#best architecture in california

[rabbitcruiser]

National Almond Day

Almonds, a bite-sized little nut common in trail mix and other breakfast and snack recipes. More likely than not, you’ve tried an almond before. But, did you know there is an entire day devoted to the celebration of almonds?! National Almond Day is a reason for foodies to celebrate!

It’s generally believed and agreed by historians (and food historians in particular) that almonds were one of the earliest cultivated foods by mankind. Almonds are mentioned as far back in history as the Bible! Although their first place of origin is debated, almonds were thought to have first been cultivated in China and Central Asia.

While traveling the Silk Road between Asia and the Mediterranean, explorers were said to snack on almonds during the long travel times. As explorers settled in the Mediterranean region, the trees began to grow in the area. As the trees spread throughout Europe, many of them clustered in Spain and Italy.

Almonds eventually made their journey to the United States in the mid-1700s. Historians believe they made their appearance on the trade ship brought to the US from Spain by the Franciscan Padres. The trees died out in the United States quite quickly as the soil and cultivation knowledge to keep the trees alive was inadequate. It was not until the 1800’s that almond trees were successfully grown and harvested in the States. By the end of the 1800s, the Sacramento and San Joaquin areas of California became the United State’s biggest almond producers.

Today, almonds symbolize a variety of things. The Bible tells the story of the rod that blossomed and bore almonds, making them a divine religious symbol. The early Romans gifted almonds to family and friends as fertility charms. These gifts were typically given at weddings. Today, sugared or frosted almonds are often given at American weddings to guests as a sign of happiness, wealth, and good fortune.

Health Benefits of Almonds

If you are still on the fence about enjoying almonds, you’ll be pleased to know they have a wide variety of health benefits. Almonds are high in fiber, which means they promote digestion and can give you extra good gut bacteria. Almonds, outside of their edible form, are great for your skin. If you suffer from dry, flaky, or irritated skin, you can apply almond oil or almond lotions to hydrate your skin and give you a dose of vitamin A.

If your hair needs a little bit of shine, consider adding an almond-based shampoo or conditioner.  Almonds have also been studied for their benefits in lowering your risk of heart disease! If you are dieting, this little nut can help to provide you with a quick snack to curb cravings, as it is high in plant proteins.

The nutrients in almonds have also been proven to help lower blood pressure and your risk for diabetes! They are also known for their high vitamin E content, their effectiveness at reducing cholesterol levels, and helping with weight loss, as well as being a vegan and lactose food alternative.

History of National Almond Day

While the origins of National Almond Day aren’t clear, today is the day to go nuts! The day even has its website! According to the site, this day celebrates food that is “Good for your heart. Good for your waistline. Good for your skin. What can’t almonds do?” The site also mentions that “it’s no wonder this ultimate superfood has its very own day of honor.” The site provides a variety of resources for almond lovers, from recipes, health studies, to a background on the development and harvesting of almonds.

How to Celebrate National Almond Day

National Almond Day celebrates all things almond, and rightly so, given their benefits! There are a variety of ways to celebrate almond day. If you want an easy way to celebrate, consider purchasing a pack of almonds and enjoying them as a snack! Almonds come in a variety of different flavor options, so if you’re tired of plain almonds, consider trying a new flavor! Try out some smoked, honey roasted, sriracha, jalapeno, ranch, or barbecue flavored almonds to switch it up!

If you aren’t a fan of eating almonds, try celebrating almonds in their other forms. Consider treating yourself and your body to an almond-based lotion, shampoo, or perfume!

Are you looking to spread the almond love to those around you? Consider baking a dinner or dessert using almonds. You can serve this for your family dinner or take it to a friend or loved one to enjoy. You can coat almonds in sugar, sesame seeds, or spices and bake them to create a simple and flavorful snack. For dinner, consider cooking green beans or other vegetables topped with herbs and sliced almonds! Looking to spice up your meat dish at dinner?

Consider coating your chicken, pork, or salmon in almond flour or chopped almond coating for a kick of flavor and crunch. For dessert, make almond marzipan or almond flour cake! Got a family member who is vegan or allergic to lactose? Drink almond milk or research wonderful vegan recipes using almonds instead of animal products!

Whether you enjoy eating plain almonds or not, these little nuts can be prepared wonderfully for any palette. From desserts to hearty dinners, to little snacks, to body products, the ways to celebrate almonds are infinite!

Source

[tommeaney]

Best architects in california

Best architects in california are celebrated for their cutting-edge designs and ability to harmonize modern aesthetics with the state's unique environmental context.

[allstarproductions]

A Guide to Select a Professional Architectural Videographer in California

A picture may be worth a thousand words when showcasing architectural marvels. But a well-crafted video can take the experience to a whole new level. In California, a state known for its iconic buildings and stunning landscapes, finding the right professional architectural videographer is essential to ensure your projects get captured in the best possible light. Want to know more? Read this article!

[sailf1sh]

It's time...welcome to sailfish ranting about his Grandline University au. (Plus a lil wip teehee)

Thanku to @rougherduckling for helping me with the ideas 😌

GRANDLINE UNIVERSITY AND AQUARIUM

- Set somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico

- A university and aquarium with a heavy focus on marine preservation and study

RORONOA ZORO

- Early childhood education major

- Works at a youth center

- roommates with Sanji

- Likes kids, and wants to teach kendo and give kids good opportunities he didn't have growing up (perhaps relating to Kuina's death)

- Semi-adopted by Mihawk (runs the youth center or kendo place) and Perona (sister figure, Mihawk is her adoptive dad, and fashion/textile major)

- Doing it for the kids ™️

SANJI

- Culinary major

- Comes from California (Zeff owns the Baratie there)

- Very preppy (stark contrast to Zeff) and thinks he's hot shit

- Delayed Bi-panic over his roommate Zoro

- Very confused by Zoro and definitely hates him ™️

- French??? Idk he got really mad one time and started yelling french

- Claims to be from California, but is DEFINITELY French

- Witness protection????? His ass will not tell you anything

MONKEY D. LUFFY

- Undeclared

- Came to Grandline because Ace and Sabo went there (Ace is a dropout who started traveling the world, Sabo got his degree and became a politician/equal rights activist)

- No idea what he wants to be, but he's gonna have fun doing it!

- His village pitched in to send him to school (Garp could have done it, but tbh he forgot about this kid, Dragon supplies money behind the scenes)

- The one who dragged everybody together

- Shanks is his father figure (Shanks is a cool marine life rescuer that works with the Aquarium)

NAMI

- Meteorology major, Architecture/cartography minor

- Seen the bad side of poaching and hates it

- Came to Grandline because it has the best to offer in the way of Meteorology

- Meets Vivi in an English class

- Best friends with Zoro WLW and MLM solidarity

USSOP

- Photography major, journalism minor

- Childhood best friends with Kaya (medical art)

- Tired of Sanji's shit ™️

- Keeper of friend group secrets (release him)

- Someone takes pictures on campus sneakily and puts it in the university newspaper/newsletter and nobody knows who (Sogeking)

TONY TONY CHOPPER

- Med student

- Child prodigy ™️

- Got in on a really good scholarship

- Knows Law (surgeon), VERY intimidated by him

- Just a lil guy :3

- Friends with Kaya

NICO ROBIN

- Teacher of all, and works on archeology digs with the university

- Kind of just knows everything

- Outwardly innocent, FREAK on the inside

- Likes that slutty mechanic

- Her students think she's nice, but are low-key scared of her

FRANKY

- Mechanic, and Engineering teacher

- Biggest "be who you are, for your pride~" man on campus

- Will stop class to rant about it ^

- DOWN BAD for Robin

- His students think he's weird at first, then become his wingman (group chats will be made)

- Exclusively wears shorts (he would wear nothing but the university won't let him)

BROOK

- Just...a guy? Who is this guy actually

- Luffy's friend

- OLD. He changes his answer every time someone asks

- Kinda just shows up on campus and plays music

- People like him, but are very confused by him

- Only Luffy knows the truth

JIMBE

- Marine Biology teacher, and works at the aquarium

- Chill dude ™️

- The adult of the adults

- I'm sorry Jimbe I still don't know enough about you

VIVI

- Political science Major

- Works for equal rights and change within her country

- A Princess????

- Pretty woman..... - Nami probably

- Science classes with Nami

SHANKS

- Sends Luffy to bother Buggy

- 'ahaha...come get slushies with me and I'll call Luffy off.'

- Lost his arm to a shark saving Luffy

- Marine life rescuer

- Works with the aquarium

- Goes out with Mihawk on occasion, Buggy gets way too pissed about it

BUGGY

- Theater teacher

- Luffy fails his class and keeps retaking it

- Shanks' ex

- Students egg Luffy's dumb shit on

This au is very much the silly one of my aus, with a big Y2K/2000s vibe XD

We have a few silly plotlines (and angsty ones teehee) drafted up, but who knows perchance I will make a post on those too! I'll probably make a post about Hellfire au soon too (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Also the playlist for this au if you're interested 😏

🌊GRANDLINE UNIVERSITY🏝️

[mywitchyblog]

The Coolest Thing About Reality Shifting: DR Memories

What Are DR Memories ? :

One of the coolest things about reality shifting is that you can get DR memories—these are memories from your desired reality (DR). What’s really cool about these memories is that they fill in the blanks, like adding extra content to the story. But what makes it even better is that these memories often answer questions that the original show or movie never explained. It’s almost like having secret insider knowledge that makes the story and characters make more sense and feel more real. These memories can add extra background information, character motivations, or small details that clear up plot holes. It makes the universe of that show or movie feel more complete and satisfying. That’s why I think DR memories are one of the most interesting parts of reality shifting—they add a lot of depth and detail that you wouldn't get otherwise.

Claircognizance and DR Memories :

In case you didn't know, a DR memory is a type of claircognizance. Claircognizance is a psychic ability where you get knowledge or insights without any logical explanation—it's like the information just pops into your head. It’s not like remembering something you already know or imagining something new; instead, it feels like this information just appears in your mind without any effort.

I can tell the difference between a DR memory and a daydream because with daydreams, I actually create them myself, almost like I’m walking through the daydream and deciding what happens next. Daydreams are like a creative process, where I have control over what happens. With DR memories, it's the opposite—the memory just comes to me, almost like downloading information from somewhere unknown. It’s passive, and I feel like I’m just receiving it instead of making it happen. DR memories usually come with a strong sense of certainty that they’re real, which is very different from daydreams, which feel more like imagination.

How I Recognize DR Memories :

That's how I can tell the difference between the two. I'm currently working on developing my psychic abilities, and from what I've learned, claircognizance is the best way to describe what happens when shifters get DR memories. Claircognizance is like getting information from a place you can't see, almost like an invisible source of knowledge.

One reason I value these memories so much is that they make things suddenly make sense, like putting together puzzle pieces that finally fit. They don’t feel random—they come with a clarity and sense of completeness that I can't ignore. I knew it was a DR memory because it came with a strong sense of certainty, a conviction that I wouldn't normally have if I was just imagining things. It’s that feeling of knowing that tells me it’s not something I made up, but something real and meaningful, which makes the experience even more special.

Example: Teen Wolf Filming Locations :

Here's an example that really stood out to me. It's related to Teen Wolf, specifically where they filmed the show. In the first two seasons, they filmed in Atlanta, Georgia, which gave it that small-town vibe and charm. The setting made it feel like a real close-knit community, with overcast skies, thick woods, and an older, worn-out small-town look. But from season three onward, they moved filming to California, which totally changed things.

The new location made the show look different since the Californian landscapes had more sun, wider streets, new architecture, and brighter natural scenery. This change impacted the show's overall tone and feel. The new brightness made everything look cleaner and less gritty, which affected the mood and atmosphere. What always bugged me was that the show never explained in the story why the high school changed so much between seasons two and three. It felt like a sudden, unexplained shift, and it always stood out to me as something inconsistent when I watched the series again.

The DR Memory That Explained It All :

Then I had this DR memory, and it all made sense. Basically, in my DR memory, there was a big renovation. The old high school from seasons one and two was in an older, run-down part of town with outdated facilities and a dull look. The town council realized that the school was no longer meeting the needs of the community, and it couldn't keep up with modern education standards. So, they decided to build a brand new high school—one that was bigger, more modern, and way more functional, with updated technology and better facilities, like advanced science labs, new computer rooms, and bigger athletic fields.

The construction project took about two to three years, and it involved a lot of community effort, planning, and even some fundraising by the local residents. The town was really proud to build something that would be a central part of the community and give students a much better learning environment. By the time summer break was over (like the one at the very beginning of season 3A), the new high school was ready, with modern classrooms, great sports facilities, an upgraded library with digital resources, and a cool, sleek design. It was a huge improvement compared to the old school. So, by the time season three starts, the high school is completely new and very different from the old one.

Better Than Devenford Prep :

What I found pretty funny in the DR memory was that some of the new facilities at our high school ended up being even better than the ones at Devenford Prep, which is supposed to be this elite school with the best resources. The upgrades were so impressive that even some of the prep school students came over to use our facilities, especially things like the athletic spaces and the new multimedia studio (which is, in a way, canon since I think there are scenes of Brett Talbot training at the BHHS lacrosse field). The swimming pool and gym were way nicer than anything Devenford had, which was surprising because private schools are usually thought to have better stuff than public ones.

Finally, I had an explanation for why the high school changed so much between seasons two and three, which the show never actually explained. It was really satisfying to fill in that missing piece because it made the story feel more realistic, like everything fit together and made sense, almost as if it had always been part of the original story.

@shiftingwithmars i think you have a teen wolf DR ? So maybe this lil storty time of mine will make some sense to you.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Kanye West, legally known as Ye, is selling the Malibu, California home he ruined, for $53M (He bought it for $57M). The house was designed by one of the world’s most eminent architects, Tadao Ando, and Ye stripped it clean of windows, doors, electrical, and many of the architect’s signature interior finishes.

Sitting since 2021, the mansion is now rotting. Wait. This is $53M for a cement shell, basically. The brutalist style home has 1,200 tons of poured concrete and 200 tons of steel reinforcement to hold it all together with 12- 60 ft. pylons sunk into the sand.

The beachside house was once the epitome of artistic ingenuity.

The floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water have long been removed, leaving the rear of the building entirely open to the elements.

All of the interior photos are before it was gutted. The alleged plan was to try to turn the mansion into a “Bat Cave” so he could “hide from the Clintons and Kardashians.”  

Ye’s new celebrity realtor believes the renovations are a selling point b/c he left a blank canvas, making it easier for the new owners to design the home exactly to their liking.  

The house needs windows and doors, along with plumbing, electrical, HVAC and interior finishes, b/c they've all been removed.

Although Ye removed the interior finishes, “this creates an unbelievably rare opportunity to buy a Picasso on the water," said the agent.

“This architect is known for his concrete work, which is what remains,” he says, "It was a very minimalist interior previously and will likely continue to be that in order to allow the architecture to speak louder than the finishes.”

The plan was to go off grid. The contractor said, “Ye wanted no electricity. He only wanted plants, candles, battery lights; and to have everything open and dark. You can’t keep food in that house, because you had no refrigerator left. You had no windows. I had seagulls flying in.” 

The former architectural tour de force was only one of the few private homes in the United States designed by the renowned Pritzker Prize-winning Japanese architect. Best known for his minimalist structures and “smooth-as-silk” concrete.

The upper-level terrace pictured here comes out from a main bedroom suite that takes up the entire top floor.

I don't know what to think. Everything is gone- no utilities, none of the original elements the architect is known for, not even any windows. And, he's only knocked off $4M from what he paid for it, complete.

It's rotting from the inside out. Here's a collapsed concrete wall and rusted railings. On top of all of this, it's unsafe b/c concrete is falling. It's like a total knockdown.

[imisscherryboy-blog]

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers - football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 1 part 3

spotify playlist (it’s good i swear)

3k words…………….💀

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven't been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: !mature themes! (no smut) enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, part 2/3, gn reader, ajax is bi (since it’s gn), alhaitham and kaveh are gay, tbh kaveh kinda ooc imo, ajax is a bad boy ⛓️🥀 california coded

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh), mona, albedo

warnings: mature themes, themes of sexual harassment (not described), reader almost gets kidnapped, drugs, alcohol, smoking, swearing, reader tells childe to kys (satire we in love w him)

★ part 2 of an ongoing series ★

ajax and his mom’s car drove further and further from the empty school. it was 11pm now, and you made your way back to the field to help clean up. the walk to the football field among the poorly lit school lights filled you with a sense of nostalgia—akin to how you first felt when you met ajax. you were snapped out of your thoughts as you saw kaveh jogging toward you.

“hey—you okay? what took so long?”

“oh boy.” this was gonna be a long night.

you drove kaveh and yourself to a nearby denny’s to debrief. you ordered pancakes and kaveh ordered probably the most, intricate, dish on the menu. over sharing food, you two both explained what happened while separated. you went first in retelling the events of taping him up to meeting his mom.

“he’s definitely not over you.” kaveh said taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“dude, i feel like that’s such a mom thing to say though.” you argued.

“oh yeah my son talks about you 24/7 even though you haven’t talked in years!! let’s be serious y/n.” kaveh always knew had to make you laugh.

“i’ll think about it… but i wanna know what happened with you and alhaitham.” you tried to move the conversation away from yourself.

“you will never in a million years guess what happened.” kaveh said, loudly whispering.

“okay, so i won’t guess. what happened?”

“he gave me his number.” he said as his hands flew up to his face. “i’m still in shock.”

“oh my god.” you said, almost in disbelief.

“and that’s not all.. he invited me.. to a party. his party.” at this point, kaveh was practically standing up.

“don’t even lie..” you said.

“oh i’m not lying.” he took out his phone and showed an imessage thread of alhaitham sending kaveh a date and time, along with an address. your hands covered your mouth. he was serious. “and you’re coming with me.”

“yeah right.”

“oh, you’ll be there alright.”

you were there alright. the two of you stood outside the large house, viewing the students and strangers scattered across the lawn. it had been two weeks since the incident with ajax. not a word had been exchanged since then. but you cared more about kaveh, who has always been there for you, than some now stranger that presumably hates you. so you decided to accompany him. ajax and alhaitham were close, so you knew damn well you’d be in for a long night.

“well.. my future boyfriend is waiting inside. let’s go.” kaveh said as you both walked inside. it was a big house to say the least. alhaitham’s parents were some high ranking officials for the state school board, so they had money—and the ability to pull strings at any school they pleased.

“these high ceilings… and oh my god these exposed beams..” kaveh started to ramble on about the architecture of the house. he was into that stuff. you just nodded your head and pretended like you understood. you two walked to the drink table, and you both took a shot of pink whitney (it was disgusting) and a hard seltzer as a chaser.

“’m glad you guys made it.” an unfamiliar voice could be heard behind the two of you before you turned around. it was alhaitham.

“hi alhaitham!” kaveh sounded a little too happy. you also said hi and let the two of them go. you didn’t want to third wheel so you talked to some friends that were also at the party.

you couldn’t find ajax, though.

you hated that he was the first person you wanted to look for in this crowded room.

you figured he was off with someone, but nonetheless continued to keep and eye out for him, to steer clear of him, of course.

“and i just knew off the bat he was a scorpio.” your friend in your government class, mona, said as she took a sip of her drink.

“you’re so talented.” another friend of your’s, albedo added.

“if he was a cancer, it’d be a whole other story. everyone likes cancers..” she trailed off.

ajax was a cancer.

“hey y/n, let’s go take another shot.” mona suggested. “you down?”

“sure.” you figured saying no would leave you alone. albedo followed the two of you. after a couple of shots, mona kept talking.

“weren’t you the one that went with ajax after his last game?” mona’s question snapped you out of your daze.

“oh, yeah. that was me.” you explained.

“you didn’t hear it from me, but ajax’s fan club kinda hates you now..” well that was great. you didn’t even do anything.

“oh for real?”

“mhm, i even heard you two go way back.” albedo added. how would anyone know that..? let alone care that much? you thought to yourself.

“who’d you hear it from?” you asked.

“i heard two girls talking about it in econ.” albedo nonchalantly said.

“oh.”

in that moment, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you. you looked to the right of albedo’s head and saw ajax leaning against the wall, beside another guy. the guy was looking at him and talking, but it seemed like the only thing he was focused on was you. he took a sip from his red solo cup as you both held contact for maybe a second, before he looked away. it seemed he was already staring at you.

“y/n?” mona said.

“oh, sorry. why don’t we take another shot?” you suggested. something in you wanted to forget about him for a little bit to relieve yourself of the jealousy you felt. you knew that guy was his next victim, and it made you upset that that’s the person he’s become.

you, albedo, and mona took more shots after that. mona was gone by that point, and you were pretty sure you were drunk. luckily for you, you weren’t too much of a talker when you got drunk, you just felt dizzy and tired.

“i think we should go, mona. you need to sleep.” albedo said as he ushered a tipsy mona out of the door. you said your byes and stood at the steps of the house, watching them leave. you shouted a small “text me when you’re home” to which albedo nodded. you checked your phone for the time. it was 11pm now. you figured you should go find kaveh.

you walked along the twisty halls of alhaitham’s house. it felt like everything was spinning. you just wanted to sleep. you couldn’t go home unless you found kaveh. you didn’t want to leave him, and he’d understand if you wanted to go home. you recalled you didn’t see ajax after only seeing him for a second. maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but you felt as if you were being watched. you didn’t know by who, though.

you ended up in the living room again. you sat down on the large couch next to a couple making out, keeping your distance. you put your hands on your face, rubbing your eyes and trying to stay awake. you kept telling yourself that you needed to find kaveh, but every passing second made you feel more and more tired. a short nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

and just like that, you fell asleep on the end of the couch. you would admit it’d be kinda embarrassing to fall asleep at a party like a little kid, but you couldn’t help it. you were in a daze, half asleep and half awake. you could still hear the loud music, but your body was asleep. you saw two blurry figures in front of you.

“let’s take them …”

“my house? …”

“let’s go …”

what we’re they talking about? maybe they were talking to each other. why were they looking at you though? all of a sudden, you felt yourself being lifted up by the two guys. you honestly thought it was kaveh trying to get you back home, but he wasn’t that big. you felt yourself leaning against one of the guy’s arms, as the other one held you up. you felt yourself heading for the door before another guy stopped you.

“fuck are you guys doing?” a familiar voice said.

“oh—they’re our friend. they had a little too much to drink.” the two guys laughed. that was when you realized those two men were indeed not your friends but probably two low lifes trying to take advantage of you.

“y/n you know these guys?” the voice asked you. you nodded your head ‘no’ in response. you felt yourself being pried off by the person in front of you.

“who do you think you are? huh?” the guy that was trying to kidnap you said loudly. you had a headache now. all you could feel was a warm arm around you, and your head resting on.. ajax?

“who even are you two?” you heard alhaitham’s voice now. when those two guys carried you, they felt way too big to be high schoolers, college students?

“that’s none of your fucking business. get the fuck out of our way.” one of the two guys said. you felt a hand grab for you before ajax pulled you away from them.

“it is my business dipshit, i’m the owner of this house.” alhaitham retorted. by now, there was a small crowd around the five of you.

“alhaitham take y/n upstairs, i’ll deal with them.” ajax said as you felt alhaitham after a couple seconds pick you up with ease. usually, you’d be up and well awake by now, but that pink whitney had you paralyzed. you wanted to just say you could walk, but if you did, you’d probably collapse on the spot. contrary to some beliefs, alhaitham wasn’t a bad guy. kaveh liked him for a reason. he wouldn’t jump from girl to boy like ajax did. he carried you up the stairs and stopped in front of a room, before muttering something to himself.. about kaveh? then walking to another room and placing you on a bed, before immediately leaving, shutting the door behind him. you looked around the room before falling asleep. needless to say, it was a really nice room. it had a balcony and a big tv. it was a good size and the bed was pretty comfortable. there was a sports duffel bag on a chair that had your school’s logo on it. there wasn’t any equipment in it, just clothes. were you in alhaitham’s room? you looked a little closer and saw a hoodie laid out on the edge of the bed. it had your school’s name and the number 11 on it.

number 11?

why would ajax’s hoodie be here?

your headache only got worse, especially after almost getting kidnapped. you could heard the commotion downstairs, most likely ajax trying to get those two college guys out of the party. you slowly drifted to sleep.

after what felt like a couple hours, you woke up. you felt severely hungover but you tried to ignore it. it was still dark outside, and the room was cold. too cold. you picked up your phone that was on the charger and saw the time, 4:00 am. you had a couple of notifications but none of them were from kaveh. wait, you didn’t plug your phone in before going to sleep? who plugged it in?

“sleep well?” a voice could be heard from the balcony. the door was wide open, and you looked over. ajax stood at the door to the balcony with a cigarette in his hand, wearing that same hoodie you saw before going to sleep.

“no—what’re you doing here?” you said as you rubbed your eyes, slowly getting up.

“alhaitham had the bright idea to put you in my room.”

oh.

you were in ajax’s room.

“sorry.” you said. it went quiet for a minute. “you shouldn’t be smoking.” you pointed out.

“it’s either this or the oxycontin they prescribed me.” you’d much rather have him smoking a cigarette then.

you were sitting on up on the bed now. you needed to get kaveh and go home. you still were processing the events from last—a couple hours ago.

“you kept saying my name in your sleep..” ajax said blowing a puff of smoke outside.

there was absolutely no way. you felt your face heating up, were you actually??

“just kidding.” he ghosted the smoke.

“genuinely kill yourself.” why’d you believe him so easily? that would’ve been the worst thing to happen to you that night. after almost getting kidnapped. “where’s kaveh?” you asked.

“he’s out, alhaitham’s room.”

oh my god.

you’d need to debrief again with kaveh later.

“where’s alhaitham’s room? i’m taking him and going home.” you stated as you began to look for your belongings.

“how’re you getting home?” ajax asked.

“uber.” you said.

“like an uber’s gonna accept your ride at four in the morning.”

“you gonna drive me then?”

“if it comes down to it, yeah.” why was he being.. nice?

“you shouldn’t be coming to these kind of things if you leave yourself this vulnerable.” ajax said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “you haven’t changed, y/n.”

“well you sure have.” you said under your breath.

“grow up, y/n. just because you’re stuck in the past doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing that i’ve changed.” he had a point, but you’d never say that. “we’ll never be those kids again.”

you chuckled, “at least i can stick to one person. it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at that.”

“who? you can stick to who?”

you. that’s what you wanted to say. that’s what he wanted to say, too.

“nobody—just tell me where alhaitham’s room is.” you wanted to leave. remember how you thought he was being nice?

“down the hall on your right.” ajax said, walking back to the balcony. it felt like talking to a stranger.

you followed his instructions and arrived at the door. should you knock? or just go in really slowly? you put your ear against the door, trying to listen for any, sounds you wouldn’t exactly want to hear. it sounded quiet. you reached for the door handle and slowly pushed down, but it stopped there. it was locked. you cursed kaveh in your head, once again that night. you heard ajax’s agitating, grating voice down the hall, laughing. you just rolled your eyes and tried texting kaveh.

“y/n, it’s not gonna work. just wait until morning and you guys can uber back together.” he had a point. what was a couple more hours? at least you wouldn’t be leaving kaveh either, but you’d be stuck with ajax. that’s not something you really wanted, but it was for kaveh.

“do you have any food?”

you and ajax ended up in the kitchen, eating cereal. you pushed the cinnamon toast crunch around in your bowl as you sat at the island. ajax was in front of you, pouring himself out more cereal. it was quiet for the most part. one thing about the two of you was that you’d both be too scared to be the first to do anything. but that was a long time ago.

“how’s your knee?” you made some attempt at making conversation.

“recovering. what’s it to you?” of course he just had to say something that would piss you off.

“absolutely nothing.” you responded, taking a bite of the cereal. “did you fight those college guys?”

“oh yeah the ones that tried to abduct you and you just let them?”

that pissed you off. it wasn’t your fault, if anything, it was whoever let them in.

“if you did fight them i hope they beat the shit out of you.”

“maybe you should learn how to be more careful at parties. also another reason why you shouldn’t even be here.” he retorted.

“you’re such a bitch, you know that? i came with kaveh because i’m actually a good friend. it’s not like you ever were.”

“don’t start with that shit y/n.” he looked angry now. “i saved your ass and i don’t even get a thank you?”

“thank you. happy?” ajax’s phone started buzzing, it was closer to you than to him, so you saw the text messages.

myqb😘: kaveh’s w me

myqb😘: you should talk to y/n while you have the chance 🤑

myqb😘: and help me clean my goddamn house

that’s all you saw before he took his phone back. what the fuck was with the emoji? and the name?? ajax texted him and laid his phone screen down now. he didn’t see you reading the messages. you and ajax have argued twice in one night, you started to remember why you two aren’t friends anymore. you put your hands on your head, rubbing your forehead. you felt your headache coming back.

“what’s wrong with you?” his look softened a little when he saw your face.

“nothing. just hungover.” you responded.

“you need painkillers?” it was like he read your mind.

“i’ll take some if you have any.” you admitted.

“i got opioids, cigarettes, and tylenol. your pick.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“tylenol.” you said.

“you sure?” he asked. you nodded your head in response. he went upstairs to go get your pain killers. why was he doing this? his face when he saw you in pain made your heart melt. why did it seem like he still gave a fuck about you? more like you two both gave a fuck about each other. you started thinking. you helped him out, and he’s helping you. your headache only got worse.

-> part 3

tag list - lmk if you would like to be added :)

@zamorazz

[iwouldexistwithoutyou]

The Museum of Jurassic Technology.

There is a museum that most folks are unaware of located in Culver City California near an old bus stop called "The Museum of Jurassic Technology." When I first heard about this museum from friends I was told "Don't read anything about the museum, just go in with an open mind and a few hours to spare." So, one day I drove down and entered the museum, I am about to spoil the amazing secret within the museum so if you ever plan on visiting I urge you to stop reading here.

You begin to browse the exhibits which are all presented as normal museum artifacts, and you hear about practices or see artifacts from ages long gone by. There are exhibits on subjects such as "Tell the Bees...Belief, Knowledge and Hypersymbolic Cognition", "Garden of Eden on Wheels: Selected Collections from Los Angeles Area Mobile Home and Trailer Parks", and "The World is Bound With Secret Knots The Life and Works of Athanasius Kircher". The interior of the museum is not white walls with concrete flooring, instead it is wooden and old, with ornate and beautifully detailed architecture everywhere. Suddenly as you're reading at some moment it will hit you: everything in this museum is fake. This place is a museum with the same careful meticulous presentations and huge tombs of work written about the various exhibits, but it is all entirely made up.

I immediately became fascinated with the place, who would create such a museum and why? This book entitled "Mr. Wilson's Cabinet Of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology"  by Lawrence Weschler expertly recreates the same feeling you get within that museum, but also answers questions about the origins of the place, and goes into the personal life of the curator and founder of the museum Mr. David Wilson. Several of the exhibits are summarized within the book as well as the personal lives of those who choose to become benefactors of the museum, why would one donate money to a museum filled with lies? As Lawrence Weschler takes us on a journey through the history of Curio Cabinets he explains how what started as a simple cabinet, grew and grew into one of the largest and most curious collections I've ever seen. If you have a chance to stop by, I highly recommend taking in the exhibits and appreciating their beauty and the work that went into them, also definitely take some Turkish tea with the doves that live in the roof garden (along with the mausoleum). If you can't stop by, the next best thing is to read Weschler's book and be transported there if only in your mind. Most have never read it because they have no connection to the relatively unknown museum itself, I think the best way to restore public interest in this place and the book would be to use the book as a companion to a documentary on the museum, create an expanded and updated edition bringing it up to date with the modern day as the museum is still there, but this book was written in 1995, or to increase the marketing of the museum itself as they don't really go out of their way to advertise their presence. I hope you get a chance to check out "Mr. Wilson's Cabinet Of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology", you won't find many texts that evoke the same feeling it did in me. Work Cited: Weschler, Lawrence. Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet Of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology. National Geographic Books, 1996. Photography of the Museum:

[pankowcrumbs]

Summer Romance X Calum Hood

Chapter 1

MasterList

5 Seconds of Summer Masterlist

Chapter 1. 2. 3.

The California sun blazed overhead, bathing the city in its golden glow. It was my first summer in Los Angeles, and despite the endless sunshine, I couldn’t shake the nervous excitement buzzing in my chest. Melbourne felt like a world away, but I was ready for whatever this adventure held.

“Y/N, hurry up! The Uber’s waiting!” Tasha, one of my best friends, shouted from the living room. I grabbed my sunglasses and phone, dashing out to join her and our group of friends. Tonight, we were heading to a house party hosted by one of Tasha’s friends—a producer or something. LA felt like an endless cycle of introductions to people who seemed larger than life.

The drive to the Hollywood Hills was filled with chatter and laughter. The city was alive, its energy buzzing through me. When we arrived, the house was everything I imagined—modern architecture, fairy lights strung around the patio, and a view of the city that stole my breath away.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s find drinks!” Tasha tugged my arm, leading me through the crowd. The music thumped in my chest as I scanned the room. I wasn’t much of a party girl, but I was determined to make the most of this summer.

“Tasha! You made it!” A tall guy with messy hair and a friendly grin greeted us. He gave her a quick hug before turning to me. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve heard about you.”

“All good things, I hope?” I joked, shaking his hand.

“Of course. I’m Ethan.” He leaned closer. “You’re in for a good night. Oh, and there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Before I could respond, Ethan disappeared into the crowd, leaving me with Tasha.

“Who do you think he meant?” I asked, but Tasha just shrugged, sipping her drink.

A few minutes later, Ethan returned, and he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was someone I immediately recognised: Calum Hood from 5 Seconds of Summer. My heart skipped a beat as he offered a crooked smile.

“Y/N, this is Calum,” Ethan introduced casually, as if Calum wasn’t a global superstar.

“Hi,” I managed, hoping I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.

“Hey,” Calum said, his voice warm and inviting. “So you’re the singer Ethan’s been raving about?”

I blinked, surprised. “Uh, I guess? I’m just here for the summer.”

“From Melbourne, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Ethan’s been talking about you nonstop,” Calum said with a chuckle. “He’s convinced you’re the next big thing.”

“That’s…kind of embarrassing,” I admitted, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Calum said, his eyes locking with mine. “You should own it.”

There was something in the way he looked at me—an intensity that made the rest of the room fade away. Ethan, sensing the shift, patted Calum’s shoulder and disappeared, leaving us alone.

We spent the next hour talking, and I quickly realised that Calum was nothing like I expected. He was funny, down-to-earth, and surprisingly shy at times. We bonded over our love for music, sharing stories about our favorite gigs and the struggles of being away from home.

“Do you miss it? Australia?” he asked, leaning against the railing as we looked out at the city lights.

“Every day,” I admitted. “But being here is incredible. It’s like…anything’s possible.”

“It is,” he agreed, his voice soft. “But it’s also nice to have someone who gets it. Being far from home, I mean.”

I nodded, feeling an unspoken understanding pass between us. For the rest of the night, we were inseparable. By the time the party wound down, I couldn’t believe how quickly the hours had passed.

“Let me give you my number,” Calum said as we stood by the door, my friends waiting to leave.

“Okay,” I said, handing him my phone. My hands trembled slightly as he typed in his number and sent himself a text.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Calum.”

As I climbed into the Uber, Tasha nudged me. “What’s that smile for?”

“Nothing,” I said, biting my lip to hide the grin spreading across my face. But it was something. Something I couldn’t quite shake.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of texts and phone calls with Calum. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time to check in. It was surreal, feeling like I’d known him for years even though it had only been a week.

“What are you up to tonight?” he texted one afternoon as I lounged by the pool at our Airbnb.

“Nothing much. You?”

“Want to hang out?”

I hesitated, my heart racing. “Sure. Where?”

An hour later, Calum picked me up in his car, and we drove to the beach. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink. We walked along the shoreline, our feet sinking into the cool sand.

“This is my favorite place in LA,” he admitted, gazing out at the waves.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, breathing in the salty air. “Do you come here often?”

“Whenever I need to clear my head,” he said. “What about you? Do you have a place like this back home?”

I thought for a moment. “There’s this park in Melbourne. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s quiet. I go there to write music or just think.”

“Sounds nice. Maybe you’ll show me one day,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.

“Maybe,” I replied, my cheeks warming.

We spent hours talking, sharing stories and dreams. The connection between us felt effortless, like we were two puzzle pieces clicking into place. By the time he dropped me off, I knew this summer was going to be unforgettable.

As the weeks passed, Calum and I grew closer. We explored LA together, from hiking trails to late-night diners. Every moment felt like a scene from a movie, and I found myself falling for him more with each passing day.

One evening, we attended a small gig at a local bar. Calum had invited me to perform, and though I was nervous, his encouragement gave me the courage to get up on stage. As I sang, I caught his gaze in the crowd, his expression filled with pride and something deeper.

“You were amazing,” he said afterward, pulling me into a hug.

“Thank you. That meant a lot,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You mean a lot,” he replied, his eyes searching mine.

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that made the world stand still. It was soft and sweet, yet filled with an intensity that took my breath away. When we pulled apart, I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the night we met,” he admitted, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“I’m glad you did,” I said, my heart soaring.

The rest of the summer was a dream. We spent our days soaking up the sun and our nights talking until dawn. Calum introduced me to his friends and bandmates, who welcomed me with open arms. It felt like I’d found a second home in LA.

But as August approached, reality began to set in. My return flight to Melbourne was looming, and the thought of leaving Calum was like a weight on my chest.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said one night as we lay on a blanket under the stars.

“I don’t want to go either,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “But I have commitments back home. My music, my family…”

“I get it,” he said, his hand finding mine. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

We spent our final days together savoring every moment, knowing our time was limited. When the day of my flight arrived, Calum drove me to the airport. The goodbye was heartbreaking, tears streaming down both our faces as we held each other tightly.

“Promise me we’ll stay in touch,” he said, his voice trembling.

“I promise,” I said, my heart shattering as I walked away.

As the plane took off, I looked out at the city below, my chest aching with the loss of what could have been. But even as the miles grew between us, I knew this wasn’t the end. Calum had left a mark on my heart, and I had a feeling our story was far from over.

[planet-of-the-machines]

[Voice transcription enabled]:

>Hey class! Crosshairs again-<

+And F!+

>we-<

=hey Cross! Don't leave us out!=

>*sigh* and the rest of the bozos in my salvage team are kinda confined to the repair bay after some trouble with helping field testing brainstorm with some new munitions.<

+I got to drop bombs!+

^And got a load of fried electronics in your systems, so hold still and let me do your repairs birdbrain!^

>yeah, so some munitions were a bit volatile, so we're getting repairs. Saw the details on that blizzard, at least you've got shelter. But since you lot are stuck there, my team and I can give you some tips!<

)Play knife monopol-(

*Sounds of metal clashing on metal*

^Absolutely not! Knife monopoly is banned for a reason! Now bring that wrench back over here, moron.^

>actual first tip, investigate, but do not interfere with the local power source. Exemptions only for skilled reactor personnel.<

/second, do not go off in groups with less than four members! If someone gets stuck, you'll have at least two people to attempt rescue an a third to call for additional help!/

+oh! Don't enter enclosed spaces! My team had to scrounge a lot for supplies. We... kinda got all our wings stuck full open cause we got circuits scrambled by radiation, so we couldn't stow em. And cause of that we get stuck a lot in buildings...+

)not the only thing scrambl-*CLANG*Ow!(

>Shut it, Singe!<

^well, that explains the damages that don't match with the other munitions you clowns tested. I don't have suitable replacement parts here maybe when chromedome gets back I can negotiate some parts for those repairs.^

>okay, we'll send questions every now and then with some advice so you don't get screwed over by architecture no longer up to code. For our first question...<

+ooh! N! What do you and your team do in downtime nowadays? I've been bored cuz I'm not allowed out to fly without others out to keep an eye on me...+

>... eh that works...<

#could you all be quiet? I'm trying to get some recharge in#

- >Crosshairs<, +Serial Designation F+, =Roadbuster=, )Singe(, ^Glit^, /Cloudraker/, and #Crankcase# of Outpost 15

(Added some text flair to tell us apart)- Crosshairs

P.s. we saw the posts from Spinister. We've hooked him up with an empty petabyte hard drive so he can just shove junk data in it. We can't help em with the coma bit til chromedome is back tho. He's our coding expert.

One more thing, Brainstorm told me he's got some special weapon design he's finished testing. He wants it to be a surprise, no matter that I've told him a weapon of his design is the last thing anyone with self-preservation protocols would want to be surprised by...

...

Does using a power amplifier on the power generator count as interference?

-Bee

I believe that would be Wheeljack's area of expertise. Let's just hope you and Uzi didn't strain the electrical transformers or anything crucial.

-Boulder

BITE ME! >:(

And quit complicating my investigation!

-Uzi

I did not say that as an insult.

Also, F, how did you come across radiation? N2 mines get their name from being Non-Nuclear.

-Boulder

Outpost 15's in or near California, right? Maybe one of their earthquakes ruptured a nuclear power plant.

-Hot Rod

I find it more likely that N2 mines hadn't entirely phased out nuclear weapons...

So, anyone going with the gremlin on her little search?

-Heatwave.

Ooh, I'll go!

As for your question, F, I spend my spare time helping out throughout the outpost. It was kinda part of the deal with Mr. Kup and the council has with me. Be useful, and me and my sisters might fully integrate into the outpost.

As for what V and J do...

-N

I've been assigned remedial training courses by these toasters' barely-functioning government. To "undo the corpo brainwashing," one of them said. V has to go back to her cell after class, because apparently she ALMOST GOT HERSELF KILLED!!!

-J

Again, how was I supposed to know Doll would be spamming ctrl + copy on kitchen knives? |:(

Besides, best to stay a little distant, don'tcha think?

-V

Uh, boss? Are you sure you're doing okay?

-N

IM COMPLETELY FINE, N! I'M AS PROFESSIONAL AND UP TO GUIDELINES AS EVER!!!

-J

Take the corporate simp with you. We don't need a mental breakdown ruining the mood.

And Bee.

-Cliff

What!? I'm sorry, as much as I'd like to help Uzi, I'm not going with her! Besides, Hot Rod's not the greatest at camping stories.

-Bee

So we'll send him to replace you after a while.

Seriously, I know J tried to kill you, but you lived. H*ll, you jammed her weapons and sh*t. You can definitely take her for a while.

-Cliff

You'll be fine, Chatterbox. If she tries anything, I'll blow her to bits with my Sick as [Parental Filter activated] Railgun. So can we please get going already?

Also, what's knife monopoly? Sounds fun. >:)

-Uzi

[districtxii]

Meta: Help Rationalizing THG Worldbuilding

I originally posted this on reddit, even though I'm not really a redditor, because I've had trouble getting much traction on tumblr lately. I just made this sideblog, though, so I decided to share it just in case anyone wanted to discuss this with me.

According to the first book, all we really get about the history of the world of Panem is:

everyone kind of knows their education of history is propaganda, even if they don't have the word for it

Panem is in what used to be called North America, but an unspecified series of natural disasters and wars led to the rise of Panem's current regime

it's the 74th Annual Hunger Games, meaning that it's been somewhere about 75-80 years since the ultimate conclusion of the Rebellion of the Districts against the Capitol, implying that there was some period of time before the rebellion of the Districts and the "Dark Days" during which Panem was the seat of power that was risen up against

Before the existence of the prequel novel, I think that some of us sort of thought that this pre-Panem era might have been the dying days of the United States. However, it seems that it's pretty impossible for that to be true, given how different socially and culturally the Panem of young Coriolanus Snow.

I think it is implied that the excessive reliance upon Greco-Roman pseudo-language, nomenclature, and symbols, was part of a concerted effort on the part of those pulling the strings - people like Dr. Gaul and her ilk - to evoke certain theoretical states of being, directly and intentionally evoking panem et circenses as a mission statement and a weird if-you-know-you-know kind of dig at masses who were kept ignorant, both in and outside the Capitol. (Of course, this is really convenient when you're a YA author trying to drive home and teach a point at the same time.)

However, this had already started before the Rebellion, making it clear that the Capitol was rebuilt much in its own image, even if certain things intensified. And the Capitol of the TBOSAS movie is one that evokes both familiar imagery from the original film triology and a much harsher imagery that draws on very harsh federal and classical architecture, mixed with a kind of Soviet propaganda flavored art style and brutalism. (I'm using these words with a vague understanding of what they mean but an acknowledgment that there may be better descriptions of what I'm talking about.)

This, in turn, perplexes me, because I had sort of understood the Capitol's decadence to have been very... LA-flavored from the start. I had presumed that the Capitol had a hard time that might have more resembled starving in a resort, the way Katniss describes the situation when they're infiltrating the Capitol in Mockingjay. I had also come to the Aha moment, a couple years ago when teaching The Hunger Games (the first book) to seventh graders, that the "Capitol Accent" was a future-evolved version of verbal fry a la the Kardashians or something. I thought that the Capitol population might have been a "Hollywood Elite" run inland to the Rockies due to, I dunno, part of California falling into the sea. I thought that this might have also gone along with the idea that power is in spectacle, and there are conservative people all over who yell and scream about the Hollywood effectively being some kind of lefty shadow government, or whatever.

TBOSAS threw this perception for a loop, when one sees that the color and glitz and glamor of the Capitol, having healed and vampire-sucked the Districts for seven decades, seems to have had a weird original story with Lucy Gray and Dr. Gaul's warring colors, spectacle, and appeal.

While the Tenth Hunger Games are wiped from record as best as they can, the collective memory of Lucy Gray and how much the people started to become invested in her, along with the spectacle of the snakes, pushed and impression of a wild, freer aesthetic -- at least in terms of a first domino falling. At least, that's my current perception.

But, as described, it really challenges my prior conception of what the Capitol is, culturally speaking, and where it and the rest of Panem came from.

The Covey, also, may be an even bigger thorn in my side in this regard. I absolutely love the representation of something of my Appalachian heritage in the music that is depicted in TBOSAS. I also love the way it filters down into Katniss's story. However, the existence of the Covey also seems like something very anachronistic even for this imaginary-future timeline.

During what kind of era and circumstances where the Covey's parent generation - Lucy Gray's mother and others - existing?

Was in the the Capitol era before the Dark Days war? It must have been, right? But what came immediately before that?

The Covey seem to draw some vague flavor from pop culture perceptions of the Roma (which is kind of weird for the Appalachians but who knows and Roma can be anywhere they want), but it seems even more rooted in some kind of spiritual connection to - for example - the Carter Family becoming involved in syndication and touring with music that was previously unknown to the rest of America and the world. With Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia, being the "Birthplace of Country Music."

But that happened during the early 20th century.

One presumes that the timeline of Panem and The Hunger Games diverges from our own sometime in our own future, but has this perception on my part been wrong all along?

Is The Hunger Games universe better-perceived as something like the Fallout universe where it's sort of a nuclear-power-arms-race-punk divergent timeline well BEFORE the apocalypse that resulted in the present dystopia?

I would love to hear anyone's opinion on this, whether it's a reassurance that "just don't worry about it" is the best approach or someone who's better at worldbuilding-brain than I offering some kind of explanation - whether based on canon or fanon.

Thanks in advance for any thoughts!

[digidesignsbynicole]

parking & parallels

Ever walked through a parking garage and thought, “Wow, what a vibe”? No? Just me? Cool...........

Captured at the Irvine Spectrum in Southern California, this modern black-and-white photo serves up clean, repetitive lines and rigid structure on one side, with a little sneak peek of nature trying its best to soften the mood on the other. It’s concrete meets palm trees, hard meets soft—basically a visual representation of my entire personality. The best of both worlds.

Perfect for adding some moody architectural flair to your space while also making people question if you’re just really into parking garages.

EQUIPMENT: Canon Rebel T series DSLR edited in Lightroom

like what you see??  available as an instant digital high-res download here OR support small creatives & buy me a coffee ☕️🧡

IG nikrayphotography

[monsterkong]

Coastal Elegance Meets Modern Living 🏠✨

NEW PRICE! 1315 Alabama Street, Huntington Beach

Welcome to 1315 Alabama Street, where Cape Cod-inspired architecture and modern sophistication blend seamlessly in the heart of Huntington Beach. 🌊 This newly remodeled gem, presented by the Tim Smith Real Estate Group, offers more than a home—it offers a lifestyle defined by luxury, convenience, and the unmatched beauty of California's coastline.

Coastal Charm Starts Here

From the moment you approach the gated front patio, you’ll know this home is something special. 🏡 The space is perfect for entertaining friends, unwinding with a glass of wine, or simply soaking in the golden hour glow. Step through the classic Dutch entry door and be greeted by a thoughtfully designed single-level floorplan bathed in natural light.

Spaces That Inspire

At the heart of this 1,236-square-foot home lies an open and inviting living area. The living room, with its stylish shiplap fireplace, flows effortlessly into the dining space and the kitchen. 🍽️ With Caesarstone countertops, pristine white Shaker cabinets, and stainless steel appliances, the kitchen is a culinary haven. It’s easy to envision mornings spent sipping coffee at the counter or evenings hosting dinner parties with friends. 🍴✨

The outdoor courtyard, accessible from the main living area, is a dream come true for those who love to dine under the stars. Imagine fairy lights strung across the space, the soft sound of waves in the background, and the scent of fresh sea air—pure magic. ✨🌌

A Sanctuary for Everyone

The three bedrooms are designed with comfort and tranquility in mind. The primary suite is a private oasis featuring a walk-in closet and an en suite bath that feels like your personal spa. 🛀 The secondary bedrooms offer flexibility for a growing family, a home office, or a guest retreat.

Details That Make a Difference

This home doesn’t just look good—it’s smartly equipped for modern living. With new engineered white oak flooring, sleek modern lighting fixtures, high ceilings, and an attached two-car garage, every detail has been carefully considered. And let’s not forget the tech-savvy touches like the Ring doorbell, ensuring both security and convenience. 📱

Live the Huntington Beach Lifestyle

Situated in a prime location, this home puts you mere moments away from the best of Huntington Beach. From award-winning schools and picturesque parks to the lively energy of Pacific City and the world-famous Huntington Beach Pier, everything you need is at your fingertips. 🌴

Your Next Chapter Awaits The Tim Smith Real Estate Group understands that every home tells a story. Let us help you write yours at 1315 Alabama Street. With over $5 billion in career sales, we’re not just selling homes—we’re redefining what’s possible in luxury real estate. 🌟

For more information, visit Tim Smith Real Estate Group and explore the listing here.

These homes are ready for their next chapter—could it be yours? 🏖️✨

[raisindave]

[Chapter 33] Seeing the World Through Ballistic-Tinted Glasses

It's so reassuring to know that when life hangs in the balance during a mission's most dire moments, somewhere else in the world, absolutely nothing is happening. This was the case for Chunky when you dialled him moments after you recognized your cell phone at the bottom of your pack. When he answered, it was more than clear that he had just woken up, hearing squabbling gulls and wafting breezes flooding the device's microphone. You had made the mistake of interrupting his 14:00 hours nap on the beach, but you'd caught him precious seconds before the first drink was to enter his system. Retirement was always fashionable for him, and he wore the California beachside sunshine like he was born to it. 

He took issue with you being stationed in London after a terrorist attack that occupied every talking head newscaster back home's script for the past few days. A SAS barracks would be an ideal target for a follow-up strike, and he might be right. However, considering what you've seen in the past month, you've seen a decent success rate at surviving remote detonation charges- even when they're right next to you. 

It makes you extremely grateful that he couldn't see your face and throat right now, even when you've already seen significant healing over the past few days. Knowing him, he'd probably have a cow. He's always been so overprotective of you, but sometimes it gets to a point where you're bound to get injured, and his outrage would just be an inconvenience. If it weren't top secret, you would've loved to spill every detail about the punches you caught with your eyesocket, but it might just make his heart give out. You'd think a veteran of over five decades would be more sympathetic to workplace injuries in this field of work. He'll just never shake that mental image of you in his head of the scared 14-year-old girl you were when you first came into his care.

This recuperation was precisely what you were craving, still forcing you to be on guard in this working environment but just relaxing enough to let you catch up to your surroundings. Contemporary, sleek architecture with rich black metal and industrial wood floorings significantly improved from your last sleeping situation, though it was still far from your personal preference. These tall, angular walls and hovering square balconies crested into vast open common spaces filled with bustling cliques of crisp uniforms and neatly tied shoelaces. It had a way of making your footsteps echo down these halls louder than any place you've ever been, especially once those bright-eyed soldiers slinked into their studies.

The shooting range was surprisingly quiet at this time of day. Around 9:00, it was far too late in the morning for an early scrimmage, and most of the pupils were well into their classroom lectures by now. The echoing concrete chamber hosted a buffet of pistols, rifles, and even crossbows to take aim upon your choice of a selection of targets with varying sizes and distances. The smell of musty concrete and lingering gunpowder settled in your sinuses as you palmed a standard Glock. You're scarcely armed with much more than a pistol in your role, so this 9mm will have to be your new best friend for the next few hours until you're sufficiently sore. 

Shooting practice works muscles you didn't even know you had, like the space between your fingers being sore or the muscles just below your collarbones. With every shot reverberating through your shoulders, you felt a euphoric exhale alleviate deeply rooted anxiety with the conclusion of the anticipated blast, even with the muffled protection of these yellow headphones. A flashing siren signalled the rotation of the targets, rolling your neck to either shoulder in an effort to diffuse tensed muscles. In your turn, you caught that familiar hulking figure occupying the space beside the armoury wall. He has a talent for appearing exactly when you're seeking focus.

Slender hips leaned against a broad metal table, a dissected rifle laid with surgical accuracy, more evidence of him being an obsessive neat freak. Those stupid skeletal gloves slid along the smooth metal, inspecting for dust with his two fingers across every curve and switch on the M4. Your tongue fell heavy, oddly hypnotized. Then they were plunging into the magazine cavity, inspecting for debris in a fashion you've seen hundreds of times before. Swiping to examine every inch of the gun's inner sanctum, the stern expression on those dark eyes under that skull plate suggested he was taking this deathly seriously. Gloved knuckles buried digits past the narrow opening as they worked to swipe over the deepest extent of the chamber before he withdrew. Cool air breathed across your neck, watching him smoothly slide the dark ammo cartridge into the thoroughly inspected slot with a satisfying click. The feeling of your teeth digging into the soft tissue on the inside of your lower lip made you snap back into reality, just in time for you to dodge him looking up and noticing your rapt surveillance. 

Mechanical clinking of the paper shooting targets rotating into position snapped you back into focus while a shaky breath slipped past your tight lips. Muscle memory compelled you to do the preliminary sweep over the range before you raised your pistol, aiming the gunmetal barrel toward those coloured concentric circles. A deep inhale, hold, and squeeze the trigger on the exhale. Activating this trigger in one place makes a splintered hole manifest in the paper prey across the room, it's something that's always been such an abstract thought to you. Slightly off-mark but well within the final black circle. Textbook, though it took you a solid eight seconds, a task those burning eyes you felt on the back of your neck could do in a split second with supernatural accuracy. 

Another round of targets. A stinging pressure in your chest made your arms feel weak. Every time you squeezed the trigger, you panted air through barred teeth with dissatisfaction. Round after round after round, your shots fell progressively farther off the mark. You must've hit the point of diminishing returns, as on another dissatisfied sigh, you caught a foggy silhouette of those classic blonde bangs through the range glass. 

Sliding your Glock back onto the rack after a clean would surely satisfy Ghost, who had long since established himself at the far end of the range. Laswell stood in the viewing area, catching your eye contact with a polite wave, holding a bundle of manilla folders across the front of her pale button-up. It was a 50/50 chance that you were the one she was looking to speak to, and the other 50% would mean you could get a head start on handling your grumbling stomach. 

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Laswell called as you slipped past the swinging glass door. She invited you to sit at a small metal table with your shoulders to the broad glass wall. 

"No worries, I was just wrapping up," you cracked your knuckles to relieve aching joints. 

"Your face looks good," she noted, gesturing to the marred flesh under your eyes and cheekbones. 

It took half a mind not to say 'you too' for reasons entirely unknown to you. Laswell's been the first person to actually acknowledge your injuries in the sense that it might have an effect on your appearance. Even with her role as the impartial task deliverer from whatever faceless higher-ups compel her, there's always been this sensitivity to her. Laswell's seen all four of those boys beaten within an inch of their lives, and she still had the patience to show interest in your healing process. She must share a sympathy for you in this field where your likenesses were beyond uncommon. It's probably why she spurred Gaz and Soap to make you that apology birthday cake back in Chita after they scorned you. Or, perhaps she's just the first person who doesn't immediately ridicule and/or tease you as soon as they lay eyes on you. An intense stare and deep frown lines suggested a long commitment to this high-stakes career. It's funny how people's faces tell such a vivid story of what they've come from.

"I've been craving oranges like you wouldn't believe," you smiled.

"That's your body telling you that it's in a rush to get better," she laughed harder than you would've expected. "The boys are headed out to a new position in an hour, but for now, we'll have you hang back here." 

"Yes, ma'am."

"You won't be here long, though. We'll have you on standby with us after we set up a perimeter," she said plainly, knitting her fingers together on the table.

"Seems pretty useful to have a linguist in your back pocket," you added.

"Exactly." 

Her pushing back her squealing chair suggested this discussion had concluded, her arm hooking under the neatly stacked pile of papers and folders, hugging them to her chest again. Without question, the next stop was an ice-cold shower back in your room, and maybe you'll find a quiet space in the library for some study for the rest of the day. Muffled pops from behind ballistic glass fought for attention over your concentration as you reminded yourself which direction led to your dormitory. 

"-and Lua," she paused, waiting for you to turn over your shoulder to catch her gaze one last time. "Excellent work on that last mission." 

A warm smile pulled at your cheeks, nodding dutifully as you folded your hands behind your back. If she only knew how reassuring those words were for you, as only a few weeks ago, you were certain your employment was terminated. It seems that being in Laswell's good graces requires back-breaking flexibility and a penchant for self-destruction. 

Being served warm meals is nice, but access to hot showers is what really makes this place seem more like a hotel with every passing day. Paired with a library with no business being so well equipped with cutting-edge linguistic case studies and theory, you were more than set to be stimulated for the next few weeks. It takes a bit of getting used to having so much top-secret information rattling around in your brain, making you shudder at the thought of whether sleep-talking might make you unveil nuclear codes or vital coordinates. The downside to these black-and-white modern art exhibit of a complex meant that every day felt like a waking daydream, blending each day into the other. Even with gigantic windows on nearly every surface, the day-night cycle did little to soothe your creeping restlessness.

Another shower. Now, there's no time limit or shouting Captain to remind you to wrap up your allotted water usage. In the quiet of your private cubicle bathroom, despite the fact that you could only barely spread your arms fully, this was your sanctuary. Cool droplets slid down radioactive skin, though this time, this shower was just a formality. It had no inherent purpose to strip the day's grime from your skin. Your earlier shower handled that. This shower was a different kind of cleanse. A reality cleanse. A factory reset of your sense of self. What the fuck were those thoughts that surged into your mind in the range earlier? Unexpected thoughts. Twisted thoughts. Thoughts that make your eyelids fall heavy and your breath hitch. You plunge your face into the frigid stream, sputtering and coughing as icy water surges into your sinuses. 

You didn't get a chance to send off the boys, or give Soap one last closing chirp before he left. Disappointing, though as Laswell said, they'd call you in sometime soon. It could be days before you're thrust into another bustling airport, so you might as well take advantage of any precious quiet time you could find. You found this one nook at the back of the library that was an immediate favourite. It had cheeky graffiti from edgy recruits and crude drawings of genitalia, entirely lacking finesse, but still somehow uniquely charming in its absurdity. Booth cushions felt more like bus seats, meaning you'd have to adjust your posture after an hour of reading, but it was an excellent way to pass the time. 

Days slipped by, and you buried yourself in self-prescribed studies. With a trade so focused on problem-solving, it's handy to review how other linguists handle impossible situations under brutal pressure. Case studies of catastrophic World War miscommunications that left a fleet at the bottom of the Atlantic, and a time a lone linguist doomed a small Hawaiian hamlet to Japanese bombings because of a minor mistranscription. All are tools to be slotted into your mental toolbox, just another key in your loop. Occasionally redundant, at times humorous, but more often than not, these cases provided key situational skills that could change the game on a future mission.

Deep red and blue bruises under your eyes slowly stabilized into rich yellow brushstrokes that swept across your cheeks. The pain had long dissipated, even permitting you to rest your weight on your previously wounded thigh when you curled into your booth. So long as you have Laswell's flip phone in your back pocket, you have no reason not to be allowed to explore the cobbled streets under a rare blue sky. Dancing ivy caressed the sides of tall brick townhouses and pruned hedges daring to creep into the expanse of the cracked sidewalks. 

Bouncing kids in ties and blazers sprung past you on their way to school, swinging clanging metal lunchboxes with every step. Kicking stones past pointed ironwork fences, you inhaled deep. The food here was terrible, and the weather was worse, but at least there wasn't a six-lane highway tearing through those lazy plazas of boutiques and pubs. Scripted trees plotted in designated holes lined the paths you walked with a tidy yet rustic charm.

By the time your injuries were a recent memory, a buzz at your phone summoned you to your duty. Laswell's crackling voice implored you to take advantage of your last night at the barracks before you set off to the military airbase just a few blocks away in the early morning. The flight would bring you to Syria. That confession left you spending those last precious hours in a plush bed staring at the ceiling, familiarizing yourself with Arabic. This time, there was no 10-day scramble to learn the language. This was a tongue you were more than comfortable with, one you'd picked up early on in your career. With that knowledge, you are at least partially at ease before you're again off to the races. 

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Lua practicing her Russian after watching Ghost finger-blast an assault rifle in the shooting range: link

Master List

[studioahead]

Barbara Stauffacher Solomon: Northern California Legacy Spotlight

Last April, just before her death at 95, we had the privilege to interview Barbara Stauffacher Solomon, the trailblazing landscape architect and artist best known for her supergraphics inside Sea Ranch. Solomon, or “Bobbie” as everyone called her, was much more than her famous graphics, as her daughter Nellie, who helped parlay our questions to Bobbie, emphasizes.

Nellie King Solomon is an artist in her own right, whose gorgeous abstract paintings almost match the vibrancy of Nellie herself. We spoke with the two of them about memory and landscape, about love and what each has learned from the other, and about looking back on a life well-lived. Nellie’s daughter Fia joined in.

A few months after Bobbie's death, we revisited Nellie to ask what her mom’s legacy might be. 

Studio AHEAD: Did California’s landscape influence your work once you returned from Switzerland?

Bobbie: It was the freedom of being a California woman that influenced you more than the landscape. Being in California as a woman was very different than being in Switzerland as a woman. I could do anything I wanted.

Nellie: I feel you, too, about the California woman thing and the freedom here having worked and lived in Europe and New York. I’ve come back to California multiple times as a result. There are hard-to-describe unspoken freedoms that are unheard of elsewhere. Even in New York. I would do things and be dismissed as “Californian”: make a drawing a certain way, have a different relationship to abstraction. At Cooper Union I would jump on top of my drafting table just so I could get a good look at my drawing from a distance. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world! Definitely a California move.

I would spend the weekends at Martha’s Vineyard looking at a seashell, stoned, and come back Tuesday morning with clear ideas about what I was going to draw for afternoon critique—that was a very different way of going about it. Slaving all weekend and sleeping under your desk was the East Coast Cooper way. Not for me. Go jump in some water and look at seashell instead.

Bobbie: About architecture, I see the corners of buildings and how they relate to each other. Supergraphics is all about relating everything to the corners. It never works having to do a computer printout ahead of time. It doesn’t work because it’s all about tying the graphics to the corners, which is on site. The architecture tells you what to do.

Studio AHEAD: The contrast between the colorful, geometric quality of Sea Ranch’s Supergraphics and the rolling hills and waves of Sonoma is very striking. Was this on purpose?

Bobbie: I didn’t want it to stick out. I didn’t want it to be more visible than the landscape itself. Well, it is but it’s indoors.

Nellie: You were doing the Supergraphics indoors so that it wouldn’t stand out against the land and look obnoxious. That’s why there’s all those rules up there at Sea Ranch—that whole dictatorial handbook that comes with the property that says don’t plant a rose or do Supergraphics outdoors. Your stuff is brazen but it’s inside.

Bobbie: Like once I was teaching at Sitka, Alaska and a woman wanted me to paint the main street with Supergraphics—this little town. I said “No!” with vengeance.

Nellie: I remember the walk through the forest and the ancient weathered totem poles and you would let the students paint inside the ugly fluorescent lit hallways. You wouldn’t let them paint outside in the beautiful quiet forest.

Studio AHEAD: What is one of your works that you’d wish had gotten more attention?

Bobbie: Graphics at the San Francisco Museum. It’s the biggest artwork in the museum that a woman has ever been allowed to make. And what does that mean? There really hasn’t been any press.

Nellie: And you’ve been annoyed about that. It’s bigger than a football field, and stronger in a way.

Studio AHEAD: Nellie, you help your mom with these large installations. What have you learned from her?

Nellie: Be big, bold, and beautiful. Be brazen. Think of the whole space and really go for it. These are all things that come in the territory of helping my mom do what she does. They definitely have rubbed off on me. To think of things from the perspective of the negative space, as opposed to the positive space, that’s a more formal quality. I think of the principles that she learned from Armin Hoffman. What I absorbed in watching her put together and draw Green Architecture and the Agrarian Garden when I was in fifth grade. So many gardens Bobbie and I snuck into all over the world. That there’s a certain irreverence and physical relationship to space and making that I’ve adopted from working with her.

I learned a lot of stuff from her and that would be very hard to figure out. It’s like untangling pantyhose that has been in a drawer forever. It’s all tangled up. And then some stuff I learned from Cooper Union and then some stuff I learned from Hoffman. I mean where does one education start and another education begin? What stuff did you learn from which grandmother or which parent? These influences are all different voices mixed together and yet when you get in your studio—there’s a great quote—when you close the door to your studio, you have to kick out all the voices and then begin.

Studio AHEAD: Bobbie, what has Nellie taught you?

Bobbie: What has Nellie taught me when you have a kid you love? You just learn how to try and make them happy.

Studio AHEAD: Fia, what’s going to be your medium of choice?

Fia: I'm a singer-songwriter, writer, and aspiring actress. I have an idea. I think that the youngest one should ask a question to the oldest one. I want to ask Bobbie, Why is your imagination at the end of life so opposite to your work?

Bobbie: You smart little thing!

* * *

Nellie: At the end Bobbie saw all of these romantic, fanciful, green, growing vines all over the ceilings and over the whole house. At one point the house turned into a hot-fudge sundae with different shades of light, dark, and milk chocolate for all the shadows. All these romantic and wild, elaborate visions would appear over the white walls of the clean, modernist house where she lived. Entirely opposite to the stark hard-edged graphics she was known for. That’s why Fia asked her question and why Bobbie knew it was wise.

Bobbie always loved the “schmaltzy” as she would call it. The romantic gardens, the formal gardens, the Tuileries, France, Turner Classic movies, Hollywood plots. When we wheeled her up to the entrance of SFMoMA to see her Strips of Stripes exhibition from the revolving doors, there was, flanking her work, two large Julie Mehretu works: “Ah, those are real art. The kind of stuff I would’ve made if I didn’t have to make money.”

As she lay dying in a magical space, her imagination ran wild on the stark white ceiling. She was enveloped in a romantic fantasy, ever-changing, constantly urgent to describe it to me, or anyone who would listen, as she slipped between worlds.

* * *

Studio AHEAD: What do you think your mom's legacy will be?

Nellie: There’s a chance that Bobbie’s Northern California legacy continues to be Sea Ranch. Bobbie does not see herself as defined by Sea Ranch at all. She is much more interested in her books and her continual evolution. Bobbie has a much more complex legacy than that one early project. She has multiple voices: hard-edge Supergraphics, complex books like Good Mourning California, the Green Architecture and the Agrarian Garden landscape drawings in the 80s.

She continually reinvented herself. Which made it tricky to pigeonhole her into a discipline or a style for a final summation, but it’s also her brilliance. In a 1968 Vogue issue, Bobbie (and her friend, the film critic Pauline Kael) were named “two of the 20 (?) women most in touch with her times.” Bobbie continually stayed “in touch with her times” by evolving with the times.

Studio AHEAD: What has been the reaction since her passing?

Nellie: People’s reaction is with a certain sense that Bobbie is immortal. It’s a funny thing. A dealer she worked with said “it seemed like she would never die. She couldn’t.” Even as she got old, she said “who you calling old?” Fia and I have decided not to refer to Bobbie in the past tense. We refer to her in the present tense. “Bobbie is” as opposed to “Bobbie was.”

There’s an outpouring of caring. It makes me want to invite everyone to be together in her honor, and onward. Bobbie lives in us. Bobbie is not at all gone.

“To be is not to know what to be”—this is one of my favorite things she wrote. If she is not being, then she now IS. Perhaps this is why galleries prefer to represent estate artists. Quantifiable only after death.

Photos: Ekaterina Izmestieva

[theaestheticmerchant]

tbh the mechanics of sunnydale (and central california) are unfortunately something i'm happy/proud to replicate with the mechnics of grimstead in solemn graces, where at any given time, you could be:

in the middle of a cluttered victorian village

on the streets of modern suburban neighborhood where all the houses are the same Except One

in farmland where everything is dry and horrible

in the best theme park ever that's simultaneously also the worst

in a brutalist factory landscape where cement and metal are your only friends

by the shore of a cozy fishing village with a lighthouse and a sea monster

in the middle of nowhere with nothing but crossroads and passing semi-trucks

at the foot of a hill supporting an ancient castle that houses ghosts and vampires

in the middle of a swamp that houses witches, bog-monstersz and crumbling plantations

in a small town of only 1300 people that spans several miles and constantly has more housing and businesses

at the heart of a populous downtown area where there's always a street fair and vampires come to roost

at an arcade, a motel, or the only bar in town where no one else is because they're all at the only other only arcade, motel, or bar in town and you just happened to choose the wrong one that night

the loneliest cemetery that has no one buried there and yet no one ever goes there despite everyone who dies being buried there

in a town that's called grimstead and has 30000 people in it one day, in a town called grimshaw and has 1300 people the next, or a neighborhood called twisted oaks that's never seen the touch of victorian architecture and knows only what the misguided house-builders in the 50s thought might make for decent house features while replicating the same designs infinitely for ease of construction