#Revit Prices

[revittx]

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[gabrielcrossleyart]

Learning Emmrich's face! Did a little sketch page to try and get a feel for things!

[bluecookiesabi]

Who needs sleep when you can bitch to your friends and brother and about the STUPID ASS decisions your city government has made

[beloveds-embrace]

dukedom!AU but they realize she’s quickly become a type of ‘peoples princess’ outside the duchy

The timeline for this one is before reader tells john her request! I got this ask before part two dropped and already had some of it written. Hope you enjoy, anon! <3

Dukedome au masterlist

I can imagine them realizing it not from seeing it, but from hearing it, maybe during a gala hosted by John and uou. The evening is alive with music and laughter, the grand ballroom brimming with nobles and dignitaries. Yet the chatter revolve around one figure: you.

“She’s truly remarkable, isn’t she?” one elderly countess says, her voice carrying across the marble floors and gleaming ceilings. “Always so graceful, so kind. I am quite glad she is Duchess Price, now.”

John stands near the refreshments table with Simon, and overhears the conversation. His hand tightens slightly around his glass, though his face betrays nothing. Nothing new to be talked about, it was natural. And yet-

“Graceful?” a younger lady chimes in, voice calm and polite. “She’s more than that. Did you hear she personally visited the orphanage last week? Brought food and clothing, spoke to every child. And not for show- she refused to let any journalists near. That’s a true duchess.”

Simon’s brows furrows slightly, his jaw tightening. He exchanges a glance with John, the unspoken thought between them clear: she hadn’t told either of them about that visit. It wasn’t because John didn’t trust you, or that you need his permission; he just wanted to be aware of where you go and which guards you’ll take. For your own safety.

“She’s so approachable too,” a lord adds, gesturing with his wine glass. John knows this lord, he always ends up drinking too much and being too handsy. Why would you need to speak to him? “I spoke to her briefly earlier- she didn’t just listen, she cared. You can see it in her eyes. It’s no wonder the people adore her.”

Adore is putting it way too lightly.

From the other side of the room, Kyle watches as a small group of maids gossip near the staircase. He wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but their excitement is hard to ignore.

“I heard she gave her own jewelry to the head maid’s daughter to help her pay for her dowry.” One of them whispers, clutching her tray.

“That’s not all,” another group are speaking, talking about her as well. “The market vendors say she always pays more than is needed, even when they insist she doesn’t do. Such a lovely woman.”

“Wish the other nobles were like her,” the first maid says with a wistful sigh. “She’s the only one who treats us like people.”

Kyle’s lips press into a thin line as he adjusts his gloves. He prides himself on protecting you, but hearing how far your kindness extends fills him with a quiet sense of urgency. What if someone takes advantage of you and your tender heart?

It’s not just in the main hall that these words are said; down in the kitchens, Johnny is busy ensuring there’s enough food with the rest of the chefs. But still, he can hear two others talking while they work, trying not to sound too snappy or angry while he listens in on them.

As the night continues, the men find themselves more and more aware of how often your name arises in conversation. They hear nobles discussing your fashion choices (Simon secretly preens), others whispering about your visits to the poorer parts of town and the funds that have been allocated into revitalizing the areas, and even rival duchesses grudgingly admitting that you’ve set quite the high standard.

“I heard she stopped Lord Clinton from evicting his tenants,” one man says near the dance floor, though not quite close enough to be drawn into the dancing bodies. He is within John and Simon’s earshots.

“Not only that,” someone else “whispers”. “She made sure they had food and shelter through the winter. commoners love her, and she truly embodies what it means to be a noble. A true people’s princess, I say.”

John’s gaze flickers toward you, standing across the room and laughing softly with a group of nobles. You’re glowing tonight, the light catching in your hair and your smile as warm as ever, adorned in a beautiful dress.

“They don’t deserve her,” Kyle mutters, sidling up to him while holding a plate of finger foods.

John doesn’t respond, but his grip on his glass tightens again. It’s a wonder the glass hasn’t broken et.

Simon’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “The people see her as theirs.” He pauses, his gaze hardening. “But she’s ours first.”

“I cannot blame them.” John sighs. “She is the perfect duchess. But she is also my duchess, and they seem to have forgotten that.”

John means his words, and he knows his men agree with him. The world may love you, but they know the truth: no one else can have you- not the people, not the nobles, no one but them.

The ballroom continues to buzz with conversation, and John focuses back on the two men near the edge of the dance floor.

“She’s wasted on a duchy,” one of them says, swirling his wine with a smirk, more than just a little drunk. “With her charm, she could outshine the Queen herself.”

“Not just charm,” the other adds in, just as drunk. “But Influence.”

Simon stiffens, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Influence” isn’t something he takes lightly when it comes to you. It’s a dangerous thing in the wrong hands- or with the wrong admirers.

“Careful,” John mutters to him. “They’re complimenting her, not threatening her.”

Simon’s glare softens ever so slightly. “Yet.”

Johnny slowly makes his way towards a hidden corner of the ballroom, gnawing on his lips as he listens to the whispers of you.

Did you see the way she stopped to speak with the gardeners?” one of them asks. “She even complimented the hedges I trimmed last week!”

Johnny’s grin fades, his fingers drumming against his thigh. He enjoys seeing people appreciate you, but this feels different. They speak of you with reverence, as if you’re some untouchable figure. But Johnny knows better. You’re no untouchable goddess- you’re his. Theirs. That’s what matters most.

It’s when you step onto the dance floor that the tension truly rises. A duke- one who’s been eyeing you all evening- approaches you with a bow, extending his hand for a dance. You hesitate, glancing toward John out of instinct. He doesn’t move, but his eyes darken, his jaw clenched as he watches you take the duke’s hand.

The music swells and you move across the floor, laughter bubbles from your lips at something your dance partner says. The men see it for what it is: polite, nothing more. But it doesn’t stop the knot of irritation tightening even further.

“She’s a vision,” someone murmurs nearby, unaware they’re being overheard.

“Who wouldn’t fall for her?” another replies.

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.

Kyle’s gaze sharpens. Johnny’s grin vanishes completely. Simon’s fists clench at his sides. And John, ever composed, finishes his wine in one long swallow, his eyes never leaving you.

He can’t allow this to go on for any longer.

The dance ends, and as you return to the edge of the ballroom, you’re immediately surrounded by more admirers- ladies complimenting your gown, lords vying for your attention. Or would have been, if John hadn’t started making his way towards you, presence larger than life.

“Your Grace,” he says smoothly, and extends his hand to you, his expression unreadable. “Dance with me.”

The request- or rather, the command- is met with stunned silence. The nobles exchange glances, but a single glance from John keeps them all silent.

You blink up at him, momentarily caught off guard, before placing your hand in his. “Of course.” you murmur softly.

John’s grip is firm but gentle as he leads you to the dance floor, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. The orchestra begins a soft waltz, and he pulls you into the first step, his movements confident and assured.

Around you, the crowd watches, whispers starting anew, though you barely notice. All you can focus on is the intensity in John’s eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’ve been busy tonight.” he says after a moment, his voice low enough that only you can hear. It sends a shiver up your spine- his voice always so nice to hear.

“It’s my role,” you reply, offering him a small smile. “Everyone has been so kind.”

He hums, his eyes flicking briefly to the onlookers before returning to you. “Too kind, perhaps.”

You raise an eyebrow at his tone but say nothing, letting him guide you across the floor. His hand tightens slightly at your waist, and he pulls you even more closer.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says after a moment, his voice softer now. “Better than I expected, if I’m honest. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. You always seem to surprise me, my dear.”

Your cheeks warm at the unexpected praise, and you smile up at him. “Thank you, John. That means a great deal.”

He leans in just slightly, his breath ghosting over your ear. “The way they look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower. “They can’t take their eyes off you. And I don’t blame them.”

You glance up at him, startled, but his expression is unreadable once again. He continues to lead you effortlessly through the dance, his movements precise.

“But,” he continues, his gaze locking onto yours, “they’ll have to remember who you belong to.”

Your heart skips at his words, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His eyes soften, his grip steady as he twirls you into the final steps of the dance.

As the music fades, he leans in again, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re exquisite tonight, wife. Don’t let them forget it.”

With that, he leads you off the dance floor, his hand never leaving yours. The crowd parts for the both of you, their gazes following you both as John guides you back to the edge of the room, where the others wait.

You’re still breathless, his words replaying in your mind as he steps aside, positioning himself at your shoulder. Whatever protests the nobles might’ve had about your absence dissolve under his watchful glare.

And though John doesn’t say another word for the rest of the evening, his presence alone is enough to ensure no one dares to crowd you again, and no one comes between you and them. Simon and Kyle keep you busy, chatting happily with them, and Johnny joins later when the guests begin to trickle out and no one would question why a chef is there.

People’s princess you maybe, you are still theirs. John simply had to show and remind everyone of that fact.

[charliemwrites]

Mafia au with Price perspective

Content: Implied Violence

John, for the life of him, can’t believe he ever ran SpecGru without you.

It’s a hit to his pride to admit it, certainly. That an outsider has discovered a small conspiracy within his own organization less than three months into employment. That, apart from even that, he’s never been less scattered, having someone right by his side remembering details, appointments, bits of information.

Morning smells like Earl Grey and your perfume now. Steam mixing with whatever you’ve spritzed for the day, his own little aroma therapy. Revitalizing after however late the previous night dragged him out.

In general, you’re like a breath of fresh air. A smiley little charm of color and delicacy in his world of saturated shadows, blood and brutality.

Clean-cut dresses with patterned tights, soft-knit scarves. Lace accents and modest stilettos. Thin, sparkly jewelry and smart makeup. The scent of you drowns out the lingering burn of gunpowder; or maybe just transforms it into something heady.

John lingers on your hair. Smooth ponytails, tight coifs, intricate braids. Likes when it’s loose enough to brush you shoulders and neck, a little bounce to it as you toddle in and out of his office.

You’re gorgeous, he knows it like a gun in his hand or the stench of fear in the air. Has encountered (and indulged) in more than his share of stunning women. Women with beautiful smiles, and bright laughter, and sweet voices. Cunning women, too. Women who could outfox all but his best on any given day.

You have all of that in spades, though you’re not the first.

The difference, he thinks, is your sincerity. You’re never anything but honest with him. Even when you maybe shouldn’t be. Not that you share your opinion every time you have one, but if he asks for it, you’ll answer without pulling punches.

Respectful, always. Polite. But scalpels are elegant tools as dangerous as any dagger. You’re not cold by any means, but you’re made of steel. Precise and implacable in some ways. Have never hesitated too look him in the eye and cheerfully explain why he’s wrong.

That, he knows, is a rare commodity.

“I understand this is time sensitive Mister Graves, but raising your voice is not going to open Mister Price’s schedule.”

Your voice goes silky when you get like this. A finely draped, overly pleasant “no” in each word. A wall is still a wall no matter how finely it’s painted.

You’ve just gotten your nails done again, glossy wine red tap-tap-tapping over your customized keyboard. Whatever Philip is saying on the other end does not seem to be impressing you. Soap and Gaz are trying not to snicker. You shoot them an amused look.

“Well, he’s booked every morning for the next two weeks,” you continue.

John is not, in fact, booked every morning for the next two weeks. There are two mornings with two hours open and you’re serenely looking at them on your computer screen. He doesn’t correct you, interested to see how this plays out. You know he hates Philip and are gleefully taking advantage of that fact.

“Well, Mister Graves, a lot of people have time sensitive issues to bring to Mister Price,” you explain, a touch condescending now. “I’m afraid I can’t reschedule them just because you have… a trip to Glasgow, is it?”

You don’t sound impressed. Neither is John. You clear your throat, arch your eyebrows at him. Put up three fingers. He nods.

“I can schedule you in on the 3rd in the evening. Your assistant said you’ll be back by then.”

You blink, an almost smug curve to your lips at whatever is said. A pleasant shiver runs down John’s spine. Philip will just have gotten in then - a full day of travel after whatever business he’s been up to will put him at a disadvantage.

“Well, I’m afraid Mister Price’s next availability won’t be until the… 8th. So shall we schedule something for the 3rd? I can always call if he has a cancellation.”

A pause. Your eyes narrow into a mean little smile at nothing in particular. Practically glowing with satisfaction. Without your attention on him, he shifts a bit.

“Of course, Mister Graves,” you hum. “I can forward your people the details. Have a lovely day now.”

Soap and Gaz start laughing the moment you hand up. You huff at them in amusement, shaking your head, then turn to John.

“Was there anything you needed, sir?” You ask, syrupy sweet.

John snorts and finally approaches your desk, leaning his hip against the edge as he crosses his arms. You tilt your head to give him your full attention, a stray curl falling against your jaw.

“Since you seem to be on rampage,” he says, “I need you to get a reservation for Friday at Muse.”

You blink at him. “Muse? Sir, that’s… don’t they book that place out months in advance?”

He smirks. “Just use my name, luv. I’m sure you’ll have the rest under control.”

You don’t look convinced, but you slide your sticky pad over - light purple clouds, now. With a pink glitter pen.

“How many and what time, sir?”

“Six for eight o’clock.”

You hum as you scrawl it down, pretty round letters that shimmer under the office lights.

“Before you go,” you say as you set the sticky pad aside. “I have those inventory logs from the docks - as well as the incident report from security that evening.”

You pluck up a neat stack of papers, held together by a star-shaped paperclip. Already he can see pink highlighter on the first page, a little memo-note summarizing information for quick review at the top. Somewhere within, you’ve attached a pink tab to something.

“I’ve highlighted anything in the original shipment that wasn’t found in the inventory log,” you explain, tapping at one of them.

He hums, skims the summary, then starts rifling through the papers. Will never admit how much he appreciates the thoroughness, even if he’s comb through every detail himself just to be sure nothing has been missed.

“Oh, also,” you add, spinning the glitter pen between clever fingers, “I think we should maybe set up a camera near that back entrance to the warehouse.”

He pauses. The back entrance where they do the more gruesome aspects of “business.” Odd that you would suggest that.

“Why’s that?”

You hum. “Well, I’m no narc, but I heard from someone who works over there that one of the shipping guys smokes weed with his cousin in that area. Maybe someone saw them and realized that’s a good way in.”

You shrug, leaning back in your seat again. The computer dings, calling your attention. John shoots Soap a glance, who nods and quietly steps out. You don’t seem to notice, clicking your tongue at whatever you see.

“Nicely done, luv,” he says, voice warm in his chest. You beam at him, pleased as always when he recognizes your hard work. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply.

Twenty minutes later, you tap lightly at the open door to his office.

“Got the reservation!” You announce, a funny little smile on your face. “They were so nice about it too. What are you, some kind of mafia boss?”

He chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

How did he ever manage all this without you?

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[3amfanfiction]

Now I’m thinking about you and ghost, together for a year, when he introduces you to his captain.

Ghost is obsessed with you—you’re perfect and can do no wrong and at first he’s over the moon when his captain shows interest in you. Two of his favorite people getting along? Win.

But Price isn’t nice, he’s always managed to crush anything he gets within his grasp, fingers squeezing too tight, no regard for the damage his toys receive.

So he starts to squeeze, and it hurts, and you turn to Simon for help. At first he tries to mitigate things, she’s not feeling up to hanging out tonight cap, come sit by me love, you should be nicer to her. But as all things do, it only escalated from there.

And Simon has to watch his captain, the man who makes sure he and his team come out of things alive, the man who always sees a straight path forward, the man who has Simon’s back . . . consume the person who makes Simon feel like he has a home to come back to, who tells him it’s okay to cry, who revitalizes him with food, love and care.

And Simon knows it’s not malicious on Price’s part, his grasp has always been the fingers he can claw into his prize, the desire to own in an uncertain world.

But how can he explain that in a way this sweet thing will understand?

So he has to stand back and watch as his captain leaves you bleeding and bruised, your eyes coming to him for help and he has to decide if he lets his captain continue playing with the person healing his soul . . . or step in and lose his team.

[slugghee]

"I am Firas Muhaisen from Gaza. My sister and I went to Egypt before the war to study medicine. We had a source of income to be able to cover university fees, but with the war, my father lost his only source of income, which was a construction factory... My family is now living on what is left of their money and they are unable to meet their needs due to the high prices in northern Gaza. On our first vacation, we were supposed to visit my family in Gaza, but with the war, we could not. We hope for help to complete our education, move our families out, and strive for a life in which there is little security and human rights."

Hello everyone! Firas (@firasmuhaisenn) and Nisreen are first-year medical students currently completing their education in Egypt. They are separated from their family (which includes three adults and three children), who are trapped in Gaza and Israel’s ongoing genocide. Their family has lost all income, so Firas and Nisreen are responsible for sending them money to keep them alive. They not only need money to support and evacuate their family, but to pay their university fees. Their campaign has been going extremely slowly, despite several supportive posts about them. Firas has been trying to raise money since April, but as of 9/7/24, he has only received $8,364 out of his goal of $82,000 CAD. (1 CAD ≈ 0.74 USD and 0.66 Euros)

DONAT1ONS HAVE ALL BUT STAGNATED!!!! Firas has only received ONE DONATI0N IN THE PAST FIVE DAYS!!!!!

Firas's campaign is verified by @/90-ghost here. I've also been chatting with Firas, and others here on tumblr know him.

Please help Firas out, he is losing hope! You all responded well to my post about Youssef, helping to revitalize his campaign. We can do the same for Firas! Let's do what we can to take some of the burden off of his shoulders! Don@te if you can, reblog regardless if you can or can't, and spread the word to your friends and family outside of this app. Everything you can give is valuable, no matter how small.

[blogport]

EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (3)

Epoxy floor coating is not just a practical choice for enhancing the durability of your flooring; it's also a stylish solution that can transform any space. Whether you're a homeowner looking to revamp your garage or a business owner seeking reliable commercial flooring solutions, understanding the benefits of epoxy will help you make informed decisions. As you search for "floor polishing near me," consider how an expertly applied epoxy coating can elevate your interiors while providing a long-lasting finish. 

Epoxy Floor Coating

Epoxy floor coating is a highly durable and resilient flooring solution that has gained popularity in both residential and commercial spaces. This type of coating is made from a combination of resin and hardener, creating a strong bond when applied to existing concrete surfaces. The result is a seamless surface that can withstand heavy foot traffic, chemicals, and abrasions.

One of the major benefits of epoxy floor coating is its versatility. It can be customized in various colors and finishes, including high-gloss and matte textures. This means that property owners can choose a look that complements their interior design while still providing the durability they require. Additionally, the smooth finish of epoxy makes it easy to clean and maintain, which is particularly advantageous in commercial settings.

Furthermore, the installation process for epoxy floor coating is relatively quick, often completed within a few days. However, it’s essential to hire professionals who have the expertise and equipment to ensure a flawless application. The right team will properly prepare the surface, allowing for optimal adhesion and longevity of the coating.

Floor Polishing Near Me

When searching for floor polishing near me, it's essential to find a service that not only meets your expectations but also understands the unique needs of your flooring. Professional floor polishing can revitalize old surfaces, restoring their shine and luster while protecting them from future wear and tear.

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Commercial flooring solutions are essential for businesses seeking to enhance their aesthetic appeal while also ensuring durability and functionality. The choice of flooring can greatly influence the overall atmosphere of a commercial space, leading to improved employee morale and customer satisfaction.

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Metallic Epoxy Floor

A metallic epoxy floor offers a stunning visual appeal that enhances the aesthetic of any space. The reflective properties of the metallic pigments create a unique look, resulting in a three-dimensional effect that can mimic a variety of surfaces, such as water, marble, or even molten metal. This type of flooring is especially popular in modern homes, showrooms, and commercial spaces, providing an eye-catching yet durable surface.

One of the significant advantages of a metallic epoxy floor is its durability. This flooring solution is resistant to stains, chemicals, and impacts, making it ideal for high-traffic areas. Additionally, it is easy to clean and maintain, which means that business owners and homeowners can save time and resources. The seamless nature of epoxy flooring also contributes to a hygienic environment, especially in spaces like hospitals or laboratories.

Installing a metallic epoxy floor can be a customized process, allowing property owners to choose their preferred colors and patterns. Whether you’re looking for a sleek, industrial look or a vibrant, artistic finish, this flooring solution can be tailored to meet your unique vision. By consulting with professionals, you can ensure that your metallic epoxy floor is installed correctly and maximizes its longevity and beauty.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Joan McCarter at Daily Kos:

President Joe Biden isn’t accepting the idea that he’s a lame duck president. He continues to build on his already impressive record with actions and ideas to help the American people. He’s also setting up Kamala Harris for potential presidential success, which could end up being the most profound part of his legacy. The most recent incredible success from Biden and his team is securing the release of two Americans detained in Russia, Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich and Paul Whelan, a corporate security executive from Michigan. Alsu Kurmasheva, a journalist working for Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, and Vladimir Kara-Murza, a Washington Post opinions contributor, are also being released as part of the deal. Gershkovich and Whelan had been convicted of bogus espionage charges by Russian dictator Vladimir Putin’s regime. Bringing them home was a promise Biden made in his Oval Office speech explaining his decision to end his reelection campaign.

[...]

At home, Biden is committed to seeing through his student loan debt relief plans. The administration sent out emails to borrowers Wednesday, letting them know that some—or in some cases, all—of their debt will be canceled this fall when his executive order is fully implemented, and explaining how they can benefit. That’s relief for about 30 million borrowers, according to the White House. “Despite attempts led by Republican elected officials to block our efforts, we won’t stop fighting to provide relief to student loan borrowers, fix the broken student loan system, and help borrowers get out from under the burden of student debt,” Biden said. 

Biden also developed a sweeping plan for combatting housing costs and out-of-control rent inflation. It’s an ambitious proposal, giving corporate landlords a choice: “either cap rent increases on existing units at 5% or risk losing current valuable federal tax breaks.” That last part would take Congress’s help. The action he can, and is, taking on his own is ordering agencies to inventory federal lands that can be repurposed “to build tens of thousands of affordable homes.”  Biden’s Department of Housing and Urban Development just announced $325 million in Choice Neighborhoods grants, which will be used to “build over 6,500 units of new housing, support small businesses, build childcare centers and new parks, and will be used to leverage more than $2.65 billion in additional public and private investments in these neighborhoods.” Choice Neighborhoods is a HUD initiative to revitalize struggling neighborhoods into mixed-income housing.  In another family-friendly action, Biden is fighting to keep airlines from price-gouging families. He’s proposing a ban on the extra fees airlines charge parents to sit with their children.

[...] Biden is also looking to future-proof against the potential dangers of AI technology with an order directing every federal agency and department that could be affected to create standards and regulations overseeing AI—that’s everything from health care to housing to national security. [...] The Biden administration is also galvanized to step up the fight against fentanyl, with Biden on Wednesday directing all related federal agencies to coordinate actions to stop the flow of the drug.

President Joe Biden is still fighting for Americans, even after he passed the torch to Kamala Harris. #JoeBiden

[fatehbaz]

They’ve built a “Great Wheel” on the Seattle waterfront [...].

The small timber village became a military outpost in the Puget Sound War [...], [and] soon evolved into a trade gateway, with timber tailings and other industrial trash from Henry Yesler’s mill used to fill in the marshlands [...], atop which migrant laborers raised tents and shanties [...] now working to feed raw materials into the furnaces of the Second Industrial Revolution burning in the East. [...] The first nationwide strike ripped across the country’s railways in 1877, but in Seattle the unrest took on a grim character, as thousands of unemployed white workers rioted against their Chinese counterparts [...]. Meanwhile, [...] local elites rebuilt [...] downtown [...] from scratch, hosting the tallest building on the West Coast alongside other new constructs [fueled] with money gleaned from the supply chains linking eastern capital to Alaskan gold. [...] Today the city - again rebuilt [...] - is seen as one of the primary beneficiaries of the “Fifth” Industrial Revolution in information technology, outshone only by California’s Silicon Valley. [...] The digital was increasingly thought of as somehow "immaterial," sustained by intellectual labor more than physical toil [...].

Silicon Valley myths of [...] "immaterial" labor disguise a more gruesome dynamic in which growing segments of the global labor force are being deprived even of the basic brutality of the wage, instead forced out into growing rings of slums, prisons, and global wastelands. [...]

---

Perched alongside a downtown business corridor [...], Seattle's Great Wheel seems to peer out over [...] [the] prophesied “cooperative commons,” an infotech metropolis abutting the beauty of an evergreen arcadia. But travel below Seattle’s cluster of infotech industries and the image appears much the same as that of a hundred years prior - a trade gateway, squeezing value from supply chains by selling transport and logistical support. The southern stretch of the metropolis bears little resemblance to the revitalized urban core of the city proper. Instead of the “cognitive labor” of Microsoft, it is defined instead by the cold calculation of companies like UPS, founded in Seattle when the city was one link in a colonial supply chain built first for timber, then Alaskan gold, then World War. [...]

In south Seattle, this logistics empire takes the form of faceless warehouses, food processing facilities, container trucks, rail yards, and industrial parks concentrated between two seaports, an international airport, three major interstates, and railroads traveling in all directions. Meanwhile, the poor have been priced out of the old inner city, moving southward [...]. [T]hey can be found staffing the airport and the rail yards, hauling cargo in and out of two the major seaports, loading boxes in warehouses [...]. And, beyond them, the shadow stretches out to Washington’s rural hinterlands where migrant laborers staff a new boom in agriculture and raw materials [...] - and further still into America’s long-depressed interior, where the Great Wheel meets its opposite: Memphis, the FedEx logistics city, watched over by a great black pyramid [the infamous Bass Pro Shop pyramid]. [...]

Every Seattle is capable of creating an eco-friendly, “cooperative commonwealth” tended by apps and algorithms only insofar as there is a Memphis that can provide human workers to sort the packages, a Shanghai to build the containers that carry them, and a Shenzhen to solder together the circuits of the machines that govern it all.

---

All text above by: Phil A. Neel. "The Great Wheel". Brooklyn Rail. April 2015. Published online at: brooklynrail.org/2015/04/field-notes/the-great-wheel. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Text within brackets added by me for clarity. Presented here for commentary, teaching, personal use, criticism purposes.]

[deadmotelsusa]

Been following for a while (even bought the pins; love ‘em!) and just wanted share a dead motel that I’d stumbled across recently. It appears to have closed sometime during the pandemic. Doubt that it gets resurrected, given the price of real estate in the area.

https://maps.app.goo.gl/e59tzRhc2LBGSKcW9?g_st=ic

The Stratford Motor Lodge of Falls Church, Virginia closed in 2021. There have been multiple proposed development plans, including a senior living center or Wawa convenience store, but they all fell through. In September 2023, another application was filed with plans to revitalize a portion of the building into a restaurant.

[reasonsforhope]

"During the global coronavirus pandemic, China built dozens of makeshift hospitals and state quarantine centers, some out of steel container boxes. They became closely associated with the anxiety of mass testing and the fear of sudden lockdowns.

Now, cities are turning the huge centers into affordable housing units for young workers in an attempt to revive the country's economy post-COVID...

Just over a year ago, these apartments were used very differently: for medical triage and quarantine facilities. Beijing alone built 23 of these makeshift facilities, designed to hold up to 23,000 people at a time.

"It was not very cold yet but they told me to pack my belongings," remembers Hudson Li, a Beijing resident who was quarantined in one of these facilities, called fangcang in Chinese, in October 2022...

Less than two months after Li was quarantined, Beijing lifted most of its COVID restrictions. Li says he still associates the fangcang with a feeling of helplessness and fear: "It has been over a year already, but I definitely have PTSD from the pandemic, from the fear of scarcity and having to stock up on a lot of medicine and food."

Attracting young tenants with low rents

Now the fangcang across the country are undergoing a minor transformation and turned into apartment units for young graduates like Li. The changes are an effort from local authorities, who have been tasked with restarting economic growth and supporting small businesses after nearly three years of ruinous lockdowns.

Populous cities like Beijing are also trying to bridge the housing affordability gap between high real estate prices and low salaries, on average, for young workers. In the northeast corner of the capital city, near its airport, one fangcang with more than 4,900 units has been rebranded the "Jinzhan Colorful Community" — a reference to the bright hues of paint — and now offers amenities like a canteen where residents can grab a cheap meal before or after work.

Another fangcang facility, in the northeastern city of Jinan, has been turned into 650 units for skilled workers inside an industrial park.

"Given that the current overall [COVID] epidemic situation in the country has entered a low level, revitalizing the fangcang for other housing purposes is worth learning and thinking about all over the country," Yan Yuejin, a housing analyst, told Chinese media.

The fangcang, once a symbol of containment, are now supposed to represent dynamism and growth.

"I have complex feelings about this. The facilities were built using public funds and not rented out transparently," Li says. "But I do have to say you will not get anything more affordable than these apartments. They are very price competitive."

A list of rental prices for a Beijing fangcang converted into apartments shows most rooms are Rmb1200 (USD $170) a month, low for Beijing."

-via NPR, December 9, 2023

[aptericia]

I commissioned @sazuka57 for these WONDERFUL pixel sprites of Shang Bu-Huan and Lin Xue-Ya from Thunderbolt Fantasy in the style of the Octopath Traveler series!

A while back, I had created information for them as if they were NPCs in OT2 (season 3 of tbf introduces interdimensional travel, after all!), and I was considering posting them when I decided I really wanted some visuals too. Sazuka did a spectacular job with them (their poses?? all the details on their incredibly complicated outfits?? aaaaah) and was super friendly and easy to work with!

Info below the cut:

Traveling Swordsman (Shang Bu-Huan)

Strength: 10

Skills: Formless Rogue Sword (1-3 highly powerful sword attacks on all foes), Qi Punch (strong physical attack, chance to lower opponent’s physical defense), Qi Healing (restore a small amount of HP to a single ally and remove their status ailments), Attack (Sword)

Information:

Age: 46 Details: After making one too many enemies in his home country, he fled with the intent to rid himself of his burdens. Unfortunately for him, he has so far only managed to acquire even more burdens, such as the enigmatic young man who followed him to Solista. Information Gleaned: None

Items:

Formless Sword (Sword; Phys. Atk +1, Speed +45, Evasion +45) Umbrella (fetches a modest price if sold)

Summon (x4):

Business Partners: Lucky Break (Have a 1% chance to receive purchases for free) Dance Session: Gentle Rhythm (Restore a small amount of HP to the target)

Battle:

Weaknesses: Dagger, Bow, Ice, Wind Shields: 7 Item Drop: Fool's Leaf Learned Skills: Formless Rogue Sword (consume all your SP, then unleash a sword attack on all foes proportional to the amount of SP consumed)

Path actions:

Inquire: Lv. 40 Guide: Lv. 65 Challenge: Lv. 30 Befriend: Stone-Roasted Rice x15 Soothe: Herb of Serenity x1 Ambush: Lv. 60 Hire: $65,000 Coerce: 5 shields Bribe: $5,000

Mysterious Man (Lin Xue-Ya)

Strength: 10

Skills: Misty Veil (cause a single foe’s next 2 physical attacks to miss), Smoke Pipe (Confuse a single foe for 5-7 turns), Empoison, Panacea

Information:

Age: unknown Details: Pretends to be a humble traveler, or whatever other role suits the occasion, but in reality is a master thief known as the “Enigmatic Gale”. Switching from villain to hero at the drop of a hat, his true intentions are impossible to know. He came from a faraway land in pursuit of a certain swordsman he has taken an interest in. Information Gleaned: None

Items:

Bottle of Befuddling Dust Herb Elixir Revitalizing Jam Herb of Serenity

Summon (x3):

Business Partners: Silver Tongue (Receive 20% off purchases) Dance Session: Bewildering Ballad (Cause a curious effect to occur 1 time)

Battle:

Weaknesses: Staff, Dark Shields: 5 Item Drop: Refreshing Jam Learned Skills: Misty Veil (cause a single foe's next 1/2/3/4 physical attacks to miss) (20 SP)

Path actions:

Inquire: Lv. 20 Guide: Lv. 30 Challenge: Lv. 40 Befriend: Octopath Bowl x3 Soothe: Herb of Serenity x3 Ambush: Lv. 60 Hire: $30,000 Coerce: 6 shields Bribe: $3,000

[dostoyevsky-official]

On rates specifically, Trump could jawbone Jerome Powell like he did during his last administration. And there’s a good chance that he will replace him at some point. But even then this doesn’t automatically solve anything. If you take mainstream economic thinking seriously, and the Fed moves to aggressively lower interest rates to align itself with the administration, then this theoretically is inflationary, and then you just move the challenge elsewhere. A lot of the uncertainty hovering in the bond market is being priced into the term premium, roughly defined as the extra compensation investors demand to hold longer-term bonds. There’s a popular idea out there that the industrial policy of the Biden administration was a political failure. Efforts to reshore or revitalize domestic manufacturing didn’t change the Democrats’ fortunes among working class voters or deliver the Rust Belt states. On the other hand, it’s a little bit unclear how much this was the intent. A big part of the motivation for the IRA was climate-specific, and a lot new factories are in ‘red’ areas, in part to ensure GOP support for them after the changing of the administration. Furthermore, there’s a big China-hawk element among the Democrats’ ‘post-neoliberal’ base, which is in large part motivated by technological and industrial competition. [...] A bunch of stuff has been moving alongside Trump’s chances of winning (things like Bitcoin, DJT, and the dollar index), but one thing that’s kind of flown under the radar has been the move in perpetual preferreds issued by Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, a.k.a the GSE ‘zombie’ stocks. The bet here is that Trump could release Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac from conservatorship, which would mean they could theoretically pay out dividends to preferred investors once again. And finally, people love to talk about so-called “bond market vigilantes” but stock market vigilantes also exist. According to Gallup, 61% of American households own stocks. Stocks are how people fund retirements, college education, and so forth. You could argue that — with the gutting of defined benefit pension plans — a rising stock market is an implicit part of America’s social contract. And so when you think about policy adventurism — such as aggressive tariffs — it might be useful to think about how that would go down in equity world, and the effect that that would have on voting households.​

[callsignfate]

I need you to be okay

Day Fourteen of Writemas/Birthday posts!

If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here

TW: Lecturing, mention of dangerous acts, mention of guns and military vehicles, mention and talk of military field work, If I've missed any let me know!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡ This is stuck in my head. It's been stuck in my head. So now you all must have to read it. Reader is mentioned to be shorter than everyone and Laswell (I think)

(Soap finds out your married to Laswell might make a part two that he tells everyone)

You had joined TF141 for a temporary, unknown amount of time, often going by your callsign rather than anything else. Because they didn't dare ask your age, and you were slightly immature at times, they all called you different nicknames that had stuck with you.

A mission that was supposed to take no more than a day or two turned into almost a week. Everyone was excited to be back at the base. You could tell by the jokes and more revitalized tones that they were more than ready to shower and rest finally. You were excited, although for different reasons. You wanted nothing more than to see your wife.

"Shower and rest, Laswell wants a debrief in a few hours," Price said, grumbling about it under his breath about how he wanted a longer break for all of you and himself.

You nodded in response as the rest of them sighed and agreed with some small snide comments. You knew your wife well enough that she wanted to do it sooner; hell, she'd be there the second you stepped off the helicopter wanting a debrief if she wasn't trying to be even slightly nicer.

The hot shower and fresh, clean clothes felt like heaven. You finally got rid of the cold feeling that seemed stuck in your bones as you put on your favorite hoodie that you stole from Kate and headed out towards the meeting room. You could see Soap walking that way as well up the hall, also wearing more leisurely clothes.

It had been a few weeks since you had seen Kate. You could already hear her lecturing Price as you pulled open the door and looked to see almost everyone was here but Gaz. Kate's frustrated eyes flashed to yours as she raised her eyebrows with a pissed-off mom look she always gave you before she lectured you.

"And you, what in God's name do you think you were doing? We won't even talk about the reckless mistakes you made with them. I put you with them for a few months, and you begin to share their brain cells?" Kate's hands were moving frantically around as she spoke. She didn't often talk with her hands unless she was upset, and she was.

"I made the best decisions I could with the information and situation provided." You noticed that Kate took a lot of attitude back from the 141. She had vented to you about just how reckless they were, but you saw firsthand how tight of situations they get put in where they, and now you, had to make tough, probably reckless decisions to save their ass or get the job done.

"Don't talk to me that formally—I hate it, and you know it," Kate hissed out. In response, you laughed and sat down next to Soap, who looked bored and tired, although still happy and friendly as always.

You and Soap, while listening to Kate lecture Price, ended up spinning your chairs from side to side, quietly matching each other's movements with a stifled laugh every once in a while.

Gaz finally walked in. He sat near Ghost, who was silently watching it all unfold. Kate immediately went from lecturing Price to everyone as a group, sounding like a mother whose child had chased a ball into the street.

"Every one of you has a death wish or something? I leave for a few weeks, and suddenly the entire team decides to throw themselves into the line of fire like it's a bloody carnival game. I swear, Soap, you better stop making bets with Ghost on who can come closer to getting shot. And you," she pointed at Gaz, "I saw the report. You tried to take on a bloody tank with just a pistol!"

Gaz leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Well, Kate, you always said 'work smarter, not harder.' So, I thought, why not try it the other way around for a change?"

Kate's eyes narrowed, and you could practically see the storm clouds gathering. "This isn't a joke, Gaz. One of these days, your 'work harder' approach is going to get you killed."

Soap chimed in, "But we got the job done, Kate. That's what matters, right?"

"Getting the job done without getting yourselves killed or causing an international incident also matters," Kate retorted, crossing her arms.

You couldn't help but chuckle, earning a glare from Kate. "What's so funny?"

"Just missed your charming lectures, Kate. Reminds me that I'm home," you replied with a teasing smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, spare me. Anyway, debrief is over. Go get some rest, everyone, before you all end up in the hospital. And You, you stay."

As the door closed behind the last member leaving the room, you and Kate were left alone in the quiet aftermath of her scolding. The atmosphere shifted, becoming less official and more intimate. Kate sighed, her stern facade melting away as she ran a hand through her hair, a sign of her exasperation.

"You know," she began, her tone softer now, "I worry about all of you. This job... it takes a toll, and sometimes I feel like I'm herding a bunch of stubborn cats."

You chuckled again, standing up and walking over to where she was sitting. "Well, we're your stubborn cats, and you're the only one who can handle us."

She shot you a playful glare but couldn't hide the hint of a smile. "And what about you? Any reckless stunts I should know about? Or are you the one responsible adult in this operation?"

You leaned against the desk, meeting her gaze. "Oh, you know me, Kate. I'm the epitome of responsibility."

She snorted, playfully rolling her eyes. "Right. The 'responsible' one who used to climb out of bedroom windows just to avoid being caught sneaking in past curfew."

You smirked, recalling those rebellious teenage days. "Ah, those were the days. But seriously, I'm fine. No reckless stunts, promise."

She studied you for a moment, her expression shifting to something more thoughtful. "Good. Because... I need you to be okay. More than you probably realize."

Your teasing demeanor softened. You reached out, gently cupping her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Kate. You're stuck with me."

She leaned into your touch, closing her eyes briefly. "Good. Because I'd hate to have to chase you down and drag you back."

You chuckled, giving her cheek a light, affectionate tap. "Wouldn't want you to break a sweat, now, would we?"

She swatted your hand away with a mock scowl. "Go get some rest. We've got work to do, and I can't have you falling asleep in the middle of a mission."

With a final teasing grin, you left the room, leaving Kate to her paperwork and thoughts. The banter might be constant, but the unspoken understanding between you two was clear—you were her anchor in the storm, and she was yours. As you walked out, you saw Soap standing near the wall with a slightly shocked but sly smile. He held your favorite cap, the one you wore often. Before you could react, he reached into it and pulled out your name tag that read 'Laswell.' Your face paled as you realized Soap had overheard your discussion with your wife and discovered the name tag you had hidden in your cap.

Soap, holding the name tag between his fingers, raised an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. "Laswell, huh? So, our fearless leader has a soft spot for you. Never would've guessed."

Your face heated up, a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "Soap, don't you have better things to do than pry into other people's business?"

He chuckled, tossing the name tag back to you. "Hey, just having a bit of fun. But seriously, you and the boss? That's interesting."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Price owes me twenty bucks. Said he never believed the boss would get involved with someone on the team. Guess we both lost that bet." You sighed, realizing that your personal life had become a source of entertainment for your teammates. "If everyone finds out we're married I will shave off your mohawk in your sleep."

Soap raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful glint in his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll zip it. Your secret's safe with me. No need to resort to mohawk threats."

"Good," you replied, though the playful threat hung in the air. You headed to your quarters, thoughts swirling. It wasn't that you were ashamed of your relationship with Kate, but the nature of your work demanded a certain level of secrecy. The last thing you needed was the team treating every mission like some kind of love story drama.

After dealing with Soap, you decided to find Kate. She was now likely in her office, buried in paperwork. The familiar sound of helicopters and distant chatter filled the air as you navigated the base.

When you reached her office, Kate looked up from her desk, a rare smile gracing her lips. "Took you long enough."

"Debrief ran late," you joked, leaning against the doorframe.

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at what you were wearing finally. "Is that my hoodie?"

You smirked. "Maybe."

Kate chuckled, standing up and walking over to you. "You know, I missed you."

"I missed you too," you admitted, pulling her into a warm embrace.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

[dandelion-wings]

PLEASE share those extraneous details you cut from the Lisa whump we need the lore/headcanons

I liked a lot of them, so, sure? XD A lot were embedded in other parts, so I'll post those parts in full with the extra/parentheticals highlighted.

First, not parentheticals, just the easiest things to chop out of a section that was already prose-heavy when I was trying to also convey urgency. Also a potential theme (learning vs. teaching) that I found interesting enough to chuck wholesale into my fic ideas document for later exploration:

"So when Alice designed her Theater, there was enough resin in it for this to revitalize? Like a tree in a Domain?" Jean asks. Even in the midst of the calm that she refuses to let become terror, Lisa feels a spark of pride. She may not be Jean's teacher in the way she is for Razor and Klee, but seeing someone untutored make connections between the information they're given and what they already know will always give her the same joy. "Yes," she says, in the same tone she would to one of those students, "very good.

and

Two years of helping seal Hermanubis, over and over, until it stopped breaking through to overwhelm Cyno and he could develop his own control. She'd done a great deal of research in those two years. Along with all the other learning she'd been doing at the Akademiya, of course. Sleeping two hours a night, working through every meal, walking about with a book in hand so as not to lose a single second in which she might be able to absorb more knowledge.... An unsustainable pace, but one she had sustained for longer than might seem humanly possible. Even then she had eventually burned out. (She sees herself in Jean, sometimes, young and determined and convinced that if she just keeps going, eventually she'll reach the breakthrough point where all the hard work at last becomes *easy*, and all that sacrifice is redeemed by what she gains.) Only after that catastrophic emotional crash had she learned the joys of relaxing, the delights of taking it slow. And the satisfaction of teaching, so much more rewarding than all that learning had ever been. The pursuit of knowledge requires constant sacrifice; *sharing* knowledge demands nothing, only doubles what is given. She had left her notes for Cyrus when she left the Akademiya, and he and Cyno far surpass her now in their expertise on this subject.

I had a whole thing going about "Vision users die young," based in part on a lore theory that I think I picked up from @chrysoula about Vision-users being (ultimately expendable) ways for Celestia to control/process elemental power, but also 50% a dig at the Genshin devs for refusing to give me any playable Beefy Grandpas or Tough Old Women. I pulled it out because all the references for it were an easy thing to rip for pacing:

Very little magic in the modern era doesn't rely on the elements. Even when scholars speak of "old techniques," they're talking about herbalism, which still involves the elemental affinities of certain plants, or tapping the leylines, which remains an occasional if dangerous recourse for those without Visions but had been much more common when Visions were much more rare. They were, before the Cataclysm. (The Akademiya quietly suppresses discussion of *why*.) But there are even older techniques from before the establishment of the Thrones, some still practiced in Liyue and Inazuma under the guise of traditional healing and martial arts, that draw on another source entirely. Her own lifeforce isn't a price Lisa *wishes* to pay. But it is one she knows how to. And it's one Celestia would always have demanded from her, anyway, for that Vision she's so ambivalent about. (People never seem to notice that they've never met a Vision-bearer who isn't *young*. Lisa has done her best to avoid exerting her power, to avoid paying that price into Celestia's coffers. She doesn't miss the irony now.)

(Jean was predestined to die young the moment her Vision appeared, but she'd been taught long before that to accept it as an honor, if in Mondstadt's defense. She would begrudge Lisa the chance to serve more than she would the risk.) (Lisa was predestined to die young the moment her Vision appeared, and she had recoiled from her fate as soon as she realized that truth. She has no desire to rush towards annihilation, even on Mondstadt's behalf.) (Practically, rationally: if they share the work,  *both* of them have a better chance.)

(I do headcanon Lisa as the oldest Mondstadt character by at least 10 years, but mid-to-late-30s is far from old, just puts her that much closer to this theoretical fate.)

and (from Lisa accepting Jean's aid, which happened after the paragraph above in 1.0--moving that to earlier in the ficlet was the other major revision between it and 1.5, and was the reason I wrote that post about twisting Lisa's arm yesterday. I couldn't make her first thought believably be "fine, I'll do this solo" without upping the stakes with something like "Klee's stuck in that," which is a method I already used in the last promptfic, and Jean volunteering way earlier was IC for Jean and fixed that neatly). This whole bit's cut material so I won't color-code here:

Finally, just a bit of speculative magical (and "we don't talk about this in front of Celestia"-themed) worldbuilding that made this paragraph way too chunky:

Sumeran seals tend to use threes (for Dendro, Electro, and Pyro, they say; not for certain trio in their past), Liyue prefers sevens (all seven elements at once grant stability; certainly, with all the adepti also in that court, it has nothing to do with two ruling gods and five generals), and Inazuma likes fives (they're far too secretive to even give their justifications, let alone the historical context behind). Khaenri'ah was emphatically locked into pairs (too gnostic to admit the world has three parts), and Fontaine has a terrible, unstable tendency to use just one anchor-point (that Lisa hopes will change now that it's nearly wiped them out). Mondstadt doesn't have a sealing tradition in the first place as far as the Akademiya is concerned, but Lisa knows better. What else are the Four Winds?