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reasonsforhope · 2 years ago

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Humans are so cute. They think they can outsmart birds. They place nasty metal spikes on rooftops and ledges to prevent birds from nesting there.

It’s a classic human trick known in urban design as “evil architecture”: designing a place in a way that’s meant to deter others. Think of the city benches you see segmented by bars to stop homeless people sleeping there.

But birds are genius rebels. Not only are they undeterred by evil architecture, they actually use it to their advantage, according to a new Dutch study published in the journal Deinsea.

Crows and magpies, it turns out, are learning to rip strips of anti-bird spikes off of buildings and use them to build their nests. It’s an incredible addition to the growing body of evidence about the intelligence of birds, so wrongly maligned as stupid that “bird-brained” is still commonly used as an insult...

Magpies also use anti-bird spikes for their nests. In 2021, a hospital patient in Antwerp, Belgium, looked out the window and noticed a huge magpie’s nest in a tree in the courtyard. Biologist Auke-Florian Hiemstra of Leiden-based Naturalis Biodiversity Center, one of the study’s authors, went to collect the nest and found that it was made out of 50 meters of anti-bird strips, containing no fewer than 1,500 metal spikes.

Hiemstra describes the magpie nest as “an impregnable fortress.”

Pictured: A huge magpie nest made out of 1,500 metal spikes.

Magpies are known to build roofs over their nests to prevent other birds from stealing their eggs and young. Usually, they scrounge around in nature for thorny plants or spiky branches to form the roof. But city birds don’t need to search for the perfect branch — they can just use the anti-bird spikes that humans have so kindly put at their disposal.

“The magpies appear to be using the pins exactly the same way we do: to keep other birds away from their nest,” Hiemstra said.

Another urban magpie nest, this one from Scotland, really shows off the roof-building tactic:

Pictured: A nest from Scotland shows how urban magpies are using anti-bird spikes to construct a roof meant to protect their young and eggs from predators.

Birds had already been spotted using upward-pointing anti-bird spikes as foundations for nests. In 2016, the so-called Parkdale Pigeon became Twitter-famous for refusing to give up when humans removed her first nest and installed spikes on her chosen nesting site, the top of an LCD monitor on a subway platform in Melbourne. The avian architect rebelled and built an even better home there, using the spikes as a foundation to hold her nest more securely in place.

...Hiemstra’s study is the first to show that birds, adapting to city life, are learning to seek out and use our anti-bird spikes as their nesting material. Pretty badass, right?

The genius of birds — and other animals we underestimate

It’s a well-established fact that many bird species are highly intelligent. Members of the corvid family, which includes crows and magpies, are especially renowned for their smarts. Crows can solve complex puzzles, while magpies can pass the “mirror test” — the classic test that scientists use to determine if a species is self-aware.

Studies show that some birds have evolved cognitive skills similar to our own: They have amazing memories, remembering for months the thousands of different hiding places where they’ve stashed seeds, and they use their own experiences to predict the behavior of other birds, suggesting they’ve got some theory of mind.

And, as author Jennifer Ackerman details in The Genius of Birds, birds are brilliant at using tools. Black palm cockatoos use twigs as drumsticks, tapping out a beat on a tree trunk to get a female’s attention. Jays use sticks as spears to attack other birds...

Birds have also been known to use human tools to their advantage. When carrion crows want to crack a walnut, for example, they position the nut on a busy road, wait for a passing car to crush the shell, then swoop down to collect the nut and eat it. This behavior has been recorded several times in Japanese crows.

But what’s unique about Hiemstra’s study is that it shows birds using human tools, specifically designed to thwart birds’ plans, in order to thwart our plans instead. We humans try to keep birds away with spikes, and the birds — ingenious rebels that they are — retort: Thanks, humans!

-via Vox, July 26, 2023

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xoln04f1xo · 22 days ago

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Dark Fic

Oscar Piastri x Reader

WARNINGS: Emotional manipulation, obsessive behaviour, surveillance, kidnapping?, captivity, gaslighting, and psychological abuse, mentions of drugging

WC: 3.1k

Y/N POV

There was a time when you loved mornings.

They started slow with the smell of clean sheets and the low hum of the ocean behind double-glazed windows. When Monaco was still just a dream - when he was still just a boy with a bright future and a gentle voice - mornings meant croissants, cracked knuckles over sudoku, and sunlight kissing the side of his jaw. You used to trace it with your eyes. Memorize it.

Oscar.

At first, he was quiet in the way that made you curious. Still water, you told your best friend once. “But I don’t think he runs deep. I think he runs cold.” You were wrong. He wasn’t cold. He was calculating. But back then, it was easy to mistake that for control. Discipline. Precision.

The kind of man who measured his words like lap times.

Your first trip with him was to Melbourne - a Grand Prix weekend wrapped in jetlag and adrenaline. You stayed in a high-rise suite where everything smelled like leather and lemon cleaner. He let you wear one of his team hoodies, snapped a photo when you weren’t looking, and later posted it with a soft caption:

"My favourite part of the track isn't on it."

Thousands of likes. You remember how your phone exploded. Friends congratulating you, joking about marrying rich. But there was something in Oscar’s eyes when you laughed at the comments. Like a flicker. A shutter snapping closed.

“You like that attention?” he asked that night.

You thought he was teasing.

You kissed him on the shoulder. “It’s harmless.”

He didn’t smile.

Two weeks later, you noticed your DMs had been cleared. No more message requests. Even your best friend's old photos had disappeared from your tagged feed. You asked him, offhandedly, if he’d seen anything weird on your phone.

“Probably just a bug,” he said, eyes not leaving his screen. “iOS has been trash lately.”

You told yourself it didn’t matter. You weren’t hiding anything. Maybe it was good he cared enough to look. Most men didn't. Most men forgot anniversaries, birthdays, everything. Oscar remembered it all.

Even your dentist appointment.

He called you after it ended - before you even texted him. “So? Did it hurt?”

You laughed nervously. “You have my calendar notifications?”

A pause. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

It was easy to let it slide, because being with Oscar felt like being in a parallel world. Where everything was faster, brighter, but somehow… smaller. Your social circle narrowed. Nights out turned into quiet evenings in. Messages from friends were always “forgotten,” plans always postponed. You convinced yourself it was just the nature of dating someone famous.

He needed privacy. You were just protecting him.

Right?

The first time you noticed the lock on your apartment door had been changed without asking, Oscar handed you a new key before you could even open your mouth.

“Upgraded the security,” he said, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Don’t want anyone sneaking in.”

You stared at the old key in your palm.

“And you... didn’t think to tell me?”

He blinked, as if confused by your question. Then smiled. “Telling you now, aren’t I?”

It escalated slowly. The way thunder rolls in before a storm.

At first, he asked about your day. Then who you saw. Then why you saw them. Eventually, it became easier not to go anywhere. Easier to let him track your phone, check your DMs, read your texts.

“It’s not control,” he once said. “It’s trust. You wouldn’t hide anything if you weren’t doing anything wrong.”

And the worst part?

A small part of you agreed.

You’re not sure when exactly things changed.

Not really.

You just remember waking up one morning, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets, in an apartment you didn’t recognize - with windows that didn’t open, and doors that only locked from the outside.

Oscar was already dressed. Black t-shirt, watch glinting on his wrist. Calm as ever.

“Morning,” he said, placing a coffee by your bedside. “Welcome home.”

The coffee is your favourite kind - hazelnut roast, one sugar, oat milk - but it’s cold.

You sit up slowly, blanket falling from your shoulders, heart pounding before you know why. There’s a hum beneath your skin, like your body knows something your mind hasn’t caught up to yet. Your phone’s on the nightstand, but it’s face down. That’s not how you left it.

You glance at Oscar.

He’s standing by the window, looking out at the harbor with the sort of quiet intensity that used to feel elegant. Now, it feels like silence before a verdict.

“Where are we?” you ask.

He turns. Smiles. “Our place.”

You shake your head. “This isn’t your flat. It’s - this is… new. When did we come here?”

“Last night.”

You don’t remember last night.

You remember a conversation. You remember saying you needed space - not in an angry way, not even in a final way. Just clarity. Time. He had nodded, like he understood. Said he’d be patient. Said he’d take care of things in the meantime.

Apparently, this is what he meant.

“Oscar,” your voice cracks slightly, “I want to leave.”

He doesn’t react. Just tilts his head.

“You are home.”

The words land like weights.

You slide your feet to the floor, test the edge of the room. The door is shut. Not locked - not obviously - but something about the way he watches you makes you feel like a mouse eyeing the trap.

“Where are my keys?” you try. “My stuff?”

“It’s all here,” he says, like that solves everything. “You don’t need to worry about those things anymore.”

You stare at him.

His calmness is unbearable.

“Why would you do this?”

He finally turns to you, arms crossed. “Because you’re not thinking clearly. You say you want space, but you don’t mean it. Not really. You’re confused, and the world out there - it feeds on that confusion. I’m the only one who knows how to protect you from yourself.”

You blink. “That’s not protection. That’s prison.”

Oscar exhales through his nose. “You always say the most dramatic things when you’re overwhelmed.”

The first 48 hours blur.

You learn the apartment has no physical address. No working intercom. The windows are made of reinforced glass and don’t open - you try, of course. The locks on every external door have electronic access, fingerprint-only.

Yours doesn’t work.

You can move through the apartment freely. Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom. But that’s it.

No balcony.

No outside line.

He brings you meals. Watches you eat. Talks to you like nothing is wrong - asks about your sleep, offers to put on movies, gives you “little projects” to stay occupied. Once, he brings a jigsaw puzzle. A thousand pieces. You stare at the cover image for an hour before opening it.

It’s a photo of you two.

You don’t remember it being taken.

He gives you your phone back on the third day.

You stare at it, hesitant. “It’s been wiped.”

“No,” he says evenly, “it’s been cleaned.”

You open the messages. Every contact is gone except one.

Oscar 💖

Your heart races. “What did you do?”

“I backed up everything,” he says. “Sorted through the stuff that didn’t matter. Cleared the noise. It’s better this way. You only need one person.”

You almost scream. Instead, you speak through clenched teeth.

“You’re insane.”

He doesn’t flinch.

He walks to you, kneels in front of the couch, and looks you dead in the eyes.

“No,” he says. “I’m focused. And the world calls people like me insane because they can’t understand loyalty like this.”

So...insane... you thought

Later, when you’re alone, you test the bathroom for privacy.

There are no visible cameras. But you know better. You take a glass from the sink and hold it up to the walls, listening.

Nothing.

Still, when you whisper, you do it directly into the drain.

“If anyone can hear me… I need help.”

Every time he leaves, you check the door. Still locked.

The only other way out is the guest bathroom window - too narrow, but you measure it anyway. He notices the bruises on your arms the next morning.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, voice flat.

“You’re hurting me,” you whisper.

His eyes soften — not with guilt, but something worse. Pity.

“I’m saving you.”

You start to unravel differently after that. Less like breaking, more like… peeling. Each day strips away another layer of resistance. Not because you want to give in, but because you can’t afford to feel anymore. Emotions are too loud. Too risky.

So you fake it.

You let him read to you at night. Let him hold your hand. Let him tuck your hair behind your ear like nothing’s wrong.

You wait.

And watch.

Because the only way to escape is to make him think you never wanted to.

It happens on the eleventh day.

You stop counting them on purpose. Let time dissolve into quiet rituals - eat when he eats, smile when he smiles. Let him believe you’ve softened. Let him think the edges have dulled.

You start asking for things. Small, domestic, harmless.

A book here. A specific kind of tea there. Music.

He obliges, pleased. Always so pleased when you ask. It reinforces the idea that you're dependent. That he's essential. It’s exactly what he wants.

So you let him believe it.

But while he scrolls through his phone on the couch, you trace the layout of the apartment in your head. Memorize his routines. When he showers. When he charges his phone. When he paces on the balcony that only he can access.

He never locks the guest bathroom door from the inside.

You begin testing the window more aggressively now, bruising your shoulders, your ribs. It’s tight, but you can almost get through - if you turn sideways and push hard. It opens onto a sheer wall, no ledge. But there’s a drainage pipe, two meters to the left.

It’s stupid. It’s dangerous.

But it’s a way out.

The opportunity comes after midnight. You feign a migraine, lock the bathroom door, turn on the faucet. Let it run as cover.

You open the window slowly, silently.

Pull yourself up.

You don’t look down.

Your ribs scrape the frame. You stifle a cry. You’re halfway through when your shirt catches on the hinge. You panic and twist...

Then you hear the click.

The bathroom door opens behind you.

You don’t turn around.

“Don’t,” he says.

You freeze. His voice is calm. Flat. Not angry.

Worse.

“Come down,” he says. “You’ll fall.”

You stay still.

“I said...” There’s a pause. You hear him take a breath. “If you jump, I won’t catch you.”

That gets you. A tremble runs down your back.

He steps forward slowly, but not too close. He knows better than to spook you now.

“I built this place for us,” he says. “I picked the tiles in this bathroom because you told me once you liked the way sunlight reflects off pale green. You don’t remember that, do you?”

You say nothing.

“I remember everything,” he whispers.

Then, softly, so softly it nearly shatters you:

“You don’t want to die like this.”

You close your eyes.

And for one split second... you believe him.

You let yourself slide back down into the bathroom, knees hitting tile.

Oscar doesn’t say anything. He just kneels in front of you, wraps a blanket around your shoulders, and holds you.

As if you’re the one who broke something.

The next morning, the window is sealed.

Bolted. Painted over.

He brings you breakfast and says nothing about it.

But there’s a new camera in the hallway.

You notice it. He wants you to.

That night, he sits across from you at dinner. The mood is quiet, but not tense. Oscar carves into his food like nothing’s changed. Like you didn’t almost run. Like he didn’t have to lock you in tighter.

“You’re not ready,” he says, finally.

You keep your eyes down.

He sets his fork down carefully. His voice is gentle. Controlled.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

You blink. He waits.

Then he leans forward, elbows on the table, head tilted like he’s studying you.

“But now you’ve proven I can’t trust your judgment. You understand that, don’t you?”

You nod slowly.

Because what else can you do?

He shows you a box the next morning.

Inside it: a ring.

Simple. Silver. Understated.

Your heart nearly stops.

“We’re already something better than married,” he says. “But this is for you. To help you remember.”

You want to throw it at him.

Instead, you slide it on your finger.

You have to survive.

You can’t afford defiance.

Not yet.

Later that night, you lie awake in the bed you used to share with him. Now, he sleeps in the room next door. Says you need “space” again, like it’s a kindness.

There’s a sliver of light under the door.

You stare at the ceiling and begin counting again.

One day.

Two days.

Three.

There will be another chance.

You just have to wait.

You wait two weeks.

Fourteen days of smiling at the right moments, of wearing the ring, of letting him believe that you’ve settled. That his warped version of love is finally working.

Fourteen days of pretending to be his.

During that time, he returns small freedoms to you like tokens of trust. Your favourite playlist. A softer blanket. A journal - with every page numbered. You notice that. Just like you notice the faint scratch across the spine of the hallway camera. You hadn’t touched it.

Which means he had. Probably testing. Probably watching how often you look at it.

You look often.

You make him think you care about being watched.

So that when the real plan begins - he won’t see it coming.

The plan isn’t elegant. It isn’t clever.

It’s just human.

You make him believe he’s won.

That’s the real trick.

On the fourteenth night, you set the dinner table yourself.

You wear the softest thing you can find. You tell him he’s right. That you’re sorry for the fear. For the resistance. That maybe you did need this - time, safety, him.

You say it all with your hands flat on the table so he sees there’s nothing to hide.

He watches you with narrowed eyes at first.

Then he smiles.

It’s almost heart-breaking. Because for one moment, you see the boy he used to be - the one who quoted lap times and made you tea during late-night race weekends.

Then he takes your hand and says:

“I knew you'd come around. I always knew.”

You drug him that night.

Not with anything dramatic.

Just a slow dose. Benadryl dissolved in wine. Enough to pull him into something heavy. Enough to stall his reflexes. The glass trembles in your hand as you pour it. You’re careful not to overdo it. You don’t want him unconscious - you want him slow.

He downs the wine with a quiet sigh and pulls you close on the couch. You feel his breath against your neck, the weight of his arm draped over your shoulders.

He falls asleep with his hand still tangled in your hair.

It takes everything not to scream.

You wait until his breathing shifts.

Then you move.

Softly. Quietly. Every step rehearsed a thousand times in your mind.

You retrieve the screwdriver hidden in the lining of the hallway lamp - taken apart and reassembled over a week of quiet hours while he thought you were “healing.”

You head to the security panel in the utility room. The one you spotted him using through a cracked door three days ago. The keypad glows. You enter the numbers.

6… 2… 7…

He uses racing numbers as codes. Always has. You try his F2 championship date next.

It works.

The front lock disengages with a dull thunk.

For the first time in weeks, you breathe like air matters.

You move to the door. It opens silently.

Beyond it... a hallway. No guards. No traps.

Just freedom.

You run.

You make it as far as the second-floor stairwell.

That’s when the lights go out.

And his voice returns...

Not angry. Not yelling.

Just steady.

“I thought we were past this.”

Your blood runs cold.

You turn - and he’s already there, barefoot, calm, breathing a little heavier than usual.

His eyes are glassy. He’s still groggy.

But he’s awake.

And the worst part?

He’s smiling.

“You waited so long,” he says. “I thought you really meant it this time.”

You back away, heart slamming against your ribs.

“I did mean it,” you whisper. “I meant to survive you.”

Oscar nods.

Then, like it's nothing: “I could let you go. You know that.”

You stare at him, hope flaring.

But he steps forward.

“I could… but I won’t.”

You fight him.

For the first time, really fight him.

Fingernails, elbows, teeth - anything to make him let go. He doesn’t expect it. You knock him back against the wall hard enough to hear the breath punch from his lungs.

You run again.

This time faster. Down the stairwell. Barefoot. You scream - once - just to hear your own voice echo in the real world. Just to know it still works.

The front lobby opens up like a dream.

You hit the last set of doors—and they’re open.

Unlocked.

You stumble into the street.

You’re in a quiet neighborhood.

Industrial. Empty.

But not far from the city. There are people.

And someone sees you.

The hospital room is white.

Clean.

Free.

You stare at the window for a long time before speaking to anyone. You tell the nurses your name. Tell the police your story. They listen. Some of them don’t believe you at first - who would? A Formula 1 driver, kidnapping a woman?

But they see the bruises.

They read the journal.

They watch the security footage pulled from hidden drives in Oscar’s apartment.

He never deletes anything.

Control, you realize, is its own undoing.

He’s arrested four days later.

Not publicly. Not yet.

The team releases a statement about “mental health leave” and “ongoing investigation.” The internet buzzes, but no one really knows. You don’t care.

You’re out.

One month later, you walk barefoot through a real field of grass and cry.

You feel the sun.

The actual sun.

You start to remember how to feel hungry. How to trust the time on a clock. How to look at a door and not measure how fast you could get through it.

You’re not healed.

Not yet.

But you’re you again.

And that’s enough.

For now.

A/N: Okay this one is like.. EXTREMELY fucked up i cant lie, but i hope you enjoyed it

Click here for more!

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enflixx · 1 month ago

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back at stanford - jake sim

summary: Jake visits California for Thanksgiving, hoping to reconnect, but he quickly feels like an outsider in your new life. Tensions rise as jealousy and distance threaten your relationship, leading to a painful break and Jake's return to Melbourne. Despite everything, Jake clings to the hope of a future together, unable to let go of the dreams you guys once shared.

note: this is a part 2 to letters from stanford, but could be read alone!

genre: angst

warning(s): none!

word count: 3189

Jake lay sprawled on his bed, the faint hum of the Melbourne cityscape just outside his window. His thumb lazily scrolled through his camera roll, but his mind wasn’t really there. His classes were fine nothing extraordinary. His roommates were loud, his friends were distant, and Melbourne felt smaller every day without you.

He paused on a screenshot, a familiar apartment listingl, the one with the wide kitchen and dusty morning light spilling in through the windows. He had saved it months ago, back when everything still felt possible. He stared at the photo for a long time, the weight of the silence in his room pressing down on him.

He missed you. More than he could put into words. It wasn't just the late-night phone calls or the way your laugh had a way of filling the room. It was the way you fit into his world so perfectly. And now you were across the world, living a life he wasn’t a part of.

His thumb hovered over the "delete" button, like if he deleted it, he could delete the ache in his chest.

Instead, he clicked out of the gallery and opened his browser. Typed in "flights from Melbourne to Los Angeles."

Maybe it was time. Maybe he needed to see you. Even just for a few days.

A few seconds later, he was texting you.

Jake [11:02]: thinking of flying out for thanksgiving. worth it?

You were walking back from class, the California sun streaking gold through the palm trees. Your tote bag was heavy with textbooks, and you were sipping an overpriced smoothie that Ni-Ki swore by. You read Jake’s message and stopped walking.

Your heart did a tiny somersault.

You[11:04]: yes.100%. i miss you so much.

And that was all it took. Twenty minutes later, Jake had a confirmation email sitting in his inbox.

The Melbourne airport smelled like coffee and exhaustion. Jake pulled his hoodie tighter around his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stared at the departures screen. He hated the empty feeling that came with airports. It wasn’t the same as when you were with him. It felt colder now, emptier.

His mind wandered back to when you had first left, when he stood in the same terminal, watching you disappear through security with a hollow feeling in his chest. You had promised to call as soon as you landed, but promises didn’t fill the silence. That was a truth he had learned the hard way.

He moved through check-in, grabbed his boarding pass, and shuffled to the security line. The usual sounds of the airport were distant, the buzz of announcements echoing in the background, but everything felt muted. He sighed as he stepped into line. The idea of returning to Los Angeles brought a flicker of hope, but the pit in his stomach refused to go away.

Once through security, he grabbed a seat near the gate, glancing at the board above him. His flight wasn’t for another hour. He leaned back, pulling out his phone. Without thinking, his fingers quickly typed out a message to you.

Jake: miss you. Can’t wait to see you soon.

He hit send, staring at the words for a moment before dropping his head back to the seat. He hated how much he missed you. Every second without you felt like a small eternity, but the idea of seeing you again, the real you, the you he had known so well made it worth it.

The minutes passed in a blur, and he found himself staring at the plane's gate, thinking about everything that had changed since you’d left. He couldn’t quite picture how you had adapted to this new life of yours, your friends, your classes, your new routines. He wondered if there was a version of you now that no longer needed him, that didn’t even remember what it was like before California had become your world.

He glanced at his phone again, waiting for your reply, but the thought of how little he knew about your life there made the ache in his chest deepen.

“Jake!”

You spotted him the second he emerged from the arrivals gate, your body breaking into a run. Your heart fluttered as you approached, and when you wrapped your arms around his torso, it felt like all the months apart fell away. He squeezed you back so tightly your feet left the ground.

“You smell like a plane,” you joked, muffled into his hoodie.

He laughed into your hair, his voice warm and familiar. “You smell like sunscreen and… is that coconut?”

“California does something to a girl,” you teased, pulling away and stepping back to look at him, smiling.

Before he could reply, a voice from behind you called out, "Yo! You're the Aussie boyfriend, right?"

You turned to see Ni-Ki grinning, walking over with a spring in his step. His curly hair bounced as he moved, and his wide smile made it clear he was just as excited about the reunion as you.

"That's me," Jake said, raising an eyebrow, clearly unsure of what to expect.

Ni-Ki offered him a fist bump, his energy infectious. “I’m Ni-Ki. Sorry if we’re late. We were just jamming out to ‘Teenage Dream’—you know, the usual.” He shot you a playful look, and you both laughed.

Jake blinked, still processing the introduction. "Uh, yeah. Jake," he said, offering a handshake, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of energy that was Ni-Ki.

You grinned and gestured toward the parking garage. “You’re driving, right?”

Ni-Ki tossed you the keys with a grin. “Actually, I’ve got it. You two relax.”

Ni-Ki slid into the driver’s seat and connected his phone to the aux cord. Soon enough, the car was filled with the unmistakable beat of a Katy Perry hit.

"Teenage dream," Ni-Ki sang along loudly, tapping the steering wheel in rhythm. “You remember this, right?”

You laughed and joined in, belting out the lyrics with him, the familiar song bringing back memories of simpler times. Jake, still adjusting to this new, fast-paced version of your life, sat quietly in the passenger seat, letting the wind whip through the car windows as the palm trees blurred by. He watched, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but there was a sinking feeling in his chest. You and Ni-Ki sounded like you had known each other forever. The ease with which you two laughed and sang along felt so natural, like you didn’t even need him.

He couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in this new world of yours.

“Does she always sing like this?” Jake asked, the quiet question directed at Ni-Ki.

Ni-Ki shrugged, unbothered. “Pretty much. She's got a killer voice, doesn’t she?”

You turned to Jake, eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “You’ll get used to it,” you said, smiling softly at him.

Jake half-smiled, his gaze returning to the road. "Yeah, I’m sure I will."

Scene: The Awkward Ride

The conversation started out easy enough, with Ni-Ki bringing up a topic he’d been dying to talk about.

“So, Jake, what’s your favorite show? You into, like, superhero stuff?”

Jake glanced at him. “Uh… not really. I don’t watch a lot of TV. Mostly sports or, you know, whatever’s on when I’m not studying.”

Ni-Ki tilted his head, clearly trying to gauge if Jake was joking. “Wait, so you don’t watch, like, any of the big stuff? No Marvel?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I’ve seen a few movies here and there, but not really my thing.”

There was an awkward pause. Ni-Ki shifted in the driver’s seat, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

You quickly stepped in. “Jake's more of a sports guy,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Oh right, basketball, yeah?” Ni-Ki asked. “How’s the season going? Are you guys winning?”

Jake hesitated. “We’re doing alright. Some tough games coming up, though.”

“You’re on the team at Melbourne, right? The university team?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Jake said, his tone polite but distant. He wasn’t used to talking about basketball with someone who didn’t know the team or the sport’s culture.

Another silence settled in, and Ni-Ki finally chuckled softly. “Well, anyway, welcome to LA. Tomorrow’s a pretty chill day—classes, lunch at the quad, study group in the afternoon. You’re welcome to tag along if you want.”

Jake glanced at you, surprised. “Yeah? I mean… if that’s cool with everyone.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “It’ll be good for you to see what life here’s like.”

Ni-Ki nodded. “Just don’t judge us for drinking way too much iced coffee and complaining about professors all day.”

Jake smiled, a bit more genuinely now. “Sounds like a plan.”

Still, as the music picked back up and conversation drifted between you and Ni-Ki again, Jake sat back in the seat. Watching. Listening. Trying to understand how he fit into this new version of your life.

The dorm room smelled faintly like vanilla and something floral. Jake dropped his duffel bag by the door and scanned the space slowly. It was brighter than he expected, lit by string lights tucked around the ceiling and sunlight pouring through a small window above your desk. The room felt lived-in and warm, with textbooks stacked in organized chaos and throw pillows in soft pastels arranged across the bed.

Then he saw it.

Photos of the two of you: a polaroid at the beach, a blurry selfie from a concert, one of you hugging him at your high school graduation. It was stuck to your mirror with pink washi tape, slightly curled at the corners. Jake stepped forward and picked it up gently, his thumb brushing over your face in the picture.

“You kept this,” he said quietly.

You glanced up from where you were kicking off your shoes. “Of course I did.”

He nodded, holding the photo a moment longer before setting it back. “It’s weird seeing you here. I kept imagining this place, but…” he trailed off, eyes flicking across your wall of photos, then to your calendar filled with color-coded classes and post-it notes.

You sat beside him on the edge of the bed, your knee brushing his. “It’s been a lot,” you admitted. “Good, but… intense. The classes are harder than I thought. Everyone’s always going somewhere, doing something. It’s like, if you stop moving, you’ll fall behind.”

Jake nodded slowly. “You seem like you’ve settled in.”

You tilted your head. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, it’s just… I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe it’d be harder. That you’d miss home more.”

You glanced down at your hands. “I do. I miss my room, my mom’s cooking, the quiet. I miss you.”

He looked at you then, really looked. His expression softened. “Melbourne’s not the same without you. I thought I’d adjust faster, but everything just feels off. My roommates are loud, and the city’s busy, but in a different way. It’s colder, lonelier. I’m doing the work, going to practice, but it’s like I’m floating.”

Your eyes searched his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He gave a weak shrug. “You seemed like you were doing great. And I didn’t want to make you feel guilty.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “I never asked for perfect. I just wanted honest.”

He squeezed your hand back, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t want to admit how hard it was without you. Everything I looked forward to back home was with you. And now I’m waking up on the other side of the world, and nothing feels familiar.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I get it. I feel like I’m living two lives. One here, one back there… with you. And sometimes, I don’t know how to hold onto both.”

Jake nodded slowly, resting his cheek against your hair. “At least for now, we’re in the same place.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We are.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full of unspoken words, shared longing, and the comfort of just being close again.

For a moment, you both just breathed.

The next day, you gave Jake the grand tour. Or, at least, your version of it.

You started with the famous steps where students lounged between classes, headphones in, textbooks open, sunglasses catching the sun. Jake walked a half-step behind you, looking around like he was still waiting for something to feel familiar.

You pointed out the little things. The dorm building where your RA once burned popcorn and set off the fire alarm at two in the morning. The shady courtyard where you liked to read after your Tuesday classes. The fountain someone had once filled with bubbles after finals week.

You reached the library just as the bells started chiming. Inside, it smelled like worn leather and ambition. You ran your fingers along the shelves, telling Jake about your favorite hidden table near the back where you studied before your first midterm. He smiled politely, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked around the space like it wasn’t built for him.

At the coffee cart by the engineering building, the barista saw you and started your usual order without a word.

"Vanilla oat milk today, right?"

You grinned. "As always."

Jake shifted his weight and looked at the menu, though you knew he wasn’t really reading it.

"You come here a lot?" he asked.

"Pretty much every morning. It’s kind of my thing now."

He nodded and took the drink you ordered for him, but barely sipped it.

As you walked through the main quad, the sun lit everything gold. There was a guy passing out flyers in a dinosaur onesie. A girl practiced violin under an archway, and the sound floated like something out of a movie.

Then someone shouted your name.

"Yo! You coming to study group later?" a guy in a Stanford hoodie called across the lawn.

"Yeah! Save me a seat," you called back.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Friend?"

"Just from psych. We’ve got a midterm next week," you said. You tried to sound casual, but the words felt stiff.

Later, you brought Jake up to your dorm’s rooftop lounge. The twinkle lights were on already, even though it wasn’t quite dark. You told him you liked to come up here to think. The view stretched out to the hills, and if the sky was clear, you could even see the ocean in the distance.

Some of your floormates were already there. You introduced Jake, and they smiled, friendly enough. But the conversations drifted on without him. They asked him where he went to school, if he’d been to California before, and if he missed home. Jake answered each one carefully, but after a while, he fell quiet. You could feel the way he pulled back, even as you reached for his hand under the table. His fingers stayed still.

That night, Ni-Ki texted about a quick trip to Malibu. You had already invited Jake, and he said yes without hesitation. Still, you noticed the way he leaned his head against the car window, eyes distant, as you and Ni-Ki argued over which beach had the better sand. You tossed fries at each other, laughing when they bounced off your shirts. You took blurry selfies, some with the boardwalk lights glowing behind you.

Jake trailed behind as you walked along the sand. He took a few photos of the ocean and one or two of you, but mostly, he watched. You were barefoot, hair tangled from the wind, smiling so easily. When Ni-Ki wrapped an arm around your shoulder for a picture, you didn’t move away. Jake saw how your shoulders leaned in, how natural it all looked.

He didn’t say anything until later.

"You didn’t answer my call last week," he said, standing by your desk while you folded laundry.

You stopped, holding a pair of socks in your hand. "I had class. And I texted you after."

Jake looked away. "And Ni-Ki was probably there too, right?"

You turned, defensive. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"I don’t know. You talk about him a lot. He’s always around. He knows your coffee order."

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Are you jealous?"

"I’m not jealous," Jake muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I just don’t know where I fit in anymore."

You swallowed. "You’re the one who told me to come here. You told me to go after it."

"I know," he said. "And I meant it. But I didn’t think it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

"Like I’m watching you move on without me."

Your throat tightened. "Do you want me to stop making friends? To stop enjoying things just because you’re not here?"

"No. I don’t want that."

"Then what do you want, Jake?"

He didn’t answer right away. The room buzzed with the silence.

Finally, you spoke. "Maybe we need a break."

The words came out soft, but they hit hard.

Jake looked like you had just slapped him. "Maybe we do."

He flew back to Melbourne the next morning.

You drove him to the airport, the ride quiet except for the soft hum of the radio. Neither of you wanted to talk about it, but it hung between you, pressing down on the space inside the car. When you reached the curb, he leaned in to hug you, and you let him. Your hands stayed clutched to the steering wheel long after he walked away.

You didn’t talk for days after that.

At school, life moved forward whether you wanted it to or not. You went to class. You sat through study group and wrote notes in the margins of your psych textbook, even when your mind wandered. You walked the campus with Ni-Ki, who didn’t ask questions but made sure to carry your coffee when your hands were full. You watched your roommate get ready for another dinner date, laughing as she changed her outfit three times before settling.

At night, you stared at your phone, your lockscreen still a photo of you and Jake at the lake. You didn’t have the heart to change it. Not yet.

Across the world, Jake sat in his bedroom in Melbourne. The sun was rising when he opened his laptop, eyes still heavy from sleep. The apartment listing was still there, the one you both had saved last summer. You said it would be your place someday, when the timing worked and the distance didn’t feel so impossible.

His finger hovered over the delete button.

He thought about how it felt to walk through Stanford with you, like he was on the outside of something you had already built. He thought about your laughter with your friends, the way you folded into that world like you had always belonged.

He didn’t delete the listing.

Because despite everything, he still hoped. And maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t let go either.

#enflixx #enhypen #enha #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years ago

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I was completely unprepared for the interior of this 1990s 5 bd. 2ba home in Jennapullin, WA, Australia. $499K. The description says it was "painstakingly crafted from the ground up by our visionary client who sought to blend the past with the present." Nah, this is a WTH House.

The realtor says, "Prepare to be captivated as you step into a world where magic and charm intertwine." So we enter. Uhhh. Okay...it's huge, but it does look like a DIY job. There are 14 stunning chandeliers, all sourced from Government House- you can see some of them in the hall.

What is up with the carpeting? It looks like he bought a bunch of area rugs on clearance. Forget the carpet in this house, it's too big for that- just roll it up. The columns are 150 year old dragon columns obtained from Foo Lok Restaurant.

It goes on to say, "the epitome of extraordinary living! If you're tired of cookie-cutter homes and crave a dash of pizzazz, sprinkled with oodles of character, then this property is your dream come true."

I'm speechless. It's gigantic and the ceiling looks like a bowling alley's. But the pressed tin formerly adorned the ceilings of houses and hotels throughout Perth. So, this is the main living area with kitchen. But, why does it look like the decor isn't secure- the ceiling looks to be peeling off. The phoenixes once graced the dining hall of the Hills Street Chinese restaurant.

Look at the proportion of that exhaust hood to the double sized stove. That's a commercial exhaust, but it's way too big. I kind of like the touch of fancy framing around the windows and the large black tiles.

Now, this could've been elegant, but it's grimy looking, not well crafted, and appears to be falling apart in places.

He tried to make an elegant bath, but everything looks so grubby. Of this, the realtor says, "Picture this: fixtures and fittings lovingly sourced from iconic buildings scattered throughout our vibrant State of WA."

So, he fashioned a double sink, but the counter is just a 2"x4" (see the knot in the wood coming thru?) with gold taps in the wall, exposed old pipe, and ornate metal grates on each side. The floor looks like remnants and the panels don't fit flush around the tub.

More pieced area rugs in the primary bedroom. There's some sort of pattern in the floor under those carpets. Maybe it was some kind of sports facility, but apparently he bought the tiles at auction.

Here's the 2nd bath. Mirror looks like it's shimmed up to be flat against the wall. Don't like any of this, with the possible exception of the floor and tub.

He must've gotten some deal on these rugs.

In this 1/2 bath, he fashioned an unusual sink. Clearly, he doesn't understand the concept of a pair of curtains, b/c the windows all look to be adorned with a single stretched panel.

Here's another bedroom with silk curtains that previously hung in the Melbourne Hotel, hangin' like rags. It all just looks like a real hack job, though. He bought nice stuff, but the execution sucks.

He tried, bought some cool architectural salvage, but he just wasn't able to pull it all off. Here's a cute sink, but what's going on underneath?

Even the pool looks DIY with corrugated metal.

10.29 acres.

The property's pretty messy, though.

There's a creek, too. The whole thing really needs work. Maybe a new owner can make something nice out of it, but it will take a lot of money. To me it looks like a knockdown.

https://www.domain.com.au/406-frenches-road-jennapullin-wa-6401-2018641496

#WTH House #salvaged house #DIY house #houses #house tours #home tour

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nwjws · 2 years ago

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forget me not - teaser

series masterlist .

; pairing - heeseung x gn!reader

; synopsis - your high school years were normal, boring, even. but you’ve worked hard to get where you are now - a rising fashion designer, who gets called to work on a project that could potentially boost you into full success. the only problem is, you’re struggling to work with the model on the project, lee heeseung. for some reason, you can’t seem to befriend the man, even when it seems that heeseung knows you more about you than you do about him.

; wc (teaser) - 795

; starting date - tba.

; tags - written series, angst, maybe a little fluff, hanahaki disease au, switching between two time periods, playboy!heeseung, model!heeseung, designer!reader, highschool au ; warnings - none.

the audience claps as you bow on stage, having just finished up your most recent fashion stage with your new designs.

after answering several questions and promising to work with some others in the future, it was finally time for you to go home. much to your relief, because you were exhausted.

you didn’t get to enjoy your sleep half as much as you wanted though, awoken by the relentless ringing of your phone at 6 in the morning.

“hello?” you answer with the best imitation of a definitely-awake and lively voice.

“i know you just woke up,” your managing director cuts to the chase. “thank god you went into designing rather than acting.”

“it’s 6 in the morning, jake. of course i just woke up, i had a long day yesterday.”

“well, i have some exciting news for you, i seriously didn’t want to wait until later in the day.”

“go on,” you say, closing your eyes sleepily.

“you just got an offer to work on a big project! a peculiar one, too - you’ll have to go back to korea for this.”

your eyes snap open, and you sit up so fast your vision momentarily darkens. god, you really need more iron.

“what? i don’t really feel like going back though.”

“that’s crazy. why not? i thought you’d love to go back home.”

“well, i dunno,” you say lamely. “i feel like there are better things for me here. my guts feel rooted to melbourne; i don’t feel like going back just yet.”

the truth was, you weren't sure you were ready to go back home. you felt like you needed to accomplish more before you faced your parents for the first time since you left. and honestly, something in your soul wanted to stay as far away from your home country as possible.

“okay, but listen: the project is basically a challenge to work a new set of designs on a model, full of different concepts. you have to make them look cohesive, but different. they choose the model, so you have to work and make it suited to them specifically."

“that sounds terrible, i say no.”

you lay back down on your bed, intent on denying this project no matter what.

until, jake drops the amount you’d be getting paid.

yup, you were back up.

“no way…” you trail off, mind blown by the number. ideas of what you could do with that money went through your mind.

“are you considering it now? if you do well, you’d secure your spot as one of the most respected designers internationally.”

“that’s…" you trail off, taking in a deep breath. "okay, i think i’ll accept it.”

“wow, that was all it took. who says money doesn’t buy happiness?” he laughs.

you end the call and flip back onto the bed, but you don’t think you’ll fall asleep anymore. not when thoughts of returning back home for the first time since you left ran through your mind, and with the light from the window glaring into your eyes.

nostalgia hits you as your plane lands and you set foot on your homeland for the first time in 5 years. even the air had a particular smell you didn’t realise was only home to korea until you moved to australia at 19.

you settle in your hotel and make a mental note to visit your parents and friend from high school while you’re here.

friend - singular. you didn’t exactly befriend too many of your peers back in school. you weren’t a loser or anything, it was just that you kept to yourself in the hopes of finishing your education smoothly, without any drama.

you were friendly with others, sure. but the only person who really knew you was park jongseong. he’d stuck by you through it all.

your schedule was packed as soon as you arrived, meeting the rest of the team working on the project the very next day. after a quick debrief and outline of the details, you make your way to greet and talk to the other members.

“hello, i’m mun y/n,” you greet a man with a bow. you take note of his twinkling eyes the prominent dimple on his cheek.

“ah, hi. i’m yang jungwon, heeseung’s manager. you’re our designer, right?” he smiled at you.

“yes, it’s nice to meet you. who’s heeseung again?” you ask, a little embarrassed. remembering names was never your forte.

“over here,” jungwon says, pulling a tall man closer to you two by his shoulder.

“this is lee heeseung, the model of our project.”

a chilling sense of deja vu runs down your spine as your eyes trace over his familiar doe eyes and pointed nose. but the feeling leaves as soon as it comes.

; author's corner! hii i decided to post the teaser for this series as a belated happy birthday for heeseung <3 i'm still working on the chapters though, and might ask someone to beta read for me

; taglist (open!) - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @jjongshrts @yenqa @httpsneptvnn send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added!

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #kflixnet #k-labels #k-films #enhypen #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung x yn #heeseung fic #heeseung fics #enhypen series #heeseung angst #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #ੈ♡˳ - forget me not

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onboardsorasora · 2 years ago

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Because I can't help myself...

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3

Max felt like this was all just one big out of body experience. Daniel was hanging off of him smiling down the phone with his family. Because of course he had a phone— everyone did. But Daniel forgets about it apparently and it dies often because he doesn’t charge it. He has better things to do than be tethered to technology– unless it's like videos of animals then he has all the time in the world.

When the call had connected; Grace had been weeping and Joe had looked marginally worried. The moment they saw Max however, Joe looked apoplectic and Grace was gently replaced by Michelle who looked like she was planning to kill Max in his sleep.

“Daniel, love. Where are you?” Grace was sniffling and Daniel’s smile dimmed a little.

“Mama this is Max! He says I’m in Monaco— its far from Perth. I’m sorry Mama.”

“Danny you don’t even have a passport…” Michelle was confused and exasperated. Her usual emotions around her brother.

“Security must be very lax at the airport.” Joe muttered which had Max snorting. They’d all forgotten about him and he'd effectively gotten their attention again.

Michelle mutters something about trusting random people and Daniel lights up because he didn’t just trust blindly this time!

“Don’t worry Chellie! The cats say he's nice! And you know cats never lie!” They were right about the birds and so far they've been right about Max.

“Well if the cats say he's nice…” Grace had all but calmed down seeing that her baby is fine, but Michelle and Joe were already in action mode. They weren't so convinced about this ‘nice Max person’.

“Danny, can you give us a moment so we can talk to Max about getting you home?” Joe smiled when Daniel sang an ‘of course’ and they all watched him get up and frolic to a daybed behind Max and curl up with the cats. Max smiled unconsciously at his humming, who could stay stoic in the face of this?

Grace eventually flutters off as well– because her boy is hale and whole so she's good– and it's just Max left to the wolves of Michelle and Joe.

It takes a bit but they eventually believe that he's a Formula 1 driver (lots of cross referencing websites and apps. Michelle was thorough) and that he has no problems helping Daniel get home. The season doesn’t start for a few months so he’s got time.

Turns out they’ll need to get Daniel a passport, sneaking him back into the country even on a private jet was a felony.

Daniel was making himself comfortable during all of this, floating around the flat with Jimmy and Sassy in hand, singing to them and pointing out the window. He then started looking at himself in all of Max’s trophies, making faces in the mirrored metal, and singing the names to the cats.

“Oh! Melbourne! I know there!” Daniel excitedly pointed at a circular tray like trophy, the lighthouse on his thigh flashed a golden light and the sails of the ship fluttered.

“I’ve raced there.” Max smiled at Daniel’s delighted laugh. He continued to watch Daniel admire all his hardware and crystals with a fond smile– Michelle and Joe stared eagle eyed and tense. When it seemed like he wasn’t putting on a show, they calmed down a little. Just a smidge.

They allowed Max to go after a few more threats– which was only fair. And he went to take a cat from Daniel. Jimmy curled into Max’s hold and Sassy flopped herself around Daniel’s neck, kneading the air as if high on catnip. Daniel giggled, shrugged and scritched her tummy.

“Daniel do you want a change of clothes? Maybe a shower?”

Daniel started singing a song about showers and sunsets and Max took that to mean that sure, he wanted to shower. He found something non-merchy, a tshirt and athletic shorts, he hoped they fit because he didn’t exactly know what size daniel was.

Easily remedied, however, because Daniel took off his sweatshirt during his second chorus. Max blinked at the expanse of tanned skin that was exposed, and the new collection of tattoos that glowed and fluttered. He serenaded Sassy while she bundled in his arms, cooing and grinning when she purred back. The cherub on his forearm fluttered its wings.

He was smaller than Max anticipated, but still broader and fit. Max guessed it was because his aura was so large that he physically seemed tiny in comparison.

“Is there anything you want to eat? I can order food while you bathe.”

"Do they have pizza here? I love pizza." Daniel swayed where he stood, his inner music never stopping.

"We can get pizza."

Daniel did a happy dance then sauntered to the bathroom confidently. Max cut himself off from saying something when Daniel pointed to the hallway door while looking down at the cat in his hand. Right…Sassy knew where everything was. It was a …strange dynamic to consider.

While that happened, Max took out his phone and texted Charles for help. He was truly out of his depth and Charles knew how to handle weird shit. He'd gotten used to being more important than the Pope so he could help figure this out.

Charles came with Lando– because of course he did. Those two were always together nowadays. They could keep a secret– not from each other– but they were vaults otherwise. They were in the living room and Max was just about to start explaining when Daniel fluttered out of the bathroom humming. He was damp and shirtless but was wearing Max’s shorts, Charles’ and Lando’s mouths dropped open in shock.

Max scrambled up to cover Daniel off before he fully got into the living room. “Daniel, where is your shirt?”

“Oh, Sassy said it was uncomfortable so I like decided not to wear it.” He shrugged uncaringly and the skull baby on his bicep stepped forward to keep its footing. Sassy purred in his arms and he went back to staring at her lovingly.

“Do you want another shirt?”

“Max…what the fuck?” it was Lando. Max groaned when Daniel looked around him, beaming brightly. The rose bloomed a little.

“Hi! I’m Daniel!”

Part 4

#Joe and Michelle will kill for their boy. Grace is happy as long as he's happy #Something about Daniel makes everyone uber protective. Also...he's younger in this universe.#I think I want to make Max the older but I also don't want an 8 yr age gap. I'll figure it out #max/daniel #maxiel #enchanted au #disney princess dan #lando and charles are also there

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zendoorsau · 11 months ago

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tocitynews · 10 months ago

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A Widespread Microsoft Outage Disrupted Flights, Banks, Media Outlets And Companies Around The World On Friday And Highlighted Dependence On Software From A Handful Of Providers – New York City reporting

The issue affected Microsoft 365 apps and services, and escalating disruptions continued hours after the technology company said it was gradually fixing it.

Microsoft 365 posted on X that the company was “working on rerouting the impacted traffic to alternate systems to alleviate impact in a more expedient fashion” and that they were “observing a positive trend in service availability.”

Major disruptions reported by airlines and airports grew. Flight tracking website Flightaware reports more nearly 1,000 flights canceled and over 12,000 more are delayed. Chicago O'Hare, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta, Newark , La Guardia and Boston Logan International Airport lead Flightaware's "misery map" with the most delays and cancellations.

In the U.S., the FAA said the airlines United, Delta and Allegiant had all been grounded. American Airlines lifted its ground stop just after 5 a.m ET, saying they were able to "safely re-establish operations."

An earlier ground stop for Frontier Airlines was lifted just after midnight, and the carrier said they had resumed normal operations, for now.

Travelers at Los Angeles International Airport slept on a jetway floor, using backpacks and other luggage for pillows, due to a delayed United flight to Dulles International Airport early on Friday.

Across the pond, Edinburgh Airport said the system outage meant waiting times were longer than usual. London’s Stansted Airport said some airline check-in services were being completed manually, but flights were still operating.

The budget airline Ryanair said they are "experiencing disruption across the network due to a global third party IT outage which is out of our control. We advise all passengers to arrive at the airport at least three hours before their scheduled departure time.”

Widespread problems were reported at Australian airports, where lines grew and some passengers were stranded as online check-in services and self-service booths were disabled. Passengers in Melbourne queued for more than an hour to check in, although flights were still operating. Airlines Virgin Australia and Qantas were severely affected by the outage.

News outlets in Australia — including the ABC and Sky News — were unable to broadcast on their TV and radio channels, and reported sudden shutdowns of Windows-based computers. Some news anchors broadcast live online from dark offices, in front of computers showing “blue screens of death.” Telecommunications providers, banks and media broadcasters were also disrupted as they lost access to computer systems. Outages reported on the site DownDetector included the banks NAB, Commonwealth and Bendigo, as well as internet and phone providers such as Telstra. The New Zealand banks ASB and Kiwibank said their services were down.

Television stations in the United Kingdom were being disrupted by the computer issues.

Hospitals in Britain and Germany also reported problems.

Israel’s Cyber Directorate said that it was among the places affected by the global outages, attributing them to a problem with the cybersecurity platform Crowdstrike. The outage also hit the country’s post offices and hospitals, according to the ministries of communication and health.

In South Africa, at least one major bank said it was experiencing “nationwide service disruptions” as customers reported they were unable to make payments using their bank cards at grocery stores and gas stations.

Numerous European airlines are using manual check-in.

#microsoft #System breakdown

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doubleglazingvic · 1 year ago

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Website : https://doubleglazingmelbourne.com/

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Phone Number : 03 9002 0137

#Melbourne double glazing services #Energy-efficient windows Melbourne #Noise reduction windows #Secure double glazed windows #UV-resistant glass Melbourne

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shayonablinds · 2 years ago

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Enhance Your Workspace with Commercial Blinds in Melbourne

Introduction:

When it comes to creating a functional and appealing workspace in Melbourne, commercial blinds are often an overlooked yet vital component. These versatile window coverings do much more than just provide shade and privacy. They can significantly impact the ambiance, productivity, and energy efficiency of your commercial space. In this article, we will explore the world of commercial blinds in Melbourne and how they can transform your business premises.

The Importance of Commercial Blinds in Melbourne

Melbourne, Australia, is known for its unpredictable weather, which can range from scorching heat to chilly winds. In such a climate, it's essential to have control over the amount of natural light and heat that enters your workspace. This is where commercial blinds come to the rescue.

Types of Commercial Blinds in Melbourne

1. Vertical Blinds:

Vertical blinds are a popular choice for commercial spaces in Melbourne. They are known for their versatility and ability to control light effectively. In a city where weather conditions can change rapidly, these blinds are highly practical.

2. Roller Blinds:

For a sleek and modern look, roller blinds are an ideal choice. They offer excellent light and privacy control, making them perfect for contemporary office spaces.

3. Venetian Blinds:

Venetian blinds are timeless and come in various materials such as wood and PVC. They provide a sophisticated and stylish appearance that can match your brand's aesthetics.

4. Roman Blinds:

you aim to create a warm and inviting ambiance in your commercial space, Roman blinds are a fantastic choice. They add an element of luxury and elegance.

5. Panel Glides:

For larger windows and sliding doors, panel glides are the way to go. They offer a contemporary look and are easy to operate, making them perfect for high-traffic areas.

Advantages of Commercial Blinds for Your Business

Using commercial blinds in your Melbourne workspace offers several benefits that can significantly impact your business:

1. Light Control:

Melbourne's ever-changing weather requires precise control over natural light. Commercial blinds allow you to adjust the light entering your space, improving comfort and productivity.

2. Privacy:

Maintaining privacy in a business environment is crucial. With blinds, you can control visibility from the outside, ensuring a secure and confidential workspace.

3. Energy Efficiency:

Energy-efficient blinds help regulate indoor blinds melbourne temperatures. They keep your space cool in summer and warm in winter, reducing energy costs and creating a comfortable working environment for your employees.

4. Aesthetic Appeal:

Well-chosen commercial blinds can enhance the overall aesthetics of your workspace, creating a professional and inviting atmosphere for clients and employees.

5. Durability:

Commercial blinds are designed to with stand the of everyday use in high-traffic areas. They are built to last, providing a solid return on investment.

Choosing the Right Commercial Blinds

Selecting the perfect commercial blinds Melbourne business involves careful consideration. Here are some crucial factors to keep in mind:

1. Purpose:

Determine the primary purpose of the blinds. Are they meant for light control, privacy, or purely for aesthetics? Understanding your goals will help you choose the right type.

2. Material:

The material of the blinds is essential. It should align with the ambiance you want to create and the durability you require. Common materials include wood, fabric.

3. Colors and Design:

Blinds come in a variety of colors and designs. Choose shades that complement your branding and overall interior decor.

4. Budget:

Set a budget for your commercial blinds. While quality is crucial, you can find blinds that meet your requirements without breaking the bank.

5. Professional Installation:

Consider hiring a professional for installation. Proper installation ensures that your blinds function as intended and look their best.

Conclusion

In the dynamic business landscape of Melbourne, commercial blinds are more than just window coverings. They are tools that can enhance your workspace, improve comfort, and leave a lasting impression on clients. When chosen wisely, commercial blinds become an integral part of your business's success. Take the time to explore the options available, consider your specific needs, and make an informed decision. Elevate your business with the perfect commercial blinds in Melbourne.

#commercial blinds melbourne #blinds supplier melbourne #ziptrak outdoor blinds melbourne #indoor blinds melbourne

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oogaboogaau · 1 day ago

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Top Solutions for A Frames and Signage in Melbourne

When it comes to grabbing attention and making a strong first impression, nothing beats effective signage. Whether you're a small café owner, retail shop manager, or a growing business in a bustling area, well-designed signage is your silent salesperson. In Melbourne, businesses are increasingly turning to A frames and signage for versatile, cost-effective marketing. And when it comes to getting the message just right, professional sign writers in Melbourne are the go-to experts.

In this blog, we'll explore everything you need to know about A-frames, general signage, and the importance of skilled sign writers. If you're a business owner in Melbourne looking to enhance your street presence, this guide is for you.

What Are A Frames?

A-frames, also known as sandwich boards, are freestanding signs typically used on sidewalks and footpaths. They’re shaped like the letter “A” and are designed to be portable, weather-resistant, and highly visible. These signs are popular among businesses like cafés, salons, real estate agencies, and local retailers.

Why A Frames Work:

Visibility: Positioned at eye level, they naturally attract attention.

Portability: Easy to move, rotate, and store.

Flexibility: Can display special offers, menus, directional information, or events.

Cost-Effective: Compared to other types of signage, A-frames offer excellent return on investment.

In a competitive market like Melbourne, where foot traffic is high, an A-frame can help your brand stand out on busy streets.

The Importance of Signage for Businesses

Signage is more than just a board with your business name. It communicates who you are, what you offer, and why customers should choose you. Whether it’s window decals, illuminated signs, banners, or vehicle graphics, the role of signage is to reinforce your brand identity.

Benefits of High-Quality Signage:

Brand Recognition: Consistent, clear, and visually appealing signage helps establish your brand in the minds of customers.

Increased Foot Traffic: Eye-catching signs draw attention from passersby and invite them in.

Information Sharing: Signs are useful for communicating hours of operation, safety protocols, directions, and promotions.

Professionalism: A well-crafted sign shows that you care about details, which boosts credibility.

For Melbourne-based businesses, signage is essential in creating that ever-important first impression.

Why Choose Professional Sign Writers in Melbourne?

Designing and installing effective signage requires more than just a printer. It takes an understanding of branding, graphic design, typography, materials, and the legal standards of local councils.

This is where sign writers in Melbourne come in. These professionals work with you from concept to completion to ensure your signage reflects your brand's personality and appeals to your target market.

What Sign Writers Offer:

Custom Design: Tailored graphics and layouts to match your brand identity.

Material Selection: Recommendations on durable, high-quality materials suitable for Melbourne’s changing weather.

Compliance: Guidance on council regulations and permits required for outdoor signage.

Installation: Safe, efficient, and professional installation to ensure your signs are secure and well-positioned.

Ongoing Support: Maintenance, updates, and redesigns as your business evolves.

When you work with experienced sign writers in Melbourne, you're investing in quality and long-term brand presence.

Choosing the Right Type of Signage

The right type of signage depends on your business goals, location, and target audience. Here are some of the most popular signage solutions offered by professionals in Melbourne:

1. A Frames

Ideal for street-level marketing, sales promotions, and menus. These are especially effective for shops, cafés, and pop-up events.

2. Window Signage

Great for high-visibility businesses in shopping strips or malls. Can include frosted films, vinyl decals, and large graphic panels.

3. Illuminated Signs

Perfect for 24/7 visibility. Often used by restaurants, bars, and service-based businesses that operate during evening hours.

4. Vehicle Signage

Transforms your car, van, or truck into a mobile billboard. A smart choice for tradies, delivery services, and mobile businesses.

5. Wall Murals and Internal Signs

Enhances the interior branding of your business space. This includes reception signs, feature walls, and directional signs.

Each of these signage types can be tailored to your specific needs by Melbourne’s top sign writing professionals.

Why Melbourne Businesses Trust Ooga Booga

At Ooga Booga, we specialize in creating stunning, effective, and durable signage solutions for businesses across Melbourne. Whether you need A frames and signage in Melbourne or want to collaborate with experienced sign writers in Melbourne, our team has the expertise to bring your vision to life.

What Makes Us Different:

Creative Designs: We believe your signage should be as unique as your brand.

Premium Materials: We use only the best materials for longevity and professional finish.

Fast Turnaround: We know time is money, and we work to meet your deadlines without compromising quality.

End-to-End Service: From design and permits to production and installation, we handle it all.

We’ve worked with businesses across various industries—hospitality, real estate, retail, and service sectors—and delivered signage that not only looks great but drives results.

Tips for Effective Signage

Want to make the most out of your signage investment? Keep these tips in mind:

Keep It Simple: A clean design with minimal text and strong visuals works best.

Use Contrasting Colors: Make sure your message is easy to read from a distance.

Include a Call-to-Action: Encourage customers to come in, check out a sale, or visit your website.

Keep it Updated: Rotate messages or refresh graphics regularly to stay relevant.

Location Matters: Place your A-frame or sign where it gets maximum visibility without obstructing walkways or violating council rules.

Final Thoughts

Signage is an investment in your brand’s visibility and success. In a vibrant and competitive market like Melbourne, your business needs every edge it can get. From creative A frames and signage in Melbourne to experienced sign writers in Melbourne, Ooga Booga offers comprehensive solutions tailored to your brand.

Let your signs speak volumes. Whether you're promoting a special offer, showcasing your services, or simply making your presence known—quality signage is the key to being seen, remembered, and trusted.

#Sign Writers Melbourne #A frames and Signage Melblourne

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