?”

Aoibheann looked afraid to reply, so she just asked what she’d wanted to ask, ever since they were driven out of their home.

“Do you forgive me?” She asked. “Does she… does she forgive me?”

Pilar looked Aoibheann square in the eyes. “Cookie, you’ve never needed our forgiveness. An insane terrorist attacked our home. There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent that.”

This was not what Aoibheann wanted to hear.

Pilar sighed. “Of course we forgive you, Aoibheann,” she said in a voice that sounded entirely earnest, but using words that betrayed how sarcastic she was being: “for not allowing someone who turned out to be a sexual predator and an actual serial killer tamper with our food and ruin our anniversary. We forgive you for being the most devoted friend we’ve ever had. Because someone else mistreated us, it must’ve been wrong that you treated us right. We will always forgive you for loving us, Aoibheann. You will never lose our forgiveness for that.”

Aoibheann was struck speechless again.

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Pilar said affectionately, “I just got you to talk again! I’ve missed your voice.”

“I appreciate your taking care of me,” Cookie admitted, “while I’ve been… not myself.”

Pilar gently put her hand on Aoibheann’s, and gave it a squeeze, and then told her the most reassuring truth she had.

“The Nameless is a user,” she said. “She wants a bunch of people who act like puppets and put her well-being first. Ariadne spends every second of every day encouraging her crew to think and act for themselves, and to put each other’s well-being above all else. That’s why she thinks Ariadne’s a tyrant. Not because you defended her honor after a sociopath tried to ruin her anniversary and then called her a bitch.”

Aoibheann felt as though she’d just received absolution for something that had been dragging her through the muck for months. How could she not believe Pilar, of all people? She began to cry openly.

“Hey, hey,” Pilar said, “it’s okay! I got you.”

“I’ve let the crew down,” she said, “had them eating this flavorless mush for however many months. I’ll be back at a stove first thing in the morning, don’t you worry--”

Pilar laughed. “Aoibheann… Cookie, I’m glad you’re back but… don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Let your apprentices handle it for a bit. Besides, you haven’t walked by yourself in a pretty long time. It’ll take a bit before you’re seaworthy again, let alone fit to run a kitchen.”

Aoibheann looked downcast. “Well, I’ve spent enough time sitting around like a lump being no good to anybody,” she said indignantly.

“You’re plenty good to us,” Pilar said flatly, “just by being here. We love you, Cookie. You don’t need to… justify your existence by being a devoted servant.”

Aoibheann was uncomfortable with this sentiment, and it showed on her face. This was, after all, how she showed her affection for Ariadne and Pilar. How could she show them her love and devotion without being able to cook for them?

“I don’t know how to…” Cookie began. “Please… Please, just… tell me what to do.”

Pilar sighed. She knew Cookie was far too devoted to her duties to go completely without orders. “She and I will be back in a few hours, for dinner. Let her hear your voice. Tell her you love her, and wish her luck on her procedure. If you have the strength, give her a hug. And, most importantly, just… please, be okay. Be kind to yourself and take all the time you need to get back on your feet. We’ve only got the one Cookie, so take care of her for us, okay?”

Cookie smiled, and squeezed Pilar’s hand back with what little strength she could muster.

Pilar picked up the now-empty tray that the MRE had been on. “Now that you’re back, do I have your permission to start up the kitchens? Let your apprentices do some real cooking?”

Cookie nodded her head.

“Then I guess this is truly an event worth of celebration: you’ve had your last Meal-Ready-To-Eat,” Pilar laughed. “I’ll see you tonight, Cookie. I want to put some meat back on your bones, so I’ll be cooking, and I expect you to be looking over my shoulder and barking orders at me the whole time.”

Cookie looked at her and smiled, and Pilar’s heart melted. It had been a long time since anyone had seen that.

****

Cookie’s apprentices stood in a straight line at the back of the Hotpot Spot, an abandoned restaurant that Sweettalk had identified as her childhood favorite. Cookie, wearing the chef’s coat she’d fled the station in, freshly laundered, and her trademark “YES CHEF” headband, limped into the restaurant, supported by a cane that Sweettalk had fished out of her childhood home, and said had belonged to her grandfather.

Cookie was still not back to full strength, but her apprentices could see the fire they’d come to fear and love had returned to her eyes.

“As you may have noticed,” Cookie announced, the natural loudness of her voice undiminished by her time indisposed, “I have been… unwell, of late. As such, I am unable to resume my duties at this time.”

Her staff turned to her chief apprentice, Yellow, for guidance. Yellow remained silent, so the rest of them did as well.

“It’s alright, kids,” she said, stamping the cane on the ground loudly. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not my old self yet. It’s fine. I wouldn’t feel right resuming my post here anyhow. This isn’t my kitchen. I’ve called you all here because you are the apprentices most equipped to run a kitchen of your own.”

Yellow nodded in assent.

“As such, I have a new directive for each of you, until such time as we’ve retrieved my kitchen, and I’m back to my usual vim and vigor, each of you is to select one of the defunct restaurants in this town, take your pick of the remaining staff and any available volunteers, and you will run your kitchens to the standard I have taught you.”

Cookie sighed.

“I know what you all think,” she said. “I know what you’ve said to me, in the past. You think your best is only a pale imitation of my cooking. But I need you all to know that… isn’t true.”

“Chef?” Yellow asked.

“I was the fourth person on this crew, lass,” Cookie said. “The first person to join, after the founding members. At the beginning, we had one mission: Keep Sasha Fed. There is nothing I value more highly than that mission. I live for it, and if I’m blessed with the chance, I will happily die for it. We may have expanded the definition of ‘Sasha’ to include everyone we love, but this mission is and will always be my life’s labor. Food doesn’t just sustain us. It is love, in physical form. The Captain and the First Mate have been very gracious to me, in the time we’ve known each other, by allowing me to show them my love and devotion in the way I’m able to offer. Over the last nine months, they have shown me the devotion was not one-sided, and given me the love I was able to accept. So your mission is, as it always has been: get in the kitchen, and show your love to the crew. Fill their bowls with it, in the way only you can, with or without me. And when your cup is empty…”

Cookie choked up a bit, and did a halfway decent job masking it.

“...When your cup is empty, allow those who love you to fill it back up, until you’re ready to pour from it again.”

After a long, uncomfortable beat, her crew shouted back “Yes, Chef!”

“I have been derelict in my duties,” Cookie said. “I let you go this many months without loving one another properly, because you wouldn’t do it without me.”

“Chef, permission to speak freely?” One of her younger apprentices, a quiet young boy who specialized in pastries, piped up.

“Granted,” Cookie said.

“You never ordered us not to run the kitchens without you. In fact, before…” He paused carefully, then opted to leave it unsaid, “before, you always taught us how to take the lead for the rest of the crew, when you had to cook for the Captain’s table. We wouldn’t run the kitchens without your say-so because…”

“It’s okay, lad, no need to be scared of the likes of me,” she reassured him.

“We were ordered not to,” he told her. “The Captain was very clear: ‘There’s no crew without Cookie.’”

Cookie leaned on her cane and looked a bit sad.

“She couldn’t handle it, Chef,” Yellow explained. “Knowing somebody else was doing your work, while you were suffering the way you were.”

Now Cookie could feel her heart melt. “She said that, did she?”

The young baker boy winced. “She said that there’s nothing more important than the work you do, and that everything the crew does, is just so you can do it,” he said. “She said… well, she said she was derelict in her duty to you, and that she couldn’t replace you until she’d made it right. Until you’d forgiven her for letting you down.”

Cookie laughed. “We’ve known each other a long time, indeed,” she said. “The captain is a sentimental one, I’m afraid. She blames herself for all this. For my condition. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s still more Catholic than she’d like to admit.”

Everyone’s eyes flared at this. Of course none of them would tell her she’d said that, as they all valued keeping their heads attached to their necks too much. Cookie was one of the only people in the system who could get away with saying something like that in front of Ariadne.

“She could never let me down if she tried,” Cookie said, “and even if she did, I will always forgive her. That you can repeat to her. Now, that’s enough prattling on from an old fool. You all have restaurants to open. To work!”

“Yes, Chef!” Her apprentices all shouted, and broke formation to claim their restaurants.

“And remember,” she shouted after them. “If you talk to the Captain, this was her idea!”

She had, in fact, passed her forgiveness along to Ariadne the previous day, before her surgery, and assured her that she didn’t need forgiveness, the same way Pilar had done to her. After her procedure, Ariadne wouldn’t remember Cookie giving her consent to reopen the kitchens, but she was delighted that when she came out of it, she seemingly remembered, on some level, that she had been absolved of all wrongdoing.

She was relieved when, during the fight Alicia staged with her, Ariadne had suggested they put her apprentices to work in the kitchens. Despite being set back several months, she was done punishing herself, and letting everyone else punish themselves with her. It was a do-over many were not fortunate enough to get, and after all she’d lost, Aoibheann was not one to turn her nose up at a second chance.

****

Months later, when all this was over and Sasha’s medicine and a lot of good eating had restored her muscles into mostly proper working order-- she still felt uneasy at times, and preferred to keep the cane on hand, just in case-- they were repatriated to their home, the Nameless had been defeated, and the station had erupted into a celebratory frenzy. Yellow and the kitchen staff had burned the candle at both ends to supply enough party snacks to keep anyone from drowning in all the wine. Two former crew members, Baltimore and Beam, had returned to the station to join in the celebrations. Sweettalk and Sasha had, believing themselves slick, pulled Ghostrunner and her new girlfriend Vigil back to their quarters. Alicia had brought Blue back to the station and, in the haze of wine, loudly announced her intention to start a relationship with her, before disappearing back to her own quarters. Cookie and Blue had, despite their past rivalry, a deep, abiding respect for one another, and Blue was one of the few people who was authorized to do as she pleased in the kitchen. Cookie knew firsthand that after Blue’s enthusiastic and athletic lovemaking, she would likely need something to eat, and a bit more wine, so she’d set a bottle of red and a bowl of fresh mozzarella in conspicuous locations in the hopes that she would find them. Cookie was, uncharacteristically, not in the kitchen that night.

If she had learned anything from the past year, it was that she had to sometimes set the weight of the world down, and allow the people she loved to take care of her as much as she took care of them. So, as had become tradition, once per month, she would retire to the Captain’s quarters instead of her own, and allow her friends to show them how much they loved her. Pilar spent the day marinating meats, just the way Cookie had taught her, and Ariadne had built a heating element into her personal dining table so that Pilar could cook them some of Cookie’s favorite foods.

They would then retire to the bedroom for a night of passion-- Ariadne always had some new device she’d built and wanted to show off. Being married to Spacebreather, she was in the unfortunate position of being a bit of a pillow princess, but not on pillow principle, and so never had anyone else to use it on, and Cookie was the only person other than Ariadne who Spacebreather was willing to touch. They would spend this time laughing, and experimenting, and making sure not an inch of her, or the captain, went unkissed, and then they would fall asleep in each other’s arms, all the while gossiping and reminiscing the way they had back on Mars.

Sometimes, on these nights, Cookie would think back to what Spacebreather said to her, during her episode, about how if she ever wanted something more between them, she could have it.

The thing was, she didn’t want something more. She treasured these nights they had together, but as far as she was concerned, nothing had changed about what they were to her. They were her best friends, and they were her calling in life. She would, to the best of her ability, serve their mission with almost religious zeal. Even unto her death, she would prioritize keeping her loved ones happy and healthy. She had already loved them, more, she believed, than she could ever love anyone else, even when they had started an exclusive relationship with one another, and she was just a heartbroken teenager pining after them both. How could she want something more, when she couldn’t even imagine something better than what she already had?

The first time the three of them had ever fallen into bed together, years after Ariadne and Pilar had made it clear they were soulmates, they had been a ball of teenage hormones, propelled by a raunchy party game that had gotten a bit out of hand. Aoibheann had awoken mortified and furious at herself for daring to succumb to her own desires like this. Her whole life, whenever she’d allowed herself to love something, it was taken away, and that only when she accepted that something was beyond her grasp, would she stand a chance of being lucky enough to attain it. She was sure that by admitting to her wants, and acting on them, she had ruined everything. Except, Ariadne and Pilar noticed her embarrassment and simply chose to behave as though nothing had changed. It had happened only occasionally in the past, and each time, Ariadne and Pilar would wait for Cookie to bring it up. Otherwise, it was completely unspoken.

The one crucial difference was, now, Aoibheann “Cookie” Gyeong, once the saddest girl on Mars, had finally accepted that it was okay to want, and to act on those wants, that this was not following the goblin lights to her death as her mother had. She, who loved her life so much that she shut down for the better part of a year when she feared it had changed irreparably, spent most of her time refusing to acknowledge what she loved about it. She did her job, showed her love, and asked for nothing in return except for the ability to keep doing it.

“You know,” Ariadne said, running her fingers through Aoibheann’s long, smooth, bright red hair, as a sleeping Pilar cradled them both in her arms, “we don’t do any of this for you. We do it because we like doing it. It’s fun for us.”

Cookie laughed. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she quipped.

Ariadne smiled, and told her something she’d waited years to be sure Cookie would be ready to hear. “Thank you,” she said, “for being my friend. For loving me. For making what we do worth it.”

Aoibheann shot a smile right back. “I could say the same to you.”

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

Foster Island Summer Camp 2024

Artificial, Pokémon a brief history and their creation

i’d like to thank Ellisa and the staff at Foster Island for the opportunity to speak again at this camp and hopefully give those who chose to attend my class, a brief summary of the history and creation of artificially created Pokémon. It’s nice to see some return faces from last year. I hope everyone’s been doing well.

Now artificially created Pokémon exist, roughly in three categories, from most understood to least understood. Scientifically engineered, incidentally created, and historically evident.

To begin with scientifically engineered artificial Pokémon are the most understood of the four categories. As many of the Pokémon in this category were created under lab conditions extensive records exist of their creation, how to create more and how they were created to begin with. The Porygon species is perhaps the most famous of this category. Being an artificial intelligence created by Slyph.Co inhabiting hard light bodies. Castform creation by the collective work of the meteorological research facilities in Hoenn is also another case of a well documented, artificial Pokémon being created, and having the means to create more. Polygon creation by Gnome.Co and a number of other artificially created Pokémon around the world in various regions all fit in this category. Arguably, the most defining trait of this category is that we, as modern humans have the ability to create more of them, without the use of breeding. An individual would simply require the necessary components to assemble one from scratch to create another. For example, the bulk of sold Porygons are lab created, and not bred.

The second most understood category of artificially created Pokémon are incidentally created ones. Generally the artificial Pokémon in this category are created by accident. Often times a convergence of many factors occurs usually from a lack of human diligence where materials were allowed to interact in unprecedented ways resulting in the spontaneous generation of life. Now the materials involved in the generation of life vary greatly from Pokémon to Pokémon and are subject to great debate, as unlike the first category the second category often happens outside of settings, where scientist are able to observe the initial incident where life is generated from. Of course this hasn’t stopped hypothesis from being formed. For example, Grimmers are believed to have been originally bacteria colonies mutagenic altered by a combination of human waste materials, and radioactive elements mixing together in sewers. So, arguably, the most defining trait of the second category of artificially created, Pokémon is that we are reasonably assured that they were created accidentally through human factors, but we are unable to replicate their initial creation. Pokemon such as kantonian Voltorb and Trubbish are also two well-known artificially created Pokémon that fall under the category.

The third most understood category of artificially created Pokémon are one in which there is historical evidence surrounding their creation. Generally, these are records stories, or oral traditions in which describe a person /place /group or profession, was described where said Pokémon were created, but the techniques used in their creation have been functionally lost. For example we have recorded from around the world of Baltoy’s creation , generally oral traditions describe potters of great skill forming their bodies of clay and preforming an undisclosed action involved in their making to bring them to life. Bronzor also possess similar a historical presence in many regions. The most defining aspect of the third category is that we are responsible sure that they were of human origin but all currently experiencing examples are the byproduct of natural or selective breeding.

manmade pokemon are ever growing presents in the modern day and continued developments in their creation made by both private and governmental bodies has me wondering what will see next.

[mesetacadre]

There are many organizations that have similar missions, and similar priorities. Indeed, there are libraries, archives, labs, museums, and other institutions tasked with preservation of this kind. Many of those are well-funded, by governments, individuals, or corporations. But they have one massive blind spot: the legal system.

Herein lies the unique role of shadow libraries, and the reason Anna’s Archive exists. We can do things that other institutions are not allowed to do. Now, it’s not (often) that we can archive materials that are illegal to preserve elsewhere. No, it’s legal in many places to build an archive with any books, papers, magazines, and so on.

But what legal archives often lack is redundancy and longevity. There exist books of which only one copy exists in some physical library somewhere. There exist metadata records guarded by a single corporation. There exist newspapers only preserved on microfilm in a single archive. Libraries can get funding cuts, corporations can go bankrupt, archives can be bombed and burned to the ground. This is not hypothetical — this happens all the time.

The thing we can uniquely do at Anna’s Archive is store many copies of works, at scale. We can collect papers, books, magazines, and more, and distribute them in bulk. We currently do this through torrents, but the exact technologies don’t matter and will change over time. The important part is getting many copies distributed across the world. [...]

We are on the eve of a revolution in preservation, but “the lost cannot be recovered.” We have a critical window of about 5-10 years during which it’s still fairly expensive to operate a shadow library and create many mirrors around the world, and during which access has not been completely shut down yet.

If we can bridge this window, then we’ll indeed have preserved humanity’s knowledge and culture in perpetuity. We should not let this time go to waste. We should not let this critical window close on us.

[tastyliltina]

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jake paused mid-shove. He blinked at the human standing the opposite side of the room, jaws agape while the Turkey in his hands dripped. His ears flicked. Chris narrowed her eyes, arms crossed.

“Put. My turkey. Down.”

While speaking wasn’t in the cards with his jaws taped, the redhead did manage to raise a brow. Just what did she intend to do to stop him? His sweater was already taught from the rest of the thanksgiving spread, did she think he’d tap out at the best part? He snorted and returned his focus on stuffing the beautifully baked bird into his jaws. It was heavy, sure, but he’d handled worse.

A few gulps later, and the warm, filling weight added to the bulk he’d collected. He rested a hand on his stomach. A quiet belch parted his lips as his gaze flickered to a very displeased glare.

“No~.” He grinned for good measure, earning a sneer from Chris.

A/N:

Just a quickie featuring @sindumpster’s Jake and my Chris bickering as always, and the not-so-fun tradition Chris has been roped into 😂 Reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated!!!

“Jake, that…ugh,” brown eyes rolled as Chris glanced around the kitchen.

He’d left no crumbs in the carnage of dishes, though the pantry remained untouched. He wasn’t cruel. Smirking, the dragon settled into the dining room chair he’d claimed. It whined beneath his weight. He yawned, stretched, and settled. Chris was busy tutting over every little mess he’d made.

“…and the dishes, I…” an exasperated Chris turned to face him. “How did you even get in?!”

Jake pointed to the door. “Ya’ left it unlocked. Smelled all that good food, figured ya’ just wanted to make my visit even better~.” Snickering, he let his head relax back. “‘Sides, ain’t like ya’ can’ts make another dinner…”

“But I don’t want to make two dinners!” Chris groaned. “I was going to enjoy just the one…” she rubbed her face. “And I was supposed to host this year…”

Shrugging, Jake focused on his eagerly churning middle. Now that he’d settled, he did feel…full. Not to the point he was sick, but his stomach felt tight. His nose wrinkled. Rubs would be nice… His eyes shifted to Chris. In her current, pacing state, there’d be no way she’d volunteer. Hm. Then again, she didn’t have to rub on the outside per se…

“Yanno,” idly, he used his pinkie claw to pick at his teeth, “ya’ could’a made a bigger bird…”

Chris whipped to face him. Her eyes were daggers that bounced off his cool smile. There it was. He waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m jus’ sayin’. Maybe if ya’ made a bigger bird, wouldn’ have to eat the whole thing…” he pushed himself into a standing position. “But thinks I’m gonna takes a nap, sleep this off…”

“Ooooh no,” Chris stalked forwards, hands planted firmly on her hips. “You-“ she pointed to him, jabbing a finger into his chest, “are going to help me clean. I need help with all the dishes you so graciously cleaned out so I can-“

Jake wasted no time. He snatched her hand, earning a squeak from Chris. Her eyes met his. They widened, as did his smirk.

“Nah... Tell ya’ what though, I gots other ways of gettin’ ya’ outta yer host duties~.” He stepped forwards, free hand snatching hers and pulling her towards him. He licked his lips with a chuckle, “And besides, cant’s get much rubs outta ya if yer busy cookin’…”

~~

Chris yanked on her hand, lips curling into a sneer. Of course the dragon wasn’t satisfied-typical. She braced her feet on the tile, trying to wrench herself free to no avail. Jake remained in place, an immovable obstacle as she tried to free herself.

“Yannow,” Jake stepped forward. “Holidays is meant to be spent gettin’ close, so I think I’m doin’ ya’ a favor~.”

Chris matched his movement. If Jake could keep her occupied by being…himself, she wouldn’t notice him trying to back her into a corner. Again, typical. Her gaze shifted to the side. Maybe…

Before she could move, the weight in front of her shifted. Suddenly, she was moving forwards. Quickly. She smacked into Jake’s taut middle with a grunt. A rush of heat came next, followed by the tell-tale pop of jaws closing over her head. Her legs bent, trying to get herself out, but Jake’s hands loosened enough to grip her wrists and now trapped her in place.

The slimy sensation of Jake’s tongue scooting her forwards made her nose wrinkle. Already, she could hear the rumble of a purr around her, and her mind painted the stupid smug expression on Jake’s face. She grumbled. Still, the sensation was short lived, as flesh and muscle enclosed around her and her descent began.

Rings of muscle rigged the human’s head, the peristalsis pushing her further and further into the dragon’s gullet. Her senses were overwhelmed with the sounds of a body at work. Lungs, heart, organs of all kinds roaring and thumping and gurgling in a steady, almost sneering, symphony. It was as though Jake’s body was celebrating one more addition to the bulk he’d already eaten.

Chris winced as a particular muscle made itself known. The lower esophageal sphincter, akin the head of a t-shirt that one outgrew, stretched itself over her head as she slid into Jake’s stomach. Once her arms were free from the neverending motion, she used them to ease herself in with practiced precision. As she did so, Chris felt a familiar tension beneath her hands. Jake's second stomach was hard at work…and it felt full.

“Ugh…I hate you!” She growled with all the venom she could muster. At least, as much as one could muster when becoming the final dessert to a very large meal. She didn’t miss the thump of a pat on her side as Jake neared her calves. The sharp distinction from inside to outside was boggling, but Chris had long grown accustomed to it.

~~

Jake’s purrs ramped up as he eased the last of Chris’ feet into his mouth, swallowing them with a final, thick gulp. A hand rested on his middle. He could feel her readjusting; little bumps passed under his palm as he patted the stretched flesh with a low belch. It was then he felt, and heard, the low rumble. Smug melted to a frown. Right.

“Well, if ya’ start rubbin’, maybe I’ll letcha out in time to make more~,” he crooned. Another snarl from his stomach faded his grin. Ugh… “‘M gonna…go lay downs.”

“Jake-!“

“I don’t feel rubbin’~.” He snickered, then began his slow waddle to the living room. Chris’ couch groaned beneath him as he sat, stomach spilled far into his lap and still angry churning. Chris’ occasional shifting didn’t do him any good, either. He grimaced. Maybe he should have grabbed one of the bubbly drinks Chris always gave him…he sure as hell wasn’t getting it now. Frowning, the redhead adjusted himself and stretched onto his back.

He did, after a few minutes, feel rubs begin. Small pressures that scratched itches, relieved tensions he didn’t know he had. His muscles went slack as his brain gave into the melting sensation. A yawn parted his lips, and his eyes closed. His hand began to slow its rubbing over the crest of his middle. A part of him understood why humans were so adamant on not being alone in the cold months…he couldn’t wait for next year~.

[hireskipbinadelaide-blog]

What Factors Influence the Cost of Rubbish Removal Services?

Neat and clean surroundings are what everyone loves to see, but a sad fact here is that no one wants to invest time and money in cleanliness and timely rubbish removal. They are ready to seek services from a waste management company and pay their fees. The question is how much it costs to remove this rubbish. Let us find the answer to this question in this blog post.

What Is The Cost Of Rubbish Removal Services?

The cost of seeking these services will depend on several factors, as different options are available in Australia. These options will influence the expenditure, and the first of them is the private collector.

Private Collectors

These are rubbish removal companies owned and run by rubbish removal experts. They offer rubbish waste removal services, and the median price is between $150 and $200. The cost will get influenced by the type of rubbish and the quantity, of course.

Skip Bins

In terms of rubbish removal, this is considered a relatively expensive option because you hire a skip bin, and once it is full, the rubbish removal company will pick it up. The average cost of a two cubic metre skip bin is around $250 to $300.

Diy Dumping

This is the cheapest but labour-intensive one as you must take your garbage to the nearest dumping yard. In these dumping yards, the dumping cost is determined by several factors. For dry materials, the cost is between $350 and $400, and for garden materials, the exact price is around $250.

Council Pick-Up

This is the free-of-cost service offered by the local municipality or the council body. These people collect garbage once a week, and as mentioned above, it is entirely free of cost. However, you must book the pick-up in advance and remember that the demand is always very high. They can take only three types of garbage like mattresses, old furniture and white goods. It will be your responsibility to park the garbage box on the street before the pick-up.

What Factors Influence The Cost Of Rubbish Removal Services?

Of course, the type of garbage you want to dump is the most significant factor, followed by others. Firstly, the amount of waste will influence the cost of any abovementioned services. Then, the location from where the waste material has to be picked will be a significant factor in determining the cost of rubbish removal services. The cost of these services also varies from company to company, and often rubbish removal experts consider the location factor.

[macravishedbymactavish]

Dishes Vs. Laundry Headcanons (TF141 + Alex)

Based off the theory that every couple has someone who prefers doing laundry while the other prefers dishes. NOT an x reader HC list

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Amazing at fitting all the dishes into the dishwasher.

Soap // Dishes

Not to mention it takes care of all the work for his dishwasher safe items (95% of his kitchen)

The other 5% (all his cutlery - somehow he ended up with all handwash only) is washed and drying in under 10 minutes.

Side note: he runs out of forks the quickest and can't quite figure out why.

Then it's waiting for the dishwasher to be done, the dishes to be dried and quickly putting them away.

Gets so, so sick of the guys making jokes about his codename in regards to this.

The first time was funny, the 10th time gets you a soaked shirt and Scottish swear words.

Doesn't hate laundry necessarily, but definitely not big on folding his clothes.

He just kind of accepts the fact that they're going to get wrinkles.

Accepts the fact that he'll be ironing his clothes for the rest of his life.

"Can't let those lessons from Ma go to waste"

Has, on more than one occasion, started doing his bedding in the morning and forgot about it until he was ready to sleep for the night.

Something about the meticulous process with sorting, folding, and putting away clothes just clicks with him.

Ghost // Laundry

Always sorts whites from colours

Has a seperate hamper by the washer for towels

Folds everything (even the underwear) into small little bundles when he packs for a trip or work.

Soap's entire worldview on laundry stresses him out a bit. Adding steps to a chore you already don't like?

Why

WHY

Not a fan of doing dishes. Somehow finds it more repetitive, time-consuming, and soul crushing.

Has thrown out 2 plates in his life because he couldn't be bothered with washing them

Has also genuinely contemplated Soap as a housemate when doing dishes.

"Solving each other's problems"

Has an expansive plastic cutlery collection.

Not even the type you'd buy in a large bulk pack from the store; but like cutlery, you get from takeout.

Argues that it's amazing for on the go lunches (you toss it out) and uses the forks to stir his coffee in the morning.

I would be lying if I told you this man hasn't thought of buying bulk everything to last him a month just so he doesn't have to clean.

Price // Neither, but does them anyway

Except Ghost pointed out that the bulk underwear would itchy, and Laswell refused to let him use her Costco card for this.

Not that he's messy or gross - no, no.

He is a rather clean guy but absolutely hates the process of getting there. It's mundane. It's exhausting.

Has walked by the washing machine, full of laundry he's waiting to swap over and muttered "fuckin' hell" when he realized it's not done yet.

Glares into the cupboard when he realizes his favorite mug is dirty, promptly glares at the mug for being dirty.

Then internally complains the entire time he's washing the thing. Despite having many other, perfectly suitable mugs in your cupboard. John.

He has the utmost pride in his appearance and is fairly meticulous about the care of his clothes.

Gaz // Laundry

It helps that his dad was the same way in his youth and taught him all the tricks to keeping things bright, getting stains out, and having the nicest smelling laundry.

Happily gives this advice out to his teammates and friends (no, I'm not doing your laundry for you. Wankers)

While doing dishes is sort of the same concept (different care needs for different things), he finds it too much of a pain when cooking.

As Kyle is the "seven knives" meme.

Yeah.

It also doesn't help that he always organizes the cupboards and drawers before all the dishes are done

Then, he has to start re-doing everything when he runs out of room for bowls.

Which typically ends up in the surplus of clean dishes stacked neatly on the counters or table.

Not by concious choice

Alex // Says he doesn't mind either, but it's actually neither

He truly doesn't mind either. he's just too much of a free spirit about it.

I'm talking: "eh, I'm fine to do it on the weekend"

Then, realizes he has one set of clean boxers left on a random Wednesday night.

Or forgets the clean laundry in the washer until it gets a weird smell and needs to be rewashed

Kyle had no other advice other than:

Just don't forget it in there then???

The same goes for the dishes in the dishwasher (minus the weird smell)

80/20 split on dishes, though (clean, sitting in the dishwasher)

80% of the time, he'll grab whatever dishes he needs for meals or cooking from the dishwasher as he goes.

20% of the time, he'll take everything out and put it away.

100% of the time, he promises himself to get the entire process done in one day (then 80% of the time forgets)

Taglist (all content): @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

Taglist (Alex content): @glitterypirateduck @deadbranch @gcing-back-to-505

[happypandajunkremoval]

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[probablyasocialecologist]

Those of us who’ve grown up in industrial societies have been taught our whole lives that GDP growth is essential to everyone’s well-being and quality of life. This quasi-religious belief in the goodness of growth persists despite numerous studies published over the past three decades demonstrating that once people’s essential needs have been met, further GDP growth does not increase life satisfaction. This disconnect between a nation’s overall economic growth and its residents’ quality of life is hardly surprising when we look at the United States, where the bulk of the wealth generated in recent decades has been captured and accumulated by only a tiny minority. As of last year, the wealthiest 1 percent owned one-third of the nation’s total household wealth, while 50 percent of households in the lower half of the wealth scale held only about 3 percent. Many of those households had no net wealth at all, and growth is doing nothing to help them. Of the new wealth that’s been generated since the depths of the Great Recession in 2009, the richest 10 percent have accumulated 75 times as much per household as have those at the bottom 50 percent. (In this graph on the Federal Reserve’s website, you really have to squint to see the bottom 50 percent’s share, in pink.) To restate the above more succinctly: in an affluent country, money can’t buy you happiness, but having a lot of money does help you acquire even more. And that’s always to the detriment of humanity, ecosystems, and our collective future. Despite the fact that economic growth has plunged us into an ecological emergency, and even though half the US population does not share meaningfully in the wealth that it produces, almost anyone you ask will express a positive view of economic growth, and most people will recoil at even the mildest suggestion that the time has come for degrowth. To help dispel the ingrained perception that growth is good and  degrowth bad, the economic anthropologist Jason Hickel has invoked an apt analogy: Take the words colonization and decolonization, for example. We know that those who engaged in colonization felt it was a good thing. From their perspective—which was the dominant perspective in Europe for most of the past 500 years—decolonization would therefore seem negative. But the point is precisely to challenge the dominant perspective, because the dominant perspective is wrong. Indeed, today we can agree that this stance—a stance against colonization—is correct and valuable: we stand against colonization and believe that the world would be better without it. That is not a negative vision, but positive; one that’s worth rallying around. Similarly, we can and should aspire to an economy without growth just as we aspire to a world without colonization. Hickel, Parrique, and other degrowth scholars stress that it is wealthy countries that need to undergo degrowth. What the rich nations are calling “growth,” he writes, is in reality “a process of elite accumulation, the commodification of commons, and the appropriation of human labor and natural resources—a process that is quite often colonial in character.” Those are the aspects of today’s economy that need to degrow, along with wasteful and superfluous production, not the essential goods and services that can ensure a decent life for all. The obligation to reduce material production and ecological degradation rests with the rich nations, and with rich populations in the rest of the world. Parrique showed another graphic at the conference illustrating how economies with “unsustainable prosperity,” like that of the US, must shrink, while economically deprived economies should be guaranteed the means and opportunity to build and transform.