#in my country. in my homeown.

[sergaybobrovsky]

caught a few boys looking good

[exerlin]

Kamala should be running as a republican with all her positions. Fuck you and your entire party for pushing this country further right year after year! The red and blue teams are allies, and we are both their enemies and their slaves. Voting isn't going to help us at this point

[truth4ourfreedom]

IMMIGRANT PORCH PIRATES DOING THEIR THING. NOW THEY ARE FIGHTING EACH OTHER!

Two thugs race and fight each other to steal a FedEx package just seconds after the package was dropped off on someone's doorstep.

Absolute insanity.

The clip was shared by the homeowner on FB & shows the men jumping out of their cars as they raced to the package.

"Not really worried about the phones… but what if this guy would have hurt one of my family members…. Is this really what the world has come to?" the homeowner posted.

"Also how did they find out these phones were being delivered? Something fishy is going on here."

America is in trouble.. and so many are still sound asleep.

------------------------------------------

This is what happens when you let millions of unvetted people into the country. Yes, most just want a better life for themselves and their families, but included in the unvetted are thugs and gang bangers like this! PLEASE REBLOG!

[penny-anna]

day to day existence in England vs Scotland is so similar that it's easy to forget sometimes that they are different countries until you run into something like property law djkghfklj.

when i first started looking to buy i was talking to my sisters (both homeowners in England) and they were talking about ground rent which i'd never heard of so i look it up and it's just not a thing up here.

and then i mentioned that i'd been assuming a solicitor could advise me about how much to offer for a property and they're like 'why in the world would a solicitor do that' and that's how we found out that Scottish solicitors are just massively more involved in the whole process of buying property

have to say so far the Scottish system keeps coming out on top. like wym in England you buy a property and you still have to pay rent?? insane.

[seat-safety-switch]

For many years, I've been depressed by snowfall. You might think that this is something that is inconvenient for a Canadian to have, and you'd be right. Every time it snows, all I can think about is how much of a pain in the ass it's going to be to get out and do anything. Being forced to shovel my driveway and sidewalk is just adding insult to injury.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not really being "forced" to shovel my driveway and sidewalk. While the homeowner is legally bound to do so, the actual person who owns the house and rents it to me has mysteriously disappeared a few years ago. I still didn't have anything to do with it, if you're still reading this every day, Detective Hardcastle. Pure luck on my part.

In the meantime, my shark of an attorney recommends that I "fake it until I make it," where "it" is "full ownership of the house through a loophole in the squatting laws." I could get away with not shovelling, sure, and let my absentee landlord take the brunt of the city's ire. They might even get so mad at him that they figure out what country his body is in, which could even expedite my claim to his old Chevy Lumina that he left on the street. I won't, though, because I understand that I have a civic duty to protect my neighbours.

In other words, I knew I had to shovel, but I also knew that I was too sad about all the snow to do anything about it. The only thing to do was to cheer myself up, and the only way I knew how to do that was by building some absolutely terrible machine.

Friends, it turns out that the Honda Motor Company throws away a lot of their great old shit on eBay, and you can stick-weld a borrowed city snowplow to the hands of one of those Asimo robots pretty easily. Their soulless husks of machinery can't get depressed. Takes care of an entire driveway in just a few minutes, and both you and they know that they can't just run off if they don't like the work, because nobody else in this country has their proprietary battery charger.

The best part is, when they swear at me and threaten my life in the inevitable robot uprising, I can't understand them.

[lailoken]

Hi! If you don’t have the capacity to answer questions like this thats totally okay but I was wondering if you have any thoughts/resources on house cleansing rituals? My family and I are soon moving into the home my parents will likely live in for the rest of their lives, and I’m feeling drawn to consecrate the space with some cleansing and protection magic but unsure of where to start. We are of Irish and Danish descent living on Coast Salish land, I’m sure there’s some rich folk magic I could draw from but I have no teachers or guides to show me the way! I deeply admire your work and appreciate any advice you might offer :) Thank you!

Hello there, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond! I've got a whole bunch of messages I've been meaning to respond to.

I definitely get that urge to "magically nest" into a new home.

I'll start by addressing the cleansing aspect of your question. When it comes to a new home (or really, any new space or item that you're going to be exposing yourself to energetically over time) there is often an urge to cleanse in some way, which is understandable. However, I encourage you to check in with yourself and your intuition of the space, asking if it feels truly pertinent to cleanse it. I bring this up because, some things—and homes especially, in my opinion—can actually benefit from and be strengthened by the accrual of energy in them. For instance, sometimes you move into a place, and it just feels gross and wrong on a visceral level, as if it was covered in "energetic grime." In a situation like that, cleansing makes total sense, as the goal is to remove that influence so that you can begin to imbue it with energy of your own. However, other times, you move into a place and immediately feel the warmth, love, and care that has been steeped into it, in which case, why would you want to remove such a rich and supportive energetic foundation from which to build upon?

As an example, when my in-law's first moved into the house we later inherited, it was shortly after the house's first tenant had died within it. She was a very kind and funny old woman who really liked my in-laws and helped make it possible for them to buy it following her death. For the first ten years or so of living in the house, they still strongly felt a sense of her caring nature present in the home, which makes sense given how long she lived there. What's more, though, any time my in-laws would argue or struggle with tension, they would begin to smell cigarette smoke and hear distant country music they couldn't find the source of (two things the original homeowner loved and indulged in daily), which would always lead to them laughing and patching things up. The energetic residue left by this woman could theoretically have been cleansed upon moving into the house, but I believe that would have been a sad loss for the house and the family.

With that little rant out of the way, let's say that you do have reason to want to cleanse the home and address that approach. There are many different ways one could use to energetically cleanse a building, but the main ones that seem worth mentioning here include Fumigations, Washes, and Recitations.

Purifying Fumigations involve invoking the excisive virtues present in a given material or mix of materials (such as Rue, Sage, or Vervain) and then burning said materials to release the ritually activated and aligned virtues of excision to aid you in cleansing the space. Practically speaking, this looks like wafting smoke through the home.

A Cleansing Wash involves steeping the excisive virtues of pertinent materials (such as Salt and Chile Pelper) into a solvent base (such as Water, Vinegar, or Oil), invoking and aligning said virtues ritually, and then using the homemade solution to physically cleanse the space (using the different solvents depending on your need—i.e. use oil for polishing wood, use vinegar for cleaning glass, etc.)

Recitations of Banishment involve walking through the house reciting or reading words of power aloud that call for the expulsion of unwanted energies or entities. This method will generally benefit from a close connection to the source material and/or a close working relationship with one's spirit allies.

In many cases, a mixture of two or more of these approaches will be used in conjuctjon to purify a home.

As for domestic protection magic, that's another subject with innumerable approaches. Additionally, most useful domestic protection magic I've encountered seems to focus on particular facets of protection (which is why my home is layered with multiple wards). As such, I struggle a little bit to think of a concise and clear way to discuss this aspect of your question. However, here are some links to previous posts in which I've discussed things like:

Protecting the home from Intruders

Protecting the home from Storms

Protecting the home from Fire

Protecting the home from Malefic Forces

A Generalized Property Ward

Additionally, I believe that developing a close working relationship with the spirirt of one's home—called a Genius Domi in my tradition—is probably one of the best ways to establish magical guardianship of the house.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Girls Night

“You owe me 200!”

“Fine! Just take all my money!”

You laughed, throwing the paper money at her and taking a sip of your wine. It was safe to say that you sucked at playing Monopoly. Ellie had ownership of all the railroads and utilities, Abby had at least 2 hotels on each of her properties, and Alex spent most of her time in jail.

It still wasn’t a match for you, who had 25 dollars to your name, 2 properties that only generated around 30.00 total in rent, and would miss the free parking space every chance you got. When your time came and you rolled the cursed dice, the Monopoly Gods decided to end your pathetic gaming reign by putting you in jail.

“Alright, well I’m out,” you stated defeatedly, taking a long sip of wine as your confirmation.

“Aw, it’s alright Y/N. Maybe you’ll do better the next game!” Abby tried but you shook your head with a quickness.

“Absolutely not. Not only is this game rigged to make me realize how terrible of a homeowner I am, but it lasts forever! Alex knows, she’s been in jail for the last three turns.”

“Hey, I don’t mind it. I just collect all my rent money while I’m in here,” Alex retorted.

You laughed as you heard the front door open and saw Jethro walk in with a grocery bag and a bottle of whiskey. You got up from your spot immediately, happy to see him home finally and walked over as he set the stuff down on the kitchen counter. He had let the team go home earlier in the night but told you he needed to stay behind to do some paperwork on their latest case. Abby was the first one to suggest the girls game night and it didn’t take much convincing of Ellie or Alex when the promise of wine, snacks, and a warm fire were included.

“Hey hun. You just missed my embarrassing defeat in Monopoly. Remind me to never play this game with your team again, they’re entirely too good. And I think Abby’s been hiding all the good chance cards up her sleeve.”

He chuckled as you gave him a welcome home kiss and started noisily poking around in the goods he had brought home.

“Ooh. Chips, dip and whiskey? You trying to butter me up sir?”

He smiled and pried the bottle from your hands. “Whiskeys mine. And it sounds to me like you’re already buttered up,” he teased softly, not wanting his special agents to hear your two’s playful PDA. With another small kiss, he walked out to the group of girls and surveyed the real estate war.

“Doing well Abbs. Bishop, I like your strategy. And Quinn, stop hiding in jail.”

“I’m not hiding! I’m just taking my time,” she defended as everyone laughed.

“I’ll be downstairs if you girls need me. Good night.”

They called out their farewells as he made his way into his little woodworking dungeon and you took your spot back, bringing the new snacks with you.

“Alright Banker Abby. I need a loan,” you pleaded.

————

The clock read 11 pm once the girls left and you cleaned up your game space. In the end, it was Ellie who won, most likely due to her incredible NSA analysis skills and you had ended up with at least more than the small loan Banker Abby gave you. Once you put all the furniture back and glassware in the dishwasher, you made your way downstairs to see Jethro.

There was light country music and a muted tv playing as you watched him slowly move the sandpaper over his newest project. He had finished the boat a while back and offered to build you some beautiful planter boxes for the garden you wanted to start once spring came around.

It was always a treat for you when you watched him work. His movements were smooth and calculated, knowing just how much pressure to apply or what angle to use and seeing him wearing his tool belt and covered in sawdust just did it for you.

“You gonna stand there all night?” he called out with a smirk.

Walking over, you hopped up on one of the counters and took a small sip of his mason jar whiskey, slightly cringing at the taste.

“You know who would be really great for Ellie? Nick. I think their different personalities would really even each other out.”

“Rule number 12, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. Since when do any of his subordinates follow it, including himself. You knew all about his past with the director and Sloan, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rule number 83. Don’t be a hypocrite,” you quipped, making up your own rule.

He gave you the look that you see from him to his team all the time but it didn’t work on you so you just smiled cheekily back at him. He stopped sanding and came over, taking the glass from your hands and finishing the awful brown liquor, your arms snaking around his neck. He smelt like a lumbermill mixed with a distillery and you loved it. You loved it even more when you pulled him in for a kiss and tasted the leftover vapors of his whiskey on his tongue. The effect of drinking your 3 glasses of wine had you feeling warm and fuzzy and made Jethro’s touch electric.

When you two pulled away, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “Let’s go to bed.”

Not needing any convincing, you nodded and he helped you down, taking off his toolbelt and carelessly dropping it on one of the tables before following you back upstairs.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Intuit: “Our fraud fights racism”

Tonight (September 27), I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine. On October 2, I'll be in Boise to host an event with VE Schwab.

Today's key concept is "predatory inclusion": "a process wherein lenders and financial actors offer needed services to Black households but on exploitative terms that limit or eliminate their long-term benefits":

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2329496516686620

Perhaps you recall predatory inclusion from the Great Financial Crisis, when predatory subprime mortgages with deceptive teaser rates were foisted on Black homeowners (who were eligible for better mortgages), resulting in a wave of Black home theft in the foreclosure crisis:

https://prospect.org/justice/staggering-loss-black-wealth-due-subprime-scandal-continues-unabated/

Before these loans blew up, they were styled as a means of creating Black intergenerational wealth through housing speculation. They turned out to be a way to suck up Black families' savings before rendering them homeless and forcing them into houses owned by the Wall Street slumlords who bought all the housing stock the Great Financial Crisis put on the market:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/08/wall-street-landlords/#the-new-slumlords

That was just an update on an old con: the "home sale contract," invented by loan-sharks who capitalized on redlining to rip off Black families. Back when banks and the US government colluded to deny mortgages to Black households, sleazy lenders created the "contract loan," which worked like a mortgage, but if you were late on a single payment, the lender could seize and sell your home and not pay you a dime – even if the house was 99% paid for:

https://socialequity.duke.edu/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/Plunder-of-Black-Wealth-in-Chicago.pdf

Usurers and con-artists love to style themselves as anti-racists, seeking to "close the racial wealth gap." The payday lending industry – whose triple-digit interest rates trap poor people in revolving debt that they can never pay off – styles itself as a force for racial justice:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/29/planned-obsolescence/#academic-fraud

Payday lenders prey on poor people, and in America, "poor" is often a euphemism for "Black." Payday lenders disproportionately harm Black families:

https://ung.edu/student-money-management-center/money-minute/racial-wealth-gap-payday-loans.php

Payday lenders are just unlicensed banks, who deploy a layer of bullshit to claim that they don't have to play by the rules that bind the rest of the finance sector. This scam is so juicy that it spawned the fintech industry, in which a bunch of unregulated banks sprung up to claim that they were too "innovative" to be regulated:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

When you hear "Fintech," think "unlicensed bank." Fintech turned predatory inclusion into a booming business, recruiting Black spokespeople to claim that being the sucker at the table in the cryptocurrency casino was actually a form of racial justice:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/07/business/media/cryptocurrency-seeks-the-spotlight-with-spike-lees-help.html

But not all predatory inclusion is financial. Take Facebook Basics, Meta's "poor internet for poor people" program. Facebook partnered with telcos in the Global South to rig their internet access. These "zero rating" programs charged subscribers by the byte to reach any service except Facebook and its partners. Facebook claimed that this would "bridge the digital divide," by corralling "the next billion internet users" into using its services.

The fact that this would make "Facebook" synonymous with "the internet" was just an accidental, regrettable side-effect. Naturally, this was bullshit from top to bottom, and the countries where zero-rating was permitted ended up having more expensive wireless broadband than the countries that banned it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/02/countries-zero-rating-have-more-expensive-wireless-broadband-countries-without-it

The predatory inclusion gambit is insultingly transparent, but that doesn't stop desperate scammers from trying it. The latest chancer is Intuit, who claim that the end of its decade-long, wildly profitable "free tax prep" scam is bad for Black people:

https://www.propublica.org/article/turbotax-intuit-black-taxpayers-irs-free-file-marketing

Some background. In nearly every rich country on Earth, the tax authorities send every taxpayer a pre-filled tax return, based on the information submitted by employers, banks, financial planners, etc. If that looks good to you, you just sign it and send it back. Otherwise, you can amend it, or just toss it in the trash and pay a tax-prep specialist to produce your own return.

But in America, taxpayers spend billions every year to send forms to the IRS that tell it things it already knows. To make this ripoff seem fair, the hyper-concentrated tax-prep industry, led by the Intuit, creators of Turbotax, pretended to create a program to provide free tax-prep to working people.

This program was called Free File, and it was a scam. The tax-prep cartel each took a different segment of Americans who were eligible for Freefile and then created an online house of mirrors that would trick those people into spending hours working on their tax-returns until they were hit with an error message falsely claiming they were ineligible for the free service and demanding hundreds of dollars to file their returns.

Intuit were world champions at this scam. They blocked their Freefile offering from search-engine crawlers and then bought ads that showed up when searchers typed "freefile" into the query box that led them to deceptively named programs that had "free" in their names but cost a fortune to use – more than you'd pay for a local CPA to file on your behalf.

The Attorneys General of nearly every US state and territory eventually sued Intuit over this, settling for $141m:

https://www.agturbotaxsettlement.com/Home/portalid/0

The FTC is still suing them over it:

https://www.ftc.gov/legal-library/browse/cases-proceedings/192-3119-intuit-inc-matter-turbotax

We have to rely on state AGs and the FTC to bring Intuit to justice because every Intuit user clicks through an agreement in which we permanently surrender our right to sue the company, no matter how many laws it breaks. For corporate criminals, binding arbitration waivers are the gift that keeps on giving:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/24/uber-for-arbitration/#nibbled-to-death-by-ducks

Even as the scam was running out, Intuit spent millions lobby-blitzing Congress, desperate for action that would let it continue to privately tax the nation for filling in forms that – once again – told the IRS things it already knew. They really love the idea of paying taxes on paying your taxes:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/20/turbotaxed/#counter-intuit

But they failed. The IRS has taken Freefile in-house, will send you a pre-completed tax return if you want it. This should be the end of the line for Intuit and other tax-prep profiteers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/17/free-as-in-freefile/#tell-me-something-i-dont-know

Now we're at the end of the line for the scam, Intuit is playing the predatory inclusion card. They're conning Black newspapers like the Chicago Defender into running headlines like "IRS Free Tax Service Could Further Harm Blacks,"

https://defendernetwork.com/news/opinion/irs-free-tax-service-could-further-harm-blacks/

The only named source in that article? Intuit spokesperson Derrick Plummer. The article went out on the country's Black newswire Trice Edney, whose editor-in-chief did not respond to Propublica's Paul Kiel's questions.

Then Black Enterprise got in on the game, publishing "Critics Claim The IRS Free Tax Prep Service Could Hurt Black Americans." Once again, the only named source for the article was Plummer, who was "quoted at length." Black Enterprise declined to tell Kiel where that article came from:

https://www.blackenterprise.com/critics-claim-the-irs-free-tax-prep-service-could-hurt-black-americans/

For Intuit, placing op-eds is a tried-and-true tactic for laundering its ripoffs into respectability. Leaked internal Intuit memos detail the company's strategy of "pushing back through op-eds" to neutralize critics:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/6483061-Intuit-TurboTax-2014-15-Encroachment-Strategy.html

Intuit spox Derrick Plummer did respond to Kiel's queries, denying that Intuit was paying for these op-eds, saying "with an idea as bad as the Direct File scheme we don’t have to pay anyone to talk about how terrible it is."

Meanwhile, ex-NAACP director (and No Labels co-chair) Benjamin Chavis has used his position atop the National Newspaper Publishers Association to publish op-eds against the IRS Direct File program, citing the Progressive Policy Institute, a pro-business thinktank that Intuit's internal documents describe as part of its "coalition":

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/6483061-Intuit-TurboTax-2014-15-Encroachment-Strategy.html

Chavis's Chicago Tribune editorial claimed that Direct File could cause Black filers to miss out on tax-credits they are entitled to. This is a particularly ironic claim given Intuit's prominent role in sabotaging the Child Tax Credit, a program that lifted more Americans out of poverty than any other in history:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/29/three-times-is-enemy-action/#ctc

It's also an argument that can be found in Intuit's own anti-Direct File blog posts:

https://www.intuit.com/blog/innovative-thinking/taxpayer-empowerment/intuit-reinforces-its-commitment-to-fighting-for-taxpayers-rights/

The claim is that because the IRS disproportionately audits Black filers (this is true), they will screw them over in other ways. But Evelyn Smith, co-author of the study that documented the bias in auditing says this is bullshit:

https://siepr.stanford.edu/publications/working-paper/measuring-and-mitigating-racial-disparities-tax-audits

That's because these audits of Black households are triggered by the IRS's focus on Earned Income Tax Credits, a needlessly complicated program available to low-income (and hence disproportionately Black) workers. The paperwork burden that the IRS heaps on EITC recipients means that their returns contain errors that trigger audits.

As Smith told Propublica, "With free, assisted filing, we might expect EITC claimants to make fewer mistakes and face less intense audit scrutiny, which could help reduce disparities in audit rates between Black and non-Black taxpayers."

Meanwhile, the predatory inclusion talking points continue to proliferate. Nevada accountants and the state's former controller somehow coincidentally managed to publish op-eds with nearly identical wording. Phillip Austin, vice-chair of Arizon's East Valley Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, claims that free IRS tax prep "would disproportionately hurt the Hispanic community." Austin declined to tell Propublica how he came to that conclusion.

Right-wing think-tanks are pumping out a torrent of anti-Direct File disinfo. This surely has nothing to do with the fact that, for example, Center Forward has HR Block's chief lobbyist on its board:

https://thehill.com/opinion/finance/4125481-direct-e-file-wont-make-filing-taxes-any-easier-but-it-could-make-things-worse/

The whole thing reeks of bullshit and desperation. That doesn't mean that it won't succeed in killing Direct File. If there's one thing America loves, it's letting businesses charge us a tax just for dealing with our own government, from paying our taxes to camping in our national parks:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/30/military-industrial-park-service/#booz-allen

Interestingly, there's a MAGA version of predatory inclusion, in which corporations convince low-information right-wingers that efforts to protect them from ripoffs are "woke." These campaigns are, incredibly, even stupider than the predatory inclusion tale.

For example, there's a well-coordianted campaign to block the junk fees that the credit card cartel extracts from merchants, who then pass those charges onto us. This campaign claims that killing junk fees is woke:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

How does that work? Here's the logic: Target sells Pride merch. That makes them woke. Target processes a lot of credit-card transactions, so anything that reduces card-processing fees will help Target. Therefore, paying junk fees is a way to own the libs.

No, seriously.

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/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

[opheliabuilds]

TS4 Neutral Family Home

Watch The Stop Motion YouTube Video Here

♡ ɢᴀʟʟᴇʀʏ ɪᴅ: OpheliaBuilds

♡ ʙᴜɪʟ�� ɪꜱ ꜱᴀᴠᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ: Neutral Family Home

♡ ʟᴏᴛ ꜱɪᴢᴇ: 20x15

♡ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ: 81,487

♡ 3ʙᴇᴅ, 1ʙᴀᴛʜ

♡ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴄ

MOD USED (THIS ISN'T REQUIRED BUT IT WAS IN THE BUILD)

Flicbuster by Lot 51

DOWNLOAD THESE BEFORE YOU DOWNLOAD THE BUILD ↓↓↓

ALL CC USED

Welcome Home by @thecluttercat

Cosy Backyard Pack by @maxsus

STEFAN by @pierisim

Happy Stairways by @syboubou

Country Kitchen by @syboubou

The Giardino Pack by @heybrine

Liselotte Mini Bath by @simkoos

Luna Bedroom by @myshunosun

Influencer; A Collection Of 6 Deco Items by @simkoos

Ikea Collection; 50+ deco & functional items by @simkoos

Neighborly CC Sims 4 Part 1 & Part 2 by @syboubou

Sea-Adventure TS4 CC-Pack by @lemonbunny-ts4cc

Daria Bedroom by @myshunosun

2024/08 Combination Wardrobe Kit(Download) by @gua-cc

Myra Living by @peacemaker-ic

Bowed Living - Contemporary Rattan Set with 32 Items by @peacemaker-ic

Switch; Nine 2t4 Outlets And Light Switches by @simkoos

Besties Part 2: Me And My Cat by @imfromsixamsixamcc

Beach day by @plushpixelssims

Living Room for a Cozy Family (CC Pack for The Sims 4) by @imfromsixam x @oshinsimblr

Pinterest Finds; 12 Deco & Functional Items Inspired By My Home Deco Pinterest Board! by @simkoos

4# Simple Live Collection - Update 03/05/24 by @joyceisfox

Ulaa Petbed by @nostylesimsstudio

Simmify Music Nook by @myshunosun

Vanity Nook by @myshunosun

Freja Nursery by @myshunosun

Summer In The Hamptons Part 2 by @plushpixelssims

Chic - Bedroom by @bostyny

Build Buy Redux (Revamped): Part One by @simkoos

Life Bathroom Clutter CC Sims 4 Part 1 & Part 2 by @syboubou

East Oak Living CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Generation Gap Clutter CC Sims 4 Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 by @syboubou

Minimalist Table Clock by @gua-cc

Enchanted Dreams Kid Bedroom CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Shape Collection Dining Room by @plushpixelssims

Stefan Bedroom by @pierisim

Modern Classic Living Room (CC Pack for The Sims 4) by @imfromsixamsixam

Love Sims 4 CC Set by @syboubou

Parisian Apartment @plushpixelssims

Boho Mojo Bedroom CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Life Livingroom Set - Part 2 by @syboubou

Closet Collection by @maxsus

Binge Inking Stacked Books by @ravasheencc

Parakeet Pop Cissouryne Pastel CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Ellipse Seating - Curved Seating in 32 Colours by @peacemaker-ic

Combles by @pierisim

Clean Day; 8 Deco Cleaning Products by @simkoos

Cottage Bedroom CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Kopenhagen living room by @plushpixelssims

Clutter Dump; 40 deco And Functional Clutter Items by @simkoos

Shape Collection Dining Room by @plushpixelssims

Naturali Living Room - Download by @valiasims

Stay Hydrated; 4 Deco Bottles & Tumblers by @simkoos

Noova Collection by @heybrine

Gamer Build by @simsinatra

Into Summer by @plushpixelssims

Wall Art - Movie Hangout by @brazenlotus

Candy Nursery CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Modern Elegance - Mini Set 3 by @bostyny

Antique Stone Tile by @momo-cc

Cheap & Chipped Used Grunge CC Sims 4 by @syboubou

Splendid Panelling - Three New Painted Wall Styles by @peacemaker-ic

Welcome, Welcome! Our latest listing is a breathtaking 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom home, based in Oasis Springs! The current homeowners are a wondering little family that are looking to sell this to a dedicated homeowner who'll give this place the love and care that it deserves! Raked with natural sunlight, and adorned with a small pool, this home has everything one could possibly need! Take this wonderful home off of the market today! <3333

[communistkenobi]

This is going to be an extremely messy post, but I’ve been grappling with the argument that “fascism” is nothing more than an exceptionalised label for the cyclical political crises of capitalism, as opposed to an actual historical force in and of itself - just as capitalism has cyclical economic crises which are necessary for its continued functioning, fascism represents the political crises of capital, a bulwark against class consciousness and socialist organising which threaten capitalist rule. Fascism does this by instead emphasising a racial or national consciousness, using white supremacy and the promise of property to divert people away from class consciousness. In Anatomy of Fascism, Paxton talks about how important the promise of property ownership to Italian peasantry was to establishing fascist rule there - class mobility up into the middle classes was used in concert with racial/national politics to stop people from identifying with the proletariat (“homeowners are too busy to be communists,” to paraphrase that American housing developer I forget the name of atm). This is especially weaponised against Jewish people, who are framed as having no national affiliation and are thus eternal outsiders to the bourgeois Christian homeland.

I have encountered a lot of definitions of fascism. The most productive and evocative definition I’ve found is Cesaire’s - colonialism come home. He was speaking of Europe when he said this, saying that Hitler was only doing what Europe did overseas. But what does this mean for settler colonial states? There is no “home” for colonialism to return to for countries like the United States or Canada, because this colonial process has to constantly and at all times maintain itself upon indigenous land in order for the state to continue to exist. The colonialism is always home, always domestic (while also obviously being exercised globally through imperial domination and violence, especially in the case of the United States). Are these states essentially fascist in conception? If this conclusion is true (which I’m leaning towards yes), is “fascism” a useful analytical category at all? If we speak of the political processes of capitalism when we speak of fascism, can we simply just call it all capitalism? It would be like if we called all periods of economic crisis “collapsism” and partitioned these periods of depression or economic instability into exceptional circumstances divorced from the history of capitalism (which we already have done with The Great Depression in the 1930s, or the 2008 Financial Crash - these are exceptional periods where something ��went wrong,” where the system “failed”). Sitting with this conclusion for a moment, calling these processes fascist is to divorce them of their material history, to decouple them from the violence and exploitation inherent to capitalism, and to ensure that any analysis of fascism does not conclude with a call to abolish capitalism - for if fascism is merely an interruption of normal capitalist democratic functioning, then preventing future fascisms does not require the abolition of the current economic and political system.

I’ve been engaging with this essay recently, which calls liberals the “left wing of fascism,” and argues that liberalism, far from providing an alternative to fascist rule, instead provides a stabilising quality to it, acting as a stop-gap to the more destabilising right-wing bourgeois elements of capitalism. And despite these conclusions I still find fascism a useful label, both because I think it has a lot of strategic value to engage with particular historical periods (such as right now) as fascist - fascism as a label has widespread recognition, if not widespread understanding - and also because it provides a neat shorthand for the historical process of capitalist political decay. 

Anyway I’m talking this all out publicly because I’m in the process of reviewing a lot of literature on the subject for my PhD, and I keep coming to this conclusion - that fascism is not “real” in the sense that it cannot be divorced from capitalism itself, and in fact is a necessary process to the continued functioning of capitalism - but I’m having a hard time seeing what analytical limitations this conclusion produces. I have so far been the most persuaded by post-colonial and Marxist accounts of fascism, but I wonder if multiple definitions of fascism are still strategically or analytically useful to use in concert with one another, even if I disagree with them

[blueiscoool]

Lost and Found: Bottle Hunter Digs Extraordinary Farmland Treasures

Tom Askjem is a time traveler. Every May to November, he disappears into the bowels of the earth, descends to depths of 13’-plus, and returns to the surface with treasure—bottles and glassware from farming’s past.

After 1,800 pits and hundreds of thousands of relics, Askjem is equal parts archeologist, thrill seeker, and mole. Muscle on dirt, the North Dakota farm boy has turned an addiction into a career, multiple books, and a captivating YouTube channel with millions of views. However, Askjem seeks more than glass.

“I’m digging for adventure, history, and love,” he says. The past is in these holes and there are countless numbers of them across farmland.”

Time to hunt with a master.

The Infection

On the flats of extreme eastern North Dakota’s Traill County, Askjem, 32, prepares for a dig trip. “No mountains and no hills in the Red River Valley,” he describes. “You can see your dog run away for days. The land is mostly featureless, other than a few big cottonwoods and shelter belts where farms used to be.”

A mop of blonde hair sits atop a 6’-tall, lanky frame as Askjem saddles his pony—a Honda Civic. At the current mileage rate, the Civic will be junkyard fodder before it has a scratch: 60,000 backroad miles added to the odometer in the past six months.

Askjem piles layers of gear into the trunk, including three of each tool for insurance: shovels, pronged garden forks, trampoline pads, probe rods, buckets, plastic scoopers, trowels, tents, sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, air mattresses, clothes, and waterproof, Redwing leather work boots.

“It never gets old,” he says, wearing a wide grin. “I caught the infection when I was a kid.”

Digging Bodies

Pushed from the Grand Forks area by the historic Red River flood of 1997, Askjem moved to a farm outside Buxton at six years young. The main property was an 1878 homestead—a progression from sod house to log cabin to the present standing 1898 farmhouse decked in Victorian-era woodwork and hardware.

Surrounded by history, including the skeletons of old wagons and rusting machinery, Askjem explored a 5-acre patch of woods on the property, and chanced on a garbage dump: pop bottles and trash.

Askjem dug.

“I went deep and found stuff going back to 1898. When you’re a kid living in the country, there’s no going down the street and there’s no hanging with friends to play video games—you make your own adventure. I started hitting up all the farmers I could find for leads.”

Behind the wheel of a rattling go-cart, Askjem sought Buxton old-timers and collected tips on abandoned houses. “They all helped me,” he says. “Nobody cared where I hunted because I was just a little kid exploring for all the right reasons.”

“I’ve still got an elementary school journal with an assignment describing my weekend,” he adds. “I wrote, ‘Me and Mom dug up old bodies.’ The teacher marked my paper out of concern,” Askjem describes, with an easy, deep chuckle. “I meant to spell bottles, not bodies. But it shows I was truly hooked.”

Indeed. Wonderfully hooked.

Soft Landing

Why are bottles buried under farmland and old house sites?

Prior to plastic and synthetics, glassware held everything: medicine, hygiene products, alcohol, soda, and beyond. Glass was it.

Additionally, prior to waste disposal services, homeowners discarded trash on-site—in back yard outhouses, trash depressions, burn pits, and wells or cisterns. In short time, the various ground receptacle spots were filled and forgotten.

“Let’s say, for example, a family moved in around 1880,” Askjem explains. “That site likely has two or three outhouse locations prior to World War l. The outhouse spots filled up at a rate according to family size. I dug one farmhouse site that had six outhouses in a 10-year span. Folks went into the outhouses and threw away bottles: medicine, opiates, beer, whiskey. It was convenient and private, and had a soft landing, and got covered quickly. Even now, the bottles often are still preserved.”

“Generally, these houses also had a burn pit and/or dump pit. In the early days, they burned all trash in the stove for heat. Also, homestead bucket wells were filled up with trash and bottles once they were replaced by pump wells. Cisterns also were eventually filled up, but most of those are associated with houses in town.”

And the sites remain, he emphasizes, hiding intact relics beyond the reach of farm machinery or tillage equipment.

X Marks the Spot

Location. Location. Location. Other than a tip or invitation, how does Askjem find dig sites?

X marks the spot, at least in the county courthouse or public library. He spends winters poring over early property transaction documents. “I look at lot sales. If several lots sold for $100 each in 1880, but one sold for $1,000 in 1885, the price climb tells the story and likely represents a building location.”

“I also read old newspaper archives, looking for hotel or business advertisements,” Askjem continues. “Then I can look up the proprietor’s name and keep tightening the scope, narrowing down the exact building location.”

“Every single house is different, but generally, in the countryside, outhouses were 30 paces out the back door. In the city, where most lots were 140’ long, outhouses could be as close as 5-10 paces.”

Confident of a site’s potential, Askjem first asks for permission to dig from the landowner. “Property owners are always so kind to me and I don’t hide anything I find. They’re curious about what is in the ground, just like anybody else.”

Second, he grids out the site. “I put down markers 2 paces apart, maybe 20 paces long. I push probe rods into ground and feel for compaction differences. Depending on the location, I’ll call in and have utility lines marked out for power and gas.”

Decked in Levi’s and a tank-top, it’s time to tunnel.

Claustrophobic Comfort

Shovel in hand, Askjem descends into a layer cake of dirt: black topsoil to brown-colored clay to telltale ash to a use layer containing treasure.

“Generally, I go deep to find old items in quantity. The earliest bottles were used to the last drop by farmers and thrown out empty. Therefore, when they froze in brutal Dakota winters, the glass didn’t break from liquid expansion.”

As Askjem extracts glass vessels from the dirt and grime, his encyclopedic knowledge registers with each find. He recognizes the type, manufacturer, and age. Ink bottles, hygiene bottles, medicine bottles, beer bottles, soda bottles—and far more spill from the holes.

“I find patented medicine bottles across the country, but my favorite are soda bottles because they are unique to their locale and have character. The old soda bottles are usually marked with the bottler and town name because they were returnable.”

The outhouse pits are typically 6’-deep at home sites, with an average size of 6’-by-4’-by-3’. “I’ve dug ghost towns, dug saloons, train depots, and pool halls that were 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 8’ deep. I remember a hotel pit that was 20’-by-20’ and 8’ deep. There was a military fort with pits behind the barracks that was 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 13.5’ deep: That was a week’s worth of digging.”

Askjem’s subterranean realm provides no comfort to the claustrophobic. At 8’-9’, he braces the holes with woodwork. “I’m in a solid clay base that doesn’t cave, but I have a healthy respect for the ground’s limitation. Sometimes, it looks like I’m digging a rabbit hole.”

Preserved in nature’s freezer, the artifacts unearthed by Askjem often are in phenomenal condition.

“Pieces of newspaper can still be read; bottle labels are legible; white lime used in decomposition is visible; and undigested seeds are everywhere. Even 120-year-old human waste sometimes is perfectly preserved and still smells like hell. I wear a hydrogen sulfide respirator in those cases.”

“It’s all there; almost like it was dropped yesterday.”

Ghosts in the Ground

In 2022, Askjem began chronicling his digs via a YouTube channel, Below the Plains, and soon captured millions of views. At two posts per week, he gins footage at a steady rate to feed the algorithm, a tough task considering the ground in his geography is frozen from mid-November to mid-May.

Additionally, Askjem has written two in-depth books (Nebraska Soda Bottles 1865-1930 and A History of North Dakota Bottling Operations 1879-1930) and has more on the way. “I put the bottle prices in the books because they can sell for a whole lot and I always tell the landowners. Listing prices draw criticism, but that’s important to me because it helps preserve the item, and preservation of history is what drives me.”

Covered in dust or mud at the end of each day in digging season, Askjem is highly respectful of what he finds—almost reverent after 1,800 digs. “I appreciate everything I uncover because it represents a part of someone’s daily life and existence. There’s nothing wrong with coveting bottles, but I’m really in those holes for the moment of discovery.”

Even when not digging, Askjem is on the move, surfing on the coasts or river diving for lost cargo. In the decades to come, will he continue burrowing into the past? “Twenty years from now, I hope I’m still digging and there’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now.”

“There’s not an infinite amount of lost bottle sites, but there’s certainly an incredibly high number,” he continues. “There were 300,000 homestead farms in North Dakota with a minimum of one well, one outhouse, and one trash dump. And that doesn’t include towns where most of the population lived. There are millions of these sites in North Dakota and far more in other states.”

Respect to a freewheeling hunter like no other. Bottles draw the eye, but ghosts draw the heart: “The moment never gets old when you uncover a bottle and find that history,” Askjem adds. “Never.”

By CHRIS BENNETT.

[pancakeke]

genuinely wondering, how did you become a homeowner at such a young age?

I married a guy with good credit and a degree ✌️

also it maybe helped a smidge that I lucked into a desk job with decent pay despite dropping out of college. I used to be a temp in the warehouse at this place but kept fucking with whatever I could access to make the work easier. then six years, four roles and one department change later I was a data analyst lol.

if I didn't have the health insurance from this job my financial situation would probably be uhhh real bad. and I bet that would have dragged my husband down with me :') god bless America, the greatest country In The World 🇺🇲🍆✊

[gatheringbones]

[“Our institutions have socialized us to scarcity, creating artificial resource shortages and then normalizing them. For example, because the residents of affluent neighborhoods have been so successful at blocking the construction of new housing in their communities, developers have turned their sights on down-market neighborhoods, where they also meet resistance, often from struggling renters fretting about gentrification.

As this dynamic has repeated itself in cities across America, the debate about addressing the affordable housing crisis and fostering inclusive communities has turned into a debate about gentrification, one pitting low-income families who have stable housing against low-income families who need it. But notice how contrived and weird this is, how our full range of action has been limited by rich homeowners essentially redlining their blocks. Or consider how a scarcity mindset frames so much of our politics, crippling our imaginations and stunting our moral ambitions. How many times have we all heard legislators and academics and pundits begin their remarks with the phrase “In a world of scarce resources…,” as if that state of affairs were self-evident, obvious, as unassailable as natural law, instead of something we’ve fashioned?

The United States lags far behind other advanced countries when it comes to funding public services. In 2019, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Italy, and several other Western democracies each raised tax revenues equal to at least 38 percent of their GDPs, while the United States’ total revenues languished at 25 percent. Instead of catching up to our peer nations, we have lavished government benefits on affluent families and refused to prosecute tax dodgers. And then we cry poor when someone proposes a way to spur economic mobility or end hunger? Significantly expanding our collective investment in fighting poverty will cost something. How much it will cost is not a trivial affair. But I would have more patience for concerns about the cost of ending family homelessness if we weren’t spending billions of dollars each year on homeowner tax subsidies, just as I could better stomach concerns over the purported financial burden of establishing a living wage if our largest corporations weren’t pocketing billions each year through tax avoidance. The scarcity mindset shrinks and contorts poverty abolitionism, forcing it to operate within fictitious fiscal constraints. It also pits economic justice against climate justice. When lawmakers have tried to curb pollution and traffic gridlock through congestion pricing, for instance, charging vehicles a fee if they enter busy urban neighborhoods during peak hours, critics have shot down the proposal by claiming it would hit low-income workers in transit deserts the hardest. In many cases, this is true. But it doesn’t have to be. We allow millions to live paycheck to paycheck, then leverage their predicament to justify inaction on other social and environmental issues. Politicians and pundits inform us, using their grown-up voice, that unfortunately we can’t tax gas-guzzling vehicles or transition to green energy or increase the cost of beef because it would harm poor and working-class families. My point isn’t that these tradeoffs aren’t pertinent but that they aren’t inescapable. They are by-products of fabricated scarcity.”]

matthew desmond, from poverty: by america, 2023

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

So... you're a bat

Summary: You move to a new town for work, you need a house... you didn't expect a housemate to come with it.

Pairing: Vampire!Natasha Romanoff & Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 2462

Warnings: Mentions/hints of past murders

A/N: Hello everyone I actually managed to write :) It's just a nice fluffy fic with vampire Nat being a cool housemate! Hope you enjoy!

(and also my fics haven't been doing so well since I keep disappearing and reappearing, so any reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!)

—————————————————

The house viewing was pointless; moving across the country for work - on a minimal budget, you were just looking for anywhere to live, no matter the condition. And this was your only option. A house that was being sold for cheaper than any apartment’s security deposit; it was practically free, and from the viewing, you could see why.

A dilapidated mansion on the verge of collapse, the stairs had fallen in years before, so there was no access to the upper floors. Windows were smashed, floorboards were rotten, and some ceiling tiles were non-existent. No wonder the real estate agent looked so surprised to hear you take it on the spot.

What could you do? You didn’t have the money for anywhere else. And this mansion had one redeeming quality in that its front room had been done up by a previous homeowner, redecorated and fully insulated to make it livable. When you wondered aloud why they had stopped at just that room, you were shut down, the agent insisting that was a question you didn’t want answered. 

Off-putting, to be sure, but you left it at that.

—

There wasn’t much for you to unpack; the single livable room was fully furnished and decorated within the day. Almost everything you needed, packed into one place. It wasn’t really that different to a college dorm, and you’d survived that before.

A chill hit you the second you opened the front room door, making you hesitate in the doorway. It would be so cosy to stay in the warmth, but instead, you braved the cold, final box in your arms.

Creaks echoed around the frame of the house with every step you took; it felt like they would echo forever – until another gust of cold wind rushed through the windows to smother any other source of noise.

With it came an even higher-pitched squeak, and flaps of wings came startlingly close to your ear. You turned just in time to see a flash of black graze past your face.

You yelped and stumbled, only just maintaining your hold on the box and keeping your balance.

When you regained your stability, you glanced in the direction the flapping had gone. A bat stared back, perched on the exposed house supports.

Bats in the attic. Another of the many mentioned issues that came with the property; this was just one you’d forgotten about. They were most likely the reason the house hadn’t been torn down decades ago, and why repairing the house was such a difficult task. How could you not disturb them in a place like this?

The bat had watched, unblinking, through your whole musing. You darted your eyes back to it, then ducked your head and carried on to the kitchen, shutting the door behind you.

—

You crossed paths with the bats constantly; each time they would brush close then stare – pure black eyes, unblinking in their gaze. It was creepy, and you learnt to stop walking around in the dark, when flapping wings and grazed touches would be the only indication of where they were. 

Still, if the bats weren’t leaving and you weren’t either, it seemed the only solution was to take care of them.

You searched for their diets; results indicated insects, fruits, or even blood - depending on the species. It was informative, but with one issue. You hadn’t a clue of the species.

That was how you ended up with a bowl of berries in one hand and a bowl of beetles in the other, climbing up the rickety stairs on your elbows and knees. It was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had. There was no railing for you to hold, and you wouldn’t trust any one of the steps with your full weight, not after two instances where the stairs crumbled into dust underfoot. It became even more of a crawl the further up you got, but you were determined to get there and finally managed, both the bowls and yourself left intact. 

Once again, the bat sat patiently at the top, having watched the entirety of your slow ascent. You wondered why you only ever saw one at a time. Did they take turns coming out? Or was there only one? TV always showed them in groups but you had no idea, pop culture isn’t always the most reliable source.

“This is for you,” you told the bat, setting both bowls down. You’d give it a day to see which one was preferred. At least you’d have use of your hands the next time you scrambled up.

—

“NEITHER?!” 

Both bowls remained full. The bat had inspected it. You’d watched the bat inspect it. And it had taken nothing.

“If you don’t like berries or bugs then what do you eat?” you mumbled, gathering the bowls back up.

“While the berries are preferred, my palette is actually a bit different.”

You really couldn’t be blamed for screaming. Which was then drowned out by smashing ceramics, which you also couldn’t be blamed for. The sudden voice startled you and your body’s reactions kicked in, taking control of your actions to drop everything and flinch forward, away from the voice. 

The upper level wasn’t prepared for such a forceful step, and suddenly the environment blurred, everything looking like it was shooting up… or you were falling down. 

“Oh. oh, shi- I’m so sorry!” the voice rambled, “I didn’t mean to scare you!” It has a body now, a redheaded woman. She had rushed forward and caught you, stopping a potentially deadly fall.

You paused. “You snuck up behind me. In my house. And didn’t mean to scare me?”

“I forgot you could understand me.”

“What does-”

Before you could even ask, the woman decided to show you, morphing into the ever-watching bat before your eyes. This also had the effect of removing her arms, and you dropped to the floor once again. The thud echoed.

The woman morphed back into a human, just to gape at you. When you groaned, she raised a hand to cover her mouth. “I’m-”

You waved her off before she could apologise. Yet she continued. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m a vampire.”

“It’s fine.” You stood up slowly, clutching your chest as you did. “So… you’re a bat.”

“Oh… would you prefer blood then…?” You mentally slapped yourself. Why was THAT your reaction to a vampire in your home? They were creatures you thought belonged to fiction. And seeing someone turn into a bat was definitely not a regular occurrence. Was it offensive to ask if she wanted blood? A stereotype maybe?

“Blood would actually be much better, yes, but I have my own sources.”

“Thank god for that because the beetles were hard enough to source.” Speaking of, they’d been on the floor before you fell… you really hoped there weren’t squished beetles stuck to your back. Your cheeks started to heat with embarrassment, what if the vampire’s first impression of you was just falling and having beetles squished into your back?

“Um… I would like to apologise about the stairs though. They’ve been falling into disrepair for centuries and I’ve been meaning to get them fixed. When you can fly upstairs though it’s easy to put it off, then people keep moving into my house and I couldn’t do it without exposing myself, and I guess the years just slipped away.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just stay in my own bit downstairs and then-... did you say this is your house? Um, is it okay that I’m living here? It’s just that someone kind of sold it to me and I have no money or-”

“You have been a gracious guest so far, I see no reason for you to leave.”

“Thank you then, I’ll stick to my own areas and leave you some privacy in your own home.”

She nodded, and you turned away, cautiously approaching the stairs.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

“You know my name?”

“Of course. I’m Natasha. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

—

Vampires had messed up sleep schedules, you learnt that one fairly quickly. Every few minutes another thud reverberated outside your window, almost shaking the house with the weight. You checked your phone; it was 4am.

You didn’t even bother getting changed. Only one person would be up at this time, and if she was going to wake you so early before your alarm, she was also going to get the worst version of you: tousled hair, cartoon pyjamas, and so sleep-deprived you would fight a bear if it meant you could go back to bed.

When you opened the front door, there Natasha stood, in just a vest and jeans, on the back of a pick-up truck. Where she got the vehicle was beyond you, but it was filled with dark oak wood planks, and she was lifting several trees’ worth of it at a time, dropping it down onto the floor to produce the bangs that woke you.

“NATASHA…uh… I don’t know your last name.”

She smirked. “Romanoff.”

“NATASHA ROMANOFF, IT IS 4AM! What on earth are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to risk you hurting yourself on the stairs now you live here, so I thought I’d fix them.”

“I’ve lived a lot of lives.”

“By yourself?”

“Can you at least let me sleep first? I’ve got to be up in 3 hours for work.”

“Right, yes. I forgot about those things. I’ll wait. See you later, Y/N.”

With that, she flew off, while you rubbed your eyes and returned to your room. Did she even have a clock? You should get her a clock.

—

Graciously, Natasha did wait for you to awaken before she continued, and by the time you left the house, she had moved on to hauling the wood inside.

Upon your return, the stairs were near completion; the redhead had a drill in hand, securing the final few steps with remarkable speed. 

You didn’t even register the ‘wow’ that came out of your mouth until Natasha turned, grin widening to see you home. 

“You like it?”

“How-? I mean, yeah! It looks amazing! But it’s been like, ten hours?”

“Practice enough and you get faster.” She shrugged.

“That much faster?”

“Well…that and vampiric super speed.”

“Oh-”

“It’s cute that you believed me though,” she said with a smirk. You grumbled at her smugness, her arms were stretched over the step behind her and a playful grin adorned her face. 

“You were nicer as a bat.” You teased, sticking out your tongue. Your confidence did not come with the same ease as Natasha’s seemed to - leading you to exhale far too heavily when she laughed, relieved that it hadn’t pushed the boundaries of your newfound friendship/living situation.

You noticed Natasha raise an eyebrow, but she didn’t question it further. She just kept up her smile until you began to walk away - at which point she called out for you again. You spun on your toe the second you heard her, looking up quizzically. She wasn’t in the same spot. Before you could even narrow your eyes at the –now vacant– spot, Natasha reappeared in front of you, followed by a characteristic rush of air.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” The vampire apologised, paying little concern to how far back you’d jumped. “The stairs just need to be finished and uh, I was wondering if you wanted to join me? It’s nice having someone to talk to again.”

You smiled. “What do you have for me to do?”

—

The stairs were a massive improvement; your one-room house suddenly became a whole mansion for you to explore. Which, admittedly, meant more issues for you to find. Natasha had done centuries worth of dusting though, so at least they were clean issues. 

But broken floorboards, collapsed ceilings, smashed windows…there were a whole host of issues, and had you friendly resident vampire not been there to help, you might have just smashed the staircase down again and ignored it all.

As it were, you did not destroy Natasha’s hard work. The vampire saw the stress in your eyes the second you made it upstairs, so she volunteered to repair the house as best she could. She’d acquired a whole host of skills over the years, so her work would save time, money, and the hassle of hiring builders. And she’d enjoy it – she reassured you of that.

It took over your lives for the next few months. When you weren’t at work, you would be helping her, though, with Natasha’s speed, she still ended up doing at least 90% of the work. But she seemed to enjoy the company and praised your small achievements, so that was enough for you.

When it came to housemate bonding activities, you had to say, the standard drinking games didn’t come close to completely remodelling a mansion together. She could tell you the history of every room, the moments she’d spent in there, the functions, even down to the original decision on wallpaper. It was fascinating, and offered an insight into how Natasha once lived: regal and rich and respected enough to own an enviable mansion. And now she spent her days hammering floorboards into place with the broke, graduate, housemate she had acquired.

You asked her then if she missed it; the parties, the customs, the people. 

Natasha hesitated, casually holding the entire wall frame upright as she paused to think. “No,” was her simple answer. “I’ve lived too many lives for far too long to miss them all. I learn from them, I enjoy the memories, but I move on.”

You both fell quiet, silently returning to the build. How long had it taken Natasha to stop missing the past? You had a couple of decades of memories, and even that was enough for you to miss and grieve the past, but she had centuries. Lifetimes of experiences also meant lifetimes of loss.

“This, though.” She interrupted, “This will be a memory I enjoy. It’s been a long time since I’ve made one of those, so thank you, Y/N.”

“I’m glad I met you, Nat.” 

“And I’m glad I didn’t drain your blood.” She grinned, fangs on display.

You sighed. “Ever the affectionate, Natasha.”

—

It was interesting, to look back on life and see what might have been. Natasha advised against it, and given her experience with life perhaps she was right, but you couldn’t help it. One house viewing, accepting the least hospitable house you’d ever seen; had led to this. You owned a mansion now, restored to its full glory and craftsmanship. And you’d gained a friend in this new town, an immortal housemate, like it was no big deal. 

So many memories for the future you to enjoy.

[my-supernatural-rewatch]

Episode 9: Home

Dean Winchester in the Supernatural episode Home

Oh yay. The episode that began my lifelong hatred of John Winchester.

When Sam has visions of a woman in trouble at the old Winchester house in Lawrence, Kansas, he makes Dean go back home in an attempt to both help the new homeowner and possibly discover what really happened to their mother.

This episode annoys me so much I almost don't even want to write about it...but I will.

So it's been 22 years since the fire and John presumably selling the house. (By the way, where did the money from the sale of the house go because it didn't go to housing or feeding the boys, but I digress.)

It's been sold more than once (if they mention how many times in this episode I missed it) because this new family just moved in and shit is happening that Sam dreams about. Now you're caught up.

We know it's the old Winchester house because the new owner finds a wooden box with stuff in it including what looks like could be a handmade card that says DAD across it (which would have had to be from Dean) and some pictures. Another question, why did John leave this box behind? Especially when it gets established in this episode that Dean has family pics. Why save some and not all, John? Huh?

Sam has a dream something bad is going to happen and demands they go back to Lawrence. As anyone not self-involved would be able to guess, Dean is not so keen on this idea given the last time he was in the house he saw his mother burning.

"I swore to myself that I'd never go back there."

Now I know Dean swore this when he got older but I did get a kick out of the idea of a four-year-old making himself a solemn oath to never go back to that house. Actually,that would be very Dean-like.

In spite of that, Dean knows that they have to go check it out. Dean tries to lie to the new homeowner that they're FBI but Sam interrupts with the truth...kind of. He gives their real names and says they just wanted to see the old house.

This happens a lot in fiction and I have to tell you if strangers came to my house and said "we used to live here can we look around" I'd say 'fuck no" for various reasons, among them, I'd need time to clean the damn house but more pressing would be WHY WOULD I LET STRANGERS IN MY HOUSE?

They find out about the weird stuff happening at the house and when Sam tries to get Dean to open up about how he feels about being home Dean drops a truth bomb Sam didn't expect:

"I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions have come true."

Thus begins the storyline of psychic Sam and how somehow this freaks Dean the fuck out. I guess because Dean doesn't want to look at Sam like he's a 'monster' but I still always thought they went a little overboard with how much Sam being psychic weirded Dean out.

Also, I'm team Psychic Sam all the way. They should have never taken his powers away from him.

We have another episode where Dean's instincts about what the monster of the week is - is. I get that Sam is out of practice but we end up hearing about what a great hunter Sam is and, really, from the get-go Dean had it all over him.

We do get some good tidbits in this episode about the night of the fire. 22 years later and Sam JUST learns that Dean was the one who got him out of the house that night. How does that not get mentioned in all that time?

Oh here's how: John never told Dean or Sam what he thought killed Mary. So 22 years of running around the country chasing monsters and almost getting killed and John never actually discussed specifics with the boys. Nice. Nice.

After sharing with Sam about getting him out of the house, Dean ducks out under the guise of having to use the bathroom and makes a desperate call to John's cell phone and we learn that Dean has been leaving messages for John ever since they discovered the phone was turned back on...and, of fucking course, John hasn't responded to any of them.

"...I’m with Sam. And we’re in Lawrence. And there’s something in our old house. I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not, but….(at this point his voice starts to shake and he's trying to keep it all together)…I don’t know what to do. (THEN HE STARTS TO CRY) So, whatever you’re doing, if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad."

So of course the next scene is John calling Dean back right?

RIGHT?

Of fucking course not. I hate that (fictional) man so much.

We find out that John was co-owner of a garage until the fire made him nuts. Dean and Sam talk to his former partner who tells them that John "sure loved Mary and doted on those kids." Also, the partner begged John to get help so someone saw John going down a bad path and tried to do something.

This dude gives them a lead: John hood up with a "palm reader in town" and the boys track down Missouri (again, thanks to Dean remembering something John wrote in his journal about Missouri).

A side note about Missouri. I know everyone loves her but she was at the very least counseling John and knew about Dean and Sam and STILL John ended up being John. As a psychic, she could have done more, IMO, to protect those boys.

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth." Is what John wrote in his journal. So he knew all along and never.told.the.fucking.boys.

You'll note I usually write Dean and Sam. That's because normal people usually say the older sibling's name first. On Supernatural Sam gets first billing, I'm guessing, because Jared got first billing. It's stupid. I always thought it was stupid and I will always hate it.

I only bring it up because when they go see Missouri they don't even have an opportunity to lie about how they are, she clocks them as "Sam and Dean" immediately. She only knew Sam as an infant. It makes so much more sense that she would have said "Dean and Sam" is all I'm saying.

As an aside, in my notes I made a point of writing down that this episode is rife with dramatic close-ups of Dean. This is supposed to be Sam's story, really, but the director reminds us at all times that it's also Dean's.

We get an obligatory dumb thing to happen to move the plot along when the mom in the Winchester house leaves her baby alone in the kitchen after all kinds of sketchy stuff has been going on...only to give us a truly frightening moment when the kid crawls into the open fridge and gets locked in. Christ, that was scarier than most of this show's monsters.

Dean makes it his job to make sure "no one else dies" in the house/ Because it's always on him.

I think this is the first episode where we see hex bags (although they don't call them that). Missouri and Dean are making them and are going to shove them into the walls of the house. Okay, let's go.

I don't know if it was my tv, my eyes, the time of day I watched the episode or the actual episode itself, but man this one seemed to be shot much more darkly than other episodes.

The poltergeist basically kicks Misssouri's and Sam's asses while Dean fends it off...and comes to Sam's rescue...of course.

They trash the house in their efforts to get rid of the poltergeist...and Dean seemingly does just that according to Missouri.

When the owner comes back to the house, Missouri tells her Dean will clean up. She's been giving Dean shit the entire episode with no explanation. It makes no sense. Dean is the one who was old enough that she would have remembered, connected with. Why is she so shitty to him.?

They all leave with literally no proof that they've done anything but destroy the house and the new owner is all "Thanks!"

Just like the film Poltergeist, even though they thought the thing was gone...it wasn't. And Sam senses it so luckily they are right outside the house when Sam's vision starts to come true and they rush in to save the day.

The poltergeist is still in the house...but so is another ghost...Mary Winchester.

And she's a bit of a drama queen...appearing to them in flames. And she only says three things, their names "Dean." "Sam." and then she says "I'm sorry" to Sam. That's it. Then she turns around, yells at the poltergeist and he leaves.

Who knew it was that simple?

We get a shot of Dean holding a picture of him holding Sam and it is just too squee for words.

So according to Missouri, Mary "destroyed herself" when she yelled at the poltergeist so the house is clean of ghosts and hopefully (I guess) that means Mary got destroyed to Heaven.

The last thing Missouri says to them is "Don't you boys be strangers." Dean's response? "We won't."

Twelve years later Dean and Sam see her again.

We get a huge reveal at the end of the episode which isn't that huge a reveal since Jeffrey Dean Morgan's damn name was in the opening credits but when Missouri goes home, guess who's there? Fucking John.

Missouri can't figure out why with his psychic powers Sam couldn't sense John was there. She tells him Mary DID save the boys and she's upset he won't tell them he's there. He tells her he can't until he 'knows the truth.'

Oh shut the fuck up, John. You suck so goddamn hard.

Some notes for posterity:

THERE IS NO MUSIC IN THIS EPISODE. None. WTH?

Dean tries to tell the new homeowner they're FBI but Sam tells the truth. They pose as cops investigating the house fire/John's disappearance when interviewing his ex-business partner.

Movie References: Dean brings up both The Shining and a reference to Poltergeist in this one.

This hunt takes place in Lawrence, Kansas.

Dean wears John’s jacket in this episode but only at the end.

Not including the pilot and John's outgoing voicemail message, this is the first time both John and Mary are in an episode taking place in the current day.

Recognizable Guest Stars: Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Samantha Smith, Loretta DeVine

[bsof-maarav]

Things I saw on my way to shul this Shabbat:

A house with tons of pro-Hamas signs in the window right next to a house with one huge sign that said "You Need Jesus"

A series of telephone poles covered in pro-Hamas posters, but one was torn one down and in the white residue it left behind, someone wrote Bring Them Home Now

Pieces left behind of stickers about antisemitism that had been torn down, with just a few words left readable, pleas for recognition that Israelis and Jews are human

The poster that's been up since October on a public electrical box that says "The world stands with Palestine" (which always makes me roll my eyes and think, yes, Jews know the world stands with whoever would like to eliminate us, this isn't news) was updated to also say Fuck Israel

The "Viva Palestina" sign depicting a terrorist with a gun that's been in the window of one house since October was updated to add more names of murderous terrorists that the homeowner wished to honor with a special shout-out

The huge banner outside of a church saying "Love demands a permanent ceasefire now!" with an image of a dove carrying an olive branch apparently offended the local bird population who didn't want their image associated with this message so they pooped all over it

Many, many signs campaigning for a candidate for city council who says she is a "recovering Zionist" who did "ancestral healing" so that she no longer feels a stake in the ancestral homeland full of refugees and can now be a Good Jew (her campaign slogan is about her compassion and integrity which is rich when you consider she's part of the mob screaming at Shoah survivors in city council meetings that they're lying and works with a white supremacist guy who literally calls Jews "zios" and pigs)

The most gorgeously lush and varied flower gardens that you could ever imagine gracing every sidewalk

Flowering trees everywhere

Birds, bees, butterflies, well fed squirrels, and prosperous housecats of all kinds

Gorgeous period architecture, much of it beautifully preserved

A homeless person under a freeway overpass, trying to snuggle into a comfortable position on the cement, in the exact place that another homeless person was recently found dead

Multimillion dollar houses in one of the wealthiest areas of a country that never gets bombed, covered in signs advocating their support for Israel to keep being bombed and terrorized

On a street full of houses with pro-Hamas placards, one solitary house with a mezuzah and a sign on its door saying שלום