#call out electrician near me

[arrowheadedbitch]

Okay, watched this video like a week ago and I'm still thinking about it everyday so bare with me as I get this out of my system

Okay, Denki doing electrician type shit on the side

It all starts with something like this, he goes to a little old lady's house and is like "Okay, this bitches house is gonna fucking EXPLODE" and convinces Kamui Woods (I've decided that he's definitely the guy Kami interned from, it just makes sense) to let him rewire this woman's house instead of the regularly scheduled hero work for an internship, it takes some convincing but Kaminari makes a strong argument about how he's keeping this woman's house from blowing up which is pretty damn heroic and if he doesn't do this they'll just have to save a bunch of people from her house explosion later on so really he's doing her, her neighbors, the other heroes, and the city a service here

So, Denki is allowed to detour from regular hero work to completely rewire her whole house because damn did her nephew not know what the FUCK he was doing

Of course, Kamui Woods is supervising and helping (mostly just handing him stuff or holding stuff or standing in the way because he doesn't know anywhere near the amount that Denki apparently just...knows) him the whole time, watching in awe as he finds out this kid can do this kind of thing (How do people think this kid is stupid??? Everyone's been telling him he got the dumb one but clearly this kid is a genius because FUCKING LOOK AT HIM)

At the end, Denki refuses to let the old lady pay him as it was "just what a hero does" and "not that big a deal" so he's paid in homemade sweets

When Kamui tries to congratulate him on a job well done, Denki insists that it "wasn't that hard, seriously it was easy, I don't see what the big deal is"

And when his interning is all finished, this seeps into his work as a pro hero

When he sees someone less fortunate and in need of some rewiring, no matter how big (as long as he can spare the time, being a pro hero is a pretty busy job) he just...does it. Pro bono.

Which completely incidentally rockets him up in the ranks due to the public opinion of his charitability, and the best part? He doesn't see it as charity. In fact, he likes to think of it as some sort of "pre-heroing" (something he had called it to Kamui Woods all that time ago), he saves them before the disaster happens, no need to congratulate him! He's just doing what any good hero would do! Well, okay, you can congratulate him a *little*, but only if you really want to...

And all the snotty not in it for the right reasons heros (Endeavor Dupes, if you will) HATE him for it, making them look bad??? Raising the bar? Making them need to actually be charitible more than once a year for the sake of their PR? But they hate all the 1A kids anyways, so who really cares. They probably would have hated him anyways.

Anyways, had to get my accidental electrician electric hero idea out of my head, lmao, thx for listening 🤣

[muddy-water-1997]

𝖣𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖠𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

"𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌; 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂���." - 𝖯𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖡𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗍𝗍.

𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

Bangchan: Building flatpack furniture

"I’m pretty sure that’s not where that goes.” You tilt your head toward Chris, confusion etched on your face as he tries to fit a square piece of wood into a circular hole.

“Tell that to Ikea!” he scoffs, trying a few more times before giving up and looking at the instructions.

“Babe,” you say with a sing-song tone, reaching over the pile of wood to take the instructions. “They’re upside down.” You laugh as you flip the paper and hand it back to him.

“Oh! Well, that makes a lot more sense.” Chris chuckles, searching for the correct piece. “So the circle goes into the circle…” he mumbles, finally matching the two pieces. You laugh, returning to your part of the flatpack puzzle.

“Why don’t we just do this later, babe? We could be doing something much more exciting right now,” Chris suggests with a mischievous grin.

“Christopher. No. You’re not distracting me from building furniture with sex again!” you say, firmly putting your foot down.

“Well, at least I know how to make sure we finish that job…” he replies with a wink. 

Lee Know: Dancing in the kitchen when cooking

Sure, it was cliché, but nothing could stop you from dancing around the kitchen while cooking breakfast for the man you loved. Knowing Minho had a long night at the studio, you had your headphones on in a feeble attempt to keep the volume low so he could sleep. While he was a dancer by trade, you were more of a dancer by passion—or, instead, someone passionate about dancing despite being terrible at it, moving with the grace of an elephant in ballerina shoes.

It wasn’t unlike you to listen to your boyfriend's music in secret; you’d never admit it to his face—the relentless teasing about being a fan while sleeping in his bed wouldn’t be worth it. So, it was mornings like these where you could happily sing along to "God’s Menu" while whisking away at the pancake batter.

“Cooking like a chef, I’m a five-star Michelin,” you sang, mimicking Felix’s voice as you whisked and spun around the room, mindful of your voice level so you could bring Minho his pancakes in bed. After one last spin, you locked eyes with him, leaning against the counter by the door, clapping slowly, his heart eyes almost popping out of his head.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, jumping in surprise. “I tried to stay so quiet! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologised, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I don’t know what I’m more offended by: the fact you were going to let me miss this, or that you weren’t singing my part,” he teased with a playful grin.

Changbin: Repairing a broken appliance

"Binnie, baby, it’s a microwave. I think we should just call someone or maybe just buy a new one," you suggest, reaching for his toolkit to prevent the inevitable disaster of him putting something metal inside the machine.

“No, bunny, it’s fine! I know what I’m doing,” he insists, reclaiming the toolkit and placing it back on the counter.

“You’re in an idol group; you’re not exactly an electrician. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself… or me,” you say tentatively, cringing every time he picks up a tool.

“I’m in a studio with electrics all the time. Trust me, it’s fine,” he reassures you, though his expression is puzzled as he examines the back of the microwave. He picks up a screwdriver, placing it against the panel to unscrew it.

“Wait!” you quickly interject. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “It’s still plugged in,” you whisper, teeth clenched at the near-disaster. He puts down his tools and grabs you in his arms, sitting you on the kitchen island planting a kiss to your lips.

“Maybe we should just call someone,” Changbin laughs in defeat, finally relenting.

Hyunjin: Changing the bedsheets

“We were so close!” Hyunjin exclaimed, bursting into laughter as another corner of the bedsheet popped off the mattress and landed in the middle of the bed.

“Are you sure this is the right size?” you asked, gasping for air between laughs. This had happened at least three times, and you were starting to suspect he was doing it intentionally just to make you smile.

“It’s the same sheet! It’s just been washed,” he insisted, trying to secure the corner back in place and struggling yet again.

“I’ll work on the sheet; you focus on the duvet,” you insisted. “Watching you do this over and over is going to give me a hernia.” You playfully swatted him toward the pile of duvets and covers. He relented, letting you take charge of the bottom sheet. You quickly pushed the corner into place.

“See, that wasn’t too—oh, shit.” As soon as you went to admire your work, another corner sprang free, sending you both into another fit of laughter.

“If we’re lucky, we might get into bed before the sun rises,” Hyunjin teased.

Han: Leaving notes around the home

Han had been away on tour for three agonising months. It was always the same when he left; nothing ever felt right. The apartment was too quiet, too clean; it didn’t feel like home. After his first long trip and realising how much it affected you, he started leaving little notes around the house in unexpected places. Even three months later, you were still finding new ones.

You both love this tea; you save it for special occasions—family, guests, and moments like these when you’re missing him more than usual. As the kettle boils, you rummage through the back of the cupboard and find the little metal tin you keep it in. Opening the lid, the sweet aroma fills the air, instantly reminding you of him. Reaching inside, you pull out another note. Reading it brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly grab your phone to tell him you found another one.

“Missing me so much that you got the tea out? I guess you must have hit the three-month mark. I miss you too, angel. - Hannie.”

Felix: Playing a competitive video game

“No fair! You cheated!” Felix exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen in front of you both in shock. The tea on the table had gone cold, forgotten over the shouting and screaming from the two of you going head to head. Any on-looker wouldn’t believe you were madly in love with each other if they happened to pass by.

“Beginner's luck, what can I say?” you replied, leaning back into the sofa with your arms up, basking in your victory.

“It’s Mario Kart beautiful, there’s no beginner's luck!” He laughed, leaning over to kiss you as a reward.

“You know, baby, if you weren’t such a passenger princess—” you began, only to be cut off.

“Not you, too! I get enough of this from Channie-hyung. When do I have time to learn to drive?” he protested playfully, putting his remote down and moving closer to you.

“Well, Seungmin managed it…” you teased as he moved closer, trapping you beneath him with a roll of his eyes.

“One more round,” he pleaded, his lips brushing against yours. “Loser has to make dinner?” he suggested.

“Bet,” you whispered back, kissing him softly.

Seungmin: Deciding on what takeout to eat

You loved Seungmin wholeheartedly, but decisiveness wasn’t one of his strong suits. He sat at the table, surrounded by at least five different menus from local takeout spots, trying to decide what to order for dinner.

“At least three of these places serve ramen; just pick one!” you insisted, knowing you would end up ordering ramen anyway.

“But do you want ramen?” he asked, his eyes focused on the menus you hadn’t taken.

“Maybe after we’ve eaten…” you laughed at the innuendo, but Seungmin was too engrossed in the menus for the joke to register. “Minnie, love, it’s just food. I really don’t mind! Whatever you want,” you reiterated. He picked up a menu for a Chinese restaurant. Maybe he was going to stray out of his comfort zone. Then he put it back down and reached for one you had taken from him.

“Okay, okay. We’ll order from here. Their ramen is always good; can’t really go wrong,” he stated.

“You’re so predictable.” You laughed, standing up from the table to grab your phone to place the order.

“Hey! I just got the ramen joke!” he called after you, laughing.

IN: Binging trashy reality TV

“Come on! One more!” IN pleaded from the other side of the sofa. You were wrapped up in a long blanket, your legs intertwined with his, a bundle of snacks between you.

“Innie, I’m so tired!” you protested, eyes half-closed as he hit the 'Next Episode' button on the screen. You glanced at your phone; it was 11 pm. You’d been watching the same show for the past six hours, only taking breaks for meals and bathroom visits.

“Oh baby, but they’re just about to confront the cheater, and I don’t want to watch it without you…” His eyes were wide, pleading. How could you say no to him?

“Fine, one more,” you conceded easily. “But you’re bringing me breakfast in bed in the morning.” You joked, knowing he would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Truthfully, you were eager to see the cheater confronted by his three ex-mistresses.

“Deal!” he agreed, his face lighting up with excitement as the episode started.

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌!

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

[hhghgt]

Neighbors Buck & Eddie

Buck stood in the hallway, pacing with his phone pressed to his ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m trying to get someone to fix my ceiling light—again,” he said, his frustration evident. “It’s the third time this week. No, I don’t know what’s wrong; it just keeps—”

The door to the apartment across the hall creaked open, and Eddie stepped out, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Calling for backup already?” he teased, leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

Buck looked up, startled, then sighed in relief. “Eddie, hey. Yeah, I’m desperate at this point. The light’s out again, and I’ve got no idea what’s causing it.”

Eddie’s eyes softened with sympathy. “You know, you’ve got a perfectly good electrician living right here,” he said, gesturing to himself with a crooked grin.

Buck laughed, ending the call. “You sure you’re not sick of playing handyman for the new guy?”

“Not at all,” Eddie replied, his smile widening as he pushed off the doorframe. “Besides, it’s more fun than sitting around.” He grabbed his tool kit from just inside his door. “Show me what’s going on.”

Back in Buck’s apartment, Eddie set up his ladder dressed in a snug-fitting black tank top, tool belt slung low around his waist. As he climbed, Buck couldn’t help but glance up, his gaze lingering on the way Eddie’s jeans fit snugly around his legs and the curve of his shoulders as he worked. Eddie was muttering something about loose wiring, but Buck’s attention was caught on how effortlessly he seemed to fill the space around him.

“Got your eyes on something, or are you just supervising?” Eddie called down suddenly, his tone playful.

Buck’s cheeks flushed. “Uh—supervising,” he stammered. “Definitely supervising.”

Eddie chuckled, a deep sound that sent a shiver down Buck’s spine. “Good to know.”

When Eddie stepped down a few minutes later, his face was slightly flushed, and he looked Buck straight in the eyes. “Fixed it. But, you know,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “I wouldn’t mind if you kept needing me for a little while longer.”

Buck swallowed, heart thudding. “Yeah?” he murmured, the space between them narrowing.

Eddie’s gaze flicked down to Buck’s lips, lingering before meeting his eyes again. “Yeah,” he said, voice low and rough. He took a step back, giving Buck just enough room to breathe, though the charged air between them didn’t dissipate. “Call me if it flickers again,” he added with a grin, holding Buck’s gaze as he packed up his tools.

Buck nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Eddie’s. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Eddie left with a lazy smile and a parting, “See you around, neighbor,” leaving Buck standing there, pulse racing and thoughts tangled up in more than just loose wires

[mostlysignssomeportents]

You can’t shop your way out of a monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

If you're running a business, you can either invest at being good at your business, or good at Google SEO. Choose the former and your customers will love you – but they won't be able to find you, thanks to the people who choose the latter. And if you're going to invest in top-notch SEO, why bother investing in quality at all?

For more than a decade, Google has promised that it would do something about "lead gens" – services that spoof Google into thinking that they are local businesses, pushing down legit firms on both regular search and Google Maps (these downranked businesses invested in quality, not SEO, remember). Search for a roofer, a plumber, an electrician, or a locksmith (especially a locksmith), and most or all of the results will be lead-gens. They'll take your call, pretend to be a local business, and then call up some half-qualified bozo to come out and charge you four times the going rate for substandard work:

https://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/31/business/fake-online-locksmiths-may-be-out-to-pick-your-pocket-too.html

Some of them just take your money and they "go back to the shop for a tool" and never return:

https://www.riverfronttimes.com/news/when-a-fake-business-used-a-real-st-louis-address-things-got-weird-32087998

Google has been promising to fix this since the late aughts, and to be fair, it's a little better. There was once a time when a map of Manhattan showed more locksmiths than taxis:

https://blumenthals.com/blog/2009/02/18/google-maps-proves-more-locksmiths-in-nyc-than-cabs/

But GMaps is trapped in the enshittification squeeze. On the one hand, the company wants to provide a good and reliable map. On the other hand, the company makes money selling "ads" that are actually payola, where a business can pay to get to the top of the listings or get displayed on the map itself. Zoom out of Google's map of central London and the highlighted landmarks are a hilarious mix of "organic" and paid listings: the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, the Barbican, the London Eye…and a random oral and maxillofacial clinic in the financial district:

https://twitter.com/dylanbeattie/status/1764711667663831455

Hell of a job "organizing the world's information and making it universally accessible and useful," Big G. Doubtless the average Londoner finds the presence of this clinic super helpful in orienting themselves relative to the map on their phone screens, and it's a real service to tourists hoping to hit all the major landmarks.

It's not just Maps users who'd noticed the rampant enshittification. Even the original design team is so horrified they're moved to speak out about the moral injury they experience seeing the product they worked so hard on turned into a giant pile of shit:

https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182

Now, when it comes to locksmiths, I'm lucky. My neighborhood in Burbank includes the wonderful Golden State Lock and Safe, which has been in business since 1942:

https://www.goldenstatelock.com/

But you wouldn't know it from searching GMaps for a locksmith near me. That search turns up a long list of scams:

https://www.google.com/maps/search/locksmith/@34.1750451,-118.369948,14z/data=!3m1!4b1?entry=ttu

It also turns up plenty of Keyme machines – these are private-equity backed, self-serve key-cutting machines placed in grocery stores. Despite Keyme calling itself a "locksmith," it's just a badly secured, overcaptilized, enshittification-bound system for collecting and retaining shapefiles for the keys to millions of homes, cross-referenced with billing information that will make it easy for the eventual hackers to mass-produce keys for all those poor suckers' houses.

(Hilariously, Keyme claims to be an "AI" company):

https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20200114005194/en/KeyMe-Raises-35-Million-to-Further-Its-Mission-of-Building-the-Premier-Locksmith-Services-Company-in-the-Nation

But despite the fact that you can literally see the Golden State storefront from Google Streetview, Google Maps claims to have no knowledge of it. Instead, Streetview labels Golden State "Keyme" – and displays a preview showing a locksmith using a tool to break into a jeep (I'd dearly love to know how the gadget next to the Slurpee machine at the 7-Eleven will drive itself to your jeep and unlock the door for you when you lose your keys):

https://www.google.com/maps/place/KeyMe+Locksmiths/@34.1752624,-118.3487531,3a,75y,350.19h,90.21t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssHrtqjqvgFir3NBauMy13Q!2e0!7i16384!8i8192!4m15!1m8!3m7!1s0x80c2959cd65dbb1b:0x4b3744cf87492a71!2sBurbank+Blvd+%26+N+Hollywood+Way,+Burbank,+CA+91505!3b1!8m2!3d34.1750025!4d-118.3493484!16s%2Fg%2F11f37_3lq8!3m5!1s0x80c2951cedbf4d39:0xe8ff9fd5872e66e9!8m2!3d34.1755176!4d-118.349!16s%2Fg%2F11mw7nr4fx?entry=ttu

It's pretty clear to me what's going on here. Keyme has hired some SEO creeps and/or paid off Google, flooding the zone with listings for its machines. Meanwhile, Golden State, being merely good at locksmithing, has lost the SEO wars. Perhaps Golden State could shift some of its emphasis from being good at locksmithing in order to get better at SEO, but this is a race that will always be won by the firm that puts the most into SEO, which will always be the firm that puts the least into quality.

Whenever I write about this stuff, people inevitably ask me which search engine they should use, if not Google?

And there's the rub.

Google used predatory pricing and anticompetitive mergers to acquire a 90% search market-share. The company spends more than $26b/year buying default position in every place where you might possibly encounter a new search engine. This created the "kill zone" – the VC's term of art for businesses that no one will invest in, because Google makes sure that no one will ever find out it exists:

https://www.theverge.com/23802382/search-engine-google-neeva-android

That's why the only serious competitor to Google is Bing, another Big Tech company (Bing is also the primary source of results on Duckduckgo, which is why DDG sometimes makes exceptions for Microsoft's privacy-invading tracking):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DuckDuckGo#Controversies

Google tells us that the quid-pro-quo of search monopolization is search excellence. The hundreds of billions it makes every year through monopoly control gives it the resources it needs to fight spammers and maintain search result quality. Anyone who's paid attention recently knows that this is bullshit: Google search quality is in free-fall, across all its products:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

But Google doesn't seem to think it has a problem. Rather than devoting all its available resources to fighting botshit, spam and scams, the company set $80 billion dollars alight last year with a stock buyback that was swiftly followed with 12,000 layoffs, followed by multiple subsequent rounds of layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

The scams that slip through Google's cracks are sometimes nefarious, but just as often they're decidedly amateurish, the kind of thing that Google could fix by throwing money at the problem, say, to validate that new ads for confirmed Google merchants come from the merchant's registered email addresses and go to the merchant's registered website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Search is a capital intensive business, and there are real returns to scale, as the UK Competition and Market Authority's excellent 2020 study describes:

https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/5fe4957c8fa8f56aeff87c12/Appendix_I_-_search_quality_v.3_WEB_.pdf

But Google doesn't seem to think that its search needs that $80 billion to fight the spamwars. That's the thing about monopolists, they get complacent. As Lily Tomlin's "Ernestine the AT&T operator" used to say, "We don't care, we don't have to, we're the phone company."

That's why I'm so excited about the DOJ Antitrust Division monopolization case against Google. Trusting one company to "organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful," was a failure:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/justice-department-sues-google-monopolizing-digital-advertising-technologies

I understand why people want to know which search engine they should use instead of Google, and I get why, "There aren't any good search engines" is such an unsatisfactory answer. I understand why each fresh round of printer-company fuckery prompts people to ask "which printer should I get?" and I understand why "There are only six major printer companies and they're all suffering from end-stage enshittification" isn't what anyone wants to hear.

We want to be able to vote with our wallets, because it's so much faster and more convenient than voting with our ballots. But the vote-with-your-wallet election is rigged for the people with the thickest wallets. Try as hard as you'd like, you just can't shop your way out of a monopoly – that's like trying to recycle your way out of the climate emergency. Systemic problems need systemic solutions – not individual ones.

That's why the new antitrust matters so much. The answer to monopolies is to break up companies, block and unwind mergers, ban deceptive and unfair conduct. "Caveat emptor" is the scammer's motto. You shouldn't have to be an expert on lead gen scams to hire a locksmith without getting ripped off.

There are good products and services out there. Earlier this year, we decided to install a (non-networked) programmable pushbutton lock. I asked Deviant Ollam – whom I know from Defcon's Lockpicking Village – for a recommendation and he suggested the Schlage FE595:

https://www.schlage.com/en/home/products/FE595PLYFFFFLA.html

I liked it so much I bought another one for my office door. Eric from Golden State Lock and Safe installed it while I wrote this blog-post. It's great. I recommend both of 'em – 10/10, would do business again.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#vapor-locksmith

Image: alicia rae (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kehole_Red.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

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Budhiargomiko (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wasteland.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crossed Wires 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: silverfox!Andy Barber, Cole Turner

Summary: you try to balance your work with your private life as your boss and a new client try to blur the lines. (short!reader)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The gravel mulches loudly under the tires of the truck. You grip the ridged wheel as the seat belt strains against your shoulder. You make yourself sit back, the seat slid up as far as it will go. Still, the bumper shortens your perspective.

You figured you’d get a call to the old Orson place when you heard it sold. That was months ago though and the new owner finally set down roots there. You haven’t seen them, you’ve only heard the whispers that accompany any happening in Hammer Ford; from a new recipe to the juiciest of scandals. You pay much attention to any of it.

You keep your hands at ten and two as you follow the long gravelly drive to the farmhouse facade. There’s a single car parked outside the garage. It’s a sleek white SUV, luxury by the looks of the hood ornament. It’s not what you expect around here. That paint job will be dusty in now time, if not scratched by errant pebbles.

You pull in and shut off the engine. You undo your seat belt and check your watch. Right on schedule. You open the door and step on the rusted step below the door, letting yourself down with a hop. Your tan work boots kick up dirt as you round to the passengers side and swing the door open to retrieve your heavy work bag.

You sling the thick strap over your shoulder and snap the door as you head towards the house. You rest your hand on the side of the bag as you near the steps, searching for any sign of life. The stairs creak as you climb onto the low porch.

“Can I help you?” The deep voice startles you. 

You blink and turn to face the man sitting on the wooden boards, bolts and screws around him along with metal parts and wooden boards. You hadn’t seen him through the tight slats of the railing.

You keep your usual vague stare as you sniff, “got a call about the breaker.”

He squints at you, a squiggle forming between his brows. He’s older. His grey hair has a single bolt of its former dirty blond just above his forehead. Despite the heat and the dirt sprinkled over the boards, he wears a pair of dark slacks and a button-up rolled to his elbows.

“You’re the electrician,” he states as he sets aside the small screwdriver in his hand. He stands with a grunt, grasping his knee before he straightens.

“Sure am,” you reply flatly.

“I spoke with a man,” he intones, hands going to his hips as he looks down at you.

“That’s would be my boss. Cole.”

“That’s his name,” he steps forward, wiping his hand on his shirt, staining the light gray fabric, “Andy.”

He offers his hand and you shake it curtly. All the farmers pride themselves on keeping a firm grip and you never faltered with them. He squeezes before he lets you go. He doesn’t have the typical callouses, you even have a few.

“How’d you get into this work?” he wonders.

“It’s work. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t– I don’t mean anything,” he stammers.

“Didn’t think you did,” you sniff, “so, what am I looking at?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” he reaches back to rub his neck. The power keeps… flickering.”

“Ah, been a while, probably just need to wait for it to stabilize. City worker came out months ago for the meters,” you explain.

“Right, well, I heard sizzling.”

“Show me where you heard it.”

He nods and gestures you towards the door. Before you can reach it, he pulls the wooden screen door back and waits for you to enter ahead of him. He tells you it’s just down the hall and stop you near the basement door. You peer down the stairs and flick the light switch. There’s a low buzz.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it,” you look up, “but I can have a look.”

“Oh, okay,” he utters, “I also had another question. You might know something about it.”

You look at him. He seems put off by your expressionless stare.

“I wanted to install an automatic opener in the garage…”

“I can do the wiring, sure, long as you buy the parts,” you answer. “I can give you recommendations, odds are, you’ll need a whole new door as well.”

“Sure,” he agrees uneasily.

“Can schedule an appointment when you decide,” you turn your palm out, “I’ll just go grab my ladder and have a look then.”

You go to step past him but he’s not quick enough. You nearly collide and find yourself moving back and forth with him, trying to get by. You stop and stare. He stills himself and turns sideways, waving you by. You pass and let out a slow breath through your nose.

You stalk back down the hall and onto the porch. You hear him following you. You come down the steps as he continues his close pursuit. You don’t exactly know what he’s doing but you won’t ask. Cole says you need to work on customer service and not tell people to get out of your way.

You go around the bed of the truck and open the back. You reach for the ladder but another arm stretches further and faster. He pulls the ladder out before you can and you step back with a grunt.

“Hey, I can get it,” you insist.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind helping.”

“So why am I here?” You ask curtly, immediately knowing you asked a bad question.

“Sorry, I was just… being nice,” he says.

“Right,” you try to soften your tone, “it’s just… it’s my job. I can carry the ladder.”

“I know you can,” he looks down at you and you feel even smaller. You don’t like it when they try to play gentleman, it’s condescending. You might be short but you’re strong enough. 

“Thanks,” you grab the ladder and yank it from his grasp.

He lets go and you continue past him. He huffs and follows a few paces back from the end of the ladder. You angle it up the steps.

“At least let me get the door,” he inches past you, “okay?”

“Thanks,” you repeat in the same even keel.

You enter and take the ladder down the hall. He hovers just down the hallway, watching as he shifts his weight between his feet. He’s the worst kind of customer, the kind that have to supervise. 

You step up the ladder and look past it. “Mind holding it?”

“You sure?” He gives a trite arch of his brow.

You blink and keep your eyes from rolling, “I’d appreciate it, sir.”

He comes forward and braces the ladder staunchly. You climb up and suppress a snarl. City folk think you’re all backwards out here but they can’t wrap their damn head around a woman with a brain.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Trump loyalist Russ Vought pushes fascistic ‘post-Constitutional’ vision for second Trump term

Beth Reinhard at WaPo:

A battle-tested D.C. bureaucrat and self-described Christian nationalist is drawing up detailed plans for a sweeping expansion of presidential power in a second Trump administration. Russ Vought, who served as the former president’s budget chief, calls his political strategy for razing long-standing guardrails “radical constitutionalism.” He has helped craft proposals for Donald Trump to deploy the military to quash civil unrest, seize more control over the Justice Department and assert the power to withhold congressional appropriations — and that’s just on Trump’s first day back in office. Vought, 48, is poised to steer this agenda from an influential perch in the White House, potentially as Trump’s chief of staff, according to some people involved in discussions about a second term who spoke on the condition of anonymity to describe private conversations. Since Trump left office, Vought has led the Center for Renewing America, part of a network of conservative advocacy groups staffed by former and potentially future Trump administration officials. Vought’s rise is a reminder that if Trump is reelected, he has said he will surround himself with loyalists eager to carry out his wishes, even if they violate traditional norms against executive overreach.

“We are living in a post-Constitutional time,” Vought wrote in a seminal 2022 essay, which argued that the left has corrupted the nation’s laws and institutions. Last week, after a jury convicted Trump of falsifying business records, Vought tweeted: “Do not tell me that we are living under the Constitution.” Vought aims to harness what he calls the “woke and weaponized” bureaucracy that stymied the former president by stocking federal agencies with hardcore disciples who would wage culture wars on abortion and immigration. The proposals championed by Vought and other Trump allies to fundamentally reset the balance of power would represent a historic shift — one they see as a needed corrective. “The president has to be able to drive the bureaucracy instead of being trapped by it,” said Newt Gingrich, the former House speaker who led the GOP’s 1994 takeover of Congress. Vought did not respond to interview requests and a detailed list of questions from The Washington Post. This account of his plans for Trump’s potential first day back in office and the rest of a second term comes from interviews with people involved in the planning, a review of Vought’s public remarks and writings, and Center for Renewing America correspondence obtained by The Post.

[...] Vought’s long careera s a staffer in Congress and at federal agencies has made him an asset to Project 2025, an initiative led by the Heritage Foundation, a conservative think tank, to lay the groundwork for a second Trump term. Vought wrote the chapter on the executive office of the president in Project 2025’s 920-page blueprint, and he is developing its playbook for the first 180 days, according to the people involved in the effort. “We’re going to plant the flags now,” Vought told Trump’s former strategist, Stephen K. Bannon, on his far-right podcast. “It becomes a new governing consensus of the Republican Party.”

[...]

From fiscal hawk to MAGA warrior

Vought was raised in Trumbull, Conn., the son of an electrician and a teacher and the youngest of seven children. Brought up in what he has characterized as a “very strong, Bible-preaching, Bible-teaching church,” he attended Christian camps every summer. He received a bachelor’s degree from Wheaton College, an evangelical Christian school in Illinois, and headed to Capitol Hill near the end of the Clinton administration. Vought mastered the federal budget working for fiscal conservatives, including Sen. Phil Gramm and Rep. Jeb Hensarling, both Texas Republicans, while getting his law degree from George Washington University.

Years before the Freedom Caucus enforced right-wing ideology on Capitol Hill, Vought was the bomb-throwing executive director of the conservative House Republican Study Committee. His prime targets: big government and entitlement spending. He worked under Pence, then a congressman, who called him “one of the strongest advocates for the principles that guide us” in 2010. That year, as the populist tea party movement was surging, Vought joined the Heritage Foundation’s new lobbying arm. From a Capitol Hill townhouse dubbed the “frat house,” Vought and his other brash, young male colleagues tormented Republican leaders by grading their fealty to fiscal conservatism. “Russ was determined to make our scorecard tougher than others out there,” said Republican strategist Tim Chapman, who worked closely with Vought at Heritage Action. “He wanted to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

Joining the Trump transition allowed Vought to put his principles to paper. Later, Pence cast the tiebreaking vote for his confirmation in 2018 as deputy director of the Office of Management and Budget. Vought ascended to the top post in 2019. But instead of slashing spending as Vought and other budget officials recommended, Trump resisted significant reductions to domestic programs and backed trillions in emergency pandemic assistance. The national debt ballooned by more than $8 trillion. Vought blamed Congress. And he stood by Trump throughout his tumultuous presidency, as a procession of other Cabinet officials balked at breaching what they viewed as ethical and legal boundaries. “A bunch of people around him who were constantly sitting on eggs and saying, ‘Oh my gosh, he’s getting me to violate the law,’” was how Vought later described the mat a Heritage Foundation event. By contrast, Vought found workarounds to fulfill the president’s ambitions that tested legal limits and his own record opposing executive overreach and deficit spending.

When Congress blocked additional funding for Trump’s border wall, the budget office in early 2020 redirected billions of dollars from the Pentagon to what became one of the most expensive federal infrastructure projects in U.S. history. And it was Vought’s office that held up military aid to Ukraine as Trump pressed the government to dig up dirt on Joe Biden, prompting the president’s first impeachment. Vought defied a congressional subpoena during the impeachment inquiry, which he mocked as a “#shamprocess.” The Government Accountability Office concluded that his office broke the law, a claim Vought disputed.

Near the end of Trump’s presidency, Vought helped launch his biggest broadside at the “deep state” — an order to strip the civil service protections of up to tens of thousands of federal employees. The administration did not have time to fully implement the order.

After the 2020 election, as Trump refused to concede, Biden officials complained that Vought was impeding the transition. Vought rejected that accusation — but wrote that his office would not “dismantle this Administration’s work.” He was already planning ahead; bylaws for what would become the Center for Renewing America were adopted on the day of Biden’s inauguration, records show. “There’s a marriage of convenience between Russ and Trump,” said Chapman, senior adviser at Pence’s group, Advancing American Freedom. “Russ has been pursuing an ideological agenda for a long time and views Trump’s second term as the best way to achieve it, while Trump needs people in his second term who are loyal and committed and adept at using the tools of the federal government.”

Radical constitutionalism

Since Biden took office, Vought has turned the Center for Renewing America into a hub of Trump loyalists, including Jeffrey Clark, a former Justice Department lawyer later charged in Georgia with trying to overturn Biden’s victory in 2020. Vought called Clark, who has pleaded not guilty, “a patriot who risked his career to help expose voter fraud.” “I think the election was stolen,” Vought said in a 2022 interview with Trump activists Diamond and Silk. He is no longer in touch with Pence, his longtime patron, who has said Trump’s efforts to overturn the vote disqualified him from serving as president again, according to people familiar with the relationship who spoke on the condition of anonymity to describe a sensitive topic. The Center for Renewing America is among several pro-Trump groups incubated by the Conservative Partnership Institute, founded in 2017 by former senator Jim DeMint (R-S.C.). The center, a tax-exempt group that is not required to publicly disclose its donors, raised $4.75 million in 2023, according to its annual report.

As Vought and other Trump allies work on blueprints for a second term, he is pushing a strategy he calls “radical constitutionalism.” The left has discarded the Constitution, Vought argues, so conservatives need to rise up, wrest power from the federal bureaucracy and centralize authority in the Oval Office. “Our need is not just to win congressional majorities that blame the other side or fill seats on court benches to meddle at the margins,” he wrote in the 2022 essay. “It is to cast ourselves as dissidents of the current regime and to put on our shoulders the full weight of envisioning, articulating, and defending what a Radical Constitutionalism requires in the late hour that our country finds itself in, and then to do it.”

In practice, that could mean reinterpreting parts of the Constitution to achieve policy goals — such as by defining illegal immigration as an “invasion,” which would allow states to use wartime powers to stop it. “We showed that millions of illegal aliens coming across, and Mexican cartels holding operational control of the border, constitute an invasion,” Vought wrote. “This is where we need to be radical in discarding or rethinking the legal paradigms that have confined our ability to return to the original Constitution.”

Vought also embraces Christian nationalism, a hard-right movement that seeks to infuse Christianity into all aspects of society, including government. He penned a 2021 Newsweek essay that disputed allegations of bias and asked, “Is There Anything Actually Wrong With ‘Christian Nationalism?’” He argued for “an institutional separation between church and state, but not the separation of Christianity from its influence on government and society.” Looking at immigration through that lens, Vought has called for “mass deportation” of illegal immigrants and a “Christian immigration ethic” that would strictly limit the types of people allowed entry into the United States. At a 2023 conference organized by Christian and right-wing groups, he questioned whether legal immigration is “healthy” because, in a politically polarized climate, “immigration only increases and exasperates the divisions that we face in the country.”

WaPo reports that Trump loyalist Russ Vought is set to push for a fascistic "post-Constitutional" vision for second Trump term should Donald Trump get elected.

[perfectlyperfectstranger]

Corey Cunningham x Reader

Gif is NOT mine

Note: No gender is specified for the reader im almost 100% positive.

This is my first time writing and this does end on a cliffhanger im sorry😭 just so i can think the ending over make sure it goes how I want it to.

This follows Halloween ends storyline btw.

Warning: Slight cheating at the end but not really since Allyson and Corey aren’t confirmed to be together.

You and Allyson had always been close friends so when one day she calls you after a shift talking about some really cute guy with brown hair and glasses she worked on earlier in the day you had to joke. “He wasn’t like, dead was he?” You snicker while saying. “No he wasn’t dead, he was very much alive.” Allyson says and from here tone you can practically hear the eye roll. You chuckle “Thats great for you Allyson. Listen Ill call you later I gotta close up over here.” You both say your goodbyes.

As you are locking up each window you hear something. You raise a brow reaching for your phone and a heavy object near by which happens to be a wrench. Turning on the flash of your phone you start making your way towards the noise only to find a man standing outside the front door looking slightly frantic. You quickly walk over and open the door. “Is there something that I can do for you?” You ask the man who only stares for a moment trying to group together what he wants to say. “…You wouldn’t happen to have a cable jumper and a battery would you?” He says in a soft and quiet voice. You think for a moment debating your choices he notices your hesitance. “Please..? Even just a ride home would suffice. I could always just come back in the morning with what I need.” You sigh. “Alright let me just grab my things then we can get you home.” You step aside and let him in hurrying to gather your things placing down the wrench. He watches you move around grouping up your things. “So you’re a electrician huh? Im a mechanic ” He says attempting conversation his voice shaky and nervous. “Really? What shop d’you work at?” You say as you nod your head towards the door signaling ‘we can go now’. As you both open your car door he responds. “I uh work with my stepdad not many other places will hire me really.” You turn your head to look at him before starting the car. “I don’t see why not you look like you’re in perfect condition for some work.” He seems slightly surprised at your words but decides not to question how you live here and don’t know him. “Im Corey by the way..” You keep your eyes on the road. “Im Y/n, now then Corey. Wanna tell me where your place is?”

After arriving to his home you stop. “Thank you for the ride you really helped me out.” He says a little rushed you nod your head to him and smile softly. “Its no problem. You have a good night Corey.” After you say goodbye you drive off headed back to your own place.

A few days pass by and your working late once again a couple of minutes till close. The door opens and you don’t look up for a moment till the person stops at the desk in front of you. You look up from what you were doing. “Hey Y/n!” A slight smile spreads across your face as you roll your eyes. “Geez you’re coming to annoy me on the job now?” You say teasing as you look back to Allyson. She scoffs “Whatever you don’t know what you’d do without me.” You chuckle softly and ask her what it was she came by for. “Well…” She says reaching into her bag and pulling out a small poster promoting a halloween party at the near by bar. “I don’t know Allyson.. You know I don’t really care for these things.” But with how persistent she is you eventually find no point in further arguing. “Please.. Im gonna bring the cute guy from the hospital too.” You roll you eyes and smile. “Alright.. are we supposed to wear costumes?” She nods at your question. “You should dress sexy you never go out, jump at the opportunity.” She smirks.

The time for this small event at the bar approaches and you’re getting ready your hair and makeup done putting on your costume. You look at yourself in the mirror and shake your head with a smile thinking of how in the world Allyson convinced you into agreeing.

You get to the bar and call Allyson to see if shes already here. She picks up and says she coming out right now. You see her and step out of your car. She smiles “You look so good!” You look at her outfit “I thought you were dressing up too?” She shrugs with a smirk showing she never had the intention to actually wear a costume. You sigh and smile at your sneaky friend as she starts to drag you inside the bar. She takes you to the counter where a man is sitting with a scarecrow mask on. “Corey this is my friend Y/n.” You raise a brow curious if this was the same Corey that came by your work a few days ago. He has the same brown curly hair. Corey moves his mask to the side and shyly smiles, you softly smile. “Hey Corey.” Allyson raises a brow as to say ‘You know each other?’ You explain how the two of you met.

As the night goes on you feel yourself let loose. You all are having a good time when Corey heads back up to the bar leaving you and Allyson to dance. When you suddenly see him dart out the door Allyson sees too and starts heading for the door she asks you to come with her just in case he’s feeling sick. Once you get out he looks frantic like on the night you met but more scared and worried. You tune out there conversation deciding its not really any of your business that is till you hear a very upset Corey. “Im not your fucking project Allyson!” She tries to defend her words but he’s already turning and walking off seeming rigid. “Y/n.. Do me a favor and follow him. I wanna be alone and clear my head.” You look at her sad and nod giving her a hug before jogging to catch up with Corey. “Hey…” He takes in a breath trying to calm himself. “You doing okay.?” You ask softly. He nods, you see a car driving up in your peripheral as the car comes to a stop in front of you Corey seems to freeze. You narrow your eyes and watch as a group of teens step out of the car. They immediately start taking to harassing Corey talking down to him he’s holding his weight well for now so you don’t step in. That is until the boys start putting their hands on him after he said some stuff about the boys dad. You shove one away and try to smoothly knock him out not wanting to fight with a kid. But thats when you see that Corey has gone over the bridge thats when you stop fighting with them.

You immediately run to the slope connecting under and above the bridge you make it down and don’t see Corey. You feel yourself begin to panic when you hear something from the sewer tunnel. You reach for your phone turning on the flashlight before walking in. Then you see him leaned against some concrete out cold you immediately try waking him. “Corey.. Corey come one you gotta get up.” Shaking him trying to make him open his eyes you hear him groan. “Cor-“ Then suddenly everything goes black.

You start waking up groggily blinking your eyes. You look around at your surroundings looking to your right you see Corey still unconscious. The events of last night begin coming back and suddenly your in a rush to get up and get Corey up as well. “Corey!” You say getting up whisper shouting. “Corey lets go we gotta go!” You say shaking him awake with urgency in your voice. He starts to blink awake “Hey.. Come on lets go.” You say helping him up hurrying to get out of here. He walks behind you, You make it to the end turning to make sure Corey is still right there. Hes a little bit behind your about to call out to him when suddenly a hand reaches out and chokes him. You gasp and are sent into a panic looking around for something anything heavy to hit this random arm with. You see a wooden plank and grab it before immediately hitting this mysterious arm the plank breaks and you look over where the arm came from and lock eyes with the Michael Myers. You freeze and he drops Corey once you realize he let go of Corey you grab his arm and immediately rush out of there scared.

You both had been walking for some time not saying anything when a car pulls beside Corey the window rolls down the man speaks to him but Corey says nothing the man quickly drives off seeming startled.

The two of you head to your place. After getting there you ask Corey to go take a shower so the sewer smell goes away you walking to do the same after giving him a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt. You exit your bathroom dressed and he exits the guest bathroom in the clothes you gave him. “Corey come sit on the couch.” You say softly. He does as you ask and you go to grab things to clean his wounds and wrap them. You kneel in front of him cleaning the scraps on his face. “How did you land.” He looks at you for the first time since getting out of the shower. “What..” You make eye contact with him. “How did you land?” Asking him slower than before. “M’back.” You stand asking him to lay on his stomach lifting his shirt to look at his bruised back. You take a ice pack and slowly place it on his back to sooth the bruises. Corey whimpers slightly “Sorry.” You say softly.

After all those events you didn’t feel quite normal. You don’t know what it was but it feels like theres this hunger when you get angry the need, urge. You try not to think about it much not hearing from Corey or Allyson. That is till you get a phone call. “Hello.” You say without much emotion in your voice. The person on the other end doesn’t respond for a moment. “Its Allyson I need you to come by Corey had earlier and I want to talk to you.” You make your way over there Allyson ranting to you about the odd things she was seeing happening with Corey. “Did something happen that night after the party?” She asks you, You make eye contact with her. “No we just walked and eventually got to his place and split off.” You lied, you aren’t sure why but you did. You soon enough leave Allyson’s place heading to your car not before Laurie stops you. You look her in her eyes, she seems startled immediately moving out of your way and deciding whatever she was going to say is no longer important. Once your in your car you start pulling out making your way to Corey’s. You knock on his door, a older woman answers. “Is Corey here.” You say nearly monotone. She seems to be slightly agitated with your question her husband stepping to the door and pulling her away before telling you Corey was upstairs. You open his bedroom door, he’s standing in front of his mirror with his scarecrow mask on you look around and spot a mask on his dresser. Examining it before pulling it over your head, looking in the mirror before looking over at Corey and moving the mask to the side. Leaning in unknowingly…

[shiralol101hehe]

Beatles Monthly — 6/01/64

TRANSCRIPT OF:

I VISITED THE BEATLES ON THE SET - Elizabeth SACKS

“I was lucky enough to be invited by Mr. Shenson, the film producer, to come and watch some scenes for the Beatlefilm being completed in a London theatre. Of course I was thrilled and excited beyond all comprehension. The interior of the theatre had been changed slightly, to give it the appearance of a television studio. On both sides of the stage, large glass booths had been erected, there were several monitor sets at the front of the stage, and the floor was a mass of tangled wires from the cameras, guitars and other electrical equipment. The only people that were on the stage were connected with the film, but, even even so it appeared to be crowded with technicians, electricians, continuity girls, clapper boys, make-up men, stand-ins, hairdressers and the like, not to mention the producer and director! One would never have guessed that the Beatles were in the building from the air of relaxation and friendliness which pervaded the theatre. I, however, felt at a point of near-hysteria, and I struggled to control my nerves with a very "put-on" smile!

"All of suddy", I noticed Paul, standing in the aisle, giggling quietly to him-self. I hastily put my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream and I fairly goggled at the sight of darling PAUL! so near that I could have reached out and touched him. He saw me, suddenly and waved cheerily, calling out "H'lo, Juv!". As I started to sink through the ground, birs. Shenson called him over to meet me. Well, what can I say? Just that he is about twice as goodlooking as the photos make out, and extremely easy to get on with. To my surprise, I found my nerves starting to calm down in his company and I was soon perfectly relaxed. I was able to talk to Paul for several minutes, and then I went along to the canteen to meet George and have a cup of tea.

George was in the thick of an interview with a reporter from a musical paper, and I could not interrupt it, but when it was over I was introduced to him. Mrs. Shenson told him that he is my fave Beatle, and he pretended to go all shy, and hid his face in his jacket! George is a lot quieter than Paul, and he also looks better "in the flesh" than on paper. He is, in addition, fab, gear, great, and...oooooooooooooooooo!!! (CENSORED)!

After tea with George, I went back to the stalls to watch a scene being shot.John had to lie still on the ground at the side of the stage while Lionel Blair and his dancers went through a short routine. This took, in fact, HALF AN HOUR to film, during which time John did not BUDGE! He lay as if in a coma on the stage. After this, he got up, pensively rubbed his head, walked across the stage, and casually began combing his hair, apparently none the worse for his long "kip"! As John walked up the aisle (l) to the canteen, Mrs. Shenson stopped him to show him that he had been quoted in yet another American magazine, which he read with some interest. Then he was introduced to me, and he said that he liked me for reading his book, which he autographed with a funny little cartoon: a head on two legs to be exact (any suggestions!).

John is a very entertaining person, and a completely lovable character. Unfortunately, I was unable to meet Ringo, for he was playing cards with some engineers in the canteen. I think he must have been losing, as Mr. Shenson walked up to him and said; "Snap, Ringo!", to which he replied: "You must be joking".

The Beatles then prepared to shoot a number for the film. Stand-ins were used before the Beatles were called, to make sure that lighting, focus, "and that were just so. Then a man walked up and down, calling "Ringo. Ringo please", through a megaphone, but how was he to know that Ringo was still playing cards! The true wit and idiocy of the Beatles was well portrayed in their goonery on stage between takes. For instance, John would bawl: “HeeeeellIlIppppp!!!" to the accompaniment of Mr. Starr on drums while George quietly strummed a Spanish-type guitar solo to himself and Paul fiddled with a camera. No-one, however, paid much attention to the Beatles fooling around (I expect they're all used to it) but I watched the Beatles like a hawk!

When, at last the Beatles decided to get down to shooting the number, I was more than ready to hear it. I heard it about five times I) and though I am not allowed to give any details like its title or anything, I can tell you that it's really great, and, if it's anything to go by, the film will be a SMASH!!! My day at "Beatlestudio" was a day that I shall remember forever, due to the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Shenson, who are really kind, helpful people, and also to the surprising sweetness and patience with which I was treated by the Beatles. This I particularly appreciate, because they are always very pushed for time, and it was really fab of them to make time like that to talk to me.

Bless you, Beatles. You're the gear.”

[poem-today]

A poem by Brian Brodeur

THE CARPENTER'S TALE

There's going to be an accounting. And it'll be the weird stats that come out of somewhere. And this is one of the stranger ones.

—Kerry Breen, This American Life, 8/13/2021

Most of us laughed at being called "essential" in those first weeks of New York's quarantine. We'd grease a hinge or patch a rotten sill,

replacing sunk beams under a snack machine, painting classrooms. Though it felt like cheating, I'd never seen the schools look so pristine.

Then, in April, at our team meeting, our boss clears his throat and his voice softens. Putting down the cruller he's been eating,

he says, "Next week, we start building coffins." One of us laughs. Another spills his coffee. I tell my boss, "Get out of here. Build coffins."

He looks up from his clipboard and glares at me, then gives us all the plans his boss gave him: "We'll be building coffins for the city."

On Monday, I show up at this school gym outfitted as a shop. On cinderblocks, beside the bleachers with the lights turned dim,

our prototype: a six-foot plywood box standing on its end where the feet would be. Above the prototype and scoreboard clocks,

a championship banner's "Victory" had begun to sag where flags of UN nations cling to the ceiling. Under Germany,

we set up cutting and assembly stations, a place where we can urethane the boards. Electricians rig fans for ventilation

and 10 of us plug in extension cords. We stack up drafts of plywood on the floor— a draft is 50 sheets. Our only words

concern the lack of Mets and Yankees scores, how hot the gym gets, who brought Gatorade. We run through 2x4s and they bring more—

wash, rinse, repeat. I mean, we're getting paid, but after so long it occurs to me: My god, they really need this many made?

No one gives us an end. We build 150, stacking them from one side of the gym to the other, five coffins high—no one can see

above the shrink-wrapped freight pallets of them. I back the forklift into the elevator and drive down Concourse near the stadium

and down another street to a tractor trailer. The forklift's so slow people honk at me. Honk at a guy carrying coffins—or

scream at me to move. This goes on three weeks. I find it—I don't know—bizarre, I guess, not one person ever stops to ask me

what I'm doing, everyone obsessed with toilet paper. Then, passing on foot, a guy who speaks Spanish stops to zip his vest 

and says, "Morte," finger-slicing his throat. "Sí," I say, and he just shakes his head and walks away. I slam the trailer shut.

Our team built 450 in the end, and there were other teams in other districts across the whole Department of Ed.

No one I tell has ever heard of this. Why would they? Not exactly good PR— Guess what we used schools for. You'll never guess. …

But now that things are waning, more and more I feel alright, like I can let it out. It wasn't war—if it had been a war

we'd know what happened, what it was about, how much we'd lost, what people did out there. I'm sure someone will make a final count,

and we'll deal with each last expenditure, but that's years off, and this is not a war.

Brian Brodeur

More poems by Brian Brodeur are available through his website.

[choco-cherry-chunk]

BBC Ghosts comfort downfall because I’m still down and stressed and anxious and I wish to direct my attention to an AU that will allow me to include mpreg, a staple of this blog.

Making it modern and one in which all of the ghosts experienced near death events instead of actually dying. I think Button House would be something of a boarding house or collection of apartments/flats instead of being inherited, though maybe Allison is pulled in that way due to Fanny looking into the matter of an “heir”, in terms of planning ahead.

All of the characters would be living in Button House or in some version of the property. Hell, maybe part of the affordability of it comes with everyone sharing in the upkeep. It seems like something risky, but they all know Fanny would never actually make anyone leave, and is more understanding than she would admit about the likes of financial hardship and difficult periods.

With that in mind, characters: Allison and Mike would be largely the same. Maybe their decision to stay comes with the fact that Fanny doesn’t expect rent, but instead direct involvement in the maintenance and beautification of the property, knowing Allison is her only heir. They start to get on well with the other “tenants” after Allison nearly dies falling out a window and all of them do their best to help her heal.

Robin: I saw someone’s head canon about him having autism as a reason for speaking the way he does, in that he didn’t learn to speak for some time and most of his pronunciation and knowledge comes from reading words before he’s said them, and I jive with that. I think he serves as something of the groundskeeper and electrician for the property. He’s the only one aside from Allison and Mike who doesn’t pay for his flat, as Fanny hates the idea of having to seek out an electrician and would rather just keep Robin on since he knows the house so well. He tells so many stories about his life that people often don’t know what’s true and what isn’t. The lightning strike he survived did happen, though.

Humphrey: Living in Button House following his divorce (marriage was heinous, divorce slightly less so). He has the finances to live on his own, but after his marriage, he feels like being actions people. Despite how tall and imposing he is, he has an accidental habit of sneaking up and startling people. He and Robin actually bond over developing language skills, as he himself enjoys trying to learn a new language but totally sucks at it. Loves to paint, and a number of his pieces are hung about the house.

Mary: Mary lived in a tight knit rural community that ended up ousting and abandoning her when they felt she didn’t belong following her husband’s death. Her friend, Annie, ended up leaving with her, and they eventually ended up as more than friends. Part of the Button House land has been dedicated to their gardening and crops, and so the pair run a market stall for much of the year in which they sell the produce and wares they make. They don’t lease the land, but they do pay to use one of the house’s larger kitchens for their work. Pat often comes by to “help out”, though really just get a little taste of their preserves and brine.

Kitty: Flat is paid for by her father, though her relationship with him and her sister is contemptuous at best. She works in a dress store which caters to significant events - weddings, dances, etc. - but she dreams of becoming a designer herself, and often draws all sorts of ideas in her off time. People tend to assume that maybe she isn’t very good at her job, but her whimsy and eagerness actually earns her the most commission out of anyone in the store. She loves helping people fulfill dreams of beauty and is so fast to point out how stunning strangers are. She and the Captain have something of a father-daughter relationship, though they wouldn’t think to call it that. He has her over for dinner at least once a week. She and Thomas seem to have something of a will they-won’t that dynamic that everyone but the two of them recognize.

Thomas: Bohemian poet, as Julian says. Perpetual student, either due to constantly finishing and starting new degrees, or changing fields at random. Constantly writing and settling himself in common areas of the house, looking pensive so people ask what he’s working on. Loves female music artists - “they speak to me more intimately” - and will often blast music from his flat indicative of his mood. Many of his finances are covered by Humphrey, the man approving of Thomas’ artistic pursuits, and Thomas insists he will repay him once he is published (though that has still yet to happen).

Fanny: Was screwed out of Button House in her divorce, but when her ex-husband died, she inherited it because he never adjusted his will. She took it over and elected to turn it into a boarding space so she could handle the immensity of the estate on her own. Old school in her perceptions of what is and isn’t appropriate, but is learning, especially with Allison’s help. Tends to align with The Captain much of the time. Hates her neighbors in other properties, but thinks she hides it well (she doesn’t).

The Captain: Retired from the military, married to Havers (because I want them happy, damn it). He’s very hush-hush about his departure from the service, and I love one user’s post about him suffering a knee injury after he fell during a mild heart attack. Works in a mid-size history of war museum and loves doing research on anything connected to the topic (I see a man I relate to, I get him pregnant and give him an autism diagnosis). Still challenges himself in the manner of the military, such as running when he feels up for it and keeps his and Havers’ flat startlingly clean.

Pat: Divorced but insists he’s fine about it. His son is there every other weekend and all through holidays. He loves all things camping and he and the Captain tend to bond on that activity. He works as a local radio host and is actually something of a minor celebrity in their community as a result. His fashion sense is deeply locked into the eighties and he loves all things football. He occasionally “hosts” parties to watch matches in common spaces, but they have to be on nights Fanny is out so she doesn’t complain.

Julian: Disgraced former politician. Wife left with daughter and he doesn’t see them much, though he’s working up at least salvage his relationship with the latter. When he failed to even be elected for local government, he left politics and became a lawyer, mostly taking cases he knows will get him a lot of money and maybe one case a year for some pro bono sob story to ease his conscious. Tried to have a sauna installed in the house without Fanny’s knowledge.

Please lmk if y’all wanna hear or talk more about this because I’m in the zone!

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

WIP Wednesday

I got tagged by @materassassino and why the hell not, I have so many WIPs right now.

From the King-Ohger thing I started today:

“Good!” Jeramie finally lets go of his waist and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Then let’s go find Gira, normally around this time he’s in the library—he’s been doing his very best to learn about, you know, economics and civil infrastructure and so on, ‘king things’ as he calls them, but he really needs a dictionary to be convenient while he’s reading.” He heads down the hall, reaching over as he does to take Yanma’s hand like they’re gross teenagers on a date. “He’s very much enjoying having access to Himeno’s library, as a matter of fact, she also has an excellent drama collection. I’ve been timing him, we’re trying to see if he can make one of his villainous king extempores last a full ten minutes.”

Towed along slightly behind him, Yanma stares, distracted from the warm feeling now pervading his entire body by his own bafflement. “You two really made for each other, weren’t you.”

“Mm. I try not to give too much credence to the idea of fate, but it is very convenient that we mesh so well, isn’t it?”

“So what’s with this, then? What do you want me for?”

“Well, we’ve both got a minimum of two functioning eyes, don’t we?” Jeramie glanced back at him with a sunny smile. “Matters of theoretical fate or narrative determinacy aside, one of the ways in which we mesh well is that we’ve both got excellent taste.”

“You–I–do you always talk like this?”

“Like what?”

From an extremely silly SVSSS thing that's mostly back-burnered at the moment but which I think about a lot:

Shen Qingqiu awoke one morning with his face rather awkwardly smushed into his husband's armpit and discovered, to his intense displeasure, that he was being narrated.

Initially, of course, he was simply displeased to be awake, and assumed that the voice he heard was someone speaking in the near distance. It was only when he was standing in front of the bronze mirror in the bathroom, cleaning his teeth, that he fully processed what was happening.

"What the fuck," he said to the mirror.

Once his teeth were actually clean, his hair was at least out of the way, and he'd put on clothing that didn't have any Binghe-induced rips, he sat down to figure out what the hell was going on. He certainly wasn't hearing the dry, computer-cheerful tones of the System, which hadn't actually spoken to him in some time. Nor did it sound like anyone he knew or knew of in the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way. (Not that he would have particularly appreciated being narrated by Sha Hualing or Tianlang-jun or someone, but it would have given him somewhere to start.) As far as he could tell the voice belonged to a woman, who was probably an adult and definitely slightly congested. She wasn't a very deep voice, or a very high one–sort of mid-range, whatever that was called. She was also speaking English, with what he thought was an American accent of some kind, which seemed like it was probably important. Shen Qingqiu's English had never been very strong, but it was good enough to understand what she was saying most of the time, at least, and if this kept up his fluency would probably improve. Score one for skills with extremely limited application in this world.

Did Proud Immortal Demon Way even have an English translation?

"Binghe," he said, when Binghe came into the room with breakfast, "you can't hear a woman speaking right now, can you?"

Binghe blinked at him. "No, shizun. Which woman was it? Should I talk to her?"

And last, from one of the ghost story interlude shorts:

“Huaisang, you’ve got to stop throwing things at the electricians.”

Too...many...WIPs...

Anyway! I will tag @giraffeter @plushie-sentai and @timetoddddavis!

[paigelts05]

Desmond Anadem (Cassie's dad) [FNAF, Renegade AU]

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/Desmond-Anadem-Cassie-s-dad-FNAF-Renegade-AU-984301131

Published: Sep 24, 2023

"V class technician? Optical implants? The only thing I've heard about implants is that A class technicians have them, and we call those guys execs. And that that one mystery Class V technician should have one, but whoever they are, from what I've heard, they don't want to be here, so that seems to be a different kettle of fish entirely... Hu? Me? I'm C class, and staying that way. I might be the head technician, but I'm nowhere near the top of the food chain as far as technicians are concerned. I'm just the poor shit that all unfinished tasks fall to."

Desmond Anadem, Cassie's dad, is a C class technician who worked at the megaplex before his termination. Faz Ent also intended to terminate his life, but failed as the exec charged with carrying out his termination was tackled to the ground by Sylvia Blake, who instructed Desmond (and everyone else) to move so that they wouldn't be in the firing line of the execs gun, as she tacked the businessman to the ground. The exec fired his gun as he was tackled to the ground as predicted, and thanks to Sylvia's head's up, the bullet landed safely in a wall. The bullet did graze past Desmond's face, but the graze healed within two days.

The early leak of the notice of termination of night security staff triggered an event called 'The Riot'.

Desmond spent that night using his Faz Wrench to disable staffbots and endoskeletons for easier disassembly.

During his employment, neither Desmond nor any of his colleagues had an implant. They used eyepieces and earpieces with any chips pre-installed into the hardware. Masks for someone as low as a technician were almost entirely unheard of, asside from the mystery V class technician, whom his colleague in security, Vanessa Sylvia Blake, was searching for.

Depending on where a technician worked, some of them didn't even have eyepieces. Arcade technicians, electricians, construction workers, and those who only dealt with off-the-shelf non-proprietary machinery like the tills and computers didn't get or need eyepieces. These guys were called 'E class technicians', or just technicians. Desmond and other technicians couldn't give any less of a crap about 'class'. Most E class technicians, like Luis, didn't even know they were known as 'E class'.

But regardless of rank, all technicians have tool pouches on their belts. Colour didn't mean anything: you picked what colour you liked. In Desmond's case, he let his daughter pick his, and she picked out a shade of purple that matched her Roxy makeup.

[vvatchword]

Today has been very good so far.

First, i got my dentist appointment out of the way. Not only did I get my fillings out of the way with a wonderful new dentist and assistant, the Invisalign process is now over. My killer headaches are gone and I very rarely have their like anymore.

I proceeded to have the best conversation ever with the front desk staff. The lady who checked me out said, "Oh, is that a green-cheek conure in your photo?"

It took me a second to remember that the sign-up process for the dental office had asked for a picture, and the only selfie I had on hand included Indy. So Idgaf, here's my face and my bird I guess.

Anyway, we proceeded to have a great conversation. She had owned a green cheek for a while before realizing he needed more play time than she could give him. It was clear she had deeply loved him and taken good care of him and made a heart-wrenching--but ultimately good--call. I definitely commended her. She's one of the first people who straight-up said, "He was just a little person!!" And I was like YES YOU UNDERSTAND. Like owning a creature this smart goes full circle into guilt sometimes.

We also proceeded to wax eloquent on the adorable natures of hamsters ("Their little hands!!!" she said. "Their fat cheeks!!!" I said).

Meanwhile her partner at the desk clearly wanted in on the conversation but it all had to end. I wished them both well :)

I walked outside to my car. A passel of electricians were there, fixing something in a box clapped to the outside of the building. Their vehicle blocked the sidewalk, and the street was busy, so I squeezed between vehicle and building, apologizing so they knew I was near.

"Oh, that's okay!" said one of the guys, who was sitting on top of the truck. "We're the ones in your way."

"No worries!" I said.

He was so pleasant and clearly wished me well. His coworkers--three other dudes--also apologized as I passed through. Then they started razzing each other in a good-natured way. Really made me smile!

I headed to the smoke shop to pick up my Delta 9 gummies. Had to apologize to the clerk, who was wearing a mask, because I had forgotten my own (I didn't wear it to the dentist's for obvious reasons). He then asked me, "Do you mind if I ask you an odd question?"

"Not at all!"

"Would you like two tacos? They fixed them with flour tortillas and i can't eat them because I have Celiac's disease."

So then I got two tacos and they were very good :)))

The bus ride was blissfully quiet. No shouting people whatsoever.

Only half the day is over. My hope is that the happiness continues :))))

[sirwow]

Torn Tapes; Pt 1

The wind blows softly as the start of springtime rolls in and the spruce forest buzzes with life. Grass and sticks crackle under the footsteps of 3 boys traipsing along a trail. Lazarus, Azazel and Cain chat while chewing on their own candies and Cain dragging a box.

Az: “Augh.. never liked how taffy gets stuck on my braces.”

Cain: “Then why do ya keep buying it every time we go to plums?”

Az: “Well it tastes good! Besides you eat jawbreakers and complain about your throat hurting.”

Laz: “Az that’s not how jawbreakers work..”

Az: “Throat, mouth, jaw. Same thing. Anyways, how long is that old generator supposed to work for Cain?”

Cain: “Donno.”

Az: “What do you mean you don’t know? You’re a techie!”

Cain: “I’m a mechanic not a electrician, Az.”

Az: “Like I said, same thing.”

Laz: “Well regardless we should be able to power that old tv in the treehouse with it and play some games. Besides if it’s only an hour or something I’ll just bring mine.”

Az: “Alright alright..”

The three continue through the woods with the old generator and up to a old treehouse. Trash bags of rubbish and tools surround a near cleaned treehouse. The treehouse sits with a combination of fresh planks and old untouched by rain. Cain walks behind Az and Laz with the generator but the wheels of the generator catch on something hollow in the ground and trips up Cain onto the floor.

Laz: “Woah you okay?”

Cain: “Ugh yeah.. fuckin generator got stuck on something. Sounded kinda weird too.”

Az: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cain: “Sounded hollow is what I mean, now shh..”

Cain goes to the dirty and dusty bump in-front of the generator and taps it with his knuckles. A wooden clicking returns and Cain stands back up with Az n Laz by his sides.

Cain: “Sounds like a box there.”

Az: “Ooh, you think it’s treasure?”

Cain: “Why don’t you find a shovel over there n figure out.”

Az: “Alright but I call dibs on whatever’s in it!”

Cain: “Hey Lazarus mind helping me get this ol thing up there while Az digs himself a hole?”

Laz: “Oh yeah, of course!”

Laz and Cain lift up the generator cord to the tree house and plug in a old box tv together. The tv beams on and sits idle with nothing inside. Along side the Tv inside the treehouse is a new small beanbag, a bookshelf filled to the brim, a rug and scattered papers of future plans and Az’s doodles.

Az: “Hereees the box!” Azazel plops down the box in the center of the rug

Cain: “That was fast.”

Az: “Well it was a lot looser then it looked. Now com’on let’s open it!”

Laz pops open the dusty box and inside sits a large book and several tapes, unnamed. The three start taking things out.

Az: “tapes and a book? What a lame treasure.”

Cain: “Oh boo hoo.“

Az: “I’ll boo hoo your face.”

Laz takes out and opens the book as Cain and Az bicker. It’s a picture book dated 6 years back. The first page immediately catches him off guard.

Laz: “Hey guys? This book has photos of our siblings.”

Az: “Wait really?”

Cain: “Huh?”

Laz lays out the book on the rug with the first picture being a fuzzy image of a younger Judas and Eve. The photo is titled with marker as “photo test” in neat hand writing.

Cain: “Well I’ll be damned. I remember eve hangin out with Judas but she never talked bout it much.”

Az: “Judas never told me anything about his friends.. something about wanting to keep it to himself.”

Laz: “I wonder who took it. Looks like most the first few are of Judas and Eve.”

Az: “Well that one’s of Magdalene.”

Cain: “It’s Maggie. But yeah that’s definitely her. Whats the other pages got.”

Laz flips the page to pictures of an in progress treehouse with a folded up blueprint in the pages.

Laz: “Guess her and whoever her friends were the ones to build this place.”

Az: “No wonder it was so shotty when we found it. A bunch of kids made it!”

Cain: “Uh-huh, we’re also kids Az.”

Az: “Teens! There’s a difference.”

Cain: “Hey. Is that Mary?”

Laz: “What?”

Cain: “Ya sister! Look!”

Cain points to the edge of a photo where a younger Bethany can be seen flying and lifting a plank up to the tree for Eve. Laz takes the book to look closer.

Laz: “..What..? But she..I..”

Laz flips quickly to the next page with Cain and Az looking over his shoulder to peek. The next few pages have multiple pictures of Beth but Laz keeps flipping until coming to a torn page with half a photo still on it. The photo obviously had Judas but Bethany’s pigtails could be seen past the tear.

Az: “Uhm.. you okay Lazarus?”

Laz: “Did you know Judas and Bethany were friends..?”

Az: “I-I thought you did..”

Laz: “No she- I was always sick in my room and she never really told me about her friends other then Maggie.. but she wouldn’t lie to me..”

Az: “mmh..”

Cain: “Well- uh- maybe if we watch these tapes we could figure some more out!”

Laz: “..Yeah. Yeah let’s do that. Besides the rest of the pages in this book look torn up, no point in trying to read torn truths, haha..”

Az: “Yeah let’s see what these old things are. What’s the first one?”

Cain: “Just called “Test”. Guess we better test it out.”

Laz: “I swear to the lord- just put the tape in you dum-dum.”

Cain and Az giggle n Cain after slides the 1st tape in to watch.

End of Pt 1

Next part will be linked once it is up