#Cheap Thermal Rolls

[robinsonkelly]

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[aprilclementine]

teacher!steve, coming into to work so, so, sleepy, bags under his eyes, hair is completely deflated, the biggest thermal he has filled to the brim with coffee, glasses on because he couldn't be bothered to put in contacts.

He couldn't even stand up straight as he greeted his students, yawning as he greeted each student, leaning his entire weight against the door frame, getting a worried look from the English teacher, Nancy, as she caught his eye from down the hall, he gave her a small gesture, and a tired smile, hoping she'd understand it meant they could talk at lunch.

Steve was apologizing for his yawning the entire day, and sure enough come lunch there was rapid knocking just as the last kid had walked out, he was greeted by Nancy, and Robin, the music teacher.

"Steve, you look like death! Nance, you weren't kidding!" The two of them both took seats, in the closest student desks to Steve, who was mumbling out responses as he laid his head on his desk.

"Okay, spiiilllll." Nancy dragged on, drumming against the desk excitedly. Steve sat up, with another yawn, as he took a long sip from his coffee.

"Geez, did Eddie get home from tour, and forget it was a school night, you two must've had fun!" Robin wiggled her eyebrows at Steve, as Nancy giggled behind her hand.

"Ha-Ha, Buckley. But, sort of, NO- Not in the way you two think, get your head out of the gutter, Wheeler!" Steve pointed a stern finger at her, as she gave him a suggestive look. "He greeted me when I got home, we finished our fun pretty early, actually, I was ready to sleep like a baby." Steve recounted, as a blush began to run up his neck, at the thought of Eddie last night.

He cleared his throat as he continued, "Eddie, still jet lagged, got the great idea to invite his old bandmates over, and instead of practicing in the soundproof studio that we recently added, because it "wouldn't be the same, Stevie!", they practiced heavy f-cking metal, until 4 in the morning, in the garage, which is directly under our bedroom.”

The two girls let out laughs, and gave Steve a sympathetic nod. "So, I didn't get a wink of sleep, didn't even have time to pack myself lunch." Steve sighed as he looked at his watch, seeing he wouldn't have enough time to run into town to grab anything either.

The two girls stood, talking at the same time, "I packed some extra lunch," "You can share with me, I can't promise it'll be good, though.”

Steve stood with the girls, nodding along, as they made their way to the door to walk down to the teachers lounge. As Steve opened the classroom door for the girls, he was greeted by none other than the reason for his lack of sleep.

"Hey Sweetheart," Eddie greeted with a sweet smile, Steve groaned playfully, rolling his eyes, as the girls walked past the two of them, whispering to eachother.

"Oh! Don't forget how thin these cheap walls are, Munson!" Robin called over her shoulder, as Nancy let out another laugh. Eddie flipped her off, as he followed closely behind Steve into his classroom.

Steve sat back on his rolling chair, looking up at Eddie as he stood in front of Steve's desk. Eddie swayed back and forth, hands hidden behind his back. "I figured you probably didn't get much sleep last night-"

"Oh really? What gave it away?" Steve scoffed, taking off his round glasses, and setting them to the side.

"Well, you were grumbling all morning and threw all of your discarded outfit choices pretty roughly at my sleeping head today." Eddie listed off. Steve let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, humming in response. At this, Eddie moved his hands from behind his back, showcasing a brown bag. "So, I thought what better way to repay my honey, than to bring him a greasy lunch full of love."

Steve reached out happily, knowing he couldn't stay grumpy when Eddie was giving him those eyes. Steve began eating, as Eddie moved around Steve's desk, taking a seat on the desk in front of him. He messed with his rings, as he watched Steve hum satisfied as he took his first bite.

"I figured you didn't have time to pack a lunch, and couldn't have you surving on coffee the whole day." Eddie continued, and Steve gave him a fond smile, nodding as he swallowed.

"You saved me from eating whatever leftovers Robin had cooked up, and was going to share with me." Steve laughed, "Last time I ate what she made me, I had to use my precious Sick Days!"

Eddied joined in on the laughter, before hooking his heel around the arm rest of Steves rolling chair, and pulling him closer, so Steve was slotted between Eddies legs, Steve let Eddie pull him, resting his elbows on his thighs, as he continued to eat his burger.

Eddie began combing his fingers through Steves hair, humming along to a instrumental they came up with last night. "Missed you, missed us." Eddie said softly, as Steve finished his burger, throwing the wrapper back in the bag, and moving closer into Eddies touch, snaking his arms around Eddies waist. "Maybe you should've used more of those precious Sick Days, so you coulda stayed in bed with me."

Steve smiled, feeling his cheeks flush. "Couple more days, and then you'll be able to bug me all of Winter break, my love." Eddie sighed, cupping Steve's face, making him look up at him. Steve kept his eyes shut, soft smile on his lips. Eddie kissed both of his eyelids, then his nose, then his cheeks, before placing one lasting kiss on his lips. He pulled away, causing Steve to whine, chasing after his lips. Eddie smiled lovingly, pressing his lips to Steves again.

The two lazily kissed as Eddie sat on Steves desk, until the bell rang, and when Steve stood and tried to pull away, Eddie pulled him closer, bringing Steve's bottom lip into his mouth, Steve giggled, pulling back softly, not being able to fully talk. "Babe- Mph, I- have to open the-mMpH the door."

Eddie shook his head, humming disapprovingly. "Five more minutes", he begged against Steves lips, keeping his arms hooked around Steve’s waist.

"They'll start knocking", Steve protested, once Eddie released his lip, and leaned up to kiss the mole on Steves exposed neck.

"Let them." Eddie mumbled, and Steve realized he wouldn't win this battle, so he stood there, wrapping his arms over Eddies shoulders, as Eddie lazily kissed along his jaw, out of love, not looking to go any further, more of I missed you kind of kisses, because he missed being home, in Steve’s arms.

The knocking started, just as Steve suspected. Only getting louder, as Eddie protested. "Steve! Open up, my sister told me Eddie's here!" Steve could hear Mike yell through the knocking, he sighed, as he pulled away, and went to open the door.

"Michael, we talked about this- It's Mr.Harrington, to you, during school hours!" Steve corrected, Mike rolled his eyes as Steve used his full name. As soon as the door was opened fully, the kids started piling in.

Dustin, and Mike running up to Steve's desk, to bombard Eddie with questions about tour, and if the kids begged Steve to let Eddie talk about tour, instead of prep for their final (Mr.Harrington, this is geography, technically, it would work perfectly! I teach History, Lucas! Are they not the same thing?), no one had to know.

Steve really only gave in, once he finally looked at Eddie (oh, cmon Stevie, you'd get to sit back and rest for a class period). So, Steve sat back, and watched fondly as Eddie talked animatedly to the class, asking Steve to display each city Corroded Coffin played at, as he spoke about it, rating the city on his “Munson Scale”. Was it educational? No. Was it useful information? Also, no. Was it entertaining? Yes.

Steve tried to lay his head on his desk, and get in a quick 30-minute nap, but was too captivated watching his Eddie entertain his students, he couldn't focus on anything, not even feeling tired anymore.

It was as if Eddie had carried the Sun in with him, and brought life back into Steve, and Steve was so thankful to have Eddie back home.

[woman-for-women]

hello w4w! i love your blog, thank you for all that you do. i was wondering how you make your stickers? i would love to make some feminist stickers with my own designs! thank you/have a good day!

Hi, and thank you! I think this is a good chance to write up:

How you (yes, you!) can make your own feminist stickers (a comprehensive guide from cheapest to most expensive)

Method 1 - Label Sticker Roll and Markers

This is the easiest and cheapest method. ANYONE can do this! (Seriously, this is your sign.)

You can use regular permanent markers, multicolored markers, or jumbo markers (seen above) for your desired effect. You can also buy label stickers in smaller packs if $10 for 500 is out of your budget. Permanent markers also last a long time and stay visible for ages. However, the label stickers will deteriorate over time, since they're primarily paper-based and not water proof. I use a glossy paper for my stickers, which has held up decently in heavy rain conditions.

Method 2 - Label Sticker Roll and Stamps

You can use a customized rubber stamp, a customized self-inking stamp, or a self-inking stamp that you customize yourself with the provided tray of rubber stamping letters that you place on the stamp tray (seen above). This option is great because you can quickly make tons of stickers. The downside is that stamp ink is a little less weather resistant than permanent marker, and the labels are still not water-proof.

Method 3 - Printing Stickers without a Sticker Printer

These label sticker sheets come in a ton of styles! Since it's just a special 8.5 x 11 in paper, it works in most regular printers! You can format your text or artwork to print on each sticker in Word, Canva, or Adobe Illustrator, then print it at home, at a print shop, or at a local library. Again, these aren't waterproof since they're primarily paper-based, but they stick pretty well and can help you make stickers quickly.

Method 4 - Outsource your Printing

printplace.com does vinyl stickers for super cheap. You just upload your artwork and you can get stickers for around $0.05/sticker. The downside is you have to buy in bulk, meaning prices start around $50, but the upside is the stickers are high quality, waterproof and weather resistant, don't require tons of manual labor from you to produce, and are ready to go once they arrive on your doorstep!

Method 5 - Thermal Label Printer

This is the method I use to make my stickers! The two printers below are the ones I have, and the refills are the tape refills I use. Since they're thermal printers, they don't use ink. Although the printers are a bit pricey, you get a lot of stickers for your money per sticker tape refill order.

Both printers use a phone app to print and design stickers. They work via Bluetooth and connect to your phone to do all the printing. Both printers print black text/designs only. The Vixic label printer app is a lot more limited. You can only use different fonts and text, small emojis/icons, and different borders for your sticker design. The NIIMBOT printer allows for QR codes and uploaded images in addition to different fonts/text. The stickers are also larger. The NIIMBOT printer is compatible with several different sticker sizes. The NIIMBOT stickers are primarily paper-based, so they're not completely waterproof. If you want your NIIMBOT stickers to be waterproof, you can buy their clear stickers! Both printers support clear and different-colored tape refills for more colorful stickers. You can also color on your NIIMBOT stickers with Sharpies to add color.

Between the two I would recommend the NIIMBOT. The refills are a much better value for your money and the stickers are larger and more versatile.

For further resources, I would recommend checking out my w4w how to tag, linked here! It explains how I make my artwork for infographics, posts, (and stickers) in Canva!

You can also order FREE Radical Feminist stickers and dowload FREE ARTWORK for your own stickering/flyering endeavors from my store here!

Because my store blew up overnight a few days ago, I'm introducing limited-inventory drops (hence the X left banner on each item), where every few weeks I will package and add more stickers. That way when someone orders, it's guaranteed their stickers are packaged and all I have to do is address an envelope to them and ship it.

In order to keep up with demand and keep this project afloat, the stickers will remain free/pay-what-you-can, but I'm charging less than $2 for shipping to keep this project funded and make sure I can make and distribute as many stickers. It's also a pretty cheap option for stickers, which is the whole point of my sticker project!

The good news is I'm mailing discount codes on the back of my business cards to customers so they can get a discount on any return orders! I encourage people to order again :)

You can also download 20+ sticker designs, completely for free, in the link above. You can use it to make your own stickers, flyers, whatever you want!

Happy stickering!

[leiawritesstories]

PART ONE: JANUARY

Masterlist

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: swearing, fire, an explosion, alcohol, mentions of homicide, other criminal behaviours, mentions of evil people, lots and LOTS of scheming

A/N: hey everyone! today's a holiday in the US, so here's a little present! Enjoy!!!

huge shoutout to @house-of-galathynius for beta reading 🫶🫶🫶

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was past three in the morning when Aelin finally slipped back into her apartment, cursing under her breath as she slammed the window shut, locking out the frigid January air. Winter in Orynth was bitter at best, the north wind intent on viciously slicing through all her layers of clothing, and it had taken her a full minute to warm her fingers up enough for the scanner to read her fingerprint. Shaking stray snowflakes from her thick coat, she hung the garment on the coat rack, unlaced her boots, and gratefully shucked those too, finally able to flop down on the couch with a heartfelt groan of relief, only to immediately jump back onto her feet before the half-crusted blood on her suit could seep into the couch. 

She’d spent at least a few hundred dollars on that couch–no sense staining yet another piece of shitty furniture with the blood of some lowdown criminal. 

Grumbling, Aelin stalked down the short hallway into the bathroom, flipped on the weak light, and turned the shower tap all the way to the hottest temperature. It wasn’t even that hot–damn cheap ass landlord. This apartment was a piece of shit by her standards, lacking basic necessities like reliable hot water, air conditioning, a functional oven, and decent water pressure. Of course, everyone knew that Aelin Ashryver Galathynius would never dream of coming within five miles of a place like that–no, the well-off CEO was known to live in a penthouse apartment in downtown Orynth, in a sleek modern high-rise that absolutely reeked of money. As far as Boss Galathynius’s standards were concerned, though, the place was perfect. Bordered by the industrial district and the shipping district, the neighborhood was just sketchy enough that nobody asked any questions and just classy enough to be relatively safe during the daytime. It was the kind of place where people kept their business to themselves. Perfect for her…needs. 

As the shower creaked and groaned and sputtered out a stream of tepid water, Aelin rolled her shoulders, unzipped the form-fitting black tactical fabric of her suit, and peeled the material from her skin, groaning when she saw just how badly the suit was stained. Fuck, she’d have to wash it, and then get it properly cleaned. Leaving the suit on the floor, she stepped into the pathetic excuse for a shower and turned her face into the spray, allowing the water to soften the splatters of blood on her face and neck. Rutting gods, why in all hell couldn’t there be hot hot water? With this barely-warm water, it was going to take ages to shed her second skin. She sighed and turned the tap as far up as it would go, stood under the water for another few minutes, then grunted and grabbed her soap and scrubbed her whole body, even though the suit and her gloves kept most of her protected from the rather unfortunate side effects of her, erm, nighttime job.  

The soap also helped to loosen up the barely detectable layer of synthetic skin laying atop Aelin’s real skin until it started to peel enough that she could get her hands onto it and peel, pulling it away from her body. It came off mostly intact, only tearing in a few places. Gods, this was such an improvement from the early phases–she still shuddered in remembrance of the beta model that flaked into bits and took her hours to remove. 

In her own skin once more, Aelin scrubbed herself again, then shut off the shower, grabbed her towel, dried off, threw on fleece-lined leggings and a long-sleeved thermal shirt, and dragged herself into the bedroom to flop onto the shitty mattress for about two hours of sleep. 

She woke to her six o’clock alarm, swore at the clock, dragged herself out of bed, and went to scrub her suit as best as she could in the crappy shower. It took the pathetic excuse for hot water ten minutes before it got hot, so she just grabbed the bucket she kept for this occasion, filled it up, splashed in some laundry detergent, and dumped her suit into the mix. Shit, she really needed to invest in dry cleaning. 

With the suit at least partially clean–and the water she’d just dumped down the drain significantly bloodier than most people would consider normal–Aelin rolled her suit up tightly, shoved it into a plastic bag, pulled on her boots and heavy parka jacket, shouldered her backpack, and left the building, thankful that the January morning was dark enough for her to go unnoticed amongst the trickle of people leaving early for work. She kept her head down as she deftly wove through the maze of streets, just one more bundled-up citizen among the many. 

As the sky slowly lightened from blue-black to steel-gray, Aelin slipped into a side alley and followed the narrow street across into another neighborhood, this one lined with cozy brick buildings and clean-swept sidewalks. She ducked in the side door of a bakery, completely ignoring the “Employees Only” sign posted outside, and muffled a violent curse as she accidentally kicked a pallet of flour. 

Irritated footsteps hurried rapidly into the storage room. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you, Ilias, come in the front door before–oh, it’s just you.” 

Aelin waved. “It’s just me.” 

Nesryn Faliq rolled her dark eyes and flicked on the light. “Can I assume you’ve brought the linens again?” 

“If you’d be so kind,” Aelin returned, nodding. “I’ll come take care of them after work today.” 

“You know what happens if you don’t,” Nesryn retorted. She flashed Aelin a quick grin. “I’ve got twenty minutes before opening, boss. You gonna do something useful or just stand there?” 

Aelin chuckled and followed Nesryn into the warm, yeast-scented kitchen. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes before I have to go do hot boss-lady shit.” 

“You CEO girls and your crazy sayings,” Nesryn snorted. 

“Keeps the job fun.” Aelin winked. “Gods know we CEO girls need a bit of fun sometimes.”

For half an hour, Aelin organized fresh loaves of bread onto racks, boxed up muffins and pastries, and did a little inventory. Nesryn bumped her hip in gratitude and left a huge iced coffee on the countertop. “I know you need it.” 

“Thanks, luv,” Aelin crooned in her best British accent, taking a long sip of the sweet caffeinated goodness. 

The baker laughed wryly. “Don’t make too many poor little guys piss themselves, boss lady!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Faliq!” 

~

“Hey.” Elide poked her head into Aelin’s office. 

Aelin barely glanced up from her computer. “Yeah?” 

The petite woman dropped a slip of paper on Aelin’s desk. “Thought you might want to see this.” 

“Mhmm.” Distractedly, Aelin took the paper and set it by her keyboard, not really looking away from whatever she was busily typing. “Thanks, Ells.” 

“Aelin.” Elide’s voice was not the kind to be brushed off. “I need you to look at that. Now.” 

The steel in her second’s voice jerked Aelin out of her focus mode. She blinked, shook her head, and properly came to attention. “Okay.” She picked up the small paper and scanned the short message, and her eyes widened slightly, the only outward sign of her shock. “What.” 

“Go check on it.” Elide grasped Aelin’s hand and practically hauled her to her feet. “I’ll handle anything that comes to your office for however long it takes you. Go. Now.” 

Barely remembering to close her computer, Aelin hurried upstairs to her other office, rushing through the security protocols, and dropped into her boss chair. She snatched the small headset that rested in the second drawer of her desk and turned it on. The earpiece was barely in her ear before she was barking commands into the device. 

“Boss?” Nox answered within seconds of her ringing him. 

“I need to hear the chatter.” Aelin gave no explanation–she knew Nox would know exactly what she was talking about. 

“Right.” There was a series of clicks and taps on the other end of the line as Nox found the audio he needed her to hear. “Timestamp: 1147 this morning, Orynth PD Channel 074.” He pressed another button, and radio static crackled in Aelin’s ear for a few seconds before resolving into a few male voices. 

He’s supposed to arrive today.

Who?

The special forces officer, you jackass! Didn’t you listen to the captain’s briefing?

The hell would I? He hasn’t said anything useful for weeks. 

There was the unmistakable sound of someone swatting someone else upside the head. Whatever. Special forces comes today. 

Hope he’s able to get some kind of info on this godsdamn case. A snort. If he can’t, I hope to the bloody gods they toss the whole thing, cuz I’m just about done waiting around for some criminal who doesn’t exist to leave evidence of their supposed crimes.

The hell d’you mean, ‘doesn’t exist?’ We wouldn’t be on this fucking case if the criminal didn’t exist! Stakeouts take time, officer.

Not this much time. That was a new voice, Aelin observed, and she could hear the muffled curses and rustles of surprise that followed this new voice’s entry into the conversation. 

Just who the hell are you? 

Special forces. Interesting. Aelin filed that little fact away for later. 

Fine. Welcome to the investigation. Ain’t shit worth investigating, though.

The special forces officer chuckled sarcastically. That’s what all you morons think, isn’t it?

Who the fuck are you calling a moron?

All of you. I wouldn’t be here if you were competent. Where’s the case file? I need it. 

Aelin knew it was bad of her, but gods, she liked this special forces officer. He wasn’t afraid to call Orynth PD out on their incompetence. She listened to the police officers and the special forces officer for a few more minutes before Nox turned it off. 

“That’s pretty much all they said within our range.” 

Aelin nodded, though her master tech hacker couldn’t see her. “Thanks, Nox.” 

“Anytime, boss.” She heard the smirk in his voice. “I’ll keep you posted on their chatter.” 

“As you should.” 

~

Aelin was disappointed. 

It had been over a week since Nox picked up that first chatter about special forces joining the investigation, and as far as she knew, the team hadn’t tried any kind of infiltration into her headquarters. And Aelin would have known if they tried anything–she hadn’t ascended to the top of the criminal underworld without learning a few lessons. Most of them bloody. 

Unbidden, a memory flashed through her mind: the thick coppery tang of blood filling a windowless cement chamber, ropes digging into raw flesh, a man’s leering whisper in her ear. You need to learn how to behave, you little whore. The unmistakable crack of bones. A girl’s scream. 

Inhaling sharply, Aelin forced the memory out of her mind, shoving it back down into the abyss where it belonged. She grasped the small framed photograph she kept on her desk and stared into the laughing eyes of the photographed couple, rooting herself in the unfaltering courage of her parents. I am Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid. The fate of her company, her business, and all of her people depended on it. 

She practically slept through most of the workday, bored with the interminable waiting for special forces or PD or anyone to make some kind of move. As much as she wanted to be the instigator, Elide and Ansel had both threatened her with various forms of torture if she did “anything fucking stupid,” as they so graciously put it. Aelin had just held up her hands and sworn innocence. Neither of her dear friends believed her for a second. Still, her promise held–she wouldn’t start shit. 

Unless an irresistible opportunity presented itself. 

Tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap. Ansel’s knock sounded against Aelin’s office door. The Galathynius office, not the work one. Looking up from her laptop, Aelin checked to make sure her low-lit office was all in order, then snapped to disarm the door’s defense mechanisms. “Enter.” 

The redhead opened the door. “Boss?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Got someone here who wants to talk to you. I think you’ll be…intrigued by what he has to say.” 

“Hmm.” Aelin steepled her fingers, thinking. “Send him in.” 

Ansel jerked her head towards Aelin’s office in signal. Two of the Galathynius outfit’s men, both huge and muscular and bristling with weapons, escorted a bound, gagged man into the boss’s office, dumped him in the chair opposite Aelin, and removed his gag. With a curt nod to their boss, they left the office, taking up guard posts outside the door to make sure nothing unfortunate happened. 

Aelin swept a cold gaze over the man, noting his features–brown hair, pale green eyes, decently muscular, about six feet tall, probably had at least three concealed knives if he was as smart as she thought he was–and hummed softly. “Well?” 

The man drew in a huge, shaky breath. “Well what, miss–I mean, boss–I mean–”

“Drop the act, smuggler.” 

“Galathynius.” He cleared his throat. “Good to finally meet you. My name is Rolfe.” 

Aelin arched one blonde brow. “Rolfe. They call you the Pirate Lord because you’ve managed to perfect smuggling into an art that few can detect, yes? Which does a great deal of service to my little business.” She chuckled softly, dangerously. “They also say you smuggle more things than just drugs, weapons, and cash.” 

Rolfe simply nodded. “I’m not stupid enough to tell you you’re wrong.” 

Casually, Aelin lifted her booted feet onto her desk, languidly crossing one leg over the other. Her shoes of choice were sleek black patent leather boots with a blood-red sole and six-inch stiletto heels that concealed actual stiletto knives. Fashionable and deadly, her favorite combination. “Perhaps not. But you’re clearly also not smart enough to realize I know those bonds aren’t holding you.” 

The so-called Pirate Lord laughed wryly and shook off the ropes around his body. “Should’ve known you’d know.” 

She smirked. “Get to business, Rolfe. I’m also not a very stupid person, and I know full well you didn’t come waltzing onto my territory just to show off your prowess with escaping bonds.” 

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Galathynius, I know you’re very busy destroying all your enemies and all that shit, and I think I can help.” 

“In more ways than just smuggling in my shipments?” 

“Yeah.” His pale green eyes were sharp, calculating. “Y’see, I spend most of my time outside of Orynth, working the waterways, and I hear things. Shippers love to gossip.” He cleared his throat. “I have it on good info–took a little torture, but what doesn’t?–that someone named Cairn Wilkins is coming into Orynth in a couple weeks. Apparently the boss he worked for turned up dead a little while ago, and he’s dead set on getting revenge on whoever the hell did it.” 

“Interesting,” Aelin mused, her face completely calm despite the rapid speed at which her mind was turning. “He wouldn’t happen to have worked for a certain Arobynn Hamel, would he?” 

“That’s the one.” 

“Makes sense.” She tapped her scarlet fingernails on her desk. “Cairn Wilkins is a slimy, dirty bastard who always needs someone bigger and badder to follow. Ugly bitch can’t even form a thought without someone to tell him what to think.”

Rolfe snorted. “Sounds about right. Well, he’s got a decent foundation here under the name Wilkins Trading–you know it?” Aelin nodded. “According to the sea talk, he’ll get here on the 27th unless the weather doesn’t cooperate. Probably won’t waste any time starting his little revenge hunt. And he’s not known for subtlety, so you’ll know he’s here.” 

“I knew that.” Aelin flashed the smuggler a knife-edged grin that made him (and all the others who’d seen that grin) recoil a few inches. “Cairn always did have a flair for leaving trails of blood and shit wherever he goes; it’s probably some misplaced pride in being a dirty criminal. Never did him any good with the law, though.” 

“The ones he hasn’t bought, at least.” 

“Indeed.” Aelin swung her feet down and stood gracefully, leaning her hip against the side of her desk. “My thanks for the information, Rolfe. Have anything else interesting to say?” 

He glanced at the calendar on the wall. “Your next cargo will be here in four days, right on schedule. Want it delivered to the usual warehouse?” 

“As always.” She held out her hand. 

Standing, Rolfe shook her hand firmly. “Just one more thing, Galathynius.” 

“Make it quick.” She flicked a glance at the clock. “I’ve got somewhere to be in less than an hour.” 

He cleared his throat. “Whatever you’re planning for Wilkins, be extra careful. The PD team they’ve got investigating the, uh, murder cases is suddenly a lot more present down in the shipping districts. Special forces is–” 

“Involved, I know. Finally bit the bullet and sent over an officer about a week ago.” 

“Yeah. This officer, though, he’s not just any special ops guy. I barely even knew he existed until he showed up on the investigation, and I always know all the info about the military. It’s because of the job, of course–can’t risk falling for some stupid trap.” 

“Stop blathering and tell me about the man,” Aelin sighed. 

Rolfe swallowed. “He’s a Doranellian, trained up at that military academy they have. He’s relentless, demanding, won’t take any bullshit, worse than a bloodhound for his sniffing around. His name is Whitethorn.” 

“Hmm.” Aelin absorbed the new information calmly. “Thanks, Rolfe. I’ll be careful.” With that, she opened her office door and let the smuggler out. She lifted her chin at the two guards standing outside her door, who instantly flanked Rolfe, blindfolded him–“for security, you understand”–and escorted him out of the building. She closed her door and returned to her desk, mulling over the details. Whitethorn. For some reason, the name sounded familiar. She’d probably heard her uncle say it. 

Uncle Gavriel Ashryver was a good man and an excellent soldier, but he loved to talk about the men he was proud of. It was a wonderful quality in a commanding officer. It was less wonderful when a notorious criminal heard all the information and tucked it away for future…use. 

Not that she would ever betray her uncle by using what he’d shared about his soldiers to attack the special forces base, or any other military base. She had nothing but respect for Gav, for the position he held, and for the skill with which he led the special forces branch. 

She just had a personal interest in keeping the special forces away from her personal business. 

~

Gods. Fucking. Dammit. Rowan was starting to believe that there would never be a week where he was able to do anything without a murder report. This was what, the fourth one this month? And it hadn’t even been two weeks since he started working on the investigation. 

“Where.” Rowan slammed the truck door so hard the vehicle rattled. He stalked over to the pair of police officers standing at the edge of the crime scene, a small part of him delighting in the way they jumped to attention as he approached. “Where.”

“Right here, Lieutenant.” The lady officer lifted a segment of the bright yellow tape marking off the crime scene. “Discovered at 0622 this morning; initial sweep estimates that the time of death was between four and seven hours before the discovery.” 

Rowan nodded curtly. “And the victims?” 

“We’ve left that to your discretion.” 

Finally, someone with a shred of common sense. “Good. I’ll handle it from here.” He didn’t wait for any answer before striding into the garage. 

Inside the relatively small, open building, three forms lay beneath a black tarp. Rowan crossed the space, noting the way the cement floor gently sloped down towards the center of the space–probably designed so that any spills from the mechanical or repair work done there could easily be washed down the drain in the middle of the floor. He pulled the tarp aside, assessed the state of the bodies, and sucked in a sharp breath. 

Bruises, ropes still tied around the wrists and ankles, slashed throats. So similar to every single other victim in the string of murders the Orynth PD hadn’t been able to solve. 

Snapping on a pair of latex gloves and a protective mask, Rowan knelt down by the bodies and carefully scanned the details he could see without disturbing them. His eyes narrowed, his brows scrunching together and forming a furrow in his forehead. That thought he’d had about the MO of these homicides being similar to the previous ones? He threw it straight into his mental garbage. These victims didn’t display any signs of the extensive beating the other victims had displayed, nor did they appear to have been captive for any significant length of time. The only similarity between these victims and the ones he was certain were the Galathynius outfit’s work was the slashed throats. And even that was different in this case–sloppier. Much sloppier. 

“Have them sent to the morgue.” Rowan stood and discarded his protective gear. “Don’t rush the autopsies. I’m not convinced this incident is significant.” 

“With all due respect, Lieutenant, every homicide should be sig–”

“Wrong.” Rowan snorted. “This incident is tragic, as all homicides are, but I have no reason to believe it’s at all related to what we are investigating.” Before the cop could protest, he held up a silencing hand. “Just send them to the morgue, collect any relevant evidence from the scene, and clean it up. We’re not here to deal with petty criminal shit.” 

Which was precisely what that incident turned out to be. 

“You’re certain?” Rowan arched one pale brow, half-disbelieving. 

“Positive.” The medical examiner flipped through her stack of charts and images until she found the right page. “See this? This is his trademark.” She pointed to the close-up images of the throats. “The incision pattern shows that the weapon used was clearly a serrated blade, and we only ever see serrated blades used when Cairn is…active. My theory is that he’s one of those men who do something once and decide that’s the only way to do it.” 

“Classic dumb criminal shit,” Rowan snorted. “All right, we’ll take care of the, uh, cleanup. Thanks, Borte.” 

Borte nodded. “Never a dull moment with this process, is there?” 

“Hardly.” Rowan rolled his eyes. “I’m starting to wish there was a dull moment here and there, but better to have no breaks than too much silence.”

If there was one thing he’d learned in his years dealing with sophisticated criminals, it was that long stretches of silence meant something truly explosive was about to go down. 

~

On the night of January 28th, Aelin went home after work rather than going up to her private office. Her team could handle anything that passed through. She needed to be home, both for the well-deserved night of rest and for the alibi. 

Earlier that afternoon, Elide had dropped a memo on her desk and given a subtle, covert nod as she walked away. The note was short, blunt, and direct. 

It’s all ready. Tonight. 

She strolled into her building, her heels clicking softly on the polished marble flooring of the lobby, and smiled briefly at the few other residents passing by, all of them well-dressed and practically reeking of money. The building was one of the most upscale apartment buildings in Orynth; rent was astronomical to everyone but the people who lived there. With her salary, she could easily afford the penthouse of this place; however, she didn’t like the whole-wall-of-windows design of this penthouse, so she just lived in a normal apartment. 

The elevator ride up to the sixteenth floor was smooth and quick, and she was relieved to see that the hallway was empty. She walked to her door, unlocked it, and let herself in, barely able to wait before the door was locked again before kicking off her heels and releasing a long, long groan of satisfaction. No feeling like sweet relief from those torture devices–she’d never seen the point of shoes that didn’t use their design to hide weapons. A quick glance at the clock on her oven told her she had a few hours before anything…happened, so she decided to indulge in a luxurious hot bath. 

Night had fully fallen when she emerged from the bathroom, stretching languidly, and went over to her wine cooler to select a drink for the night. CEO wealth did have its perks, and one of them was the ability to purchase or be gifted the finest wines her money could buy. She poured herself a glass, checked the time, and went to put on shoes before leaving her apartment, locking up behind herself, and going up to the rooftop. 

From the rooftop of her building, Aelin could see all of Orynth, the sprawling metropolis glistening with the crystals of the city lights. She leaned against the glass half-wall encircling the perimeter of the rooftop, flirting with danger like she was so fond of doing, feeling the evening breeze stir her loose hair. Her wineglass dangled between her fingers, her hold on its delicate glass stem the only thing keeping it from tumbling hundreds of feet to the ground and crashing into a million fragments. She took a long sip, rolling the rich red liquid around on her tongue to luxuriate in the flavor–a symphony of dark cherry, oak, and just a trace of violet as the wine went down. 

The perfect accompaniment to tonight’s…viewing. 

In her head, she counted down the minutes, then the seconds. Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven…. Her anticipation built by the second, her heart rate unable to control its excitement. Settle down, she warned herself. No use celebrating too early. 

Boom. 

Right on time, an explosion. A cloud of thick black smoke billowed up a few miles away at the far end of the shipping district–the Wilkins lot, if she wasn’t mistaken. Blazing tongues of flame followed right on the heels of the smoke cloud, the fire rapidly catching onto the nearby containers and setting them ablaze. The fire only grew, though contained within its boundaries; it took only a minute or two before the mini inferno had devoured what looked to be the entire Wilkins lot and one or two lots nearby, its flames painting the night in flickers of orange and scarlet. 

Aelin took another pull of her wine and drank in the sight of the raging blaze, a small smirk curling the corner of her lips as she heard the sirens screaming toward the scene of the fire. Not that the fire department would find anything worth saving. 

She’d seen to that. 

She remained at the edge of the rooftop until her wine was gone and the fire in the shipping district had been tamed, reduced to curling plumes of smoke drifting away into the January night. The decadent alcohol left a lingering trace of smoke and embers in her mouth, which only made her smirk grow. She knew she’d picked the right wine. Then she stood up and turned away from the cityscape, satisfied with a job well done. Regarding the empty wineglass in her hand, she tilted her head, thinking for a moment. 

Then she lazily draped her arm over the balcony wall and let her fingers go limp. 

The wineglass plummeted down, down, down through the silent winter night and landed with a crash on the frozen cement sidewalk, splintering into a thousand crystal shards. Curiously, though, glass wasn’t the only thing that rose up as the wineglass crashed into the pavement. No, there was something else, visible only for barely half a second–not even enough time to believe it really happened. 

As Aelin’s wineglass shattered against the sidewalk, a small plume of smoke curled up from the impact point, disappearing a blink after it appeared. Almost as if the wineglass hadn’t just broken, but exploded. 

~

Rowan was pissed, and he didn’t give a shit how many of these incompetent PD idiots fell out of his way as he stormed into the police captain’s office wearing an expression that had made more than one seasoned soldier piss themselves. The captain was on the phone with his back turned to the door, arguing with someone on the other end of the line and getting more frustrated with each passing second. After a few minutes, he snapped a string of curses and slammed down the phone, turning to find Rowan standing in front of him, glowering. To his credit, he didn’t jump in terror, just took a long pull of his coffee and braced his hands flat on his desk. 

“What the hell do you want, Whitethorn?” 

“Sign this.” Rowan pushed a document across the desk. 

The police captain grumbled another foul curse. “I’m not signing shit I’ve never seen.” 

“If you want this goddamn investigation to get anywhere, Westfailure, you’ll sign the goddamn paper.” Rowan’s temper was already inches from snapping and it wasn’t even eight in the morning–he blamed it on last night’s god-fucking-damned explosion down in the warehouse district. He and the investigative team barely made it down to the scene before the press descended upon it like vultures. 

Police Captain Chaol Westfall glared at Rowan for a long minute, then snatched a pen and signed the paper. “If I hear one word, one damn word, about you torturing people, I swear I’ll have you booted off the investigation in disgrace.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Rowan scoffed. He turned and stalked out, heading to his own office in the police building. Since becoming part of the investigation, he’d been set up with quarters and an office on the floor assigned to the investigative team. Convenient, but he still preferred going home to the special forces barracks most nights. Now, though, he was seriously considering just moving into these quarters to be closer to everything. After last night’s disaster, he wanted to be as close as possible. 

If he’d been closer last night, maybe that fucking explosion wouldn’t have happened. 

He was still fuming over the absolute mess of a scene they’d all discovered when they arrived at the warehouse. The former warehouse, really, since there was nothing but a few scorched support beams left of the warehouses that had stood on the lot. It was owned–was still owned?–by a man called Wilkins, who shipped medications. And cocaine, if the rumors were true. A small part of Rowan hoped he would find some evidence of Wilkins’s less-than-legal dealings at the explosion scene, but there was nothing left. Literally. Nothing. Whatever had caused the explosion, whatever fuel or accelerant had been used, it had burned hot and swift, destroying everything in its path. 

It smacked of criminal behavior, almost enough for Rowan to suspect this Wilkins man had blown his warehouse up himself. Except for one thing–the utter lack of vehicle tracks. Usually, when a property owner destroyed his own property in an attempt to claim the insurance money, he cleared everything out via a big truck or some other vehicle, which left definite tracks. There were no tracks in the area surrounding the destroyed lot. None. 

Something about that little detail set off warning bells in Rowan’s mind. 

“Lieutenant?” 

“What?” Rowan turned to face the cop who’d addressed him. 

“Over here.” The dark-haired man led him over to one corner of the former warehouse, the most intact bit of the whole place. “We found a scrap of material caught on the pylon; it’s bagged as evidence. Thought you’d want to see it.” 

Rowan’s brows shot up. “You found fabric?”

“Uh, yes?” 

“Shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Any fabric that survived this goddamn inferno has got to be made of some seriously engineered shit. Give it to me for analysis, I’ll run it through the labs.” 

“But Lieutenant, you can’t just grab evidence–”

Rowan glared at the cop. “I can and I will. Where’s the fabric?” 

Reluctantly, the cop went over to the police truck and grabbed a single plastic bag out of the dark armored vehicle. “Here. Don’t keep it for too long, though.” 

“Unlike you idiots, I know how to run an investigation.” Rowan took the evidence bag, stashed it in the bag he wore over his shoulder, and returned to his sweep of the crime scene. 

The acrid tang of smoke hung thickly in the air, not dispersed by wind or weather or the team of investigators swarming around the site. Something about the smoke caught Rowan’s notice, so he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, focusing on the scent of the air he drew in. Odd. Typical fires left behind a charcoal-scented kind of smoke, mixed with the odors of whatever had burnt up in the flames. This one had that charcoal tinge, but also something else, something chemical, but not something Rowan immediately recognized–not kerosene, lighter fluid, gasoline, or any common accelerant. 

He shouldn’t be surprised. It was clear to anyone with half a brain that they weren’t dealing with a common incident. Or a common perpetrator. 

When his brain kept coming up blank, Rowan moved on from the smoke scent, tucking the idea away under “ask the lab later.” He finished his walkthrough of the scene and decided to leave the rest of the evidence collection to the police, preferring the quiet of his office to think about…things. Things like just who the hell could have not only emptied out the warehouse without leaving tracks, but also been able to set up an explosion so powerful it burned a steel-beam building down to nearly nothing. And to go completely fucking undetected, which was still the most baffling part. He, Rowan Whitethorn, had over a decade of experience in solving apparently impossible crimes–both as a special forces trainee and a member of the service–and he kept coming up blank. 

This explosion had to be connected, somehow, to the murders, which he firmly believed were connected to Galathynius. It had to be. Call him crazy, call him a crack theorist, but he trusted his senses. Mostly. Right now, he trusted his senses enough to walk into his office, unlock the file drawer, pull out an ugly green manila folder full of random papers, and sift through the stack until he found the one handwritten sheet he wanted. It was a single page of standard, college-ruled notebook paper with a list of names, places, and dates scrawled in his own blocky handwriting. Grabbing a pen, he added the details of the explosion: 27th/28th January, Wilkins lot in the warehouse district, own work? Galathynius? He left the questions there because he wasn’t sure. 

A quick internet search revealed that the owner of the destroyed lots was named Cairn, Cairn Wilkins, a businessman whose company dealt mostly in pharmaceuticals. The name sounded familiar, and it took all of ten seconds for Rowan to connect the dots. This Wilkins was most likely the same Cairn responsible for the most recent murders, the sloppy ones. The Wilkins company imported a significant percentage of both over-the-counter and prescription drugs, and Cairn apparently had standing delivery contracts with over half the pharmacies in Orynth. Perfect cover for a drug trafficker! screamed the investigative voice inside Rowan’s head. 

He filed that observation away for later. 

Grabbing his phone, Rowan pulled up the contact called “Swabs” and hit the call button. The guy on the other end picked up after eight rings. 

“What.” 

“Well hello to you too, Swabs. No cheerful greeting for your old buddy?” 

“Fuck off, tattoo boy,” laughed the scientist. “Hi. Good morning. What the hell do you need?” 

“I’ve got a very interesting little piece of evidence I picked up this morning that I need you to analyze for me. Preferably soon. Fuckin’ PD’s breathing down my neck about every little thing I send over to your lab.” 

“Course they are. Alright, fine, bring it over and I’ll have test results for you in five, six days.” 

“Cut the bullshit, Swabs, I’ve worked with you for too fuckin’ long to believe it actually takes five days for the tests to come back.” While he normally joked and laughed with his forensic scientist colleague, Rowan was not in a joking mood that day. 

“Two to three days. No faster unless you want shit results.” 

“Good. See you in about half an hour.” Rowan hung up, grabbed his bag, and headed out to the garage, striding towards the black SUV he favored. It was a fairly standard police-type vehicle with tinted windows and armored sides, and with the silver Orynth PD logo on the door, nobody would question his driving or his urgency. 

~

It took him exactly twenty-five minutes to get to the lab. Favoring discretion, Rowan had always preferred to use this lab rather than the one attached to the police department–furthermore, this was an independent lab, which meant that none of the scientists asked questions when the Terrasen Special Forces showed up with another specimen for analysis. He parked, jumped out of the SUV, and instantly regretted not putting on a warmer jacket. Fuck, winter in Orynth was vicious. 

“Y’know, parkas exist for a reason,” drawled someone’s voice from inside the lab as Rowan walked through the first set of doors. 

“Piss off, Swabs.” 

“Oh calm down, tattoo boy. Where’s this evidence of yours?” 

“Here.” Rowan withdrew the plastic sample bag and handed it over. “And quit calling me that, Ashryver.” 

Aedion Ashryver chuckled and accepted the evidence bag. “Never.” He and Rowan had been classmates in high school and university, and they’d even been in the same class when they both entered the special forces training program. However, Aedion chose to go down the forensics route after the first year of training, preferring the organization of the lab to the chaos of soldier life. He’d remained a close colleague of Rowan’s throughout the years, and as Rowan went on more missions, Aedion received more and more fascinating little specimens for analysis. Aedion knew more about the murder investigation than anyone besides Rowan–he should, since he’d been analyzing all the little scraps Rowan discovered on the crime scenes. 

“Text me when you’ve got results,” Rowan called, already heading back out into the snow. 

“Will do.” Aedion waved and disappeared into the lab, weaving through quiet, sterile hallways and passing busy lab spaces before he reached his personal lab. He tapped his ID against the reader, and the steel door rolled open, revealing a wide, brightly-lit, high-ceilinged space that hummed softly with activity. Waving to a few of his close colleagues, Aedion went straight for his station, washed his hands, snapped on a fresh pair of sterile latex gloves, sat down, and opened up the evidence bag. 

The sample Rowan had found at the explosion site was a small scrap of fabric, its edges rough and jagged like it had been torn off of something larger. From its size and shape, Aedion thought it was a scrap of clothing; it had probably caught on a sharp edge and torn off. He couldn’t figure out much just from looking with his own eyes, though, so he carefully picked up the fabric using a pair of tweezers and laid it underneath his microscope. Adjusting the lens and the focus, he zoomed in on the material. And swore. 

Holy fuck. This…fabric? He wasn’t even sure he could properly call it “fabric.” It had Aelin’s name and brilliant engineering written all over it. Fuck, fuck, and double fuck. What was he supposed to tell Rowan? Because…well, close friendship was one thing. Blood relationships were entirely another. 

And Aedion Ashryver had sworn many, many years ago to protect Aelin Ashryver Galathynius at all costs. Even if it meant directing others away from her crimes.

~

Three knocks on the apartment’s front door jerked Aelin from her position sprawled on the shitty couch, half asleep. She grumbled a string of curses as she stalked over to the door and shot a glare through the keyhole. Nobody. Not that she really expected to see anyone–criminals were too smart to stay in direct sight of other, worse criminals. So she unlocked the door, pulled it open about half an inch, and stepped aside. The crappy door banged open not two seconds later, shaking on its hinges with the force of the push. 

“God, it’s a shit apartment, but what’d that poor door do to you–fuck!” Aelin shook herself. “Still not used to seeing you in that getup.” 

“Fuckin’ cold,” grunted the man who’d just barged into her apartment. Of course, it was the crappy one near the shipping district, not her actual home. He pulled off his dark blue wool hat, shaking a layer of snowflakes onto the creaky wooden floor, and unzipped his jacket. The unmistakable navy blue uniform of the Orynth Police Department clung to his body, the small metal bar over his left breast pocket giving his name and rank. 

Cpt. Westfall.

“Shit,” the man groaned, blinking rapidly. “Where’s the bathroom, boss? Got snow in the goddamn contacts.” 

“Down the hall,” Aelin returned. “Make it quick and don’t even think about using my good shit, Allsbrook.” 

Ren Allsbrook flashed a crooked half-grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it, boss. I like my balls right where they are.” 

Aelin poured herself another glass of wine, poured a small measure of bourbon into a second glass, and settled herself back on the couch, both drinks in front of her. It was only a couple of minutes before Ren emerged from the bathroom, his formerly brown eyes now hazel, carrying a contact lens case in one hand. 

“Much better,” he sighed. 

“Sit.” Aelin gestured to the other end of the couch. “Have a drink.” 

Ren sat and slowly accepted the bourbon. “You didn’t poison it, did you?” 

“Would I tell you if I had?” Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re not that stupid, Allsbrook, and neither am I. Have a drink. Update me. I don’t have all night.” 

“Sure thing, boss.” He took a sip. “Well, I’m in. It wasn’t even that hard to infiltrate the place–soon as I had this here name and badge, I could go wherever the hell I wanted and nobody asked questions. Pretty soft for an organization that’s supposedly one of the best.” He snorted. “As far as anyone knows, I’m Captain Chaol Westfall, fearless and intrepid head of the investigation into the Orynth Assassinations.” 

“So that’s what they’re calling it,” she mused. “Not very creative. Then again, why should I expect creativity from a pack of idiots who can’t find a shred of hard evidence?” 

“About that.” Ren threw back the remainder of the bourbon. “This special forces officer that’s on the team? He has hard evidence. A fair bit of it, if I believe what he tells me. Every time I ask to see it, though, he deflects–something about going through the lab for analysis.”

“Interesting,” Aelin mused. “Have you seen any evidence?” 

“Oh yeah, there���s definitely some.” He cleared his throat. “Little tiny bits and pieces–ashes, a sample of fabric here and there, a little bit of accelerant, photos of the crime scenes, and the bodies. The bodies are the best evidence we currently have, but the morgue can’t give us anything more than the cause of death and the state of the body leading up to its death.”

“You sounded just like a policeman there, Allsbrook.” 

“I do pride myself on getting into character,” he returned dryly, pretending to bow. 

Aelin snickered. Ren Allsbrook was a notorious spy, well known in the criminal underworld for his uncanny ability to completely assume every disguise he donned. Becoming Chaol Westfall was just another role to him, except that he had a disguise like nothing he’d ever worn. Aelin’s SecondSkin tech was more than a disguise; it was a nearly foolproof way to become someone else entirely. 

“Character or not, you’re doing alright. I suppose I’ll let you stay alive for another week or so, but we’ll see what you bring to your next report.” She drained her wine. “Dismissed.” 

“Right.” Ren stood up and went quickly into the bathroom to replace his contact lenses. He was Chaol Westfall when he re-emerged, down to the fingerprints. That was another little perk of the tech–the fingerprints. Since Westfall was a member of Orynth PD, his fingerprints were on file, so it had been child’s play for Ren to slip into the file archives, pull the prints, and get them to Aelin for copying onto the SecondSkin. “See you, boss.” 

“Careful of the ice, Westfall.” She unlocked her door and let him back out, throwing him a little nod as he walked off. 

Then she locked the door, bundled herself into her winter jacket, gloves, scarf, hat, and boots, climbed through the window, swiftly descended down the rickety fire escape, and strode down the alley, just another shadow–albeit a lethal one–disappearing into the arctic January night.

~~~

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[xxkirbyloverxx]

I ordered: New shoes (vegan puma's, finding nice shoes when ur difficult abt shoes & vegan is harddddd, i'm fine with second hand leather but ive been into these pretty specific black sneakers lately (I found a pair of old skool air forces at waterloo & ive been wearing them literallly all the time so i need another pair of lowkey black shoes) and finding the right ones at a thrift store is impossible)(i tried)

one of those mini bluetooth thermal sticker printers (+ a tenpack of replacement sticker paper rolls, one of my friends got one as a present and been printing a shit ton of my pics for me everytime we see eachother but i feel kinda mooch-y about it and i think it would be an extremely cool party trick to print peoples tags/pieces/faces and give them the sticker. its like a cheap polaroid!!!! and u can stick the result everywhere!!!!

a non plastic kettle and a new toaster (i think either a mouse peed in the toaster or something died in there but i cleaned the whole breakfast/spices nook and the only thing still being stinky was the toaster) (also they had matching kettles and i think we deserve a new one (they're green and blue but in like a gradient from grass green to slightly blue-ish green and nice dark blue to seafoam which looks great)

and then somewhere this week my dress will arrive!!!!!!!

the shoes will get here today which is really excitinggggggggg

[dollsonmain]

More notes to self:

Sweet Steps Ballerina

For searching purposes, choose between Loving Families and Loving Family. Adjust all to match.

Same for Sweetheart Sister and Sweetheart Sisters.

I need more consistency in my file names across folders.

-

I have a handful of salon money and have just as much cost of stuff sitting in my Amazon shopping cart. Not sure if it's really worth it to spend that money on the salon, though.

It WILL be worth it if I start selling regularly again. I'm not sure I actually enjoy that. I enjoy shopping, buying, receiving, and fixing. Not the photography, editing, compiling, listing, packing, shipping, etc.

Other things I would like to have for the salon are, again, a laptop. I realized I can carry my pony pics between laptop and PC on a thumb drive that I'm already using as a backup. Laptop is many dollars, though. Even a cheap one. As much as I've earned this year...

Also that thermal printer I was considering. Laptop would help with that, too, because then I could wrap and print and pack everything all in one place.

I need to sit and think about whether a laptop and printer would serve me better right now, or the faucet modification, storage, and organization things I'm looking at.

I think storage and organization, then faucet mod, then laptop. I've managed so far with keeping my files on my PC upstairs and printing labels from here. Mostly. Sometimes I do have to run up and down a few times to be sure I'm packing the right ponies in a combined order.

-

There's a huge box of doll parts on feeBay right now with a $0.99 bid. I hope they don't back out. I'd like those parts gone but a pile of broken bodies and floating heads isn't donateable. I decided I won't end up using them and they're just taking up space.

-

I don't like how feedback rolls off your account on eBay, now. I've sold THOUSANDS of items and received 1 negative because someone was impatient, but my feedback count is only 270-ish.

-

Anyway, That Guy turned off GoW and went upstairs so I'm able to work on IDing ponies, but I have too much stuff running through my head at all once and am having a hell of a time focusing. I keep typing the wrong name all together, or transposing letters, or typing before when I mean after, etc. It's frustrating. I'll be happy when it's all done, though.

Wow I have cleaned a LOT of ponies...

[celinecooperjones]

Ok, for the jopper requests, maybe something where Joyce bandages his wounds? Like they get back to the motel in Alaska and she fixes him up. (it would be cool if it turned into something spicy too ;)

I loved this idea, I hope you enjoy anon! Thank you for the request :)

(Also posted on Ao3!)

The motel is ugly but comfortable; a run-down little thing that’s been filled with extra warm blankets, toiletries, and new clothes by Stinson and her agents. 

The thought of wearing something other than his prison jumpsuit or the (now horridly dirty) clothing he had found in Yuri’s smuggle bunker, damn near makes him cry. 

“Oh good, they have a first aid kit.” Joyce notes, rooting around under the bathroom sink and pulling out the object. “Why don’t you take a shower and get yourself cleaned up, and afterwards I’ll patch up your arm as best I can.” 

“You sure you don’t want to get in there first? It’s been a while since I had a proper shower, I might be a while and you shouldn’t have to have a cold shower. Not in this weather.” 

Joyce purses her lips in thought. “I’ll just take a shower in my room,” She decides. “At least then the room won’t be a complete waste.” Hopper smiles. 

Stinson had set them up with 4 rooms, one for all of them, but he had shared a look with Joyce that told him exactly what he was thinking; there’s no way they’re sleeping apart tonight. 

“Just as long as you come back when you’re done,” Hopper tells her, a silly grin on his face. 

Joyce raises an eyebrow at him. “You know I will,” she lifts up on her tip-toes and pecks a kiss to his stubbly cheek. “Take all the time you need in there, I’ll be here when you get out.” 

She’s grateful for the moment alone when she steps into her own bathroom. It’s not that she wants to be away from Hopper, but after the events of the day (and the fact that she’s covered from head to toe in filth) she’s eager to stand under the steaming stream of water and let it drown away her aches and pains and every anxious thought in her mind. 

She knows Hopper is safe in his room, she had even locked the door behind her to make sure of that fact, and there’s no need to worry about him like she knows she would have had he been outside the bathroom waiting for her. 

She scrubs at her creamy skin with the cheap hotel soap until it’s fresh and pink, every ounce of blood and dirt washed away down the drain. And even after she’s finished cleaning off she stays for a moment, savouring the warmth after the bitter cold of Russia’s winter. 

There’s a pair of pyjamas waiting for her on the dresser, along with an outfit for the next day, and she slips into the comfortable thermal, rolling the waist of the pants to keep from tripping over the too-long fabric. 

When she slips back into Hopper’s room, the shower is still running and his clothes are in a wrinkled lump by the door. 

She picks them up and folds them neatly (mostly so she has something to do with her anxious hands) and then sets them on the dresser. 

Out of curiosity she picks up the clothing left for him, admiring the black flannel and blue jeans, letting her mind briefly drift to how good she’s sure he’ll look in them. 

Then the water is shutting off and the room suddenly feels much too quiet. Joyce sits straighter on the bed as she waits for him, rooting through the first aid kit. 

Steam wafts into the room as soon as Hopper opens the bathroom door; the scent of bar soap and mint toothpaste a heady aroma that makes Joyce feel dizzy (though it could also be due to a very wet, very naked Hopper standing in front of her in nothing but his boxers.) 

“I uh was gonna put on clothes but there’s some marks on my back and shoulders that should probably get looked at. If you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” Joyce replies, swallowing thickly. “Come here.” 

Hopper sits down on the edge of the bed while Joyce sits up on her knees, the height difference still stark between them. 

“This might sting a little,” She tells him as she dampens a cotton pad with antiseptic. He hisses as soon as it touches his back, which (thankfully), is mostly scarred over now. “Sorry.” She winces at the sound he makes and dabs gently at his skin. 

“It’s alright, just a little cold.” He lies. 

Joyce’s throat feels like it tightens as she stares at his battered torso. “I can’t… God, Hop.” She whimpers, her hand falling away. 

He turns, his face concerned at the tone of her voice. “They don’t hurt anymore,” He promises. “You saved me from them.” 

“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” Joyce tells him sternly. “If I had just looked over, walked further in, they wouldn’t have gotten to you.” 

“You can’t blame yourself, Joy. It’s a damn miracle I made it out of that alive, it looked pretty hopeless.” 

“Yeah, but-“ 

Hopper shushes her, turning around fully to grasp her face in his hands. “No buts, I’m here now, that’s what matters.” He strokes a wet strand of hair out of her eyes and smiles softly at her.

She swallows hard at the movement and awkwardly shifts her eyes to the wound on his arm. “Does it hurt?” She asks him, effectively changing the conversation. 

“Only a little bit. I tried to clean it up a bit in the shower.” He stretches his arm out for her and her touch is so gentle he could cry. 

She carefully cleans the wound before wrapping his forearm in clean gauze. “How’s that?” She asks him. “Too tight?” 

He flexes his fingers and lifts his arm, testing his movements. “Feels good.” He confirms, dropping his hand back down to rest across her lap, it makes her stomach flutter and her cheeks flush. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, you Joyce.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him, her eyes soft. “You can always show me.” 

The suggestion makes him do a double take. Part of him wondered if Joyce’s interest had been a heat of the moment thing. But here they are, safe and sound and she’s still looking at him like she wants to do filthy things to him. 

He takes the bait and leans in to kiss her, softly at first, testing the waters. Joyce parts her lips with a pleasant hum, allowing his tongue to slip in and play with her own. 

His arm shifts from her lap to wrap around her waist, tugging her towards him. She seems to catch on and straddles his hips, pressing herself impossibly closer to him as she revels in his taste. 

“Should we unplug the phone?” Hopper murmurs against her lips. “Just in case?” 

Joyce laughs though the idea is tempting. “Just take me to bed, Hop.” 

[rederiswrites]

Bare-bones beginning lampworking kit:

[I wrote this up for classes but thought my followers might appreciate it as well]

Hothead torch–specifically a Hothead, which is designed for lampworking. A plumbing torch, etc, will not work. You also need an angle bracket, hose clamp, and c-clamp to safely secure the torch to your working surface. These things should be provided in a hothead kit.

Flame-resistant work surface. Even a cheap cookie sheet in front of your torch is better than nothing and will give some peace of mind.

Fuel. Hotheads are designed to take MAP/Pro fuel canisters, but can be adapted to take bulk fuels as well

Something to slow cooling so that beads don’t break–you can use vermiculite, which is cheap and available, but fiber blanket and thermal beads are readily obtainable online. If you ever wish to sell your beads, you will need to upgrade to an annealing kiln.

Didymium safety glasses protect your eyes and greatly reduce the sodium flare coming off the heated glass, thus allowing you to see your work more clearly. 

Lighter. People use sparkers, matches, cigarette lighters, grill lighters, etc.

Marver–basic shaping tool. Graphite marvers are nice, but even a putty knife will do at first. To avoid confusion, note that any tool used to shape hot glass can be called a marver. What you need is something with a broad flat surface for rolling and pressing and crisp edges for basic shaping.

Vice grips or bench vise to hold the mandrels while you pull the beads off. 

Mandrels. These are the metal rods you wrap the bead around. Smaller sizes create a hole size closer to that of most commercial beads, but larger sizes are less likely to burn up in the flame or bend while you are removing the beads.

Bead release. This is the mixture of clay and other ingredients that you dip your mandrel in so that you can later pull the bead off. 

Tool rest. Anything you can use to securely keep the hot end of your tools and glass off your work surface. I have used bent pieces of metal with holes punched to create divots to hold the glass/tools in place, and I have made tool rests out of cut and bent hardware cloth.

Tweezers or needle nosed pliers. Used for shaping, pinching excess glass off, applying decorative elements like murrine, and pulling stringers. The expensive tungsten-tipped ones are much nicer, but you can use most anything. 

Glass. Lampworkers generally use glass with a CoE (coefficient of expansion) of 104, also known as “soft glass”. You must always use the same CoE glass within a piece, or the different rates of expansion and contraction will cause the piece to break. Effetre is affordable and reliable glass, and a great place to start. Creation is Messy brand glass comes in all sorts of fun colors and I rarely have compatibility or working problems, but it’s not quite as reliable as Effetre. Other brands such as Laucha and Double Helix sell wonderful glass, but considerably more expensive. Devardi is cheap, but very poor quality. I think beginners should avoid it.

There are many, many more tools you can buy, but these items will allow you to safely make wonderful beads. Our ancestors did amazing things with less.

Sources: 

Arrow Springs makes and supplies excellent tools.

Mountain Glass is a retailer of a wide variety of glass, tools, and supplies, and I’ve had nothing but good experiences with them for many years. 

Frantz Art Glass is also a retailer of glass, tools, and supplies and often has a slightly different selection from Mountain.

There are many other excellent makers and sellers of tools, but these will get you started. Do check to see if you have a local glass shop, which will probably be focused on stained glass and fusing, but may also carry some lampworking supplies.

Price estimate: 

Hothead: $45

Mounting supplies: hose clamp $3, angle bracket $4.48, C clamp ~$11

Didymium glasses: ~$80

Marver: basic graphite paddle marver $52

Vice grips: $15

Fiber blanket: $30

Mandrels: 20x 3/32” mandrels, $12.50

Bead release: 8 oz Fosterfire bead release $14

Tool rest: $7.75 or make your own

Tweezers/pliers: $4.50 or use what you have

Glass: Effetre top 20 starter pack $20

    Total: 299.23

Prices are taken from the Mountain Glass and Lowes websites ca. July 2022. I have not included fuel because it is a commodity and thus subject to price fluctuations. Currently Map/Pro canisters are experiencing a shortage, and available for between $14 and $20.

Mountain Glass also sells a kit containing most of these things for $200, which may well be a savings.

It should be understood, though, that fuel and glass will be significant ongoing expenses, and that upgrading to an oxygen/fuel torch and buying an annealing furnace will be large expenses. This is not the cheapest hobby and I think it does beginners a disservice to ignore that.

[travelingfevah]

https://OverseaTraveling.com - Here are the top 10 best places in New Zealand. Okawa, Banks Peninsula: Nestled within New Zealand's stunning Banks Peninsula, Okawa beckons with its rugged coastlines, lush hillsides, and rich cultural heritage. Discover secluded beaches, historic Maori sites, and breathtaking viewpoints in this serene coastal haven. Kaikoura: Known for its abundant marine life and dramatic coastal scenery, Kaikoura is a must-visit destination for nature enthusiasts. Embark on whale watching excursions, swim with dolphins, and feast on fresh seafood against a backdrop of majestic mountains and sparkling seas. Abel Tasman National Park: Experience the beauty of New Zealand's golden coastline at Abel Tasman National Park. Hike along pristine trails, kayak through turquoise waters, and relax on secluded beaches framed by lush native bush, making it a paradise for outdoor adventurers. Wellington: New Zealand's vibrant capital city, Wellington, offers a unique blend of urban sophistication and natural beauty. Explore eclectic neighborhoods, indulge in world-class cuisine, and soak up panoramic views from Mount Victoria in this cultural hub nestled between harbor and hills. Hawke's Bay: Renowned for its award-winning wineries, Hawke's Bay is a haven for food and wine connoisseurs. Sample exquisite vintages, dine on gourmet cuisine, and explore Art Deco architecture against the backdrop of rolling vineyards and rugged coastline. Tongariro National Park: Home to three towering volcanoes, Tongariro National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage site and a playground for outdoor enthusiasts. Hike the iconic Tongariro Alpine Crossing, ski down volcanic slopes, and soak in natural hot springs amid breathtaking alpine landscapes. Coromandel Peninsula: A paradise of pristine beaches, lush forests, and natural hot springs, the Coromandel Peninsula captivates with its unspoiled beauty. Discover hidden coves, hike through ancient kauri forests, and dig your own thermal spa on Cathedral Cove's picturesque shores. Bay of Islands: Okianga Harbor**: Immerse yourself in New Zealand's rich history and natural splendor at the Bay of Islands. Explore historic sites such as Waitangi Treaty Grounds, cruise through scenic islands, and snorkel in crystal-clear waters teeming with marine life in this idyllic marine playground. Waitangi: Step into the heart of New Zealand's history at Waitangi, where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed in 1840, forging a partnership between Maori and the British Crown. Explore beautifully landscaped grounds, immersive cultural experiences, and poignant monuments honoring the nation's heritage. Rotorua: Known for its geothermal wonders and Maori culture, Rotorua offers a unique blend of adventure and relaxation. Experience the power of bubbling mud pools, erupting geysers, and rejuvenating hot springs, and immerse yourself in Maori traditions through cultural performances and village visits. Thanks for watching, don't forget to subscribe and hit the bell to stay updated when we're putting out new content for you. You can download your FREE Guide: "The Budget Traveler's Handbook" and get cheap flights, cheap hotels, cheap destinations, cheap car rentals, cheap traveler insurance at: https://TravelingFevah.com

[taperwolf]

The other day we had to return a gift to Amazon. The gift receipt was in the package, so generating the return went fine, but when I went to print the return label, the inkjet printer that had been working reasonably well for the last few years decided to start just plain eating the paper. I have a giant old laser printer, but it both needs a new drum and is in storage, so that wasn't an option. Obviously, I could take the file to be printed at FedEx or something, but that seemed excessive.

But I do have a stupid little cheap thermal printer.

These guys are dirt cheap and act like it; they connect to a specific phone app over Bluetooth and print black dots on rolls of special chemical-treated paper; anything you print has a fixed dimension of 2¼" wide. Keep the final print away from heat or direct sunlight, because those will turn the rest of the paper black too! I've mostly used it to print out comics and manga panels.

But by cropping the return label image down far enough, the barcode got large and legible enough that I could tape it to the package and scan it in at the return location. So hurrah for expedients.

[torosteelbuilding]

How To Insulate A Metal Building

To insulate a metal building, you need to choose the right type of insulation material and method that suits your needs and budget. There are three common types of insulation for metal buildings: foil bubble insulation, spray foam insulation, and batt and roll insulation. Each type has its own advantages and disadvantages, depending on the size, design, location, and purpose of your metal building.

Foil bubble insulation is a relatively cheap and easy option that consists of a layer of air bubbles sandwiched between two layers of reflective foil. It can reflect heat and keep your metal building cool in the summer, but it has a low R-value (a measure of thermal resistance) and may not provide enough insulation in colder climates. You can install foil bubble insulation by attaching it to the metal studs or purlins with nails or screws, leaving a small gap between the insulation and the metal panels for air circulation.

Spray foam insulation is a more expensive and complex option that involves spraying a liquid foam onto the metal walls and roof, where it expands and hardens into a solid layer. It can provide a high R-value and a tight seal against air and moisture, but it requires special equipment and expertise to apply. You can install spray foam insulation by using a spray gun and following the manufacturer's instructions.

Batt and roll insulation is a traditional and versatile option that consists of rolls or batts of fiberglass, mineral wool, or other materials that are placed between the metal studs or purlins. It can provide a moderate R-value and sound absorption, but it may sag or compress over time and lose its effectiveness. You can install batt and roll insulation by cutting it to fit the spaces between the metal frames and securing it with staples, wires, or straps. You can learn more about batt and roll insulation from this source https://www.torosteelbuildings.com/blog/how-to-insulate-a-steel-building/.

These are some of the ways to insulate a metal building. You can also consult a professional contractor or an insulation expert to help you decide the best option for your metal building. I hope this information helps you to insulate your metal building. If you have any other questions, please feel free to chat with me.

[unitedinsulation]

【UET】Cheap Price Thermal Insulation Glass Wool With Aluminum Foil Cheap Price Thermal Insulation Material Fiberglass Glass Wool Insulation Roll Blanket Felt With Aluminum Foil - Buy Fiber Glass Wool Blanket For Oven Metal Building Roofing Thermal Insulation Glass Wool Blanket Roll Felt

[crowcryptid]

how do you know which gpus are better? it's okay if you don't want to answer

So when it comes to gpus, ignore the number at the start. Think of it like the generation of card, not related to the performance. For example: 3080 vs a 4060. You would expect the 4060 to be better, it’s not. The number at the end is what matters. A 4060 is the lowest end card in the 40 series. A 3080 is the mid-high range in the 30 series. The same applies to AMDs cards. The 6800 xt > 7700 xt despite the 7700 being brand new. The 6800 is a gen older, but it is a higher tier card as 800>700.

For both brands, having ti, xt, and xtx just means that’s a more upgraded version of the card. Ex: 4070 ti > 4070. This is kind of oversimplifying cause nvidia pulled some bullshit with the 4070 ti, but I’m not gonna get into that it’s not important lol. If you buy nvidia ur getting ripped off no matter what, it’s just how it is. I’ll get into that later. (Despite my harshness toward nvidia, I have no bias toward either. I’ve owned both. I have an nvidia card right now. Both have issues. Both also do what you want them to do.)

The best way to decide what you want would be to watch benchmark vids. Just ignore marketing bs and look at real performance. They typically will compare multiple cards at 1080, 2k, 4k running different games. This gives you a decent idea of what to expect.

Once you decide on a card, I also recommend you watch a vid that compares every model of that card. Never buy the founders edition cards unless you are getting it dirt cheap or somethin. Wait for the third party versions. Some will have better thermals, some will be quieter, some will be larger, etc. Also, if it matters to you, the aesthetic differences.

Pick whichever card fits your budget and matches the games you play. Also consider if you want to keep the same card for a long time or if you don’t mind selling your card and upgrading every 2-3 years.

If you want to keep it a while, get the better card, just don’t expect to run things at the highest settings 5 years from now. If you don’t care about running things on ultra settings and you just want a consistent experience on mid-high settings, get whichever card matches your monitor and sell it when the performance isn’t to your standard anymore.

Now: if you are torn between AMD and Nvidia, here’s how to decide.

Are you just going to game and don’t have an insane monitor? AKA you don’t NEED to have over 60 fps with raytracing or over 60 fps in 4K or 244 hz whatever. You’re not an esports player, who the hell needs anything over 144? Then AMD will save you money. You should probably go AMD. UNLESS you play one specific game and AMD cards are known to not handle that one specific game well. The only example I can think of here is minecraft shaders. The performance on AMD isn’t as good. You may have heard horror stories about AMD drivers, I never experienced that*. Ultimately it’s up to you to decide if you want to risk buying a card and then needing to return it later cause you had issues. (*beside my mistaken assumption that a driver update killed my card a few months back. Nope the card just died. It just happened to die a day after updating it. Not sarcasm btw I did roll back to old ass drivers to check and the card was 100% dead. Even in when placed in a new system. Just bad timing)

Oh and incase it’s not obvious, new AMD cards do have raytracing they’re just nowhere near as good at is as Nvidia.

Do you want to game and say, do some 3D rendering, want the best of the best, are an esports player who wants 300 fps, want to stream, create content, or value raytracing? Then go Nvidia. AMD is not trying to be the best of the best, Nvidia is, and they succeeded. And because they know they’re stronger and have better performance for things like rendering, they charge insane amounts. Nvidia has the rep of being the safe option, but overpriced, like Apple lol.

Though to be fair, both sides have gotten greedy and the prices have become bad for both. Nvidia is just the worse of the two.

TLDR:

The number at the beginning of a gpu name is just the generation of card. The number at the end is the “tier” of the card. Ex: 3080 = 30 series, mid-high tier. 4060 = 40 series, lowest tier. For Nvidia The tiers are 60, 70, 80, 90. Low, mid, mid-high, highest. Anything with a “ti” at the end just means it’s an upgrade over the plain numbered version.

AMD follows a similar scheme but it’s a single number for the generation. Ex: 6800 xt = 6000 series, mid-high tier, xt stands for extreme. xtx is a step above xt (same concept at nvidia’s ti) AMD’s tiers are 600, 700, 800, 900, 950. Lowest, mid, mid-high, high, highest.

For the general gamer, AMD is going to be better 99% of the time unless, as I said, you want something specific like raytracing. Saves you a couple hundred bucks as well.

Nvidia is the jack of all trades card that can do anything and do it better than AMD can. If you do more than just game, like make videos, do 3D modeling, etc, then go with Nvidia. It’ll cost ya though.

You didn’t ask about CPUS but the story is the same for AMD vs Intel. AMD is the general cpu that will work for most people. Intel is better for work related things and typically costs more. Though this point in time is a rare moment where going Intel would be cheaper if you go with an older motherboard. I am not going to keep talking that’s not what you asked about I’ll shut up now lol

[cdt-toomi-vangrizzle]

Yellowstone with Friends

August 5 - 8

Julia, E-Dawg, and I hiked out from Targhee Pass into the woods of Idaho while Owen and Liam parked the car at our final destination and hitched back to Targhee. We all camped on an old road bed. Liam and Owen arrived just as a thunder storm rolled in, so I helped Liam frantically set up his tent in the rain. We all got into our tents to wait out the storm then emerged when things died down to eat dinner. We drank huckleberry beer that Owen hiked out as a treat.

The next morning (my birthday!), Owen slept in a little while the rest of us started getting ready. He’d been awake through the night with GI issues. when he finally did get up, he was not looking peppy. We had to walk 0.2 back to get water, and by the time Owen made it that far, he decided he was not up to a full day of hiking. It was his fourth day of not feeling well, and he determined it was time to go to urgent care. So Owen and Liam hiked ahead to hitch back to the car and go to the urgent care at Old Faithful. Julia, Evan, and I hiked out more slowly to wait for them to give us a ride. We did some research during a snack break and found some available backcountry permits in Yellowstone. We texted the others to get those permits so that we could still do some backpacking, spend time in the park, and take it a little easier on our mileage.

Liam picked us up and we drove back to Old Faithful to get Owen and assess the plan. As we drove into the park, it got colder, started raining, and even started snowing. None of us were feeling particularly excited about going out to hike and camp in that weather. Meanwhile, Owen was treated quickly at the clinic; they gave him a general antibiotic and told him to come back (because we would need to connect Big Sky to Old Faithful) if things didn’t improve. Then he watched Old Faithful erupt in the rain. A young kid watched, scoffed, “that’s it?!” then cruised off in his heelies. Frickin cool. Owen also took a historic tour of the Old Faithful Inn. When we all finally got together, I made the call that we would spring for a cheap hotel rather than hiking out into the storm with sick Owen. With that plan, we all ate an early dinner at the Old Faithful Inn. Of course, once we’d booked the motel, the weather cleared. So we toured the boardwalk around the geyser basin and watched Old Faithful erupt again. Back at the hotel, we hung our stuff up to dry. Owen bought 2 tubs of ice cream from the store for my birthday dessert. We slept well.

Monday we left the motel and headed out to start our hike through the park. We walked from a trailhead near Old Faithful and visited Lone Star Geyser, which we had all to ourselves. The weather turned out quite nice, and we had cruisy terrain. We ate lunch at the Shoshone Geyser Basin, near some particularly active geysers. It was crazy to have all those thermal features to ourselves after having been at the crowded boardwalk near Old Faithful. The park estimates that 98% of tourists in Yellowstone do not go further than a half mile from their cars. It was nice to be in the significantly less crowded backcountry. We slept at a nice site near Moose Creek.

The next day was fairly rainy. We had 2 river fords, which were less than ideal when we were already wet and cold. But they provided some fodder for future reminiscing. We made it to the road crossing by the afternoon. Liam and I hitched back to Old Faithful. I picked up a package from the post office, then we picked up the others. Instead of driving back to Big Sky, Owen and I opted to spend more time with the others by hiking north to connect our routes. So we all went to see Grand Prismatic on the boardwalks and then hiked a small hill to see it from a viewpoint. We got dinner in West Yellowstone - mediocre pizza - then Owen and I crashed at their reserved cabin. It was incredible to have seen Liam and Julia (and E-Dawg) for my birthday and as part of our CDT journey. I am grateful for such adventurous, silly, dedicated, and generous friends.

[texas-electricity-ratings]

Renewables Save the Texas Grid

Renewables Save the Texas Grid

How Green Energy Bailed Out Texas

Renewables bailed out Texas when thermal powerplants fainted from the heat. Though fossil fuel plants are still important now, find out how more green energy may cut future electric prices.

It’s great when the underdogs end up saving the day. And in Texas electricity news, the underdogs have been wind and solar energy lately. But renewables saved the Texas grid during the last week of June when demand soared to a record high. Hopefully, this taught leaders a good lesson on the reliability of green energy vs. fossil fuels. Here's what happened last week and how it may help to get you cheap electricity.

A Record-Breaking Heatwave

It’s so hot in Texas right now you could fry an egg on your driveway. To make matters worse, a climate change-exasperated heat dome looms over Mexico and South Texas. This causes extreme heat and humidity in the state.

And on June 27, the demand for electricity was at an all-time high. The 80,828 MW needed to power the air conditioning of 26 million Texans tested ERCOT’s reliability to its limits.

Putting All Faith in Fossil Fuels

When the electricity grid’s pushed near the limit, catastrophe can happen. In February 2021, a winter storm caused blackouts that resulted in the deaths of hundreds of Texans.

Since then, ERCOT and lawmakers made considerable steps to prevent blackouts like that. But, some may have bet on the wrong horse. 

So far, reliability has been maintained by dispatchable power sources. These are the natural gas, coal, and nuclear power plants the state has at its disposal that have been weatherized. ERCOT can turn these on and off when needed. And there's a major political push to invest more into these dispatchable sources, purely run on fossil fuel. However, these failed during the last week of June amid record-breaking demand.

Due to unplanned outages, 8,000 MW of natural gas capacity went offline. And the unexpected loss of 2,300 MW from coal power made the situation even worse.

Renewables to the Rescue

But thanks to wind, solar, and utility-scale batteries, the Texas energy supply went on as normal. The 31,000 MW generated by green sources powered 3.6 million Texan homes. Solar, in particular, rose to a challenge. On June 27th, solar power was generating at 62% of its installed capacity. Surprisingly, the very rays that make Texans turn the AC on are the same that saved the grid.

Green renewables help beat the heat with lower Electricity Prices.

Renewables Are The Future

The energy created from green sources isn’t just environmentally friendly. It’s also a lot cheap to make and gives customers low electricity prices. 

The Texas power grid will need to prepare for more high-demand days this summer. The estimated peak demand is currently at 82,739 MW. But, with the rising Texan population and global warming, this is just the start.

Luckily, there are plans to invest in more renewable dispatchable power in Texas too. Apart from wind and solar, these plans involve geothermal, hydro, and biomass. However, the roll-out of these is very slow without proper political support.

Shop a Green Plan in Texas

Historically, the price of electricity is always the highest when the demand is high. So, buying in the summer isn't ideal. But, having a fixed-rate plan is often still better than going month to month.

The best way you can support renewable energy is by getting a 100% green plan. They’re often cheaper too. Visit www.texaselectricityratings.com to find the best green deals for your home.

[basicgrayson]

So husband bought a used Switch Lite because he's going to need shoulder surgery soon, and we thought a nice light system would be good for his recovery for those days he'd rather stay in bed. It was super cheap because it's just a little beat up and was missing a joystick, and we figured I could just fix it without too much trouble. Come to find out it's the right joystick that needs fixing... just my luck lol. It was a bit daunting, but I took on the job anyway, and I'm happy to say I succeeded! I'm on a roll lol it was a lot less intimidating once I got the thing open, and it turned out to be easier than I thought it would be. Luckily I already had a new tube of thermal paste on hand.

So it being fixed and all, we started looking for a nice case to put it in, since we didn't care too much for the color. It's yellow, so we thought maybe a Pikachu case might be nice. We both like Pokemon, so it made sense. Then husband saw one and decided there was no way he could pass it up. It came in today:

He even got this carrying case to put it in:

I've created a monster lol it's so damn cute though, I love it! He's super happy with it and has already spent hours playing with it. I'm glad I was able to fix it :)

Side note, he's been talking about getting the Cosmic Heart Brooch as his very first tattoo. This man loves him some Sailor Moon!