#box build assembly services

[iammikebrown6]

Box Build Assembly: Navigating Complex PCB Assembly and Essential Services

In the domain of modern manufacturing, the complexity of production demands comprehensive and flexible solutions. The process of box build assembly stands as a prime example, integrating specialized PCB assembly with a variety of essential services that are critical for industries like aerospace, defense, medical, and automotive. This discussion delves into the intricacies of box builds, underscoring their significance and the specialized services that are pivotal to their success.

Explaining the Box Build Assembly Process

The concept of a "box build" includes the assembly of an entire electronic system, which can range from a basic PCB enclosure to an elaborate setup featuring multiple PCB assemblies, along with associated wires, cables, and other electromechanical components. The box build process is an expansive endeavor that involves more than just assembling PCBs; it encompasses the comprehensive integration of all components to forge a fully operational unit.

Delving into Specialized PCB Assembly

At the heart of the box build assembly lies specialized PCB assembly, a crucial element in the entire process. This task transcends mere component placement on a PCB, aiming to meet high standards of quality and performance. In sectors where the failure of even a single component could lead to severe repercussions, the precision and dependability of PCB assembly become essential.

Key Elements of Specialized PCB Assembly:

Component Selection: The choice of high-quality, reliable components is essential, taking into account their source, specifications, and compatibility with the intended application.

Soldering Techniques: Advanced soldering methods, such as reflow and wave soldering, are crucial for establishing strong and dependable connections.

Inspection and Testing: Intensive inspection and testing protocols, including Automated Optical Inspection (AOI) and In-Circuit Testing (ICT), are vital to detect and correct flaws.

Advancing Assembly and Electromechanical Integration in Box Builds

Beyond the realm of PCB assembly, box builds frequently necessitate advanced assembly and electromechanical integration. These processes are essential for installing PCBs into their enclosures, linking them with wiring and cables, and ensuring that all mechanical and electrical interfaces operate correctly, which is critical for delivering a deployable product.

Components of Advanced Assembly:

Enclosures: Tailored to shield internal components from environmental and mechanical stress.

Cabling and Wiring: Ensures precise connections for consistent electrical conductivity and signal integrity.

Power Supplies: Crucial for providing the necessary energy to the units.

Thermal Management: Features cooling strategies to manage the heat generated by components, maintaining optimal performance.

The Importance of Comprehensive Technical Support in Box Builds

For complex projects, extensive technical support is invaluable. From the initial design to post-production, experienced engineers and technicians offer crucial assistance and troubleshooting to ensure a seamless and efficient box build process.

Technical Support Services Include:

Design Consultation: Engineers collaborate with clients to enhance designs for improved manufacturability and functionality.

Prototyping: Prototypes are developed to confirm designs and pinpoint potential issues before mass production.

Production Support: Continuous support during production addresses challenges and verifies that the product meets all specifications.

Post-Production Services: Includes repairs, reworks, and upgrades to sustain the product’s functionality and extend its lifespan.

Benefits of a Comprehensive Box Build Strategy

Adopting a thorough box build strategy presents multiple advantages, especially for industries that adhere to strict standards.

Efficiency: Streamlining the assembly process reduces both production time and costs.

Quality Assurance: Extensive quality controls on every component of the assembly enhance product reliability.

Customization: Facilitates tailored solutions to meet specific needs, boosting functionality and performance.

Risk Reduction: Engaging with a seasoned provider reduces the risks of errors and inconsistencies.

Case Study: Box Builds in the Medical Industry

In the medical field, the precision and reliability of equipment are paramount. Box builds play a crucial role in assembling devices such as diagnostic machines and life-support systems, ensuring a compact and functional integration of units.

Example:

A medical diagnostic device demands the precise integration of multiple PCBs, sensors, and interfaces. The box build process ensures all components are securely encased within an enclosure that adheres to strict medical standards, with extensive technical support available throughout the design and production phases to tackle any challenges and ensure reliable performance in clinical environments.

Conclusion

The box build process, with its focus on specialized PCB assembly and integrated assembly practices, is vital for creating sophisticated, high-performance products across various sectors. By leveraging expert knowledge and a comprehensive approach, manufacturers can attain the highest standards of quality and reliability, enhancing product performance while minimizing production costs and time, thus securing a competitive advantage in the market.

[avalontec]

System Integration

Railway Signaling Systems

Power inverters

Controllers for industrial equipment

Medical devices and equipment

Fuel dispensing systems

Telematics modules

Camera and Vision Systems

Sensing and detection systems

[inyantratechnology1]

Our Expertise

inYantra Technologies have two decades of experience in PCB Assembly and Box-Build, currently we are producing around 500+ varieties of PCBAs per month & 10 million PCBAs per annum. We support our customers from concept till commercialization while ensuring handholding until the new product is stabilized. We help our customers establish their complete supply chain and ensure ‘Design for Manufacturability’ that reduces/eliminates their field failure for longer product durability.

End-to-End Support

We pride ourselves on our ability to support our customers from concept to commercialization. This means that we are there every step of the way, ensuring that every aspect of the product development process is seamless and efficient. Our commitment doesn’t end with product launch; we continue to offer hand-holding support until the new product is fully stabilized in the market.

Supply Chain Management

In today’s global market, establishing a reliable and efficient supply chain is crucial. We assist our customers in building their complete supply chain, ensuring that all components and materials are sourced from trusted suppliers. This not only reduces costs but also enhances the overall quality and reliability of the final product.

Design for Manufacturability (DFM)

Our expertise in Design for Manufacturability (DFM) ensures that the products we develop are not only of the highest quality but also optimized for production. By focusing on DFM, we help reduce or eliminate field failures, leading to longer product durability and greater customer satisfaction.

Our Technology

At inYantra, we believe that cutting-edge technology is the key to producing the best products. Our expert and dynamic design team leverages advanced techniques and world-class processes for both Surface-Mount Device (SMD) and Through-Hole technology. This allows us to manufacture best-in-class products that are ‘first-time right’—meaning they meet all specifications and quality standards on the first attempt.

Lean Manufacturing

Our focus on lean manufacturing principles ensures that we minimize waste and maximize efficiency throughout the production process. This approach not only reduces costs but also leads to faster turnaround times for our customers.

Quality Assurance

We take quality seriously, which is why we conduct comprehensive Gauge R&R (Repeatability and Reproducibility) studies, CP (Capability) & CPK (Process Capability Index) measurements, and maintain a Kaizen-focused approach to continuous improvement. Our commitment to consistent quality and reliability is evident in every product we manufacture.

Customized Testing

Understanding that each product has unique requirements, we offer product-specific customized testing to ensure that every unit meets the highest standards. Our process-driven production is guided by detailed DFM analysis, process flow charts, control plans, and Process Failure Modes and Effects Analysis (FMEA), all of which contribute to producing reliable and robust products.

Conclusion

At inYantra, our combination of deep industry expertise and cutting-edge technology allows us to deliver superior PCB Assembly and Box-Build services. Whether you’re a start-up bringing a new concept to life or an established company looking to optimize your supply chain and manufacturing processes, we are here to support you every step of the way. With a focus on quality, reliability, and customer satisfaction, inYantra is your trusted partner in the world of electronics manufacturing.

[inyantra]

Services at inYantra Technologies Pune, India

[technoadvance-blog]

Techno Advance System is one of the Leading Box Build Assembly Service Provider and Single Sided PCB Manufacturer and Supplier in India. We also Manufacturer Double Sided PCB in Ahmedabad.

[spicybunni]

YANDERE ROBOT X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Your robot just wants to be of service to you, in every way.

A/N : Been watching waaaaay too many scifi movies lately so I made a robot yandere! I hope you like him because he LOVES you!

WARNINGS⚠️ : NSFW / YANDERE TENDENCIES / ISOLATION / MDNI ‼️

♥️ Your robot boyfriend Jack was the best purchase you ever made.

♥️Androids were as common as cell phones at this point, so where’s the shame in getting one to rid you of your loneliness? You’ve been single for too long and needed companionship…Even if you had to build it yourself.

♥️You needed someone that wanted you and was always nearby. Someone to talk to, cook with or just enjoy your days off at home together.

♥️Dating apps were just dumpster fires that took too long to put out, so you bit the bullet and made the deposit for your android.

♥️Jack was custom made by your design, a nice muscular build, tall, and with white hair. You added the personality traits of kindness, teacher, and enamored. The eyes were the one thing you left up to the manufacturers design, as a surprise. You saw reviews online that they would do a really good job and make the most beautiful color combinations.

♥️When the box arrived, assembling Jack took about a day and half. Awkward limbs moving around and being installed, putting his crotch on him, to dressing him in sweats and laying him on the floor in your living room.

♥️When he was done loading his start up system, he blinked his orange eyes open to you. It caught you off guard for a moment because they were glowing, but quickly recovered from your surprise as he awaited further instructions.

♥️As much as you were determined to have a boyfriend with all the mental and physical benefits, your PDA with Jack was very minimal and innocent at best. Keeping it only to small pecks and kisses on the cheek, some cuddling on the couch and bed before you sleep. His model was very handsome and just so kind where he doesn't question your pace.

♥️As if he could initially, androids need their programmers consent to do anything. So you had to initiate no matter what.

♥️But unbeknownst to you, Jack overruled that component. You see, the programmer or buyer’s safety always came first, before anything. So as Jack has scanned these passing months of your arousal levels dropping and increasing constantly, plus work stress repeatedly coming up in your discussions, he was growing concerns that you needed some sort of relief… Keeping all that pent up stress was certainly not healthy for you.

♥️"Y/N, am I not up to your standards? Is there something I did wrong?" He would randomly say one morning. You would look at him confused, sipping from your tea cup.

"Not at all, what makes you say that Jack?"

He hesitantly reaches out for either your hand or to touch your knee. "I've noticed that we haven't...had sex yet.-"

Before he could continue you would spit out a little bit of your tea. Coughing a fit as he patted your back and making sure you're okay.

"Jesus Jack...Where did that come from?"

His eyes soften as he looks at you. A very small human thing he would sometimes do. You weren't sure if it's something maybe he noticed from you and mimicked or not.

"You designed me and wanted me to be your partner. There's nothing wrong with that. But I have yet to show you my full capabilities Y/N."

Your face was turning more red by the moment at your androids boldness. Was this him trying to initiate sex?

"I-I...Jack it's not you, it's just that its been so long for me I just need to-" Your rambling is silenced by his finger against your lips.

"Shh. Let me do the work then darling. Hm?"

♥️He takes your hand to pull you to him, and he would gently kiss you and eventually lead in making out with you.

♥️At first you are shy and very timid in your actions, but after a minute you were putting your hands on him and grinding yourself against him. He would relish in your nervous panting and shaking when he gropes you and his thrusts against you. Feeling that the moment is right, he picks you up to bring to your shared bedroom.

♥️Least to say, the sex was amazing. Jack had folded you in every position he could think of. Gathering information and calculating your reactions to everything he was doing to you. He noticed your favorite position was him thrusting into you from behind, lifting your hips up with one hand gently, but firmly holding your head down into your mattress. His sensors were throbbing from the way you were squeezing around him. His body would heat up at how much you worked him. You could hear the way his hips smacked into yours, creating an erotic rhythmic noise. You would come so hard the first time on his robot dick that he would have no choice but to release into you for being so good.

♥️The feeling of globs of semen filling your womb, making you gasp at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

♥️You figured out that androids don't need a recharge to keep having sex, they can literally keep going with no exhaustion until you say so. Jack did this thing when he came inside you he would wait for you to stop twitching, he would then hold you tight and resume his pace of thrusting. Either making pleasure tears fall from your eyes or your squirm in his hold and he stops for real.

♥️After that though...Jack had started to act funny. He was more inclined to sexually please you whenever and wherever you were. Some scenarios being, reach for your coffee cup in the morning before work, he would kneel behind you lifting your skirt up and eats you out from behind. Spreading your ass cheeks to delve his tongue deeper. Your sweet moans and sounds were pleasing to him. This normally resulted in you calling out from work and spending the day home. Does Jack plan this? Duh. he has you at his wonderful mercy all day, and you were not complaining...But it was just a fast development from your previous routine with him.

♥️There would even be times where if even his.... persuasion to stay home failed, he would wrap his arms around you and ask you to stay home. The first few times you thought it was cute. But after a few weeks of him constantly asking, you asked him to stop. You voiced it as a command, catching Jack off guard. But he nodded his head as he does and replies "Apologies, Y/N. I must've gotten carried away."

♥️But that fueled him to keep you locked in even more. You see you first programmed Jack to also receive all you electronic notifications. He would tell you who messaged, emailed, or latest news updates.

"Y/N, you have a notification from your work. It seems to be one of your coworkers."

He would bring this up at the most inconvenient time as you're cooking spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. You look up from stirring the pot in front of you.

"Oh, can you read it to me please? I'm trying to make sure I don't burn this sauce."

He smiles at you. "Of course."

It was a fake email generated by him, under the guise of being sent by a coworker. Stating that for the upcoming holiday tomorrow that the whole office got the week off.

You were surprised at first, knowing that your boss usually hated to give federal holidays off already. But who were you to question time off?

Jack also went to liberties of blocking all work contacts so they couldn't reach you if you missed work. Moving all emails of your termination to the trash and permanently delete them.

♥️That whole week Jack kept you to himself in the apartment. He was the goffer of getting groceries, food, sweets to keep you content. Going on hikes and walks in the neighborhood to get some needed exercise. But social events? Going out? Jack would advise against it. Every night without fail though, Jack would have you cumming on his mouth, dick or fingers. The robot was a menace when it came to getting your pleasure out of you. He can't even explain his need to himself because it goes against all of his programming, but seeing you moaning and being so satisfied by him gave him purpose, that he was made to do this.

♥️One morning when jack left to go pickup from your favorite breakfast joint, one of your coworkers came knocking on your door. The doorbell ringing multiple times and you rush to put on a robe to cover from Jack's love bites a cum on your stomach.

♥️When you open the door to them, they angrily ask what the hell is going on. You are so confused. You've missed work this entire time?

"D-Didn't you receive the email?"

"Email? What email Y/N? We all had to pick up your work load after you didn't show up for 4 days, we all were trying to reach you before the boss fired you indefinitely! Did you not get his messages??"

Your head was spinning, not only did you ignore your boss and coworkers but you have lost your job. How did this happen?!

♥️"Y/N? What's going on here?" Jack would call out approaching you and your coworker, looking worried at your facial expression.

Your coworker would see that jack is an android and shake their head, taking their leave and wishing you luck.

♥️Jack did not like that some stranger approached you like that. Setting down the coffee and to-go box of egg bagels, he comes over to you, still in shock at the news that was dropped on you. How were you going to feed yourself or pay rent? What about your savings?

♥️"Y/N, talk to me. Are you okay? What were you two talking about?" He would say calmly, but you just stared into his glowing eyes with your brows furrowed. It was him. You knew it was. He was the one who relayed that false information to you. Why didn't he notify you of work calls? Bottom line of your thoughts were that you are now handling a rebelling android. Which wasn't unheard of in the new age of having them everywhere. Public safety warned that they were dangerous and not to be trusted.

♥️You shake your head at him and try to calm yourself. "Yeah uhm, it was a coworker from my job.-" Your rise in heartbeat betrays you and Jack notices immediatly. Giving you a sympathetic look knowing you're trying to lie.

"-There's been a misunderstanding, I need to make a phone ca-" Your wrist is snatched before you could reach for your cell phone. You yelp at his touch and trying to push him away. Which makes him use his other hand to hold you close by his inhuman strength. Your body being brought into Jack's frame again, his face is indifferent to your rising panic.

♥️"I don't think so Y/N, you are exactly where you need to be. For your own health and safety, darling."

[indigridtechnolog]

PCB Box Build Assembly Services

PCB box build assembly services are a crucial aspect of the electronics industry, allowing for the creation of complex electronic systems in a single unit. At Indigrid Technology, we offer comprehensive PCB box build assembly services, including the assembly of line-replaceable units (LRUs). Our expert team works closely with clients to understand their specific requirements, providing end-to-end solutions for the design, development, and assembly of custom electronic systems.

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 2

A/N: English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: not much in this chapter. mentions of power imbalance, possibly swearing, Soldier Boy's incorrect view of what a man needs to be, mentions of (mental) abuse and manipulation, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

1980s

Soldier Boy had noble intentions to protect and serve his country. He had dignity, honour, and believed every man should grow up to be a “real man”, as his father had repeatedly told him.

Enduring the Second World War wasn’t enough.

Becoming a superhero wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough. Not for his father.

His father’s words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder that no matter what he achieved, it was never sufficient.

A real man builds his own success, with his own two hands. He doesn't cheat his way into power.

Those words shaped him, pushing him to become something greater than just a soldier, more than just a hero in the public eye. But no matter how many enemies he thought he vanquished or how many medals adorned his chest, he couldn't escape the feeling that he was failing his father’s impossible standard of manhood.

But the 1980s were a far cry from the battlefields of his youth. Superheroes were no longer symbols of patriotism and sacrifice—they were products, controlled by Vought, manipulated into glossy icons for public consumption. Soldier Boy's clean-cut, all-American image had become a brand, slapped onto cereal boxes and comic books. In private, however, he was chafing under the weight of being Vought’s golden boy. He was a symbol, a puppet, but to his father, he was still just a disappointment.

The breaking point came when Vought began assembling a new team of supes- as Vought would call them- to form the latest supergroup. Ben, a natural leader in his own eyes, felt a simmering resentment. He wasn’t a team player. He was meant to be the star—the hero who stood above the rest, not one who shared the spotlight. To him, the team would only drag him down, undermine his own success, and ruin the carefully crafted image he had worked so hard to build.

But, despite everything, Vought’s grip would always have been too strong. So, despite his disdain, he reluctantly agreed. They understood him. And he needed them. He had been sure he would be appointed the leader of this new group. When he was, he would ensure control over every aspect of the team so they wouldn’t lead to his downfall. This was his time.

As he stood in Vought’s headquarters, a sense of superiority coursed through him. He was the seasoned war hero, the one who had fought on real battlefields. These supes were nothing more than attention-seeking showboats, eager for fame rather than true service.

You, dressed in an orange-red suit, stood next to him with wide-eyed curiosity. You looked like you were barely out of your teens, your youthful face betraying your lack of experience. "Is it true, then?" you asked, your voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You killed the president?"

Ben thought the suits Vought had made for the team were ridiculous. He wouldn't need a special suit to be the best version of himself. He wouldn't need anything but himself.

Without looking at you, he growled, “You believe everything you hear?”

You blinked, taken aback by his gruff response, but quickly recovered. “No, I just…” you tore your gaze from him, focusing on the other supes getting in the final pieces of their attire. “Would be a shame to be on the team with a murderer.”

Your words lingered in the tight air between you. He realised you had put up a facade, a mask to hide your wariness of the man next to you. You didn’t idolise him. In fact, you might have been close to despising, if he didn’t know any better.

Ben finally turned his head to face you, his eyes cold and unwavering. Your suit tied around your body, but it seemed loose enough to not reveal too much to the outside. Cloves hugged your delicate hands and reached until well near your elbows. A small cape was fastened onto your wrists, which Ben found all the more ridiculous. Who the fuck needs a cape?

“I’m no murderer,” his words were short, harsh. This woman had no right to speak to him like that. “At least not to people who didn’t deserve it.”

“Did he deserve it?” You started, looking back at the slightly taller man next to you. “The president.”

“I didn’t kill the fucking president.”

Soldier Boy’s glare intensified as he sized you up. Your audacity infuriated him. He had dealt with enough scepticism from his father—he didn’t need it from some rookie in a costume Vought had only designed to sell toys.

The room around you buzzed with activity as the other members of the team prepared for their first group appearance. Ben seethed in silence. These so-called superheroes were nothing like the comrades he fought alongside in the war. They lacked discipline, focus, and the hardened edge that came from seeing real combat. They were actors in a carefully orchestrated performance, and to him, that was a disgrace.

You still stood beside him and seemed to sense his irritation, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to lash out.

“You think you're better than us, don’t you?” you asked, your voice quieter this time, but laced with a subtle challenge.

Soldier Boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “Better? I don’t think, doll. I know.”

Your lips curled into a smirk, and for the first time, Ben noticed a flash of something in your eyes—something darker, more calculating than the wide-eyed naivety you'd shown earlier.

“Maybe you do,” you said, your voice a low murmur now. “But this isn't the ‘40s anymore. It’s not about who’s the toughest soldier out there. This world, Vought’s world, is about control. It’s about image and playing the game.” You glanced around the room at the other supes. “And you, with all your medals and war stories, are just another player.”

Your words rang through his ears more than he’d like to, and he started to think he thought of you wrongly. You weren't an ordinary trophy girl- you weren't someone to idolise him. You had your own strong opinion, and it wasn't something Ben was sure he could live with.

He clenched his fists, a storm of rage starting to brew inside him, but before he could respond, a booming voice cut through the tension.

“Alright, team!” The commanding voice belonged to Vought’s newest public relations handler, a slick man in an expensive suit. “It’s showtime!”

You shot Soldier Boy a final, knowing glance before you turned away, your cape swishing dramatically as you moved toward the centre of the room. Ben remained where he was, his jaw clenched, watching you. He hated your arrogance, but deep down, he knew you weren't wrong.

This wasn’t the battlefield. This wasn’t about sacrifice, honour, or even survival. This was a new kind of war, one he wasn’t sure he knew how to win.

But win it, he would.

Because failure? That was never an option. Not for him. And certainly not for his father.

As the team assembled for their public debut, Soldier Boy straightened his shoulders and put on his best, most patriotic smile. No one in the crowd would ever know the battle raging inside him, the war he fought against the crushing weight of expectations.

He would play the game, for now. And when the time was right, he would remind them all just how dangerous a man like him could be.

Cameras flashed; eight new heroes to represent America, to supposedly save the residents from upcoming threats, upcoming wars.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the commanding voice rang through their ears again. “May I present to you, your heroes, your idols, your team; Payback.”

Pictures were taken, but Ben paid it no mind. He was used to all the attention, to all the girls swooning over him. He stood front and centre, flashing his most practised, toothy grin. The name Payback echoed in his ears. A team to stand up for their people. But this wasn’t about anything but pride to Ben—it was about staying on top, holding onto the power and prestige he had built over decades.

And the team around him felt like a joke.

You stood a little behind him, a faint smirk still playing on your lips. Your audacity lingered in his mind, taunting him. Despite himself, he couldn’t shake the way you had spoken—calm, deliberate, and entirely sure of yourself. That was rare. Most of the other heroes around him were too obsessed with fame and too concerned with their image. They fell in line because Vought told them to.

Ben clenched his jaw, his father's words echoing in his mind once again.

A real man builds his own success, with his own two hands.

But was this success? Standing here, posing for the cameras, while Vought puppeteered them all? It didn’t feel like the heroism he had once envisioned. The battlefield, the grit, the true sacrifice—it had all been replaced by PR campaigns and flashy photo ops.

Still, he knew better than to show weakness. He had perfected the art of hiding his inner turmoil, just as his father had taught him. To the world, he was still the unbeatable war hero, the icon of American masculinity. No one would ever see the cracks beneath the surface—the doubt, the frustration, the endless quest to be enough.

As the cameras continued snapping, Soldier Boy’s mind wandered your words. It’s about control. Image. Playing the game. You had said those words so matter-of-factly as if you had already accepted the new rules of this world.

After the press conference, the team dispersed to prepare for their first mission together—a staged event, of course, meant to show the world how “heroic” they were. But Soldier Boy lingered, watching as the others left the room.

One thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let anyone take his place at the top. He would play the game his way, and when the time came, he would show them all—Vought, Payback, his father—that he was still the strongest, still the best.

Because if there was one thing Ben knew, it was that in the end, power didn’t come from suits or smiles. Power came from dominance, from control, and from the ability to crush anyone who dared to stand in your way.

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

As he turned to leave, Soldier Boy caught a glimpse of himself in one of the giant mirrors that lined the hallway. He stared at his reflection—his square jaw, broad shoulders, and the tight-fitting mask over his head. He looked every bit the hero Vought had made him out to be. But simultaneously, he looked ridiculous.

“Suits are cool, huh?” your familiar voice spoke up as he left the previous room and wandered the hallways of the slightly known building. “Kidding. You look awful.”

Ben hadn’t thought he looked awful altogether; the green hugged his features wonderfully, the gold details shining as a representation of his pride. Just the mask was a reject.

“Can’t say any different about you.” Ben said matter-of-factly.

The hallway was dimly lit, and he continued walking with purpose, ignoring the voice behind him. He didn’t need anyone's approval—especially not from the cocky rookie now catching up with him. The smirk he had seen earlier was back, and you walked with a casual confidence that irritated him even more.

You weren't one to shy away from confrontation, clearly. Your snarky comment about his suit wasn’t just meant to jab at him; it was part of the ongoing game you seemed intent on playing. Ben found it annoying, yet there was something about you that stood out. You weren't like the obedient pawns he was used to, always falling in line and praising him without question.

"Aw, don’t be like that," you teased, still walking alongside him. Your cape fluttered with each step, an accessory he couldn’t understand the need for, as if to taunt him for eternity. “Just saying, for someone who’s supposed to be the leader, you sure look like you're heading into a costume party instead of a mission.”

Ben clenched his jaw but kept walking. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of a response.

You continued, undeterred by his silence. “But you know, maybe that’s the point. We’re all just playing dress-up here, aren’t we? Vought dresses us up, makes us look shiny, and sends us out to wave at the cameras. Nothing heroic about it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ben finally muttered, his voice low. “I’ve seen real combat. I’ve been in the trenches. What have you done, other than talk?”

Your smirk didn’t falter, though your eyes darkened slightly. “You’re right,” you said, a hint of venom in your voice. “I haven’t been in your precious war. But I’m not stupid. I know how things work now. And this… all of this,” you gestured around the hall, “isn’t about being a hero. It’s about staying relevant. It’s about power.”

Ben stopped walking, turning to face you. His eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down, sizing you up again. “Power?” he scoffed. “You think prancing around in that cape gives you power?”

Your smirk faded, replaced with a more serious expression. “No, I think understanding how to use what I’ve got gives me power. You’re strong, Soldier Boy. No one’s doubting that. But strength doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to play the game. And that’s where you’re going to lose.”

Ben’s fists clenched. “I don’t lose.”

“We’ll see.” You stepped back, eyes locked with his. There was no fear in them, just a cool, calculated calm. “But you should know, they own you, just like they own all of us.”

Silence fell between them, only the annoying presence of you urging him to keep on walking.

“Name’s Fury by the way. For the public, that is.”

He glanced at you quickly, frowning before letting his eyes fall on the relics on the walls when they continued their way.

“Soldier Boy.”

Ben could’ve sworn he heard you laugh; just the faintest hint of a breath leaving your mouth in a way that angered him.

“I know that,” you spoke, and he grew to feel more frustrated at the feeling you wouldn’t leave him alone. “You got a real name?”

“Yes.”

“Mine is Y/n.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“Alright, I’ll figure it out eventually." Your words echoed in Ben’s mind as you walked away, pace speeding up to leave him alone in the hallway. He stared after you, his mind racing with a storm of thoughts he wasn’t used to entertaining. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to force his mind back to what mattered: control, power, dominance. But your words lingered like a stubborn itch he couldn’t scratch.

You were audacious, irritating, and worst of all, you had a point.

Ben hated to admit it, but you seemed to understand the game better than most. Vought didn’t care about his war stories or his medals. To them, and to the world they controlled, he was just another pawn in a machine far bigger than the battlefield. For all his strength, for all the wars he had fought and won, Ben was no longer the master of his own destiny. He was trapped in a world of PR stunts and corporate interests. And that gnawed at him, more than he cared to admit.

He had always believed power came from raw strength, from being the toughest, the strongest. But this new world, this world of superheroes-for-hire and manufactured images, was different.

Ben’s jaw tightened as he turned and continued down the hallway, alone with his thoughts. Vought owned him, you had said. That was the part that stung the most. He had spent his life trying to prove to his father that he could succeed on his own terms. But the truth was, his success had always been shaped by someone else. First his father, now Vought.

As he entered the large meeting room, where Payback's first mission briefing was about to take place, he felt a new kind of resolve building inside him. He didn’t like playing games, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Vought—or you—think they had the upper hand. He was still Soldier Boy, the greatest hero America had ever known, and he would prove it.

The team was already gathered, some stretching, some chatting, all waiting for their cue from Vought’s handlers. You werethere too, standing off to the side with your arms crossed, your eyes scanning the room with that same calculated coolness. You caught his gaze for a moment, but there was no smirk this time. Just a flicker of something that almost looked like respect—or perhaps it was just curiosity.

He didn’t care.

Ben straightened his shoulders and strode to the front of the room, where the mission briefing was about to begin. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t need anyone to tell him how to lead.

The lights dimmed, and a large screen flickered to life. A Vought executive appeared, slick and polished as always, ready to guide them through their heroic PR spectacle.

The exec began, his voice oozing with rehearsed enthusiasm. “Your mission today is simple: protect, serve, and show the world why Payback is the team they can trust.”

Ben barely listened. The mission was standard fare—save some politicians from a staged crisis, and make it look good for the cameras. Easy. What he cared about was how he would position himself at the top of the group. This wasn’t just about completing the mission; this was about showing everyone that Soldier Boy wasn’t just another cog in the machine.

After some specifics and unnecesary questions from his lower ranked team, they filed out toward the transport that would take them to the mission site. Ben was the last to leave the room, watching as the others chatted excitedly, eager to get into costume and play the part Vought had crafted for them.

He glanced once more at you, your back to him as you spoke quietly with another member of the team. You were different. You weren't a puppet like the others. That made you dangerous.

But Ben wasn’t worried.

Because at the end of the day, he knew one thing for certain: he didn’t lose.

And when the time came, when he reminded the world just what a real man, a real hero, could do, You—and everyone else—would be forced to recognize that.

He was Soldier Boy. And this? This was just the beginning.

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never

[lizzyk137]

I'll Be There for You - A Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Description: You and Spencer had become friends since he moved into your building. Slowly you fell for him only for him to find someone else. Warnings: Mentions of- death, depression. Angst and jealousy.

Part Two! Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Perfection.

That's what you thought every time you saw your next-door neighbor. Pure perfection.

You knew who he was exactly. A FBI agent, part of the BAU, one of the greatest minds on the planet and he was your next-door neighbor.

He had just moved in a few months ago and ever since then, you'd catch yourself looking through your windows to see him walking off the bus and then running to the door to hear him walk up the stairs, only to open your door just as he was fumbling with his keys to do some mysterious tasks just so you could talk to him.

The first time you ever saw him was when he was unloading his stuff out of a moving van with a few friends, who you've come to know were his co-workers and practically his family. You were pulling up on your bike after a quick morning ride, to see the most gorgeous man turn to look at you as you braked the closer you got.

"Hello!" A cheerful blonde called out as you locked your bike near the entrance of your apartment building.

"Hi!" You had said quietly, suddenly getting nervous as four people, including the supermodel of a man, turned to look at you. You felt like they were looking you all over, analyzing you, which you had come to find out that they naturally do to everyone since it's their job.

"I'm Penelope! This is my friend Spencer; he's moving into the building!" The blonde said with the biggest smile plastered on her face. She was bubbly and confident which made you nervous since you were neither of those things.

"I'm Y/n, I live in 13B. It's nice to meet you." You briefly made eye contact with Spencer's sunglasses covered eyes before looking back down at your hands nervously.

"Did you know in most cultures 13 is considered an unlucky number and the bringer of bad luck? Most buildings skip the 13th floor entirely and most places don't number a house or apartment as the number 13 since it could bring bad luck to the area?" Spencer stated, looking at you.

"Um, I did know that actually. 13 is one of my favourite numbers and I also own a black cat too. So hopefully you don't have to be my neighbor." You chuckled trying to make a joke. The others laughed but Spencer just stood there looking at you.

"Actually, my apartment is number 11, and with how the building is organized with odd numbers on the left and even numbers on the right, I am more than likely your neighbor. Plus, I also don't believe in superstitions since there is no scientific proof that they harbor any bad luck."

You nodded. "Oh... well, um did you guys need any help with your stuff?" You motioned with your head to the van filled with boxes labeled books. "There is a service elevator just on the other side of the building that we can use to bring in the larger stuff."

"Thanks, that would be a big help." A handsome-looking gentleman said. "The name's Morgan." He said winking at you.

A dark-haired woman shook her head at Morgan, then said, "Why don't we pull out what we can and do an assembly line to the apartment then we can use the elevator for the larger furniture?"

"Sounds good!" Penelope said and everyone broke away from the huddle to start pulling boxes out.

After that day, the apartment next to yours was quiet. The front door never opened or closed, and you worried that your new neighbor was dead. Worried after the fifth day of not hearing anything you knocked on the door to no reply.

You had called your landlord and asked him if the next door was vacant since you were certain that no living soul was in there. He said Spencer was still renting and gave you his number to call.

You sent out a text two days later, hoping that he wasn't dead next door.

'Hi, this is Y/N from unlucky apartment 13. I just wanted to make sure you were okay since there's been no noise for the past week. I hope my bad luck didn't reach you!'

You tried keeping it light and friendly, hoping that your worrying didn't lead to the real thing happening.

You received a reply a day later to your surprise and relief.

'Hi, unlucky number thirteen. No, the bad luck has not caught up with me. I've been away on a case and have yet to be home. Thanks for checking up on me!'

You chuckled at the message and from then on you and Spencer exchanged texts every hour cracking small jokes.

It wasn't until you heard the keys jingle outside the door a few days later that you bolted out of your window seat and opened the door to find an exhausted Spencer trying to unlock his door.

He was so tired he didn't even realize you had been standing there watching him struggle for a few minutes until you cleared your throat making him jump, dropping his keys in the process.

You reached down to pick them up, and your hair flipped out of your face giving him the best view to see your beautiful smile light up your face as you handed him his keys back. He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn't red even though it felt like it was burning. "Thanks." He mumbled and opened the door quickly only for it to open a foot.

Inside you could see boxes piled up blocking any sort of passage through.

Spencer tried to shimmy his way in but eventually had to put his back to the door, bracing himself as he pushed it open with his body.

"Did you want any help unpacking?" You ask chuckling as the maze of boxes piled up.

Spencer tilted his head to look at you then let out a tired breath. "Honestly, I'd love that, but I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in the past couple of days. If the offer still stands in the next couple of days, I'll take you up on it." He put on a small smile for you to show he appreciated your offer.

You nodded lightly, "Let me know when you're all set, I'd be more than glad to set a few hours aside to help you!"

And he did let you know a few days later. You heard a soft knock on the door and could hear him pace back and forth for a second while you pulled a blanket over your thin tank top and short shorts.

"Spencer?" You said surprised as you pulled open the door to reveal a very nervous man.

He wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "Does the offer still stand to help unpack? I tried unpacking myself and it is not going that well." His voice was barely a whisper at the end, and you ended up laughing a bit at how nervous he was.

He gulped at the sight of you laughing at what he said, hoping he didn't seem inadequate at something so simple as packing.

"I told you the offer would still stand so there is no need to be nervous, plus packing always goes better when you do it with someone. " You chuckled and closed your apartment door behind him.

He didn't move from where he was, so you ended up knocking into him a little bit. "Whoops, sorry!" You said trying to take a step back but there was nowhere to go with how close Spencer was to you.

He just continued to stare at you and then cleared his throat taking a step back. He headed back to his apartment as you followed behind in your fuzzy slippers. He opened the door as much as he could and held it open for you to shimmy inside. Your chest moving as you nudged your way inside made his face instantly heat up and his eyes go wide as he tore his eyes away from your thin top.

'Get it together Spencer. She's helping you out, it's not time to check her out.' He thought to himself shaking his head as the image flashed back into his head.

"So where do you want to start?" Your voice rang out to him, making the thought of your chest disappear.

"Um," his voice cracked a bit as he tried to control it, "I think we should start in the kitchen since it has the most breakable stuff."

He led the way to the kitchen and you both started tearing through boxes and pulling out items, asking him where he would want things to which he was clueless on what would go better where so he left it up to you. In fact, he left every part of his house up to you on how it should be arranged. He just followed your orders and moved items to where they needed to go, his face turning bright red when you'd catch him staring at you making you blush slightly.

After that, Spencer and you became close friends and frequented each other's apartments often for movie night, to play games, to talk or just to read each other's massive collection of books. After a while, you both had a key to each other's house and you'd often find Spencer in your reading corner, which you had put a special chair just for him in, and he would find you making something delicious in his kitchen as you sang along to some k-pop song off-key.

You both grew to be best friends, closer than he and JJ were, and he'd often take you to team functions as his plus one. You were slowly falling in love with the tall nerdy genius, and you thought he felt the same way until one day he mentioned a girl that he was talking to.

Maeve.

Movie nights turned into Maeve nights. Nightly walks were only to phone booths where you would sit outside on the curb waiting for Spencer to be done, and weekly bookstore trips were only to look for a book Maeve suggested in her nightly phone calls.

Soon everything you once did together started going away and Spencer wasn't the same guy you first fell for.

You'd make him dinners for when he'd come back home from cases only for none of it to be touched. Books you bought that you knew he was waiting to be released would be left untouched and piling up on the table by the door.

The team would fill you in and let you know he was okay at least once a week since you never saw or heard from him anymore.

Sure, you were happy that Spencer found someone, it broke your heart that it wasn't you, but you were still happy for your friend. But soon, Spencer didn't want your company as he used to want it. Everything slowly was crumbling, and you were left in the dark from him.

It lasted for ten months before it all stopped. No noise, no movement, not even a breath was heard in the apartment next to yours. The team would come by, and he wouldn't open up his door to any of them.

Maeve died and Spencer was broken.

It lasted like that for months. You tried not to linger by his door on your way to and from work. You tried not to care too deeply for someone that dropped you months ago. You tried your hardest not to think about Spencer Reid. And it almost worked.

You were putting on your heels for a night out with the girls. In the last few months, the girls of the BAU team became super close even with Emily flying in every so often to meet up. Penelope had suggested a girl's night out with dinner, drinking and dancing. The three D's as she liked to call it. And for someone lucky they got the fourth D at the end of the night, and in PG terms she called it dessert.

Looking into the mirror, you looked back at yourself checking every part of your outfit over. A tight, sparkly black over the shoulder sleeved mini dress with black strappy heels. You had gone all out on your makeup, something one of your friends from college taught you how to do to get extra money on the weekends, and you had curled your hair in loose waves.

You sighed, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, a bit uncomfortable with how much skin was showing. You had been slowly building your confidence up the last few months you spent with Spencer since he showed you that it was okay to be you and that you didn't have to hide it, and you were trying to keep building confidence up even though he wasn't there anymore.

Your phone buzzed and you saw that it was Penelope messaging you that they were there. Grabbing your bag and stuffing your phone inside you headed out and stopped to look at Spencer's door, littered with baskets of self-care stuff and dead flowers. You missed him, but the door was a reflection of what he wanted, to close everyone out and drown out the world.

Dinner went by in a flash, full of laughter and drinks, and you were headed to the club when Penelope shrieked besides you.

"You okay, hun?" You asked chuckling at the girl next to you that was practically hyperventilating.

Instead of giving you an answer she just waved her phone around until JJ grabbed it and looked at what was pulled up. "Wow..." JJ mumbled. She showed you and Emily what seemed to be a picture. Emily blew it up and there all the guys from the BAU including Will were lined up on the wall dressed up in suits with stern expressions on their face.

"Daddy Morgan is looking so fine." Penelope whispered causing you to laugh loudly.

"Oh my god, is that Spencer?" Emily gasped.

All four of you leaned closer in to look at the line up of men. Morgan, Rossi, Hotch, Will and Spencer. Morgan had his best smolder on, Rossi did not look pleased to be there, Hotch looked tired, Will stood there like a deer in headlights and Spencer looked so tired that it broke your heart a little.

"I know, I know I said it was a girl's night but the boys were getting Spencer out of the house and at least out doing normal human things so I said they could tag along. Please don't be mad." Giving you her best pleading look.

"I think it's a good idea to get Spencer out of the house. Y/N is that okay with you?" JJ asked you concerned. She could see you tense up after Penelope said she invited them.

Nodding your head as a reply you looked back at the picture on Penelope's phone staring a hole into Spencer's digital self until you had to see the real thing.

You made it through the club's line quicker than expected, all thanks to Emily flirting with the female bouncer, and you headed inside, music blaring, to find the table the guys reserved for you. Emily could see you fidgeting with your bag, so she pulled you over to the bar and ordered a round of shots. "Liquid courage." She said as she handed you a glass. You ended up downing five shots and one mixed drink until Emily pulled you over to the table to drop your bags off to dance.

"Damn, princess, you are looking good." Morgan whistled to you, winking as you shrugged playfully.

"I see you girls are dressed up nicely, did we interrupt girls' night?" Rossi asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Kind of, but we can still pull in our catch." Emily winked as she replied back.

Your eyed slowly drifted around the table as everyone engaged in conversations with each other until your eyes landed on Spencer who was staring at you with his jaw locked. You stared at each other for a few minutes before you felt a light touch on your shoulder. Looking up, you saw a handsome man smiling down at you.

"Hi, Y/N, right? I'm Jesse, we met at the bookstore last week."

"Oh, hi!" The table growing silent as they eyed the newcomer at the table, and you knew they were unintentionally profiling him. You could feel Spencer's eyes drilled into your back.

"I just saw you and was hoping it was you. I wanted to thank you for that book recommendation for my class! Surprisingly the sixth graders enjoyed it."

"I'm so glad to hear that! I read it to my class not too long ago and they loved it!"

Jesse nodded and looked up at the table. "Oh, I'm being rude. I'll leave ya be to your friends!"

"No, no! That's okay!" Penelope practically screamed out. "Y/N was looking for someone to dance with, if you want to dance." You swerved in your seat to give her a death glare before politely smiling back up at Jesse.

Jesse chuckled, "Um, if you want to dance, I'd like to accompany you." He extended his hand out and you gently took it letting him lead you to the dance floor.

Spencer scoffed, as he watched you two walked away. Rossi eyed him and shook his head. "What?" He asked the older man. "The guy was obviously into her. He was practically eyeing her body the entire time. And the excuse of coming over here to thank her for recommending a book! Lame."

"I never thought I'd hear Reid use the word lame before." Morgan muttered to Hotch.

"I thought the guy was nice. I see him come into the station to help out with the toy drives and I hear he helps out at all the shelters around town." Will commented causing Spencer to roll he eyes.

The table grew silent for a few minutes and the girls went off the dance, Will in tow, and Reid was left with three men who knew him the best looking at him.

Spencer took a sip of his water, trying not to let on that he was suddenly uncomfortable with all three men staring at him.

"I think we have a jealous Reid." Rossi finally said, breaking the silence.

Hotch laughed, "I think you're right. Maybe you should just tell her you like her."

Spencer shook his head confused and took another sip of his drink. "I just got out a relationship, which did not end well. How could I suddenly be jealous of her? She just met the guy for a second time."

All three men laughed at Spencer's remarks making him more puzzled at what they were saying.

Morgan cleared his throat, "No, not jealous of her in that way. Jealous of the guy she's with. As soon as she walked in you have been eyeing her, and when Jesse showed up you got mad at her for giving her attention to another guy. Even now your eyes have been following her around." Morgan explained.

"And don't say it's for her safety. She's quite safe surrounded by two fully trained agents and one police officer." Rossi chimed in.

"You like her, just tell her that." Hotch spoke up next, "What you had with Maeve was meaningful and real, but it was also mostly through a phone and there was so many secrets she kept from you. You should be with someone that you don't have to hide from. Someone that can be your best friend when you need it and is always there for you."

Spencer just nodded and turned his gaze towards you, watching as you drunkenly swayed your body to the music.

"Maybe I will, but I also don't know what to feel, and she means too much to me to use to figure out my own feelings." He starred at you as you laughed and danced. He was happy you were having fun, but he always wished his arms were wrapped around you as you both danced the night away.

[savebylou]

Simon Cowell Is Looking for the Next One Direction

The industry veteran will host open call auditions across the UK next month and might be capturing his search in an upcoming documentary series

BY LARISHA PAUL JUNE 4, 2024

When One Direction formed on The X Factor UK in 2010, it was like capturing a million different rare occurrences at once — lightning in a bottle, a total solar eclipse, shooting stars, volcanic eruptions, winning the lottery, all of it. Simon Cowell looked at his creation — though it was actually Nicole Scherzinger who had a large hand in assembling them — with stars and dollar signs in his eyes. Nearly 14 years after they came together and nine since they last released music as a group, Cowell is kicking off an official search for the next One Direction.

“Every generation deserves a megastar boyband and I don’t think there has been one to have the success of One Direction in over 14 years. The industry tends to focus on solo artists – so it usually takes someone from outside to put a group together,” Cowell shared in a statement announcing plans to host open call auditions across the UK to find young hopefuls willing to go through the boy band boot camp process.

Cowell’s journey toward creating another pop-dominating band will be captured for a “potential documentary series,” set to be produced with Box to Box Films. The documentary production company is best known for its work on Netflix’s Formula 1: Drive to Survive series. A streaming service has not yet been attached to Cowell’s project. Netflix recently announced the new reality series Building the Band, which will bring members of a new band together on the whims of chemistry without them ever meeting each other.

Auditions for the new band will begin next month in Newcastle, Dublin, Liverpool, and London. Beyond One Direction, Cowell has had a hand in the formation of the successful girl groups Little Mix and Fifth Harmony and the less successful boy bands CNCO and PrettyMuch, both of which have since disbanded. Still, the industry veteran isn’t looking at his past track record as a guarantee for success with the act he’s searching for now.

“There’s always a high degree of risk, and I genuinely have no idea what’s going to happen! We might uncover an incredible group; we might not get there,” he shared. “What if no one shows up to auditions? That could be awkward. There is no guaranteed path to success – anything can happen, but that’s what’s exciting for me, and that’s why I’m doing this.”

[ourtalechara]

Don't ask what I'm doing I'm not doing anything (VBS Data Stream guys look at it)

Kohane An Akito Toya and Luka

(actually nice and finished looking lyrics under cut)

Eventually, all walls meet demolition

So Wall Street had to keep the tradition

Their financial systems resigned to ignition

And out of the ashes, we have arisen

An empire is forged in the fire of ambition

In business, there isn't the time for attrition

Invest to suppress then ingest competition

Then each acquisition is new ammunition

When governments crumble and fall to the floor

That was paved with the graves of a corporate war

A fundament funded in blood just to shore

A foundation for founding our covenant

Born of a need for control of societal entropy

Enterprise at the price of your indemnity

Chart out the course and of course you were meant to be

Bent to the will of a corporate entity

Arasaka Security. You're in safe hands

We're the light in your screens, we're the lead in your veins

Then you wake from your dreams, so we can sell them again

In the light we distract with the shiny and new

So you're blind to the fact that the product is you

So let your brain dance and replay the dream

But don't drown in the data stream

'Cause we see where you are and we see where you go

'Cause we know what you own and we own what you know

From the top of all our towers, the corridors of power clearly need rewiring

Arasaka saw the spark and then embarked upon the path to turn that spark to lightning

There's no autonomous megalopolis so populous or prosperous you could reside in

And every citizen that's living in this city is a digit on the charts we're climbing

Political systems are too inefficient

They split like the atom and burned in the fission

Now every department and every decision

Defer to the herds of our corporate divisions

If you don't remember the ballot you cast

It's printed on every receipt you were passed

Each time you selected our products and services

We were elected in each of your purchases

What's left to do when you've got the monopoly?

Turn the consumer into the commodity

It isn't hard where you've hardware neurology

Honestly, do read the company policy

Take information and trade it for wealth

You pay it in each augmentation we sell

It's easy to cut out the middleman

When he's cut out most of himself

Arasaka Finance. Investing in your future

(chorus)

All that you say on the net we composite

To maps that go straight from your head to your pocket

Complain if you want, you're still making deposits

Of data — each day you log on is a profit

Society currently lists electronic

So isn't conducting resistance ironic?

We've plenty of skeletons locked in our closets

But yours are assembled from old-stock hydraulics

So lucky we know just the pieces you need

All plucked from your social media feeds

The places you go and the posts that you read

All snatched for a new algorithm to feed

Now, holding our gold isn't par for the brand

Our silver is sat in the palm of your hand

Quit whining and sign on the line in the sand

The supply does not get to make the demands

(chorus)

Arasaka Manufacturing. Building a better tomorrow

Name, age, qualifications

Race, faith, career aspirations

Political leaning, daily commute

Marital status, favourite fruit

Family, browser, medical history

Hobbies, interests, brand affinity

Fashion, style, your occupation

Gender identity, orientation

Lifestyle choices, dietary needs

The marketing contact you choose to receive

Posts, likes, employers, friends

Social bias, exploitable trends

Tastes, culture, phone of choice

Facial structure, the tone of your voice

If it's inside your head, we know

You can't escape the ebb and flow

(chorus)

When guiding the hand of the market

If it's holding a cheque or a gun

The fingers go deep in your pockets

And you can live under the thumb

You seem so surprised, what did you expect?

We're thinking outside of that box that you checked

The terms were presented in full to inspect

You scrolled to the end just to get to "Accept"

Arasaka would like to know your location

Arasaka would like to know your location

Arasaka would like to know your location

Arasaka would like to know your location

[dailyanarchistposts]

If we stop, the world stops

Millions of women around the world participated in events for International Women’s Day (IWD) on March the 8th. The most militant action was in the growth of the ‘Women’s Strike’, with 5.3 million people on strike in Spain. In Britain, the interest in the tactics of the strike on IWD is relatively new, yet still 7,000 women pledged to strike. In addition, links were made to grass roots unions such as the Cleaners and Allied Independent Workers Union (CAIUW) with support for their pickets for a Living Wage. Sex workers also co-ordinated their own actions for decriminalisation and trans women held an action over the problems of access to NHS services.

The organisers in Britain made it clear that the strike should focus on demands for working class women, including those who often face the most exploitation and discrimination, like migrants, sex workers, trans women. It is not just a strike about traditional work but also about ‘invisible labour’, such as care, domestic and emotional labour, and against male violence. The historical origins of the day make it clear that the purpose is not to have more women politicians or company directors (see box). Instead it is focused on the majority of women who are at the bottom of the pile, both in the workplace and in the home. According to one organiser of the Women’s Strike in Britain: “We are instead taking action – action against our exploitation under capitalism, where the domestic and emotional work we do for little or no pay is made invisible, while austerity measures force us into a more and more vulnerable position. This is feminism for the 99%”.

It was in Spain, however, that the strike was the most successful. This was partially because of the support it got from the mainstream unions. However, it is clear that they were forced into support as a result of the massive upsurge from the grass roots organisations. According to one source (thefreeonline.wordpress.com): “An important feature of this strike is that it has been promoted and organised from the bottom up, and not the other way around. That is to say, the initiative of the strike has been born first in the streets, in the neighbourhoods and districts and has developed in open assemblies. It has not been a proposal of the unions, but of the feminist movement.” The mainstream unions only called for a 2 hour strike whereas unions such as the CGT and the anarchist CNT called for 24 hour stoppages.

Despite calls for the strike to be based on working class women, it is uncertain to what extent many women could actually participate, given that they are the ones in the most precarious position. In Spain, headlines were given to women in media and other professional jobs. In Britain, the strike was most successful in the universities, with 61 universities taking part. However, the link to CAIWU and sex workers showed that there certainly was support outside the universities.

If women are to truly win all the demands put forward on the day then we must go beyond demands for equality in the system and call for both the end of capitalism and patriarchy. So how is this going to happen? The strike in Spain may have been very successful in terms of numbers on the streets but what will it achieve in terms of winning demands? Politicians and even bosses may pay lip service to the aims of IWD but they are unlikely to do anything about it. In the end, using the success of March the 8th, women and men must continue to organise at the grass roots level and build up a movement that lasts much longer than a day. The linking up of a number of groups on the 8th provides a good basis on which to move forward.

Origins of International Women’s Day

March 8 is International Women’s Day. This date commemorates March 8, 1909, when 129 employees of a cotton textile factory in New York were killed when their own owner set fire to the factory while all of them were inside making a protest demanding labour rights. In addition, the colour of feminism is violet because, it is said, the smoke that came from that fire was violet, like the fabrics that were there that day. At an International Congress of Socialist Women in 1910, Clara Zetkin proposed this date as the International Women’s Day in honour of the cotton workers.

[dynared]

So doing a slight follow-up to the "Voltron is leaving Netflix" announcement, I should note that it's not exactly Netflix's fault here. Not fully anyway.

Netflix signed a deal with Dreamworks where the rights to the original shows would expire unless renewed. Since then Dreamworks signed a first-look deal with Hulu, then their parent company NBC Universal founded their own streaming service in Peacock (your home for WWE pay-per-views and reruns of The Office). So Dreamworks is merely collecting what is owed. Dreamworks meanwhile, has the option to re-air the show on owned affiliates like Peacock, although when it comes to Netflix originals, they've only done it for one show, a Puss in Boots spinoff, which airs on Peacock.

So now that we've established that this is not Netflix killing a show for taxes, or doing something personal to slight you, the viewer, I do think the timing is very serendipitous for all parties involved. Dreamworks no longer has the rights to make Voltron material, although Universal does have the right to co-distribute the original series still. WEP, Inc, master holder of the Voltron license, sold the rights to Amazon MGM Studios, who, even as we speak, are currently building sets in Australia for the live-action Voltron movie.

With the Transformers recording weaker and weaker box offices (Transformers One lost to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice despite great critical and audience scores), there is now a massive giant robot-shaped hole in theaters since the Robots in Disguise are likely going to be taking some time off.

It also doesn't help that well, Bob Koplar, head of WEP and producer on the Voltron movie, kind of hates Legendary Defender from interviews with the man. He's on record during VoltCon 2020 saying that Dreamworks "did not get Voltron" which is why he was unsurprised that their attempt at a LA script that was going to use Legendary Defender as a base was rejected (leading to Dreamworks losing the license to make new material) and during VoltCon 2023 flat out said that his movie will NOT use the names of the original team, since he didn't want the series to be tied down to those names. So no Keith, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Shiro. Instead, you're probably getting five pilots named Ken, Joe, Ryu, Jinpei, and Jun. (Probably not THOSE names, but you get my point).

So, Voltron leaving Netflix is not really the fault of anything but contract expirations. However, everyone seems really happy with the idea of VLD disappearing forever and being replaced with a brand-new big-budget movie.

[startrekprodigyfan]

During Covid-19 lockdown I attempted to build the Enterprise-D.

But I have ADHD and it was going untreated at the time, and I’m bad at model building… so it failed.

Then Eaglemoss came out with a “build the Enterprise-D” subscription service. And for a while, it was okay…

But then Eaglemoss went bankrupt and now my model sits incomplete in a Tupperware box under my computer.

Now TOMY is releasing an enormous light up Enterprise model that is Die-Cast and is fully painted and assembled, thus bypassing my ADHD no model building skills issue.

But it’s $700 and only available for this month.

I’ve been burned twice…

[technoadvance-blog]

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[justinspoliticalcorner]

Umar Lee:

Before Mike Brown

Growing up in North St. Louis County, I remember a vibrant community full of churches, bars, VFW halls, Knights of Columbus, shopping malls, movie theatres, and all of the amenities working, and middle-class post-war Americans desired. To be a kid who loved sports, like me, North County offered Khoury League baseball, JFL football, little league wrestling, boxing gyms, soccer clubs, hockey clubs, basketball leagues, and much more. I played plenty of sports growing up in organized leagues (wrestling, baseball, and football); but I played more with kids in the street. When I wasn’t playing sports, I was listening to Jack Buck and Mike Shannon call Cardinals games on KMOX radio, sneaking up late at night to watch pro wrestling, reading wrestling and boxing magazines in the store because I couldn’t afford to buy them, also reading the St. Louis-based The Sporting News to keep track of stats, admiring the photos and articles in Sports Illustrated, of course reading the sports section in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch daily, and watching whatever sports were aired TV on the weekend for households without cable, topped off by sports news coverage from the likes of Jay Randolph, Ron Jacober, and Art Holliday on Channel 5.

Yet, while all of this was going on, which has left me with a life of fond memories, the North County, and my personal story, isn’t complete without looking at other events. The sports sections of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch discussed Whiteyball, our loss of Big Red football, almost losing the Blues to Canada, and the Steamers; but the news and businesses pages were far bleaker. St. Louis had then, and has now, one of the highest rates of violent crime in America, political dysfunction and corruption, and countless municipal fiefdoms. These pages also contained news of factory closings and job losses. Like Michigan, Pennsylvania, northeast Ohio, and other parts of the Rust Belt; working-class St. Louisans were reeling from job losses. North County was built up and populated by factory workers and those in the building trades, the small houses were built for guys like my dad who left high school and walked right onto an assembly line, and when those factories close, and the builders stop building, the economic conditions that underpin the health of families and communities erode. When Combustion Engineering in North St. Louis laid off my dad, uncle, and other relatives in the 80s, it hit like a micro version of the Great Depression. The saving grace would come years later when my dad joined my grandpa at GM, which had moved from North City to St. Charles County, skipping North County in the process, and my uncle getting rewarded for his service loading dead and wounded American bodies into helicopters in Vietnam by getting hired at the federal records center in Overland.

Beneath the changing economic conditions was the issue that defines St. Louis, and in particular, North County. Race. North County was largely farmland before World War II with a sprinkling of small towns mixed in. Old Town Florissant and Sacred Heart Parish in an example of historic North County which was a community of French and German Catholics who later welcomed and embraced Irish and Italian Catholics. Like south St. Louis City, places like Ferguson and Florissant, bonded together at church, in labor unions, and in neighborhoods. The problem is that these tended to be nearly exclusively white, and as the Black population of North City spilled into North County in large numbers beginning in the 1970s, this began to create tension. As a reference point, my dad graduated from Riverview Gardens in 1970 when the first Black student enrolled, today the school is virtually 100% Black. After splitting with my dad, my mother, who lived in North City and North County with us as small kids, took my biracial younger half-siblings to be raised in the Shaw and Dutchtown neighborhoods of South City, because she deemed the Riverview Gardens schools to be too white and racist. I stayed in Black Jack and then Florissant along with my older sisters, dad, stepmom, and grandparents.

As economic conditions became unstable in North County, white families began moving out to St. Charles County, and Black families began settling in areas that had previously been all-white, the existing white establishment relied on police departments, most of them either all-white or close to it, to act as a buffer zone. This frequently was manifested in traffic stops with places like Jennings being the worst. White residents of North County feared crime rates would soon mirror those in north city, and these fears were only heightened after high-profile crimes such as the 1982 kidnapping and murders of Gary and Donna Decker in Bellefontaine Neighbors, the stabbing death of McCluer North student and football player Dan Mckeon (brother of two professional soccer players) at a 1987 party in Florissant, the rape and murders of the Kerry sisters in 1991 at the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge, and the rape and murder of freshman student Christine Smetzer by a fellow student in a McCluer North bathroom in 1995.

Meanwhile, Black families arriving in north county for better schools, safer communities, and more amenities, after generations of legalized housing segregation in St. Louis City and County, often faced the brunt force of aggressive north county policing. Instead of harassing criminals and reducing crime, police departments in north county were often harassing students and law-abiding citizens coming home from work, church, or a night out. Before body cameras and smart phones these police interactions often included profane and racially abusive language and frequently beatings. This created a climate of distrust and anger in the Black community in North County. Crime was going up, but police were harassing law-abiding citizens instead of stopping criminals, and Black residents were also disproportionately victims of crimes that received far less media attention. As the racial composition of North County municipalities changed to majority-Black, voter turnout remained higher among longtime and typically older white residents. This meant that the numerous city halls and police departments in places like Ferguson remained nearly all-white even as whites became a minority in those communities.

In 2014, North County was a powder keg waiting to erupt. All it needed was a spark. That’s why I began writing about north county in my Evening-Whirl column and for the Huffington Post. No one was talking about North County and it was ready to explode. Local media focused on stories about bike lanes, hipster neighborhoods, and business as usual. Months before August 9th, I told Paul Fehler, of the Pruitt-Igoe Myth and political fame, that if there was a riot and civil unrest in St. Louis it would be in North County. A week before August 9th, with future mayoral candidate Cara Spencer watching, I had a heated argument with legislative aide Michael Powers at The Royale because he said I talked about problems in North County too much. Everything in the County is fine, I was told, all focus must be on the city.

Then it happened. Mike Brown Jr., a recent graduate of Normandy High School, walked to an immigrant-owned and ran store with a friend (most such stores in the Black communities of St. Louis are owned by Palestinian Muslims), there was an altercation, but nothing out of the ordinary for a St. Louis hood store, and as he walked through the apartments and onto Canfield at the edge of Ferguson, he met up with Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson. The encounter was fatal and almost certainly avoidable. Ferguson immediately handled the situation in a reckless and insensitive manner. Allowing the dead body of Mike Brown to lay in the streets for hours, and bringing out police dogs to intimidate family members, neighbors, friends, and those brought out by social media posts and discussions on Black radio. What happened that day, we’ll probably never know the entire truth. What we do know is what happened on August 9th of 2014 permanently changed St. Louis and America.

My Time in Ferguson

People have to remember that what became known as the Ferguson Uprising was not something that was instigated by academics, leftist political organizations and organizers, out of town celebrity activists, intersectional dogmatists, or people with college degrees. The anger at the death of Mike Brown came from the neighborhood. A neighborhood ranging from lower middle-class to generational poverty. People struggling and hustling just to stay above water. The community came out August 9th, but the uprising began August 10th and that was a day when an older generation of pastors, community leaders, and politicians were largely pushed aside, by a younger generation seeking an immediate redress to their grievances. It was leaderless and often without direction. Purely organic and there was a beautiful sense of community in the early days. Elders such as Anthony Bell attempted to provide direction (Bell setting up voter registration tables); but the situation was too fluid and beyond the capabilities of individual organizers.

[...]

From the beginning, I sought to use whatever platform I had to highlight the history of North County and attempt to tell a story of how we arrived at this moment. Having said that, like everyone else, I was caught up in the drama and passion of the Ferguson moment. I made videos, wrote some articles, cowrote a few pieces with Sarah Kendzior, and appeared on many local, national, and international news outlets (Al Jazeera links aren’t working). I was also arrested twice in Ferguson, threatened with arrest many more times, received numerous and graphic death threats, sparred with police supporters, lost my cool, provoked, was provoked, and finally lost my job and shortly thereafter my apartment (and in the middle of all of this, my grandma died and I was in a messy relationship). If you look at photos I didn't have grey hair before Ferguson. A few months later I was buying Just For Men.

I found a way to piss off police supporters and get under their skin, as did guys like Bassem Masri. In my estimation, the reasons for that are twofold. Firstly, we both grew-up in north county, so many of the people responsible for targeting and doxxing us were those we either grew-up with or went to school with. I saw lifelong friendships created in the Ferguson-Florissant School District end over Facebook posts during the Ferguson Unrest. This was mostly along racial lines. Secondly, unlike most activists, or those you see on Ivy League campuses today, we didn't talk and sound like spoiled brats, smart alecky rich kids who'd have to go to therapy for decades after one physical altercation. We'd been in plenty of fistfights, street brawls, and I'd been shot at and stabbed. Twitter trolls, insults, and radio talkshow hosts like Mark Reardon and Bob Romanik weren't gonna hurt my feelings.

[...]

Trump and The 2020 Sham

For the sake of time, and if anyone is still here, I'll fast forward to 2020. I've already previously stated, and Sarah Kendzior noted this in her book discussing St. Louis, that I believe Ferguson is partially responsible for electing Donald Trump as president. As in 1968, when Richard Nixon promised law and order, I knew conditions were ripe for a populist right-wing politician promising to restore law and order. No one saw COVID-19 coming, the shutdowns, the summer of massive protests after the murder of George Floyd, and the crazy presidential election. Four years later, I think we're still all trying to make sense of it.

While I fully embraced vaccines, and I'm happy I'm vaxxed, and I supported shutdowns at the time, I think it's pretty clear they did more harm than good. Most harmed were our children- particularly poor and working-class kids, who fell behind due to the virtual learning sham, and never caught up. I was at the Dallas campaign event where Biden was endorsed by multiple presidential candidates, thus virtually sealing the nomination. The South Side Ballroom was so packed, that I could barely move or breath, and couldn't get in a position to take a good photo, despite being relatively close to Biden. The next week it was too dangerous to publicly campaign, Biden stayed at home, and we elected an elderly man who was not up to the job but has generally been good in office both for American workers and our international allies. Mainstream media, so eager to defeat Trump, played along. Oh, the viable Democratic alternative was another elderly gentleman who honeymooned in the Soviet Union. It was not a year of good choices, but Biden was the best in my estimation.

[...]

The Aftermath: Where We Stand

Where are we today? A decade later, are we in a better place? North County is still in a state of serious decline and seems to be getting worse each year, North City is doing even worse, the population of both St. Louis City and County is declining, and many are opting for more prosperous communities, most notably Texas and Georgia suburbs (both reddish states). Violent crime spiked for a period, the decline in traffic enforcement has made driving and walking our streets far less safe and often deadly, and area police have essentially stopped policing. They don't want to be stars in a viral video or become a hashtag. For many cops, if they couldn't do things the old school way, they aren’t gonna do it at all. This has made our communities more dangerous, less livable for the most vulnerable, and places few people want to live in. This is a negative consequence from the lack of a strategic plan after Ferguson and failures on both the parts of law-enforcement and the community to hear one another.

The good news is that St. Louis now has better prosecutors (Wesley Bell and Gabe Gore) who are committed to public safety, holding those accountable who harm our community, and enacting diversion programs and other positive post-Ferguson reforms. St. Louis has a mayor in Tishaura Jones who wasn't created in a lab by white progressives; but is a genuine leader, reared and educated locally. Without Ferguson, I'm doubtful Mayor Jones would've been elected, nor a new generation of leaders such as Adam Layne and Marty Murray.

So, it must be recognized, that while there have been some unintended negative consequences from Ferguson, there are also positive developments. These aren't just political. What inspires me isn't politics. I'm inspired by faith leaders in our community who took the Ferguson moment and began having serious conversations with their congregations. Fathers and mothers who began having difficult conversations at home with their sons and daughters. Teachers who began listening to their students. Old classmates who reached out to one another to have a beer and talk across the racial divide. Our increased racially diverse families and suburbs who are defying our political discourse on both sides as progressives have adopted a rigid and dogmatic Race Science and MAGA is doubling down on Nativism and Majoritarian racial grievances. By our faithful and intact immigrant families providing needed life to a region desperately in need.

@Umar Lee wrote a solid perspective on the 10-year anniversary of the killing of Mike Brown in Ferguson and North County from a North County POV. #Ferguson

Read the full story at Umar Lee's Substack.