#plastic bottle campaign

[trashmouth-richie]

master list

eddie! x fem reader

summary: 3 years later; happy birthday

I can’t believe this is almost the end. It is so bittersweet to be uploading this and thanking you all for the continued support on this story. I hope you will miss eddie + tooty just as much as I will. The epilogue is next and then a fun little surprise for you all.

trigger warnings: fluff, sweet sweet fluff 💕

Crinkly paper streamers twist down into even boughs along the cedar planked walls.  A homemade banner crafted with the best paint Melvald’s could offer, hung over the sliding patio door, freckled with glitter and deep hues of scarlet and onyx. 

  Carefully stenciled uniform letters spelling out a greeting for the birthday boy, line the banner— perfectly positioned.  

  Looking at it now, you can nearly feel the backache it caused from the leaned over pretzel position you were tangled in while attempting to make it look store bought. Instead it took hours and a ruined shirt to paint each letter with precision on your living room floor. 

  Red plastic cups were stacked in a corner on top of a cheap plastic table cloth adorned with paper plates and plastic utensils. A smaller card table from the Wheeler-Byer’s held a two tiered homemade cake, dolloped with sticky whipped strawberry frosting. His favorite.

  Polaroids of the birthday boy were placed, in no particular pattern, with sticky tack to the wall above the card table holding the presents. 

  Various shots from the past year capturing adventures big and small. He had wanted that.

  Wanted to remember every detail— an important step to moving forward, leaving the past in the dust and enjoying the second chance at life you had both been given. 

  The pictures were mostly candids, snapped in the blur of a moment, memories to be cherished for a lifetime to come. And although some of them were cheesy, or horribly cliche; they held delicate moments of the past two years of you and Eddie, together at last.

  You suck the sticky remnants of frosting from your thumb as you carefully arrange a framed picture of his graduation day just so on the table, stepping back and admiring the hard work and weeks worth of planning you had done.  

  Your fingers dance along the sharp edges of the selected photos you had given Jonathan to print for you. 8”x10”, 5”x7”, colored, sepia tone, and even black and white you had wanted to give it more of a collage feel to the project, and Jonathan did a great job. 

  The pictures varied from moments that probably didn’t need to be remembered and ones that should have been taken by a professional, but it was perfect, exactly the way you had envisioned it. 

  A snapshot photo of Eddie’s plump lips wrapped around a brown beer bottle after a night of helping Wayne paint the outside of his trailer, his signature middle finger in the air, the rings glittering with the flash— was propped next to a candle.

  One of Wayne and Eddie hugging on Christmas last year, a small tree tucked into the corner of the yellowing smoke stained walls and part of your finger covering the lens, and another one right after the first of them both looking shocked that you snapped the picture. 

  A picture of you and him, holding fishing poles on the bank of Lover’s Lake. His arm wrapped around your waist, your pole holding a sizable fish, his line snagged on moss and a tattered beat up tennis shoe, a proud smile on his face as he looked down at you, you mid laugh as Wayne teased Eddie behind the lens.

  Another of just him in black and white, asleep on the bed you shared his dark tattoos looked piercing against his bare chested. Long angelic lashes closed against pinked warm cheeks, the silver scar barely visible on his bottom lip. 

  One with Eddie and the boys, sitting in the backyard, the tails of the fire licking into the sun fading sky, his hands wild in the middle of explaining a campaign idea. 

  A candid of Steve, Eddie, Robin and Dustin wearing their tuxes and running into the ocean. Shoes snug into the sand and socks left forgotten. Steve’s white jacket thrown into the air, half of a laughing, Leighanne all dolled up and beautiful on their big day. 

  A photo from the same day, but of only you and him, your lips perched on his cheek as he held you in his lap in the back of a limo. His other cheek sparkling with the residue of a lipgloss kiss, one hand holding your strappy lavender heels, the other wrapped around your waist. His dimpled smile wide and toothy.

  And finally, your favorite one: one of just you and him, dressed in your homemade costumes as Mario and Luigi. A felt mustache falling from under your nose,his white gloved hands holding up rock n’ roll. Right before you two had won the Halloween costume contest at Nancy and Jonathan’s house. 

  Wayne had brought baby pictures that he had dug out of an old box in the forgotten storage shed when you had moved in. Dust lining the frames showing a brown haired baby with doe eyes, drooling over a washcloth while in the sink for a bath. A curly haired toddler with a big smile while on the swings at a park. And many more that were placed around the house. 

  The most special of them all sat on Eddie’s bedside table: a woman with soft honey muddied curls sweeping down to the middle of a white blouse, sunglasses pushed into her hair atop her head, kissing the forehead of a baby swaddled in a blanket.

  “Tooty!” Gareth called from the kitchen, “phone call!” 

  You set the napkins next to Nancy who was meticulously adjusting the m&m dish  into its correct place. Trying to balance out the clashing colors with the black and red theme. 

  “Looks perfect as always, Nance,” you murmur as you squeeze her arm gently when you pass her. 

  She huffs in disapproval, sweeping a permed curl behind her ear, her finger to her lips as she tuts, “it’s missing something.” You squeeze her arm again and trot into the living room. 

  Gareth is holding the blue phone by the long cord twirling it around like a pair of nunchucks, shoving the last bits of a hot dog in his mouth, ketchup wedged into the corner by his lips. “ it’s Hig D,” he announciates horribly, “somthin’ about heddie— shit that’s good— something about them just getting ready to leave work.” 

  laughing at him you can only roll your eyes, “you’ll make a good whore someday deep throatin’ like that,” you tease, taking the phone from his hand. 

  Gareth chuckles and shoves your shoulder, “haven't had any complaints yet, Oh! By the way, I need a three day extension on rent. Cool?” 

  Rolling your eyes again, a smile escapes your lips as you flip him off. 

  Of all of Eddie’s friends, Gareth was the hardest one to crack, but now he was easily your favorite. He reminded you a lot of Eddie in high school. A wild haired mess, always down for a crazy adventure to surely land him into trouble. But a big ol softie when it came down to people he cared about, especially Will. 

  Curling your fingers around the telephone cord, you talk into the receiver, “hey D, what’s up?” 

  —-

  Argyle and Jonathan arrive through the front door, smelling like purple palm tree delight and balancing pizza boxes in their arms. 

  Robin spins at least a dozen times trying to find a place for the tower of cheesed pie and nearly knocks into Jonathan in her pursuit of frenzy. The boys slide them into place onto a card table against the kitchen wall, a photo of you and Eddie holding the keys to Hop’s cabin with wide grins on your faces hanging above it. 

  The brisk May breeze flows through the house, flickering the candles and making the helium balloons bump into one another in a lazy staticky dance. 

  A blur of red stalks into the house holding two bottles of liquor in each hand, a baseball hat backwards on her head, “hope Eddie likes whiskey because that’s all Walt would sell me,” she says heaving the bottles onto the counter in a clunkered manner, wiping the sweat from her freckled forehead, sporting a fresh new bob cut all thanks to you, “stubborn ass, he charged me nearly double,” she huffs, folding the paper sacks haphazardly, “son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t even let me use my employee rate!” 

  “Thanks for getting it Maxi-pad,” you say over your shoulder stifling a giggle from the old nickname you hadn’t called her since middle school, “Eddie’ll drink beer from a boot as long as he got a buzz from it—let me know what I owe you.” 

  She spins on squeaky sneakers and grabs a slice of pizza from one of the leaning boxes, squishing the greasy cheese between her teeth, talking with a mouthful “quit— we’re square for all the times you’ve come over since moving back.” 

  A sad expression falters behind the mask on her porcelain complexion. But she’s quick to shove it all away. It had been months since she’d been back in Hawkins, and your friend since elementary school was just starting to get her life back into order.

  “Eddie’s offer still stands by the way,” you gently whisper, turning away from placing candles into the pink frosting to give her a quick squeeze, the fringes of your friendship mending together after years of not really speaking. 

  Holding Max at arms length you raise your eyebrows at her, “I’m serious,” a clip in your voice that even Nancy would envy. 

  She shrugs quickly and looks back with wet blue eyes, not willing to let her guard down on the eve of a party, “I’ll think about it,” her jaw set tight. 

 “Let's have fun tonight, okay?” she begs, “it isn’t every day Eddie’s old decrepit ass turns forty.” 

  The giggle she was hoping for to ease the tension tickled your throat, “he’s twenty nine, Maxine,” you tease back. 

  “Oh-ho-ho,” she chuckles, crossing the linoleum to the fridge in a swift motion, throwing open the door and leaning into the illuminated box, fingers dancing along the brown neck of a Bud Light, a smug smile on her salmon lips, “government names huh, T? I’ll remember that.” 

  —

  Will and Mike were in charge of moving vehicles behind the north tree line away from the driveway and out of sight. Each car owner silently held their breath and the litter of anxiety rising higher as Mike got behind the wheel of each car. 13 tickets by Hopper’s deputies hadn’t slowed him down yet. 

  Leighanne, and El had just finished hanging the decorative white lights on the back deck and around the trees. The backyard looked like a little cozy oasis. And it warmed your soul to see it all come together. 

  It was rough when you had first moved in here. Hopper had a buddy who owned the cabin you now call home. It was far from town but hadn’t been renovated in years. Nothing a little elbow grease and nights after work wouldn’t fix, it took six months with help from just about everyone you knew, but the place was perfect. 

  And after everything that happened in Hawkins, Eddie’s promise stuck. 

  He got you both out. Started a new life away from the wandering eyes and whispered lies. Even after he was cleared, people still wouldn’t let it go. 

  But, the cabin was everything you could imagine and more. Perched into a thick grove of trees. Secluded. Secretive. Exactly what you both needed. 

  It was  heaven. 

  Lounging on blankets in the soft grass, bare toes curled into the soft comforter, the girls sat back and laughed as Steve nearly tipped over the entire pan of grilled burgers and hot dogs.  

  “Yeah laugh it up you two!” Steve scolded playfully, tugging and shoving a hand into the thick tuft of hair on his head, “you won’t be laughing when there’s nothing to eat!” 

  “Such sass from The Grill Master,” Leighanne giggled, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, a large diamond on her ring finger.

  Before Steve could whip up something cheeky, Arygle’s smooth baritone voice broke amongst the laughs, “Damn my dude,” he chuckled, leading Eden’s small frame through the patio door, “smells good out here.” 

  Steve huffs again, “Thanks, I’m just doing what I’m told, don’t mind the peanut gallery back there,” he gestures with his spatula to the two giggling gals on the blanket. 

  The keg was perched on the small back deck, ice melting slowly around the tin base. Steve had been grilling burgers for the last half hour, smears of grease rubbed on the bottom of his red apron embossed with fancy lettering, kiss the cook.

  “And you’re doing it man,” Argyle salutes him as a fellow culinary soldier, “it’s art what you’re doing dude, pure fuckin art—like Picasso if he was a chef… piSteveo.”

  “Okay man—yeah, I get it,” Steve says all in one breath, rolling his eyes and cracking a grin back at his bride who was biting her own cheek and trying not to laugh. “Dustin and Susie ride with you?” 

  “Yeah,” Eden scowls, crossing her legs and dragging Argyle down to sit on the picnic bench, her black pixie cut fluttering in the light breeze resembling a real life goth tinkerbell, “that four eyed little shit kept going on and on about the ecosystem and methane gas or whatever, so yeah they’re here— probably terrorizing everyone else about the election or some shit.” 

  Steve snorts and flips another burger onto the grates, the sizzle of charred seasoned beef signaling the first signs of summer, “sounds about right.” 

  “Alright guys,” you say stepping through the sliding patio door, the sun close to setting in the west taking the warmth with it, “D said they’re just leaving so everyone get in position.” 

  -

  “..I’m just sayin’ is all,” D barks, finishing wiping the grease from a gas station bean burrito on the back of his hand from his pudgy lips, “I’ll give you top dollar for it.” 

  Eddie took another sip from his Mt. Dew, barreling down the highway and thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, contemplating heavily on what Big D had been asking of him. 

  “fuck I dunno man… it’s like a part of me y’know?” 

  Eddie rubs the beginning of his scruffy chin, unable to grow a full beard even though he’s nearly in his thirties, Peter Pan syndrome hitting him square in the jaw. 

  “had it since I was fifteen, fixed it all up with my uncle,” he mumbles lighting a cigarette between his teeth, “it’s a staple to the Munson name.” 

  D rolls his eyes and tosses the foil wrapper to the floorboards of Eddie’s truck. “that was like twenty years ago man, you don’t even drive it anymore.”

  Eddie chuckles through a cloud a smoke, turning the steering wheel to the right down the hidden driveway, overgrown grass on both ends of a rotted through fence post, “easy there asshole— ‘sides, thought you were buying Jeff’s mom’s car?” 

  D slides belches loud and throws his chubby hand out the window, fresh air wiggling his fingers slowly, “I did, just gotta fix it up, but the van would be my daily driving chick magnet.” He wiggles his eyebrows like two black caterpillars dancing a tango. 

  Eddie smiles to himself, memories of past times booze cruising to Rick’s and hauling band equipment to the Hideout. Times long gone and fading like the moon into dawn. 

  A time when he was ruthless, chaotic and hungry for the world’s shittiness just so he could add his own fucked up version to it. A big fuck you to anyone who ever doubted him. 

  A time before you were officially his. 

  Nowadays the bear inside of him was tame, licking its paws in laziness, hibernating with the sounds of a calm beating heart. Fed and cared for, content. 

  “We’ll see,” he replies, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “you still owe me $40 for that service you gifted to that waitress last week, fucker.” 

  “Pffft,” D says lighting a cigarette, “take it out of my check boss man.” 

  Eddie cranked his lips into a smirk, it still didn’t feel real.

-

  The roar of Eddie’s diesel truck echoes along the tree line, vibrating against the fallen branches from the late winter storm that snapped full grown Red Oaks like matchsticks when the ice built heavy onto its branches. 

  The cabin lights were dim, curtains pulled tight to barely show the glimpse of any crack of light. It wasn’t unusual, your lives were kept pretty private after everything that happened, doors always locked. 

  “The hell?” Eddie grumbled, wiggling the stick into neutral with the palm of his hand and killing the engine, the old dodge sputtering out to quiet, “thought you said Gareth was comin’ over to practice tonight?” 

  D fumbled for words, reaching for the metal door handle “no, yeah he’s here— maybe Will dropped ‘im off.”

  Eddie quirked an eyebrow, the exhaustion from work taking over his features as he let out a loud yawn and arched his back against the velour seats, he climbed out of the pickup, lunchbox in tow. 

  “alright man, ‘m just gonna shower quick,” he hooks a thumb behind his shoulder, walking up the stone path to the front door, “think Tooty still has the hose hooked up if you wanted to rinse off.” 

  D stomps around the truck, leaning a thick arm onto the hood, “don’t make any special accommodations for me dude, I’m cool.” 

  “Yeah yeah you’re pretty cool alright,” Eddie said climbing the two steps with heavy footsteps, and putting a brass key into the knob, twisting it in his grasp, “why’d you think I had the window dow—”

  Eddie is almost knocked back into the wall by the room full of his friends shouting surprise! as he entered the cabin. 

  Shock and a racing heartbeat wash away to a dimpled smile and squinted eyes. It was worth the weeks of planning and aligning everyone’s schedules to make it all work out. And in the end, the crowd turned into a blur when you peaked your head behind the kitchen wall grinning wide at the handsome man at the door. 

  His girl. His one and only. Spoiling him with a surprise party. Mouthing “happy birthday baby,” from across the room with a warm smile that still was able to tinge his cheeks in the prettiest shade of bashful. 

  Backs were slapped and shoulders clapped as Eddie made his way around to the guests. His smile was wide and toothy, lighting up the room with his deep laugh and dimples. 

  He hugged friends like he hadn’t seen them in years, pressed cheek to cheek and apologizing later for grease smudges left on their shirts. 

  “Shit,” Wayne breathed, as he stepped into the doorway, finding you immediately and looking sympathetic, “sorry we’re late, the missus was wrappin’ a last minute gift.” 

  Nancy and Mike’s mom stood tucked beneath Wayne’s arm. Four gifts wrapped tight and pristine, held in her arms. The alimony from Ted was still treating her more than well. 

  “Wayne,” Karen giggles like a schoolgirl, a long manicured hand to his denim jacket, dismissing him with a wink, “here Tooty,” she gleams, walking towards you with her arms outstretched, embracing you in a hug, “it’s just a little something for the two of you, saw it at the mall and couldn’t resist!” 

  It was an adjustment for the youngest Wheeler when Karen left Ted. Nancy and Mike didn’t seem to care, having already been moved out of the house and living their own lives. But Holly took it hard, refusing to see her mother at all. 

  “It’s perfect thank you Karen,” Eddie said, sneaking around you, his fingers dragging along your lower back  and down your hip, sending shivers to your core. A quick wink to you as he grabs the gifts from her and Wayne. 

  He was happy for them, he had never seen Wayne with someone who treated him so well before  in his life, he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “next time put your glasses on so you can see while driving, might get here on time, old man.”

  Wayne rolled his eyes and put Eddie in a headlock, “I ain’t here to see you anyhow, came to see my favorite daughter in law to be if you’d just marry her already, didn’t even know it was your birthday you little punk.” 

  “Yeah yeah,” Eddie scoffed, “that’s why it says ‘Ed’s birthday’ on the calendar in your office, right? Because you didn’t know?” 

  Wayne releases Eddie and gives him a side hug, “been celebratin’ this day for twenty-three years with y’ boy, I ain’t never forgettin’” 

  Karen was always like a mother to you. The Wheeler’s held such a special place in your heart, and you’d always be grateful for the kindness both her and Ted had shown you when you were growing up. Seeing her now with Wayne surprisingly wasn’t that odd. They balanced each other well. 

  Wayne pulls you into the other side of him, keeping you and Eddie under each arm, “looks real good in here darlin’” He says, looking down at you with icy blue eyes, “sure am glad  y’ learned how to tame this wild li’l shit.” 

  you smile up at the Munson’s and Eddie sticks out his tongue at you. 

  “Now,” he says addressing only Eddie, “I swear on my mama and daddy’s graves, Ed, you better marry this girl someday or ‘m gonna hang y’ from your toes by that clothesline out back.” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes, but before he can speak, Nancy  waves at her mother and stands atop a metal chair.

  “Alright everyone, let’s go out back and we can start eating.”

  Once the room emptied it was just you and Eddie. The tension was always thick in every room you were in with him, electric in ways that buzzed between your legs and made your head feel fuzzy. 

  You waited your turn patiently. 

  Eddie coins a coy grin behind his plump lips, walking with his hands behind his back and moving his shoulder low, cocking his head. 

  Your hands, busy themselves with arranging presents, fingers slipping between the silky ribbons and plucking the ends to watch them curl.  Warm arms surround your waist and you act surprised and let out a squeal. 

  He sets you down and pushes the collar of your shirt to the side, pressing his lips like angel’s wings to the skin on your shoulder, relishing in the way the goosebumps crawled across your flesh. 

  “Eddie,” you hum, working your fingers behind you to pull on the tendrils of sweaty hair tucked behind his neck. 

  “Hmm?” He breathes hot across your neck, working his way up to the dainty gold necklace, the same one brandishing the ring he gave you for Christmas in 1992, nothing compared to the one he was eyeballing at the jewelry store in the mall. 

  Rubbing the underside of your chin with the bulb of his nose, you shudder and feel his grin on your skin, “all of this for me?” 

  You nod and whine when a large hand dances across the waist of your jeans. And almost let out a moan when he nips at your earlobe. 

  Eddie’s work days were long but the nights spent between the sheets were longer, both of you never getting enough of each other. The passion and static was always there. 

  “Wanted to surprise my birthday boy,” you breathed as your head fell back into his shoulder, and he bucked his hips into you, pushing you into the rickety table and shaking the presents. 

  “You’re too good to me,” Eddie whispered into your ear, his fingers digging into your hips. “How am I ever going to thank my pretty gir—?”

  “Hey you guys comin’ or what?” Steve asks, hands on his hips and a scorch mark on his apron, “Nancy’s making a fucking seating chart out there, and I really hope you have liability insurance because Argyle is trying to teach Dustin yoga.”

  Eddie takes his lips from your neck and turns to face Steve, “I mean, we coulda been if you hadn’t barged in.” 

  “Eddie!” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and straightening your shirt, “we’ll be right out Steve, just going to give Eddie his birthday present.” 

  His eyes sparkle in mischievous wonder, “oooh you think we have time?” He says unbuttoning his work blues, “I like the way you think dirty sweetheart.” 

  You roll your eyes and tug him down the hallway to your bedroom. 

  “Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, shaking his head and making his way through the patio door, “nah don’t worry I’ll entertain the guests,” he says in annoyance, “maybe we can play parcheesi or hotdog Jenga.” 

  —

  “Don’t peek!” 

  “Oh c’mon!” 

  “Eddie.” 

  “Ugh fine, but you better be naked or I’ll pout.” 

  “Such a brat...”

  “Don’t act surprised babe.” 

  “Alright open, but I am very much still dressed, that part of your present is later tonight.” 

  Eddie had showered and was getting dressed shoving his feet into a worn pair of converse when you waltzed into the room, a small oblong box behind your back. 

  Dropping the carefully wrapped present into his awaiting hands, he holds the box like a carton of eggs. One eye peeked open, “well,” Eddie says rubbing the corners of the box with the calloused pads on his thumbs, “this doesn’t feel like a puppy.” 

  “You poor boy,” you tease with a shove to his shoulder, and a kiss to his cheek, “how will you ever live?” 

  Eddie tears the paper with a hook of his finger where the tape joins the pieces, wet tendrils of hair dripping water marks onto the wrapping, “it’ll be hard but I think I’ll manage.” 

  Biting your lip in anticipation you watch as Eddie tears the paper in boyish glee. And you aren’t sure who’s smile is wider when he finally opens the small rectangle shaped box. 

  It took awhile to save up for it. Cutting countless heads of hair in the renovated room above Master Mechanic’s, the auto shop Eddie co-owned with Wayne in Bridgeport, and earning a small wage by cleaning houses for a few hours on the weekends. 

  But every scrubbed toilet, every rolled perm rod was worth it when Eddie opened his present. 

  “It's about time you saw them live, yeah?” 

  Tickets to Metallica, the same gift. But this time with the promise of actually going and witnessing their magic. 

  “Oh baby,” Eddie nearly cried, running his fingers over the inked words carefully, he set the tickets down on the comforter and wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into him, “why are you so good to me?” 

  And just like the first time he asked you, years ago, before you were his and he was yours. When you were just roommates exchanging gifts on Christmas. You told him what you should have then. 

  but you don’t fight to find the words anymore, or wonder if it’ll sound dumb. Everything you've been through with Eddie you could never imagine living life with anyone other than him. 

  The words come easy, and it’s one of the truest things you’ve ever said. 

  “Because you’re a good man. Because you’re the reason I wake up smiling every morning. Because I have never loved anyone the way that I love you, and I’ll always, always regret not telling you sooner.” 

  Eddie smiles with a quivering lip and you lean down to wipe the tears from his eyes, his arms wrap around you tight like a vice grip.

  Looking into his eyes, he somehow looked better with every year passing, truly aging like fine wine, and you were drunk on him.

   “Don’t cry on your birthday baby, it’s supposed to be a party,” you smile warmly at him, bringing his chin up a bit

so you can press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

  Pulling you into him so you’re straddling his hips, he whispers an I love you into your ear with your real name attached at the end, all satiny on his breath like a Hershey kiss.

  You don’t hear your God given name very often, having hated it for as long as you remember. Stubbornly telling everyone at a young age that your name was Tooty. Even writing it on all of your school papers as early as kindergarten. 

  But when Eddie said it, it set your soul on fire. Like a secret kept finally being told. Like another wall breaking down with him holding the sledge hammer. Like the first bite of a warm brownie from the oven. It felt good. 

  He presses slow kisses into your neck and moves his large hands to rock your hips against him, “you’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that right?” 

  “Fuck I hope not,” you whisper as you nip at his bare  shoulder,  “I made your favorite cake for tonight and everything.” 

  “Mmm,” Eddie purrs against the column of your throat, “strawberry?” 

  Gathering skin between your teeth you suck a small bruise into his pale neck, tongue swirling soft then firm, his pretty noises filling the bedroom walls. 

  “Yep,” you breathe with swollen lips, and popping the ‘p’, “extra frosting.”

  “Lady evil at it again,” Eddie teases, capturing your lips into a hungry kiss, his hands scoring down your back and bringing your hips impossibly closer to where you were both aching. 

  You giggle as he breaks away, and tickles your sides. He flips you onto the bed. The bulb of his nose wedging between your neck and shoulder as his hips hold you in place, his fingers dig into your armpits, and your ribs. 

  You laugh until your face is red and your neck is slick and painted with a stain of raspberry teeth marks and the lap of his tongue licking the bites better. 

  He gives you a wicked grin, out of breath and his lips swollen, his demeanor changes into something serious. 

He holds his hand on your cheek, sweeping your skin delicately with the pad of his thumb, holding you so gently as if you were made of porcelain, “I’m gonna make you my wife.” 

  Your fingernails scratch lightly down his chest, skipping over the tattoo of little angel wings and a halo for the unborn child you didn’t get the luxury of holding, matching the one on your inner arm. The date etched below in Eddie’s own handwriting. 

  It wasn’t the only new tattoo he had gotten since that day.

  He also had a mockup of a cartoon lady, devil horns on her head and a long black demon tail wagging behind her, that sat on his bicep. A pout identical to yours on her pretty little face, arms crossed in a fit.  ‘my girl’ in old English font beneath her little stiletto heels. 

  Your fingertips trace the lines of blank ink on his chest. And you lift your eyes to his. 

  Opening your soul to him for the millionth time, spreading its wings and joining with his into that dream land he swore he’d take you to, dancing on the rings of Saturn, bathing in the springs of Jupiter. 

  He smiles softly and so do you, heart soaring and beating fast, “about damn time,” you whisper softly just before his lips close around yours.

  Although your life would never be the same after that awful day, the one you were crafting and coloring outside the straight black lines with Eddie by your side, was pretty damn great. 

  And you wouldn’t change a thing.

🤧

🏷️

@bebe07011 @dashingdeb16 @hiscrimsonangel @luxaeterna13 @enam3l

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #honey I’m home series

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dow promised to turn sneakers into playground surfaces, then dumped them in Indonesia

Dow Chemicals plastered Singapore with ads for its sneaker recycling program, promising to turn old shoes into playground tracks. But the shoes it collected in its “recycling” bins were illegally dumped in Indonesia. This isn’t an aberration: it’s how nearly all plastic recycling has always worked.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/26/career-criminals/#fool-me-twice-three-times-four-times-a-hundred-times

Plastic recycling’s origin story starts in 1973, when Exxon’s scientists concluded that plastic recycling would never, ever be cost-effective (#ExxonKnew about this, too). Exxon sprang into action: they popularized the recycling circular arrow logo and backed “anti-littering” campaigns that blamed the rising tide of immortal, toxic garbage on peoples’ laziness.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/14/they-knew/#doing-it-again

Remember the campaign where an Italian guy dressed like a Native American shed a single tear as he contemplated plastic litter? Funded by the plastic industry, as a way of shifting blame for plastic waste from the wealthy, powerful corporations who lied about plastics recycling to the individuals who believed their lies:

https://www.chicagotribune.com/opinion/commentary/ct-perspec-indian-crying-environment-ads-pollution-1123-20171113-story.html

When I was a kid in Ontario, we had centralized, regulated, reusable bottle depots — beer and soda bottles came in standard sizes, differentiated by paper labels that could be pressure-washed off. When you were done with your bottle, you returned it for a deposit and it got washed and returned to bottlers to be refilled again and again and again.

After intense lobbying from soda companies, brewers and the plastic industry, that program was replaced with curbside “blue boxes” that promised to recycle our plastic waste. 90% of the plastics created has never been — and will never be — recycled. Today, the plastic industry plans on tripling the amount of single-use plastic in use worldwide:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/26/plastic-fatalistic/#recycled-lies

You know those ads from companies like Bluetriton (formerly “Nestle Waters”) that promise that your single-use plastic bottles are “100% recyclable…and can be used for new bottles and all sorts of new, reusable things?”

Bluetriton is a private equity-backed rollup that has absorbed most of the bottled water companies you’re familiar with, including Poland Spring, Pure Life, Splash, Ozarka, and Arrowhead. When they were sued in DC for making false claims about their “recyclable” water-bottles, their defense was that these were “non-actionable puffery.” According to Bluetriton, when it described itself as “a guardian of sustainable resources” and “a company who, at its core, cares about water,” it was being “vague and hyperbolic.”

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/26/plastic-fatalistic/#recycled-lies

With this high standard for plastic recycling, Dow’s Singapore scam shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it seems to have surprised the government of Singapore. Writing for Reuters, Joe Brock, Yuddy Cahya Budiman and Joseph Campbell describe how they caught Dow red-handed:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/global-plastic-dow-shoes/

The method is actually pretty straightforward: Reuters hid tracking devices in cavities in the soles of sneakers, dropped them in one of Dow’s collection bins, and then followed them. The shoes were passed onto Dow’s subcontractor, Yok Impex Pte Ltd, who sent them hopping from island to island throughout Indonesia, until they ended up in junk-markets.

Not all the shoes, though — one pair was simply moved from Dow’s collection bin to a donation bin at a Singaporean community center. Of the 11 pairs that Reuters tracked, not one ended up at a recycling facility. So much for Dow’s slogan: “Others see an old shoe. We see the future.”

Dow blamed all this on Yok Impex, but didn’t explain why its “recycling” program involved a company whose sole trade is exporting used clothing. Dow promised to cancel its deal with Yok Impex, but Yok Impex’s accountant told Reuters that the deal would be remain in place until the end of the contract. Yok Impex, meanwhile, shifted the blame to the low-waged women who sort through the clothing donations it takes in from across Singapore.

Indonesia bans bulk imports of used clothes, on the grounds that used clothes are unhygenic, displace the local textiles industry, and shipments contain high volumes of waste that ends up in Indonesian incinerators, landfills and rivers.

In other words, Singaporeans thought they were saving the planet by putting their shoes in Dow bins, but they were really sending those shoes on a long journey to an unlicensed dump. Dow enlisted schoolchildren in used-shoe collection drives, making upbeat videos that featured students like Zhang Youjia boasting that they “contributed 15 pairs of shoes.”

Dow does this all the time. In 2021, Dow’s “breakthrough technology to turn plastic waste into clean fuel” in Idaho was revealed to be a plain old incinerator:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/environment-plastic-oil-recycling/

Also in 2021, in India, a Dow program to “use high-tech machinery to transform the [plastic from the Ganges] into clean fuel” was revealed to have ceased operations — but was still collecting plastic and promising that it was all being turned into fuel:

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-environment-plastic-insight-idUSKBN29N024

Dow operates a nearly identical “shoe recycling” program in neighboring Malaysia, and did not return Reuters’ requests for comment as to whether the shoes collected for “recycling” in the far more populous nation were also being illegally dumped offshore.

The global business lobby loves the idea of “personal responsibility” and its evil twin, “caveat emptor.” Its pet economists worship the idea of “revealed preferences,” claiming that when we use plastic, we may claim that we don’t want to have our bodies poisoned with immortal, toxic microplastics, that we don’t want our land and waters despoiled — but we actually love it, because otherwise we’d “vote with our wallets” for something else.

The obvious advantage of telling people to vote with their wallets is that the less money you have in your wallet, the fewer votes you get. Companies like Dow have used their access to the capital markets (a fancy phrase for “rich people”) to gobble up their competitors, eliminating “wasteful competition” and piling up massive profits. Those profits are laundered into policy — like replacing Ontario’s zero-waste refillable bottle system with a “recycling” system that sent plastics to the ends of the Earth to be set on fire or buried or dumped in the sea.

The ruling class’s pet economists have a name for this policy laundering: they call it “regulatory capture.” Now, when you hear “regulatory capture,” you might think about companies that get so big that they are able to boss governments around, with the obvious answer that companies need to be regulated before they get too big to jail:

https://doctorow.medium.com/small-government-fd5870a9462e

But that’s not how elite economists talk about regulatory capture: for them, capture starts with the very existence of regulators. For them, any government agency that proposes to protect the public from corporate fraud and murder inevitably becomes an agent of the corporations it is supposed to rein in, so the only answer is to eliminate regulators altogether:

https://doctorow.medium.com/regulatory-capture-59b2013e2526

This nihilism lets rich people blame the rest of us for their sins: “if you didn’t want your children to roast or freeze to death in the climate emergency, you should have sold your car and used the subway (that we bribed your city not to build).”

Nihilism is contagious. Think of the music industry: before Napster, 80% of the music ever recorded was not for sale, banished to the scrapheap of history and the vaults of record companies who paid farcically low sums to their artists.

During the File Sharing Wars, listeners were excoriated for failing to pay for music — much of which wasn’t for sale in the first place. But today, fans overwhelmingly pay for Spotify, a streaming service that notoriously pays musicians infinitesimal sums for their work.

Spotify is a creature of the Big Three labels — Sony, Universal and Warner — who own 70% of all the world’s recorded music copyrights and 65% of all the world’s music publishing. The rock-bottom per-stream prices that Spotify pays were set by the Big Three. Why would the labels want less money from Spotify?

Simple: as co-owners of Spotify, they make more money when Spotify pays less for music. Musicians have a claim on the money they take out of Spotify as royalties — but dividends, buybacks and capital gains from Spotify are the labels’ to use as they see fit. They can share that bounty with some artists, all artists, or no artists.

Not only that, but the Big Three’s deal with Spotify includes a “most favored nation” clause, which means that the independent artists who aren’t under Sony/UMG/Warner’s thumb have to take the rock-bottom rate the Big Three insisted on — likewise the small labels who compete with the Big Three. The difference is that none of these artists and small labels have massive portfolios of Spotify stock, nor do they get free advertising on Spotify, or free inclusion on hot Spotify playlists, or monthly minimum payouts from Spotify.

The idea that we shop at the wrong kind of monopolist in the wrong way is a recipe for absolute despair. It doesn’t matter whether you listen to music with the Big Tech-owned monopoly service (Youtube) or the Big Content-owned monopoly service (Spotify). The money you hand over to these giant companies goes to artists the same way that the sneakers you put in a Dow collection bin goes to a recycling plant.

Think of the billions of human labor hours we all spent washing and sorting our plastics for a recycling program that didn’t exist and will never exist — imagine if we’d spent that time and energy demanding that our politicians hold petrochemical companies to account instead.

At the end of Break ’Em Up, Zephyr Teachout’s outstanding 2020 book on monopolies, Teachout has some choice words for “consumerism” as a theory of change. She writes that if you’re on your way to a protest against a new Amazon warehouse but you never make it because you waste too much time looking for a mom-and-pop stationers to sell you a marker to write your protest sign, Amazon wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

The problem isn’t that you shop the wrong way. Yes, by all means, support the creators and producers you care about in the way that they prefer, but keep your eye on the prize. Structural problems don’t have individual solutions. The problem isn’t that you have chosen single-use plastics — it’s that in our world everything for sale is packaged in single-use plastics. The problem isn’t that you’ve bought a subscription to the wrong music streaming service — it’s that labels have been allowed to buy all their competitors, creators’ unions have been smashed and degraded, and giant accounting scams by big companies generate minuscule fines.

The good news is that after 40 years of despair inducing regulatory nihilism and “vote with your wallet” talk, we’re finally paying attention to systemic problems, with a new generation of trustbusting radicals working around the world to end corporate impunity.

Dow is a repeat offender. A repeat, repeat offender. Chrissakes, they’re the linear descendants of Union Carbide, the company that poisoned Bhopal:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bhopal_disaster

They shouldn’t be trusted to run a lemonade stand, let alone a “recycling” program. The same goes for Big Tech and Big Content company and the markets for creative labor. These companies have repeatedly demonstrated their unfitness, their habitual deception and immorality. These companies have captured their regulators, repeatedly, so we need better regulators — and weaker companies.

The thing I love about Teachout’s book is that it talks about what we should be demanding from our governments — it’s a manifesto for a movement against corporate power, not a movement for “responsible consumerism.” That was the template that Rebecca Giblin and I followed when we wrote Chokepoint Capitalism, our book about the brutal, corrupt creative labor market:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

We have a chapter on Spotify (multiple chapters, in fact!). For our audiobook, we made that chapter a “Spotify Exclusive” — it’s the only part of the book you can get on Spotify, and it’s free:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

Next Thu (Mar 2) I’ll be in Brussels for Antitrust, Regulation and the Political Economy, along with a who’s-who of European and US trustbusters. It’s livestreamed, and both in-person and virtual attendance are free. On Fri (Mar 3), I’ll be in Graz for the Elevate Festival.

[Image ID: A woman kneeling to tie her running shoe. She stands on a background of plastic waste. In the top right corner is the logo for Dow chemicals. Below it is the Dow slogan, 'Others see an old shoe. We see the future.']

#pluralistic

[thehopefuljournalist]

This article isn't solely about the environment, but some of the things there are, so I'll summarize them for you :)

Bhutan and India boosted tiger numbers

According to Bhutan's latest tiger census, tigers have increased their population from 103 to 131 since 2015 - which is a rise of 27 per-cent.

This follows the country's major interventions to help the wild tiger population, including community based tiger conservation programmes, habitat improvement and human-wildlife conflict management projects. 

Tigers are, of course, still at risk, but Bhutan's dedication to help and preserve their population is inspiring.

India has also reported a six pre-cent rise in their wild tiger population since last year. The country is believed to be populated by 3,682 tigers now.

Germany’s €49 travel pass

A part of a green new policy in Germany, a €49 (£42)-a-month pass allowing unlimited travel on buses and trains in Germany. 

This will result in about 25 per-cent rise (per year) in the numbers of people choosing public transport instead of cars - a low carbon way of transport (according to the national rail operator Deutsche Bahn (DB)). 

The Deutschlandticket launched on 1 May as a plan to lower the cost of living and encourage people to take the train instead of driving.

It seems to already have some great results: The Association of German Transport Companies says that almost 10 million people had used the pass by the end of June. DB has also said that trains to holiday destinations were busier this summer.

UK crop yields rose despite a fall in fertiliser use

 New data from the UK’s Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) revealed that UK crop yields rose last year, despite a sharp decline in fossil fuel fertiliser use. Many believed that these fertilisers were necessary, but this data proves that belief wrong.

According to Defra, wheat, barley, oilseed rape and sugar beet yields rose by 2.4 per cent in 2022, while fertiliser use fell by a reported 27 per cent. 

These artificial fertilisers are made using natural gas, and because the prices soared in 2022, following Russia's invasion of Ukraine, farmers had to either use much less of them, or embrace more natural alternatives.

England’s plastic bag charge was hailed a success

Since the government in England forced supermarkets to charge 5p a plastic bag, there's been a 98 per-cent reduction of single use plastic bags.

That’s according to figures from the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, which introduced the charge in 2015, then increased it to 10p in 2021. 

Environmental campaigners welcomed the figures, but urged the UK government not to row back on other green policies, including a deposit return scheme for plastic bottles and rules to make plastic producers contribute to clean-up costs. Both policies have been delayed until 2025. 

Have a good weekend everyone!

Let me know, what good news have yo read or heard about lately?

#climate change #climate #hope #good news #more to come #climate emergency #news #climate justice #hopeful #positive news

[yyh4ever]

Yu Yu Hakusho WEBKUJI Volume 11

~capture a moment~

The 11th Yu Yu Hakusho Web Lottery has been announced! The boys are sexy and gorgeous.

Official Site: WEBKUJI

Lottery type: BOX type

Sales period: April 27 to June 11, 2024

Shipping: mid to late August 2024

Price: 750 yen/ticket

Prizes:

Prize A: BIG die-cut Cushion

Size: H300mm x W700mm

Material: Suede, filling

Prize B: BIG Acrylic Stands (7 types)

Size: Maximum height 235mm (depending on the chara)

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick)

Price C: Tumblers (6 types)

Size: H135mm x φ85mm

Material: PP

Prize D: Lid Mascots (14 types)

A revival item using illustrations from past WEB lotteries! You can put it on the lid of a plastic bottle!

Acrylic size: H70mm x W50 / Cap size: H16.7mm x φ34

Body material: Acrylic (3mm thick) / Cap part: PE

Prize E: A4 Art Board (8 types)

The English quotes are really cool!

Size: H297mm x W210mm (A4)

Material: Cardboard (interleaving paper)

Prize F: Large Can Badges (7 types)

Size: φ76mm

Material: Tinplate

Benefits:

Last Win: Life-size Tapestries (7 types, available only online)

If you draw all the tickets in the box, you will receive a tapestry! You can choose your favorite character from a total of 7 types.

Size: H1880mm x W700mm

Material: Polyester (suede)

Last Win: Younger Toguro Cushion (available only at stores)

If you draw all the tickets in the box, you will receive a Younger Toguro die-cut cushion!

The back of Younger Toguro's cushion comes with his famous quote: "Pure strength beyond technique - that's power!! ".

Gift Campaign: Photo Chance

Those who get the in-store limited "last win prize" (Younger Toguro Cushion) can enter the campaign to win an Elder Toguro die-cut cushion. 10 people will be randomly selected from among the customers.

To participate, you need to follow the WEBKUJI X account and post a photo of the Younger Toguro Cushion with the hashtags: #幽遊白書 and #WEBくじ_フォトチャン

The back of Elder Toguro's cushion comes with his famous quote: "I often break my promises".

Purchase Bonus: Postcard (7 types)

You will receive a random postcard for every 5 items purchased per transaction!

Size: H148mm x W100mm

Material: Paper

One more Chance: Acrylic Panel

10 people will be randomly selected from among the customers who purchased lottery tickets to receive an acrylic panel as a gift! Those who purchased the tickets at the store can apply using the serial code on the lottery ticket stub.

Size: H150mm x W235mm

Material: Acrylic (3mm thick), metal (foot parts)

#Yu Yu Hakusho WEBKUJI Volume 11 ~capture a moment~ #Yusuke Urameshi #Kurama #Hiei #Youko Kurama #Kazuma Kuwabara #Older Toguro #Younger Toguro #Toguro Brothers

[selkies-world]

Sign the petition to demand the creation of a new international law requiring fast-fashion garments to come with a statement of the human cost and environmental harm caused by their creation.

We all know fast fashion is bad for the planet - slave labor, environmental waste, air and water pollution, and unsustainable practices are just a few of the ways they impact our planet, our health and our lives. To date, the fast fashion industry is the 2nd largest consumer of water and is single-handedly responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions (that's more than all international flights and maritime shipping across a year combined). Even the simple act of washing these clothes releases 500,000 tons of microfibers into the ocean each year - that's equal to 50,000 plastic bottles. Fast-fashion is the 3rd leading cause of the climate crises we face, yet is rarely addressed.

Knowing these stats is one thing, and understanding them is important. Being aware of them is somewhat informative. But as long as we keep turning a blind eye to the issue, the stats are only going to get worse, and nothing will change for the better. Ignoring the issue or brushing it under the rug won't help anything. So what if we could see the real-world damage done by each of the garments we buy?

In the same way that cigarette packets have shown the harm their products do to our bodies ("SMOKING KILLS", lung cancer visualizations, etc.), what if fast fashion manufacturers & retailers had to show the harm their products do to our planet?

[Image ID: A type-writer font has been used on a brown craft paper background. The text reads: "32 animals lost their habitat to the field where my crops were planted - 2 of those animals are already endangered species. 2,700 litres of water were used in my production. I was made in a sweatshop enslaving men and women aged 16 - 45, and children aged 6 - 14. I contain 0.22kg of carbon dioxide dye." End ID.]

This is a mock-up of a label / statement for a single T-shirt, with researched statistics and educated estimates for the information I couldn't find a calculated answer for.

Now imagine labels / statements like this for every single piece of clothing: how many toxic chemicals are in those new jeans? How many litres of water did that shirt take to make? How many animals were skinned to make those cute fur-trimmed boots? How many children made that jumper? How many people were forcibly removed from their homes, so production companies could plant crops to grow the materials used in clothes manufacturing? How many families were evicted for no reason other than corporate greed? How many trees were cut down? How many animals were displaced or killed?

Would you really want to buy those items of clothing if the answers to those questions were staring you in the face?

If this information was stated in clear, accessible ways on both the website and the ticket on the actual garment, this would dramatically reduce the number of people buying fast fashion items. It would also reduce the profits being made by fast fashion companies, and could lead to many of them being forced to choose between changing and becoming sustainable, eco-froendly and ethical brands, or shutting down due to being boycotted.

Who would really want to knowingly buy things that are made by slaves, or which cost a family their home, or which contributed to deforestation? Who would continue to buy fast fashion items knowing this is the damage caused by them, when sustainable alternatives are an option?

Whether it's second-hand fashion at affordable prices, or investing more money in sustainable products which were made with high ethical standards and which cost more money due to the fact their price accounts for the time it took a person to make that item... we can say for certain that sustainable shopping is going to become much more popular if people know how important that change is. Sustainable items last much longer than fast-fashion items, which by design are created to self-destruct, as they are made to be worn a few times and then discarded in order to be replaced by the next trend's items - and as trends speed up, these items become weaker and weaker. This then leads to people spending more money in order to keep up with the newest trends, and to keep replacing clothes they throw out after a few washes.

In contrast, buying sustainable items which are designed to last years means people won't have to spend money on new clothes every few weeks, which means they'll ultimately save money in the long term and actually be able to afford those pricier items which will last much, much longer.

Now, despite the amount of harm the fast-fashion industry causes to people and the environment, the last thing we should be doing is getting angry at those who continue to buy them. Being the target of anger doesn't make large populations change their behaviour - even a cursory look through history books will tell us that much. Neither does being the target of resentment or blame.

But guilt? Shame? Those are two of the most powerful emotions to magnify when you want change to happen in waves.

And frankly, if people feel ashamed of buying something, or if buying something makes them feel guilty... they're going to stop buying it.

Those aren't the only emotions that should be felt, though. Because only feeling guilt and shame leads to feeling hopeless, scared, anxious and depressed. And we don't want that. No matter how bad things get... we don't want that.

The only other emotions to provoke are hope and pride.

If there's no hope for the future, how can anyone be expected to imagine a better one?

You wouldn't think it, what with all the climate crises and disasters we experience around the world and the total lack of commitment made by billionaires, multimillion-dollar companies and corporations and politicians.

But it's true. Scientists in Scotland have discovered bacteria which eat plastic and speed up the decomposition of it. ‘Ecocide’ is now punishable by law. Some countries within the EU are already close to meeting their 2030 goals years ahead of schedule! Thanks to scientists and small, individual changes made on a massive scale by ordinary people who are making small adjustments to our everyday choices, we can and are healing most of the ozone layer before 2050. That is something we should all feel incredibly proud of.

So imagine how much we could speed that process up if more people made those changes. Imagine how much sooner we could heal our planet if billions of people made those changes, rather than millions. Imagine how much sooner we could be seeing the effects of a healthier planet if fast fashion companies were forced to choose between going green and transparent, or closing altogether due to a lack of interest from consumers. Imagine the changes we could create if corporations made massive changes in a short amount of time, in order to save their own profits.

Imagine more labels like this, sitting alongside each other on every single piece of fast fashion clothing. A statement like this beneath every item of clothing on fast fashion websites, which transparently states the harm done.

If every single fast-fashion company and store had to display this on their clothing, on their racks, on their websites, and if there were legal punishments for those who tried to evade or lie... fashion would turn a lot greener very quickly. We'd start seeing more and more labels with "I'm made from 6 plastic bottles! I used to be a newspaper! I had 0 pesticides used on me in my production! I only contain natural dye made from berries, beans and sustainably grown flowers. I was made from apple skins and corn! The people who made me get to go home to their families every night, have days off and the adults made £150.35 each in 1 week! The animal who made the wool for me is free-range and well-cared for! I came from a small family farm, and was created with a closed-loop water system!”

That'd be a much better civilisation to shop in, don't you agree?

That is hope for the future.

That is motivation, which can fuel ordinary people to do extraordinary things and create changes they thought were impossible.

If you want to be a part of creating this change, sign the Change.org petition which demands the the creation and implementation of an international law which will require all fast-fashion products to be displayed with a statement which states the harm done to people and the planet by that garment being made & shipped.

#fast fashion #fashion #climate crisis #climate change #climate action #climate catastrophe #environmentalism #environment #environmetalists #enviromental #sustainability #sustainable #economy #ecofriendly #ecosystem #europe #earth #ecommerce #society #socialist #sociology #social justice #social media #slave labor #children #child labor #children's rights #environmental justice #petition #petitions

[cookies-over-yonder]

cutting class

During class Riz's teacher sends him to see Jawbone, and he doesn't know why.

ao3

“Jawbone?”

A most unexpected head pokes its way in the doorway, and Jawbone looks up from his desk to see Riz Gukgak finally paying a visit.

“Riz! Come on in, you can just shut the door behind you,” Jawbone says, getting up from his desk to sit in his chair across the couch.

“My teacher sent me here,” Riz says, following Jawbone’s instructions. “I’m not too sure why, I mean, it’s not like my grades will drop if I miss a few minutes of one class, but you never know, right? Maybe it was so you could help me work on my plans for the Bad Kids to all get into the same college, but I—I didn’t tell her about that, so no, that doesn’t make any sense. Did—did you know anything? Do you—did you…”

Riz takes a sip from his rather large water bottle, hand trembling as he drinks from it.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Riz?” Jawbone gestures to the couch across from him.

Riz puts his bottle back in his backpack and sits, hands balled into fists and pressed against his knees, and he’s wound so tight he’s shaking all over.

“You look a little tense, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s—” Riz swipes at the sweat on his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, “Everything’s fine. Maybe I was sent here so you could help me work on Kristen’s campaign? I think I’ve got it handled though, so I’m not really sure why—”

“Riz.”

“Yeah?”

“Take a breath.”

“What?” Riz asks, eyes no longer darting around the room, locked with Jawbone’s.

“Take a deep breath in right now for me.”

Riz does as followed, shutting his eyes.

“Now let it out nice and slow.”

He sighs, fingers uncurling a bit against his knees.

He opens his eyes.

“Do you know why I was sent here? Because whatever it is, I really need to get back to class.”

He pulls the bottle out again and takes another swig of whatever’s inside.

“Is that water?” Jawbone asks.

“It’s coffee.”

“Kid, you should not be drinking that much coffee,” Jawbone says, opening up a little cooler under his desk and tossing Riz a plastic bottle of water.

“Wha—how else am I gonna stay awake?” he asks, just barely catching it.

“How many hours of sleep do you usually get?”

“Mm..” Riz tilts his head in thought. “I’d say, usually somewhere between zero and three. I think two is my sweet spot, though.”

“I think your teacher might’a sent you here ‘cause they were worried ‘bout you.”

“What? I—I’ve got perfect scores on all of my tests, and I’ve never missed an assignment—I would never—”

“Not worried ‘bout your grades. Worried ‘bout you .”

“ Why? ” he asks, and Jawbone notices him squeezing the water bottle so hard he fears it might burst.

“Simple. You seem stressed, and I know what you’re about to say, like you said last time, some stress can be good, sure.”

“It is.”

“Too much stress isn’t.”

Riz hisses, baring his fangs and glaring daggers.

“I know you don’t like hearing it, but it’s true, alright? I’ve seen how many clubs you’ve signed up for in addition to your campaign managing and your regular coursework and it’s a lot, and it’s clearly weighing on you.”

“I’m staying on top of everything just fine, Jawbone.”

“What’d your teacher say when they sent you to see me?”

“Uh… ‘Riz, you don’t look so good,’ and then I told her I was, and then she asked if everything was okay, and I said it was, and then she said, ‘how about you go and see Jawbone,’ and I said, ‘I’m fine,’ and then she said, ‘don’t hiss at me, I’m your teacher, and I’m asking you to go see Jawbone for me,’ and then I apologized, and then I came here.”

“Mhm, okay.”

“Can I leave now?”

“How are things at home?”

“Fine.”

“Is there a reason why you signed up for all these clubs?”

Jawbone wouldn’t expect Riz to try and avoid staying home for any reason in particular, but it doesn’t hurt to check.

“Looks good on applications. I—I’m not just gonna look past scholarship opportunities ‘cause it’s too much work. I can do all the work.” Riz squeezes the waterbottle harder.

Riz’s trembling is worse now, and Jawbone feels a little guilty in pushing so far, but at the same time, he’s still being fairly receptive, so it’s worth it to keep going.

“Is everything okay money-wise at home?” he asks, careful to keep his voice low and gentle.

Riz hisses again. “Do you really need to know all of this!?” he snaps, eyes wide and wild. “You’re a guidance counsellor, not some—some fucking interrogator!”

His claws pierce the bottle, and water shoots out of it, spraying at both of them. He throws it to the ground, and sucks in a breath, clawing at his hair.

“Riz, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m asking questions because I wanna help you.”

“You can’t.” he says, glaring again, but when they lock eyes, Jawbone can see tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he deflates, “Just—just—sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. Sorry,” Riz stutters out between gasps.

“It’s okay, kid. I know you’re dealing with a lot, and I’m not judging you for it.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Riz whispers, shaking his hands out before burying his head in them, though his rapid breathing betrays him.

“It’s okay if you’re not, too,” Jawbone says softly.

Riz shakes his head. “It's not. I—I have to keep up with everything so all of us can get into college together—” he gasps, “—I don’t have time for anything else—” he gasps, “—I don’t have time for breakdowns—” he presses his palms against his eyes, and it’s clear he’s holding back a sob when he says, “—I’m used to being anxious anyway. It’s nothing new.”

“Riz, you’re allowed to cry in here if you need to. It might even make you feel better.”

Riz draws his knees to his chest and buries his face in them, pressing his hands against the back of his head.

And he breaks down crying. Giving in to his needs and letting it all out.

“It’s so stupid!” he sobs, “Why should my education be barred behind a paywall? I usually only sleep a couple hours, but I think I’ve been riding on half an hour for three days. And it’s only nightmares, but that’s fine! It’s fine! I—I—I wake up and I can’t breathe, but I always get over it eventually, so it’s fine!”

The sobs die down, and they’re replaced by the sound of pained hyperventilation.

“Riz, hey, I need you to breathe, okay?”

Riz whines, “I can’t—fuck— fuck ! ”

He lifts his head from his knees and swipes at the sweat on his face, eyes shut and breathing strained.

“Riz, can you hear me? You’re having a panic attack.”

“I know,” he forces out, flapping his hands and then pulling at his hair.

“Okay, Riz, listen here, I want you to follow along with me, okay?”

Riz nods.

“Can you look at me?”

Riz opens his eyes and stares back at Jawbone in a complete contrast to his glares from earlier. He sees fear.

“I want you to try and breathe in with me for four seconds. I’m gonna count, alright?”

Riz nods again.

Jawbone counts, and Riz tries his best to take in a breath.

“Now hold it.”

He does.

“And let it out. Good. Now we’re gonna do that again, alright?”

They do it a few more times, and when Jawbone sees Riz’s shoulders relax a little, he asks, “You feeling any better?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” he glances away. “Sorry. About that.”

“No need to apologize about your brain making things harder for you.”

“Right,” he mutters, scratching at his arms and staring at the floor.

“Now, you said you knew what was going on. Does that happen to you often?” Jawbone asks, grabbing another bottle of water and handing it to him. This time he actually takes a sip.

“What, panic attacks?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I mean, yeah? But it’s only like, well, it used to be a few times a week, but now it’s more like twice a day, since, uh, since the school year started, I guess? It’s not, like, that bad, though. Like, I’m fine.”

Riz shrinks into himself a little as he’s talking, his discomfort obvious.

“That sounds pretty bad, kid. Does your mom know?”

He shakes his head. “She’s got enough on her plate. Especially now.”

“It sounds like you’ve got some severe anxiety, kiddo. I might have to talk to your mom about getting you some treatment.”

“ No! ” Riz shouts, throwing his hands out in defence, “I can handle it, it’s fine, I don’t want to cause her even more stress—”

“Riz, deep breaths.”

Riz slows down his breathing once more, setting down his hands.

“Riz, you are worth the worry, you know that? We worry about you because we care about you. We don’t want you to be suffering when we can find a way to help, you got me?”

“Um… okay. I—I got you.”

“You wanna stay here for the rest of class?”

Riz glances at the clock and bites his lip.

“I’ll talk to your teacher, and we can both help you catch up on whatever you missed.”

“Okay. okay,” Riz says, tears sliding down his cheeks again.

“You’re free to lie down on the couch if you’d like, you could even nap, unless you wanted to keep chatting, that is.”

Riz shakes his head.

Jawbone smiles at him, gets up and sits back down at his desk. Riz drinks some more water and then lies down, and Jawbone is pleased to see that he’s out like a light after ten minutes. He grabs a blanket hung over the arm of the couch and drapes it over him, and then he sits back down, dialing Sklonda on the phone.

#fantasy high junior year #fhjy #dimension 20 #d20 #riz gukgak #jawbone o'shaughnessey #hurt/comfort #fanfic #cookies writes and cookies wrongs

[figurecollection]

So, my suruga-ya haul came in that I got during their free shipping campaign. Lots of figure magazines, lots of trading figures, some Lucifer merch, and a Keroro figure I've wanted for a long time.

More pics under the cut.

A lot of figure magazines I am very excited to read and scan. I will upload them to The Internet Archive once I do so, although it might be a while. I'm really excited to post stuff from here on this blog and find some rare GKs. There is also a Mine Yoshizaki artwork and one of the Haruhi Newtype magazines (weak to gay cover)

Here's the full set of Wonda Shot Coffee Haruhi figures. They're really lovely, and also include the only official figure of Sasaki, in the middle. These were a Family Mart exclusive, and the gaps in the packaging would have had a bottle of coffee in them.

Some trading figures; a lot of these are ones I've been meaning to put in my collection for a while. I'm particularly happy with the Saber Konata Nendo petite, the Hypmic Movic set, and the Iwatooshi Koedarize. SMT Mary (far left) came with some broken pieces from her candle, but its nothing some plastic glue can't fix.

Some Lucifer bits for my itabag; his merch is very expensive everywhere for some reason so being able to get it relatively cheap second hand was nice. The bag smelt of cigarettes though lmao.

And my beloved Natsume figure. I've wanted this for a long time. I really did get her at a good price. I'll take more pics of her soon.

#figblogging #talking

[thestylesindependent]

X

Harry Styles’s longtime stylist, Harry Lambert, and his creative director, Molly Hawkins, have had a lot to do with crafting the pop star and actor into one of the era’s top fashion icons. When they joined Styles in launching a company called Pleasing a year and a half ago, they achieved something even more significant, although no flashbulbs were around to capture it. Pleasing’s debut collection, a line of $20 nail polishes inspired by Styles’s own affinity for colorful manicures, was one of the first nail polish to be nearly 100% biodegradable.

Traditional nail polish is made from plastic polymers that break into tiny fragments of microplastic, contributing to pollution. From the start, Hawkins and Lambert were committed to making a version that would naturally decompose. They spent two years finding a laboratory able to work with them on devising a biodegradable formula, and then, in November 2021, they flashed the logo for Pleasing on the wall of the arena outside one of Styles’s concerts in Glendale, Arizona. Days later, when the Pleasing website went live, its first four polish colors—in trendy shades like inky black and bubblegum pink and with quirky names like Granny’s Pink Pearls—sold quickly. Six subsequent collections have launched every few months since then and have seen hero items sell out rapidly as well, while lines have snaked around the block for holiday pop-ups in London, New York, and Los Angeles.

As Pleasing expands into new categories (such as serums, eye shadow, and apparel), Hawkins and Lambert are continuing to push to make products even more eco-friendly, including making brush bristles from castor beans, a renewable resource, rather than petroleum. “We’re incentivizing our partners to keep moving forward,” says Hawkins. “If they can commit to developing a product for us, we can commit to purchasing a [large] quantity of it.”

Still, what makes Pleasing’s products so covetable among fans is that they just look so good. Lambert and Hawkins led the design process for the brand’s signature glass nail polish bottles, which feature globe-shaped tops in metallic and marble colors. “To succeed, the packaging needs to be interesting and exciting,” says Lambert. “We want the products to be so gorgeous that they live on your shelf, not inside your drawer.” To promote each new collection, the duo taps emerging artists to create attractive, color-saturated photography and illustrations. William Waterworth shot Pleasing’s first-ever campaign, for example, while Marisol Muro created the bright, ’70s inspired artwork that accompanied the recent nature-inspired Shroom Bloom nail polish line. Styles himself isn’t intimately involved with product development and doesn’t promote the brand heavily on social media. That’s by design. “At this moment, there are a lot of celebrity brands on the market,” says Lambert. “Pleasing is part of Harry’s world, but we also don’t want to rely on him to be the only reason people buy this product. We want to actually solve problems.”

#harry styles #july 2023 #pleasing #molly Hawkins #harry lambert

[notwiselybuttoowell]

The hair that drops in clumps on the floors of some salons in Kiel, a port city in northern Germany, is swept up to be turned into fabrics that filter oil from water. Parents who want to buy their children cloth nappies instead of disposable ones can apply for grants of up to €200 from the local authorities. At the city’s biggest festival last year, the organisers got rid of single-use cutlery and replaced it with a deposit system.

Germany is famed as a world leader in recycling – and Kiel, as I found out during a visit this summer, has some of the most weird and workable plans in the country to deal with its trash. It is the first German city to be declared “zero waste” by the environmental campaign group Zero Waste Europe. The certificate does not mean it has already stopped throwing things away – far from it – but rather that it has a concrete plan for how to do better.

“It’s one step in the right direction,” says Bettina Aust – a Green party politician who was elected president of Kiel city council in June – over a glass of juice made from apples that had been saved from landing in a supermarket bin. “You have to keep thinking further … You cannot stay still.”

Germany has a complicated relationship with waste. Despite its status as a world leader in recycling, Europe’s biggest economy is also one of its dirtiest. In 2021, the average German generated 646kg of waste, while the average EU citizen generated 530kg. Only in four EU countries – Austria, Luxembourg, Denmark and Belgium – did people throw away more.

Dino Klösen, a manager at Kiel’s waste management company ABK, says trends in the country’s consumption can be seen in its bins. Paper recycling bins that would have once been full of newspapers are now bursting with cardboard from delivery packages. “The weight of paper waste has dropped but the volume keeps rising from online shopping,” he says.

Awash with waste, cities like Kiel are exploring ways to throw away less and recycle more of what it does chuck. The city council has announced projects ranging from a ban on single-use items in public institutions, to installing more public drinking fountains, to teaching schoolchildren about waste. It is also encouraging people to make simple changes to their behaviour such as using solid bars of soap instead of buying plastic bottles of the stuff.

Other proposals are more systemic. The city is trialling a “pay as you throw” system where people are charged only for the rubbish they throw in the mixed waste bin. A report from the European Environment Agency last year found only about 30% of Germany is covered by such a scheme, even though areas that were covered saw an average drop in mixed waste of 25%.

“General waste is the most expensive form of rubbish there is,” says Klösen. “We are trying to motivate citizens to throw less waste in the bin by making them pay less for doing so.”

Even though waste-cutting efforts like Kiel’s are fairly novel in Germany, recycling is firmly rooted in the culture. In 2021, Germans collected more than two-thirds of their municipal solid waste to be repurposed – more than any other country in Europe. They burned most of the rest for energy, and dumped just 1% in landfills (the EU average is 16%).

#kiel #germany #europe #waste #recycling #circular economy #zero-waste

[hellowhisperingstars]

Dungeons and Dragons and Cough Medicine

Summary: You’re sick and Eddie takes care of you while he DM’s from your shared home.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Words: 1431 

Warnings: Reader is sick, Eddie being adorable, pet names, fluff

You felt terrible. A cough rocked your chest as you laid in bed, the covers pulled up to your chin as you shivered. This cold was taking you out. The door to your shared room was left slightly cracked so the light of the living room leaked into the otherwise dark bedroom, along with the voice of the storyteller, your boyfriend. Sniffing you closed your eyes trying to relax and drift off as Eddie wove a tale of wonder and magic for his little group of players. His voice lulled you into a half sleep, enough to get a bit of rest but not enough to do much good to be honest but it was better than staring at the ceiling for hours.  

Eddie had decided earlier that day that since you were sick he didn’t want to leave you alone in the trailer while they played, so after a few phone calls the boys and Erica agreed to come to the house instead of Gareth’s basement where they had moved the club once Eddie had graduated. You had fought with him until you were literally blue in the face about how he should just go to Gareth's as usual since you didn’t want to get them sick, you were already worried about him getting sick but he just waved it off, saying he would feel better if he was here to watch over you and no one minded when he had called. So that’s how you found yourself in this current situation with all the usual suspects sitting around the large dining table you and Eddie had somehow miraculously found room for in your small dining room and you were hiding away in yours and Eddie’s room. Their screams of triumph and their groans of failure are a familiar soundtrack to you by now as Eddie threw plot twist after plot twist at them. 

You grimaced as another cough forced its way out of you leaving your already sore and angry throat completely destroyed. With your left hand you shakily lifted yourself up and searched for the bag of cough drops on the nightstand but found the bag empty and even your glass of water had run dry. “Fuck.” You coughed as you slumped back into the bed burying your face into the pillow.

With every cough that sounded from the room Eddie’s head would turn towards the door a look of worry crossing his features before he went back to the game. It was hard to focus on the campaign with you being so sick in the other room. Taking a look at this watch he nodded his head a moment before looking over at his players with a grin. “Gentlemen, Lady Applejack, we have hit the two hour mark so let's take a twenty minute break.”

Everyone nodded as they stood from the table to stretch, grab drinks and snacks, or head to the bathroom. Gareth pulled a plastic bag from his backpack and passed it off to Eddie. “I tried to find cherry or strawberry but all the store had was orange. But with her cough so bad I figure it’s better than nothing.”

“Thanks man,” Eddie said, taking the cough medicine out of the bag and grinning at him. “How much do I owe you?”

“Not much,” Gareth said, handing him the receipt watching as Eddie put the bottle on the table and pulled out his wallet to give him the cash. “Hope it helps.”

“I’m sure it will. I appreciate you grabbing it for me.”

“I was going to the store anyway.” The younger man shrugged as he put the money into this pocket and went to grab a drink, slapping Eddie on the shoulder as he walked by.

Eddie picked up the bottle and walked into the kitchen, he grabbed a new glass from the cabinet and filled it with water before turning to the bottle of medicine and pouring you the appropriate dose with the little measuring cup on the lid. Leaving it on the kitchen counter he took the two items with him down the hall and used his hip to push open the door of the bedroom. Pushing a few items out of the way he placed the new glass of water and the little medicine cup on the nightstand before he sat on the bed running his hand over your head. “Hey baby, you feeling okay?”

“No,” You mumble into the pillow as you cough again. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“Well I hope not.” Eddie said with a chuckle, leaning over you a bit. “I’d miss you.”

“Not so close Eds.” You groan, leaning as far away as you can. “You’re going to catch this.”

“Then you’ll just have to take care of me.” He said with a kiss to the crown of your head. Sitting back up he grabbed the little cup of cough medicine. “Think you can sit up and take this cough medicine for me?”

“You bought cough medicine?”

“I had Gareth grab it on the way over.”

“How much do I owe him?”

“I already paid him for it. I just need you to take it my love.”

Whining you rolled over slightly using your arms to push yourself into a sitting position, watching as Eddie passed you the little cup. Taking it from him you tossed it back like a shot, praying that you didn’t taste it before handing it back to Eddie who switched it out for the new glass of water he brought for you. 

“Atta girl,” Eddie chirped, brushing your hair from your forehead after you take a few sips of your water. “Good job bub.”

Turning your head to the side away from him you cough into your elbow. Annoyance from the constant coughing playing in your voice. “So over this.”

Eddie grabbed the water cup from you and put it on the nightstand placing his hand on your leg to give you a bit of comfort as you cough. “I know, baby.”

“Gotta pee,” You say quietly as you scoot to the side of the bed letting him pull the blankets away from you. Pushing off the bed you head towards the door smiling at the boys as they stand around the living room not caring if you are just in Eddie’s old Metallica shirt and a pair of his boxers as you head towards the bathroom. After you do your business and wash your hands you open the door and wrap your arms around yourself trying to keep warm as you head back towards the room.

“Wow, Y/N you look like shit.” Dustin said as he smiled at you sympathetically. You and Dustin kinda had that playful annoying sibling mentality.

“You sure know how to charm a girl, Dusty-bun.” You say in a mocking tone, your voice a little scratchy from your sore throat. “Is that attitude how you keep Suzie interested?”

Eddie laughed from the doorway of the bedroom as he gestured for you to head back to bed so you can rest. His hand rubbing up and down on your back as you moved closer only to lean your forehead on his chest. 

The other boys and Erica chuckled at Dustin who just smiled at you. “I like to think it was my charm and my brains.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Henderson.” Eddie said, pushing you back towards the room gently. “Back to bed with you oh sick one.”

“Thanks for the medicine Gareth,” You smile as he nods at you.

“No problem,” Gareth shrugged. “Feel better.”

“Have fun playing your game guys!” You said with a wave over your shoulder as you shuffled back into the room and back under the warmth of the blankets. You smiled up at Eddie with droopy eyes as he leaned over to kiss your forehead after he tucked you back in. 

Pushing his hand through your hair Eddie smiled at you one more time before getting up grabbing the empty glass and the little medicine cup. “Get some rest babe. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Okay,” You said as you snuggled back into a comfortable position. Reaching your hand out for him you stop Eddie in his tracks. “Hey baby?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Kick their asses for me yeah?” You coughed as you closed your eyes, sleep slowly taking you. “Especially Dustin. That butthead.”

“You got it babe.” Eddie said with a chuckle as he left the room placing the door back at its slightly cracked state as he wandered away from the room leaving you to sleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson oneshot #st4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #oneshot

[everythingismadeofchaos]

You know I'm generally against constructing more elaborate industrial systems and infrastructure, except that we're going to need it because population is going up so much, but if we built a national grid of potable water pipeline, we would never have a drought again. Whenever one place is in a drought another place is experiencing flooding and we could compensate for all of this. No it's not as good as just not building in flooding areas and not ruining the ecology of other areas with agriculture and stuff, but it would definitely help us manage the situation, which we're kind of stuck with at this point.

Plus this would prevent exploitation by moneyed interests like factory agriculture from monopolizing the local water supply. Also (I've been ruminating about this for a long time) maybe we could couple this with some kind of national advertising campaign to shift public opinion on bottled water and get people to stop using single-use plastics all the damn time for stuff that comes out of the tap for a nickel per 100 gallons. If everybody had their own stainless water bottle and used it all the time and there were little cleaning stations everywhere where you could clean them out conveniently, would this be good? I'm not sure on balance; I don't know how to do that math.

#imperfect solutions

[thoughtportal]

Single-use plastic bottles are fueling the petrochemical build out, are the greatest source of plastic packaging pollution, and have a clear alternative: the refillable bottle.

At the core of the plastics crisis lies the idea of ‘disposability,’ which we’re tackling through an initiative to bring back the refillable bottle. With this campaign, we will:

Turbo charge deposit return systems (bottle bills) to capture beverage bottles and create the infrastructure needed for a circular system

Call on Coca-Cola and other companies to prioritize reuse and refill, instead of single-use plastic

Win policies that ensure the beverage industry sells a portion of its bottles in reusable containers

Such policies would be among the first binding reusable packaging targets in the US and the world. Overall, this policy-forward solution will divert billions of plastic bottles from landfills and the environment and lower greenhouse gas emissions, while demonstrating how we can build a reusable economy.

#call to action #pollution #coca cola #plastic bottles #Youtube

[blackestnight]

what's in my bag: hopeless nerd edition

by popular demand (read: like three people), have the contents of my bag when i'm playing ttrpgs in person!

in no particular order:

laptop. i use digital character sheets for most of the games i play, mainly so i don't have to do math every time i level up. pf2 (my preferred ttrpg system) also has specific restrictions for organized play, and the digital tool i use has a settings toggle for society-compliant characters, which is super handy. i can also keep tabs open for quick rules/item lookups.

case, etc. i keep my laptop in a soft sleeve that comes with a pocket for the charger, a wireless mouse, and a tablet pen. the laptop is a 2-in-1, so depending on available table space i might fold it up and keep it in my lap in tablet mode, using the pen to navigate my character sheet instead of the mouse.

power bank. a relatively new addition. outlet space is always at a premium at events, and while my laptop's battery is pretty good, my phone is old and the battery is starting to give out, so better safe than sorry. i got this power pack for like $40 at meijer and it's great.

binder. for holding chronicle sheets (basically after-session rewards handouts for organized play). i have different folders for each character. i also try to keep hard copies of character sheets in case of technological or internet failure, but uh. i usually. forget. oops.

gum. usually with me wherever i go anyway. it's good for mitigating the takeout breath after ordering dinner. also helps mitigate distracted snacking.

water bottle. hydrate or die-drate, bitch.

pens and pencils. even as a person who uses digital sheets, you need pencils. i don't care who you are. if nothing else, you may end up needing to play a pre-generated character and keep track of HP, and you don't want to be the asshole marking up someone else's sheets in pen. i prefer pens for my own note-taking and filling out chronicle sheets, but i always keep a few pencils (a nice one for me and shitty ones to loan to other people).

miniatures. not strictly necessary. not all games use physical minis and maps for tactical combat, and small things like coins, bottle caps, extra dice, or (especially for enemies) candies are all mainstays of the tradition. i don't always bring mine to regular home campaign sessions, but for society play and cons i keep them in a little plastic tacklebox. i have some fancy ~custom~ minis for long-running characters, and more generic plastic ones, plus some poker chips and bases for things like pets, mounts, and summons.

dice. clickety clackety, i roll to attackity. my dice collection is extensive and nearly all blue (gasp). "but cyan," you ask, "do you actually need to bring that many dice?" yes. the most superstitious people you will ever meet are theatre nerds and tabletop gamers. you need several sets on hand to combat the Dice Curse. (or loan to other players. or roll fireballs. et cetera.) my dice bag was handmade for me by my best friend in high school, based on my first ever d&d character, and i still use it all the time. for events where i'll be able to spread out more, or for home games, i also have a dice vault with a built-in tray.

tray. to keep my dice from running away, or getting damaged on the table (or damaging the table if we're talking metal dice). lays flat when unsnapped for easy transport. also, it's a kitty!

notebooks. i usually have a couple on me for different purposes. the skull notebook is for session notes—which i don't usually take, WHICH IS BAD, and i'm trying to get into the habit. i'll write shorthand bullet notes during the session and then tidy up/convert into better summaries in a digital notebook later. the sticker-fied (yes, i put stickers on basically all of my possessions) is for brainstorming and note-taking for my homebrew campaign, because nothing is quite as inspiring as a weekend of getting tormented by other GMs.

book. for downtime/between sessions. the nice thing about tabletop cons is that there's always a chair somewhere.

and that's basically it! i might swap a couple things out if i'm running as a GM, but as a player this is my go-to.

and if you're looking at this and going, "where are the rulebooks?" the answer is i usually don't bring them with me in a physical format when i'm traveling. for PF2, i have access to all the PDFs, but Archives of Nethys and PF2 Easy are both fantastic (and FREE) digital rules references. i prefer Easy for searching items and spells, but AoN is an unparalleled rules resource, and they work directly with paizo to update the rules with each errata release. it has every rule, item, spell, creature, and character option from every book, with no paywalls or ads. the only thing you can't get are official maps or encounter blocks from the adventure paths. check it out if you're interested in playing!

#cyan's ttrpg adventures #journal #HEY LOOK. STUFF.

[oneinanarmy]

#PurpleCleaningPower for ARMY's 10th Birthday Anniversary!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY🥳#BTSARMY💜!! To celebrate our nameday, we will support Trash Hero World and together create a sustainable future by helping reduce plastic pollution and encourage long-term behavioral change.

Trash Hero is a global movement run by volunteers. Its aim is to unite communities to clean and reduce waste in the environment, create a sustainable future through projects that help reduce plastic pollution and encourage long-term behavioral change. Founded in Thailand in December 2013, it is now active in 139 locations worldwide.

“The Trash Hero Way“ Be the change: lead by example, showing not telling people what to do and being positive and respectful in thoughts, words and actions. Be credible: work independently, earn people’s trust and avoid conflicts of interest. Be selfless: work for the public benefit, not for personal gain. Stay humble and put mission before ego. Be responsible: act transparently and be accountable for decisions and actions. Think global, act local: understand the big picture and the solutions needed, but start the change where you live.

Weekly Cleanup Program: With the support of local businesses, people come together once a week to pick up rubbish. There is no cost nor need to sign-up for volunteers. Participating local businesses each week generously donate gloves and trash bags, food and beverages, and transportation when needed. All donations are given in kind, the chapters never take any money. 

Bottles and Bags Program: Trash Hero provides high quality stainless steel water bottles to local businesses at cost price. Local businesses can then sell those bottles to customers with a small profit, and in return they agree to provide anyone with a Trash Hero water bottle, no matter where it was purchased, with free drinking water refills. 

Trash Hero Kids Program: Trash Hero education is all about hands-on, experiential learning. Kids get points for joining cleanups in their neighborhoods (run by Trash Hero or others), for using alternatives to single use plastic bottles and bags, for refusing plastic straws, and for recycling and upcycling. The activities are done as a class or community group so there is plenty of motivation, as well as room for healthy competition among the children! 

Let's show some #PurpleCleaningPower🧹 Donate: bit.ly/PurpleCleaningPower Form: bit.ly/PurpleCleaningPowerForm

We are completely aware that not everyone is able to contribute through a monetary donation. But your support, in any form, is significant to our campaign. You can retweet our SNS posts to help increase the reach and visibility of the org amongst your followers. 

You can also find us on social media: Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, Reddit, and Amino.

#bts #bangtan #charity #oneinanarmy #kpop #jungkook #jimin #jin #rm #jhope #suga #v #campaign #bts army #bangtan sonyeondan #bts 10th anniversary

[jetblackknight]

Tell us more about your trans verse Vergil =D

( Non-Roleplay blogs please do not interact, thank you. This blog is a roleplay account of Vergil, from Devil May Cry, and it intends to stay that way. I block non-roleplay blogs on interaction. Please do not steal any headcanons here, either, thank you. These were cultivated over decades of Vergil's existence within the franchise and I hold them dear to me. )

If I did that, we would be here for years, but the gist is:

Vergil found a suitable suitor somewhere in Fortuna after being unable to control his teenage hormonal urges ( ovulation . . what a bitch ! It ruined all of Vergil's nefarious evil power plans ! )

Vergil did not realize he was pregnant until long after he lost track of the suitor—well under Arkham's influence ( we'll say about. . . at sixteen weeks )

He did what he had to do to ensure Nero's survival, much to the hatred of his humanity

He birthed Nero, alone, away from Arkham's watchful ( and somewhat abusive ) eye, but Nero breeched . Vergil had to cut him out, no medication, no hesitation . It is the single most painful thing Vergil has experienced physically .

Vergil left Nero in the good hands of a local Fortuna orphanage, not knowing if he would ever love Nero ( Nero was almost a month, at that point . . . something about his humanity's maternal instinct ; he could not leave the child to starve, so he fed him himself )

He did not have the means to acquire either top or bottom surgery. He finds no hatred in his ( teeny tiny bug bite ) breasts nor his lack of penis

Vergil left Nero with a blank blanket he found in the Sparda Manor, after bringing him along ( somewhere after Devil May Cry 4: Special Edition's Vergil campaign, but before Devil May Cry 3's main campaign. . . Vergil was with Arkham for some time before the events of 3, so, you know . It gets muddy here ) to Red Grave to search both for Sparda and his brother

Leaving Nero was the most difficult thing Vergil had to do here, too. More so because he could not provide. He split his own milk between feeding Nero and gathering it in a cooler in whatever sanitized plastic bottles he could scrounge, so that Nero would at least have some food and not formula

He left Nero in a fit of furious tears. Nero never cried out, as if he knew ( at least, I'd like to think so )

Leaving Nero is what left Vergil so bitter just before the events of 3

He still suffered abuse at the hands of Mundus, the same horrifying abuse he suffered in his main universe

He came out brand new at the end of devil May Cry 5, but the C-Section scar remains .

He does not go for hormonal replacement or top / bottom surgery once free ; he has no feelings one way or another for his body, but he does find pride in his bottom as it is . He doesn't need hormones because he can manipulate his body ( for the most part ) at will . Changing his appearance from feminine to masculine was as easy as thinking about it.

He has tried, in the past, to change other aspects, but cannot . As such, he still cannot grow facial hair or body hair, apart from a small happy trail and the usual pubic / head / butt hair.

I am probably missing a lot of headcanons here, but this is the general story / gist . Mundus didn't discriminate between verses . The abuse was still very much the same—physical, mental, sexual . Take it as you will .

#▪──── ⚔ ❝ an ILLUSION created by an extraordinary FRUIT ❞ 「 headcanons 」 #▪──── ⚔ ❝ ( Trans!Vergil headcanons ahead ! ) ❞

[mulaasritha]

Tides of Change Addressing Global Garbage on Alaska's Beaches

Alaska's pristine coastline, often celebrated for its rugged beauty and untamed wilderness, faces a growing threat: an influx of garbage from around the globe. Despite its remote location, Alaska's beaches are not immune to the pervasive problem of marine debris, with trash washing ashore from distant shores. From plastic bottles to fishing gear, this garbage poses a significant environmental hazard, endangering wildlife and spoiling the natural beauty of these coastal landscapes.

While Alaska's beaches may seem isolated, they serve as a final destination for marine debris carried by ocean currents from far-flung regions. Discarded items from coastal communities, commercial fishing vessels, and even overseas shipping contribute to the mounting problem of garbage washing up on Alaska's shores. Once ashore, this debris can persist for years, polluting habitats, entangling marine life, and leaching harmful chemicals into the environment.

The impact of marine debris on Alaska's coastal ecosystems is profound. Wildlife, including seabirds, marine mammals, and fish, often mistake plastic fragments for food, leading to ingestion and starvation. Entanglement in discarded fishing nets and lines can prove fatal for marine animals, hindering their ability to feed, swim, and reproduce. Moreover, the accumulation of garbage diminishes the aesthetic value of Alaska's beaches, tarnishing their allure for residents and visitors alike.

Addressing the issue of global garbage on Alaska's beaches requires a concerted effort at local, national, and international levels. Coastal communities must implement waste management strategies to reduce the amount of trash entering marine environments, including recycling programs, beach cleanups, and public education campaigns. Collaboration between government agencies, non-profit organizations, and industry stakeholders is essential to coordinate cleanup efforts and promote sustainable practices.

Furthermore, international cooperation is vital to address the root causes of marine debris, including plastic pollution and improper waste disposal. Multilateral agreements, such as the Basel Convention and the International Maritime Organization's MARPOL Annex V, aim to regulate the transboundary movement of hazardous waste and prevent marine pollution. By strengthening these agreements and enforcing regulations, the global community can mitigate the impacts of marine debris on Alaska's beaches and beyond.

In conclusion, Alaska's beaches are not immune to the scourge of marine debris, with garbage from around the world washing ashore on its pristine shores. The proliferation of plastic pollution, discarded fishing gear, and other waste poses a significant threat to coastal ecosystems and wildlife. Addressing this issue requires collective action at the local, national, and international levels, including waste management initiatives, cleanup efforts, and international cooperation. Only through concerted efforts can we protect Alaska's beaches and preserve their natural beauty for future generations to enjoy.