[ID: "Cold weather reminder. Do NOT plug space heaters into power strips or extension cords. Plug space heaters directly into the wall outlet. Power strips are not designed to handle the high current flow required by a space heater and can overheat causing a fire."
A photo is attached of a power strip with an extremely charred end. Part of the power strip's wire is also charred. End ID]
For clarification's sake, is this true everywhere? I ask because I know that different countries have different quality home electricity provision; American home electricity Ain't Great compared with most of Europe, for example. In Wales I have never heard of this being a Thing, but our electricity comes in 240V flavour, so possibly the higher current naturally avoids this issue?
My British husband (not an electrician but electrician-adjacent) says yes this is true in the UK as well - anything that uses a lot of power should be plugged directly into the wall rather than an extension lead
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"going out to get milk" is a common turn of phrase used to describe a man abandoning his family.
the "milkman" is a common figure in stories depicting a woman's infidelity and adulterous affair.
this implies that the ability to provide milk would both decrease the likelihood of a man abandoning his wife and children, as it would eliminate the need for leaving to get milk AND would secure that man's marriage, as his wife would have no need to seek milk from an extraneous source.
therefore, all men should produce milk, through various means such as:
- being a cow
- being an almond
- being a woman
- being a coconut
- being in the omegaverse
- being an oat
(list is exemplary and not finite)
in this essay, i will redefine the nuclear family and explain the seductive and inflammatory nature of the 1993 "Got Milk?" commercials.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hey here is your friendly reminder to not tell your nice boss stuff.
I’m at the executive management level for my very small company and I have 4 people who report directly to me. I am a nice boss. I’m friendly with my employees, I treat them like professional adults, I actively try to create a positive work environment, and I mentor them and make sure they’re advancing in their careers. I do my best to shield them from the rest of management doing stupid shit. My employees like working for me.
The other day one of my employees came to ask if she could change her hours on Mondays. I said yes immediately because it’s helpful for me to know when she’s here and when she’s not, but as long as she gets her work done I don’t care when and where she does it. She then proceeded to tell me that it was so she could attend therapy and like … I will never use this information but … as a general rule don’t fucking do that.
Do not tell your employer shit about your mental or physical health except for the bare minimum needed to request a reasonable accommodation. Even your nice boss can fire you, even your nice boss can unfairly change your working conditions, and even your nice boss at some point is probably going to face pressure from their superiors.
I’m not saying don’t trust your boss with anything ever. I’m just saying that anytime you are in the workplace you need to keep your private information private. You can still have a good relationship with your boss. Your workplace can still be pleasant. But if it ever feels like disclosing private information is required in order to have a good relationship with your boss, please see that as a red flag.
This post got a like out of nowhere and I only vaguely remember writing it and I’m not entirely sure which of my employees inspired it, but it still holds.
so they said that it turns out that if you centrifuge ricotta cheese at something like 20,000 RPM for a few minutes, you end up with a solid substance that's delicious but so rich that it feels like it solidifies your arteries instantly. they were working on incorporating it into pastry fillings
Open a bank account or get a credit card without signed permission from her father or hr husband.
Serve on a jury - because it might inconvenience the family not to have the woman at home being her husband’s helpmate.
Obtain any form of birth control without her husband’s permission. You had to be married, and your hub and had to agree to postpone having children.
Get an Ivy League education. Ivy League schools were men’s colleges ntil the 70′s and 80′s. When they opened their doors to women it was agree that women went there for their MRS. Degee.
Experience equality in the workplace: Kennedy’s Commission on the Status of Women produced a report in 1963 that revealed, among other things, that women earned 59 cents for every dollar that men earned and were kept out of the more lucrative professional positions.
Keep her job if she was pregnant.Until the Pregnancy Discrimination Act in 1978, women were regularly fired from their workplace for being pregnant.
Refuse to have sex with her husband.The mid 70s saw most states recognize marital rape and in 1993 it became criminalized in all 50 states. Nevertheless, marital rape is still often treated differently to other forms of rape in some states even today.
Get a divorce with some degree of ease.Before the No Fault Divorce law in 1969, spouses had to show the faults of the other party, such as adultery, and could easily be overturned by recrimination.
Have a legal abortion in most states.The Roe v. Wade case in 1973 protected a woman’s right to abortion until viability.
Take legal action against workplace sexual harassment. According to The Week, the first time a court recognized office sexual harassment as grounds for legal action was in 1977.
Play college sports Title IX of the Education Amendments of protects people from discrimination based on sex in education programs or activities that receive Federal financial assistance It was nt until this statute that colleges had teams for women’s sports
Apply for men’s Jobs The EEOC rules that sex-segregated help wanted ads in newspapers are illegal. This ruling is upheld in 1973 by the Supreme Court, opening the way for women to apply for higher-paying jobs hitherto open only to men.
This is why we needed feminism - this is why we know that feminism works
I just want to reiterate this stuff, because I legit get the feeling there are a lot of younger women for whom it hasn’t really sunk in what it is today’s GOP is actively trying to return to.
Did you go to a good college? Shame on you, you took a college placement that could have gone to a man who deserves and needs it to support or prepare for his wife & children. But if you really must attend college, well, some men like that, you can still get married if you focus on finding the right man.
Got a job? Why? A man could be doing that job. You should be at home caring for a family. You shouldn’t be taking that job away from a man who needs it (see college, above). You definitely don’t have a career – you’ll be pregnant and raising children soon, so no need to worry about promoting you.
This shit was within living memory. I’M A MILLENIAL and my mother was in the second class that allowed women at an Ivy League school. Men who are alive today either personally remember shit like this or have parents/family who have raised them into thinking this was the way America functioned back in the blissful Good Old Days. There are literally dudes in the GOP old enough to remember when it was like this and yearn for those days to return.
When people talk about resisting conservativism and the GOP, we’re not just talking about whether the wage gap is a myth or not. We’re talking about whether women even have the fundamental right to exist as individuals, to run their own households and compete for jobs and be considered on an equal footing with men in any arena at all in the first place.
I was a child in the 1960s, a teenager in the 1970s, a young adult in the 1980s.
This is what it was like:
When I was growing up, it was considered unfortunate if a girl was good at sports. Girls were not allowed in Little League. Girls’ teams didn’t exist in high school, except at all-girls’ high schools. Boys played sports, and girls were the cheerleaders.
People used to ask me as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said I wanted to be a brain surgeon or the first woman justice on the Supreme Court. Everyone told me it was impossible–those just weren’t realistic goals for a girl–the latter, especially, because you couldn’t trust women to judge fairly and rationally, after all.
In the 1960s and 1970s, all women were identified by their marital status, even in arrest reports and obituaries. In elementary school, my science teacher referred to Pierre Curie as DOCTOR Curie and Marie Curie as MRS. Curie…because, as he put it, “she was just his wife.” (Both had doctorates and both were Nobel prize winners, so you would think that both would be accorded respect.)
Companies could and did require women to wear dresses and skirts. Failure to do could and did get women fired. And it was legal. It was also legal to fire women for getting married or getting pregnant. The rationale was that a woman who was married or who had a child had no business working; that was what her husband was for. Aetna Insurance, the biggest insurance company in America, fired women for all of the above.
A man could rape his wife. Legally. I can remember being twelve years old and reading about legal experts actually debating whether or not a man could actually be said to coerce his wife into having sex. This was a serious debate in 1974.
The debate about marital rape came up in my law school, too, in 1984. Could a woman be raped by her husband? The guys all said no–a woman got married, so she was consenting to sex at all times. So I turned it around. I asked them if, since a man had gotten married, that meant that his wife could shove a dildo or a stick or something up his ass any time she wanted to for HER sexual pleasure.
(Hey, I thought it was reasonable. If one gender was legally entitled to force sex on the other, then obviously the reverse should also be true.)
The male law students didn’t like the idea. Interestingly, they commented that being treated like that would make them feel like a woman.
My reaction was, “Thank you for proving my point…”
The concept of date rape, when first proposed, was considered laughable. If a woman went out on a date, the argument of legal experts ran, sexual consent was implied. Even more sickening was the fact that in some states–even in the early 1980s–a man could rape his daughter…and it was no worse than a misdemeanor.
Women taking self-defense classes in the 1970s and 1980s were frequently described in books and on TV as “cute.” The implication was that it was absurd for a woman to attempt to defend herself, but wasn’t it just adorable for her to try?
I was expressly forbidden to take computer classes in junior and senior years of high school–1978-79 and 1979-80–because, as the principal told me, “Only boys have to know that kind of thing. You girls are going to get married, and you won’t use it.”
When I was in college–from 1980 to 1984–there were no womens’ studies. The idea hadn’t occurred in many places because the presumption was that there was nothing TO study. My history professor–a man who had a doctorate in history–informed me quite seriously that women had never produced a noted painter, sculptor, composer, architect or scientist because…wait for it…womens’ brains were too small.
(He was very surprised when I came up with a list of fifty women gifted in the arts and science, most of whom he had never heard of before.)
When Walter Mondale picked Geraldine Ferraro as a running mate in 1984, the press hailed it as a disaster. What would happen, they asked fearfully, if Mondale died and Ferraro became president? What if an international crisis arose and she was menstruating? She could push the nuclear button in a fit of PMS! It would be the end of the WORLD!!
…No, they WEREN’T kidding.
On the surface, things are very different now than they were when I was a child, a teen and a young adult. But I’m afraid that people now do not realize what it was like then. I’ve read a lot of posts from young women who say that they are not feminists. If the only exposure to feminism they have is the work of extremists, I cannot blame them overmuch.
I wish that I could tell them what feminism was like when it was new–when the dream of legal equality was just a dream, and hadn’t even begun to come true. When “woman’s work” was a sneer–and an overt putdown. When people tut-tutted over bright and athletic girls with the words, “Really, it’s a shame she’s not a boy.” That lack of feminism wasn’t all men opening doors and picking up checks. A lot of it was an attitude of patronizing contempt that hasn’t entirely died out, but which has become less publicly acceptable.
I wish I could make them feel what it was like…when grown men were called “men” and grown women were “girls.”
I am 70. I remember all those things. I was a student nurse from 64 to 67 and we were not permitted to “finish” a bed bath on a male or insert a catheter in a male. Seeing male genitals might cause us “harm” or upset our delicate sensibilities. Imagine when we graduated and were “thrown” to the wolves. Imagine if you were a male patient who had to be the first to be “practiced” on by a graduate nurse. (Ha!) At the school I attended no student nurse could be married. Only one school in my city (Atlanta) would even admit married women and Male Nurses weren’t even thought of. What man would want to be a nurse when he could be a Doctor. In all my training I only remember 3 or 4 Women who were Doctor’s and a very few, (less than 5 or 6) female interns or residents (and this was a teaching hospital) and most of those were OB/Gyns and one was a pediatrician.
When I graduated and was going to get married I wanted to go on birth control pills. You needed to be on them for a least one cycle before they were effective. I won’t go into what hoops I had to jump through to get a prescription from my Dr. (a man, natch) but when i went to the drug store to get the prescription filled I ended up having to get my future husband to “accompany” me so the pharmacist “interview” him and see if it was okay with him for me to be on the pill.
Even when we went to get a marriage license I had to get my Father’s signature and we had to go before a Judge because I was not yet 21 (I was 20 and 9 months).
I could go on and on, getting a credit card in MY name, etc., but I will tell you that WE MUST RESIST.
The number of people I know who romanticize gender inequality is frankly terrifying. A world never existed in which the lives of women were simplified by benevolent men who saw to her every want and need. That was not a thing. A world never existed in which women were all ladies, men were all gentlemen, & everything was some great big cishet fairytale. Feminists aren’t a bunch of upstarts who want to destroy a perfectly wholesome and non-harmful system. Just…look at history. Look at the posts above. We. Must. Resist..
This is what they mean, when they say “Old-fashioned values”
When conservatives start waxing lyrical about the ‘good old days’, this is what they mean. They are fully aware how much things blew for women, and they would like to return to that.
At first I re-blogged this with no commentary added because it’s already so thorough and good.
But then I realized I actually do want to add something. This was written nine years ago. In the 9 years that have come to pass the white nationalist Christian fascism ultra right agenda of misogyny has had many victories.
In the United States just off the top of my head a very few examples: there’s no longer a legally protected right to abortion. Countless laws across our country police, how woman you must look or be to enter a public bathroom. We know with certainty the president and countless people around him are pedophiles and rapists. Women’s participation in the workforce has been rolled back to 1980s levels. The pressure to be thin is higher now than 10 years ago.
I don’t have a raccoon daughter because I’m a raccoon biologist. I have a raccoon daughter because I moved to South Africa because I had what I thought was a “prophetic dream” (I had scurvy and also an evil psychiatrist prescribing me the wrong meds) where I was in South Africa and there was billboard with a woman on it in a lab coat holding a red fox and a raccoon that said “Dr Foxy: This Could Be You!” And then in the dream I looked across the street and saw a billboard the said “Come Visit Hooters in South Africa.” And I woke up and was like “I know what I need to do” which was not “go to school to study native wildlife” but instead was “visit Hooters in South Africa.” But I didn’t want to go for just a little while because it was expensive and I didn’t like the idea of the long flight, but I knew I HAD to go to the Hooters in South Africa. So I figured it would be more economical to just go and finish art school there. Except COVID happened and I literally got trapped there and the hooters in the city I moved to had apparently been closed for years and also I got a concussion and when I went to the doctor they said I had scurvy. So I had to do intensive eating treatment where I drank a lot of fruit juice and also learned to eat macaroni that was shapes other than SpongeBob. And after listening to my yapping about raccoons, my therapist, who had never met a raccoon, told me I should get a raccoon to help me keep fresh fruits in the house. And so when I got back to America I found someone trying to get rid of one Facebook because it was apparently evil and bit her toddler and then I did.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The GIW knows Amity Park is a huge fraud. The “most haunted city in the US”, really? They’ve been checking the place out for decades with nary a peep aside from that couple of crazy scientists that moved into town around twenty years prior.
Because of this, the town became a punishment duty. One of their agents causes trouble? They get put in time out and sent to work for a while in Amity Park. Let those idiots chase after pointless rumors while the actually competent agents work with the more important ghosts. The reports back from the town get barely more than a cursory glance before getting tossed in the shredder.
…Which really came back to bite them when ghosts did actually start to show up, and they didn’t realize until after the Amity Park branch had royally screwed up the situation.
Fuck, they really hope this doesn’t start a war.
Optional DPxDC addition: they call in the Justice League Dark for help with negotiation and taking down their rogue members
This was it. Today was the day. Today, Evan Stewart was going to organize the GIW archives so that old files could finally be dug up through their very rational and navigable system.
That’s not a normal thing to do, Stewart. No one cares about the file room, Stewart. Get back to analyzing the anomalies in the tri-state area, Stewart. Well, to hell with the naysayers! The file system needed to be organized and Evan was going to do it.
…Okay, but it was really boring. Evan had been working on nothing else for almost five hours now, and his eyes were starting to cross from sorting out all the dates and locations. Even the fact that they were all cool reports of things like Mothman sightings and agitated spirits could only do so much to ease the endless stream of sequential numbers.
He found a breath of relief when he accidentally dug up the Amity Park box and snickered to himself. This should be good; the gossamer-thin veil between Amity Park and the spirit realm meant that the area needed to be monitored, but nothing interesting there had happened. Ever. Not once since the GIW had first been founded in the 50’s. So the place had been relegated to a sort of punishment duty, the GIW equivalent to weeks-long stakeouts with little guarantee of payoff. The reports were usually filed without being read.
Evan settled in to read a long series of resentful reports from disciplined agents being sent on wild goose chases, smirking to himself. The smirk didn’t last three reports.
Twenty minutes later, Evan picked up the whole box and ran to the analytics department, sweating bullets.
---------
“So this is the situation,” Juno began, doing her best to appear unruffled, despite the fact that they were in an emergency meeting almost two hours after the workday should’ve been over. “Twenty-four years ago, Dr. Jack Fenton and Dr. Madeline Fenton theorize that the spirit realm could be reached through a man-made portal. Their prototype explodes in their lab partner’s face. We laugh at them and forget about it.” She paused, glancing across the room. No one was laughing now. “Four years ago, they managed it.”
Juno had worked for the GIW for more than forty years. She’d been the head of the analytics department for almost twenty, working as the communications hub between research, spiritual relations, and security. She thought she’d seen it all by now. The situation at Amity Park? Was like nothing she’d even imagined.
“How the f-” Byron caught the boss’ eye and stopped himself. “How?”
“That’s not the main problem right now,” Juno said. The research department would be looking into it, of course, but there were more immediate concerns. “Obviously, with a permanent portal open between the human world and the spirit realm, all hell broke loose, literally. There are ghost attacks, plural, every day.”
“How many fatalities?” Paul asked, leaning back in his seat with a grim look. As head of security, he’d probably seen his fair share of agitated ghosts, and some of them could get nasty.
Individual spirits could usually be appeased without too much trouble, contained if necessary, but a flood of spirits straight from the spirit realm? Even a well-staffed branch like New Orleans or San Francisco would struggle. Amity Park had a skeleton crew.
“So far? None,” Juno said. She folded her arms behind her back with a sigh. “By some miracle, the actual grace of God, I assume, a guardian spirit took up a post there very early on. Judging from the descriptions, he’s newly dead, five years at most, and it must have been brutal, because he’s keeping everything in check almost single-handedly and despite the interference of amateur ghost hunters. The… poor quality of the information is making it difficult to discern what his exact criteria are, but our leading theory suggests that he’s a peacekeeper of some kind.”
Meaning he wanted everyone to be safe, which was a godsend in the current situation. Most guardian spirits weren’t so forgiving, even if they tended to be more morally driven than other ghosts.
Leon, the GIW head, sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was the only one there who’d been on board longer than Juno, going from research to security to analytics before finally settling into a leadership role. He’d been the one to establish deescalation as the primary protocol of the GIW. “And dare I ask what the Amity branch was doing during all this?”
“I’m so glad you did!” Juno chirped, a vein pulsing in her temple. “They’re among the amateur ghost hunters shooting at the guardian spirit. They’ve decided to detain him for experimentation and execution. For some fucking reason.”
She allowed them all a minute to absorb that. Several heads went ‘thunk’ on the tables. Some composure had apparently been lost as they transitioned to overtime.
“What course of action do you recommend, Agent J?” Leon asked tiredly. They’d worked together for long enough that he trusted her judgment.
“We need to send a new, competent team out to Amity Park,” Juno said. “I’ll have some recommendations on your desk by tomorrow afternoon. I suggest only transferring in agents with excellent spiritual relations skills, and as few combat agents as we can get away with. Trust me, if half the reports are true, that guardian spirit doesn’t need any help on that front, and he’ll only feel threatened by them. We’ll need to do a full internal review of the Amity base staff, but most likely the whole branch will have to go. After that, we need to speak with the Fentons and the Red Huntress, as well as the guardian spirit that now essentially owns Amity Park. This situation needs to be deescalated yesterday. And Agent Lambda?”
Leon raised an eyebrow, and Juno took a deep breath.
“The guardian spirit is a child ghost. They need to be careful with him.” They might not be any physical threat to a ghost of his described power, but ghosts were sensitive at the best of times, and this one had been through a lot in a relatively short amount of time.
Elena Alamilla, Agent E, got her first glimpse of Amity Park’s guardian two days after she transferred in. He was exactly as the reports described, to a degree that was startling; she’d never seen ghosts so solid before, let alone one that was also so newly dead. In the right circumstances, Phantom could’ve been mistaken for a living teenager, white hair and all. Kids liked messing with their hair.
These were not the right circumstances. One of Amity’s ‘repeat visitors,’ a ghost identifying himself as Technus, had taken over a parking lot and was loudly declaring his intent to become a Transformer. He was making a surprising amount of progress.
“Introducing you to those movies was a mistake!” Phantom yelled, and then rammed into the construct feet-first at a high enough velocity that it went crashing down with an indignant shout.
“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Agent T asked Elena, not taking her brown eyes off the fight. Her honey-blonde hair was braided back, out of her face, and she tugged nervously on the end, unintentionally betraying her discomfort with the proximity of the fight.
Elena considered. She had sixteen years’ experience to T’s four, all in one of the GIW’s most active branches, so it wasn’t unusual for the younger agent to check with her. “After Hurricane Katrina,” she said after a moment. “That riled up most of the spirits in the area, it wasn’t pretty. But these two seem to be in a pretty good mood; I think they’re playing. You don’t usually see ghosts blow this much power on play.”
“I WILL BECOME TECHNUS PRIME!” Technus screamed. “AND CONQUER THIS TINY HUMAN PLANET!”
“You missed the whole point of the movie, dude!”
Agent T whistled, twisting her braid hard. “I would hate to see either of them in a bad mood.”
Elena watched Technus fending Phantom off with one hand while he psychically tore the cars apart and fused them back together in a more Transformer-like shape. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Find a way to keep everyone happy. If all this guy wants is to play with human tech and pretend to be a Transformer, we’ll drag together a junkyard just for him. I’ve done more work to appease weaker ghosts, honestly.”
“Is it that easy?” Agent T looked rightfully doubtful.
“No,” Elena admitted. She blew a black lock out of her face with a grimace. She’d need to pick up more hair ties; there was too much action here to leave it down. “For one thing, I think he came here to play with Phantom.”
Agent T frowned. “What makes you say that?”
Elena nodded at the bickering ghosts. “Most ghosts that you find in the material world are either bound here, like Phantom, or they fell through a natural portal and got stuck. Technus isn’t either of those - and he’s not trying to stay here, so he’s visiting. But he came here for a reason. Either he actually wants to be a Transformer, which he could probably do in the spirit realm, or he wants to fight Phantom.”
Phantom smashed through one of the Transformer’s arms, sending the dangling portion crashing to the ground. Technus swatted him away hard enough to crack the trunk of the tree he hit, then started trying to rebuild the broken arm.
“This is crazier than that guy that wanted us to reassemble his beanie baby collection,” T muttered.
“Not getting cold feet, are you, T? I thought you were all excited about the research opportunities here.” Elena wasn’t really surprised. Amity Park and all that it promised would be overwhelming for most agents, even the more experienced ones.
Agent T huffed. “No! Just… processing. These ghosts are so next-level powerful that it’s hard to grasp that they’re the same thing as always. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ghost do more than shatter windows before.”
Elena gave her a reassuring smile. “Maybe it’s easier when you’ve seen the full scale,” she said. “Focus less on the destruction, more on what drives them. Ghosts don’t do anything they don’t want to do, so figure out what their goal is and help them out. I promise you, they’re all just people underneath the fuss. These two? They’re just roughhousing, and they’re-” She winced as Phantom’s body cracked a concrete wall. “-getting a little careless with it.” She grinned. “Boys being boys.”
“Boys being boys,” Agent T muttered incredulously, but she did seem more relaxed after that.
Elena leaned back to watch the encounter. Like she’d said, ghosts usually reserved displays of power like this for when they were actually upset. But these two had essentially unlimited access to ectoplasm, and so there was nothing stopping them from expending as much as they wanted. It was, in its own way, fascinating. There were so many unusual dynamics at play here. If the last guys hadn’t stirred up the locals so bad, this would’ve become their most active research facility overnight.
Soon after, Phantom phased through Technus’ Transformer, and Technus came tumbling out with an outraged wail. Phantom tossed him, then kicked him into the ground and grabbed something off his hip - a capture device, the ‘Fenton Thermos,’ that seemed to be his signature.
“Next time I’ll show you Star Trek,” Phantom promised Technus, and then caught him in the miniature vortex. Technus wailed indignantly as he was pulled inside, and then Phantom attached the thermos back onto his belt.
Belatedly, Elena registered that the fight was over, which meant-
“Wait, oh shit, oh shit,” Elena muttered, hurrying back to the van and gesturing for Agent T to do the same. T did so without question, but it was too late; by the time they’d started it up, Phantom was already gone. Elena set her head against the wheel and sighed. “Ah, hell.”
“Don’t worry,” T said dryly, glancing around at the destruction. Already Amity Parkers were starting to wander back in, confident that their guardian spirit had made it safe. “I’m sure we’ll get plenty of other chances to talk to him.”
It only took another few days to - well, Elena didn’t want to say corner him, that had bad connotations right now, but they got close enough to talk to him. He was chatting with a few of the other regulars, the biker ghost and his girlfriend and shadow, and all four of them stiffened as the GIW van approached.
Decisively, Elena stopped it and got out early, hands in the air, and they let her approach - thirty feet, twenty feet. Phantom slid in front of the other ghosts and took a guarded stance, and the biker pulled his girlfriend onto the bike and revved it with a glare, but if that was as hostile as things got, Elena would count it as a win.
“Hey,” she called out, keeping her voice calm. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’d like to do the polite thing and make a tribute to the guardian spirit before we officially settle into his territory. It’s okay if you and your death-bound stick around, I know you probably don’t want me around anyone so newly dead.”
She was maybe laying it on a little thick, but people tended to sit up and take notice when you used the same cultural terms that they did, and ghosts were no different. It was a form of respect, to match language with someone, and she did her best - tribute, guardian spirit, his territory, death-bound, newly dead. Terms that ghosts used to talk about themselves, which were almost always distinct from the language used by both ectologists and spiritualists. (GIW agents usually fell into a bastardized blend of all three.)
And sure enough, she caught their attention. The biker and his girl exchanged a baffled look, and Phantom gave the other two a quick glance before returning his attention to Elena, still wary but not quite as defensive.
“Is this a joke?” Phantom asked sharply. His voice echoed faintly, resonating with itself. “You’re the Guys in White. You might be new here, but I recognize those uniforms. You’ve been here almost as long as I have.”
Elena took a deep breath. The trick would be explaining it simply enough that the young ghost wouldn’t lose patience with them, but thoroughly enough to give them a second chance. “No jokes here,” she promised, hiding her nerves the best she could. If any of these ghosts lashed out… “The local admin, Agent Alpha, has been operating against official GIW policy for years now. He and everyone that worked under him has been fired. We’re moving ahead now with approved protocols, starting with making an offering to any guardian spirits that have settled in the area.”
Phantom scowled at her, unimpressed. This close, she could see that mist was wisping off the ends of Phantom’s hair, the start of a morph. His wary snarl bared fangs, and his skin was tinted a faint green. It was fascinating to see such a young ghost so clearly; the green ran along illusory veins, barely visible in his temple and cheeks.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Phantom snapped. His ectoplasmic gaze was piercing; Elena had never seen eyes so vivid before. “Get the heck out of here.”
Elena winced. This wasn’t going well. But the female ghost’s eyes narrowed, studying her and her partner with sharp eyes. T shifted nervously, taking half a step back before stopping herself.
“Phantom, wait.” Phantom raised his eyebrows at the woman, but nodded once, and she continued, “You mentioned a tribute, right? Let’s see if it’s something worth having.” Her derisive tone said she doubted it, but honestly, it wasn’t anything Elena wasn’t used to hearing from more powerful ghosts.
“What the heck is a tribute?” Phantom hissed to the woman. Both she and the biker ghost snorted.
He was seventeen, Elena thought, maybe eighteen at a stretch. Edging into adulthood, but baby fat clung to his cheeks and softened his face, and his shoulders weren’t as broad as they might have become. With both feet on the ground, his image crystal clear, she again thought that she could have mistaken him for human, but for the bright glow that cast shadows even in the light of day.
She couldn’t even call it an uncanny valley effect; the resemblance was comforting rather than unsettling, and a part of her wanted to step forward and hug him. She held herself back. This was a guardian spirit, not a human child.
“It’s how you curry favor with a powerful ghost,” the biker ghost said, low enough that Elena almost couldn’t hear. They were still uncomfortably tense, Phantom not taking his eyes off her even as he listened. “We’re too backwater to do that around here, there didn’t used to be anyone worth buttering up like that, but people do it to ask to move onto someone’s territory or for help with a problem or something.”
“Didn’t used to be?” Phantom echoed, brow furrowed, and both ghosts rolled their eyes at him. Elena hid a smile and noted to herself that despite Phantom’s considerable power, typical age dynamics seemed to play out between him and the older spirits.
“So, human, what did you bring?” the female ghost demanded, tapping her foot impatiently.
Elena slipped her hand into her bag, swallowing nervously as all three ghosts followed the motion. Then she pulled out the offering HQ had provided, and both older ghosts whistled in impressed unison. No recognition in the guardian spirit’s eyes, though; they were lucky the other two were here.
“Damn, alright,” the biker huffed, and elbowed Phantom in the side. Phantom grunted in irritation and hopped a few steps away, like a kid. “Take it. That’s Angel’s Ambrosia. Most ghosts never even see one of these.”
Phantom didn’t look convinced, but he held out his hand. Elena tossed it over: a small, round fruit that looked a lot like a mangosteen, but with a sky blue rind. It split easily under Phantom’s hands, revealing the honey-colored fruit, segmented like a tangerine and glowing faintly.
“…You can keep talking,” Phantom said after a moment. He took two segments and offered one each to the other ghosts, who looked surprised but pleased. “And you can put your hands down. I know you don’t have any weapons on you.”
Elena did so with a shaky exhale. “I’m Agent E, and this is Agent T,” she said, indicating T behind her. She kept her voice even and steady, but her eyes lowered from Phantom’s. “We were transferred here from the New Orleans branch. The new admin, Agent Mu, is from there too. I’ve been watching her calm agitated spirits for over a decade, and she strictly disciplines agents that are disrespectful to the dead.” Phantom jerked his head slightly. Go on. “She’s put agents on desk duty for raising their voice. The last time someone fired on an nonviolent spirit, they were let go on the spot.”
“Define nonviolent.” Phantom’s suspicious look didn’t waver. Given what ghosts were like around here, Elena supposed it made sense.
“Lizzie was agitated, and things were flying, but she hadn’t attacked anyone outright,” Elena clarified. As she’d hoped, Phantom’s shoulders loosened subtly at the way she referred to the other ghost. “Official policy says that no one fires on a ghost unless they attack someone directly, and to only subdue them if they’re actively endangering civilians.” It wasn’t usually a firing offense, but Maya really was particularly strict.
The other two ghosts looked bored now, but something about the way they stood on either side of Phantom told Elena that they were still tense. A third ghost morphed out of the biker’s shadow and begged, and Phantom gave them a segment of the fruit without looking. It was still cupped in his hands, untouched save what he’d shared with the others.
“The other agents… they were rushed out, weren’t they? How many are moving in?” Phantom asked. His voice snapped out like a whip, confident and demanding, far from the playful quips that usually characterized him.
“Six,” T said, from Elena’s right. Phantom’s attention shot to her, and she met his eyes. (Challenge behavior; Elena would have to warn her about that.) “Along with us and Agent Mu, there are two scientists, Agents G and N. Agent G is spiritually sensitive.” Phantom’s brow furrowed, and T caught on before Elena did. “That is, he can sense the presence of ghosts and liminals. And Agent S, the combat agent, is for legal reasons. He’ll stay on base when in uniform.” Phantom scowled, but didn’t verbally object.
“The scientists. What do they do? What are their specialties?” Phantom asked sharply. It was a fair question considering what Agent Alpha had directed the previous science staff to do. Elena suppressed a shudder. Standard cleanup hadn’t been enough to get rid of what those guys had left behind.
“Agent N is an ectopsychologist,” T answered calmly. “He studies ghost behavior on an individual and group level. The unusual ghost interactions here present a unique opportunity on that front. Agent G specializes in ectoradiation. This area is saturated in it, and we’d like to make sure there are no adverse effects.” There was a long list of GIW scientists clamoring to visit Amity Park already, but they needed to keep the staff limited and harmless for the moment.
Phantom considered them for a moment, then nodded sharply, apparently deeming them acceptable. “What do you want?” he asked, no less wary but dropping the protective steel edge he’d had before. Tellingly, all three other ghosts relaxed, stepping away out of their tight formation.
Phantom finally picked out one of the segments and popped it into his mouth, and his eyes actually closed for a moment, letting out a pleased moan. Elena smiled to herself. Supposedly, something about the fruit resonated with a ghost’s core, and it tasted like bliss.
“We’re hoping to establish peaceful relations with you,” T said, still unwavering. Hands at her sides, but palms forward, open. Relaxed. “The situation at Amity Park needs to be deescalated; it’s too volatile right now. If anything happens to you, everything comes crashing down.” Phantom’s scowl said this wasn’t news to him. “We’ll talk to the Fentons and the Red Huntress, try to get them to calm down. You keep doing what you’re doing. Is that acceptable?”
Phantom tilted his head, studying them. “What’s the catch?”
They exchanged a look. Agent T shifted uneasily, and Elena shook her head, trying to reassure her. Typical guardian spirit behavior - they tended towards paranoia.
“We’ll be a lot more active in town than the last guys,” Elena said at last, looking back at Phantom. “They kept to themselves when they weren’t hunting, right? But you’ll probably see us around town a lot. We’ll be doing PR work, teaching people about ghosts-” Phantom scowled harder. “-the real stuff about ghosts, the way you talk about yourselves.” The scowl eased, but he was still frowning. “And we might suggest some changes to try and keep damages down. There are less destructive ways to keep ghosts happy.”
“…You can stay,” Phantom decided, eyes narrowed. He cupped the rest of the fruit against his chest possessively. “But I’ll be watching you.”
“You can even show up and ask questions if you’d like,” Elena promised him. “We’ll explain anything we’re doing to you.” It was important, very important, to get on this ghost’s good side and stay there. “Are there any rules we need to follow while we’re here?”
Phantom raised his eyebrows, like he was surprised to be asked, but he nodded.
“You don’t threaten anyone with a weapon, don’t capture any ghosts, don’t blackmail anyone,” he ordered. “If you start intimidating people, I’ll know about it.” That was somehow even more threatening. “And you two!” T jumped, but Phantom turned to the ghosts. “Don’t break anything, don’t scare anyone. The Red Huntress will be out at five. You have ‘til then. Thanks for the help.”
All three of them grinned at him.
“Don’t mention it,” the biker said, leaning forward on his bike. His girlfriend hopped behind him. “See you around, Phantom.”
He glanced at Elena and T, scowled at them, and disappeared. Phantom kicked off the ground, and did the same only seconds later. With that, they were alone.
Elena wiped the sweat off her brow.
“Hope we get used to these guys quick,” she said ruefully. “That was more stressful than those unlicensed summoners last year.”
I have ideas bouncing in my head and cannot do anything with them, so I shall place them here in hopes that someone sees my plea for it to be written-
Possible Ghost King Danny AU here and just like, the absolute drama when the G.I.W. learns that said protector spirit is also the literal king of all ghosts now.
Even if it’s not a Ghost King AU Still pleanty of shenanigans to go around when they find out that the ENTIRE TOWN ended up in the ghost zone, and Phantom fought off the literal ghost king to save the town (and his rogues). Like holly specters they need to be even more careful, because this ghost just broke the power scale.
Reveal shenanigans. Like, they eventually learn that Danny’s half humaan and not full ghost and on the one hand, fascinating, how does that even work? On the other hand, oh gods, this has been a literal child, still in school, keeping the town safe. Sure things have calmed down now, but the fights sure seemed serious in the beginning if those reports are to be believed. Also, wait, the protector spirit is the son of the ghost hunters who made the portal?! Is he safe?! They’re trying to dissect his ghost form! Oh my lord, he died how?!
Agent G. They’re spiritually sensitive. Can they still tell that Danny is Phantom when in human form, or does he just read as way more liminal than the others? Does Agent G struggle to pinpoint anything specific because like, littersally everyone in town is at least a little liminal, or is everything very clear and easy to read? I have questions!
I've been putting off the Good GIW AU until I finish Life and Death (it's not so far off now!!) but here's a bit more because it's been so long, again-
---
Cory sprouted an enormous headache the moment he laid eyes on FentonWorks, and it only got worse the longer he looked at it. "What the hell is that."
Agent G shrugged, only a faint furrow in his brow betraying his thoughts. Cory sighed, resigned himself to the situation, and stepped forward to knock on the front door. He in no way wanted to be responsible for delivering a certified Official Apology to the Fenton family, but unfortunately the only available alternative was Agent G, which was out of the question.
No one answered the door. Cory hesitated, then pressed the doorbell. He listened for footsteps.
He was still listening for footsteps when the front door opened, and a black-haired teenager opened the door to raise an eyebrow at them, eyes narrowing when he noticed their uniforms. G inhaled sharply, but didn't speak up, leaving Cory to address the kid.
"Excuse me, are you Daniel Fenton?" he asked politely. He matched the description of the Fentons' youngest child.
"Danny," the kid said flatly. "And you're the Guys in White. What do you want?"
The hostility was, unfortunately, already proving to be pretty common around here. The rogue branch had really not made themselves popular among the locals. "I'd like to speak to your parents. They work from home, don't they?"
Danny grunted, but after a moment he gestured for them to come in. He crossed the room to open a door and called down, "Mom! Dad! The Guys in White want to talk to you!"
"We'll be up in a minute, sweetie! Put them in the living room!"
Danny left the door open and jerked his head pointedly toward a couple of couches. Cory nodded in return, and all three of them headed over there. Cory and G took one couch, while Danny opted to lean on a wall instead, watching them with a displeased frown. G stared back, green eyes under ruffled brown hair, so that might have had something to do with the kid's defensiveness.
It took a few minutes for the Drs. Fenton to clamor up from the lab, and Cory was very certain that was the right word, because they made a lot of noise. Jack burst through first, very much the largest man Cory had ever seen, and Maddie was almost unnoticeable by comparison, except she had the same suspicious look as her son.
"THE LAB IS NOT FOR SALE!" Jack declared sternly. Cory stared at him. Maddie sighed and patted his arm.
"They only tried that once, dear, I'm sure they're here about... something else." She'd put on a polite smile, but it was still strained by her wary eyes. "Why don't you join them in the living room and I'll get everyone some water?"
"Of course, sweetums!" Jack kissed her on the cheek, then bounced over to the empty couch. Did this man really have two doctorates? Cory couldn't imagine him sitting still long enough. "Danny! Have these men done anything shady here?"
"No, Dad. I'm keeping an eye on them." It should've sounded funny, but there was something unsettling about Danny's steady, untrusting gaze.
"We're not here to take anything," Cory said, shifting the folders in his arms. "The local branch of the GIW is undergoing a personnel overhaul, since Headquarters discovered that the previous staff had... gone rogue."
"Gone rogue?" Jack echoed with a frown.
Cory nodded, but didn't elaborate until Maddie had returned, juggling a few too many glasses of water. Danny rescued her, taking half of them and helping set them out on the coffee table. Maddie gave him an affectionate smile before joining her husband on the couch. None of them touched the water.
"So, how can we help you?" Maddie asked, equally polite. Cory sighed and shifted the folders he was holding again.
"First, I'd like to officially apologize on behalf of the GIW," he said. Maddie's eyebrows flew up, and Danny crossed his arms, distrustful. Cory kept his attention on the two doctors. "Your research was clearly more sound than any of us gave you credit for, and we should have taken you more seriously when you first put your theories forward. You have accomplished something that we believed was impossible."
"You bet we did!" Jack shouted, punching the air with a grin. "And we did it without anyone's help! Take that!"
Maddie waited for her husband to finish, then picked up the thread. "We appreciate the acknowledgement," she said evenly, studying him with sharp eyes. "But, as Jack said, it's a bit late to help us with it now. What are you really here for?"
Cory suppressed another sigh.
"Under normal circumstances, GIW research is considered strictly classified," he said, holding out the folder to Maddie, who seemed the more responsible of the two. Maddie's eyes fixed on it with interest, but she didn't move to take it. G shifted, and when Cory glanced up, he was still looking at Danny, who had tensed. Cory ignored them both to continue addressing Maddie. "These-" He gestured around them. "-are not normal circumstances, and while your theories on ectoplasm and the spirit realm are unparalleled, your research on ghosts has some... critical flaws."
He was being nice. Very nice, thank you. Reading the Fentons' papers on ghost behavior had made him want to rip his hair out.
Maddie didn't appreciate it. "That's what you said last time," she said tartly, but she accepted the folder and flipped it open with interest. Jack leaned over her shoulder, and she tilted the contents to share with him. "What's so terribly flawed about our research this time, hm?"
"All of your fundamental studies on ghost behavior are based on ectoplasmic echoes and ghost animals rather than fully formed ghosts," Cory said bluntly. "It's given you a very... warped idea of their consciousnesses." Maddie opened her mouth. Cory cut her off. "I'm aware of your theories, Dr. Fenton, and I'm telling you that we have decades of data disproving them. It's all in that folder. We can have a healthy debate once you're more... informed."
God, please, let them see reason. As the ectopsychologist brought in, it would be up to Cory to talk them around if they still refused to see ghosts as having thoughts and emotions of their own. Cory did not want to have to figure out how to explain that beings entirely composed from emotion did, in fact, have feelings. He wasn't at all sure he had the patience for it.
Maybe for Phantom's sake. Phantom was still a kid, eighteen at the oldest, and if the Fentons kept thinking he was evil, they'd keep shooting at him. Which Cory did not want. He could make the patience, for that.
"Don't talk to my wife like that!" Jack snapped, bristling. Maddie's eyes had darkened, turning stormy. "If this is more of the same-!"
"Dad, please?" Danny interrupted unexpectedly, shifting his gaze to his parents instead of the agents. The way his expression softened changed his whole face, and he looked tired and worried instead of guarded. "For me and Jazz?"
Unexpectedly, Jack deflated, and he and Maddie exchanged a look. Cory cocked his head. This must have been an ongoing conflict - a generation gap, maybe? Previous reports had indicated that the kids had a generally positive opinion of ghosts.
"Alright, Danny-boy," Jack agreed, softer. "For you and Jazz."
Danny smiled at him, then shifted his gaze back to G with a frown. Was their staring contest still ongoing?
"What's your problem?" Danny asked bluntly. G blinked, then shook himself.
"I'm sorry. You're very... liminal. It was puzzling me." G still looked more thoughtful than abashed, studying Danny again while Danny scowled in faint confusion. "I've never met a human that seemed so much like a ghost." Danny tensed.
"Oh, Danny has an unusual amount of ectocontamination," Maddie said offhandedly, flipping through just enough of the folder to catch the studies' titles. Her frown deepened gradually as she did. "Jack and I didn't fully understand how much it would affect our kids until they were nearly teenagers, and by then the damage had been done. Add in an accident Danny had a few years later and, well... half our sensors register him as a ghost these days."
That was... exceptionally liminal. Frankly, Cory had never even heard of that.
Cory smacked himself in the face. "My apologies," he said stiffly. "That... should not have happened. I'll send in a recommendation to unseal those studies, at the very least." They might not want to encourage people seeking out ghosts, but the hazard warnings should be there for those who knew how to look.
Maddie nodded. "We published some eventually, but that would be for the best."
"What the heck is liminal?" Danny asked, frowning at his mother.
"It's just another term for ectocontamination, sweetie," Maddie said, glancing up from the folder. "Your father and I are strictly ectologists, but the field at large is heavily populated by people that prefer traditional terms. In that context, 'liminal' refers to people that spend so much time around ghosts and places of death that it starts to affect them visibly."
"Many experienced GIW agents eventually become liminal," Cory added. He nodded at the Drs. Fenton. "Agent G actually specializes in ectoradiation and liminality. Now that competent agents know what's happening here-" Danny snickered at the slight against the old branch. "-we're hoping to figure out whether to expect any long-term effects in the human residents."
Maddie hummed. "We've been keeping track of that as well," she murmured. She'd found a study that had caught her interest, Cory realized, and was already reading it. "There have actually been fewer cases of liminality than we've expected - so far it's only appeared in residents that were directly affected by a ghost attack. And, well..." She grimaced in visible embarrassment. "Ourselves and our children, of course." She gestured to herself and Jack.
"No fatalities in four years!" Jack added cheerfully. "We were worried too, at first, but only mild to moderate symptoms of contamination ever appeared! It's been incredibly fascinating! Maybe we can share data!" He looked less reluctant than Cory would've thought, considering their initial hostility.
G hesitated, then dipped his head toward Jack. "We should take our own data first, but I'd like to compare later," he said quietly.
They excused themselves soon after, when both elder Fentons had lost themselves in the folder of studies. Danny all but chased them out, making sure they didn't go anywhere but out the door. It was borderline ghost-like behavior, something G pointed out quietly after the door had shut behind them.
Cory nodded. "If he's that contaminated, they're lucky he never developed ectoplasmic oncosis," he said, referring to the last stage of ectocontamination poisoning. "Maybe children are better able to tolerate it on top of being more susceptible."
G shrugged, offering no further thoughts, so Cory tucked the thought away for later. If nothing else, he suspected this town would provide some data on that front as well. If only they'd been here from the beginning! Cory had never been so thankful for his flawless spiritual relations record. He might not be great with humans, but ghosts, Cory could be patient with.
"Soil samples?" Cory asked G.
"Soil samples," G agreed.
It was boring, working their way through town, packing dirt into vials, but necessary if they wanted an overall distribution of ectoradiation. Cory assumed that the Fenton household would have the most by far, but they should be able to get an idea of which areas saw the most ghost activity by the radiation levels. As they went, he kept an eye on their surroundings and thought absently that the infrastructure costs for this town had to be insane.
"Agent N." Cory glanced up at G's address, and G nodded at a small pack of teenagers hanging out by a fast food restaurant. Nasty Burger? "We should talk to them."
G was probably the only person that Cory wished would say more words. "Liminal?"
G nodded. "They've probably seen enough to have some info."
Cory shrugged and nodded, packing and labeling the last sample before he headed over. The teenagers noticed him before he reached them, and looks of displeasure and disgust appeared quickly. Cory really wanted to have a word with the previous GIW staff. Preferably in a windowless room where no one would see him throttle them. Uncooperative civilians made everything so much harder.
"Hello," he said, clipped but polite. "I'm Agent N, from the research division of the Ghost Investigation Ward. May I ask you some questions about the... ectocontamination present in you and your classmates?" If that was the term the Fentons used, it was most likely what these kids were familiar with.
The kids exchanged annoyed looks and eye rolls before a Hispanic girl took the lead, fixing Cory with a strict look and a surprisingly sharp grin. "Sure, if you can answer one question for us. Phantom, yes or no?"
"...Yes?" It clicked, and Cory nearly rolled his eyes at himself. Of course the locals were pissed at the people shooting at the resident guardian spirit. "The GIW agents you're familiar with were breaking official policy. They were fired en masse last week. Please assume that I disagree with everything they've ever said or done."
He'd caught them by surprise, he could tell, and they exchanged a few more uncertain looks in a hive mind typical of high school cliques.
"So you're with Phantom now?" the Hispanic girl asked, eyebrow raised. Cory nodded. "Like, officially, completely?"
"The competent agents of the GIW understand ghosts a bit better than the guys you're used to," Cory said dryly. "Phantom is a textbook guardian spirit, and probably a peacekeeper at that. Antagonizing him was stupid at best, and at worst, could've turned the whole situation ass-up in all kinds of ways." As it was, they'd probably turned the poor kid into an anxious wreck. Though not without help from the Drs. Fenton and the Huntress.
The girl whistled, though she didn't look completely convinced. "Yeah, okay, you get it," she decided. "Ask away."
On cue, the other kids settled down as well, watching them expectantly. Cory elbowed G in the side. Cory had handled the initial diplomacy, G could ask his damn questions.
G took the implicit order with good grace. "Do you know the signs of ectocontamination?" he asked. There was a general murmur of assent. "How many people do you know that have been exhibiting at least one of those symptoms?"
They exchanged thoughtful looks.
"Most of our year," a blonde girl said decisively. "I mean- that's not usual or anything, most people around here aren't ectocontaminated at all. But our year had this whole thing with a bunch of ghost bugs that bit everyone and gave us ghost powers for a few days, so we got it then." She shrugged it off like it wasn't the most batshit insane thing Cory had ever heard. "Uhh... Sam Manson and Tucker Foley have it pretty bad, they got possessed a couple years ago."
"Overshadowed, you mean?" Cory broke in, unable to help himself. The girl rolled her eyes.
"No, idiot, you don't get contaminated from being overshadowed, or loads more would have it. Manson and Foley were possessed. It was freaky."
"What the fuck has been happening in this town," Cory muttered, earning a few snickers from the assembled teenagers.
"Jazz and Danny Fenton have it the worst, though," a blond jock put in, shoving his hands in his pockets to eye them with some distrust still. "Have since we were kids. It was obvious even before we knew what that was. And then Danny had, you know, the accident." All of the other kids nodded, so apparently this accident was big enough that their whole school had heard about it and they didn't feel the need to explain. Or maybe that was just how small Amity Park was. "It was twice as obvious after that."
"The accident?" G asked, which was invasive but fair. Cory also wanted to know what the hell kind of accident resulted in more liminality than Cory had known was possible.
A few of the kids grimaced, more subdued just at the mention.
"Danny got hurt a couple weeks before our freshman year," an Asian kid in a letterman explained quietly. "Super bad lab accident. He got electrocuted when the portal turned on. He was in the hospital for a couple of days and he hasn't really been the same since."
Well. The Fentons had not mentioned that detail, though Cory supposed he should have guessed. (Something about the story rang a bell in the back of his head, but he did his best to ignore it for now.)
G just nodded, brow furrowed. "Has anyone gotten seriously ill since the portal opened?" he asked, returning to the previous topic. "Hypothermia, headache, mood swings. Swelling that's cold to the touch. Internal bleeding, seizures. Bruising or blisters that are unusually green. Anything like that?" The symptoms of ectoplasmic oncosis.
The kids looked at each other again, frowning.
"Not since the beginning," the blonde girl said after a minute. "I think some of the kids at our high school got some of that early on, especially anyone who went to see that weird counselor, Dr. Spectra."
The Hispanic girl nodded. "I remember getting sick," she agreed. "I was super cold and had a migraine for days, and these weird green bruises. But it didn't last that long."
A couple of the other kids chimed in agreement, and G spent a few minutes asking for their names and writing them down.
"The Fentons think that the ambient ectoradiation is helping acclimate us to ectoplasm without actually contaminating people," the blonde girl, Star, added when they were done. "That's why people are really only being affected by specific incidents." It was surreal to hear a Mean Girls-esque high schooler using advanced ectoscience terminology. She shrugged at Cory's look. "The Fentons' lectures are decent when they don't try to talk about actual ghosts. I listen in on most of them and relay anything useful to the rest of our year."
"You're a lifesaver, Star," Kwan said earnestly.
G nodded. "Thank you," he said politely, shutting his notebook. "I may contact some of you for follow-up later."
"Sure." Star studied G for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, pointed out, "You're ectocontaminated too. You sensed it on us, and you've got the eyes." She gestured to her own, which Cory had already noticed reflected light at certain angles.
G tilted his head, startled, and considered her for a moment before nodding. "I'm from Point Pleasant, West Virginia," he explained. "It's got plenty of activity of its own. Nothing like what Amity has, of course."
The kids laughed.
"Obviously," Paulina said. "Nowhere is like Amity."
Fortunately, Cory was almost certain that was true.
"This week I discovered the same pattern, executed by Google. Google Chrome is reaching into users' machines and writing a 4 GB on-device AI model file to disk without asking."
Google Chrome is downloading a 4 GB Gemini Nano model onto users' machines without consent, with no opt-in, no opt-out short of enterprise t
pretty sure I did the chrome//flags thing a while ago, but also i switched to firefox, which is not without the occasional bullshit, but is vastly less bullshitty than chrome.
This is why I treat genai "features" like the invasive blackberry bushes they are: cut, root, burn, and vigilantly watch for new shoots to uproot. I'm 54 years old and the world got by fine without genai for most of my lifetime.
Do not trust people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The thing is, even if you were lucky and your parents taught you how to clean, they probably didn't teach you how to clean the stuff you clean stuff with, like brushes, mops, sponges, rags, and so on. Or how to clean your cleaning appliances, like a dish washer, clothes washing machine, and clothes dryer and its ducts (if you have a ducted dryer), or a carpet cleaner, vacuum, Or how to clean up clean messes, like spilled bleach or detergent.
My parents threw away all of these things (even the vacuum cleaners and the dryer) when they got too dirty to function, because no one even told them THAT they could be cleaned. Cost them thousands of dollars over the years.
All I'm saying is that cleaning is not intuitive, and not knowing how to clean is not a moral failing, but it is something you can learn.
I'm going to reblog this post with resources for learning how to clean things and how to clean cleaning things (I'm not at my desk at the moment). If you have any favorites, please feel free to add them in too!
I like this video because it does a great job of introducing the basic foundations of house cleaning (and because he doesn't use bleach, which is a common allergy in addition to being awful to inhale). He also talks a little about how to clean a vacuum. And why you shouldn't put grease from your pots and pans down the sink drain. I also love that he mentions that different houses and different people have different needs and different versions of what clean and cleaning looks like.
He doesn't mention though that the toilet seat comes off. I take my toilet seat off to clean under the hinges and clean the seat more thoroughly once a quarter.
This is another video from the same guy about cleaning and depression. This advice, especially at the beginning, can feel really really difficult and oppressive to hear. However, I find that it's generally pretty solid. But I'm autistic and so is he, so that gets a massive Your Mileage May Vary stamp on it.
I have a favorite part of this video. It's from 10:52 to 12:36. I think we could all use to hear that. There's a HEFTY pause after that one. I promise the narration does come back.
I'm also going to recommend KC Davis' book "How To Keep House While Drowning"
This is a pair of videos about how to correctly load and use a dish washer.
The first one is a quick 1 minute 30 second overview on loading. I can't find the exact video I'm looking for, so consider this a substitute for that. If I can find the one I'm looking for, I'll swap it in.
The second is a half hour deep dive on dishwashers and detergents. The short form of that is you shouldn't need to pre-rinse anything, detergent pods are overpriced and can cause problems, some dishwashers have a filter in the bottom that needs to be cleaned (but most don't), run your sink until the water is HOT before starting your dish washer, and put a little detergent in the pre-rinse dispenser when you're washing extra dirty dishes (or on the inside of the door if your dishwasher doesn't have a pre-rinse dispenser).
How to clean a front load washer (with bleach). This should be done monthly or every time you wash really soiled clothes.
With expert tips and tricks for all types of washers.
How to clean a top loader (without the removable agitator thing). This should be done every 1-3 months depending on you unit, or every time you wash really soiled clothes.
Regular cleaning of a top-load washing machine will prolong the life of the appliance and leave your laundry cleaner and brighter.
How to clean a top loader (with the removable agitator thing). This should be done every month, or every time you wash really soiled clothes.
These carpet brushes are a LIFE SAVER if you have dogs. This thing allows me to go from vacuuming about 4 square feet before my vacuum is full to vacuuming half the living room (I don't vacuum often enough. You should vacuum weekly, and I just can't.). I have to unclog the vacuum less often. It fluffs up some of the flat spots in the carpet. And I also use the brush to shampoo my rugs in the spring.
A spot cleaner (or a carpet cleaner with a spot cleaner attachment) is another life saver, ESPECIALLY if you can afford to splurge on a heated one. I see them at Goodwill or at yard sales occasionally, and they're worth picking up. The shark one in the video is great too.
This channel is gold. There's tutorials for cleaning EVERYTHING on there. Just go subscribe!
Gonna throw another potential resource at the end of this very long list, which may be potentially helpful for others like me who loathe videos. It's... the weirdest thing that has genuinely been helpful to me in housekeeping. Absolutely full of useful advice, and bizarrely still relevant in large part. (Though, caveat, research ANYTHING to do with chemicals or cleaning products more complicated than vinegar + lemon + water for modern information.)
It's America's Housekeeping Book (1941). Available for free download on the Internet Archive. (Large PDF file at the link here).
The LISTS y'all. The step by step lists. The emphasis on efficiency and arranging spaces for the least resistance possible. The basic concept of "take a tray or basket into a room when you are tidying up so you can put things that belong elsewhere on it and take them out LATER in ONE GO".
