#Chain link fence netting

[madraynesims]

Wallpaper Converted From: Animal Crossing: New Horizons for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3

Today we celebrate the 4th anniversary of Animal Crossing: New Horizons! Oh, and my 4th anniversary of being on tumblr! This set includes over 300 wallpapers for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3. I will most likely do a Sims 4 version in the future, as that game would require me to create 2 more textures per wallpaper, because it has 3 wall heights, so I'll need more time to make them. In the meantime, SimderTalia has converted some wallpapers to The Sims 4 already, so you could grab those! I will list some of them below. Please let me know if you run into any issues.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons collection file for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3 can be found on my collection files page: Found Here

Disclaimer: The swatch above is just a small showcase of what's included, there is a total of 386 walls. Some walls aren't included because I simply didn't have the texture, or I need more time to recreate it. This conversion only contains still images, some of these are supposed to be animated in Animal Crossing: New Horizons. I would like to release animated versions of them for The Sims 2 in the future.

Downloads:

Animal Crossing: New Horizons Wallpaper For The Sims 2 - SFS For The Sims 3 - SFS For The Sims 4 - N/A Alt Download - Patreon Credits: Most textures extracted by nimaid. A few extracted by @yarn-enquiries. Converted by me Enjoy my work? Consider becoming a Patreon or buying me a coffee!

Wallpaper from Animal Crossing: New Horizons Information: Prices and categories vary based on my best judgement. Texture size: 256x512 Wallpapers NOT included in this set; Brick Garden Wall, Chain-Link Fence, Dungeon Wall, Falling-Snow Wall, Ice Wall, Laboratory Wall, Mermaid Wall, Palace Wall, Rope-Net Wall, Sci-Fi Wall, Server-Room Wall, The Roost and Able Sisters SimderTalia's wallpapers for The Sims 4; Part 1, Part 2, Dreamy Set (includes 5 sets of walls), Kisses Wall, Aurora Wall, Snowflake Wall, Ice Wall, Iceberg Wall and Falling-Snow Wall (no brick/window), Antique Brick Wall and Rose Walls, Able Sisters Wall, Mossy-Garden Wall, Spooky Wall, Sky Wall, Future-Tech Wall and Sci-Fi Wall (stars only), Underwater Wall, Mermaid Wall (background only) and Ocean-Horizon Wall (no clouds), Forest Wall and Mush Wall

[empthy1]

like them? ── .✦ patrick zweig x reader

hallo!! this is more a character study than anything. his loser ways intrigue me. not really happy with the ending :[ hope you enjoy anyways ‪♡. 2k words.

You were perfect.

Your glacé demeanor was the thing that drew him to you. Screw what anyone else said, he deserved a minute amount of softness once in a blue moon.

Especially after a particularly humiliating challenger.

So what if he was distracted by you? That doesn't account for his less than stellar performance, surely (he can blame the motel mattress for the crick in his back) but it sure contributed. That toothy grin was lethal, and you didn't even know it.

He was drawn back to your sparkling eyes every time he hit, the sound of the thwack fading into the back of his mind. He knew you wouldn't catch him—you were watching the ball flicker over the net with every hard strike.

It was only inevitable you would catch him.

The ball sails past him, slamming into the rusted, chain-link fence with a loud crash. It tauntingly lodged in one of the openings. As your eyes dart to catch its motion, you instead catch his dark gaze right on yours.

Patrick plucks the ball from its sunken position and pockets it, shoving it into his too-big shorts. He swore they fit a couple months ago.

He shuffles off the court after a half-hearted handshake with his (much) younger opponent, who gives him a movie star grin—like he’d won Wimbledon and not a backwater challenger.

You're waiting for him at the barrier, hands pressing into the metal. It's gotten a bit nippier, recently, in the late November month.

The sight of your trembling shoulders and fixed gaze makes him bold enough to invite you for a bite to eat.

He’s cute, all bumbling motions and wry, nervous smirks. His hip hits the barrier after one particularly eager motion. He thinks he hides his resulting wince well.

(He does not.)

You ended up in a diner. There were two in the town. He’d learned from the woman at the motel. He only heard half of her sentence as he was dead on his feet, but he distinctly remembers being told one was "absolute shit."

When he took a sip of jet black coffee and felt the bitter, smooth burn on his tongue, he knew he chose the right one.

He tries to start conversation. A cough instantly lodges the second he tries to speak, catching on the buildup in his throat.

“-sorry. Yeah, so… why were you here to watch?” You definitely look too cool for this town. Too cool for him, which is a sentence he never thought he’d think. His younger self would be aghast.

You purse your lips familiarly, and suddenly it's not you sitting across from him but her, tawny skin matte in the diner's shitty lighting and messy braid slung over one shoulder. Your words snap him out of his revere.

"Oh, well, I'm just a fan. You've got such a explosive style... I like it."

Well that's something she'd never say.

The unfamiliar kindness to your tone makes him smile crookedly.

He's different that night, around you. Not that you'd know.

His soft laughter rings through the almost-empty diner. You'd both ordered food by now—just waiting it to be delivered from the noisy kitchen. He can't remember exactly what you'd said that made him laugh like that, tinkling in a way he'd never let escape him before, but he finds he can't really remember.

When your food comes, you do this polite little shimmy back, eyes following the plate of pancakes as it's placed down in front of you. Jesus, that's familiar. He misses seeing how his eyes would go big at every meal, eagerly taking in the veritable mountain of food in front of him.

Then, his hot plate of eggs and toast is placed down in front of him and he can't help but dig in. He forgets all about him, if only for a moment, at the melt of warm, cheesy eggs on his tongue. Yep. Definitely the good diner.

One thing he's used to—feeling hungry. For food, for people, for happiness.

It leads to impulses. Bad ones.

He's accepted dates from so many sleazes. Let them push him and treat him wrong for reasons he doesn't want to think about can't understand.

Whatever. Introspection's a bitch.

He prefers to let them feed him on their dime and then have the mediocre sex they expect from him for their kindness. He slips out after they fall asleep and returns to his apartment or motel room (or car, when it's that bad.)

Oddly enough, you don't give him those urges. The results of his mindless swiping don't feel like the little meet-cute he'd fallen into.

The last thing he expects to do is to slip you his number he scrawled on the receipt for the bill you split. Can't imagine why he's kissing your cheek under the awning, protecting you both from the rain before waving you off—giggling, actually laughing at the view of you as you run to your car, hood pulled up over your head.

Not even a thought ran through him about propositioning you.

He returns to his stuffy motel room, peels off his shirt at the muted hum of the shitty AC. Broken again. He'll be gone by morning, anyway.

Slumping back against the mattress, his eyelids press visions of light eyes and curling hair to his mind. They don't feel as oppressive, as terrifying when their intercut with your voice, your smile.

The next time he sees you, it's colder. Far into winter, his breaths puff clouds into the air. The city is windier than the small town you'd met in, the skyscrapers tunneling the frigid air right against his back.

This was a long time coming. You'd think him younger (or busier) with the way he's glued to his phone—awaiting your messages and, later, calls.

He definitely feels younger; less like a man in his early thirties and more like a teenage girl. He hadn't crushed like this since—

That's enough of that.

The long trudge to your apartment was only caused by the less-than-ideal parking your old building had. By the time he made it to your doorstep, ringing the bell with tingling fingers and rubbing his reddening nose, he was thoroughly frozen.

His clothes was less than ideal, too—unused to being in a place that snows during the winter months. He runs from the freezing temperatures, fearing the slowness they bring and the idleness that may trap him. He flees to California and Florida for the winter, creeping around the coast and clinging on to the barest hints of heat that remain there.

Your apartment is his California, now.

The second the door opens, he's hit with a wave of warmth. The warm air seeps over his skin, coming from the rumbling heater and the scattered burning candles and the happily humming oven.

Yeah. He could get used to that. Especially the bright smile on your face at the sight of him, nose red and eyes squinted despondently.

"Pat. Come in. Jeez—you look cold."

Being swept into your apartment felt intimate. His shoulders tensed at the tug of his coat, unwilling to part with it even if you were just trying to be a good hostess—

Yet, as soon as the heavy fabric slipped off his back, he realized how laden it had been with ice and melted snow, keeping the chill pressed to his skin.

The flannel he had on underneath, layered over a long-sleeve, was much warmer. It seemed to absorb from the air and from his own body heat, insulating his trembling arms. His frozen hands rise to rub at his biceps, before slipping up to bathe in the pocket of heat it'd created.

He doesn't even notice being led to the couch, pressed into the cushion by your gentle hands. He settles heavily against one of your throw pillows.

The bustle of you in the kitchen is firmly background noise now, the faint clicking of a mechanical timer buzzing on the counter. Without the cumbersome weight of the cold, the desire for sleep enfolds his mind. His eyelids droop heavy, burdened no more with gelid crystals of ice.

A melting droplet slips down his cheek, followed soon by a salty one. They runoff, fading into the throw pillow that bears his curly head.

He's knocked out before the timer even beeps.

“Hey, hey.” Is softly cooed in his ear, a warm hand shaking his shoulder.

Oh. It’s Art, waking him up for practice—whatever, five more minutes. He attempts to shrug off the touch and flop on his belly, but his resting place feels smaller than his bed was at Mark Rebellato.

No, the fingers are too slim, and this is definitely closer to twin-sized. Tashi, then. Dude, he just got back from tour yesterday. He huffs and grumbles and tries to roll over again. Can’t she let him sleep in—

But he keeps getting shaken, and he blinks open bleary eyes to find no hint of… them. Just you, blinking down at him with a steaming bowl clutched in your other hand.

His sleep-crusted eyes flutter, caught off-guard at the rush of memories and then the brutal battering of your visage on his brain. Right. You're here, with him—or he's here, with you. In your apartment, on your couch. He'd fallen asleep.

"Dinner, Pat. Have you gotten thinner?"

He probably has. He accepts the bowl greedily, digging the offered fork deep into the white rice and chicken, dripping with a sauce he's never had but supremely enjoys.

It's different, home-cooked meals. He'd never had one, a true one, until he'd met him. To have a member of the family cook and pour hours into a dish was something he'd never seen. He usually didn't even glimpse the cooks, and was shooed from the bustling kitchen anytime he so much as tried to peek in.

The presentation wasn't the masterful art he'd grown to know, with perfectly placed leaves and round dollops of puree. But it steamed, wafting scents into his nose. He appreciated every bite.

You'd flipped on the TV while he was devouring the meal. Once he zones back in, he hears it—a droning voice enunciating familiar words.

"This is live coverage of the Australian Open, looks like the Donaldsons are coming in now—"

His head shoots up.

Gaze contacting with the screen, he glimpses cropped blond and a newly-cut bob. His eyes are downcast, following obediently behind her like an acolyte. Occasionally, he sees his gaze dart up, as if she'd acknowledge him and stray from her warpath.

Yeah, he's seen this before. Keep pushing, Sisyphus. She's no Orpheus.

He finds the strength to turn it off. His thin fingers tug the remote from your lap, impacting the little red button harshly. The place of it on your coffee table echoes.

"...can we go to bed?"

He's never been cradled like this before. After you'd fussed, shoved him into a too-big sweatshirt (he doesn't know where you got it) and graciously let him take his jeans off, you tugged him to your chest and buried your nose in his still-damp hair.

His hands are still warm from the bowl when they snake over your skin. Bared thighs slot against yours, pulled close and tangled in the web that is you.

Usually, he'd struggle. Resist the pull and tug of silken, sticky threads—each one only entrapping him further.

This time, he sinks into them. Surrenders, like a venom-laded fly to be wrapped and ensnared. The sounds of your breathing soothe his restless mind.

You're no longer him, with his smile and the youthful glimmer he used to see. Or her, with your funny, but scathing commentary. He doesn't see her in your focused looks, or hear him in your laughs. They meld together, swirled and blended into an amalgamation.

You soothe the roughened edges of the image. There's no cutting feeling in his gut or the curl of a vice around his ribs.

Just the press of your collarbone against his forehead and your breath through his short tresses.

[moralesmilesanhour]

piece of cake

summary: meeting miles g at a bakery, and other happenings. wc: 3k+ warning: blood, grief (more at the periphery, not a major theme), and lightly implied mommy issues a/n: ngl i was hungry asf when i wrote this. why can't i ever write normal fluff fics anymore. first fic of 2024!!

Brooklyn Middle is closed for winter break. The basketball court where the snow-covered hoop no longer has a net is empty, save for the blinking Christmas lights strung across the chain-link fence.

In a few years, the pizza place across the street where students would linger after school will be demolished, replaced by a shiny new Oscorp building that reflects the sun from all angles of its glass exterior. But for now, the place is just closed early for the holidays, a few blocks away from a bakery.

The tall, bear-like frame of a father dressed in a long black overcoat can be seen entering with a wiry young boy in a red hoodie and bomber jacket tailing close behind. He has an afro as opposed to his father’s closely-cropped hair. The boy keeps trying to straighten his posture - as if his spine would suddenly lengthen and his shoulders would broaden from the act alone. He wants to make himself look important today, because he is on a top-secret mission: 

Operation: Get Mom a Cake.

“I think mom’ll like that one.”

The boy points at a slice of tres leches cake sitting behind a glass display. It’s not as flashy as the other decorative cakes drizzled with chocolate and strawberries or encased in pink frosting, but those wouldn’t melt on the tongue the way tres leches did. 

His father raised an eyebrow at the plain slice, but the boy looked at him with a certainty that he’d never seen before, through eyes nearly identical to his mother’s. The man knew then that he was getting an expert opinion.

“Alright, if you say so,” he chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll take that one, Val.”

The boy smiled proudly at the older woman as she handed him the pink box containing the cake. Mission accomplished.

Now, he looks up and frowns at the Oscorp building blocking the view of where his old school used to be as he picks at a slice of cake with a plastic fork.

The ‘Employees Only’ door behind the counter swings open, and Valeria Cruz hobbles out, removing her apron.

“It’s almost your shift, Miles, hurry up and finish that cake.”

Miles takes one more bite before rising from his seat near the entrance and pushing the paper plate and half-eaten slice into a small trash can.

“You got it, Miss V.”

“Did you take out the trash?”

He pauses, and his eyes widen.

“I’mma get that done right now, Miss V!”

The woman sighs, running a hand through gray and white-streaked curls as the teen sprints out the door and back outside.

A forest green puffer jacket rushes past you on the sidewalk. It’s the same one you had seen shuffling out of the back entrance of Val’s bakery the other morning, lugging two black garbage bags with a purple hoodie obscuring the stranger’s face. 

He probably works there, then, you think. Good. She could use the help.

The place had been packed the week before Officer Morales’ funeral, and for several weeks after. But over time, business began to slow down to a trickle. Hipster cafés and towering condos sprang up and choked out the little pizza shops and restaurants that took their owners’ last names, like when an invasive species of plant grows taller than the local varieties and smothers them, blocking out the sun.

You had been seeing Val’s face since you were in diapers. Families used to go there for birthdays, for elementary school graduations, middle school graduations - or sometimes just to grab something sweet to eat after church on Sundays. You continued the tradition–even if just to buy a tiny bag of cookies–in the hopes that the place might still be standing for your high school graduation. 

The bell above the door rings to signal your entrance. The once baby pink wallpaper has begun to fade, but the late-afternoon sun makes it feel as vibrant as it did when you were twelve. Valeria is standing in front of the display of freshly-baked pastries with her apron folded neatly over her arm.

“Oh, were you about to close up shop?” You begin to take backward steps. “I can come back later–”

“No, no, sweetie, it’s fine!” The woman waves her hand, beckoning you to stay. “I was just about to go on my lunch break. I have someone about to take over for me.”

“It’s cool, I can wait. I saw somebody taking out the trash, that him?”

She sighs wearily, “That’s him, alright. He’s a good kid, but he’s always–”

“Sorry I’m late!”

In rushes Mr. Green Jacket through a chilly gust of wind, who turns to nod in greeting towards you before weaving past Val and behind the counter, where he disappears through the ‘Employees Only’ door.

“That boy, I swear. Never on time!”

He reappears sans the jacket, wearing a white apron identical to the one Val is holding. The name tag on it reads ‘Miles’. 

Miles. Where have you heard that name before…?

The hood on his sweater is no longer pulled over his head, revealing two neat cornrows that cascade all the way down his neck. The surrounding hair has been shaved and faded at the nape of his neck and hairline. He’s the sort of brown-skinned that looks golden when the sunlight hits his face as he approaches the cash register. 

“You gonna be alright for the next half hour?” asked Val with an eyebrow raised.

Miles drummed his fingers on the counter and grinned. “Yup, I got it.”

“Don’t destroy anything while I’m gone!”

“I won’t, promise.”

She pushes the door open with a skeptical look and leaves.

With this new stranger temporarily in charge, you carefully approach the counter. He looks up at you with curious brown eyes.

“Whatchu want?”

“Um…” you blink before remembering what you were here for. “Just sugar cookies, please.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

He turns to grab a paper bag, then bends to drop the desired amount of cookies into it with the pair of tongs that sit on the inside of the display.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what school you go to? I haven’t seen you around here before, feel like I’d remember you if I had.”

Miles pops his head over the counter and tilts his head with a cheeky grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You avoid eye contact, shifting from one foot to the other. Suddenly it’s not so cold anymore.

“I-I don’t know. You just seem memorable.”

He laughs a raspy, breathy laugh and hands you the bag of cookies over the counter. His hand is much larger than yours with slender fingers at the end of it, but still manages to appear almost clumsy-looking. Big enough to be a man’s, but with only half the dexterity.

“I go to Visions.”

“Fancy. You like it over there?”

“It’s aight. Kinda uptight, but my dad always said it was a ‘good opportunity’, so I stayed.”

You hum in consideration. 

“Can't do everything for your parents, though. They'll have you living their dreams before you know it.”

The smile fades a bit, and Miles averts his gaze.

“Well my dad passed, so I just figured I’d just do this one thing for him.”

You cover your mouth with your palm.

“I'm so sorry, I–”

“It's fine,” he snorts without any humor. “You might be the only one that doesn't know who my daddy is. Kind of a relief.”

Miles encloses the money you just gave him in the slot beneath the cash register with a loud snap. 

“You need anything else?”

You chew on your bottom lip in embarrassment and clutch your bag of cookies.

“No. Thank you.”

He doesn’t look up from the register.

“Have a nice day.”

Your mother is leaning on the window sill, nibbling on a granola bar when you get back home. She’s silent, which means she is observing. You’ll need to tread carefully. 

“I brought cookies.”

She gives you a sidelong glance.

“Val’s cookies?”

“Yup, same as always.”

“That lady still working there all by herself?”

“She hired somebody to help out, actually - I saw a boy working the register.”

She notices the upward inflection in your voice at the mention of a boy, which interests her more than the cookies.

“What’s he look like?”

“He’s got, um,” you make a gesture over your head. “Twin braids–cornrows–and a green jacket? Kinda tall, too.”

Your mother nods, thoughtful. The description rings a bell, but she needs to confirm.

“You catch his name?”

“Miles, I think.”

“Lord,” she gasps, fully turning to face you. “That’s that Morales boy! I used to work with his momma, bless her heart. Barely saw his face after the funeral.”

The image of Miles’ face at the mention of his dad makes you cringe at your comment earlier. How could you not recognize him? He practically stole his face from the mural that was plastered above the precinct. You had only heard the boy’s name uttered once by your mother over the phone at 2:00 A.M., whispered like a secret.

“I can’t imagine how it must be for Miles. Didn’t he just get into that nice school down there? Of course they’ll have to let him go home. He should be with his mother.”

“He was such a sweet little boy. Then I saw him the other day?” 

She shook her head, “Look like a different person. He had them flashy studs in his ears, nose pierced and everything.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he had tattoos under that coat as well. Damn shame.”

“He seemed nice when I saw him,” you remark quietly in a weak attempt to defend his character, despite having known him for all of five minutes. “Sweet, like you said.”

Your mother’s face hardens, all of her attention now focused on you as she folds the wrapping of the granola bar.

“That’s why you’re not bringing no boys home ‘till you’re eighteen,” she sharply reminds you. “‘Seems nice’ - How you know if he’s really nice or not?”

Again, Miles’ face appears in your mind’s eye. He didn’t seem to want your pity - rejected it, even. And what of his apparent chronic lateness? 

Still…

“You don’t know that, either,” you say despite yourself. “I spoke to him while I was there.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow. 

“Girl, I know that look. I better not see you runnin’ around with that boy, understand me?”

She looks set on not changing her mind now, so you only nod in defeat.

“Yes, ma’am.”

In your head, you’re already making plans to hit up the bakery tomorrow - both to apologize and to see the sun kissing Miles’ face again. Maybe tomorrow he’d even have the piercings in.

But when you get there the next day under the guise of ‘a trip to the corner store’, Miles isn’t at the register. 

The sky has turned a pale shade of gray, and it has begun to drizzle. Pulling your navy blue coat tightly around you, you consider turning back around when–

Boom!

The sound of something hitting a trash can from behind the establishment catches your attention. It could be him taking out the trash at the last minute again.

Your assumption is proven only halfway correct.

Stepping over discarded boxes and tin cans, you find Miles doubled over, clutching his side. “Are you okay?” 

Startled, bloodshot eyes glance at you before focusing on the ground.

“Fucking fantastic,” he grunts painfully.

As you get closer, you can see a dark stain blooming from where his hand is. A sick feeling swirls in your stomach.

“Oh my God, do you need me to call somebody?”

“Nah, I’m…I’m straight,” Miles says through labored breaths. “I just gotta…patch myself up before I get home.”

You whip out your phone and frantically unlock it.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

“Hell no–”

“You are bleeding!”

He tilts his head towards a duffle bag lying near his feet. 

“I got First Aid in there…that’ll do me just fine.”

When he tries to reach for the bag, his knees give out, causing him to collapse right next to it.

-

Miles shivers as you gingerly wrap white bandages around his waist, the flat expanse of skin on his stomach partially exposed to the elements. He fades in and out of consciousness, between your face and black nothingness. When he’s awake, he stares up at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t call 9-1-1, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you tell him with a grin. “This should stop the bleeding, but I can’t help you beyond that.”

“Wusyaname?” he mumbles, head lolling towards you. He’s on the brink of passing out again.

“Call me (Y/N).”

“Wasn’t gon’ call you anything else.”

“Shut up, I just saved your life.”

“Mmmm-hm,” Miles hums with a lazy smile that makes you wonder if he’s becoming delirious.

“Eeeeverybody loves sayin’ that. Everybody always…”

His eyelids get heavy before he can finish the thought, and he finally blacks out again in your lap. 

-

There’s a short line inside the bakery that weekend, and you wonder if Miles has anything to do with it. 

Word seemed to get around mysteriously fast that the former teenaged recluse had come out of hiding after that conversation (if you could even call it that) with your mother. From where you’re sitting–by the window, nibbling on a sugar cookie, observing–Miles does not seem to enjoy the attention.

Or maybe you’re just imagining the strained smile on his face as the line of customers becomes a Greek chorus of gasps and squeals.

“You got so big!”

“What did you do to your hair?”

“Oh, you look just like Jeff.”

“How’s Rio?”

“Good to see you out and about again.”

The sparkling curiosity is nearly drained from his face by the time he joins you at the end of his shift with a slice of cake. He does not have the fabled nose piercing in, but two diamond studs sparkle when the light hits them every time he moves his head.

“So?”

“So…?”

“Are you alright after I found you the other day? I saw you limping back there.”

Miles rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine. My mom’s literally a nurse. She got me straight.”

“What’d you tell her? Looked like you broke a rib.”

“Far as she’s concerned, I fell off my bike.”

“I’ve never seen you on a bike.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

You shrug. Touche.

“What did you have to say to me that was worth stalking me after my shift?”

“Stalking?”

“You buy the same thing every time, you think I ain’t notice?” Miles smirks, like a detective who’s just gotten a confession. “Who goes to a bakery and only gets cookies?”

“Lay off me, man, these are excellent,” you take another bite for emphasis. “Anyways, I actually came to apologize.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “For what?”

“For what I said the first time I saw you. I didn’t know you were that Miles.”

The corners of Miles’ lips pull downwards into a frown. 

“That’s it?”

“Mm, well…”

You bite your lip by force of habit.

“I also wanted to talk to you again. Under better circumstances. That your favorite type of cake?”

Miles looks down at his plate when you point to it with your fork, as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

“Yeah, tres leches. What about it?”

“I dunno, I just always see you eating that and nothing else. Is there a reason?”

You expect to say something about the sweetness, or the texture, but instead he answers:

“It always tastes the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…” He puts down his fork and starts to construct an analogy in his head.

“It’s like when you see an ice cream truck. You run up to it before it drives off, and what do you ask for? First thing that pops into your head?”

“Vanilla?”

“Exactly. You could try one of the other ones, but what if it tastes like ass? Now you stuck eating something you don’t like–”

“And it’s a waste of money.”

“Exactly!” Miles laughs. “You get it. My mom makes fun of me because I’ve been eating the same thing since I was five. But it’s always good! And the same amount of good.”

“Can’t argue with that.” 

You tap your nails on the table, thinking. 

“But what if you find a new flavor that you really like?”

He shrugs, “Then lucky me, I guess. But that doesn’t tend to happen.”

“It could happen, though.”

He watches the strange way you eat. Slowly, teeth-first, as if you’re afraid to make a mess. It’s weirdly dainty, which makes him chuckle beneath his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-uh, don’t do that. What’s so funny?”

Miles gives you that same head tilt again.

“It’s cute, the way you eat.”

Your hand freezes just as it’s about to lift another cookie to your mouth, and you stare at him blankly.

“That’s…”

He pauses too. 

“...Weird, yeah. Sorry. I dunno why I said that.”

A beat of silence passes that’s so heavy with awkwardness, that the two of you can’t help but burst into poorly-stifled laughter.

You lean forward with your chin resting in your hand. “That’s fine. I kept coming here just to spy on you, so I guess I’m weird, too.”

“Ah, so you admit it!”

“Hey, if I wasn’t bein’ a total creep, you might’ve bled out next to the garbage dump. Val can’t lose a valuable employee, right?”

“If you put it that way.”

You can see the white of some of Miles’ teeth peeking out as he smiles. One of his canines is charmingly crooked, and sharper than the others. When the smile fades, he suddenly looks uncertain.

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Ask away.”

“Do you wanna make this,” he gestures between you, “like, a regular thing? Y’know, ‘meeting under better circumstances’.”

It’s your turn for a smile to spread across your face. 

“We should. Whatever you did to end up bleeding out in the rain, I guess I’d be a witness now.”

“M-hm. Can’t have you yappin’ about that to my customers,” He plays along, then winks. “I’mma need your number too, just in case.”

Just before you reach for your phone in your pocket, you hear your mother’s voice in your head, casting a shadow over the whole thing and giving you pause.

All jokes aside, Miles had never explained what had landed him in that predicament behind the bakery in the first place. He’s always late. He lies to his mother. You’re about to lie to your mother. 

But the sun is hitting his face again, and with the light bouncing off of his pupils, he looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly. The shadow remains at the corner of your eye. Just the corner.

You grin and hand him your phone.

“You got it. Just in case.”

[beansprean]

A beautiful Carol commission from @fanfic-fugue!!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: Full body of Carol in a filthy alleyway at night, wearing a dark green string bikini top, ratty high-waisted burgundy jean shorts, thigh high black socks littered with tears and holes, and very dirty cream roller skates. There is part of a torn-up fishing net around her chest and shoulders like a loose crop top and a strip of caution tape is tied to her belt loops like suspenders, flying loose behind her as she skates toward the viewer with a big fangy smile, flashing a peace sign. Her eyes are large and blank white, staring at the viewer, with wavy locks of dark hair falling haphazardly over her face. Her exposed skin is wet and slightly scaly, porcupine-like quills sticking out from her shoulders and head. She is leaving a trail of bright green slime behind her, leading back to an uncovered manhole at the end of the alley that is glowing from within. Behind that is a chain link fence covered in a dirty blue tarp. Stretching out beside her is a sidewalk against a brick wall with a rusty green dumpster, all covered with graffiti. On the wall behind the dumpster, there is a large artistic tag in purple with a crown on top that reads "Simon the Devious". Nearby, someone has written "Nandor was here" much less artistically in drippy red capital letters. Someone started to write "Guillermo" in green underneath it, but someone else crossed it out in the same red paint and then written "not you." The dumpster itself hosts an artist tag on the side in bright green with some bubble borders that says "beansprean." A gutter climbs the wall to the right of the dumpster and a purple and green can of LaCroix has been painted on the wall on the other side. Next to the dumpster is some very dirty garbage: A broken down cardboard box half-shoved behind it, a crumpled pizza box that says "Baron's Pizza," a few empty bottles, an abandoned flannel shirt, and an empty milk carton that says "Memo's Man Milk," with a small photo of Guillermo on the side. The entire scene looks radioactive, lit with neon green like an arcade or a 90s Batman film. / end ID

[adelaidedrubman]

(reformatting for top post maxing) wip whenever i fucking say it is

i was tagged yesterday by my beloved @g0dspeeed for wip day and scrambling in a day late to say yeah, it is.

here’s an older bit from hook, line, and sinker chapter 4 (which will happen eventually). also apologizing because i believe i have posted small excerpts of this before but i needed to share the full scene for reasons.

It never came — instead he felt his back slam into the metal net of the fence as hands caught beneath his arms, shoving him against the chain link.  “A-Ah!” his hands found the gaps of the chain link, and he hurried to curl his fingers around the wire to stabilize himself.  He heard a low growl, then felt the hands gripping below his arms slide down his sides to squeeze his hips, pulling them toward her only to slam him harder against the fence.  “Look what you fucking did!” she screeched at him, pressing her thumbs down against his hips so hard they ached from the ridges of bone cutting against skin.  He finally blinked his eyes open at the command, finding her furious, smoldering glare and following it to the place it pointed at the ground, aimed at the glistening cascade of ice and fish sliding along the hill as if the entire school had chosen to swim downstream in a hurry.  “That was an entire fucking day’s catch! Gone!”

John narrowed his own eyes before fixing them back on her scowling face. He tightened his grip on the fence and attempted to straighten his legs and gently lower himself to the ground to beat her to her undoubtedly intended punch of dropping him — his efforts quickly thwarted as her hands shifted to the backs of his thighs to keep him propped up and at her mercy, hanging there wriggling for freedom like a fish dangling from her hook.  But he wouldn’t helplessly gape and flounder like one. Instead he stretched his back to push against her and test her force as he replied, plastering a pleasant and casual smile on his face in spite of the situation.  “We’ll add it to our ledger then, hm?” he hummed, tilting his head to the side with a sweet flutter of his eyelashes. “I owe you one plastic cooler — does forty-eight quarts sound right? Plus fair market value for all the fish — I’ll trust your inventory, fishermen are famously honest. And let’s not forget the $2.99 for the bag of ice, of course. And you…” He dropped his smile, neck snapping forward. “You owe me a fucking boat!” “You owe me your fucking life,” she hissed, lunging forward with teeth bared in turn. “I didn’t have to catch you,” she grumbled, glare darting suddenly downward as she did. “I could have caught the fuckin’ cooler…” “Yes, well…” he glanced to the side at the cooler laying on its side and spilling its contents onto the pavement. She could have caught it instead, and he was rather surprised she didn’t — but he wouldn’t waste time speculating on what misfired reflex led to the result, because it certainly wasn’t a matter of human compassion. “I wouldn’t have needed catching, had you not wrecked my —” “Enough fucking yapping!” she barked authoritatively as she shoved him back, chain link clinking and screeching as it stretched with his weight pushed against it. He felt the hard bends of the metal dig into his back, cold air hitting his stomach as a fast and forceful hand shoved the hem of his shirt up past his collarbones. “Mouth open.” “Wha —” 

sending belated and good for whenever wip day tags out to my beloveds @wrathfulrook @fourlittleseedlings @galaxycunt @cassietrn @florbelles @g0dspeeed @unholymilf @belorage @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @socially-awkward-skeleton @corvosattano @inafieldofdaisies @direwombat @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @blissfulalchemist @deputyash @confidentandgood @captastra @voidika @just-another-wasteland-merc @strangefable @8bitpizzacoupons @stacispratt @orionlancasterr @v0idbuggy @jackiesarch @strafethesesinners @henbased @simplegenius042 @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @quickhacked @miyabilicious @nightbloodbix @thedeadthree @shellibisshe + join/unjoin my wip day tag list by liking/unliking here!

[hrryshoney]

TEA im so excited for ur tennis!au

i feel like matty would press himself up against the chain link and claw at it every time reader makes a point and when they’re allowed a break instead of going to the side/net for water reader would go to matty for water and he’d push the bottle through one of the links and she’d sip from there 😞😞

IM SO GLADDD literally dedicated to u atp!!

omg nina this is so crazy. he def would and be so obnoxious cheering for her, lots of ‘that’s my girl’ are being thrown out. shaking the fence and wolf whistling he is a Boy. her going over to him so bashfully bc of how loud he’s being and he’s like “What, going shy on me? Thought you liked when I was loud.” OMG THE WATER😣 her being like “babe can u pass me my bottle” and he’s like “yeah, open up” with the biggest grin ever. so she tilts her head to get the right angle and he pushes the opening of the bottle through the link and pours it in her mouth. (can u imagine the edits that wld be made im cryin) he would whisper a dirty comment abt how if they weren’t on the court he would spit it in her mouth ok sorry🤷🏼‍♀️

[kalpasio]

Batter Up

First Base

A Kalpas x Reader Soulmate AU, Chapter 1 below!

You loved playing baseball with your coworkers, but making the teams could be such a pain in the ass. Because half of the office knew who their soulmate was, but it was never even. If it didn’t give you such an advantage, no one would care, but you all knew how much of an impact having your soulmate watch made. Professional sports teams wouldn’t even consider players who hadn’t met their partner. Sure, there were a few couples in the office that could just be put on opposite teams like Seele and Bronya, but not everyone was so lucky.

Some were like Sakura who had met her soulmate, but Kallen wasn’t always available to watch. Her job as a detective meant she had a sporadic schedule and missed games even if she originally said she could make it. The majority of the office, however, was in the same boat as you.

Your soulmate was still out there somewhere, and this was your chance to find them. All around the city, there were open areas that could be used to play different sports. Rather than fencing them off from the public, however, the space was easily visible, that way, passing pedestrians might catch a glimpse of a future partner.

Every other week, your office would reserve the field to play baseball (for ‘team building’) and every other week, you’d be out there hoping to suddenly start playing better. As much as you valued this opportunity, setting up with a n uneven number of soulmates really made you question if all this aggravation was worth it.

“Why can’t we just send one person with a match home?”

“We’d have an uneven number of players,” Dr. Mei closed her eyes and sighed. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to explain, and she doubted it would be the last.

“Look, each team has more than enough players, we can survive with one less,” you suggested. You just wanted to get this show on the road, even if it was an unfair contest.

“I can go,” Kiana raised her hand. “I need to buy some groceries for dinner anyway.”

“If you leave, we’ll just be back where we stared, you’d have to stay for Mei or we’re still not even on soulmates.” (Having two ‘Mei’s in the office was not at all confusing)

“I’ll go,” Durandal raised her hand this time. Normally Rita would be on the field as well, but she decided to sit out to finish up some work.

It had taken twenty minutes, but finally, you all got on your teams and sorted out everyone’s position. Since your team had the extra player, Sakura offered to bat, but not play in the field. She had hit more homeruns than anyone else in the office, but couldn’t throw to save her life, so there were no objections.

At first, the teams were even, though it was clear those with their partners watching were carrying most of the weight. Around the third inning, you saw Sakura jog over to the fence while you were getting set up at first base. Her sister, Rin, was there, fingers curling through the chain-links while she practically bounced up and down. Next to her was probably the most intimidating man you had ever seen.

His arms were crossed to show just how thrilled he was to be there. He wore black slacks and a blazer, similar to what you’d seen Kallen wear to work, but her muscles weren’t nearly as obvious through the fabric as this guys. It didn’t help that the net behind the batter was casting a shadow over his face to cover what you were certain was a permanent glare.

Raven, your pitcher, whistled sharply to get your attention and gave a smug grin when your head whipped back around. Giving a sheepish smile, you adjusted your glove and got ready for the next inning.

And that would have been that. Sakura talking to her weirdly creepy friend (or was he Rin’s friend?) at the baseball game between rounds. Except you started playing better. Like. Way better. Only an inning later your team had pulled ahead a noticeable amount, almost entirely because of you. At first, there was a bit of grumbling from the other side, but once it became clear what was happening, everyone just seemed excited to finish the game. Some because they were sore losers, but most of your coworkers wanted you to go find your soulmate.

As soon as the game was over, you ran to the fence to ask for your soulmate. Of the five or six people who had been watching, two had left before you even got over to them. The third told you she had been to a couple of your group’s games now. If she was your soulmate, you would have known by now. The rest were happy to give you their number, but it wasn’t apparent that one was your match. With a sigh, you walked back to the dugout to pack up before heading home. On the way out, you stopped to talk to Sakura for a minute.

“Any luck?” Your coworker turned to face you, still holding onto Rin’s hand.

“I got a few numbers but none of them really stand out you know?” you shrugged. “I’ll try talking to them and hopefully next time we play I’ll get a definite answer.”

“It wasn’t obvious for me and Kallen at first. Give it some time,” Sakura sent you a smile. “This is Kalpas, by the way,” she waved to the man who showed up with Rin. He still looked angry; the only difference was that you were up close now instead of far away. “He actually works with Kallen, but we were friends long before they met.”

With a polite smile you held out your hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.” Kalpas grunted and looked down at your hand but made no move to return the gesture. After a few seconds of awkwardly standing there, you were about to pull your hand back when Rin reached up and took hold of it.

“You’re supposed to shake hands!” she said. “Like this!” The girl shook your hand harshly up and down way too many times, but you appreciated her enthusiasm. When she finally stopped, you gave a small laugh and pulled your hand back to rest on the strap between your shoulder and your bag.

“Well, I gotta get going,” you nodded your head in the direction of your car. “I’ll see you on Monday!” The three of you waved as you walked off and Kalpas remained still as a statue, brooding as always.

“I don’t think it’s me,” Derek shook his head. He had invited you over to play some video games on the weekend after the two of you had spent the week prior texting. It was meant to be a relaxed date, but you both knew you were testing your soulmate bond. The fact that you both were struggling with a game as simple as Mario made it apparent that the bond simply wasn’t there.

Turning to look at him, the grimace on Derek’s face matched yours. “That’s what I was afraid of.” You sighed. “I really have enjoyed talking with you though.”

“Oh same here!” he was quick to agree, bringing back a bit of your smile. “And you don’t have to go, we can keep hanging out. I just don’t want to act like there’s something going on between us when there’s not.”

“Right, no I get it. I actually have some errands to run so I’m gonna head out, but we should keep in touch!”

“Yeah of course!”

You stood from the couch with Derek following as you grabbed your things and stood by the door. Both of you were clearly uncomfortable and you couldn’t wait to get out of this apartment. The smile you gave as you left was forced, but so was his. You both knew there weren’t any errands, you just needed some space for now. Derek might make a good friend in a few weeks but the disappointment of not finding your soulmate was hard to ignore.

On the bright side, you only had the rest of this week before your next baseball game, and you’d already scheduled with Nick for him to be there. Given that Derek wasn’t your partner, and you only had two choices to begin with, it seemed likely Nick was your soulmate, but you wanted to be sure.

Over the past week you had felt like you got along better with Derek, but you may have just been too focused on one person; or maybe you and Nick just hadn’t found the right topic to talk about. Regardless, you were excited for this Friday.

“Your soulmate gonna be there tonight?”

“I hope so!” The workday seemed to drag on forever. It felt like your computer knew you wanted time to go faster, and it was intentionally freezing on every document you tried to open.

Even though you potentially had your soulmate waiting for you, the teams were balanced out like you still weren’t matched. That way, if Nick is your soulmate, you would be able to tell.

He was right on time, giving you a wave and a huge smile that you returned. As soon as the game started, your eyes were practically glued to the scoreboard, waiting for your team to pull ahead. But it never happened.

You ended up losing so badly that your team forfeited after the seventh inning.

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Your voice was quiet, the disappointment clear. Nick for his part at least seemed to be putting on a brave face.

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” he said. “I keep going to games and thinking I’ve found my soulmate only to come up with nothin.”

You winced, feeling bad for adding to his list of not-soulmates. “I hope you find them soon?”

“Same goes for you!”

The walk to the dugout was too long and you could feel the pitying eyes of your coworkers on you the whole way.

“No luck?” Kallen looked up from where she had squatted to fuss over Rin’s hair.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p,’ frustration evident. “I wouldn’t be so bummed but that was my last lead. That means my soulmate walked off before I even saw them and who knows when I’ll see them again.”

“Want me to pull up the surveillance footage?” Kallen joked and almost fell over when Sakura nudged her.

You gave a nervous laugh, “while I’m sure you have cameras everywhere, I think I’m all set.” That would be a fun conversation to have. ‘Yeah, I think we might be soulmates so I had my coworker’s wife pull up some secret police cameras to find out who you are and where you live. Wanna get food this Saturday?’

I'm gonna be honest, I know very little about Kallen, I kinda just made her character up as I went oops?

[emeraldcitynerdfighter]

The late September sun fell toward the horizon, taking with it the warmth of the day. The leaves on the trees scattering the park matched the blazing golden hues of the sky.

Nobody was on the field -- it was fall, so most had opted for the wide open grass patches for pickup games of soccer and football -- so it wasn't hard to spot Max. Thin and muscular, her hair still cropped short, Max loitered against the chain link fence encircling the field.

Carson hollered at her as she approached, her gear bag thumping against her leg as she walked. "And how is UNI's youngest head softball coach doing? Gone to your head yet?"

Max turned her head at the call, a sly grin pulling at her lips when her gaze landed on Carson.

"I can't hear you over the sound of being the winningest head coach of UNI softball!" Max called back, a grin pulling at her lips.

They embraced, and wasted no time heading out to the field and starting a game of catch. Carson slipped on her mask and catcher's glove, while Max paced the forty feet away from Carson.

"It's been a while since you've caught a real pitch. Think you can handle it?" Max set her feet, spinning her ball in the palm of her glove.

"You forget I coach high school," Carson teased, squatting down and holding her glove up. "I can catch anything, especially the bad ones." She winked at Max behind her mask.

"We've known each other for a decade, Carson," Max smirked, teeing up her first ball. "I never throw a bad pitch."

Carson wanted to go to UNI Rockford because of the education program, but mostly because of Max Chapman. Max's name already came up in collegiate softball circles.

When they first met, she wasn't star-struck, per se, but when Carson got a call from the recruiting office to come to a round of warm-ups with the entire softball roster, the nerves almost kept her away entirely. She was never paired with Max during the practice; if she was, she might've just fallen over at the plate.

Max, as it turned out, became her first friend in Rockford.

Her first week on campus -- alone and apprehensive, away from home for the first time -- she wandered up and down the main streets, away from the main part populated by students. A park, about two miles from campus. She nearly passed by it, until a peculiar sight caught her attention.

Away from campus, unbeknownst to anyone else in the park, was Max Chapman.

Carson watched her, awe-struck, at the power and precision with which Max hammered balls into the practice net, eating through the bin of balls at her side.

She lost track of how long she'd been watching when a voice startled her.

"You just gonna stand and gawk at me, or are you gonna come be my catcher?"

read the rest on aO3

Let me know what you think, Fruits!

[hagfishviperfish]

Weird ass dream. The kind that makes you nostalgic. I live in a small town, my high school was more closeknit than others — that is to say almost all of those kids were evil but i digress, everyone knew each other.

My dream initially was that I missed the busses after school. I called my mom and she was at work, so she could not pick me up until 6:00. Which meant I had to kill time until then. It gave me the opportunity to realize how lively my high school was after hours — kids congregating on the soccer fields, football field, track, parking lot, it was as if its own little fair. So strange to see people you know doing their little things. In my dream I saw the faces of people who I haven’t seen in a long time, nigh forgot about, people who I won’t see ever again. And the faces of people who look like the type of people to live in my town.

Most were playing sports; I discovered a law school campus that was apparently on the property of my school that I hadn’t known about; I met one of my friends and hung out with him for a bit, found a dude on Tinder that looked exactly like him and with the same name but was like visibly 22 and I was like lmaooo dude look at this.

There is an event where the high school band comes in, followed by the graduates of my class, they share what they’re majoring in in college, and a quarter of mean girls were studying graphic design and they hated it and I laughed at them. It was particularly nostalgic

There is a silly little rave party thrown a guy I knew, who was fairly popular. It’s in those net tents you see used for baseball practice. I go there and dance a little with my childhood friend who dated him in middle school.

I stumble across a boy I had little feelings for for years — from elementary school to senior year — he was standing in between chain link fences, in security guard armor but it was like football stuff, so I guessed that was his job here. He was enthusiastic to see me, which was much to my surprise since we hardly talked at all (in senior year he started interacting with me every so often, much to my surprise.)

The dream changes here. I am this sewer siren queen hunted by my high school, living several grotesque layers in the deepsea underground, and he is the one who is supposed to be hunting me the hardest. Except every action he makes is deliberately to divert my pursuers away from me in order to protect me. We are lovers in that way, the brief moments where he sees me to “kill” me, but rather it is a fond reunion where we look at each other with mischevious devotion and adoration and then he must leave, to not draw too much attention to me and our affiliation. Every hour and decision of his life is dedicated to making sure I stay alive. He stands proud over a toilet in the school bathroom with a deep, deep canal drilled into it, what the students call a “sewer portal”, knowing I used it to escape, announcing to his equals “she is not in this one; try another one.”

He climbs through my canals smiling, there are grotesque and strange strata underneath our school, pink wet stone, sandstone, marbled jade and stone, and the structure of the tunnel he recognizes as my digging, impressed that I managed to stomach such odd layers of soil

This story of a favorite siren and its best hunter is a reoccuring theme for the rest of the dream.

There are other notable moments, where my art teacher says I have an opportunity to spread my art, to become a genuine admired artist, because people have already expressed interest in my work for her class. I make sketches; one of them a pile of moldy rotten oranges, in which a rabid squirrel or fox is eating them out of wild desperation, and a healthy fox is walking in the foreground, observing its parallel

Another where I’m in walmart with a friend, at the side of another boy; saying “I’m like hahahaha I’m L from deathnote” for some reason, just to mess with him. He’s like yeah whatever, unamused, I show him a pretty collar necklace I found, knowing the implications, and he’s like perhaps, and he tightens it on my neck for me

Then I dig another hole and leave because I am a sewer siren now.

Flickers of standing in a deep sea realm, underground, occasionally visited by a certain playful divercaver… I pick what I want the fish version of my pets to look like, laugh at the way my cat looks when she floats down and turn to tell my mother only for her to yell at me because she’s stressed out and busy. Rain World shelter on our football bleachers, he swims to me to find Minecraft mods, but I am looking from his eyes this time, I notice him and pick my way over to him, and we enjoy our presence together eagerly, while he sips from the glass of this mod that implements strawberry juice in Minecraft— and it tastes wonderful.

Then he hides me in the shelter because there are centipedes — it is particularly deeper, with water, to compensate for me there, and comes along to be around me for the night

[quickretain]

North Richmond's Trusted Retaining Wall Supplier Quick Retain Now Listed on The Business Awards

Quick Retain is your go-to expert for residential retaining walls in North Richmond. Our range includes high-quality retaining wall concrete sleepers, designed to offer superior support and enhance the beauty of your landscape.

[jiake-factory]

JIAKE Wire Mesh Welding Machines Manufacturer

JIAKE factory is a professional manufacturer of automatic wire mesh welding machines in China!

We have more than 25+ Years of experience, exported to more than 130+ countries.

The wire mesh welding machines used European welding technology and foreign brand equipment, high speed, and high production.

MAIN PRODUCTS wire mesh welding machine: welded mesh fence/panel machine, welded mesh machine for construction, reinforcement mesh welding production line, chicken cage welding machine, wedged wire screen welding machine

Wire drawing machine: iron wire drawing machine, stainless steel wire drawing machine.

other wire mesh weaving machines: razor barbed wire machine, barbed wire machine, gabion mesh machine, gabion mesh fence machine, full automatic gabion mesh production line, hexagonal wire netting machine, chain link fence weaving machine, automatic chain link fence weaving machine, semi-automatic chain link fence weaving machine, hinge joint knot field fence machine and perforated metal mesh machine.

Expanded metal mesh machine: heavy-duty expanded metal mesh machine, Standard Type metal mesh machine, Micro Type metal mesh machine, expanded metal fence machine, diamond expanded mesh machine.

[cheunggsteel]

CheungG Steel Group LLC is a leading manufacturer and supplier of fence systems and steel in China.

The CheungG Steel Group is one of the original supplier of fence and steel to the China construction industry. CG Steel its origins to 1997 with the formation of the wire mesh factory. We are the preferred supplier to the China Building and Highway sector and we’ve been doing so for more than 20 years. With the business abroad continuing to expand, and in order to meet customer demand. CheungG Steel Group, which operates export business, started operation from Year 2023.

With a strong legacy in product & service Innovation, CheungG continues to partner with our customers to identify cost and time efficiencies on their next job. Our expert team and comprehensive range ensure no matter what the project needs are, big or small, we’ll be there to provide the right support as a “one-stop” customized  purchasing.

Proudly Chinese since 1997, all CheungG Steel products remain 100% CN made with international quality assurance and compliance with CN standards. We believe that the reliability of trusted partnerships reinforce the foundations of every successful project.

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Dear Sir/Madam,

We hope to build a long term business relationship with you, Kindly Email or WhatsApp us if you are interested in below mention Items. Email: sales7@cheunggsteel.com, WhatsApp:+8618003388789.

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[chinanetlon]

Diamond Safety Fence

With the diamond mesh type , this safety barrier is more like a chain-link fence. It is heavy duty , normally more than 240gsm,quite strong . This rigid netting is more durable in extended outdoors using. It canbe widely used as security fence, border fence, garden fence, and snow fence for some high required area.

[mayhemproduces]

Joshua Bishop (c) vs Effy- MPW World Championship

Looking around the ring right now, it appears Paul Heyman went all out for the budget for Vegas this year when it comes to plunder. Effy vs Joshua Bishop already had a big fight feel coming into this one, but now the ringside area is littered with weapons, there’s a chain link cage wall ziptied to one of the sides of the ring, there’s a platform with a barbed wire net at ringside, several garbage cans filled with weapons, boxes of light tubes and panes of glass all around ringside. On another side of ringside, there looks to be a chain link fence suspended from two chains, as if it was some sort of drawbridge. A nasty setup, for what was sure to be a nasty match.

The usual fishnet tights and trunks were absent for Effy tonight, instead trading them in for a crop top and jeans, and even the MPW World Champion Joshua Bishop had elected to wear a pair of jeans out here tonight. Make no mistake about it, our main event this evening isn’t a wrestling match, this is a FIGHT. 

“Las Vegas, Nevada… It is now time for your main event of the evening! People of the Brooklyn Bowl, and those watching around the world… 

ARE YOU READY FOR A FIGHT?!” 

Big fight feel provided by our darling ring announcer, Steve Guy, as always. 

“Your main event of the evening is a singles competition, scheduled for one fall, to be conducted under Atlas Rules… and it is for the MPW World Championship! Introducing first, the challenger…” 

Effy tightens the headband around his forehead, and looks dead ahead at the MPW World Champion, Joshua Bishop. Effy, who’s only ever had one shot at the MPW World Title, despite being here since day one, knows how few and far between these opportunities come. He can’t afford to not put up the fight of his life tonight. 

“Standing in the corner to my left… THIS! IS! EFFY!” 

The challenger who demands simply three words from his introduction, the enigma that is Effy, already victorious in a similar situation a couple weeks ago, winning at GCW Cage of Survival. The setup out here tonight looks very similar to that night, but one could argue, the stakes tonight, much higher. 

“And his opponent, standing in the corner to my right…” 

Perhaps the most dominant competitor in MPW history… 

“Fighting out of Rip City, and being accompanied to the ring by Maserati Wes Barkley, representing The Rip City Shooters, he weighed in this morning at 270 pounds, he is your reigning, defending MPW World Champion, for the past 155 days, he is Mr. Up for Anything, The Intense Icon, Joshua Bishop!” 

Recently passed Rickey Shane Page for the 3rd longest MPW World Championship reign, the next milestone comes in just 35 days at Day 190, where he will pass both Lilith Brookes & VENY, tied for the second longest reign in MPW history. If he makes it there, ittl be 92 days to unseat Abigail as the longest reigning MPW World Champion, and the Intense Icon shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. But perhaps it all comes to a screeching halt here tonight. If Effy has a say in the matter, Bishop won’t make it to day 156. 

A very split crowd tonight, which one might expect from two very popular MPW stars like this. Both press their noses together, eye to eye, nose to nose, Effy one of the few men in the MPW locker room who can almost look Josh Bishop dead in the eye standing flat footed. Effy actually takes the initiative here, throwing the first punch and connecting, as we’re underway here, as Joshua Bishop and Effy start trading right hands back and forth!

Effy starts to get the better of Joshua Bishop, throwing taped fist after taped fist right to Bishop’s jaw, backing him up against the ropes, and continuing to hammer away, before Effy shoots Josh off the ropes, and on the rebound, drops the Intense Icon with a clothesline! The MPW World Champion taken off his feet early here! Bishop gets back to his feet, only to turn around and get dropped by another clothesline from Effy! Josh gets back to his feet and takes a wild swing at Effy, only for Effy to duck it, slip behind Josh Bishop, and plant him with a big back suplex! Bishop dropped right on his dome, but Bishop is quick back to his feet! Effy turns around, surprised to see the champion already standing, only to get blasted by a chop to the chest, and shot off the ropes by Bishop. On the rebound, Josh Bishop catches Effy and spins him around before planting Effy with a HUGE Black Hole Slam! Effy driven into the mat, and Bishop hooks the leg, trying to make quick work of the challenger!

1….2.. Kickout!

Effy out at two! Effy back to his feet quickly, and surprises Bishop with another straight right hand! Effy came out here amped up today, and the adrenaline is still flowing apparently! Effy lands a couple more rights to the head of Bishop, backing Bishop into the corner, before turning and hitting the opposite turnbuckle, charging back and crashing into Josh Bishop with a big splash, before turning and charging back across the ring again, this time catching Bishop with a Yakuza Kick, before climbing up and wrapping his leg around Josh Bishop’s head. Effy pulls him down into a modified leg DDT, Under the Rainbow as he calls it, planting Josh Bishop into the mat head first, before Effy heads up to the top rope! Effy waits for Bishop to get back up, and when he does, Effy leaps, grabs Bishop’s head, and drives him into the mat with a Blockbuster! The champ is down, Effy hooks the leg, looking to win the title!

1….2… Kickout!

Bishop out at two! Effy pulls himself up to a knee, and watches as Bishop rolls into the opposite corner. Effy goes over, and lands another straight right, before climbing up onto the turnbuckle, and starting to rain down fists on Josh Bishop, trying to stay on top of the champion offensively after this hot start to the match. Effy lays down punches as the crowd counts along, before Effy punctuates it with a pelvic thrust to the face! Bishop stumbles out of the corner, and Effy lists Bishop off his feet, before planting Bishop with a TKO! We’ve maybe never seen one of Joshua Bishop’s MPW world title defenses start off so poorly in his favor, maybe Bishop wasn’t taking Effy as seriously as he should have! 

Effy rolls to the apron, and out of the ring, grabbing a box of light tubes and sliding that back into the ring with him, as Effy pours the tubes out onto the mat. Effy picks his favorite, before turning and watching as Bishop gets up, before Effy smashes the tube over the head of Josh Bishop! Bishop stumbles into the ropes, and Effy, left now with a piece of jagged light tube in his hand, goes over and starts digging into the forehead of Bishop, cutting open and bloodletting the MPW World Champion! Effy throws the tube aside, and grabs a fresh one, before driving it down across the back of Josh Bishop, breaking it, before once again using a broken tube to carve into the head of Josh Bishop! 

Effy throws that tube away and grabs Josh Bishop again, placing his face against the chain link here and using it like a cheese grater to dig into the flesh of the Intense Icon. Effy then turns and spins Bishop around, before tossing Bishop face first into the chain link again, stunning Bishop, before once again raking Bishop’s face against it. Effy lets Bishop drop, before Effy grabs a chair, and watches as Bishop tries to get back up, before driving the chair across the back of Josh Bishop! Bishop drops down to his knees, grimacing in pain, and whispering hushed curses and threats of violence at Effy through gritted teeth. Bishop pulls himself back up to his feet, only for Effy to throw the chair right at his head, connecting and knocking Josh into the corner! Josh might be out on his feet here as he tries to shake the cobwebs off, only for Effy to come back over, holding another light tube. Effy presses and holds the tube against Josh’s head, before Effy comes in with a headbutt, breaking the tube and shattering glass between both his head and Bishop’s! A kamikaze move, but one that appears to work in his favor as it looks like Josh Bishop got the worst of it. Ther might be glass in Bishop’s eye! 

Effy once again tries to climb up the ropes and rain fists down on Josh Bishop, but Josh Bishop has seemingly had enough, as he reaches up and grabs Effy by the throat! With Effy goozled, Bishop throws him backward into the mat, with what is essentially a chokeslam off the second rope! Effy hits hard, so hard that he rolls backward and actually back up to his feet, in perfect position as Bishop charges in and takes Effy’s head off with Pump kick! Effy’s out cold, Bishop drops down into the cover! 

1….2… Kickout!

That didn’t put Effy away, but it’s a testament to just how quickly the MPW World Champion can flip a matchup into his favor. Bishop takes a second to regain himself, before getting up and grabbing a chair, watching as Effy struggles back to his feet. Bishop raises the chair up and smacks it over Effy’s back, dropping Effy back down to the mat, before Josh Bishop throws the chair aside, making a point to gesture to the crowd, eyes wide, tongue out, thumb dragging across his neck. 

“You’re in my world, Effy. Exit 187 is a loooooong and lonesome road!” 

The sometimes nonsensical threats of the MPW World Champion nonetheless getting the point across, as Josh Bishop now grabs one of the light tubes in the ring. Bishop makes a show of swinging it like a batter lining up his shot, before Bishop smashes the light tube over Effy’s head, dropping Effy right back down to his knees! Bishop makes a point of flexing and shouting, stalking a downed Effy like a lion stalks a gazelle. Bishop grabs Effy by the hair, and digs the point of the broken tube into Effy’s forehead, before smashing the rest of the tube into Effy’s head. Bishop goes and grabs another tube, smashing that over Effy’s head as well, discarding the broken remnants of it after he does. This match has flipped almost completely from just a couple moments ago, where it looked like Effy may have actually been close to putting away the MPW World Champion.  

Effy is gushing blood as Bishop hammers away at him with right hands, targeting the laceration on Effy’s head directly. Effy doesn’t let it stand for long, as Effy starts hammering away at Bishop in return, and we’re right back to where we started. These two men trading fists. 

Effy starts to get a little bit of an advantage, even catching Bishop with a boot, but Effy is already woozy from blood loss here. A temporary hesitation gives Bishop control again after a european uppercut, followed by a headbutt from Bishop once Effy stumbles back into the corner. A couple more headbutts leave Effy worse for wear, as Bishop takes the opportunity to walk across the ring, trying to charge back at Effy with a big splash in the corner, but Effy dodges out of the way! Bishop hits turnbuckle and turns around, right in time for Effy to charge in and blast Bishop with a Yakuza Kick! Bishop’s head snaps back, as Effy charges across the ring, lines it up again, and blasts Bishop with ANOTHER Yakuza Kick! And then Effy lines it up again, and blasts Josh Bishop with a THIRD Yakuza Kick! Joshua Bishop on dream street right now, and Effy looks to push the advantage, lifting up Josh Bishop and sitting up on the top rope, before climbing up there with him, hammering away at Josh with a couple right hands, before Effy starts to readjust both Josh and Himself on the top rope. Bishop starts to fight back, and manages to slip off onto the apron, before grabbing a light tube and smashing it over Effy’s head! Effy dazed on the top rope now, and Bishop climbs up to the top, looking for a superplex, but not into the ring! Bishop instead lifts Effy up, and both men fall back, crashing THROUGH the suspended chain link wall hanging from the ring! Metal twists, bends, and breaks, and the two men also collide with the panes of glass that had been set up underneath it, both men take one of the gnarliest falls in MPW history! Flesh meets steel, the steel bends and breaks, and both men are now down and out on the outside!

Chants of “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” ring throughout the Brooklyn Bowl, and holy shit indeed! Effy and Josh Bishop are both laying in the floor, bleeding profusely, neither man currently moving! 

It appears the panes of glass were actually laying on the cage itself, as Bishop is currently clutching one of them himself. Bishop manages to fight back to his feet, and pick Effy back up, before laying down the remnants of the pane of glass, picking Effy back up, and sending him back into the pane of glass with a Russian Leg Sweep! Effy’s arm actually gets sandwiched between the twisted steel, which might actually be worse than the glass! Bishop throws Effy back into the ring and goes into the cover! 

1….2… KICKOUT!

Effy survives! Bishop sits up, and in a mix of frustration and perhaps a bit of desperation, grabs a chair again. Bishop waits for Effy to start to stir, before cracking the chair over Effy’s back, sending Effy rolling to the outside. 

Bishop follows Effy out there, measuring Effy before clotheslining him over the steel guardrail, sending Effy into the laps of our fans here in the front row. Fans quickly disperse as Bishop throws the chair, and then goes over and starts digging around underneath the ring, grabbing doors and tossing them on the outside as well. Bishop then follows Effy over the guardrail as we get a familiar reminder from Steve Guy: 

“If the action looks like it’s headed your way, it is! Grab your shit and move!” 

Bishop marches over with the steel chair in hand, and goes to swing at Effy, but Effy boots the chair back in Bishop’s face! Josh drops the chair in the process of getting stunned, and Effy picks it up, first hitting Bishop in the gut with the chair to sit him down into one of the fans chairs here at ringside, before Effy starts whaling on Josh with the chair, smacking Josh in the head over and over again with the steel! Bishop might be out cold, slumped over in the chair as Effy throws his chair aside, and goes to the doors. Effy grabs one and lays it out between two chairs, before dragging Bishop up to his feet, and hooking Bishop’s head, before lifting the MPW World Champion up, and driving him through the door with a Fire Thunder Driver! The impact of the two men break the door and leave both men laying on the concrete floor, but Bishop is clearly the worse for wear of the two of them!

Either way, both men are down now, and Clemons joins them, checking on both men, trying to get a response from either of them. Both simply just lay on the concrete floor, gushing blood from their various wounds, as Clemons starts to register a count. If neither man can show some sort of sign of life before 10, Clemons is gonna call this one a draw. 

1! 

2! 

3!

Neither man moving… 

4!

5! 

Effy’s eyes open, as it looks like he might have some awareness left of wear he is, but not much more other than that. 

6!

7! 

Effy manages to roll over onto his front, and with Effy getting a foot on solid ground, Clemons decides that’s good enough. No one wanted to see this thing end that way anyways. Effy grabs a handful of Bishop’s blood soaked bleach blonde locks, and starts trying to drag Bishop up with him. Effy manages to catch Bishop with a right hand, which seems to awaken something in Bishop, because Josh actually sits up and catches Effy with a headbutt. Effy gets up, stumbling away, trying to shake that headbutt off, but Bishop is back on his feet now and right behind him. Bishop catches Effy with a chop to the chest, dropping Effy back into the seat of one of the chairs. Bishop then catches Effy with a couple more chops to the chest, before Bishop takes a step back, and knocks Effy back out of the chair with a boot to the face!  

Effy rolls on the floor, trying to muster up the strength to get back in the fight, as Bishop grabs one of the cans of Truly Seltzer left on the ground by a fan. Bishop takes the beverage and takes a long drink, before pouring some of it over his head, grabbing Effy, and then preceding to smash the can over Effy’s head, sending seltzer flying everywhere!, Bishop kicks the can aside and bumps fists with a couple of fans, a couple of fans having to shake out their hands and grab at their wrists afterwards. Josh Bishop isn’t a man known for restraint, and sometimes gets carried away with the fist bumps. 

Bishop goes back over to grab Effy, picking him up by the hair, and catching him with another chop, sending Effy stumbling back into the bar. Effy is able to respond with one of his own, though, firing back with another big chop to the chest in response. It’s enough to stagger Bishop, and then Effy proceeds to grab Josh and bounce his head off the bar, sending Bishop stumbling away. Effy then grabs one of the barstools, lifts it up, and smashes it over Josh Bishop’s head! Paul Heyman isn’t gonna be happy about Effy & Bishop using the venue chairs and stools, but he’d probably take the building still being standing at the end of this one, if we’re being honest. Effy then climbs up onto the bar, gets his footing, and charges Josh Bishop before leaping off, taking Bishop down with a flying cross body! Effy and Bishop crash to the floor, Effy clutching at his ribs as he lands, but still, the move proved effective. Effy gets back to his feet, and manages to grab Josh Bishop once again, picking him up and dragging him, before unceremoniously dumping Bishop over the guardrail, back to the ringside area. Effy hops over the barricade himself, before grabbing Bishop again, and throwing him into the ring. Bishop is on his hands and knees as Effy slides in after him, grabbing a chair, and as Bishop pulls himself up to his knees, Effy cracks the chair over Bishop’s head, dropping Bishop to the mat, as Effy hooks the leg, looking to win the title!

1….2… Kickout!

Bishop out at two again! Effy gets up, and stumbles into the ropes, blood leaking down his forehead and down the back of his arms and back. Effy waves to the ringside crew and requests a door, getting it, and quickly getting to work, bridging the door across two chairs. Effy then takes it a step further, and requests something specific, something that ends up being….

Lighter fluid. 

Oh boy. 

Effy starts squirting lighter fluid over the door, but is interrupted by a clubbing blow to the back of the neck by Josh Bishop’s forearm. Effy drops, and Bishop grabs a bundle of light tubes, smashing them over Effy’s head now, dropping Effy down to the mat. Now it’s Bishop who grabs the bottle of lighter fluid, and Bishop pours a ton more of the fuel onto the door, maybe actually emptying the bottle before tossing it aside, retrieving a lighter from Maserati Wes Barkley, before Bishop lights the door a blaze! A towering inferno in the ring now, as Bishop picks Effy up, grabs him by the throat, and CHOKESLAMS Effy into the flaming door! Holy shit! Effy’s shirt and pants catch on fire as he rolls around the ring trying to put it out, as Josh Bishop drops down into the cover, trying to end this thing!

1….2… KICKOUT!

Effy kicks out after being put through a flaming door! Holy shit! How the hell is Effy still going?! 

Even Bishop looks to be in disbelief, as he lays on his side, absolutely astonished. Not even a flaming door enough to put Effy down tonight! 

Josh Bishop, running on fumes at this point, drags Effy back up to his knees as the two men start exchanging right hands from a kneeling position. Back and forth the two men trade blows, neither man wanting to give an inch here, as they both continue to slug away at one another, but once again, Josh Bishop shuts Effy down with a headbutt. Effy dazed here as Bishop gets back to his feet, grabbing a light tube, and as Effy gets back up, Bishop blasts the tube over Effy’s head. It doesn’t seem to register much with Effy though, who just kinda shakes it off. Bishop goes and grabs another one, smashing it over Effy’s head, but once again, it does nothing. Bishop, starting to get frustrated now, turns and grabs a whole bundle of tubes, and turns to hit Effy with them… But Effy suddenly charges Bishop, catching Bishop with a spear and shattering the tubes against Bishop in the process! Holy shit! 

The glass shatters against Bishop, and he stumbles back to his feet, clutching his midsection, leaving him vulernable as Effy lifts a chair up, before driving it over Bishop’s head! The chair connects so hard that it actually stays wrapped around Bishop’s head, as Bishop stumbles back into the corner. Effy climbs up the turnbuckles in the corner, and wraps his leg around Bishop’s head, chair and all, before Effy drives Bishop’s head and the chair down with Under The Rainbow! Bishop’s head spiked into the mat! Effy into the cover!

1….2… KICKOUT!

Bishop somehow survives! Holy shit! That could’ve been enough to paralyze someone, but it didn’t even keep Bishop down for a three count! Effy sits up, somewhat in disbelief that he didn’t get the win right there. Effy grabs Bishop again, and tries to lift him back to his feet, but Bishop starts landing some shots to Effy’s kidneys, getting Effy back off of him, before Bishop catches Effy with a punch right to the gut, causing Effy to hunch over. Bishop gets back to his feet and grabs one half of the charred door in the ring, raises it up, and smacks Effy over the head with the broken half of the door! Effy stumbles, and Bishop drops the door, before picking Effy up, turning him upside down, and driving Effy into the mat, head first, with a Tombstone Piledriver! Goodnight, Effy! That’s gonna be it! Cover!

1….2… KICKOUT!

EFFY WILL NOT DIE! HOLY SHIT! How is Effy still going?! Even Joshua Bishop can’t believe it! Bishop gets back to his feet, and just starts grabbing pieces of plunder from the ring. Broken doors, chairs, light tubes, all of it, and starts piling it all on top of Effy! Bishop looking to finish off Effy for good here, as Bishop starts climbing up onto the top rope, looking to crush Effy under all of that… but before he can jump, Effy shoves all of that off of him, grabs a chair, and nails Bishop in the head with it! Bishop stumbles and grabs at the cage wall to try and steady himself, but Effy hits the ropes, charges, leaps, and SPEARS BISHOP AND HIMSELF THROUGH THE CAGE WALL! BISHOP AND EFFY SPILL TO THE OUTSIDE, AND LAND ON THE SPIDER NET OF BARBED WIRE! HOLY FUCK! 

Both men down, laying on the barbed wire weave now, but Effy, actively trying to pull the barbed wire out of his flesh, starts trying to fight back to his feet. Such momentum on the spear that the two men broke through the cage wall, and somehow Effy is extracting himself from it. Effy back up, picking Bishop back up, and then PILEDRIVING BISHOP DOWN ONTO THE BARBED WIRE! HOLY FUCK! 

Effy sacrificed himself to deliver such a devastating maneuver, the spider wire sticking into Effy’s lower body, but sticking into Bishop’s head right now! Effy’s entrie being is sliced up, in addition to having been set on fire, and Bishop isn’t much better at the moment. Effy manages to drag himself back into the ring, Bishop not far behind but definitely moving slower. 

Effy gets back into the ring, and up to his feet, leaning on the ropes and measuring as Bishop drags himself back into the ring. Effy is perched, ready to go for the kill. Ready to try and end this thing, ready to try and capture the MPW World Championship. “CMON!” Effy screams. “GET UP! GET UP! CMON!” Effy is practically salivating, he sees his moment, he’s going for the kill… 

Bishop up, and Effy charges, looking for the Sack Ryder… 

But Bishop catches him! Bishop catches Effy up on his shoulders, before delivering a devastating Powerbomb, driving Effy into the mat! Bishop quickly up to his feet, flips Effy over, and drags him back up, before lifting Effy high into the air, and throwing him down onto the pile of plunder that Effy had cleared himself from with a MASSIVE Bishop Bomb! Bishop Bomb down onto the doors, chairs, and light tubes! Bishop drops down, hooking the leg! 

1…..2….3!

“Here is your winner, and STILL MPW World Champion, The Intense Icon, Joshua Bishop!” 

Bishop retains! Effy gave the fight of his life, the fight of his MPW career, but it wasn’t enough tonight! The Intense Icon is still your MPW World Champion!

[ainews]

Boysenberries are a popular, tart berry from the Rubus genus of plants, and while they may be delicious in pies and jams, they pose a major risk to fencing.

The vines of the boysenberry plant are covered in tines that can easily catch and wrap around the links of a fence, such as a chain-link fence. As the vines latch onto and spread out along a fence, they can cause damage as they pull it away from its posts.

The vines will also keep growing as they latch onto the fence, quickly becoming out of control and covering any point of entry, making it difficult to access. As a result, limits on the size, type, and height of fencing is often necessary to stop the impact of the boysenberry vines.

In addition, the boysenberry’s thorny stems can poke through the fencing, which could also cause damage and potential injury to anyone catching them on their clothes or skin. Posting additional warning signs and ensuring that the fencing is covered with thick netting is necessary for both safety and protection.

As boysenberries can be a great addition to sweet pies or tarts, try to plant them in a safe place away from a fence. This will reduce the risk of damage to the fence, while still allowing you to enjoy the tasty berry.