#Online Engine Parts Store

[powertrainsalvage]

https://powertrainsalvage.com/

[carpartmall]

About Us, Shop with us today and experience the difference!

[foone]

Robot girl, finally back online after a year and a half, looking at the newly outfitted soldering station. There's a lot more tools on it than there were when she last closed her eyes: Inspection microscopes, hot air reflow, EEPROM programmers, logic analyzers, thermal cameras and regulated power supplies. She starts to tear up when she sees the video history of her partner (and repairperson): months and months of electronic tutorials, starting simple ("what is a circuit?") and towards the end there's PCB design classes and CCC videos about reverse engineering secure processor firmware.

"You did all this, for me?" she asks, her voice sounding different from how she remembers it, lacking the stutterglitch and 8-bit audio harshness. Her partner smiles. "I thought I'd lost you... I couldn't live with that. I had to!"

She hugs them in a pile of spare parts, servos moving smoothly for the first time in decades, pressure sensors finally accurate enough to hold them without risk of crushing them.

Sometimes, love is stored in the soldering iron.

[tinystepsforward]

autocrattic (more matt shenanigans, not tumblr this time)

I am almost definitely not the right person for this writeup, but I'm closer than most people on here, so here goes! This is all open-source tech drama, and I take my time laying out the context, but the short version is: Matt tried to extort another company, who immediately posted receipts, and now he's refusing to log off again. The long version is... long.

If you don't need software context, scroll down/find the "ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening" heading, or just go read the pink sections. Or look at this PDF.

the background

So. Matt's original Good Idea was starting WordPress with fellow developer Mike Little in 2003, which is free and open-source software (FOSS) that was originally just for blogging, but now powers lots of websites that do other things. In particular, Automattic acquired WooCommerce a long time ago, which is free online store software you can run on WordPress.

FOSS is... interesting. It's a world that ultimately is powered by people who believe deeply that information and resources should be free, but often have massive blind spots (for example, Wikipedia's consistently had issues with bias, since no amount of "anyone can edit" will overcome systemic bias in terms of who has time to edit or is not going to be driven away by the existing contributor culture). As with anything else that people spend thousands of hours doing online, there's drama. As with anything else that's technically free but can be monetized, there are:

Heaps of companies and solo developers who profit off WordPress themes, plugins, hosting, and other services;

Conflicts between volunteer contributors and for-profit contributors;

Annoying founders who get way too much credit for everything the project has become.

the WordPress ecosystem

A project as heavily used as WordPress (some double-digit percentage of the Internet uses WP. I refuse to believe it's the 43% that Matt claims it is, but it's a pretty large chunk) can't survive just on the spare hours of volunteers, especially in an increasingly monetised world where its users demand functional software, are less and less tech or FOSS literate, and its contributors have no fucking time to build things for that userbase.

Matt runs Automattic, which is a privately-traded, for-profit company. The free software is run by the WordPress Foundation, which is technically completely separate (wordpress.org). The main products Automattic offers are WordPress-related: WordPress.com, a host which was designed to be beginner-friendly; Jetpack, a suite of plugins which extend WordPress in a whole bunch of ways that may or may not make sense as one big product; WooCommerce, which I've already mentioned. There's also WordPress VIP, which is the fancy bespoke five-digit-plus option for enterprise customers. And there's Tumblr, if Matt ever succeeds in putting it on WordPress. (Every Tumblr or WordPress dev I know thinks that's fucking ridiculous and impossible. Automattic's hiring for it anyway.)

Automattic devotes a chunk of its employees toward developing Core, which is what people in the WordPress space call WordPress.org, the free software. This is part of an initiative called Five for the Future — 5% of your company's profits off WordPress should go back into making the project better. Many other companies don't do this.

There are lots of other companies in the space. GoDaddy, for example, barely gives back in any way (and also sucks). WP Engine is the company this drama is about. They don't really contribute to Core. They offer relatively expensive WordPress hosting, as well as providing a series of other WordPress-related products like LocalWP (local site development software), Advanced Custom Fields (the easiest way to set up advanced taxonomies and other fields when making new types of posts. If you don't know what this means don't worry about it), etc.

Anyway. Lots of strong personalities. Lots of for-profit companies. Lots of them getting invested in, or bought by, private equity firms.

Matt being Matt, tech being tech

As was said repeatedly when Matt was flipping out about Tumblr, all of the stuff happening at Automattic is pretty normal tech company behaviour. Shit gets worse. People get less for their money. WordPress.com used to be a really good place for people starting out with a website who didn't need "real" WordPress — for $48 a year on the Personal plan, you had really limited features (no plugins or other customisable extensions), but you had a simple website with good SEO that was pretty secure, relatively easy to use, and 24-hour access to Happiness Engineers (HEs for short. Bad job title. This was my job) who could walk you through everything no matter how bad at tech you were. Then Personal plan users got moved from chat to emails only. Emails started being responded to by contractors who didn't know as much as HEs did and certainly didn't get paid half as well. Then came AI, and the mandate for HEs to try to upsell everyone things they didn't necessarily need. (This is the point at which I quit.)

But as was said then as well, most tech CEOs don't publicly get into this kind of shitfight with their users. They're horrid tyrants, but they don't do it this publicly.

ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening

WordCamp US, one of the biggest WordPress industry events of the year, is the backdrop for all this. It just finished.

There are.... a lot of posts by Matt across multiple platforms because, as always, he can't log off. But here's the broad strokes.

Sep 17

Matt publishes a wanky blog post about companies that profit off open source without giving back. It targets a specific company, WP Engine.

Compare the Five For the Future pages from Automattic and WP Engine, two companies that are roughly the same size with revenue in the ballpark of half a billion. These pledges are just a proxy and aren’t perfectly accurate, but as I write this, Automattic has 3,786 hours per week (not even counting me!), and WP Engine has 47 hours. WP Engine has good people, some of whom are listed on that page, but the company is controlled by Silver Lake, a private equity firm with $102 billion in assets under management. Silver Lake doesn’t give a dang about your Open Source ideals. It just wants a return on capital. So it’s at this point that I ask everyone in the WordPress community to vote with your wallet. Who are you giving your money to? Someone who’s going to nourish the ecosystem, or someone who’s going to frack every bit of value out of it until it withers?

(It's worth noting here that Automattic is funded in part by BlackRock, who Wikipedia calls "the world's largest asset manager".)

Sep 20 (WCUS final day)

WP Engine puts out a blog post detailing their contributions to WordPress.

Matt devotes his keynote/closing speech to slamming WP Engine.

He also implies people inside WP Engine are sending him information.

For the people sending me stuff from inside companies, please do not do it on your work device. Use a personal phone, Signal with disappearing messages, etc. I have a bunch of journalists happy to connect you with as well. #wcus — Twitter I know private equity and investors can be brutal (read the book Barbarians at the Gate). Please let me know if any employee faces firing or retaliation for speaking up about their company's participation (or lack thereof) in WordPress. We'll make sure it's a big public deal and that you get support. — Tumblr

Matt also puts out an offer live at WordCamp US:

“If anyone of you gets in trouble for speaking up in favor of WordPress and/or open source, reach out to me. I’ll do my best to help you find a new job.” — source tweet, RTed by Matt

He also puts up a poll asking the community if WP Engine should be allowed back at WordCamps.

Sep 21

Matt writes a blog post on the WordPress.org blog (the official project blog!): WP Engine is not WordPress.

He opens this blog post by claiming his mom was confused and thought WP Engine was official.

The blog post goes on about how WP Engine disabled post revisions (which is a pretty normal thing to do when you need to free up some resources), therefore being not "real" WordPress. (As I said earlier, WordPress.com disables most features for Personal and Premium plans. Or whatever those plans are called, they've been renamed like 12 times in the last few years. But that's a different complaint.)

Sep 22: More bullshit on Twitter. Matt makes a Reddit post on r/Wordpress about WP Engine that promptly gets deleted. Writeups start to come out:

Search Engine Journal: WordPress Co-Founder Mullenweg Sparks Backlash

TechCrunch: Matt Mullenweg calls WP Engine a ‘cancer to WordPress’ and urges community to switch providers

Sep 23 onward

Okay, time zones mean I can't effectively sequence the rest of this.

Matt defends himself on Reddit, casually mentioning that WP Engine is now suing him.

Also here's a decent writeup from someone involved with the community that may be of interest.

WP Engine drops the full PDF of their cease and desist, which includes screenshots of Matt apparently threatening them via text.

Twitter link | Direct PDF link

This PDF includes some truly fucked texts where Matt appears to be trying to get WP Engine to pay him money unless they want him to tell his audience at WCUS that they're evil.

Matt, after saying he's been sued and can't talk about it, hosts a Twitter Space and talks about it for a couple hours.

He also continues to post on Reddit, Twitter, and on the Core contributor Slack.

Here's a comment where he says WP Engine could have avoided this by paying Automattic 8% of their revenue.

Another, 20 hours ago, where he says he's being downvoted by "trolls, probably WPE employees"

At some point, Matt updates the WordPress Foundation trademark policy. I am 90% sure this was him — it's not legalese and makes no fucking sense to single out WP Engine.

Old text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks and you are free to use it in any way you see fit. New text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks, but please don’t use it in a way that confuses people. For example, many people think WP Engine is “WordPress Engine” and officially associated with WordPress, which it’s not. They have never once even donated to the WordPress Foundation, despite making billions of revenue on top of WordPress.

Sep 25: Automattic puts up their own legal response.

anyway this fucking sucks

This is bigger than anything Matt's done before. I'm so worried about my friends who're still there. The internal ramifications have... been not great so far, including that Matt's naturally being extra gung-ho about "you're either for me or against me and if you're against me then don't bother working your two weeks".

Despite everything, I like WordPress. (If you dig into this, you'll see plenty of people commenting about blocks or Gutenberg or React other things they hate. Unlike many of the old FOSSheads, I actually also think Gutenberg/the block editor was a good idea, even if it was poorly implemented.)

I think that the original mission — to make it so anyone can spin up a website that's easy enough to use and blog with — is a good thing. I think, despite all the ways being part of FOSS communities since my early teens has led to all kinds of racist, homophobic and sexual harm for me and for many other people, that free and open-source software is important.

So many people were already burning out of the project. Matt has been doing this for so long that those with long memories can recite all the ways he's wrecked shit back a decade or more. Most of us are exhausted and need to make money to live. The world is worse than it ever was.

Social media sucks worse and worse, and this was a world in which people missed old webrings, old blogs, RSS readers, the world where you curated your own whimsical, unpaid corner of the Internet. I started actually actively using my own WordPress blog this year, and I've really enjoyed it.

And people don't want to deal with any of this.

The thing is, Matt's right about one thing: capital is ruining free open-source software. What he's wrong about is everything else: the idea that WordPress.com isn't enshittifying (or confusing) at a much higher rate than WP Engine, the idea that WP Engine or Silver Lake are the only big players in the field, the notion that he's part of the solution and not part of the problem.

But he's started a battle where there are no winners but the lawyers who get paid to duke it out, and all the volunteers who've survived this long in an ecosystem increasingly dominated by big money are giving up and leaving.

Anyway if you got this far, consider donating to someone on gazafunds.com. It'll take much less time than reading this did.

[feminist-space]

"The 80-year-old communications engineer from Texas had saved for decades, driving around in an old car and buying clothes from thrift stores so he’d have enough money to enjoy his retirement years.

But as dementia robbed him of his reasoning abilities, he began making online political donations over and over again — eventually telling his son he believed he was part of a network of political operatives communicating with key Republican leaders.

In less than two years, the man became one of the country’s largest grassroots supporters of the Republican Party, ultimately giving away nearly half a million dollars to former President Donald Trump and other candidates. Now, the savings account he spent his whole life building is practically empty."

...

One 82-year-old woman, who wore pajamas with holes in them because she didn’t want to spend money on new ones, didn’t realize she had given Republicans more than $350,000 while living in a 1,000 square-foot Baltimore condo since 2020.

By the time a Taiwanese immigrant from California passed away from lung cancer this year at age 80, she had given away more than $180,000 to Trump’s campaign and a litany of other Republican candidates – writing letters to candidates apologizing for not getting donations to them on time because she was going into heart surgery. She had only $250 in her bank account when she died, leaving her family scrambling to cover the cost of her funeral.

And a 78-year-old, a widow who limited showers to save on her water bill and canceled her long-term care insurance, didn’t understand why the retirement savings her husband had left her was dwindling so quickly. After CNN reached out to her family, they learned that the woman gave more than $200,000 in donations to Democratic political groups and candidates.

...

Richard Benjamin, an 81-year-old from Arizona, believed he had been in personal communication with former president Trump through all the messages he was receiving.

At one point, he told his children the former president invited him to a luxurious reception at Mar-a-Lago. He had grown up on a farm and worried he would feel out of his element at such a fancy venue. But when he received what he described to his children as an invitation to be a VIP at a rally in Arizona, he was thrilled he would finally meet the former president himself. He started making travel plans and asking his sister-in-law if she would like to accompany him, since his wife had passed away in 2018.

Later, he told his son how angry he was that Donald Trump Jr. wouldn't call him back even though the former president’s son had sent Benjamin so many nice messages."

[1d1195]

Most III

Read Most here | ~ 6.1k words

From me: I might be changing this from 5 parts to 6 parts 🎉 I wanted to get further in this section, but felt like a good place to stop as well.

Warnings: I think this part is more fluffy than the last couple, but of course there's some angsty stuff hiding in here too.

Summary: There are about 200 question Harry wants answered. But he can barely ask one because she's home. She's got a lot of worries. But maybe most pressingly, is finding out if Harry's moved on.

*Six Weeks Earlier*

Addie and Carter were arguing over the inconsistencies of the movie they were watching with what was recorded in history. Addie was obviously winning. But she thought Carter just liked to see her riled up, like to have her argue just a little because she got so excited when she did. She was so passionate, and it made Carter’s face glaze over as she showed off her expertise.

As they quietly bickered on the sofa, she was at their little kitchen table.

She was looking at apartments for rent near her mom because Addie was probably holding out on asking Carter to move in solely because of her. There weren’t a ton of options—no real surprise on her end. She didn’t want to live in the same town as her school as she thought of post-graduation and how it would be flooded with students, and she thought that parties outside her apartment wouldn’t be conducive to writing the next best-selling romance novel. (If she could muster the strength to go through such a feat.)

Her quest brought her to another search engine, and it seemed as if it was the holy grail. Reasonable rent, new building, new appliances, semi-walkable—it seemed too good to be true.

It was. Truly.

There was one issue. But only one. Her browser’s location services were majorly off course—the last time she visited the website must have stored her old info. Back when she thought she was going to have to find a place of her own because her mom was going to move away, and she was going to need a way to stay close to Harry.

The location was the life and town she left behind were part of the new building’s address. Her email pinged with a message regarding her schedule for the semester. All online classes so she could focus on working and writing as much as possible.

For a second, she forgot. Forgot all about her heartache and the pain she probably caused. He was probably over it by then. She hadn’t forgotten, but she figured three years later, he must have. But there was this pull on her chest to call him. To tell him about the place. Hi baby! I found a place for us to live. Do you like it?

With a shake of her head, she pulled herself out of it and examined the floorplan.

Addie and Carter were still debating. “—The American Revolution is constantly blown out of proportion,” she told him knowingly.

It pained her to interrupt, but it was now or never. “Do you guys think I should still jump?” She asked quietly. They both turned to her. Tilted their heads in curiosity. Almost simultaneously. Carter turned away first, pausing their movie and Addie was already crossing the room to look over her shoulder.

“Oh,” she blinked. “Oh,” she looked at the address for the apartment building. “You... you want to go back?”

Carter followed over and smiled, sat next to her, squeezed her arm. “That’s awesome,” he smiled. “Of course we—”

“What about your classes?” Addie frowned. “We’re supposed to have a year.”

“Well, I can’t keep living here when you’re days away from asking Carter to move in,” she rolled her eyes. Carter chuckled.

“I’d pick you over him,” Addie grumbled.

“Hey!”

“Oh please,” she laughed shaking her head. “I would never make you make that choice... don’t you want to have weird shower sex without me around?”

Carter smirked, his cheeks turning red slightly as he looked at Addie knowingly. “Told you that you were too loud,” he winked, kissed her cheek, and headed to the kitchen to start something for dinner.

Addie glared at him for implying it was her fault. Then she stage-whispered. “He does this thing where he turns me so that the angle—”

“Addison.”

The girls giggled. Then she turned to her laptop again. “My schedule just came through. My classes are online... there’s no apartments by my mom or aunt...” she swallowed feeling the anxiety creep up from her stomach. It moved to her chest, then her throat making her voice quiet. “I just think... if I go now... and I see that he’s moved on then I can... I can too. A reset.”

Addie stared at someone who was sure to be one of the most beautifully talented, insanely intelligent, and incrediblysuccessful authors of the 21st century. She was so honored to have her in her life and be her best friend.

Even if she was an idiot. “You really think he would have moved on?” She wondered.

She shrugged, hovered her mouse over the link to apply for the apartment. “Wouldn’t you?”

There was a pause as Addie watched her. “I’m going to run to get some ingredients,” Carter said tugging Addie toward him for a swift kiss. He grabbed his keys off the counter, then kissed the top of her hair as well. It made her blush because quite frankly, other than flirting at the restaurant, she hadn’t had physical male affection in years and even Carter’s assuring hand squeezes made her a bit flushed at times.

There was nothing at the store; he didn’t need ingredients. She and Addie had gone shopping the day before for all the food they could ever want (at least for the week). But Carter was perfect, and he knew when they needed their girl time.

Addie took the notebook that resided at the end of their faux-dinner table. She kept it there for inspiration. She never knew when the mood would strike to write something and since her best writing was often done at the table—be it essays, some of her favorite ideas, or just a grocery list where her handwriting looked nice—she liked to have something to work from when she was stuck for a thought. Addie lifted the cover slowly. Her heart took off, terrified of someone else seeing her most personal thoughts. But instead, she stayed silent, and Addie pointed to the inside cover.

A heart with her name and Harry’s written in the center took up majority of the space.

“When’s this notebook from?”

A brief pause as she tried to date it from visual and handwriting. There were so many notebooks she owned it took a moment to figure out which was which. “I was... ten,” she swallowed.

Addie nodded and went to the coffee table. She removed a cup of tea off the cover, a few hundred rings lined the blue cover as if it were truly a coaster and not one of the notebooks that would be in a museum about her famed author-life hundreds of years from now. “When’s this one from?” She asked and held out the nearly identical inside cover—another heart bearing two names.

She didn’t need much time to identify this one—it truly was her favorite. The evidence and words that reflected the first time Harry told her he loved her were written within the pages. “Sixteen.”

Then she went to the bookshelf tucked in the corner of their main room. This notebook was wedged between copies of novels she refused to part with, even though they hadn’t been read in years and they weren’t necessarily her favorites, but they were a part of her love of writing and books throughout school and home: Of Mice and Men; Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry; Perks of Being a Wallflower; The Kite Runner. Books she didn’t think of as romances but books that made her feel. The purpose of the notebook that resided among those titles was to remember those feelings even if they were painful. “This one?” She wondered.

“Eight,” she whispered. She started that one when she read her first Babysitter’s Club novel. “But I wrote in it last week too,” after she finished Where the Crawdads Sing.

There on the inside cover was the same heart and same names as every other notebook.

“What about the one on your nightstand, for your dreams?” Addie asked.

She blinked, looked at her lap. Twenty-one... I bought it last week when I filled up the one before it that I used for dreams. I liked the green and gold pattern. It reminded me of his eyes. But Addie already knew all that. There was a picture of Harry on her fridge. The two of them on his final day of school, her arm around his waist and his draped around her shoulders. They were just kids there. Unknowing that a year later she would break both their hearts. Sometimes she looked at that picture and wondered what it would be like if she didn’t leave. Maybe she would still be in the very same spot. Because Harry would have grown tired of her and their hum-drum life.

“I know I didn’t move on, though, Addie.”

“He didn’t either,” Addie put her notebook back safely between The Princess Bride and My Antonia.

“Addie... you don’t know him.”

“You don’t write fifteen notebooks worth of love poems about a man that doesn’t love you even half as much. Even if he loved you an eighth the amount that you loved him, you would still have the greatest love story ever,” Addie was confident. Watched her friend wordlessly as she processed all that.

After several more seconds of silence, she finally answered her. “Twenty-seven,” she mumbled.

Addie stared at her in awe. She loved Carter, but truly, her best friend had the greatest love story she had ever heard. “Yeah, exactly.”

Her attention went back to the available apartments. She frowned as she looked at the screen. “They’re all fifth floor,” she closed her eyes. It seemed like an obstacle set out to change her mind. “Maybe I shouldn’t do it.”

Addie was back at the table and pushing her hands out of the way. “So you don’t go on the balcony. It’ll be fine. You’re not going to live there so you can lounge and sightsee the view, anyway. You’re going so you can go back to him,” she reminded her. Not quite ignoring her fears but making sure they didn’t hold her back. Addie clicked the link for the first apartment and began typing in her information as if it were her own; she wrote that she was ready to move in within a month. “What if he hasn’t moved on? What are you going to do if you’re wrong and I’m right?”

It seemed impossible. Harry was beautiful, loving, so kind. Perfect. Why wouldn’t he have moved on?

There was this little flutter in her chest. It felt the way birthday candles flickered when everyone was singing, and the cake was brought to sit before the guest of honor. She grabbed the book at the end of the table and jotted a note down about how hope was often described as a flicker of light in the dark. When all seemed lost. But no one ever mentioned how darkness often came right after a birthday wish. How hope was really nothing more than a flameless candle.

Because of what she just wrote, she blew out a deep breath. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered as she closed the notebook again hoping her wish would come true.

*Present*

It felt like he couldn’t get back to the station fast enough. He left his coffee behind in the truck; only two sips taken from it. But it turned out it couldn’t compare to the adrenaline he felt then. He left his wallet behind in his locker. That didn’t matter, either. He didn’t need it.

Nothing else mattered.

He barely said goodbye to anyone and left his coworker to tell the rest of the shift why he was rushing to get out of the station. Normally, he took off his uniform before leaving but the thought of not seeing her, or that she was already gone had him sprinting to his car in the lot. Instead of his change of clothes he remained in his standard-issued navy-blue pants and the flame-resistant boots. Fortunately, he chose the station’s T-shirt and not the more formal button down for the day. It was the smallest bit more comfortable and slightly less ridiculous to be out and about.

Maybe she was just a figment of my imagination. He thought to himself. But his partner saw her. So unless he was projecting said figment...

She really was home.

To further his torture, his car and flow of traffic refused to go faster than the speed limit. It was utterly infuriating for his cause. He wanted nothing more than to just be there beside her. Nonetheless, he returned to where he last saw her car; turned right onto the street at the light and drove until something looked like she could be there. His heart was racing faster than it had in years. Adrenaline and excitement rushing through his body, making him sweat with anxiety. But it felt good. Like it was the best thing. It felt like he had just finished running. It was pure joy.

She was home.

There was an apartment building that seemed entirely too tall for their town. But he pulled into the lot wondering if he could identify the car that he saw on the road. He pulled into the spot beside it once he saw it, his heart in his throat. Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried not to panic. Scaring her off was his worst fear and if he did so, he might lose his mind worse than he ever had.

There was a metallic sound that hit his ears as he opened the door. Like the way a garage door opened. By the end of the lot was a storage pod, door open, and the sight of her from behind. Harry thought he was going to cry but he swallowed the emotion down. Slowly, he walked over, still terrified to scare her.

She disappeared deeper into the pod, and he heard a crunching, scraping sound. As he approached, he realized she was trying to maneuver a loveseat sofa out of a truck all by herself. There was a small dolly on the ground outside the storage pod entrance and Harry wondered if she seriously intended on lifting all the heavy stuff on her own like this.

“Fuck,” she hissed. The end of the sofa she was holding simultaneously dropped to the floor of the truck. “Stupid fucking—”

“Are you okay?” Harry asked instinctively. He went right into the storage pod as if he was moving in alongside her and was joining her because he had stepped out to grab something from his car and was just returning. It wasn’t the grand reunion he had planned, but to be fair, he hadn’t really thought about this moment in a long time.

Even the way her voice sounded when she cursed was sweeter than he could have imagined. She stuck her finger between her lips due to whatever injury she had inflicted upon herself. She shook her head with irritation. “I swear I’m a magnet for those stupid staples they put on the fabric and frame,” she inspected her finger and then pinched it into her hand. Effortlessly, he grabbed her hand. Like he hadn’t missed a day of touching her. He cupped her hand in his, inspected her finger himself. “This is like the tenth time this has happened to me.”

“I think y’need a new couch then, kitten,” he chuckled. It wasn’t his intention to just fall back into the way it was before she left. But it was without thinking—instinctive and natural. It made her heart ache to hear her pet-name from his lips. She sighed and gently tugged her hand from Harry’s and shook her hand, ridding herself of the minor pain. Harry turned and looked at the variety of furniture within the storage pod. Given he had been to her house no less than one million times, he recognized the couch he had also grown up with. The coffee table that they put their feet on when they watched movies. The table in her kitchen where he had so many dinners with her, he couldn’t count it. “Y’mum coming back?” He murmured terrified to hear the answer but desperate to know why he was seeing her in the flesh after all the years between them.

She shook her head. “No... she’s living closer to my aunt now in this tiny one-bedroom place. So, she had a ton of extra furniture. This is all hers. I’m just picking what I like best.”

His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest and jump into hers and live there, the way it was supposed to for all this time. “Y’moving back?” He tried to keep his voice even, so it didn’t sound so hopeful in case he was wrong. But he hoped. He hoped so badly.

“Yeah,” his heart swelled as she nodded shyly. But then her face contorted into a strange expression. Harry tried to place it but he hadn’t ever seen it on her face. Especially not in front of him. Was it...anxiety? About him? That seemed wrong. “Um... if that’s okay?” She asked looking at the ground briefly before gazing back at him.

Why she was asking didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. How she could possibly think he was going to decide such a fate was beyond him. But he was immediate in his answer; anything to get rid of the weird expression on her face that made him realize she was thinking about how she needed permission to live in the same town again. He nodded quickly. “’Course!” He almost shouted it. Cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean... s’not my decision really... but... It’ll be... nice t’have y’back,” he was so worried he was going to scare her off. He was glad he wasn’t holding her hand any longer because he was sure his hands were sweating something fierce.

“Yeah? That’s good. I’m...” she took a deep breath. “I’m really glad I’m back,” she looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he loved more than anything. That gentle smile that made his heart race.

“Good,” he murmured because if he said anything more, he was worried he would cry or ruin whatever moment of bliss this was. She was real and in front of him.

“Can I help y’move this?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” she shook her head.

He frowned and tilted his head at her. “You are obviously getting off work and I have made you do way too many furniture moves over the years and I don’t think it would be—”

Harry pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a message to his group chat with their friends. “The rest will be here in a bit.”

“No, they’re not,” she looked alarmed. “Harry, you’re joking.”

“Y’know them, kitten. They’re going t’be so excited—”

“Harry, they hate me.”

They didn’t have a lot of time alone. Harry gave them a forty-five-minute window to themselves. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

Professing his undying love for her after their time apart and begging for her back... he was hoping he wouldn’t manage that in forty-five minutes.

But the idea that anyone could hate her, when he was so completely, wholly, unbelievably in love with her even after three years of not speaking and nothing but memories replaying in his head... “They don’t hate you.” She looked at him nervously, like when they joined a lake party and people pressured her to jump off the plateau leading to the water. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “They missed you. They’ll be thrilled to see you.” She shrugged, unbelieving. “I promise,” he assured her and began distracting the pair of them before he said something ridiculous (even though I love you was so close to the tip of his tongue, it was absurd).

Harry took the end of the sofa that had snagged her finger. “Can y’jus’ guide it for me, kitten?” He asked. She nodded and helped get it off and onto the dolly. It was something small, but an effortless reminder that they worked so well together. They barely spoke, practically reading the other’s mind after all this time as they maneuvered the couch out of the storage pod. Once on the dolly, they made their way for the building in silence. “Elevator?” Harry asked. She nodded, continuing the comfortable quietness. “What floor?” He asked.

“Fifth,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. It felt like a hug that she hadn’t got from him in a long time. The feeling that he remembered something about her. Which was ridiculous—she remembered everything about him. “Y’didn’t ask for a lower floor?” He pouted.

“There were none,” she frowned.

“M’surprised y’agreed.”

“It’s a new apartment building,” she shrugged and shook her head. She felt like an idiot for saying that to him. He probably knew it was a new building. Probably did the safety inspection himself. “Anyway, there weren’t many options around here...” It took every bit of Harry’s crumbling restraint to not invite her to move in with him right then.

He missed her. That went without saying. Worried he would still say something outlandish, likea marriage proposal, he broached a different topic. “How... how was school?”

“Really good. But I only have a semester left because I took all the summer courses,” she explained. “They’re virtual and I... I really missed it here... so I figured... I figured it was time.”

His heart leapt. Praying that he was one of the things she missed but desperately clung to his semblance of coolness. “Miss Smarty Pants,” he murmured with a smile. Then she laughed. Harry thought he was cured. All that time between them was nothing. She laughed, she smiled. She was his best friend. She seemed older, more mature, and somehow more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined. In fact, she was so pretty he felt his mouth move before he could think about it.

“Y’look beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say it as they got to the floor and she gestured down the hall for her apartment.

“That’s very sweet. I lost a lot of weight running around campus and work without a car,” she admitted. “Well... enough weight to...”

Harry sighed, shook his head. Wishing he could squeeze the insecurity out of her like a wet sponge. “Your weight has never had anything t’do with why y’were beautiful, kitten.”

The way her cheeks turned pink made him feel sick. Didn’t people compliment her while she was gone?

Fortunately, he didn’t have to suffer thinking about her lack of compliments for long. “You look great, Harry. But you always did. It was incredible seeing you on the firetruck,” she smiled fondly. “I’m... I’m really proud of you.”

The very pride she felt went directly to his heart, swelled in his chest, and bloomed warmth all through his body. Once more he tried to feign his excitement and overwhelming urge to wrap her in a hug he decided to distract himself. “Where do y’want it?” She took a deep breath and shrugged.

“I don’t know... maybe... against this wall for now, I can move it later.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, love,” he frowned as he settled it into position. He was already worried about how he would manage to invite himself back into her apartment to prevent any self-injury—especially from the staples in her furniture.

“I won’t,” she promised. “I was... going to have Lauren come by once I get settled a little bit. She could help.”

“S’nice. I see Lauren a lot at the coffee shop. M’sure she’ll be happy to see you,” he smiled sweetly.

With the sofa in place, it felt the slightest bit awkward. She worried she would do something insane, like kiss him and put her arms around him like she was his necklace. So instead, she thanked him. “Thank you,” she sighed. “For helping.”

“Of course, love. M’happy to see you. S’been...” he trailed off and shook his head. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?” He asked curiously. He also asked so he wouldn’t continue the end of his sentence about having not seen her in ages.

“Ugh,” she groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “My storage unit is delayed naturally. There was a mix-up and it’s on it’s way cross country currently, no way to stop it so it’ll be...” she shook her head. “Ages. Until I see it. Fortunately, I have a good chunk in my car... but all my books, shelves, a ton of stuff I’ve collected since college. I don’t even have a glass to offer you a water,” she pouted.

He chuckled. “Oh... s’okay. M’fine, kitten.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Harry.”

He smiled and looked around again. “S’nice here. The balcony is pretty.”

“I guess... but I don’t plan on going on the balcony unless necessary... this fear of mine is ridiculous. Can’t even enjoy all 804 square feet of it.” She glanced out the door to the balcony. “I don’t think we ever had a building this tall around here. The view, from what I can see, is so pretty. A new way of seeing our pretty little town like this.”

Harry’s heart fluttered erratically over the way she said we and our. But he tried not to panic and instead made himself useful. “Do y’want t’go out there t’get a better look?”

She shook her head. “No way. I’ll probably hyperventilate or throw up or something equally embarrassing.”

He snorted, smiling easily. “I’ve seen you throw up before,” he reminded her.

“I’m well aware, Harry,” she groaned. “That was so gross. Literally the worst. I don’t know why you stayed.”

“I agree it was the worst, but because I thought y’were dying. Not because y’were gross or anything,” he shrugged. “C’mon, I’ll show you,” he moved next to her at the window and unlocked the slider, pushed it out of the way. She watched him step over the little threshold and held his hand out to her.

It was the reason she couldn’t go on a roller coaster by herself or jump off the rope swing at the lake like all their friends did in school. She couldn’t help her mom hang up Christmas lights on the house and always paid Harry to do it for her. Her fear of heights felt irrational. Only a small percentage feared it. Harry was always quick to remind her that the small percentage still accumulated to hundreds of millions of people.

But even still, he held his hand out, waiting patiently and expectantly. Somehow, it was the easiest thing in the world to trust him. The feeling was electric, holding his hand. It was as if no time had passed at all. As if she had said ‘see you tomorrow’ instead of, ‘it’s too far for us.’

He squeezed her hand as she took cautious steps onto the balcony. A measly hand hold. Harry had touched and kissed parts of her that would never see a drop of sunlight but somehow the way he held her hand was more intimate. His palm pressed to hers, warm and familiar. His thumb stroked the back of her hand. It was perfect. It was slow and felt so safe. It was unreal how easily it was to revert to the time before. Harry was there, so she was going to be okay.

“Watch y’step,” he said softly. “S’a little uneven there,” he scuffed his shoe on the floor. “S’probably a support beam,” he explained. She nodded.

“I’ll have to put a little patio rug out here and a table and chairs so no one trips.”

“That sounds so cute. Can y’put a grill out here?”

“A grill?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking about that pound cake bread y’like with the strawberries? Or jus’ marshmallows.”

She smiled eager to hear more about what he remembered and what came to mind so readily. “Uh... I have to read the lease agreement. I’m not sure. Probably a fire hazard. Wouldn’t want you rushing down here because of me,” she giggled.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. He glanced back over the railing and admired the view for a moment. “M’not sure about the whole town, but a good chunk of it.”

“Is that the fire station way back that way,” she pointed and then put her free hand on the railing. Harry stood beside her, following the direction of where she pointed, proud that she was able to stand there without fear it seemed. It made him happy she still felt safe with him. “Yeah, I think so... Mum’s house is...” he pointed the other way. “Y’see the blue house? Four streets back from that.”

“Cool,” she grinned. “Do you live with her still?”

He chuckled. “No... I live...” he squinted a bit and pointed back towards the fire station. “You see the shopping plaza?” He asked. She nodded. “Two streets behind it. The small one.”

“It’s cute... I think,” she giggled again which made Harry chuckle quietly. “I like the trees.”

“I want t’put a hammock in and—” he released her hand to speak and gesture what his plan was with two of the trees in his yard. But she gasped the second he released her hand. Nearly tripped as she stumbled back away from the railing. Harry caught her around the waist before she could fall on the uneven ground. “Hey, careful—”

“Don’t let go,” she reminded him turning toward him slightly but trying to maintain as much distance as she could; given he was holding her around the waist, and she refused to let go. It wouldn’t be fair to him to get too cozy in his arms the way she would have a few years prior.

“Oh,” he swallowed. His heart raced with nerves and anxiety. Part of him felt shame for not realizing what that would do to her. He should have known. He knew how nervous she got about heights. Especially from the level they were on. “M’sorry, kitten.”

She swallowed; her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “No, I’m sorry. I was just... I don’t—”

“No, s’okay,” he promised. “I won’t let go,” he assured her and took her hand again (even though he would have preferred to have her stay in his embrace). “I wasn’t thinking.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, but m’sorry. Didn’t mean t’scare you, love.”

Harry was way too nice. If he was smart, he would have pushed her off the side of the balcony for making him so sad the last few years. “It’s really okay, Harry. I know you didn’t—”

“But I should have—”

“Harry,” she squeezed his hand silencing his sentence. “You don’t need to apologize. I promise. I’m just nervous, you know.”

It was quiet and Harry sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

They could have stayed on that balcony for the rest of their lives if it meant Harry was going to hold her hand and they would stay rooted in that spot. They were silent and watched their not-so-little town, filled with bustling cars and people. “It feels bigger,” she whispered.

“Well, y’did go t’a school with the population of sixteen people and a moose.” The laughter that came from her mouth was like pure magic. Harry swore he never heard anything sound so sweet.

Once they both stopped giggling, she wanted to know more about his hammock and what he planned to do with his yard and other things. She wanted to hear about his career and school and everything in between. As she was about to ask, Harry saw the cars pull into the lot.

Sarah and Eleanor in one vehicle, the boys in the other. “C’mon,” he murmured and pulled her back inside. Silently, they made their way down in the elevator to the parking lot once more. The five of them were grouped together near the back of the two cars, huddled together conferring.

“I bet it’s a creepy shrine. Like he’s going to do a séance to get in touch with her,” Louis suggested.

“She’s not dead, Louis,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried that he’s finally gone off the deep end,” she frowned.

“Well, it can’t be worse than him asking Lauren where she is all the time,” Sarah grumbled bitterly. Mitch put a hand on her back and gently rubbed the bitter tension from her muscles soothingly.

“Who knows, but he asked for us to bring him pizza, so that’s a good sign, right?” Niall asked.

“They’re going to hate me,” she whispered under her breath as they approached quietly.

“Shh,” he squeezed her hand.

“Can I just say that I’m really worried we’re going to have to call the authorities about him?” Louis asked releasing a massive breath, like it was painful to say the words out loud.

“No, I was thinking the same thing,” Sarah nodded in agreement. “It’s right around the time she left and you know how he gets—”

“The first year was the worst,” Mitch reminded everyone.

“You guys really thought I would text you and tell y’where t’find m’body?” Harry asked. They all turned to the pair of them. Their words disappeared into the air. Silence spread between all of them.

“Holy shit,” Louis whispered.

“Pretty weird of him to ask you to bring pizza if that were the case,” she swallowed nervously. For her whole life these people were her best friends and she abandoned them as much as she abandoned Harry, their town, and everything that was good. She looked at the five pairs of eyes that were unblinking as they processed what was happening.

Niall dropped the pizza. “Oh my God,” he was first. He broke into a quick stride and wrapped his arms around her the way Harry dreamed of doing for the last forty-five minutes. He kissed the side of her head and Harry was just so overwhelmed with jealousy he tried to focus his attention on anything but the way he felt utter dread seeing Niall hold and kiss her the way he had ached to do so for the last three years. “How are you, princess?” He asked.

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Out of the way!” Eleanor hip-checked Niall before he could answer and wrapped her arms around her the same way that Niall had. Further fueling how jealous Harry was. “Make yourself useful, Niall. Order more pizza!”

“I don’t even have plates or enough seats to have you all in and—”

“Did you think we would get all fancy?” Sarah asked and gently pushed Eleanor aside to get her own hug. “We’ll sit on the floor and eat off the boxes.” Mitch was next and murmured something in her ear that Harry wanted to know desperately, solely because her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink so much.

Louis was last. Because as hurt as Harry was, Louis was a close second. All of them mourned for their friend in their own ways—even though she wasn’t truly gone. But naturally they put their own grief aside for Harry. But she was back now. Sure, Harry was ready to forgive her instantly, but Louis would be a harder sell it seemed. “Hi,” she whispered. Louis looked at her pensively, making her gulp.

“Hi,” his voice was curt and filled with distrust.

She looked at the ground. “Pretty crazy about Messi, hmm?” She looked back up at him.

“Don’t tempt me, darling,” he grumbled and finally pulled her into a hug. He kissed the side of her face and held her for a long time. Louis also whispered something in her ear, and she nodded against him.

“Well,” Eleanor clapped her hands together. “I was wondering why Harry said we needed to wear comfy clothes. Point us in the right direction, babe. Let’s get you moved back home.”

“You okay?” Sarah asked quietly, taking up the rear with Harry as they moved toward her storage pod. Peppering her with questions and falling back into old jokes and laughter within seconds.

Harry nodded, his heart finally started to feel whole. “Yeah," she turned back and met his gaze with a gentle smile. A smile that made him melt and feel like he could fly if she asked. "Finally.”

--

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[goatgoesmbe]

In your opinion, what jobs 141 would have out of military?

For me, Price would work on a hospital in ER, this man can't be out of stressful situations even if he wanted, or he would work on OB/GYN. Or maybe a cop.

Gaz, my golden boy, a bit clichê, but he would definitely be a model, I can't see him anywhere else. This man would be in Vogue, and if someone questioned, he would be like "That model really looks like me".

Ghost it's extreme, we would either be a butcher, just there to pay rent, or he would do like, theater/musicals, at t first he was just there for the joke, someone like him doing this, but then he just found out he has a great voice, then he's making "colleagues" they're friends he just doesn't want to admit, then he's full on making tours.

Soap, a little bit controversial, but he at frist would try something "More like military", cop, etc. then he tried being a kindergarden teacher, and now he's full on making little activities with the children. This man loves kids.

-🐻✨

Ok, honestly i love all of these and it made sensee

And tbh ive never thought about it myself.. but if i have to think about it then..

Price: Headchef Ghost: butcher/store-clerk + stand up comedian on the side Gaz: Pediatrician Soap: aerospace engineer

Price, this man thrive in stressful situation LOLOL (so u right, but OB/GYN Price?? HMMMM yes.. EHEHEH- I think if I have him helping me giving birth, id just get pregnant again immediately)

I wanted to say firefighters, cops, and the like- but its lowkey similiar to military. So if i had to think anything way different, id say he'd be a headchef at a high end restaurant.

Its stressful, working in cramped space with the heat and all, they need someone level headed like him who could also command people.

Gaz being a model just made sense, ofc- but for some reason i had this idea that it would be a cliche where he never even think of working in that field.

He just be minding his own business and then suddenly this guy scouted him, offering him a job as calvin klein model or something. Which sounded like a scam, Gaz thought it was a scam, but apparently not.

That, or one day he agreed to model for a friend's little online shop. It was nothing big, but somehow he went viral and now there are a lot of people seeking to recruit him, offering a hefty amount of money.

That, or he would be working at a job that work directly with people to help them.

He's also very kind, empathetic, and always wanted to help people. So.. (again if its not fireman and smtn similar to miliatry) he would make more sense to work in the hospital, he'd work in ER or be a pediatrician. EMT also works for him

Ghost being a butcher, because that what he would do if he never went to military. And I LOVE LOVE HC when its something people wont corelate the character to but just make sense, like what u said, theater/musical

Some other things i think he would do.. are stuff that's not too extreme, idk why- but compared to the others, outside of the military it made sense for him to have a comparably chill job. Well maybe not chill chill, but it's something that he could do with his brain off, letting his body move in autopilot, like working in a store, or bartending.

BUT- just like musical, I could actually picture him doing stand up comedy on the side LOL

Soap being kindergarten teacher would be great, coz i HC him having a big family and so he was used to handling children (cousins, nephews, nieces, and all). BUT the thing is- he treated every children like they were part of the MacTavish, which means he often play too rough with them. The kids are having fun, they're fine, but parents don't like that. He would also do great working as a football coach for kids.

And, I feel like he would need a job thats often stimulating, he's also very smart so I can picture him being a detective actually, or high-end engineer (aerospace, biomedic, nuclear, etc)

He's that one unemployed guy who got a job at NASA as his first job after a long time, bro gotta stop applying at indeed, now he be going to mars in an hour

[multiheadcanons]

I KNOW A GUY

scout: need a car pushed? need a free house sitter who won’t steal your shit? need a good playlist in thirty minutes for a very specific situation? need a group of guys in front of your place in an hour? need something delivered quickly under the radar? need someone jumped in a back alley? need a body buried? he’s your guy.

soldier: do you need a body buried? need someone’s nose broken? need some extra limbs of unknown origin? need a free bodyguard at the club so you can have a good time alone? need a free accidental hitman? need someone who will make you feel good about yourself by making you feel bad about yourself? need your gutters cleaned on your house? need someone who will come literally fight the monsters under your kids bed? he’s your guy.

pyro: need a body buried— well, cremated? got a financial emergency in which you can’t afford? need a sugar parent you don’t have to sleep with? at your nephews party and spider-man didn’t show up and now you need someone in a costume at this house pronto? need a gift for your nephew because you forgot to buy one? pyro’s your person for the low low price of kindling.

demo: need a drink that will make you experience ego death? need a ride for your bitch of an aunt so she never asks you to do anything ever again? need connections to a guy who sells peculiar cuts of meat from peculiar animals? need someone to get cussed out, for no reason? need a structure demolished in ten minutes? need someone who’s got vintage vinyls for sale? he’s your guy.

heavy: need your car pushed? need a meal made for fifteen? need someone handled? need an emergency ride to the hospital in the dead of winter? hell, need anything done in the dead of winter? need something out of a tree? need a tree cut down? need a plant sitter while you’re out of town? he’s your guy.

engineer: need your car’s computer replaced at a fraction of the cost? want someone’s tesla booted permanently? need a custom built prosthetic? need security cameras installed? need your wifi restarted? need someone who can cut a key in two minutes? need someone who can pick a lock in less than five? he’s your guy.

medic: you need some boobs? need some boobs removed? need to add or delete a penis? did you run out of testosterone or estrogen? need a binder? need a packer? hell, need a supplier for your side job of drug dealing? need a new kidney? need an abortion? need a hysterectomy under the table? need some unethically sourced body parts of unknown origin? all for the low price of free and don’t tell anyone? medic is your guy for all things medical. he does not care, he will just keep whatever he takes.

sniper: you need a body double to go with you to the store? need a guy who can do intermediate addition and subtraction without a calculator? need someone stalked? need a guy who has nothing but free time to get in an online queue and wait all day to buy your concert tickets? need a ride to and from said concert? he’s your guy.

spy: do you happen to need an armchair therapist? need access to a book in one library across the country? need a rumor spread like the plague? need someone handled? need a body buried? need a thirty minute etiquette class before you go on a date? need a new cook after you killed the last one at the restaurant? he’s your guy.

[oppropro]

Just a fanfic I have written for @celestialkiri

I am so in love with Sophie and Wukong and thought I might write a story of how Sophie ended up in the JTTW universe. All credit for character creation goes to @celestialkiri @jttw-monkeybusiness. I really hope you like this, I tried my darndest!

Chapter 1 - Bad Luck

Luck finally seemed to be going Sophie’s way. Standing under the awning of a storefront she had never glanced at, on a street she had traveled nearly every day for the past six years, the universe had finally given her a sign.

            Her day had not started out so terrible; she had found an anthology of 19th century poetry at a discounted price, as well as a special edition of National Geographics about old world monkeys. Along with a couple of used novels, her outing to the consignment store had been a net positive. Also, her mother had texted her to let her know that Granny had cancelled their plans for dinner that evening.

            Sophie had feigned disappointment at the news, truthfully though, she had not been in the mood to have her grandmother lecture her on how she wasn’t in a relationship, how she wasn’t living on her own yet, and how her pursuit of a master’s degree had yet to produce a meaningful career. Yes, Sophie was in a slump: she was moving back home into her mother’s house after her roommates decided to fall in love, marry, and move to the suburbs; and no, she had yet to find any job that would allow her to pay for her own apartment.

            It’s not like Sophie wanted to move back home. At least her mother was being supportive. She would not have to pay rent and would have some place safe to stay while she looked for work that she wanted to do; or at the very least would pay well. Nearly all of her personal belongings were already at her mother’s home, and after leaving her old apartment for good, all she had on her was her new used treasures, her sketch book that she took everywhere, the toiletries from her apartment and last night’s pajamas.

            Her luck for the day changed when the city bus suddenly lurched forward, sending herself and all the other passengers flying from their seats. Then a clunk, a sputter, and a horrid grinding sound. Finally puffs of white smoke billowed out of the engine. Everyone exited relatively unscathed and stood on the sidewalk and watched as the befuddled bus driver attempted to resuscitate the dead jalopy. A relief bus was on its way, but it was going to be a while, and would be crowded. Sophie looked at the intersection and estimated that the walk home would be two hours tops; too late to be home for dinner but that wasn’t a problem anymore. And so, Sophie continued the rest of her journey on foot.

            The weather was sunny and cool, and Sophie took the time walking to contemplate her current situation. She had been searching for jobs but had been met with rejection after rejection: you do not have the qualifications necessary for our position; your qualifications are great, but you don’t have enough experience; you seem to be overqualified for this position, but we will keep your resume on file. The money Sophie had in savings was nearly depleted; she didn’t want to go back to a job as a part-time barista; and online commission work wasn’t enough to live off of. She was starting to feel desperate for something, anything in her field.

            Sophie traversed the city sidewalks at a steady pace, mindful not to step on any cracks, a habit picked up from childhood. It started out as some old superstition which then evolved into a routine, an odd competition in which no one but her was competing. Sophie smiled to herself watching her shadow and her feet step one after the other indifferent to the sounds of the street around her. Soon enough, the darkness of her shadow faded, and the colour of the pavement greyed as shadows gathered over head. Sophie looked up and watch the rain come down; a light drizzle quickly turning into a torrential downpour. A large raindrop landed in her eye causing her to shake her rub her eyes until tears washed out any foreign particles and she could see clearly again; she was standing on a crack in the sidewalk. Bad luck.

            Sophie didn’t have time to dwell on what her bad luck might be as she sought to closest shelter she could, a storefront awning. It was an unassuming building, windows plastered with pictures of far away landscapes, sunset beaches, and tropical flowers. Above the door read the name Eastern to Western Expeditions. Slightly below the store name, at eye level with Sophie, was handwritten sign on what looked like a scrap piece of orange neon cardboard: Help needed URGENTLY! No experience necessary, Inquire within.

            The rain showed no signs of letting up any time soon, and it seemed to Sophie as though the gods themselves had placed her in this spot, at this moment for a reason. At the very least, she would be foolish not to inquire about the job. She opened the door and stepped inside.

********

            The chimes at the door rang softly as Sophie stumbled through the threshold. Without any grace she quickly regained her balance. The entrance, it seemed, was a few inches higher than the pavement outside. Sophie scanned the open room to make sure there were no witnesses to her dramatic entrance; there was no one. Despite the crisp white walls, the room was dimly lit due to the lack of natural light blocked by pictures on the shop front window and overhead lights were only giving off a faint warm glow. Probably for the ambiance, Sophie assumed, the floor was carpeted in bamboo mats, the wall art took inspiration from Ming Dynasty art. A desk stood near the back of the room, solid mahogany. No computer or land line, just a small bonsai, a desk sized rock garden with mini rake, and a Tiffany lamp with intricate lotus petals coloured pink and white.

            A woman stepped through the beaded doorway with a Staff Only sign above. An Asian woman, slightly taller than Sophie. Her skin was as close to porcelain as Sophie had ever seen. Her dark, lustrous hair tied tightly back in a low ponytail showing off her prominent widow’s peak; not a single strand of hair was out of place. She was wearing white pants and a blazer with hints of a cream frilled blouse underneath. Poor Sophie was so awestruck as the woman met her gaze and smiled that she didn’t even register the peculiarity of what was in the strange woman’s hand: a tray with a tea pot and two cups, already steeped as though this was the exact time tea was to be served. The woman sat down quietly behind the desk and Sophie unthinkingly sat on the other side.

            “Unusual weather we are having today,” the woman said as she handed Sophie a cup of tea.

            “Yeah,” Sophie replied wordlessly, grasping the cup with both hands. The warmth of the cup made her suddenly aware of the coolness of the room. After a few seconds, which seemed to Sophie like eras, she finally spoke to the woman; “I saw the sign on your door.”

            The woman laughed. The sound of her laugh was warm and comforting to Sophie, it put her at ease. It reminded her of the way her mother would laugh at her childhood antics. Sophie felt like she would say or do anything to hear that laugh again. “I was wondering when someone would take notice of my sign. It has been up for quite a while, but you are the first to inquire about it.”

            This is my sign Sophie thought to herself Luck is on my side. “As it stands, I am currently unemployed, and I am looking for work. I don’t have a resume on hand, but I can gladly email a copy to you. I just thought I would come inside and introduce myself first and…” Sophie began to feel her breath escape from her, bringing along with it any sense of self-assuredness and cohesion.  and inquire about the nature of the job you have advertised… and… it’s raining outside.”

            The woman across from Sophie smiled as she took a sip from her cup. There was no sign of judgement on her face. She spoke with a soft authority. “I pride myself as a good judge of character, and I believe you may be an excellent candidate for the position.”

            Sophie relaxed her shoulders as she exhaled and decided to take a sip of the tea. It was bitter, but not unpleasant. “Are you looking for an administrative position? I don’t have any formal experience, but I appreciate the importance of keeping organized files and detailed record keeping. As a master’s student I had to…”

            “Oh no, no,” the woman interrupted Sophie. “This is not an administrative position. I have been contracted by a client of mine to seeking an assistant on an expedition. This is a travel agency of sorts. We cater to individuals who are interested in more meaningful travel experience; off the beaten path, away from crowded tourist spots and immerse themselves in cultural customs and natural wildlife in small tour groups with a low carbon footprint.”

            Whatever remaining confidence Sophie had quickly begun to seep away. “You would need me to travel?”

            The woman nodded.

            “Like, travel out of the country travel?”

            “I can assure you that you will be completely safe on this excursion.”        

            Despite the woman’s smile the genuineness of her voice, Sophie was anything but assured. Her passport had expired two years ago. What vaccines would she need? Would she need travel visas? Was this a front for human trafficking? Am I being trafficked right now? Sophie calmly placed her teacup on the table as she began to plan her exit strategy. Why were there two cups of tea? How did she know someone was coming? I’m being punked? Is that still a thing? I’m on camera right now? Sophie mustered a smile on her face, “Like I said, I just wanted to pop in and inquire. I will definitely send you a resume later on tonight… or tomorrow.” As Sophie stood up to leave for the exit, the woman rose as well with an unnatural grace which left Sophie speechless.

            “I appreciate you coming in” the woman said guiding the bewildered Sophie to the front door. She had her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. Just get out of this place and never think about it again. Just get out of this place. Just get out of this place. Sophie repeated the mantra in her head. It was the only way she could keep her composure. She barely noticed the sound of chimes as the woman opened the door for her.

            “It was a pleasure to meet you…”

            Sophie was barely paying attention to what the woman was saying. Just step out the door and go home. You are going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.

            “…and Sophie?” the woman’s voice was sounded somewhat empathetic.

            I didn’t tell her my name.

            “Mind that first step.”

            With a firm push from the woman, Sophie fell forward. Not into the rainy street but into complete darkness.

[dailycass-cain]

So you want to preorder the NEW Batgirl #1 coming to a comic shop near you on November 6?

Well, hopefully, this can help you attain that preorder. So you're doing your part to make sure this series lasts.

The first step is to find your local comic shop. Use a search engine for that most heavenly of place that has comics.

Or if you already know search them online (they might have an online shop), an app, call the store, or visit it in person.

Now I'm using my experience from the shops I visit in the midwestern area. So this could be different in the region you're in the US (or Canada). I have no idea on the best way to attain this book outside the country save Canada. So anyone who can answer that pls chim in here.

I mean, possibly, you could buy it on their website (or their eBay shop) and MAYBE they have international shipping. Then again, if you have a US friend maybe they can do this all for you?

Preorders will begin next month. If you go in person you could put your order in. If you know those who work at the LCS they might think of you and put that in your pull list.

I know one LCS in my area, he is thoughtful enough to sometimes keep a variant that has Cass for me knowing that Wed I pull up I'll nab it. Cause he knows my weakness. That, and Rian Gonzales variants.

Likewise, the other LCS I went too. There was a clerk there who'd put stuff in my pull that she knew I'd like.

But there's always that chance they might not do any of this. So it's best to just do this person next month to guarantee your preorder.

Now let's talk about variants. Some shops if they sense there's "blood in the water" when preordering will order more comics. More comics mean more chances to get the variants (i.e. the Artgerm or Jeff Dekal ones).

There are only two variants that might be problematic to attain that I can foresee.

The holo variant from Artgerm one. Unless there's a comic convention near you that same weekend there's a good chance these might sell pretty fast. It is Artgerm after all.

Unless, your LCS is part of a "larger" chain. So one of my LCSs is a Graham Crackers which is a HUGE midwestern comic shop. So there's a really good chance I'll be able to attain all my variants.

HOWEVER....

The other LCS I go to, while they are my primary pull list really don't dabble much too much in variant covers.

This is because they're trying to make a profit and they don't see being able to make one. At least that's what I was told back when I had Batgirls on my pull.

If they do. It would be two or three copies. Like the last AAPI Batgirls variant. Said my shop owner did secure me a copy even without me asking them because they knew of my interest in Cass.

I've noticed since they "enacted" that policy they do order more of the "hotter" comics. Like I noticed a few Birds of Prey, Batman, and X-Men variants in one visit not too long ago.

Still, I know attaining the 1:25 Skylar Patridge will be next to impossible from them. They don't order 25 copies of a comic (unless it's Batman or Spider-Man).

For that, I'd recommend a larger comic shop chain (or if you know your LCS. They might order enough and you can reserve said copy via them next month).

If not...

Again, I'd recommend a larger chain with their web shop or if they have one via eBay. I've nabbed all the variants I want because Graham Crackers is HUGE in the Midwest.

If you know your shop will have more than 25 copies of Batgirl #1 please preorder the 1:25 by Patridge next month if possible.

Or wait until their website opens orders (usually a week prior to release on a Thursday.

If not... There's always a chance if there's a comic around that period (or a bit after) they might have it to purchase. However, you so won't be paying the original cost of it. 😬

Now here's my overall impression of the release. DC itself doesn't think this comic might sell. I mean they're only doing a 1:25 only for this series. That's it.

That already is 🚨 because we aren't getting a 1:50 like we did with Batgirls #1.

That is why I HIGHLY stress PLEASE PREORDER THIS COMIC! DO NOT WAIT UNTIL NOVEMBER 6th! Show your love for this character by preordering the heck out of it! Add this to your pull list!

Please do your part!

That said, please go crazy and nab these covers and variants. They ain't kidding when the last Cass solo was over 14 years ago (I'm counting Batgirl Vo1. 2). You've voiced your want. DC heard it. This is you honoring that want.

Cause if not...

Well, I can't say cause in all honesty? The old DC regime is gone. They ain't side scheming or pushing something else behind the scenes. Just this might be it for Cass when it comes to an ongoing solo.

Why I say please do your part. Hopefully, this helps and if not someone better than me can advise you better (and they reply via this post). But this is me doing my best with the knowledge I know.

[callofdudes]

could you do some hcs for platonic 141 and a techie/hacker reader? i’d love to see your take on their friendship with someone like that :) also love your work, thanks for making so many cool hcs and scenarios 🥰❤️❤️

I like this. This is good. 😄 Also thank you! I hope you enjoy your headcanons.

141 with a hacker/tech oriented teammate

Ghost 💀

Ghost is somewhat of a hacker himself. In the 09 game Ghost is the 141's hacker. Simon is in love with computers and codes. It's something of a hobby.

So when he meets you and discovers you are also a whizz with computers he's thrilled.

You two are both set up to work together and this is what brings you closer, bonding over your your shared skill set.

Sometimes you'll go to Ghost if you are having a particularly difficult problem, and him vice versa.

And despite Simon knowing everything there is to know about a computer from it's chip, to it's processing hardware, to the INS and outs of connecting wirelessly to and encrypted computer- he cannot figure out his own fucking phone.

Yeah yeah, laugh it up. He knows how to use it but sometimes he's socially inept.

"Sergeant. Johnny just sent me a link to this site... He put a smiley face emoji, and a... Heart?? Is this a threat?"

You take one took at the url and cringe. "Just ignore it. Don't click on it. I'm going to restrict Johnny's network access right now!"

Simon nods, not questioning it. Though he is curious what this site it. Knowing Johnny it can't be something innocent.

Simon also loves to spend his free time making complicated encrypted codes for you to puzzle through. If you're feeling bored he'll flip you a USB and tell you to clear the malware in an hour.

It's always fun.

And it's really what got the two of you close in the first place.

Simon always reaches out for your help in missions first.

"Y/n, can you open the door, it's blocked?"

"Is it online?"

"Bloody- yes it's online."

"Is there a key card for it??"

"Yeah... But I don't want to go look for it."

You chuckle. "Alright big guy, give me 2 seconds."

Johnny is scared of you two.

He came into the kitchen one morning and heard you using foreign 16 letter words and strange alien language while reading a book on computer engineering with Ghost. Worst part was, he spoke the strange language back!

Johnny thinks your aliens for a half minute until you define the words for him and he's good to go.

Simon knows you're a hacker, but he also tried to figure out your other hobbies. Like, maybe you take long walks around the neighborhood in the morning?? Or you play volleyball. Something like that.

He spends most of his time with you. He just likes hanging out with you in general. And after you rigged up a PS5 to the old ass TV in the common room it's been nonstop fun off duty.

He takes it upon himself to train you. You're both skilled but if there is something you aren't sure of or haven't faced before in your military training you'll go to him. And he's always willing to help.

Overall, Ghost really likes you. And he admires your skill. One day you might be as good a hacker as him 😉

Soap 🧼

You and Johnny are much more similar than you might think. Johnny does a bit of his own hacking when it comes to delaying a bomb, rewiring them or defusing them all together. So he knows a good thing or two.

He does a little bit of hacking, nothing spectacular like you or Ghost though.

Definitely asks you to hack the PS store so he can get more game points.

Asks you about video games in general. Yes, sure, your hacking is very professional and you use it for the missions but what about videogames!?

You find that jimmy rigging things for Johnny is just the best way to show your love. He came to you one afternoon asking if you could make one of his headphones play music and the other receive comms. From the others.

Silly Johnny.

Will ask you to somehow get the Christmas lights in his room connected to the main power. He is very disappointed when you tell him that electrician is a very different job from technician.

Will probably ask you to teach him some more advanced hacky stuff when he can. Definitely doesn't ask you for help pranking the recruits when it's tech involved. And you definitely don't occasionally help him.

Johnny is a bit scared by all the computer books on your shelf and all the big words inside. Your equally as scared by his quantum mechanics books and all his explosives manuals.

It's equal honestly.

He is like Ghost in the sense that when he could just ask you to do something for him instead of looking everywhere for something.

"Y/nnnnnnnn" he whines.

"What's up Johnny? Are you in the building yet??"

"No, it's locked and I don't know the code."

"Is it written down somewhere??"

"Y/n, could you just.... Open it??"

You chuckle. "Give me a minute buddy."

The door clicks and turns green. "Yippee! 😁" And in he goes.

You've found you need to wipe his phone every other month and set him up with an antivirus you need to remind him to pay for. Because he connects to any and all networks without a care.

MacDonald?? Connected. Ghost's hotspot?? Connected. Some random printer with one bar?? Definitely connected.

He's just kinda dumb like that.

You set up a little class for him about malware just to remind him.

You've started restricting his phone time so he can only use it for 4 hours a day before it completely shuts off. Just to tease him. Until he goes to Price and tattles ☹️

Johnny just thinks it's cool as shit. He didn't know it was an actual job for you? Like that's dope!

He likes to find different computer kits for you. The type of guy to dig old computers from the garbage and unpack it to get to the mother board.

If he finds a chip in there or a hard drive obviously he's gonna ask you to open it so he can snoop.

Johnny thinks your talent is really cool. He thinks you're really cool. And when you sit down and play video games with him even without all the hackers skill he still has fun.

Occasionally you are surprised when Johnny pulls out a super smash bros move so insane no one would ever attempt it in their right mind and wins.

So you both surprise each other with your different skills. You teach Johnny about computers, he teaches you about science and big things that go boom.

It's a nice partnership. Johnny would give this relationship 5 whole stars!!

Gaz 🧢

It immediately interests him. He's no hacker by trade, he has as much skill in the concept as Johnny does. But it really does catch his attention.

Wanting to spend a lot of his time alone, sometimes he enjoys just sitting there and watching you click away on your computer.

You even teach him a few things. Sometimes he'll feel like pointing out a code he's unfamiliar with or something else you do, and you're always happy to teach him.

Gaz is much quieter than the others, so you decide to make up some better headphones for him when on base so he can get the full quiet atmosphere experience.

He really like the glowing keyboard you have. (You know the one) he really likes it.

He isn't one to use you as a cheat code but sometimes you just like to spoil him. He doesn't want to ask you for unnecessary help when you are helping Captain Price across the building.

"Bloody hell, where is that stupid passcode!?" He looks around the desk, scattering papers in a hurry. If he doesn't get in this computer he would definitely be caught.

"Having some trouble Gaz??"

"I'm fine. Where is Captain Price at??"

You hum. Suddenly the computer in front of him flickers onto a loading screen and freezes. Several lines of code flash over the screen.

"Don't worry, using the wireless connection you set up earlier..."

The computer flashed on, past the passcode screen. "All clear sergeant."

He can't help chuckling. "Thanks."

He's 100% in the know of where to find all the best books and will often scan your shelves to see if your missing a volume of anything or if there is a new book he could get you.

He tries to make stuff for you. Like little computer decorations. It's a hobby of his making little decals and stickers, so your computer is glamorized in all of Gaz's little gifts.

Gaz isn't as interested in your computer sciences as Johnny, but he's also the only one you'll find lounging in your office at 2 in the morning reading one of your coding books because he couldn't sleep.

You flick on the lights in your office, startled when you see someone sitting in your chair. You sigh in relief when you see it's on Gaz, passed out with your heavy textbook open on his chest.

"Aw, buddy." You come over and gently tip his hat down, pulling the book from his arms. You slip a bookmark in it and place it on your desk for later.

He's much too heavy to lift him, so you drape a throw blanket over him and turn the lights off. You can do your stuff later.

Gaz thinks you're really cool. He likes to hang out with you and learn more about you. And you like learning more about him.

You're the type of friends to lay on his bed for hours saying nothing but happy in each other's presence. You could be on your computer and he can be reading. But each other's presence is what makes the interaction special, even if you don't talk.

Gaz is glad you came to the team. Your a good asset and a good friend.

Price 🥃

Your skills were what attracted Price to you first. He wanted you on his team once he heard of your level of skill. It would be nice to have two techies at his disposal.

But he didn't expect how well you'd get along with his soldiers. You were a tight knit group almost immediately, he couldn't ask for it differently.

He admires how much you care for the others, and how you're willing to use your skills to do seemingly silly things for the boys.

You're very smart, and he loves when you info dump on him. He's old enough that most of the topics you bring up he is familiar with. Maybe not a genius but you get used to certain terms and trades when you've been serving as long as he has.

And you're always surprised when he has a little tidbit of information to add to the conversation.

Now don't get me wrong, Price is very technologically aware. He can set off a missile by the flick of his wrist and shut down enemy hardware within an inch of his skin. But he doesn't know what to do when Facebook crashes.

Whether he overthinks it or he's just kinda stupid, you'll never know.

You might just be the hacker but he's always asking your opinion things. "These are electric doors, what would be the best way to get them open without attracting attention??"

Always gets your opinion.

He is the dad who will get you everything you need to further your hobby/job in the task force.

He always gets you new books and cool looking hardware.

"Knock knock."

You close your laptop halfway and pull off your headphones. "Come in."

Price smiles when he comes in, seeing you all set up on your bed. "Hey kiddo."

"Hey captain, need something?"

Price sat down and looked at what you were working on. "is that the new game Johnny has been ranting about you making him??"

"Yeah, it's just a simple code like the Google dinosaur game, I don't know why he's so excited 😅"

"Well, maybe these will help?" He pulls up a bag full of a couple books you'd been talking about buying of they weren't almost 50$ each.

"Price??" You pulled out the books. "Oh thank you."

"Any time." He ruffles your hair.

Literally the most supportive dad.

Sorry but you are his child now. He has adopted you into his little found family.

Again, he really likes letting you talk to him about what you're doing when you're on your computer.

And you've saved his butt more than once with your quick skills.

"I've got the wires set up y/n, it's your turn."

"I'm on, give me two seconds."

"Good, we don't want them to get alerted, Johnny and Gaz are near the west hall."

"Aaaaalright..." You are quiet for a moment. "Ok, cameras are blocked, you're free to move around."

"Copy that sergeant."

Like I said, supportive and protective dad.

You've been amazing support for the team both as a teammate and a friend. Overall he's really glad that you're a part of the team. Very valued, very loved.

He's glad he met you.

[dark-elf-writes]

More @musicfeedsmysoul12 tags and more of Thoughts™️ that are eating my brain

Izumi makes it to class with barely a minute to spare with her second coffee (after she had chugged another two energy drinks just outside the store just to keep her eyes open) in hand. She knows Shiggy and Dabi do this on purpose. Knows that they love the idea of her going to her “perfect little hero school” still covered in their marks and barely able to keep her eyes open after they did their best to keep her up all night.

She blames that exhaustion for why she doesn’t hear the footsteps before a hand grabs her collar, yanking her so hard she fumbles her grip on the cup.

The scent of burnt caramel fills her nose. Spilled coffee seeps into her shoes. Shouting fills the room as her head is wrenched to the side to show her neck.

(There’s a hazy memory of heat and teeth. Of her clinging to blue gray hair and pleading for more, harder. Of being sure the skin had broken and the thrill that had shoved her over the edge into yet another orgasm at the thought.)

The skin hadn’t actually broken, but the mark had been dark and bold when she had slipped out of the bar in the early dawn hours in a stolen hoodie that smelled like cigarettes after her shirt had met an “unfortunate” end to Shigaraki’s frustration after losing some online match or another. Izumi had reluctantly put some concealer over the mark as she hurried to change and get as much caffeine into her system before school.

Makeup had never been her strength and today was no different it seemed.

Shouts and the scrape of chairs rang through the room from their stunned classmates as they scrambled for them, but everything seemed to move in slow motion as Bakugou snarled in her ear.

“What the fuck is that?”

Part of her, some small and shattered par that was still Deku wanted to scream. Wanted to crumble and beg for forgiveness. Wanted to lie and pretend and evade until the threat passed.

The larger part of her, the new part she had discovered full of ashes and smoke and lightning, demanded she fight back.

And for once, she listened.

It was easy to shove Bakugou back. Too easy she would realize later. The perfect amount of One for All needed to move him without hurting him. Unconscious control without breaking herself or someone else for the first time.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The room froze at her shout. Or maybe they had frozen at the snap of lightning around her. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t anything other than the rage in Bakugou’s red eyes.

“You’re fucking cheating on me!”

Izumi couldn’t help it. She knew it wouldn’t help, would only make the situation far worse, but she couldn’t have stopped it even if she could find some part of her that wanted to.

She laughed in Bakugou Katsuki’s face.

“Cheating?! We were never together!“

The room exploded with sound. Shouting from their classmates, the revving of engines as sweet Tenya prepared to break up the brewing fight, what might of been the shattering of glass, but all Izuku could hear were the explosions coming from Bakugou himself.

Her thigh ached so badly she thought it wouldn’t hold her weight.

It didn’t stop her from lunging to meet Bakugou’s attack with bared teeth.

All at once familiar strips of cloth wrapped around both of them and the cacophony of lightning and explosions died. Izumi threw herself against it. She wanted to fight. She wanted to shove his stupid fucking face into the tile of the classroom. She wanted to prove he couldn’t burn her and think that made her his.

“What?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice was deadly calm in the silent room. Everyone had gone quiet after Mr Aizawa had come in. Even Bakugou had gone quiet, a strip of capture weapon over his mouth and burning red eyes full of fury and alarm looking back at her.

Everyone had gone quiet except, it seemed, Izumi herself.

She had never been able to stop herself from talking. From screaming this time of the ache in her throat was anything to go by.

Everyone’s eyes were on her wide with shock and horror. Not on her face, but on her leg where the edge of the burn was just barely visible under the hem of her skirt.

Shit.

[notwiselybuttoowell]

Every week, Bastián Barria ventures into the Atacama desert in northern Chile looking for items of discarded clothing in the sand. About half of the hundreds of garments he finds are in perfect condition. He collects what he can and adds them to the two-tonne pile of clothes he has stored at a friend’s house.

On 17 March, 300 of those items, including Nike and Adidas shorts, Calvin Klein jeans and a leather skirt, were listed for sale online for the first time. The price? Zero. Customers had only to pay shipping costs. The first batch sold out in five hours, bought by customers from countries including Brazil, China, France, the US and the UK.

Re-commerce Atacama is part of a campaign to raise awareness of the mountains of discarded clothes in Chile and of textile waste globally. It was set up after a fashion show staged in the desert last year, where models walked a catwalk of sand wearing outfits made out of the surrounding waste.

“We want people to feel involved and be agents of change – not from a passive position of seeing content, but by purchasing something, showing people and telling our story of what is happening here in the desert,” says Barria, 32, a civil engineer and co-founder of Desierto Vestido (Dressed Desert), an organisation dedicated to raising awareness of textile waste.

“At first, there was a certain disbelief on my part to see this happening. I asked myself why garments in perfect condition were being discarded in the desert when there are many people who might like to wear them. It’s sad. It really makes you feel powerless.”

Chile has long been a destination for secondhand and unsold clothing, most of it made in China or Bangladesh and passing through Europe, Asia or the US before arriving in the country. In 2022, more than 131,000 tonnes of clothing arrived in the country, most of it in the city of Iquique in northern Chile, home to one of the most important duty-free ports in South America.

Some is resold, but sources in the region say up to 70% ends up in rubbish dumps in the desert every year; in Chile it is forbidden to dump textile waste in legal landfills because it generates soil instability. The desert is one of the country’s most popular tourism destinations, known for its otherworldly landscapes, but for those living near the dump sites it has become a place of devastation. Pictures of a mountain of clothes taken from space went viral in 2023. In recent years, people have resorted to burning the waste in an attempt to hide the extent of it. The resulting toxic clouds of smoke are an environmental and health concern for the surrounding communities.

Determined to do something about the crisis, Barria’s organisation teamed up with fashion activists Fashion Revolution Brazil, the Brazilian advertising agency Artplan and the e-commerce platform Vtex, to tell the world about the situation.

The Re-commerce Atacama operation involves a careful process of selecting and restoring the garments to ensure they are in good condition for resale. They are cleaned and made available for free, bar shipping costs, on the digital platform.

In advance of the first drop of clothes, influencers and personalities including Dudu Bertholini, a judge on Drag Race Brasil, posted about the campaign on social media. The next drop is expected in April. Anyone interested can add their email to be notified when more clothes become available.

Fernanda Simon, director of Fashion Revolution Brazil, sees the project as “an act of activism that reveals what is behind fashion and proves we can do things differently”.

She says: “More than removing clothes from the desert, we wanted to inspire solutions, rethink the fashion model and show that we must talk about circularity.”

About 92m tonnes of textile waste are created annually and every second, the equivalent of a lorry load of clothes ends up on a landfill site somewhere around the world.

This phenomenon is a consequence of an increase in clothing consumption and the fast-paced production model of the fashion industry, says Simon. “How we produce fashion is wrong,” she says. “We produce more and more and the velocity of production is getting faster and faster. There is no transparency about how these clothes are made.”

While 20 years ago, most labels would release four collections of clothes annually, she says, now with the rise of fast fashion and ultra-fast fashion, there can be as many as 52 collections a year.

Unsold inventory and unwanted secondhand clothes, most of which come from markets in the US, Europe and Asia, are dumped in countries in the global south. Another place where this problem is particularly visible is Accra, Ghana’s capital, where tangled webs of clothes line the shore.

Simon labels this practice “racist and colonialist”. Most of the raw materials required to make clothes come from countries in the global south, she says. European countries and the US are the biggest consumers, and when they don’t want the clothes, they end up back in countries in the global south.

“It’s a massive problem. It’s not just Chile, it’s not just Ghana. It’s a global problem. We are facing this waste and it is proof that we need to rethink the fashion system.”

[l-crimson-l]

Ok so incoming gunpla post about tools:

So you’ve started building! It’s fun! It’s cathartic! And they look so cool!

But…

You kinda want them to look Even Cooler.

You also don’t have a ton of cash and you’re feeling intimidated by how deep this hobby can take you (you’ve seen those cool customs online). No worries! Here’s a couple cheapish (<$40) tools to help you get rolling on taking your kits to the next level.

1) Sanding Sponge/Glass File

These are great bc 1) they’re cheap and 2) do the job wonderfully. Specifically they’re for helping to remove Nub marks off the price you’ve cut from the runner. If you don’t know, Nubs are the leftover plastic still attached to the piece after you’ve clipped it from the runner, they’re important to remove bc of how the kit is engineered. Moving gimmicks or the sturdiness of the kit could be compromised if your pieces can’t fit flush.

The sponge is the cheapest option but it also runs out at some point and you’ll need to replace them. However, the glass file will simply just keep rolling. I bought mine from Newtype about a year and a half ago and it’s still doing great. I believe Walmart might have even cheaper options.

2) Gundam Marker

So you know those grooves on a part that’s sunken in? Those are called Panel Lines! Using this pen (it’s basically a Micron pen) you can color in these lines to help give your kit extra depth. This is especially great on kits that are primarily a single color with few variations (think Calibarn).

All you do is draw in your line and then wipe away with your finger or paper towel or what have you. These are super cheap and you’ll run through half a dozen or so HG’s or even MG’s before you need to think about getting a new one. With this you also don’t need to worry about top coating or being mindful about what you’re applying it over (unlike other panel liners where you need to keep some chemistry in mind).

3) Single Blade Nippers

So these are the most expensive item and while double blade nippers work absolutely, you’ll end up creating less work for yourself with single blade nippers as they can make cleaner cuts off the runner meaning you have less nub to clean up.

These ones I snagged from USA Gundam Store (they give a discount for snagging these) and they work great. Not the greatest durability over multiple kits as they really lose that initial sharpness over the first kit or two, but they stay sharp enough to do the job well. There’s several different options out there (some as expensive as $60 or so) but starting out a cheaper pair is great to have.

I used double sided nippers for the longest time but after switching I firmly believe they’re worth the extra $$ to invest in.

To elaborate on 2 bladed vs single bladed a bit: double blades cut from both sides (obviously) but what this means is that there is stress being applied to the piece from each side. This causes stress marks (if you’ve seen a white spot left behind after a clip that’s a stress mark) which either need cleaned up and painted over or it causes a crater in the part (especially easy to do when the nub is especially large) which either never gets fixed or you need to use tamiya cement to melt plastic and then puddy it innnnn and thennnnn sand everything againnnnn and it’s a pain.

Save yourself the headache. Singe blade nippers are the way. I especially hate those beginner nippers that look like this

I hope this helps you dig a little further down into the plastic crack rabbit hole! With just a little extra effort you can really make your kits pop. You can do it!

As always I really love seeing all the new people building gunpla and making it their own (special shout out to that person who bedazzled their guncannon). Love ya friendos

[blueiscoool]

Sword with Markings of Ancient Pharaoh Ramses II Unearthed in Egypt

Archaeologists unearthed a series of mudbrick rooms filled with religious tributes, soldiers’ personal effects, engraved weaponry and animal bones.

Researchers have discovered a 3,200-year-old Egyptian fort filled with archaeological treasures. Located at the Tell Al-Abqain excavation site in northwest Egypt, the buried structure contained religious tributes, military barracks and a bronze sword inscribed with the name of the pharaoh Ramses II.

The fort was unearthed during ongoing excavations at Tell Al-Abqain. A team led by Ahmed El Kharadly, an archaeologist with Egypt’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, found a series of mudbrick architectural units in the area, according to a statement from the ministry.

Those buildings, or barracks, contained a trove of artifacts, including the necessities and personal effects of the soldiers stationed there during Egypt’s New Kingdom era, a period of prosperity, territorial expansion and peace that lasted from around 1550 to 1077 B.C.E. The barracks show the military power Egypt expended to grow and defend its territory during this time.

“It is an important discovery highlighting the strategic role of Tell Al-Abqain area as a crucial military outpost on the western military road, protecting Egypt’s northwestern borders from potential invasions by Libyan tribes and sea peoples,” Mohamed Ismail Khaled, secretary-general of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, tells Ahram Online’s Nevine El-Aref.

The barracks’ advanced architectural layout exemplifies the engineering talents of the ancient Egyptian builders, who skillfully harnessed the existing landscape for military objectives, Khaled adds.

At the site, researchers also found granaries, cow burials and pottery containing fish bones. In ancient Egypt, cows were “revered as celestial deities” and symbols of “strength, abundance and prosperity,” per the statement. However, these specific burials indicate that soldiers likely ate the cows: The bovine remains were found in an area near an oven, “which confirms that they were probably divided into parts and then stored in silos after drying,” El Kharadly tells Live Science’s Owen Jarus.

Along with evidence of soldiers’ daily provisions, researchers found accessories and toiletries, like ivory applicators for kohl eyeliner, necklaces of carnelian and faience beads shaped like pomegranate blossoms, and scarabs engraved with deities’ names, per the statement. The archaeologists also found two limestone blocks, one inscribed with the name of an official, “Bay,” and the other mentioning Ramses.

The pharaoh Ramses II, or Ramses the Great, ruled Egypt from 1279 to 1213 B.C.E., as the third king of the 19th Dynasty. Nicknamed the “builder pharaoh,” Ramses commissioned many temples during his reign, ensuring a lasting legacy. The newly discovered barracks also illustrate his sprawling influence.

One of the most intriguing discoveries was a bronze sword engraved with the cartouche of Ramses, or hieroglyphs arranged in an oval representing his name. Its presence suggests the fort was an important site during the pharaoh’s reign, per Ahram Online.

The barracks are an “important discovery” illuminating Egypt’s military strategy during Ramses’ rule, as Peter Brand, a historian at the University of Memphis who wasn’t involved in the excavation, tells Live Science.

“The weaponry demonstrates the place was well armed and may even have been able to produce some weapons on site,” Brand adds. The bronze sword was “likely given to a high-ranking officer as a royal reward. … The king’s name and titles engraved on it increased the prestige of its owner and ‘advertised’ the [king’s] wealth, power and generosity.”

By Sonja Anderson.