#Engineered Wood Siding Manufacturers

[dbeautify2017]

Ceiling Lamp Shade with bulb

Transform your home into a haven of elegance and style with our exquisite engineered wood ceiling lamp shade. This lotus-inspired pendant light fixture offers a classy and antique look, perfect for those who appreciate aesthetic home decor. Crafted from high-quality engineered wood, this hard-wired fixture exudes durability and timeless charm.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

The Rain Storm

God, please, somebody open.

Your car stalled out about a mile back. You swear it's raining hard enough to have flooded the engine. You tried waiting by your car, to hitchhike or borrow a toolbox or find someone with cell service, but hours passed with nothing but the rain keeping you company.

This was the only house you passed for miles on this backwater forest-dense road, paved with loose gravel and prayers. You don't know how you even got here. Slowly, the highway, your highway, began to shift into something less and less familiar. You must've missed your turn.

Finally, someone opens the door. The young woman is surprised to see you, and quickly ushers you inside. She takes your coat and asks you kindly to sit on the couch, saying she'll inform a "Miss" that you've arrived. You don't care for her word choice.

The manor is extravagant. The walls are aged, but thick and sturdy enough to last many lifetimes more. The rug has a pattern too ornate to make out in the darkness, and every piece of furniture seems like a precious heirloom.

"So, you'll be our little visitor, then?"

A woman... no, something more. She's otherworldly. Her face looks sculpted from marble by the most talented visionaries, but her skin looked as soft as silk. Her hair flowing down her shoulders like a river from a mountain, perfectly framing her lovely silhouette. And her voice, lord above her voice, it was an orchestra, a distillation of beauty, every husky syllable like a kiss from a rose.

You somehow answer her.

"Well, aren't you a dear. Rosemary, refreshments."

There were two other women by her side, one now scurrying off into another room. The other brings over a large comforter, which it unfolds and places around you in a single swift act of elegance.

The lady sits in a loveseat across the coffee table. She asks you how you managed to find this neck of the woods. Where you where going before you did. How well the job is going, if your coworkers treat you well. Friends, hobbies, sex life. It doesn't occur to you that you can refuse her. She seems so radiant, her inquisitions so genuine and thoughtful, that the prospect of denying her seems too disrespectful.

The girl from earlier returns, and your eyes are caught by everything on her tray. It's your absolute favourite, the epitome of comfort food. If you were on death row, this would be your final meal. What a coincidence.

You thank the maid and immediately dig in. The lady seems fit to observe you in silence as you enjoy your meal. With the last of it gone, the maid returns and collects the tray.

Maybe it was the light. Surely, it must have been. At first you figure it was an eccentricity of her uniform, before you notice how abruptly the sleeves end, much earlier. Perhaps it's some sort of disability, but you can't imagine how she'd work in such a profession if that were the case.

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

You muster the courage to ask about her maid, only after she's returned to the kitchen, hopefully out of earshot.

"I can't say I know what you're talking about, dear. You've had a long night, surely you must be seeing things. Perhaps it's time for you to get some rest. I'll have you shown to your arrangements."

Another maid emerges. She's the same as the other one. She may not be identical, with differences in the hair and minor ones in the face, but they still look like variations of the same toy.

She leads you to your room. You have plenty of time to analyze her now. There's something artificial about her. Something off about the texture of her skin, the way it doesn't seem to catch the light quite how it should. Her movements are unnatural, like something prerecorded and edited. It's too even, too smooth, and much too stiff.

And then there's... the joints. She doesn't have elbows. She doesn't have them, not nearly the same way you do. Her bicep and forearm simply stop at a point of connection. It seems manufactured, unnaturally round, with lines where she's allowed movement.

You hesitate once you reach your door. You tell the maid you want to ask her something. She bows respectfully, saying you are allowed one question before she returns to her duties. You ask her what's wrong with her body, worded inelegantly from a night of exhaustion and confusion.

The maid bows respectfully. "There's nothing wrong with this one's body."

. . . . .

You're woken by knocking.

You allow the maids to enter your room. The serene morning sunlight gently pours into the room as they greet you, offering to help you prepare yourself for breakfast. You refuse and politely ask them to provide you some privacy, to which they happily comply.

Your body feels stiff as you pull yourself out of bed. There's a soft crack whenever you struggle to bend and stretch.

Your clothes have been washed, dried, and folded for you through the night. They feel even softer than they did when you first bought them.

You finish as much of your routine as you comfortably can in a stranger's house before leaving the dormitory, making your way to where you remember the kitchen to be. It's eerily quiet, with only your footsteps to hear.

The dining table is long, with the lady sitting at the furthest end, illuminated by the morning sunlight. She is surrounded by empty chairs, and a collection of maids standing at the ready against the walls of the room.

"How nice of you to stay for breakfast, darling. You wouldn't want to miss it for the world."

A row of maids emerge from the connected kitchen, all carrying a hot plate of food. They place each one in front of you; pancakes with syrup, waffles with fresh fruit, scrambled eggs with a side of bacon cooked to perfection, golden hash browns, french toast with butter still melting, and a smoothie and a coffee to drink

All the plates are placed in front of you. The lady only has a mug of fresh tea.

You choose a food at random to pick at, not feeling very hungry. You want to strike up a conversation with the lady, eager to ease your mind, but it only now occurs to you that you never exchanged names. You apologize for this and ask for hers.

"Oh, don't worry about a detail like that." She gave a carefree smile as she shook her head. "If you simply must use something for me... I suppose Miss will work for you."

Miss. That fits in place in your brain more naturally than it should.

You've barely touched all the extravagant food before you start to feel satiated. "It's okay if you're not feeling hungry." Says Miss. "Don't worry about the waste. I promise it'll be eaten."

You thank her, believing her, as the maids begin to collect the plates. As one steps behind you, reaching around to grab the pancakes, you try to get her attention and ask if-

"The maids don't like to be bothered when they're working, dear." Miss chimes, almost playfully. "But please, ask me whatever you like."

You ask her if she comes from money, commenting on how many maids she has. She looks to the side, thinking for only a moment. "My... darlings aren't concerned about something as silly as money. Service is their purpose."

You ask her to elaborate. Lightning strikes, audible even over the sound of the rain storm crashing against the windows.

"Oh, what a mess. Seems like you'll have to stay another night. Don't worry, we don't mind the extra company."

You excuse yourself to the bathroom.

It's untouched. It's kept in spotless condition just as the rest of the house is, but the toilet paper that hangs from the roll is fresh out of the package, and the plastic for the hand soap on the sink is the only thing in the trash can.

You flush the toilet and leave, hovering off to the side across the hall. Within seconds, a maid wanders in to clean. You politely stop her, desperation clear in your voice as you ask if she's human.

The maid bows respectfully. "Not anymore."

You make a break for it.

You open the front door, only for a sudden burst of wind to blow you backwards, slamming the door shut in front of you. If you were of sound mind, you may have noticed the decorations were all still in their place, as if such a harsh wind didn't blow at all.

You stumble backwards, your mind racing, before you bump into her. She's tall enough to rest her elbows on your shoulders.

"I know you must be so worried about your life, dear. You must have people waiting for you, a place in society that you have to act out... but you don't have to worry much longer. I'll take care of everything for you. Would you care to follow me?"

Of course you follow her. You're terrified of what could happen if you don't. Your body moves on its own. It must be the fear, surely.

Miss guides you to a room you don't recognize. It's an uncanny cross between a dentist's office and a mechanic's workshop, each schema just barely wrong enough.

She gestures to the structure in the middle. It's an operating table. "Go on cutie, you know what to do."

With as much apprehension as you can afford to muster, you do as Miss says. You climb onto the table, laying down with your hands resting on your torso. You try to ask what she's going to do to you, but she interrupts you with a hand cupping your cheek.

"I'm going to make you mine."

. . . . .

This one holds the warmed leftovers out on the tip of its hand. Miss's treasured carnivorous plant feels it with the tip of its mouth, expertly taking small chomps until it reaches this one's fingers, stopping just as the meat does.

This doll feels an emptiness dissipate through its body, a reward for a job well done. It feels just a little less like a person, its old life being lifted off its shoulders and taken further and further away.

It begins to walk towards its next task. Its movements are exactly what they need to be, elegant and intentional. A pretty doll for Miss.

Just as it returns to the manor, the rain begins. It starts slow, convincing, picking up ever so slowly into a storm.

After a long, pleasant moment of stillness, this one hears knocking. It waits, convincing, just as it was told. The doll is surprised to see its guest, and quickly ushers them inside. It takes their coat and asks them kindly to sit on the couch, saying it'll inform a "Miss" that they've arrived.

The guest doesn't care for her word choice.

[scoonsalicious]

6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was on his way! 

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something. 

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers. 

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile  of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable. 

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest. 

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car. 

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared. 

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed. 

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing. 

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky. 

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[orivaa-kun]

ride for me | chapter 3: go

ch. 1 | ch. 2

chapter word count: 16.3k warnings: mature (18+), drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Fem OC series summary: Lena Okamoto was emotionally estranged from her father—the CEO of Okamoto Group, a Tokyo-based, multi billion-dollar sports car manufacturing company—after her mother died due to a longterm, post-pregnancy related illness when she was a kid. Amidst her father’s misdirected blame for this, now 27, Lena is finally back in the city. She’s introverted and troubled by her past with her father and step-family, but hardworking and anxious to prove herself to everyone: that she can create the best cars for the Okamoto brand and the fastest engines for their Formula 1 cars. Satoru Gojo is the face of Gojo Industries—the corporation that practically owns Tokyo with its advanced tech that can be found all over the city. Unlike Lena in many ways, the confident and extroverted man leads a completely different, unblemished life—having basically had a spoiled upbringing, and the only trying aspect of his life being the sheer amount of his company responsibilities, obligations, and public appearances. When the two meet, both of their lives change completely. Will they be able to juggle their relationship, trying professional careers, family dynamics, and public image all at once? Sacrifices will have to be made.

It had to be around noon when I woke up from the nap I’d immediately taken after returning to my other home—I could tell from the way the light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling length picture windows alongside the back wall of it. I still occasionally had to reorient myself whenever I woke up in this room, especially as I’d just finished remodeling this side of the house weeks ago, but today I immediately knew exactly where I was upon waking—my mom’s old home in Yamanashi. The sun had pleasantly warmed up my cream-colored duvet and sheets, and much unlike most days, the piercing chime of my phone alarm hadn’t abruptly shaken me awake. It was nice. Maybe Yuko was right about taking more time off... 

I reached under one of my pillows and fished for my phone on the edge of my bed, flipping it over to reveal the actual time—11:48am. Close enough. I sorted through my email for a bit, checking on my shipping notifications for the house and discovering that the wood fire pizza oven was going to be delivered early this afternoon. It was a good thing I’d planned to spend the day here. 

 After responding to messages and aimlessly scrolling though my phone, I finally slipped out of bed, adjusting the white, teddy sleepwear tube top and long pants that had moved around a bit during my sleep. I was about to make my way to the kitchen, but the sound of the doorbell jolted me instead. I reached for my matching robe nearby, quickly fastening the sash around my waist before approaching the front door. The guys delivering the pizza oven were here already?

I opened the door to a tall man with red-dyed hair and wearing an all-black uniform with a tablet in his hand. His hair was tucked into a black cap, and I glanced behind him to see another man in the same uniform beginning to get out of a large truck, “Good morning.” I offered the red-haired man a polite smile.

“Hi. Are you Ms. Lena Okamoto?” He lifted his tablet, seemingly pulling up some sort of page on it.

“Yes. You two are here to deliver the pizza oven, right?”

“Pizza oven…? The man lifted a brow in confusion, “Um, no. We’re here to deliver the painting. Can you sign here, please?” He extended the tablet and attached pen to me.

My brows furrowed together, “Painting? I didn’t buy a painting…”

“It’s a gift from, uh,” The man checked the tablet again, seemingly surprised by the name he saw, “Satoru Gojo?? Shit, you know Satoru Gojo?!” He seemed surprised by the information, like he hadn’t checked the delivery information until now.

“Oh…” I blinked a few times and rubbed my temple, still waking up, “Right.” He did say there’d be a gift waiting for me when I woke up, “Yes, thank you.” A painting?

“Whoa, that’s awesome. Well, where would you like us to put it? It’s pretty heavy.” The red-haired man turned back to glance to the other man in uniform, who unlatched the back hatch of the truck to reveal a long, rectangular box wrapped with white, heavy-duty paper. It looked pretty big, almost as big as… No way. There was no way it could be that painting.

“Oh shit…” I muttered under my breath, in disbelief.

“What was that?” The man asked.

“Oh! Nothing, sorry, um…” I pushed the front door open wider, “Is there any way you two can bring it into my office in here?”

Less than 30 minutes later, I was staring blankly at the wall of my study, jaw practically on the floor as the two art installers mounted the exact Nakamura painting the from me and Satoru’s date yesterday at the art gallery—the modern piece that depicted a calm or storming ocean, depending on how one looked at it. I didn’t even want to think about what a painting like this would be worth… Yes, I did. I’d have to remember to call Yuko about it later. She was an art enthusiast, herself, and would definitely be able to estimate its price point. Was this supposed to be normal for rich boys like Satoru? Did he go around handing out expensive gifts to girls after every first date we went on?!

I slipped my phone out of my robe pocket, immediately beginning to text Satoru.

Though it was a shocking first date gift, the painting was something I wanted… I just thought it was something that would take me a few years to save up for—not one day of dating Satoru Gojo. But who knows if the painting would’ve still been on the market by then… Maybe I should just take the gift? It’s not like Satoru would miss the money, anyways. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. This piece alone was probably worth more than all nine of my sports cars combined!

I took a deep exhale and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calm myself about the situation. I needed to tell Shoko and Yuko about this, like immediately.

~ 

The next morning, I didn’t wake up from my alarm but instead much earlier, before dawn at 4am, to the sound of my phone buzzing repeatedly. I grumbled and pouted, irritated from whoever or whatever was determined to wake me up so damn early. When I flipped my phone over, I discovered the hundreds of notifications—mostly from Instagram. My eyes went from narrowed to wide as I scrolled through, and I immediately sat up, turning on my bedside lamp before reading just a few of the thousand-plus comments that had been posted on a number of my recent posts. 

“don’t take pics with my man!!! 😤🤬” 

“There’s no way satoru gojo’s with a girl who’s barely even Japanese lol” 

“r u dating gojo????” 

“She looks like a uniqlo diversity model 🤣🤣🤣” 

“OMG I found her page!!” 

“back off he’s mineeee” 

“slut” 

The last comment sank heavily in my chest. Was this because I was dating Satoru?? I rapidly scrolled to the top of my page, rubbing my eyes in disbelief at the number of followers I saw. Just a few days ago it had to be around 409K... now it was... 893K?! Overnight?!! How did people find out about us in the first place? 

I exited the app, navigating my search engine. I began to type in my name, and immediately the first autocomplete read, “...and Satoru Gojo picture at docks.” I paused and sighed, roughly running a hand through my curls before reluctantly tapping the ‘search’ icon. And there it was, all over the image search results—Satoru and I pictured mid-kiss in front of the Tokyo Bay Yacht Club entrance. I fucking knew I’d heard the sound of a camera that morning. To top it off, my hair even looked kind of messy from the wind down by the docks. Satoru looked perfect, of course, and was in a full tailored suit compared to my slightly wrinkled, high waisted jeans and long coat that I’d worn the day before. 

After scrolling through a few of the image result photos, I realized that there was not one, but three photos circulating of us—one with Gojo kissing my fingers, one with him kissing my forehead, and one of us kissing each other. It was such an intimate moment... The comments were one thing, but the fact that some random paparazzi had intruded on this sweet moment between Satoru and I, it was off-putting, to say the least. I still remembered the feeling of the brisk wind on my cheeks, the way the cold morning air burned my nose red, and how Satoru’s lips had warmed me up. It was a private moment—one I wished had stayed as such. 

I navigated back to Instagram, tapping a completely different photo on my profile that had nothing to do with this paparazzi fiasco at all. It was one of the stills from my GQ shoot and article from a few months ago—a simple picture of me sitting on the track at sunset beside an older Okamoto model, dressed in a tight-fitting, full black and red leather (and more fashionable than functional) racing suit. What had once been ten or so comments from car fans and my friends was now over a hundred spam-like comments from people who were clearly obsessive fans of Satoru. 

“Is she like a tomboy or something?” 

“ur not even gojo’s type” 

“idk she’s kinda cute!” 

“Oof looks like Gojo is in his hafu phase 🥴 don’t worry GojoGirlies it’ll be over soon 🤣” 

“all of you are just hating b/c she’s tan smh” 

“Why is she even dressed like that if she really makes cars? Seems fake” 

“it’s from a GQ shoot, not a car factory u idiot.” 

“smash” 

I navigated to the search bar, half-typing in the name of a popular Tokyo gossip and entertainment news account—@thesorceryroom. Of course, when I tapped the profile, I saw that there were already four different posts on me and Satoru. What the hell did they even have to go on about us? All we did was kiss!  

Without a second thought, I immediately pulled up Satoru’s contact and hit the call icon, bringing my phone to my ear and biting my lip stressfully as I impatiently waited for him to pick up. It wasn’t until I heard his voice upon answering that it fully dawned on me how early in the morning it was, “Hey, Lena. You’re up early.” Satou noted, voice far from groggy or sleep-ridden... Was he already awake? 

“Oh! Uh, hey... Sorry, Satoru, did I wake you?” I suddenly felt way more nervous. 

“Nah, I’ve been up for a bit working. How about you, though? Everything okay?” He questioned, clearly curious to why I’d called him at 4am. 

“Um...” I trailed off, voice a bit uneasy, “Sorry for calling this early, it’s just my phone’s been blowing up so I woke up, and then I just had to call you when I saw what’s happening online...” I rambled, beginning to slide out of bed and pace around my bedroom. 

“What’s happening online?” Satoru asked, sounding completely clueless. 

“Uh, the pictures? There’s pictures floating around the internet of us kissing in front of the yacht club yesterday morning...” I explained. He didn’t know?  

“Oh, there are? Huh.” Satoru didn’t sound phased by this information at all. 

“And it’s blowing up online! There’s like, thousands of people stalking my page and dropping random comments on my old posts about it. Just random shit about us, and there’s some wacky shit directed to me, specifically!” I rubbed the back of my neck anxiously as I paced. 

“Damn, I didn’t expect this would happen this soon...” 

“You expected it??” I couldn’t help but raise my voice a little bit. Would’ve been nice to get a little heads up... 

“Well, yes and no. To be honest, I don’t usually date so publicly. The last time I did, many years ago, stuff like this happened all the time.” 

“Couldn’t you at least have warned me or something beforehand...?” I’m sure my tone sounded a little frustrated. I was trying to keep my composure about the situation and hear Satoru out, but it didn’t really seem like he empathized with what I was going through at all... 

“Sorry, Lena, it was the furthest thing from my mind.” Satoru’s tone sounded sincere, but I still felt thrown off from this whole situation, “But, don’t think about that, babe. Just ignore them.” 

I turned my face a bit at his response—as if it was that simple to let go of the countless things people were saying about you, “Satoru, it’s not that easy... I mean, have you seen all the shit people are saying about me? There’s gotta be damn near a thousand comments!” 

“Oh, I haven’t been on social media since high school. My publicist handles my accounts. I learned pretty early that shit really starts to mess with your head if you’re on it for too long.” Satoru sounded a bit aloof, even over the phone, like he was talking to an interviewer and not the girl he was dating. 

I was confused, “Okay, but I don’t have a publicist, or an assistant. I handle my own accounts.” I was starting to get irritated now, “I didn’t have the luxury of having one—especially when I was fresh out of high school and my dad no longer legally had to support me. I had to scrape to market myself, find jobs on my own and work my way up in the car manufacturing industry... It wasn’t until recently that I was able to afford to streamline some of the work I do, and social media’s never been an issue for me, well, not until now.” 

There was a short pause, and then I heard Satoru take a breath before speaking, “Wait—I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind’s kinda split this morning with this project I’ve been... Never mind that. I apologize. I should’ve mentioned that something like this might happen, and taken the steps to get ahead of it.” He exhaled, “How’s this; why don’t we meet for lunch today to talk some more? I can even come to you, if you don’t have much time.” 

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my nerves; Satoru’s apology had helped cool me off some, “Okay. Yeah, lunch would be good.” I finally stopped pacing, moving my hand that wasn’t holding my phone to my forehead to swoop my hair back, “There’s some things we should talk about, I guess.” I trapped the corner of my lower lip between my teeth at the sort of uncomfortable air around our current conversation. There were definitely some things I wanted to ask him, at the very least. Like why was Satoru suddenly so okay with dating publicly after meeting me? 

“Alright, then.” Satoru said conclusively. 

There was a long silence that followed, neither of us sure of what to say next. But the obvious thought remained. We shouldn’t’ve had to deal with all this after only one freaking date. 

“Look, Lena, I really like you. And I don’t wanna fuck this up. Let’s talk and get this situation cleared up so we can go back to having fun and getting to know one another, ‘kay?”��

“Okay.” I finally managed a small smile, taking another deep breath. 

“As far as social media—maybe mute the apps for today. I’ll get a social strategist from my team to look into the situation and see how we can go about protecting your accounts.” 

I began to protest, “Oh you don’t have to do that—” 

“I insist.” Satoru cut in, “As long as you’re dating me, you shouldn’t have to worry about handling these things by yourself. You shouldn’t have to worry at all, about anything, really.” 

And there he was, the sweet Satoru whose words and actions made me blush and my heart flutter... I sat down on the end of my bed, nudging my toes into the soft, plush rug beneath my feet, “...Okay.” I finally agreed, a small smile on my face. 

“Now, get some rest, Lena. Sorry that all of this disturbed your sleep.” 

“It’s fine.” There was a part of me that wished I could fall back asleep in Satoru’s arms, like I had last night, “You should get some sleep, too!” 

“It’s alright, I’ve got some work to do for this project this morning. Plus, I don’t need to sleep much, anyways.” 

“If you say so.” Though I wasn’t nearly as straight-forward as Satoru when it came to expressing feelings, I wanted to make him feel wanted, too. My smile grew into a warm smirk before I spoke again, “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you at lunch...” I aimlessly fiddled with the duvet on my bed. 

“Yeah?” I heard Satoru’s tone soften considerably, his smile practically audible through the way he’d asked the word alone, “I’m glad to hear it. I’m always excited to see you.” Just like that, he one-upped me so effortlessly. 

I giggled to his words and the sexual implications of them, seeing as I’d already had a few run-ins with Satoru’s hard-on. 

“Hey...! Get your mind outta the gutter. I meant that in a nice, respectable way.” Satoru said matter-of-factly. 

I laughed and teased back, “You said it first!” 

“Well, maybe not just respectable...” Satoru trailed off, but then suddenly tore himself from his own line of thought, “Alright, that’s it. Goodbye, Lena, before you get me worked up.” 

“Night, Satoru.” My laugh lowered back into a giggle. 

“Goodnight, beautiful.” 

~ 

Since the internet had woken me up before sunrise, I’d decided to head into Okamoto’s HQ early as well, and was grateful for the bit of peace and quiet the near-empty building provided—outside of the occasional custodian staff member who would simply greet me.

But now closer to 9am, the more my production and mechanic team members entered the office, the more of them asked me about the Satoru situation. How the hell had everyone found out so fast, anyways? Was there a city-wide alert or something?? Okay, I was exaggerating in my thoughts, but this attention was still ridiculous. You’d think I was running for fucking prime minister.

I was currently tucked behind the desktop computer monitors in my office, following up on emails from the carbon fiber manufacturing group in Kyoto to ask them questions about the material specifics and safety. I suddenly saw Jin walk by the glass door in his racing mechanics suit—probably headed to the vehicle production building.

“Morning, Lena.” He opened the door and poked his head into my office, an amused look on his face.

“Hey, Jin.” I kept focused on and typed away on my keyboard, still a little overwhelmed from this whole dating rumor situation.

“You’re dating Satoru Gojo?” Jin’s amused look grew into an intrigued smirk. This was at least the seventh time I’d gotten the question in the last hour.

“Oh my god, not you, too…” I paused in my typing to drop my face into my hands, releasing a sigh.

“And you didn’t tell me??” He grinned, obviously interested in the gossip.

“One date! We only went on one date, okay…?!” I sat back up to exclaim, exasperated.

Jin raised his hands, “Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard! Wait, was that why you were almost late to the test drive a few days ago?”

“No!” I quickly replied, then actually thought aloud for a moment, “Well, not really…”

“Ooo, Lena…!” Jin teased me, grade-school style, “You better be careful hanging around big shot rich boys like that.” He chuckled, beginning to walk away from my office door, “Then again, it might just be good PR for Okamoto Group!”

I groaned dramatically and dropped my forehead onto the flat of my desk, “Ugh, leave me alone!”

“See you at the production status meeting later!”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time this morning, suddenly feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. I reluctantly retrieved it from my mechanic suit pocket, eyes widening to the Instagram direct message notification on my screen.

Francesco De Luca… my ex, and the Lamborghini Chief Designer I’d met almost five years ago at a F1 race on England’s Knockhill track. It was back when I was on the Ferrari team, still working my way up the mechanics and design ranks and making a name for myself in the industry.

I hadn’t heard from him in two years, not since the day he’d broken up with me when I told him I was returning to Tokyo. He’d let anger take over him after I told him the news, and had brushed off our two and a half years together like it was nothing. Needless to say, I was heartbroken for months; but I eventually had to move on and took it as my sign to start over at home in Tokyo. No dating, no boyfriends, no nothing—just work. I was turned off and frightened by the idea of dating, in fact. Well, until Satoru had randomly dropped himself into my life, that was.

Why was he DMing me on Instagram? I opened the message.

Though I’d finally managed to get over him a year ago, his message still made my stomach sink. What. The. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with men?! Why did they always love to pop up, as soon as you moved on to someone new??!? There was no questioning it. He’d definitely heard the news online about me and Satoru. I wanted to curse him out—for this bullshit, and for everything he’d done to me. For never answering any of my calls, for abandoning me when I was so anxious about returning home, even though I was excited for the big, new position at my family’s company. For brushing me off and erasing me from his life like we hadn’t been together for nearly three years. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!!!

I didn’t even realize I hadn’t blocked him on my socials. I typed back my brief reply before hitting the block button, somehow managing to hold back all the fire and anger I was more than ready to hurl his way.

~ 

Now 12:01pm, I strode into the restaurant just a few blocks down from the Okamoto headquarters—a steakhouse named Gyushi that normally was buzzing with business professionals from the surrounding buildings at this time. I now wore a taupe blazer that had pronounced shoulder pads and accentuated my shape, and a matching miniskirt with black sheer tights underneath. My curls were fastened up in a high braided ponytail, and my small black stilettos lightly clacked against the black and white marble floor when I walked in. It was then I realized that the restaurant was completely empty. Shit—were they closed today? Then why was the door open? 

A shorter man in uniform approached me just then, “Ms. Okamoto?” 

“Yes.” 

“Welcome to Gyushi. Mr. Gojo is already here. Allow me to escort you to your table.” 

“Oh, thank you.” I nodded, curving up the corners of my lips in a polite smile. 

I looked around the western style steakhouse as I followed the man through the front and towards the back; I’d never seen it this empty before... Were they remodeling? We made our way through the spacious restaurant, and eventually I spotted the head of white hair at a plush booth in the center of the back area—an area of the place which I’d never seen, let alone eaten in. Normally I could only grab a seat at the bar in the front for lunch; and trying to book a reservation for dinner? Forget about it. 

The man in uniform bowed his head once we arrived at the booth, “A waiter will come by shortly to get your drink order, and anything else you’d like to start with. Please enjoy.” 

“Thank you.” I matched the man’s small bow, then turned my attention to Satoru who was already standing up, “Hey, you.” My smile grew when my eyes met his. I looked him over once, appreciating the tailored fit of his navy blue and thin white striped suit as I approached him. 

“Hey, Lena, you look great.” Satoru’s eyes traced over my body as well, smirking. He opened his arms, and I joined him in a tight hug, watching him bend down to plant his usual, quick peck on my cheek. Satoru kept his arms locked around my waist but backed up his head a bit to get a better look at me, “You doing okay?” His thumbs rubbed over the fabric at my lower back. 

“I mean, crazy morning but yeah, I’m managing.” I said a bit dramatically yet truthfully, smiling up at Satoru. 

Satoru grumbled low and playfully, eyes moving up from my lips to meet my gaze again, “Hm, I’d rather you were relaxing.” 

I giggled lightly, “It’s fine.” I made a bold move, for me, and stretched up to press a small kiss to Satoru’s cheek. 

Satoru’s eyes softened and he responded by bending down and pressing his lips to mine in a long kiss. He always seemed to one-up me when it came to sweet gestures—even in this romantic way, he was competitive and could never just let me win. 

We sat down in the booth after we pulled apart, and my eyes flickered to the menu before me on the table. I’d only ever seen the short list of lunch specials, not the full menu. 

“You been here before?” Satoru asked, picking up his menu opposite me and skimming through it. 

“Yeah, for lunch. Crazy, it’s usually packed to the brim around this time of day...” I trailed off, looking around the wide-open dining area, “I wonder why it’s empty.” 

Satoru gently placed his menu back down and met my gaze with his own, “The place is ours for the next hour.” He clarified, “I wanted to make sure we could talk privately without anyone butting in—especially with all the media buzz around us this morning.” He said so simply, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Oh...!” I said, eyes slightly widened in surprise. He reserved the entire steakhouse for us?? With only a few hours' notice?! I was just really starting to see the breadth of the Gojo family’s influence. I mean I’d been trying to get a dinner reservation here for the past two years with no luck! 

Satoru quirked a brow, curious to the expression on my face, “Is that alright?” 

I quickly nodded over and over, still a little shocked, “Oh, yes, of course!” Act cool, Lena. I settled back into the comfy leather booth, picking up my tall menu card to hide my blushing. My eyes scanned through the long list of starters and entrees with no prices. 

“You want anything to start?” Satoru asked and I slid my menu down, so my eyes peeked over the top. 

“Um, I don’t know, everything looks so good.” I finally placed my menu back down on the table when my cheeks no longer felt as warm, biting the inside of my lip. 

“I’m pretty hungry.” Satoru noted, “If I got the chilled grand plateau for two, would you share it with me?” 

My eyes spotted the appetizer on the menu; it was a chilled platter with lobster tails, grilled clams, shrimp cocktail and oysters on the half shell. I gulped at the sound of it all. Seafood was my favorite food, “Yeah, that looks delicious. I’d have some.” I said calmly, trying to hide my excitement. 

“What do you like to drink here?” Satoru continued to scan his menu, flipping it over to check out the cocktails. 

“Well, I usually don’t since I’ve only come for lunch and typically have to go back to work after, but the highball spritzer mocktail is yummy.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Just as Satoru spoke, a waitress with short black hair approached our booth. 

“Hi, I’m Mai. I’ll be your server for today.” Her face looked strangely familiar... Almost like Maki Zenin, the young F1 driver who’d shown quite some promise over the past year, “Can I start you with anything?” She turned to Satoru first. 

“We’ll start with the grand plateau, and two highball spritzers. Thank you.” 

The girl nodded once and started to move back towards the kitchen. 

Gojo turned his attention back to me, “So, how are you really doing, since this morning? Any updates?” 

“Uh, well, nothing too crazy since I muted the apps—just a few friends and people I work with texting, calling, and asking me about it.” I rubbed my hands together, then neatly interlocked my fingers on the table in front of me. My ex, too. I thought, but Satoru didn’t need to know all that. 

Satoru hummed, half-frowning, “I’m sorry this happened like this. I should’ve known better.” He shook his head to himself, “I guess it’d been so long since I’d dated, let alone publicly, I wasn’t even thinking about that.” 

“It’s ok—it's not like you’re the one who posted the pictures everywhere. When is the last time you dated?” I asked, curious. 

Satoru crossed his arms over his chest, thoughtfully, “Like, seriously tried to pursue someone? Maybe... three years ago?” 

“Wow, that is a long time.” My eyes widened to Satoru’s revelation. It was longer than me. If that was true, then I could definitely understand him forgetting about his obsessive fanbase and the nature of celebrity gossip in Tokyo. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done other things in the meantime, but yeah, the last time I seriously dated someone was years ago.” 

“Why’s that? And what do you mean by other things?” I asked, clueless. I picked up the glass of water closest to me and began to take a sip. 

Satoru shrugged, “Just no time, really. Or, maybe unconsciously I was too focused on work and didn’t want to make time for it. And by ‘other things’ I mean casual sex.” 

I nearly choked on my water but cleared my throat instead, taking a quick sip from my glass before setting it back down. Of course he was sexually active. Of course that was what he meant by ‘other things,’ “Oh... right.” I nodded. 

Satoru watched me with intrigue, the corners of his mouth just barely curving upwards, “What about you? When’s the last time you dated?” 

“Two years ago. It was before I moved back here.” I explained, playing with the stem of my water glass. 

Satoru cocked his head to one side, arms still crossed, “Relationship?” I nodded in response to his question. He swiftly asked another, “Did you love him?” 

I blinked a few times to the intimate nature of the question, a bit thrown off guard, “Uh, yeah. I don't think he did, though…” I said honestly, “Did you... love the last person you dated?” I looked back up at Satoru. 

He simply shook his head, “It was someone my parents wanted for me, so it didn’t work out.” 

I nodded, unable to help biting my lip at the silence that followed the last of Satoru’s words. I finally spoke up, remembering what I wanted to say, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” Satoru said, unfolding his thick arms and gently resting them on the table. 

“Why are you okay with dating me publicly, but not the other girls you dated in the past?” I wanted to know his reasoning. Why was he okay with being seen with me, and why was he initially incognizant of how people and the media would react? 

Satoru leaned over the table, extending his hand to me. In response, I reached forward to place my hand in his. He really was the touchy type—I wouldn’t be surprised if his top love language was physical touch. Well, nearly every man’s top love language was. Was Satoru touchy, or was I just unused to all of this? Some part of me had a feeling it was mostly the latter. We were dating, after all; the only difference was, he was used to more intimate touching, while I hadn’t done it in two years. 

Satoru smiled at me admiringly as he spoke, “Lena, you’re smart... beautiful... kind... and you care about your work, just as much as I care about my own. I’m okay with dating you publicly, because you’re the woman I want to be seen with. No offense to the others I’ve dated and been unsure about, and I know things are still fresh and new between us, but I know that much—that I haven’t met anyone like you before.” Satoru paused, “Sorry I didn’t say all of this before, but I don’t think I even consciously knew how I felt until I really thought about it this morning. It’s only been four days since we met, after all.” He grinned. 

“Yeah,” I exhaled, smile growing, “it feels like it’s been much longer.” I admitted, propping my free arm up on the table to rest my chin in my palm. I slid my hand up to cover my mouth and cheeks, already blushing again. 

“Glad I’m not alone.” Satoru mirrored my expression, blue eyes softening as he gazed over me. His fingers began to gently knead at mine, “You shouldn’t hide your face so much, you know.” He added, and his voice sounded completely different, like there was no one else in this restaurant but us. 

I allowed my hand that was covering my lips and cheeks to slip back down to the white tablecloth, bashfully revealing my face once more. Just then, or waitress returned with our drinks. We let go of each other’s hands, giving the girl room to place our mocktails on the table, “Two highball spritzers... And your appetizer will be out soon.” She nodded once and departed again. 

“Thank you.” I smiled at her, while Satoru still kept his eyes on me. I wondered what he was thinking about? From the look in his eyes, it wasn’t anything family friendly. I took a sip of my mocktail, and Satoru did the same. 

“This is pretty good.” He noted, looking down at the glass, “Almost tastes like soda. Oh—” He seemed to remember something, “there’s a publicist I want you to meet; she’s a social media expert, too. Name’s Nobara Kugisaki. We briefly chatted earlier, but it seems like the situation on your social accounts is something she can easily fix by deleting and limiting comments from people you aren’t following. She had some more recommendations, too. If you want, I could give her your info...” 

“Yeah, that’s... probably a good idea.” I fidgeted with my fingers for a moment, “That would be great. Thanks, Satoru.” 

“You’re the Style VP of one of the biggest luxury sports car companies in the country, let alone world—you should have a publicist. Geez, I can’t imagine all the work you’ve had to do on your own these past few years.” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, sifting through media opps on my own has taken a lot more time since I got my role, almost feels like a job on its own, sometimes.” 

“That’s because it is.” Satoru pulled out his phone and began to tap around before typing something, “I’m sending her your number. She should give you a call later today so you can connect on next steps.” 

“Thanks, Satoru, for doing all this...” I smiled over at him, and he looked up from his phone to wink at me. 

 “Of course, babe. It’s the least I can do.” He paused, continuing to type out a message before seemingly hitting send and locking his phone again, “Now, with that settled... We still on for our date this weekend?” Satoru grinned. 

I rolled my eyes playfully, “Oh my god, you and this date!” I smiled and shook my head, “Yes, we’re still on.” 

Satoru silently cheered to himself, then responded, “Anything you’re in the mood for?” 

“Well, I did just get this outdoor pizza oven at my place in Yamanashi... Wanna come over and test it out? Plus, I’d really like to look at my new Nakamura painting there some more...” I trailed off, alluding to the piece he’d bought me on our first date; even though its insane cost of 521 million yen was nothing to Satoru, it meant a lot to me. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much.” Satoru smiled sincerely, before taking another sip of his mocktail, “Would rather you were looking at me though.” He winked before taking another sip. 

I rolled my eyes, dropping my face into my hands dramatically, “You and these cheesy fucking lines... Stop it!” I laughed. 

~ 

Later that week, on Friday night to be specific, I made sure to take off work exactly at six so I could grab a few things from the grocery store before heading to grandpa’s place: apple cider, cinnamon sticks, and barrel-aged whisky—the three main components of his favorite fall time cocktail. After a day of reviewing the new Okamoto model’s safety checks with the legal team at work, I’d changed out of my usual business clothes and into a comfy, myrtle green, silk midi skirt and a slightly lighter mock neck sweater. 

When I arrived at grandpa’s, I pulled into the short driveway. Even with all of his wealth, not only as the past CEO of Okamoto group but as a retired F1 driver himself, grandpa was never one to live grandly. He enjoyed simplicity, saving money, fine-tuning his cars in the garage, and enjoying the retired life in his tight-knit neighborhood’s community. I parked my sky blue, 1968 Lamborghini Miura S and hopped out with my tote bag of cocktail supplies slung over my shoulder, fishing for my key to grandpa’s place as I shut the heavy car door behind me. 

“Grandpa, I’m home!” I called from the entryway when I opened his front door, quirking a brow upwards when I didn’t hear a reply, “Grandpa...?” Maybe he was in the garage? I walked down the hall and towards the kitchen, breathing a little sigh of relief when I heard the familiar metal clink of a tire rim coming from the room just behind it. I dropped my bags on the countertop and headed towards the stream of warm light pouring out from the open door to the garage. It was a big, open space—perhaps larger than the rest of the house combined. It was a ten-car garage with all the tools, gear, and vintage tech a car nerd could dream of. I spotted him in a small folding chair beside the front passenger tire, fastening a lug nut onto it. I furrowed my brows in concern, “Grandpa...! You’re not supposed to be bending like that!” I put my hands on my hips, disapprovingly. 

“Hey, Lena-chan—perfect timing!” He stood from his seated and bent position next to the tire, a long, metal lug nut wrench in his hand, “Help your old man out, would you?” 

I pouted as I approached my grandfather, but hugged him tight, regardless, “Hi, grandpa. You should’ve waited for me to get here! The doctor told you not to strain your back, you know.” I reminded him, offering him an accusatory point before retrieving the wrench from his hand. He was a few inches shorter than me with short gray hair and a small beer belly, and he currently wore an old, slightly oily mechanic’s jumpsuit. I hiked my skirt up a little, and moved the chair away from the old, cherry-colored 1971 Okamoto H7 model as I didn’t need it. I knelt on one knee and tightly fastened the remaining lug nut before checking and tightening the ones on the other tires, “Did you fasten all of these by yourself??” 

“I’m fine, Lena-chan. Your grandpa’s not that old!” The man laughed heartily, and the way his deep dimples and wrinkles curved up into a full-face smile made my heart warm. No matter where I found myself, if I was away from home then I was always missing him. 

I pointed the long end of the wrench in my grandpa’s direction, “If you don’t take it easy, I’m gonna change the locks to your garage!” My pout grew. 

Grandpa raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay! I promise to take it easy. Now, more importantly, did you bring the goodies?” He clasped his hands together with a grin. 

“Mhm, all the ingredients for our special cider!” I nodded, putting the wrench back in its place on a nearby worktable. I wiped my hands off with a rag that rested on the corner of it. 

"Let’s get to it, then!” 

A little later, we sat on the couch in front of the western style fireplace with mugs of spiked apple cider in our hands. Remote in his free hand, Grandpa flipped through the various movie channels on the TV that was mounted up above the fire. He passed through various movie channels but paused when I rested my head on his shoulder, tired and already feeling the alcohol settle throughout my body. I realized that I hadn’t drank in a while, and that I was exhausted—even after a half-week of work, “Grandpa? Can I stay here for the night?” I nudged his shoulder with my cheek. 

Grandpa put the remote down on his lap and wrapped his arm around me, eyes currently fixed on an old western movie that played on the large screen before us, “Of course you can stay. It’s your home.” He stroked my hair with his hand, and I put my mug down on the coffee table before us to wrap my arms around him comfortably. 

Before I’d gone to boarding school for high school, Grandpa’s place had become a real home to me since I was a kid. I’d found myself in constant fights with my dad and stepfamily growing up, so much so that grandpa decided to take me in. Grandpa had been there when my nightmares were at their worst, too, always there to scoop me up into his arms and soothe me back to sleep after the painful memories of losing my mom and of my father’s fits of anger tormented me. Grandpa was the closest thing I had to a dad. In fact, after legally being my guardian for some time, teaching me everything he knew, and caring for me when no one else would, he truly was. 

Grandpa put his mug down on the table next to mine and picked up the remote again, continuing to scroll through the channels until he passed a local celebrity news channel—the image of Satoru and I kissing plastered all over the big screen. I jumped upright and made a noise of surprise at the image on the local channel, jaw dropping to the sight of a celebrity news reporter talking about the situation. 

“-the steamy picture seems to have been taken in front of the Tokyo Bay Yacht Club, and features Okamoto Group Chief Designer and VP of Style, Lena Okamoto, mid-kiss with Satoru Gojo. Gojo fans all over the internet have buzzing about these photos, primarily wondering if this is Tokyo's most eligible bachelor’s new girlfriend. What do you think? Tweet us your thoughts at—” 

“Agh!!” I reached over and clicked the channel button in grandpa’s hand, quickly flipping it to some variety TV show on the one following. 

I looked over at grandpa, then threw my face into my hands, embarrassed. Even without looking, I could feel his direct eyes on me. He was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke up, “You think I haven’t heard about you and the Gojo kid?” He asked simply. 

I sat up again, dropping my hands to my lap and returning my gaze to grandpa, “You... you know about this?” 

“It’s all everyone’s been talking to me about.” Grandpa scoffed out a quick laugh, “You wouldn’t believe the people who’ve called to ask me about that in the past few days...” He trailed off. 

“People have been asking you about it??” I suddenly felt anxious. 

“Just some old connections, and friends from Okamoto Group.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “You think ‘cause I’m old I don’t keep up with the latest news? You two are quite the talk of the city right now.” 

I groaned and leaned back into the sofa, allowing my head to roll back on it so that I was looking up at the ceiling, “This is crazy...!” 

“I was just wondering when you were going to tell me about this. You used to always talk to me about your boyfriends and such.” He half-frowned, seemingly disappointed about being left out of the loop—except I’d never intended him to be. Things were just too new with Satoru! 

I straightened up once more, looking at grandpa, “That’s because he’s not even my boyfriend! We’ve only been on one date! Of course, I would’ve told you if it was serious.” 

Grandpa retrieved his mug from the table, “Well, you already know what I have to say about it. I don’t care who the guy is; if he hurts you, then I have to kill him.” He simply shrugged before taking a long swig of spiked cider. 

I rolled my eyes and laughed once, “Oh my god, grandpa... Please be serious.” 

“What do you mean? I’m completely serious.” Grandpa blinked, having said the words without emotion. 

Grandpa simply stared at me, and I, back at him. Then, we abruptly busted out laughing. 

He placed his hand on my shoulder as our laughing died down, “But Lena-chan, I know how you can get about these sorts of things. I know you’re an introverted person, and this situation with the Gojo kid is probably a shock for you, but you can’t let these people get to you. People will always want something or someone to gossip about. It’s up to you to live your life confidently without any reservations. The best thing you can do in these kinds of situations, situations where it seems like everyone has something to say, is to be successful—to be your very best self.” 

I nodded to grandpa’s words, staring aimlessly into the space before me after he finished talking to think for a moment. Then I turned back to him, “But what about the board? What if all this news impacts my job?” 

“Something this small?” Grandpa crossed his arms again and shook his head, “It won’t. If anything, all this talk about you is good for the business. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw a spike in vehicle sales soon. Trust me, people much higher in leadership have given our family company far worse press.” 

I knew exactly who he was talking about. Toji. Though Toji was undefeated in his business endeavors whenever he actually was working, his issues were the situations he found himself in after working hours, “That’s true.” I agreed, reaching over to retrieve my cup once more to take a sip. 

“So, when am I going to meet Satoru Gojo?” 

“Grandpa!” 

“What?? I just want to give him a stern talking-to.” 

I shook my head, laughing softly, “Don’t try to scare him off yet, we’ve only had one date! I’ll bring him over and introduce him only when we’re serious... If things become serious, that is.” 

“If he can’t take the heat then he’s no good for you anyways.” Grandpa shrugged, “But seriously, Lena-chan, as long as he treats you like the princess you are, then he’s alright with me.” He nodded with finality, then cleared his throat, “But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.” 

“Grandpa!” I guffawed. 

~ 

 The following night I found myself diligently organizing pizza ingredients into small bowls on my long kitchen island, my homemade pizza dough already portioned out, proofed, and stretched over two personal sized pizza pans for Satoru and me. I kept the toppings fairly simple: marinara, fresh mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, prosciutto, chicken, caramelized onions, and grated parmesan. I’d popped a bottle of dry red sangiovese for myself, and even managed to find a sweet, non-alcoholic red for Satoru from a specialty bar in Yamanashi.

I’d checked the entire house at least four times by now, making sure that there were a few scented candles lit around the wide living room and kitchen area, and that the old record player was lowly buzzing and crackling with jazz music from my Italian grandma’s favorite—the Live John Coltrane Newport ’63 album. Everything was in its place, or, as much as it could be, seeing as the renovations on the back deck were still a work in progress. I took a long sip of sangiovese to calm my nerves, swirling the remaining liquid around in my wine glass after and biting my bottom lip. I couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. I hadn’t organized a date in years, let alone invited a man to my place in Yamanashi before. Maybe, in that way, I was a lot like Satoru when it came to his favorite boat. But it was a cozy date at my house, and my period had ended a few days ago, now, so… What if we ended up having se—

The sound of the doorbell jolted me from my thoughts, and I put my glass down on the countertop before making my way toward the front entrance in a maxi, light sepia lounge dress and long taupe cardigan that were both soft to the touch. I smoothed out the material one last time before opening the door with a smile, “Hi.”

“Hey, Lena.” Satoru leaned coolly against the entryway with his arm propped up above him, wearing a brown, knitted crewneck sweater with a simple white t-shirt underneath, and loose-fitting, dark brown, and pleated corduroy trousers with black tabi boots. He had a huge and carefully arranged bouquet of white orchids in his hand that he extended to me, “These are for you. They say orchids are good for new homes, and I thought that since you’re renovating the place…”

“Oh my god, thank you, Satoru! I love white flowers.” My smile grew as he passed me the bouquet and I took a deep inhale, “Come in!”

I embraced Satoru in a hug after he slipped off his boots in the genkan area by the door, stretching up on my tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He hugged me and pecked my cheek back in return, pausing to appreciate the fabric of my lounge dress after doing so, “Oh, this is nice… I like it.” Satoru rubbed up and down my back and sides with an intrigued hum and I giggled to his exploring hands.

“Thank you. You look handsome, too.” I smiled sweetly, and we finally broke apart, “You want a little tour before we make pizzas?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, let me put these in some water first.” I walked back toward the kitchen, fetching the pair of green stem trimmers out of a drawer in the kitchen island, and a large ceramic vase from a cabinet underneath the sink. I set all of the supplies on the table and turned back to Satoru to find him sitting down on one of the highchairs on the opposite side of island counter, “Want something to drink? There’s…” I picked up the unopened specialty bottle I’d gotten for Satoru to jog my memory, “a non-alc, sweet red wine, if you wanna try some.”

“Thanks, babe, you didn’t have to get a special bottle for me. But yeah, I’d love some.”

“I’m part Italian, you know. My mom and grandma would turn in their graves if I served you pizza without any wine.” I opened the twist cap and poured out a small serving into the bulbous, wide rimmed glass that matched mine, sliding it across the granite counter for Satoru to try, “Let me know what you think.”

Satoru poked his nose into the opening of the glass to take a light sniff, then took a small sip and paused before quickly downing the rest of the bit of liquid. He set the glass back down, “Damn, that’s good… Tastes like juice!”

“I’m glad you like it.” I smiled, before pouring him a more generous serving. I moved on to the orchids after, filling the vase with a little water then beginning to trim each of the thick ends of the flowers’ stems.

“How was your day so far?” Satoru asked before taking another sip of his drink.

“Pretty good, just was getting the house ready for this.” I clipped the end of a stem at the end of my words.

“All day?” Satoru rose a brow.

“Mhm, there’s been a lot of construction here over the past few months, so there was a lot of dust and stuff to clean up.”

“You don’t have to do all that for me.” Satoru said with a slightly contradicting, pleased smirk.

“Satoru, I’m not bringing you or anyone into a dirty house—which was why I was so caught off guard by the painting you sent me earlier this week. I mean, thankfully my study’s been in good condition, but still…” I shook my head, thinking of the crazy price point on that first date gift yet again, “But I love it, so thank you.” I said the last part with an endearing tone.

“You’re very welcome, Lena.” Satoru matched my tone but with a much lower voice.

“What about you? How was your day?” I continued snapping away at the ends of the flowers, curling my mouth a bit as I struggled with one particular stem that felt hard as steel.

“It was good, did a little work then—” Satoru was cut off when I finally trimmed the end of one of the orchids; the piece of stem immediately went flying in the air and hit him square in the forehead, “Ow.”

Though it had been a complete accident, I couldn’t help the deep, honest laugh that followed when I saw the small red mark on Satoru’s head. I even pointed in his direction as I guffawed.

Satoru stood to his feet, beginning to grin, “Oh you think that’s funny?” He started to approach me, walking around the kitchen island, “You think that’s funny, Lena?” Satoru easily grabbed and lifted me up, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck to gently nibble at my skin there, “Attacking people with flower stems??”

“No…!” I giggled out with a big smile, nearly out of breath from laughing so much, “I didn’t mean to…!” I playfully fought back, wriggling around in Satoru’s grasp.

“You’ll pay for that!” Satoru lifted my hips up so that I sat on the counter closest to the wall, continuing to nibble at my neck and earlobe as he prodded and tickled me with his fingers.

I jerked around in Satoru’s hands, “Stop…! Haha, I can’t breathe!” I laughed out, but stopped when I noticed that Satoru had suddenly froze, his hands resting on my butt, “What’s—” I started, but Satoru jumped in.

Satoru backed his head up enough to look me in my eyes, “You’re not wearing any underwear…” It was definitely a statement, but Satoru had said the words more like a question. Then it dawned on me: The fabric of my lounge dress was thin; he could probably easily feel my bare skin just beneath it…

My entire face burned bright red to Satoru’s words. I wasn’t. But who could blame me? I’d been at the house all day and had honestly forgotten!

Satoru pressed his forehead to mine, voice turning deep and velvety, “You always walk around like that…?”

“N-No!” I stuttered out, embarrassed, yet intoxicated by the way Satoru spoke.

“Or is it just for me?” Satoru cooed shameless and confidently, lips now ghosting over my ear. It was like he knew he was driving me crazy. He began to kiss my neck just below, gently licking and sucking there as soft moans fled my sighing mouth.

Somehow, against my own physical desires, I managed to tap Satoru’s shoulder for him to stop, “T-Tour…! The tour!” I gasped out. I spoke again when I caught my breath, “Let me show you the house.” I tucked my curls behind my ear, still blushing profusely. I shifted my legs as well, feeling a familiar, wetness between them when I moved.

Satoru broke away, now looking into my eyes with his piercing blue, and very visibly turned on as his breathing had grown slightly deeper, “Sure. Yeah, let’s see the place.” He nodded a bit mindlessly, still sort of regaining his composure.

I hopped off the counter and took Satoru’s hand, leading him to the next room, “Come with me.” I smirked, looking over my shoulder at him.

About an hour or so later, Satoru and I had ended the house tour in my study; with me admiring the Nakamura painting with my glass of wine in hand, and Satoru at my desk checking out my car design sketch book. We’d paused for a quick pizza break as well, and while I’d decided on marinara, mozzarella, prosciutto, parmesan and basil for my toppings, Satoru had fished the barbeque sauce out of my fridge to create a barbecue chicken pizza with mozzarella and caramelized onions on top—a choice I’d initially refused to try at first, especially as a pizza purist, but ended up taking a bite of anyways. The new pizza oven on the back patio must’ve had magic in it, because every pizza that that we put in it came out absolutely delicious.

“These are fucking amazing.” Satoru noted, before flipping a page in my sketchbook, “How the hell do you even think up this kinda stuff?” He looked up from the desk at me.

I shrugged, then took another sip of sangiovese.

Satoru put down the sketch pad, then stood up to approach a glass-lined bookcase filled with black binders, each labeled with different car model names. They weren’t all Okamoto cars, either. There were a number of Porsche, Lamborghini, Ferrari, Maserati, Mercedes, BMW, Corvette, Bugatti, Toyota, and Alfa Romeo ones as well, and they all totaled to about 75 binders, “What’s all this?” Satoru asked, picking up the 2022 Ferrari F8 Tributa binder with white lining and flipping through it.

“Those are some of my favorite car models, organized by make and in order by my personal most to least favorites. Each binder has full engine and body mechanics mockups, notes, and news clippings; and the black binders with white lining are ones I’ve worked on. I strode a little close to Satoru, looking over his shoulder as he flipped through the laminated pages. A few of the pages were even scrapbook-style, featuring cute mementos like article clippings from F1 races and ‘eureka’ moment-esque physics equations my team and I had scribbled down on pub napkins after hours. After all the pages with engine and car images, the last page in this binder featured a polaroid picture of me and my old mechanics production team at Ferrari, signed with everyone’s names and farewell messages written all over the page in Italian. In the black and white image, we were all beside the Autodromo Nazionale Monza track, and the team had snapped a picture of us all mid-laugh as they tossed me into the air above them.

Satoru chuckled at the sight of the picture of me laughing in my greasy racing mechanic suit, then turned to me with an admiring smile, “Lena, you’re amazing… You put all of these binders together yourself?”

I nodded shyly, as this sort of car model scrapbooking had become a personal passion and nerdy obsession of mine. Though I’d only started making the binders ten years ago, my goal was at least to have 500 of them by the time I was old and retired. I wanted enough black binders to fill an entire wall—not just a bookcase.

Satoru closed the binder and put it back, slowly turning to fully face me. His affectionate smile remained on his lips, and he reached out to gently retrieve the glass of wine in my hand before safely placing it on the desk beside us. He then pulled me close, wrapping me in his arms before raising one of his hands to stroke my cheek. I rested my hands on Satoru’s white t-shirt, his brown sweater now long tossed aside to the corner of the room as he’d accidentally gotten some barbecue sauce on it earlier. I felt his chest muscles ripple beneath his shirt when he slid his hand down my back, eyes peering directly down into mine as his fingers brushed over my cheek.

Satoru looked at me in a way that was so sweet, calm, and unflinching, making me realize I didn’t believe I’d ever been looked at so intimately in my life. And he was so handsome, with his messily styled yet neatly trimmed white locks of hair, piercing azure gaze, toned body, spotless skin, and chiseled jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, “You’re the smartest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

I tilted my head backwards to chuckle, “Oh, stop.” I was flattered but shook my head in disbelief.

“No, seriously, Lena…” Satoru tilted my had back down so that I was looking up at him once more, “I’ve never met a woman as passionate about something as you are. That passion for something you love… It looks so beautiful on you.” Satoru stroked his thumb over my cheek, and I felt my face redden at his words. They were the kind that pulled on my heartstrings.

I stretched up a little more, closing the space between us more as I closed my eyes, and Satoru dipped his head down to press his lips to mine, sharply inhaling through his nose as he immediately deepened our kiss into a wildly passionate one. I reciprocated his energy, beginning to feel just as impatient. Even though it was only our second official date, I felt I’d ignored my desires to touch and be touched by Satoru so many times that I’d lost count.

I wrapped my arms around Satoru’s neck, pulling him into me even further. Our kiss turned far more heated when Satoru slid his tongue into my mouth, both of his hands now slipping up and down the curves of my lightly covered waist. The fabric shifted up under his touch, and the combination of his hand movements with his kissing started to make my head spin. I took the opportunity to push my hands up underneath his shirt, appreciating the solid muscles of his chest and abdomen.

Satoru huffed out a short chuckle between open-mouthed kisses, tongue swirling around mine, “That’s not fair…” He teased lowly, sliding the hands that had been on my waist down to my ass before tightly squeezing my cheeks there.

I moaned into his mouth and felt desire pool in my abdomen. I wanted to be out of this dress already. It was too damn long and warm. Satoru planted kisses down my face to my chin, neck, then finally my shoulder, prodding his hot tongue over the skin there every so often. I had the feeling he was starting to learn that I really liked being kissed there. Maybe it was the way light moans squeezed their way up and out my throat every time his mouth was there.

With Satoru’s squeezing hands and skilled lips moving all over me, I began to pant to the lust that was taking over me. Somehow, I mustered up the strength to tell him for the first time what I really wanted, “Satoru, c-can we… move to my bedroom?”

“Baby, you can have whatever you want.” Satoru abruptly reached down to grab the backs of my thighs, pulling me up into his arms. I made a sound of surprise but smirked, quickly wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders to regain some balance. Satoru easily walked us out of my study, down the hall, and into my bedroom, kissing me all the while. And instead of tossing me onto the bed and ripping his clothes off like I was typically used to, Satoru sat me down on the bed, sitting right beside me and joining our lips once more before tipping us back onto the bed.

Satoru hovered into the space above me, holding his weight in his forearms on either side of my head as he kissed me hungrily. He broke away after a moment, resting back on his knees in the space before me on the bed so that he could watch my every movement. His hands found my bare ankles and he raised them just a bit, slowly opening up my legs so that the fabric of my lounge dress slid up my smooth thighs, “So pretty…” Satoru’s eyes and attention then fully fixed themselves on the space between my legs, licking his lips and only looking back up into my eyes to ask me something, “Can I touch you…?” He asked, voice turning deep and sultry as he slid one of his hands up my inner thigh.

“Yes, please.” I begged in a small voice with a quick nod.

Gojo’s left hand continued to slowly slip up my inner thigh until he finally reached my pussy, long fingers finding the small nub of flesh before rubbing with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. I jerked on the bed a little, brows pushing together with a small wince. But Satoru immediately adjusted his pressure, easing up into small, gentle circles around my clit. My body quickly eased in response, and I sighed, beginning to feel the pleasure from his movements.

“You’re really sensitive, huh, Lena?” Satoru said lowly, voice pure velvet, “And wet…” He noted, settling himself down on the bed at my left side. He rested on his side as he rubbed me, watching my every expression and movement as I laid on my back. I looked down at his thick, toned arm between my legs, fingers rubbing, circling, and gently pinching my clit in a practiced sort-of-way that made my breath catch in my throat.

“Look at me, baby.” Satoru asked and I immediately complied, turning my head to look at him beside me, “How long have you been this wet? There’s no way you’re this drenched after a few minutes of kissing...” Satoru paused in his circling to retrieve his and from between my legs, showing me his wet fingers in the dim light of my bedroom, “See? Look…” He turned his hand around and slowly parted his index and middle fingers, a lewd string of my juices appearing and on full display.

I blushed and turned my eyes back to Satoru’s face, nearly whimpering my answer I was so turned on, “Since… you kissed me on the counter…” I panted out, honestly.

“Oh, beautiful… That was over an hour ago.” Satoru returned his hand to the spot between my legs, continuing to rub me gently, just how I liked, “You’ve wanted to be touched for that long?”

I nodded shyly.

“Say it.” Satoru’s attention lowered to my neck, and he slid my long curls away to kiss it. I moaned at the combination of his lips and fingers on my body.

“I’ve wanted you to touch me for so long…!” I nearly cried out, still only speaking just above a whisper.

“Fuck, Lena…” Satoru cursed, burying his face into the pillow beside my head, before turning to speak again, “I’m trying my fucking hardest to take things slow with you…” He pressed his lips to my ear to say the next part, “But every part of me craves you.” Satoru’s fingers continued to rub gentle circles around my clit and I moaned, rocking my hips up into his hand. He chuckled to this, teasingly pulling his hand back to leave me wanting. His hand slid up my thigh instead, pushing up the fabric even further, “Let’s get this off.”

I aided Satoru in removing my lounge dress, lifting my hips and pulling the fabric up and over my head. I do my best to push my long black curls away from my face that had been frazzled by taking off my clothes, only then realizing I was completely bare as the dress had a built-in bra. I watched Satoru slowly look my entire body over, before he mouthed the word ‘fuck.’

I suddenly felt a bit shy, as I was the only one naked while Satoru was still fully clothed, “Um, what about you?” I asked, looking up at him.

Satoru stroked my cheek, then allowed his hand to slide down my neck and chest, “Patience, Lena…” He cooed and leaned in to kiss my lips, down my neck, and to my chest—already grabbing handfuls of my breasts and taking turns licking and sucking each of my nipples.

“Mmh…!” I moaned abruptly to the new sensation, mind starting to spin from all the attention Satoru was paying to my body.

“God, you’re fucking perfect…” Satoru paused to look me up and down again, then his gaze lifted and directly met mine, “You got any toys here, babe?” He continued to hold my chest, thumbs circling over my hardened nipples.

I blinked to the question. A man had never asked me that before, “Uh, yeah. Just one… Why?”

Satoru immediately slipped off the bed and stood up, “Where?”

“Um, bottom drawer.” I tilted my head in the direction of the bedside dresser to my right, swallowing a bit nervously as I was unsure of what Satoru would do next.

Satoru dropped into a squat and opened the drawer, retrieving the only item that was in it—a clit sucking and stimulating device. He grinned when he grabbed the handle and brandished it at me, “You keep it this close, huh?”

I shrugged silently, cheeks still red.

Satoru returned to his spot right next to me on the bed, lying on his side once more before offering me the toy, “Show me how you do it.” He smirked.

I took the toy’s handle into my hand, then glanced up to meet Satoru’s eyes, “By myself?” I questioned, “But I want you to touch me…” I batted my eyelashes up at him, pleading.

“We have all night for that.” He stroked my cheek, brushing a curl away from my face, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’ll give you everything you want.”

I held the white button on the toy with my index and it softly buzzed to life. I turned its head downwards, closing my eyes as I placed the small silicone opening on my clit. I sighed in relief from the stimulation—though it wasn’t exactly what I wanted in this moment, it was something. I pressed the button again, increasing the toy’s vibration just slightly.

Though I had my eyes closed, I was sure that Satoru was watching me intently. His lips pressed to my ear and his tongue lapped over the shell of it, lewdly dipping in before sucking my earlobe, “Tell me what you’re thinking about, baby.” He breathed out, and his low voice made me twitch with excitement.

I propped my legs up on the bed, giving myself and the toy more access to my pussy. I furrowed my brows, mind going foggy at the pleasure I was receiving, “I don’t know…” I trailed off; though the last time I’d touched myself yesterday morning, it was the thought of Satoru’s hands that had sent me over the edge. He didn’t need to know that.

“Yes, you do.” Satoru nearly growled into my ear, “What, are you embarrassed? You can tell me…” He kissed just under my ear, then hotly lapped and sucked the skin at the crook of my neck. At this point, he was definitely going to leave a mark there.

I swallowed down the saliva that was pooling in my mouth, “Y-Your hands.” I admitted, blinking my eyes open to gaze at Satoru.

“Oh, these?” Satoru rose his brows and sat up so he could rub his hands over my legs and up my abdomen, all the way to my chest, “What about them?” He repeated his hand motions again, slowly stroking from my legs up to my breasts, “What do you think about them doing to you?”

I could feel my heart beat thickly in my chest. I bit my lip and remained silent, not really wanting to tell him about my licentious thoughts and desires. I was beginning to get lost in pleasure from the toy’s stimulation, anyhow.

Satoru paused in his rubbing and awaited my answer, then realized I wasn’t going to speak. In response, he swiftly reached down to retrieve the toy from between my legs and out of my grasp, “Now, that’s not fair,” Satoru started, half-frowning but only teasingly, “I’m part of your fantasies, but don’t even get to know how?”

I groaned out a whimper and shifted my hips on the bed, now that the source of my pleasure was gone. I pouted, already giving in, “Fine…!” I whined, speaking in a small voice, “I think about your hands… wrapping around my neck, and choking me.” I admitted and tucked my arms at my sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Satoru looked amused, like he wasn’t expecting me to say that. A wicked grin spread across his face, “Shit, babe. I thought you were gonna say something sweet like me holding you, or something…” He leaned close to me, gently placing his free hand around my neck. It was big and warm, and I could feel his thumb and index just barely press into the sides of it, “You’ve got a dirty mind, don’t you, Lena?” Satoru sighed out a single laugh, then returned the toy to the spot between my legs, causing me to jump a little when the silicone opening directly collided with my clit.

“Ah!” A moan fled from my lips, and my brows pushed together in a straight line when Satoru simultaneously pressed a little harder on the sides of my neck with his fingers. I felt wildly turned on all of a sudden; if this continued on, it wouldn’t be long before I came.

“Fuck, you’re sensitive. This is only the second setting on this thing…” Satoru eyed the toy in his hand curiously, then tapped the button, slightly increasing its vibration on the next setting.

My hips jerked upwards, and I began to moan repeatedly, feeling the pleasure start to radiate all over my body, “Satoru…” I warned, “M’gonna cum…!”

“Hm, enough of this.” Satoru pulled the toy away from between my legs and clicked around on the buttons until finally turning it off. He tossed it on the other end of the bed somewhere and let go of my neck as well.

“No!” I softly cried out, “Please…” I begged, upset at having been denied my orgasm.

“Please what?” Satoru asked for clarification, far calmer and more collected than I was presently.

“Please let me cum!” I said desperately, my pleading eyes looking up at Satoru who was hovering over me.

“I’ll let you cum as many times as you want, beautiful…” Satoru kissed between my breasts, slowly pecking his way down my abdomen, “You just have to be patient.” He said in between kisses, “I promise you’ll love it. Now, can I taste you?” Satoru asked, eyes staring up at mine as he moved to trail kisses up the inside of my thigh. He lowered himself flat on the bed before me, thick arms already propping my bent legs over his shoulders.

“Please!”

“Mm… Good girl. Begging so nicely…” Those two words made my head spin. Satoru finally descended his lips to between my legs, starting with a long lick up the glistening folds of my pussy—his eyes on me the entire time. I shuddered and gasped to his licking, my right hand moving to grip the white locks of hair at the back of his head. He paused to speak briefly, gently rubbing my clit with the pads of his fingers while he talked, “You taste so good, Lena. Knew this pussy would be perfect.”

I moaned when his mouth returned to my pussy, especially when he continued on to gently suck and tug on my labia with his lips. The slurping noises he made as he shamelessly ate me out were driving me mad, and my hips jerked around to all the strong sensations and pleasure he was giving me. I settled down a bit when Satoru returned to focusing and licking up, down, and around my pussy lips and clit; a pathetic and desperate moan fleeing my panting mouth when he found a particularly pleasing spot right next to my clit—my favorite spot… How the hell had he found that so fast?? Satoru’s gaze lifted back up to my face at my reaction, and he continued to lick, flick, and prod his tongue there at a steady pace.

I watched as Satoru devoured me and gripped his hair tighter at the sudden uptick in pleasure I was experiencing. I nodded my head quickly, “Yes! Ahh, right, there…!” My legs bent even tighter over Satoru’s shoulders, pulling him close to me while rocking my hips up into his mouth.

Satoru didn’t respond with words, but I watched the corners of his mouth curve up into a smirk as he licked me, “Mhm…” He hummed, picking up the pace even more and shifting one of his arms to press his middle finger to my wet entrance. Satoru slowly pushed his finger into my pussy, working the long digit in and out of me while he continued to lick my clit.

I didn’t need to warn him this time. The loud desperation on my face and in my helpless moans were enough to signal to Satoru that I was going to cum, and hard, at that. But I cried his name, regardless, “Satoru!” My mind went blank just after, and the noise that escaped my throat was hardly human. I grunted and clenched hard around Satoru’s finger and my eyes briefly rolled back, hips jerking and spasming with every wave of the intense orgasm that took over me. Though Satoru didn’t back away and held my hips down with his arm, licking me through every second of my climax.

I was left a panting mess beneath him when he was finished with me, my legs shaking and trembling when his mouth and hand parted with my pussy. I looked up to catch my wetness all over Satoru’s lips and chin, nearly dripping down to his t-shirt from the abundance of it. He wiped his chin and grinned. I needed to be close to him again. I was grateful when he lowered himself down over me, his lips taking mine in a deep, lewd kiss. I tasted myself on his tongue and hummed into his mouth, slowly coming down from my mind-altering orgasm.

“Better?” Satoru asked between kisses, smirking.

I quickly nodded over and over, “Yeah…” I sighed, still a little out of breath, “Much better.” The toy was nothing in comparison to Satoru’s mouth.

“See? You just gotta trust me… You’re so cute.” Satoru grinned, showering me in light kisses.

“Satoru?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Do you have a condom?”

Satoru looked surprised by my words, yet again, and quirked a brow upwards, his smile just slightly growing, “Yeah, I always keep one in my wallet. Why do you ask?” He feigned cluelessness, just trying to get me to utter my desires aloud once more.

“I want you.” I said in a soft voice, trailing my hand down his chest and to his abdomen, “I want you to feel good, too.”

“What do you want of me? Be specific, Lena… Communication is important.” He cooed deeply into my ear, his tone flirty and enticing.

“I… I want your dick inside of me…!” My face reddened bashfully as I admitted what I wanted.

Satoru chuckled and sat back for a moment, amused, “You just came and already want more, beautiful? I mean it’s fine by me, but, just curious… How many rounds do you typically like?”

I blinked a few times, still dazed, “I don’t know, I haven’t had sex in a few years.”

Satoru looked the most shocked I’d ever seen him, eyes blown wide and jaw practically on the floor, “A few years??!?! How long is a few years??!!”

“Like, two?”

“Shit, Lena. How the hell do you manage that?” Satoru asked the clearly rhetorical question just above a whisper, shaking his head to himself and already reaching for his wallet in the back of his trousers. He opened one of the pockets and retrieved a large foil packet before passing it to me, “Hold that for me, please.”

Satoru stood to his feet beside the bed, quickly making work of his shirt by pulling it over his head, then undoing his belt before sliding it, his pants, and his underwear down and off his legs in one go. Now freed from the confines of his pants, Satoru’s dick sprang to life, and nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing the size of it—not even having already seen his bulge a few times now. He was massive. At least 24cm or 9.5in long, girthy, cut, and completely shaved other than the light trail of white hair below his navel. I blinked, wide-eyed and mouth agape as he rejoined me on the bed, slipping the condom from my seemingly frozen fingers, I was so still with shock, “Uhh… wow, um… You’re huge.”

Satoru exhaled a short chuckle and leaned close to me while he broke open the packet, pecking my lips before speaking, “Don’t worry babe, it’ll fit.” He assured me. But would it, really?! I couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll be a tight fit, but it will, and I’ll make you feel amazing. You just have to trust me, okay?” Satoru glanced down to roll the condom down the thick length of his dick, slowly spitting down onto himself to make it extra slick. He leaned in again, holding his weight on one arm beside my waist, and using his other hand to guide his dick to my pussy. I felt him, impossibly thick and heavy, press and prod against my entrance, “You trust me, babe?” Satoru spoke lowly into my ear, tone husky and heavy with lust.

“Yes…” I sighed lightly, beginning to feel slightly nervous. Satoru hadn’t given me a reason not to trust him.

“Then relax for me.” Satoru’s voice nearly made me dizzy, it was so hot. My pelvic floor muscles clenched in response. I took a deep breath, trying to release the tension in my body. Just as I relaxed some, I felt Satoru push in a little. I released a high-pitched moan in response and Satoru mumbled praises into my ear, “That’s good, Lena, now relax your hips for me…” He talked me through every inch of him, and now that the tip was in, his hand that had guided his dick slid around my side to sweetly rub and knead my hip, “Come on, baby, open up for me.” Satoru murmured the words into my ear, nearly whispering.

“Oh, fuck… You’re too fucking big…” I whined at Satoru’s size, doing my best to relax though his dick was stretching me unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It didn’t help that I’d been out of practice for two years. The next time I exhaled, his length pushed in some more, and I reflexively pulsed around his dick, a groan falling from my lips.

“Yes.” Satoru praised, “That’s it—you’re doing so well, baby.” He slowly pushed into me even more and I moaned again, unable to help but briefly clench around him again. Satoru buried his face in the pillow beside me with a long groan, “Fuck… You feel fucking insane, Lena…” His lips returned to my ear, tone absolutely wanton, “You know you keep squeezing me like crazy? You want me that much? Let me give you what you need then, beautiful.” His dirty talk was going to drive me insane.

Satoru slowly thrusted in a little more, and I sighed in relief, assuming that was the last bit of him.

“Just a little bit more, okay?”

“M-More?!” I gasped, in disbelief. I rolled my head back on the pillow and moaned helplessly to the surprising yet pleasant fullness in my abdomen. Though Satoru was huge, he’d gone so slow enough that I’d hardly felt any discomfort. He hotly licked up the length of my exposed neck before joining our mouths in a messy kiss. He pushed the rest of the way in, and we broke our kiss with moans as we were finally skin to skin. I’d never been stretched and filled to capacity like this—it was making my mind fuzzy.

Satoru moved his hand from my hip to my knee, lifting the underside of it to prop over his shoulder. My hips rose slightly from this new position, and I felt Satoru’s dick press and nudge against my cervix because of it. I whimpered and shuddered to this, and Satoru backed up enough to gaze gown at me, eyes examining my expression in a protective sort-of-way, “You okay?”

“Yes,” I started, brows knit tightly, “just, slow, please…” I moaned lightly and allowed my eyes to flutter shut for a moment, “Shit, you’re deep.”

Satoru rolled his hips against mine and I opened my eyes again, a smirk spread across his face, “Yeah, think I’m the deepest I can go.” He teased cockily, feeling his tip press against my cervix, “But I told you it would fit, didn’t I?”

“Shut up.” I huffed out, managing a quick laugh. Satoru joined in with a chuckle of his own, and I immediately felt the tension and anxiety release from my body.

Satoru rested his forehead against mine, “Only if you make me, babe.” He challenged, retreating his hips before pumping into me again. I gasped to the feeling, unable to help my loud moaning and groaning with every one of his thrusts that followed. Though slow in speed, they had a good amount of force behind them, and the delicious friction of Satoru slipping his cock almost completely out before fully pumping back into me was starting to make a familiar, hot pressure build in my abdomen. Satoru continued to tease with his dirty talk as he peered down at me, “I think I have a better chance of making you scream my name. What do you think?”

“Ah—” I made a quick sound of surprise when Satoru mixed in a few shallow thrusts with his long ones, and my back arched on the bed, his dick perfectly prodding against the bundle of nerves deep inside of me, “Satoru…!” I cried, reaching down with one hand to grasp and attempt to pull his hips into mine.

“Yes, Lena?” Satoru said coolly with a knowing smile. He seemed so perfectly calm and in control, compared to my messy, lust-filled mind.

“Please!” I gripped and pulled his hip in tighter.

“Please what? Remember what I said earlier, about communication?” Satoru continued to stroke into me over and over as he spoke; I was honestly beginning to lose my mind.

“Communication is important…” I somehow managed with a cry, though it felt like my brain was melting every time Satoru hit my spot.

“That’s right. Now, what would you like me to do, baby?” Satoru cooed.

“Please, fuck me d-deep…!” I begged, still trying my best to pull Satoru’s hips closer into mine. I wanted more. More of that sweet friction he was giving me with every deep thrust. The way his dick stretched, pushed, pulled, and prodded the most sensitive parts of me; I wanted to be consumed by him and those sensations he was giving me.

“Like this?” Satoru abruptly picked up his slow pace into a quicker one, ceasing his long thrusts and fucking me instead with shorter, deep thrusts, all perfectly aimed at my a-spot. Instead of pulling out all the way with each pump, he remained deep inside, and the repeated stimulation to the area just beneath my cervix made me want to cry, it felt so fucking good. Satoru sat upright to watch me moan helplessly beneath him as I was completely pleasure-struck. He held the back of my left leg for leverage as he fucked into me, my breasts jumping from the force of each thrust. Satoru grabbed one and squeezed hard, his eyes visibly starting to grow cloudy with lust, “I thought you said I was too big… Now you want me deep?” He released my leg and instead wrapped his hand around my neck, perfectly squeezing the sides of my neck so that his grip was tight, but I could still breathe, “What’s the truth, Lena?” He was so sweet yet cruel at the same time—giving me exactly what I wanted physically yet repeatedly making me say exactly what was on my mind, even when I was too embarrassed or turned on to answer properly.

I cried out pathetically beneath Satoru, clenching tightly around his dick when he choked me, “Please, please don’t s-stop I need this…!” My words were slurred and hardly discernable, I was so drunk with pleasure. I could feel a familiar pressure building up in the pit of my stomach, and knew I was close.

“I know, baby, I know.” Satoru’s eyes looked dark, like he was beginning to lose himself in pleasure just as much as I was. He used his hand that was not around my neck to roughly comb away the white strands of hair from his face, forehead beading with sweat. He then reached down and started to rub my clit with the pads of his fingers as he perfectly fucked into me, over and over, “Why don’t you fucking cum for me?” Clearly worked up with lust as I was, Satoru spat the question between clenched teeth, more like a demand.

Something low in my abdomen twisted with excitement when Satoru spoke to me like that; and I knew that some sick part of me wanted him to be even more cruel to me. Right then, I wanted desperately for him to treat me however he wanted. I groaned messily to the triple attack on my body—Satoru harshly fucking into me, choking me, and gently rubbing my clit all at the same time. My pleasure rapidly increased from the additional sensations he gave me, and my eyes went wide with shock at the extremely intense orgasm that was quickly building up in my body. It was almost scary, “S-Satoru, g-gonna cum… really hard…!” I warned in an uneven voice, my hips involuntarily squirming around to free myself from the pleasure that was too much, and too strong. I even unconsciously clawed my nails at his lower back. But Satoru’s hand around my neck kept me locked square on his dick, that was now driving into me at an even faster pace.

Satoru bent close to me, looking directly into my eyes, “Mm-mnh… Don’t run, baby. You don’t get to run from this. You have to take it, Lena. Now do what I ask and fucking cum.”

I came with a scream at Satoru’s command, feeling tears well up in my eyes at the intense explosion of pleasure that continued in waves as he fucked me through it. My body convulsed harshly with each strong pulse of my pussy, one… two… three… four times; and on the fifth, my hips jerked so hard that I jumped out of Satoru’s grasp and on my side next to him on the bed. I panted heavily, trying to regain my sanity after an orgasm that strong. It was so much, so insanely strong, and so good that I felt the tears finally fall from my eyes.

Satoru followed me to where I’d jumped on side of the bed and chuckled; wiping one of my tears then kissing my cheek, neck, and shoulder, “You’re just a big crybaby, huh?” He said softly, kissing my cheek again, “You okay? That felt like a big one…”

I quickly nodded, wiping the remainder of my tears, “Shit, I’m always fucking crying on our dates, aren’t I?” I sniffled, turning to look up at Satoru after I caught my breath, “Yeah, I’m okay, just had the biggest orgasm of my life—no big deal.” I laughed once.

Satoru smiled, reaching up to stroke my cheek before pressing his lips to mine, “Glad I could be a part of that.” He hummed and closed his eyes, dipping his head down to rest his forehead on mine again. In our current position—with me on my side and Satoru hovering over me—I could feel his condom-covered dick twitch against my ass cheek, “Mind if I finish, baby? I’m really close… Or do you need a break?”

“Oh! No, I don’t mind!” I shook my head and lifted my leg, practically handing it to Satoru as he took it in his grasp and positioned himself at my entrance, “I want you to cum, too.” I said sweetly, grabbing his free hand and interlocking our fingers.

I moaned when Satoru pushed back in, filling me completely in one swift thrust. His forehead remained against mine as he pumped into me over and over, movements growing more and more erratic and unfocused by the second. I heard Satoru’s breathing become ragged and uneven, the sweat from his forehead trickling onto mine as he squeezed my hand. It was satisfying, being able to feel him unravel and lose himself in pleasure as I had, “Fuck… You know you get even tighter after you cum, babe?” Satoru straightened up a bit, enough for him to drive his hips even harder into mine, and enough for me to see his face better. He stroked in and out of me continuously, until I saw his jaw clench considerably, suddenly ceasing with a particularly hard thrust and a loud grunt. Satoru bared his teeth and groaned when he came, tilting his head back for a second, then offering me a few shallow thrusts and looking down at himself buried in my pussy, “Shit, Lena… You’re fucking unreal.” He glanced up into my eyes at the last of his words, then dramatically collapsed onto the bed beside me on his back.

I giggled at Satoru’s dramatics, turning on my other side to face him, “You okay?” I playfully returned his question from earlier.

“Yeah, the best.” Satoru exhaled, wiping his forehead before turning to look at me. He leaned over to peck my lips once… twice, then slowly slid the condom off his dick before slipping off the bed and standing. He tied a knot on the end of the condom and tossed it into the wastebin in the corner of my bedroom. And I appreciated this view of the man walking around naked my room in his full glory, insanely cut and toned all over. The view of his round, muscular butt when he bent over to retrieve and throw away the condom’s foil wrapper was particularly cute. Satoru turned towards me again as I comfortably slipped under my duvet, “You want some water?” He asked.

“Yeah, um, see that white pull-out cabinet under the vanity?” I pointed to it on the opposite side of the bedroom, “There’s a mini fridge in there with glasses and a water dispenser.”

“Well, that’s fucking genius; I was about to go back to the kitchen.” Satoru admitted, instead making a beeline for the mini fridge and filling up a tall glass of water. He returned to the bed and carefully passed me the glass as he slipped under the covers with me.

“Thank you.” I took a number of long sips, nearly drinking half the glass in one go. I passed the glass back to Satoru and he took a short swig before reaching back to rest it on the bedside dresser next to him.

“Of course.”

We gazed at each other for a moment, and I suddenly got up and reoriented myself so that I was straddling Satoru under the covers, a pleased and giddy grin on my face. I rested my hands on Satoru’s chest and felt him gently grasp and knead my hips with his thumbs in response.

“What’s gotten into you?” Satoru cracked a smile, curious to my sudden excitement.

I was just feeling playful. I bent close to Satoru’s ear, “You.” I whispered, “You got into me.” I started with a kiss to his cheek, then kissed down his neck, then to his chest…

“Mm…” Satoru hummed affirmatively, “It was really fun, huh?”

I sat up again and nodded with a smile, next pressing my mouth to Satoru’s in a brief yet passionate kiss. He spoke up again when I broke it.

“You wanna go again?” Satoru challenged with a raised brow.

I flipped my long curls behind my shoulder and tucked a loose strand behind my ear, sure that my hair was a complete mess now, but I was quite unbothered at this point, “Yes.” I nodded, and our lips came together once again—immediately diving into a series of quick, excited, and heated kisses, until Satoru suddenly broke away.

“Shit.” He let go of one of my hips and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What?” I asked, a little concerned.

Satoru met my gaze once more, “I don’t have any more condoms.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip in realization and blinked down at Satoru laying beneath me.

“You on birth control or anything? If so, I could show you my negative test results if you wa—”

“I’m not.” I interrupted. I hadn’t been since I broke up with my ex… Work had picked up so quickly since I’d moved back to Tokyo two years ago, I hadn’t even thought about it. Well, not until now.

“Fuck.”

We simply stared at each other in silence, the unspoken, next natural question on both of our minds hanging heavy in the air: Should we just do it anyways?

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 2

summary: they arrive at the compound, where some are eager to meet the new girl and others...not so much.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: this got so much more traction than I was expecting with the prologue and chapter one, I tried to get this one up quicker to keep it going! thank you so much for reading, xoxo

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

It turns out that flying on a jet was a hell of a lot faster, and smoother, than flying commercial. Or as a stowaway on a cargo plan. Neither of which Charlotte enjoyed, but sometimes you just have to make do. It was around 7:30am when the jet touched down on a long airstrip in the middle of a vast forest. 

Both women had dozed off during the flight, the pancakes and alcohol lulling them to sleep with the hum of the engine making it nearly impossible to resist. They taxied through down the runway under the cover of the woods before entering a clearing. There was a massive hangar open before them, several different types of aircraft visible through the open garage door. This seemed to be the most corporate of the fleet, with the rest ranging from tactical to full blown heavy artillery. 

Charlotte sat up in her seat, peering out the window. The nerves were hitting her for the first time. She saw a handful of uniformed men and women working in the hangar, performing maintenance on the aircrafts. 

“Good morning sunshine,” Natasha smiled, still tucked under a blanket. 

“Morning.” 

“Welcome home.” 

When the ramp opened, an eager uniformed man scampered into the cabin. “Agent Romanoff.” He saluted, waiting for her to nod before he continued. “How was the flight? Can I take your bags?” 

“Don’t know, I slept through most of it.” She gestured to the duffel bag and small suitcase Charlotte had retrieved from the hotel before they left. “You can help Ms. Rossi with her bags.” 

Giving a tight-lipped smile, Charlotte followed Natasha down the steps. Unabashedly holding her heels by the straps, Nat strode across the concrete floor to a set of sleek looking doors. Doing her best to ignore the questioning glances, Charlotte kept her eyes straight ahead and followed the one person she knew into unfamiliar territory. 

The doors led to a hallway with elevators to their right. The noise coming from the end let her know the hallway opened up to a larger room, one that sounded like it was already bustling with activity. To her relief, Natasha hit a button on the elevator instead of continuing towards the noise. 

“I’ll show you to your room first. I figured you’d want to get settled in, get cleaned up.” 

“Thanks,” Charlotte nodded. “I think I have glitter in more places than I even knew existed. And I smell like tequila.” 

“There are worse things to smell like.” Natasha grinned as they stepped out into another lobby area. “This is the training side of the compound. The hangars, weapons manufacturing, shooting range, training facilities, it’s all over here. This is where the SHIELD agents work. It’s the more…populated side.” She gestured out the window at a dozen trainees jogging. “They don’t live here. The only ones that do are the ones on the team.” 

“You mean The Avengers?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. 

“You could say that,” She gave a wry smile. “I prefer to say roommates.” 

They stepped out into the fresh air and Nat pointed out a black ATV. The breeze felt nice on her cheeks as they drove down a paved path across the grounds. The entire thing seemed to be completely secluded, as if it were dropped in the middle of the woods. Charlotte couldn’t even see the entrance to the place. They passed a few smaller buildings, which Natasha dubbed storage and “room to grow”; as well as a beautiful lake off to the left. Marveling at the fog spread across the water, she didn’t realize they’d made it to their destination. 

The building in front of them had a similar exterior to the last one they’d come from. It was gray, very modern looking, though smaller than the training side. This one seemed to be only three or four stories tall, but it extended out over the water with balconies jutting from the higher levels. 

“This is the residential building. Most of us stay here full time, but some of us have rooms at the Tower in New York City, too. You can come next time I go up there, if you want. It’s more peaceful here, though. Personal preference, I guess.” She opened the door for Charlotte to walk through. “First floor is a private training facility, second is storage and a theater room, third and fourth floors are rooms, and the fifth floor is a common area, kitchen, and a meeting room.”

They stepped into another elevator where Natasha punched the button for the fourth floor. “I put you on my floor. Just so you’d have a friendly face.” She paused. “Although, sometimes the team can be a little too friendly in their own right. I don’t see an issue with them warming up to you.” 

The doors slid open and they entered a small common area with doors on every side. Natasha led her to a door on the far wall and gestured for her to enter. “We can set up your keypad in a minute, everything here is print based. Some people had trouble keeping track of their keys.” She rolled her eyes, but Charlotte was too enamored with the room to notice. 

It was plain, just the bare bones of a room, but it was perfect. A big, king-sized bed bathed in sunlight from the window behind it. Large closet and an even bigger bathroom. She dropped her duffel bag on the floor and looked around. 

“You’re welcome to decorate or do whatever you want, it’s all yours.” Natasha smiled as she watched her take everything in. “Here, let’s set up your keypad so I can give you some space. I’ll leave my number, just let me know when you get bored or hungry or feel like socializing.” 

She closed the door behind her, leaving Charlotte to settle in. 

I think this will do. She thought as she sank into the plush bedding. 

__________________________________________________

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” Bucky grunted as he slammed his fist into the punching bag. 

“I did tell you,” Steve protested before being interrupted. 

“No, you told me we found someone with potential HYDRA affiliation. You said the team was working on tracking her down and making contact.” Bucky stopped hitting the bag to snarl his words out. “What you didn’t say was ‘Hey buddy, there’s a chance we found someone kept in the same hellish lab as you and we’re trying to get her to come shack up with us. Oh, and she may or may not have been bred to kill you.’” 

Sighing, Steve sat on the bench next to the sparring ring. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just didn’t know how to say it.” 

“You mean you didn’t know how I’d take it.” Fists slammed into the bag.

“Well,” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that such a stretch?”

“I think I’m handling it pretty well.” Bucky gave a forced smile as he stepped away from the punching bag, beginning to unwrap his right hand. 

“It was my idea to keep the details under wraps,” Nat’s voice echoed from across the training room as she walked toward them, wet hair darkening the collar of her sweatshirt. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like we were keeping things from you. There’s just so much we don’t know.” 

Bucky frowned. “Seems like there’s quite a bit you do know.” 

“I’ll tell you anything you want.” She smiled, always able to walk the line between cold sarcasm and genuine warmth. 

Natasha took a seat on the bench next to Steve, both of them watching Bucky as he threw the sweaty tape away. He stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. 

“What’s her name?” 

“Charlotte. Charlotte Rossi.” 

“Where’d you find her?”

“Most recently, the high stakes room at the Wynn.” Nat smirked. “Prior to that, I saw some patterns that caught my interest and dug a little further.” 

“I read the file.” Bucky’s face was stoic.

“Do you have any memory of her? Any recollection?” 

His brows knit together, thinking. “No. I don’t remember much from that…from those years. Fragments, maybe. If I saw her face it might, I don’t know, might bring something back.”

Steve watched his friend carefully, looking for any sign of distress. Bucky seemed calm, controlled, albeit a little strained.

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs.” 

Bucky nodded slowly. “She’s here…for good?” 

“To be determined. My offer wasn’t exactly for a week’s vacation.” Natasha stood, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t up front with you on this. I promise not to go around you again.” 

“I get it.” He looked at Steve. “I know I don’t have the best track record for handling questionable information.” 

Grinning, Steve stood to join them. “What? You think throwing Sam out of a moving Quinjet because he told you he’d be leading point on the mission was an overreaction?” 

Bucky ran his tongue over his teeth, suppressing a smile. 

“No, totally reasonable.” Nat elbowed him. “Just like when he ripped the arm off of Tony’s last suit because he said Bucky’s arm was a ‘war relic’,”

“Alright, point made,” Bucky groaned, shrugging her hand off and walking towards the door.

_____________________________________

Charlotte: is it too late for breakfast? 

Natasha: I know I said there are no stupid questions…..but ;)

Charlotte: music to my ears

Natasha: meet me outside the first floor elevators in 5. 

Charlotte slipped her phone back in her pocket, grinning. Thank God superheroes have a sense of humor. Well, at least one does. She made a mental note to ask if FedEx delivered to the compound, as she was in dire need of an online shopping spree. The majority of her clothes were tailored to Vegas, where she’d taken up residence the past few weeks. With the way she drifted from place to place, it wasn’t uncommon for her to leave an entire wardrobe’s worth of clothes in a hotel closet when she left town. For this trip in particular, she’d brought a few of her absolute favorite dresses, three sets of heels, and two designer bags she’d treated herself to after a particularly lucrative poker win.

Unfortunately, not much of her attire lent itself to casual daytime wear. She had a pair of jeans and trusty white sneakers, and luckily a plain white tank top shoved deep into her suitcase. Unless there was some kind of Avengers’ gift shop on the premises, she’d be repeating this look pretty much daily. 

She made her way to the elevator and when the doors slid open on the first floor, Natasha stood waiting for her. A tall, clean cut blonde man stood next to her, who Charlotte recognized instantly. 

“Hi…” She stepped out cautiously as the duo grinned. 

“Charlotte, you remember Steve.” Nat seemed to be the most amused of all three of them. The man nodded, holding his hand out for her to shake. 

“We were never officially acquainted.” His handshake was firm but his eyes were kind. “Steve Rogers.” 

“Sorry about that,” She pursed her lips. “I thought you were coming after me for my lack of patriotism.” 

Steve chuckled. “From what I’ve heard, you tried to represent our country too. Maybe we’re not so different.” The sharp look Natasha shot him as he referenced her Team USA mishap didn’t go unnoticed. Charlotte didn’t seem to take offense, simply raising an eyebrow as she carefully considered her response. 

“I think I can stick a landing a little better than you.” Her face was blank, but her eyes crinkled at the corners ever so slightly, an almost-smile. 

“I don’t doubt it.” Steve smiled. “Welcome to the compound.” 

“Thanks.” Charlotte kept her eyes on him as he led the trio through the doors. 

Natasha fell into step beside her, showing her unspoken camaraderie. Years of undercover work had honed her ability to read body language and pick up on cues undetectable to anyone else. As she watched Charlotte over the past twenty-four hours, she noticed several things. She was calculated, but not cold. Her humor was dry and she kept a poker face throughout most of her interactions, hints of a smile showing through as she warmed up to someone. She was quick-witted, but seemed to think through her replies thoroughly as she decided if someone was trustworthy or not. A familiar tactic for someone who wasn’t sure who they could rely on. Her persona was confident, relaxed, assured. Her body told another story. 

When she stood, her posture was erect. Her weight was slightly shifted forward on her toes, like someone prepared to cut and run at any moment. She could stand still, facing the person in front of her, but her eyes would flick around to every detail happening around her. She presented herself like a predator, but her behavior was that of prey. 

It made sense. She was taken, put through horrors beyond comprehension at the hands of HYDRA. Prey. She was altered, trained, brainwashed to be an elite fighter, an assassin. Predator. But now? She was somewhere in between. Not quite a predator, not quite prey. 

As Natasha strode down the path towards the main building, she couldn’t help but feel like even Charlotte didn’t know which category she fell into. 

“This is the cafe,” Steve gestured when they walked into the largest building. Charlotte recognized it as another entrance to the same place they’d left earlier that morning. This was where all the noise was coming from. It was a large room, flooded with natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows. There were two dozen circular tables in the middle of the room, most of them empty. A few had small clusters of people in navy blue windbreakers or jackets, all emblazoned with the trademark “A” of the Avengers. There was a kitchen area to the right, a long countertop spanning part of the wall. “They serve three meals here every day, it’s all up for grabs. This is where all the agents and recruits eat while they’re here. We have a kitchen back in our building, but unless one of us feels like cooking, there’s not much more than dry cereal there.” 

They walked towards the kitchen, a few agents pausing as they walked through the room, looking at Charlotte over their clipboards and conversation. Natasha pulled open the door to a commercial sized refrigerator, revealing a massive selection of food. Everything from fresh fruit to Smucker’s PB&J sandwiches. Eyes wide, Charlotte glanced at Natasha. 

“Have at it,” She nodded, grabbing an apple and biting in. 

When they’d sufficiently raided the kitchen, Steve led them out another set of doors to a patio area. To the right, they could see the edge of the lake peeking around the treeline. To the left, there was an open field, the targets on the far end indicating a shooting range. Charlotte lowered her arms and let the barrage of snacks tumble onto the table. 

“I didn’t think superheroes ate junk food,” She raised an eyebrow, pulling open a bag of mini-donuts. 

“Superheroes don’t, Avengers do.” Nat winked and stole one from the packaging. “Plus, not all of the agents here are combat focused. There are plenty who work in the control room or in tech and engineering and don’t have to give a shit about being mobile.” 

“Well here’s to not being mobile.” She held her chocolate milk in the air and the three of them toasted, just in time for a dozen agents to jog by on the path out in front of them. 

Bucky stood on the path around the lake, hidden under the cover of long morning shadows. He watched as Steve raised his plastic chocolate milk into the air, appearing to cheers with the two women at the table. One was Natasha, the other he assumed was the new girl. Charlotte. 

She was around Natasha’s size, a little more overtly muscular. He could see her toned arms clearly thanks to the tank top she was wearing. They seemed relaxed, talking and laughing. He took a deep breath and looked down at his phone. 

Five Minutes Ago

Steve: Come meet us on the patio by the range. You can meet Charlotte. We’re showing her around. 

Sighing, Bucky shot back a reply before shoving his phone into his pocket. 

Bucky: Sorry - told Sam I’d help him with something. Next time. 

He turned and resumed his run around the lake, going the opposite direction of the compound. Steve glanced up from his phone, brow furrowed, just in time to see black hair disappearing around the treeline.

[pcttrailsidereader]

AI Reaches Trail . . . Has Big Tech Gone Too Far

By Adam Roy, Backpacker Magazine

Google has figured out that I like to hike. I’m not sure what tipped it off—could it be the roughly 40 hours per workweek I spend editing and fact-checking stories about hiking, or maybe the nights and weekends I pass searching for trailheads and obsessively checking and rechecking the weather forecast. Whatever the reason, whenever I log on I get served up a stream of gear promotions and tourism spots for outdoor destinations. But about a week ago, I saw an ad for Google’s Pixel 8 smartphone and its onboard Gemini artificial intelligence that stopped me in my tracks.

The ad goes like this: A dad is trying to set up a tent in a campsite. The dad is floundering, tangled up in guylines and collapsing nylon, when he turns around and notices his son has stopped collecting firewood and is watching him with dismay, probably thinking about how much better his stepdad is at camping. Then the dad pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the tent, and feeds it into Gemini, which returns a numbered list of instructions for him. Smash cut to the now-content kid and father enjoying their perfectly-pitched shelter.

My first reaction to the ad: I’ve been there. Whether by neglecting hot spots until they bloomed into blisters, leaving a vent open in a snowstorm, or spending an hour struggling to coax a flame out of a pile of damp wood, I know what it’s like to struggle on a camping or backpacking trip in front of other people. The desire to avoid that struggle and the embarrassment that comes with it is a pretty powerful motivator.

My second thought: This is going to get someone into so, so much trouble.

Google and other Big Tech AI firms like OpenAI, Meta, and X want to see their technology everywhere. Using it to filter restaurant results is one thing, but pushing artificial intelligence as a substitute for basic outdoor skills comes with real risks. Let’s start with the fact that Google’s AI arguably still isn’t up to the task of keeping people safe in the outdoors: We’re barely a month out from Gemini telling searchers to eat glue and cook spaghetti in gasoline. Although those errors didn’t do any damage besides embarrassing a handful of highly paid software engineers, it’s not hard to imagine AI trained on the unfiltered whole of the internet telling a new camper it’s safe to run a propane heater inside their tent or eat a poisonous mushroom.

(That’s assuming, of course, that the AI is even capable of giving actionable information: Zoom in on the simulated advice Gemini offers in the commercial and you’ll notice that step 4 is “Assemble the tent poles according to the manufacturer’s instructions.” Apparently Google Dad, like so many dads before him, just needed someone to remind him to read the manual.)

You Still Have To Use Your Brain

Yes, ideally AI users would be cautious consumers, sniffing out bad or obviously dangerous information before acting on it. But we already have real-life examples of people over-relying on much less intrusive technology with disastrous results. Take another popular Google product, Google Maps, for example. There were the hikers who needed rescue after following an imaginary trail in Maps up the side of a mountain in British Columbia, and the German tourists who had to trek two days through the Australian bush after a similar error stranded them and their car on a remote dirt track. The company is currently fighting a lawsuit from the family of a man who followed its GPS directions off of a collapsed bridge.

In Colorado, tow companies make a killing every year dragging stranded motorists off of mountain 4×4 tracks after app-assisted “shortcuts.” The plug-and-play, let-us-think-for-you, don’t-bother-checking-the-sources tone of Google and other corporations’ marketing of their artificial intelligence only makes incidents like these more likely.

My bigger objections to AI-directed camping, though, may be philosophical. Whether you learn from a friend or an expert online, there’s something wonderful about becoming competent in the outdoors. It’s a long, awkward, and sometimes uncomfortable process. But it’s joyful too, fostering self-confidence and a deeper sense of connection with your environment. Mediating that through a robot assistant strikes me as a quick way to dilute that, ensuring that you neither learn any real outdoor skills nor unplug in any meaningful way.

Other tech firms’ AI-powered takes on the outdoors are equally baffling. An ad released by Meta last month starts with one friend in a group chat enticing the others to camp by sharing an AI-generated image of someone cowboy camping next to an unattended campfire, a fully set-up tent with only a lantern inside of it, and, inexplicably, a folding table with what looks like either several copper pots or maybe a moonshiner’s still on it. Setting aside the safety issues, I can’t help but wonder what kind of person finds more inspiration to get outside in a fake-ass AI-generated image than in the hundreds of thousands of real outdoor photos plastered across the internet.

We Can Still Embrace Technology

I’m not a Luddite. I plan every trip I take on Gaia, Outside’s mapping app, and I listen to podcasts on long solo hikes. Backpacker and Outside’s other titles feature Scout, an AI search engine we trained on our own work in order to help readers more easily find the human-written information they’re looking for; we’ve even experimented with letting Scout choose a hike for us. I also recognize I’m not unbiased: My fellow Backpacker editors, writers, and I make our living creating carefully researched guides and stories for people who love the outdoors. Seeing Google redigest those into AI pablum just so it can make ad money off the backs of the real-life hikers doing the real-life work is frustrating.

Ultimately, the outdoors should be for everyone, and how you choose to get outside is up to you. If that means asking Google or Meta’s AI to walk you through it, so be it. But think about what you want to get out of your time in the woods: There are some things in life that are better without Big Tech breathing down your neck. If you want to polish your outdoor skills, there’s a whole constellation of people who will help you without harvesting all of your personal data, from your more experienced friends to local trail clubs to, yes, even the human experts here at Backpacker. And if you’re ever struggling to set up your tent, a free tip: Start by reading the instructions, and practice before your kid is watching.

[warmglowofsurvival]

Twenty One Pilots’ Josh Dun Builds His Dream Studio, Part 2

Drums rule inside the Boom Boom Room, the new home facility of Twenty One Pilots drummer Josh Dun and his wife, voice artist Debby Ryan.

By: Steve Harvey

Ever since its 2015 breakthrough album Blurryface, Twenty One Pilots has been flying high with a string of platinum-selling albums and worldwide arena tours. There’s no knowing when the creative urge will strike, however, so both drummer Josh Dun and lead vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Tyler Joseph have home studios. Don’t pass up Part 1, which explores how Dun worked with Charlie Griffey of Griffey Remodeling, Josh Dun, TJ Bechill of NEAT Audio, and Gavin Haverstick of Haverstick Designs to create his ideal home facility, The Boom Boom Room; now let’s dive into how he puts the studio to good use.

SETTING UP TO RECORD

“Tyler and Josh don’t work with engineers; they work by themselves,” Bechill observes, noting that during his technical design process, he likes to understand an artist’s workflow and what tools they need. “I always build around the concept of the artist being able to walk into a room and ‘put pen to paper’ as quickly as possible.”

Bechill quizzed Dun about the favorite drum tones he had recorded in his favorite rooms before deciding what gear to load into the control room’s Dangerfox desk. “A lot of them featured vintage Neve consoles,” he recalls. “Josh has API and Audient pre’s in his studio in California, and he said, ‘I want transparency, but I also love the vintage vibe of a Neve console and the glue that you get from the transformers.’”

The desk’s lefthand bay houses two Rupert Neve Designs 500 Series racks holding 14 of the manufacturer’s 511 mic pre modules, with variable Silk control. “The Coles 4038 overhead mics go into a pair of 517 preamps, into 1176s and then into the converters,” he adds.

Mike Picotte, senior sales engineer, artist relations at Sweetwater, also consulted on gear choices, then tuned the control room with Smaart and optimized the DSP on the room’s PMC 6-2 main monitors. “PMC checked all the boxes and has been an incredible system,” Bechill says. “We don’t really mix in there, but we wanted an accurate reference. You can do multiple EQ settings, so we created two zones—one for the mix position and a second for the couch, if friends come in to listen to music.”

Picotte also dialed in the drum sounds. “After 15 minutes, Mike leans back and says, ‘Well, there you go,’” Bechill recalls. “There’s no processing on the tracks; it’s just a great room, great microphones, and solid preamps and conversion, so we saved it as a template. We’ve got a Furman sequencer, so now Josh walks in, turns one key and the whole studio turns on. Within seconds, he can press Record and sit down and play.”

Sweetwater sales engineer Patrick Cobley supplied much of the equipment and, with NEAT sales engineer John Krempel, helped assemble the control room during the two-day installation. Ryan’s brother, Chase, who works on the video side, designed the audio patchbay. “I love having a normalized patchbay where I don’t have to use cables if I don’t need to,” Bechill comments.

Speaking of patching, Bechill installed a dedicated Rupert Neve Designs Shelford Channel for Ryan’s voice work so that she didn’t have to disturb Dun’s signal flow. “She’s an absolute professional, but I wanted a channel strip so we could give her dynamic control in case she got too animated or too close to the mic. I really like the FET-style compressor in the Shelford, and I’ve always loved 1073-esque tones.”

Haverstick included a small vocal booth in the studio layout, which doubles as an amp closet for visiting guitarists, but Ryan can also take a shotgun or a lav mic into the live room: “She can do ADR in that room if her producers don’t want a completely sterile vocal booth environment.”

TRACKING DRUMS

The tracking space, a room-within-a-room design, looks out onto the woods surrounding the house and features a floating floor. Although Dun has tracked in big rooms like EastWest in Hollywood, Haverstick says, “He wanted a controlled but not too dead-sounding live room, because Twenty One Pilots do get more of a controlled sound on their drums.”

And what about those drums? Dun wanted something special for his home studio setup, so Mike Ciprari, owner of SJC Custom Drums, his longtime supplier, ran with Dun’s treehouse concept (he proposed to Ryan in a treehouse in New Zealand). The all-wood kit, with moss and leafy accents, uniquely features a completely wooden front head on the kick drum. “No joke, it actually sounds pretty solid; I was shocked,” Bechill laughs.

Bechill’s idea was to mike the drums using just two or three stands, making the most of the design flexibility and weight capacity of Triad-Orbit’s products. An Audix D6 and a Solomon Mics LoFReQ hang off one stand, he reports, with multiple Sennheiser MD 421 tom mics hanging off another. “If you were to try to do that with any other stand, it would just tip over,” he comments. “I spent $1,500 on three mic stands, but we had committed so heavily to an aesthetic that I wanted them.” The Coles overhead mics are supported by two ceiling-mounted boom arms.

During construction, after Dun mused about what his drums might sound like in the 20-foot-high sunroom, Bechill had Griffey install a four-inch conduit so that he could run a Whirlwind 24-channel snake to a stagebox upstairs. “John [Kremple] did all the wiring with me, and it took us four hours just to get the W2 mass connect from the second floor down to the studio. I don’t know if Josh will ever actually track up there, and, if he does, if it’ll ever be used—but for some reason, in the moment, it felt like the most important thing,” he chuckles. “After that, everything else was easy.”

It seems likely that Twenty One Pilots fans will hear the results of all that hard work soon enough. Previously, while Joseph could work in his own studios, Dun had to go to a commercial room to track his drums. Now, Bechill says, “Between this studio and Tyler’s two studios, we can track and mix in these rooms—although I believe they’ll still send their sessions out to be mixed—because we have the proper environments.”

[rosielovemore]

Broom Manufacturing

Ugh, I’m getting a little bored talking only about the school, don’t me wrong the school isn’t boring but I’m running out of steam. So, to take a break, here’s my notes when I went down a rabbit hole on broom racing.

🔮 Broom Base: Personalities and Customization 🔮

Just like wands, the base of a broom carries its own unique personality. From wood to stone, metal to porcelain, and even masonry, brooms come in various materials, each influencing their character. Handles may be customized with cloth or rubber wrappings for a sturdy grip, while shapes and grips can be tailored to your liking. The broom base sets the stage for its dramatic or sensitive temperament, akin to the engines of cars. Plus, a varnished finish protects them from moisture damage and keeps them in top shape.

⚙️ Broom Metalwork: Durability and Endurance ⚙️

The metalwork of a broom determines its sturdiness and endurance. Racing brooms are crafted with the strongest and lightest metals available, ensuring optimal performance. Unlike wands, metalwork doesn't affect a broom's personality but enhances its ability to withstand rigorous flying conditions.

🧹 Broom Bristles: Aerodynamancy and Personality 🧹

The bristles of a broom play a crucial role in its aerodynamic properties and personality. Different materials and textures contribute to the broom's character. For instance, wheat stalks may result in a stubborn broom, while unicorn tail hair produces a more agreeable companion. The cut of the bristles influences top speed, making it a key factor in broom selection.

🔧 Broom Modifications: Runes and Special Add-ons 🔧

Broom modifications often involve intricately carved runes and special add-ons. Runes enhance existing charms and enchantments, while add-ons serve both functional and decorative purposes. Professional wizards meticulously carve these runes to optimize broom performance, similar to the inner mechanics of a car. These additions contribute to the uniqueness and personalized touch of each broom.

💫 Broom Ornaments: Beauty and Functionality 💫

While racing brooms tend to steer clear of excessive ornamentation, there is a community of broom enthusiasts who enjoy highly decorated and fast brooms. However, these decorative models are discouraged in official broom racing. An exception lies with the unofficial and thrilling Breeze races, where highly decorated, fast brooms compete. These races embody the spirit of Fizzle street races—unofficial, dangerous, and often illegal, especially in Fizzle areas.

🌟 Broom Enchantments: Enhancing the Ride 🌟

Broomsticks are adorned with enchantments that enhance the riding and flying experience. Initially, simple spells such as invisible seats were common, but over time, enchantments evolved into more complex forms. Imagine temporary speed boosts or convenient arrival at your side with a mere call. Different broom models even have unique charms exclusive to their design, adding an extra touch of magic to the experience.

Brooms

The "Witch's Broom" was made so that people of the wizarding world could easily fly through the sky, almost unseen, and get to their destinations in a timely manner. However, due to the past, the Witch’s broom is very often associated with wixcraft in the unmagical world. However, this has not stopped the broom companies from continuing to make more and try to outdo each other. In order to control the broom flying through the sky and draw out its maximum flight ability, control of the rider's balance was of utmost importance. In more modern times, the broom is treated more as the wizarding version of a race car than say a bicycle.

Brooms are similiar to cars in the fizzle world, because they can be dangerous when crashed, require a license to fly (which can be gotten through the school elective flying), but are very fun and freeing to fly. There are even brooms made specifically for racing.

So without further ado, here are some of my favorite broom models. And why:

🌾 Meadow Breeze 🌾

The Meadow Breeze was a broomstick designed for family use. It was simply safe and reliable. It came with a built-in theft alarm and an optional extending cushioning charm for multiple passengers.

Their bristles tend to be soft for safety and the handles are very well smoothed. These are the slowest brooms on the market, however they are beloved by all families.

🐞 June Bug 🐞

These were in the days of the cottage industry. The broom had a thick handle and sturdy metal work which was designed for endurance. Meant to withstand high wind conditions.

It has a soft rounded shape to its handle which makes it highly attractive for witches, but rather slow. It is comparable to a vintage VW Beetle in top acceleration.

These are mostly owned by vintage collectors or witches of all ages who like to decorate it with flowers and generally cutesy accessories.

🌠 Wishing Star 🌠

The first racing broom, it cornered and dove like no other broom in existence at the time.

Many of these are considered vintage racing brooms and can often be seen in windows of restoration shops, looking good as almost new.

☁️ Sky Dancer ☁️

The Sky Dancer broom was equipped with an anti-meddling varnish and a built-in wobble ward charm. It could accelerate from zero to sixty miles per hour in 6-7 seconds.

These are also out of style as racing brooms, however they are kept on the market and were rebranded to luxury brooms, fitted with a more plush cushioning charm.

🎀 Show Stopper 🎀

It was the first broom to incorporate a Braking Charm, which would mean riders would be less likely to overshoot their destinations.

These were highly decorated luxury brooms. As the name implies they were for the rich to show off their wealth and often came with various cosmetic charms as opposed to speed ones.

🍃 Swept Away 🍃

It can do zero to sixty miles per hour in 7 seconds, with a decent tailwind. Otherwise it’s closer to 10 seconds.

These have a spiraled broom handle as well as an attractive curled bristle shape, which flattens out to catch the wind when it’s in a tailwind allowing for the extra speed boost.

🌪️ Storm Chaser 🌪️

The perfect middle ground broom. It has a zero to sixty of 4-5 seconds, making it fast but not too fast.

It comes with a storm trail charm that is semi-customizable. The customer can choose from rain, lightning, snow, or fog as a trail for their broom.

✨ Fairy Catcher ✨

The direct competitor to the storm chaser. It can sometimes outspeed them but they are generally a competitive match.

This comes with a semi-customizable trail charm as well as a softer cushioning charm. The trail options are petals, colorful leaves, butterflies, or snowflakes.

⚡ Alacris Airforce ⚡

Named after the fastest breed of pegasus, this broom is the casual racer’s best friend as it can hit zero to sixty in 2.5 on a windy day to 3.5 seconds. Making it not the fastest but not the slowest.

This broom comes with a holographic hovering charm that displays the broom company's logo when it’s close enough to the ground or a cloud to do so.

🌈 Spectrum Charger 🌈

The best competitor to the Alacris Airforce. It reaches a zero to sixty in about that same time, however this broom has a thicker and squared handle making it more durable.

This broom comes with a nightlight charm. Which isn’t as useful as it sounds because it simply shines the magical equivalent of decorative rgb lighting through the bristles and length of the broom.

🌟 Stargazer 🌟

Designed with a slim handle and the ability to fly higher than any other broom and still remain controllable.

These were often decorated with stars and moons. They weren’t the fastest but within a tailwind they could almost catch up to a Spectrum Charger, almost.

🌙 Moonjumper 🌙

The Moonjumper was capable of going from zero to sixty miles per hour in 2 seconds. This broomstick also boasted an unbeatable braking charm and could fly itself to its owner when they said the magic word.

It also was varnished to not resist going through clouds as much as the moisture could often slow down the broom if it’s wood.

☀️ Sunny Rise ☀️

At the time of its release, it was the fastest broomstick in production. It easily hit zero to sixty in 1.7 seconds, being barely above the Sunset Fall.

This broom was varnished in a color changing effect that mimics the rise of the sun in the morning. It also comes with an optional ‘lucky charm’ decoration.

🌅 Sunset Fall 🌅

The Sunset Fall was a revolutionary design, capable of higher top speeds and the ability to turn 360 degrees in mid-air on a fixed spot.

The handle was varnished in a subtle color changing effect that mimics the fall of the sunset. It was also enchanted with an anti-rollover charm that helped the rider not fall off as easily when spinning or doing tricks.

💨 Aeromancer’s Magic 💨

It has the most aerodynamic bristle shape of all racing brooms on the market. The broom itself boasted a zero to sixty in 1.5 seconds flat.

Each broom is made by hand by a large team of wizards, instead of by runic automation that mass produces them at a faster pace.

It also comes in a luxury option that is slower, having a zero to sixty of 3.2 seconds, but can be highly customized for personal luxury.

🌌 Upwind Breeze 🌌

The broom itself boasts a zero to sixty in 1.3 seconds flat. The fastest broom on the market.

It actually takes inspiration from the Meadow Breeze model but makes it much more sleek and modern.

It comes equipped with the first ever nitrous-like charm, which briefly strongly boosts its speed when the magic word is said and leaves a thin solid trail of clouds in the sky. This must be used sparingly to avoid over charging the broom.

💎 Diamondback 💎

The Diamondback was found to warp and wobble at its top speeds. It also included several gimmicks and cosmetics, including an inbuilt broom call (which is like a car horn) and a sparkler charm (which caused a trail of sparkles to be left in the trail of the broom), and gained a reputation as a broom flown by those with more money than sense.

It boasted the most luxurious plush cushioning charm as well as diamond studded bristles and 24 karat gold metalworking. Which, is true but makes the broom way overpriced for the other features it advertises and does not meet.

[chocoblep]

#3: Funny Ideas

A diminutive Raen man stood at a drafting desk, mulling over his latest design. He wasn’t quite sure that it would work, but by the Kami, he wanted to try it. Who knew; if this took off, people everywhere could be spending less time scrubbing at dirty walls and stone paths! The design called for a machine that strapped over one’s shoulder and employed a water crystal to pump out enough water at a time to pressurize it through a nozzle. No more tossing buckets of water on the side of a muddy carriage and watching in disappointment as it did almost nothing! No more back-breaking stunts to reach high spots on a wall!

That was Jin’s problem, of course, but he imagined many other vertically challenged people felt the same way that he did when he had to do his bi-yearly scrub down.

Anyway, no more wasting soap, and no more having to make multiple trips to a water pump to renew the source of clean water! And just the other day, he’d met a nice Vieran gentleman who had pointed him to an engineer who might be able to help Jin suss out the pitfalls and concerns about the design. Was it going to work? Was manufacturing feasible? He wouldn’t sell a product that he wouldn’t be able to use himself, so he’d gotten in contact with the engineer in question and invited them over to take a look at it with the promise of compensation for their time.

He was not prepared for the red-headed, long-eared ball of Vieran sunshine that walked through the door. She looked so young that at first he thought she was the wrong person, but when she grinned at him and gave him a wave, he had to admit that maybe he’d made a mistake in entertaining that random Viera’s recommendation.

“Hi! I’m Lydi!” she chirped, striding up to where he stood in his shed. “You are Mister Akiyama?”

Ah, the Western introduction. He put on a smile and wiped the charcoal that had stained the heel of his hand on his trousers before holding it out for her to shake. “That I am! Are you the engineer I am expecting?”

“The very same!” she replied enthusiastically, all but wrenching his arm as she gripped and shook it like a dog thrashing its head vertically with a chew toy. “I was told that you had a design for a new invention and wanted a second opinion.”

“You were told correctly,” he replied, and then flexed his fingers when she let his hand go. “I am working on something I am going to call… well, I’m still working on the name, but it’s a machine that you can carry around and use to wash things using only water pressure.”

Lydi looked thoughtful for a moment, but then nodded. “That would be very useful, probably. I wonder if you could pressurize it enough to strip paint from wood…” she mused, and then smiled that megawatt smile. “Do you have a schematic drawn up?”

He hadn’t thought about stripping paint, but he supposed with enough pressure he could do that. After all, that was how one got diamonds, right? Or was he remembering something else? He blinked out of his thoughts and waved for her to follow him. “Right here,” he said, motioning to the smudged drawing.

Lydi leaned over the drafting table, a full head taller than Jin was, and traced her fingers along the lines as if she could memorize their curves by touch. It was almost captivating; she showed that scrap of parchment so much care that by the time she turned her eyes to Jin he had his chest puffed out with pride.

“Well, you called the right gal, because I happen to develop my own guns, and this right here,” she said, tapping the pad of her index finger on the sketch, “is a water gun! How clever of you to use aether crystals in place of a reservoir, though; that will take away some of the weight, especially if you want to keep the rest of it light.”

“Yes, I am a bit stumped on materials,” he admitted, “and I mainly wanted to see at this stage if there are any major design flaws that I should be correcting before I look into making a crude version for testing.”

“What is your fuel source?” she asked.

“I was thinking of using ceruleum.”

Lydi made a face. “No, you’d need a reservoir for that and that would get heavy very quickly. You want this to be portable, right? I think… You’re using a water crystal. It looks like this design calls for a combustion reaction to activate and direct it, which has a lot of ways it could go wrong. It could overheat, explode, leak, or just plain not work, since you’re mixing fire and water. I have a suggestion, but I’m not certain how feasible it is. You would have to ask an enchanter or mage about it.”

Jin blinked. How old was this girl? She actually sounded like she knew what she was talking about, which surprised him, but not as much as what she said next.

“What if you used an aether pack? The Machinists in Ishgard use them for their charged shots, and it would be easy enough to connect it to the machine and turn a dial to dictate how much aether you want to use. Funnel it in and through the crystal, and the water should flow… theoretically… You’d want some sort of tip on the nozzle that has multiple pressure settings; the smaller the hole, the more pressure it uses. Also, you’ll want to make sure the barrel is flexible, so that you don’t have to turn the entire machine or twist weirdly to reach a spot. Like… a hose between two metal tubes or something.”

Jin smacked his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? I was so caught up trying to think of how the layman could operate this that I completely forgot that Ishgard had partially solved that problem! Oh, I could kiss you! This was what I needed!”

Lydi just grinned, tapping the schematics with two fingers in a spot. “This would allow you to cut down on a lot of bulk here, make it lighter to carry. The only things you need to replace would be recharged aether packs and water crystals. Man, I wanna make one now.”

Jin looked up to Lydi, his lips stretching into a smile. “You do, do you? Well, it just so happens I’m in the market for a development partner for this project. I can’t pay you, but I could split whatever we make from it at a fair rate.”

Lydi stared at him. “Oh. OH! Yes, I’d love to! And if it doesn’t work? It was a cool experience trying to figure it out!” She slapped the design with the flat of her palm. “Water gun, here we come!”

He couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips at her enthusiasm. “We’re not calling it ‘Water Gun.’”

Lydi turned her eyes to him, the sparkle of mischief in her grass-green eyes. “How about… It’s right there at the tip of my brain…” She took a moment to think. “Oh! The Exter-mire-nator?”

He blinked… and then started laughing. “The Clean Cannon!” he shot back, and the ooh’d at his suggestion.

“Dirt Douser?”

“That’s terrible!”

“Scum Sprayer?”

“Worse!”

“How about the Muck Fuc–”

“NO!” He cut her off, clapping a hand over her mouth. “We are not calling it that. We are never calling it that.”

There was a moment of silence. He pulled his hand away, and then murmured, “Muck Fucker… honestly,” and shook his head in dismay.

They both looked at each other, and then started laughing again, and soon enough they were shooting progressively worse names back and forth before they finally agreed to call it the Muck Fucker–but only while it was in development.

[superkilometerfilter]

Car Tuning – An Ultimate Guide

Nowadays car tuning has gained popularity among automotive enthusiasts. This is not surprising, in the era of modern technology, people are constantly craving for reaching the highest level of performance in every aspect of life. Hence, the automotive industry is not an exception. From the very first moment of car invention, it was a subject of modification. Here comes auto tuning –one of the most favorite topics for discussion. It is more than just maintenance, it implies all kinds of enhancement starting from the visual change to the engine boosting. You may wonder why I need it? The simple response is that the manufacturers tend to limit the capabilities of your automobile. They aim to find the balance and somehow insure themselves because unlocking the full potential of vehicles may be an inefficient decision. 

So let’s take a closer look at what it means in a wide sense and learn more about its types. Keep on reading to learn everything you need to know if you think about boosting your automobile.

WHAT IS CAR TUNING?

Tuning auto is known as a wide range of vehicle modifications. It incorporates various kinds of changes to provide improved performance, functionality and better visual effect. It can be understood in many ways. However, the aim is the same – to improve automobile capabilities. There are certain areas of modification including audio system, interior, motor, suspension, body, tires and brakes. Below I will provide you with a comprehensive explanation of every one of them.

WAYS TO UPGRADE YOUR AUTO IN AND OUT

Let’s start with visual improvement. Personalizing an automobile is always a subject of excitement among motorists. Does this sound like you? I’m sure it does. We all share this feeling. Improving the aesthetics is very tempting for all. For some people, it’s a kind of obsession. When it comes to visual upgrading, it is easier to take control of the situation if you are one of those DIYers. Here are two areas where you can transform your automobile.

Body

Transforming your vehicle exterior is a big move, so you should carefully consider every detail. You need to bear in mind, the aim is to improve the exterior significantly. Hence, you should find the proper body kit that is a set of modified parts or additional components for the car. It contains front and rear bumpers, side skirts, spoilers, bonnets (bonnet scoop), sometimes roof and side scoops. There is a wide range of companies that offer this hardware. Firstly, find the one that works for you. Do not hesitate to search for photos that are inspiring and buy them. Next, think twice before you start doing it yourself, if you are good at following the instructions here is a step-by-step guide on how to install.

Interior 

Another form of a car tune-up is interior styling. This type of transformation is best-loved among those who love to emphasize individuality. There are several options for personalizing the interior. For example, cockpit improvement, which implies coating plastic with wood or leather. In addition to that, automobile seats and steering wheels are also subject to upgrading. It’s pretty obvious once you think about it, so let me tell you that you don’t need to go to the workshop. Just search for and shop for accessories on internet retail shopping websites at an affordable price.

WHY IS SUSPENSION TUNING NECESSARY?

The Suspension system is what ensures road holding and ride quality. Hence, it supports a comfortable ride. Suspension is a system of tires, tire air, springs, shock absorbers and linkages that connect an automobile to its wheels. The main function of struts and shock absorbers is to control stability. The spring is what holds the car up in the air. Hence, the rocking, bouncing and shaking of an automobile is an indicator that those components need replacement.

 Auto tune-up improves speed and pick up. Hence cars need an enhanced suspension system for better handling on the road. Here comes the necessity and importance of suspension tuning. suspension tuning implies the modification of springs, struts and, shock absorbers to affect how a vehicle accelerates, brakes and corners.

The most common type of suspension tuning is so-called – lowering. The closer an automobile is to the surface, the better you can develop high speed. Lowering is done through springs. Tuning implies shortening the existing springs or replacing them with a new one. 

Believe it or not, an innovative device is for sale at Super Kilometer Filter. It allows you to do suspension tuning independently.

The best DIY tool for suspension tuning

Lowering device is an innovative and user-friendly tool for Mercedes owners. Manufacturers designed specifically for airmatic suspension. You get various benefits from using this tool.it allows lowering and increasing options, improved responsiveness, faster acceleration, quicker stops, less rollover risk. The module also serves a practical purpose, a lowered automobile is comfortable for a person with a disability. The tool offers three different modes: factory, low and custom.

CHIP TUNING 

It is the most popular type of car tuning. ECU is responsible for controlling the fuel supply, airflow, fuel injection and ignition. It implies overwriting the manufacturer’s existing setting with new software. The main benefits that drivers get are improved horsepower and torque, better control and drivability, enhanced rev range. This type of auto tuning is significantly beneficial for diesel cars.

There are recommended programs that support live, 2D and 3D tuning. As a mechanic, all you have to do is search for the one which will be compatible with the automobile. Make sure that you own the laptop that serves you well. 

Despite the above mentioned, here’s another way to think about the issue. Boosted functioning and efficiency can be related to some risks. It is worth considering everything before you make a final decision.

What to consider

Remember, I don’t want you to become the victim of common biases related to tuning auto. how to avoid it? – get comprehensive information and be ready for the possible consequences. there is a list of things to consider before:

Increased maintenance cost. When you enjoy all the benefits from boosting automobiles, you should know that there will be the necessity to replace components such as the ignition coils more often. So consider your budget.

Insurance costs. Besides, consider insurance premiums. This type of tuning can have a potential impact on insurance costs. Trust me, they know that you don’t miss a chance to use the full potential of your automobile. Hence it makes you a high-risk driver.

Forget fuel economy. Don’t believe that fuel efficiency will be possible, you will need high-quality fuel at any rate.

Harmful to the environment. The factory settings provide the lowest emissions and therefore stock automobiles are environmentally friendly. The changes in the manufacturer’s setting may result in increased emissions.

Choose the mechanic. Make sure that everything will be done correctly. Your automobile should be in the hand of a qualified specialist if you want the best possible outcome.

Mind the warranty. If tuning is not approved by the manufacturer, you should expect to void the warranty. Let’s be realistic, you change the factory settings, so they refuse to take responsibility for the safety and reliability. 

CAR TUNE-UP IS FINISHED – WHAT’S NEXT?

So, you have a tuned automobile. It would be interesting if you could test it and see the results. However, something holds you back. I guess it is a danger of adding miles on your odometer. What if, I can tell you that testing is possible without the risk of adding mileage on your automobile. For this purpose manufacturers designed a special tool. It allows you to carefully examine all the benefits you get from tuning. This device is known as a mileage blocker.

Mileage blocker

This extraordinary and premium quality product from Germany is specially for stopping the mileage recording process from all control units untraceably. This is a user-friendly module that is easily installed behind the dashboard. The tool is superior to its counterfeits. Mileage blocker is available online and you can purchase mileage blocker from superkilometerfilter. Consider avoiding illegal usage, some people use it for deceiving potential buyers. Remember, it is only created for testing and tuning purposes. In case of any further questions, please feel free to contact us anytime.

CONCLUSION

Now you have read through the blog and you know what is auto tune-up, why it is beneficial, what to consider and how much you risk. By now you have realized that it is a very controversial topic, but the good news is that you can weigh all options and think twice before you make a final decision. There are some areas where you don’t need careful examination of every detail. For instance, interior refinement of your automobile, it just takes your creativity and budget. As for internal changes, it is worth discussing and exchanging opinions. All in all, it’s up to you. Good luck!

[a-mole-of-iron]

Duchowiesen stories: Liftoff

Alright, so, update. Due to diminishing resources and abilities, I was unable to post anything for a while - and now, I’ll be starting to publish a series of very unpretentious short stories in the urban fantasy genre. And I don’t mean modern-day real-world with fantasy trappings; I mean a fantasy world with big cities and elaborate technology. There will be train journeys through magic forests, and visits to taverns with televisions and telephones placed therein; bureaucrats cataloguing ancient relics, and dragons doing aerial photography; elaborate underground cities lit by electric lanterns and overgrown by moss and mushrooms, and mystical deserts with towns raised on concrete pillars above the shifting dunes; welfare provisions for werebeasts and changelings, and vast industries supplying the people with affordable goods; and more besides, all in the setting that me and my friends have developed together.

Without further ado, I present to you: the fantasy world of Duchowiesen, and all of its many unusual and wonderful things, places, and people.

Story genre: comfy urban fantasy

Liftoff

At the Electric Lamplight Inn, it was an hour past lunchtime. The sun crept across the wooden tables covered with checkered tablecloth, with colorful mass-manufacture metal-and-cloth dining chairs around them and salt and pepper shakers with folded-up napkins close by on every table, along the bar and its selection of bottles of varying colors, shapes, and sizes that held alcohol as well as soft drinks, up the wooden beams that helped hold up the second floor, over the walls covered by vanilla-colored plaster and decorated with landscape photographs of meadows, mountains, boreal woods, and glaciers, and towards the clock and the nearby refrigerator with its curved outer surfaces and a glass door displaying cold foods and drinks. The barkeep was absent, and only a couple of people were there, eating their mid-day meal a little late. A big beast-folk guy with striped grey fur, wearing a jacket loaded up with carpentry tools and overalls that seemed sturdy as a cliff face, was treating himself to a good serving of meat and potatoes the inn sourced from the local farmer's market; two businesswomen in rumpled suits discussed trade as they helped themselves to fish with rice that they've systematically drowned in lots and lots of tartar sauce, and an occultist professional from the Southern Lands, with his hawk-like features alongside a fancy coat and pants covered in rune embroidery, was eating alone - or so it seemed if you didn't notice him having a one-sided conversation while looking into a mirror he had standing on his dinner table. The television standing next to one of the walls was set on mute, and even if it wasn't, at the moment it was displaying "The Wondrous World of Duchowiesen Dragons" - one of the most boring offerings among all the niche-subject documentary shows available on TV across the entire Federation, which was saying a lot. The time dragged out a little, flowing like a calm river - but then, another prospective patron walked through the door, a diminutive kobold engineer with their bright green scales and hemispheric sunglasses on their wide, gecko-like face, who was for some reason also wearing a labcoat far outside of any lab.

The kobold walked up to the bar, perched the sunglasses on their forehead, and said: "Excuse me, innkeeper? INNKEEPER?" in their high-pitched voice.

The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman wearing somewhat outdated and yet eternally cool clothing from the jazz era - a flapper look adapted for the everydays of the modern age - walked out to the bar to meet them. "Hello there. Would you like to order a full lunch, or book lodgings?" she asked.

"Neither, actually." the kobold answered. "I just want two deli sandwiches, a glass of mineral water, and a TV broadcast."

"Broadcast...?" the innkeeper asked, somewhat confused.

"Yes!" the kobold squeaked. "Could you tune your particle accelerator... sorry, TV set, to Science Channel One? Yours was the only place in town with a TV I could find on short notice!"

"Alright then." the innkeeper said.

She turned the dial on the wired TV controller, and the picture changed to show a sunlit desert, and in the midst of its sands, the Cosmodrome launch site with a rocket set up on the launch pad. The sound went back on, and the people eating dinner turned their heads to the TV, as they heard the ever so slightly portentous announcer read the text. The announcer went: "...seems that all of the pre-launch checks have been cleared, and the computers monitoring the site all read green. And now we're being told, the Cosmodrome is ready for launch, T-minus five minutes."

"Hey, what's with the broadcast? Is this live?" one of the businesswomen asked the kobold.

"Yes, it is live!" the kobold said. "They're putting the first-ever photo camera into orbit with this rocket! To think we're going to have all-encompassing pictures of the World at last!"

"Now I'm interested." the occultist said, still looking into the mirror on his table. "Sorry, my friend, we'll have to continue another time. What? Okay, that's good in my books. Bye." He folded the mirror's stand, closed up the small decorated shutters over it, and turned around to look at the television as well.

The voice behind the broadcast kept on talking. In the deadpan shared only by the most composed of Railway Commanders and emergency broadcasters, she said: "I am being informed the rocket's fuel pumps are completing their warm-up cycle, and the Skyguard shields with their EM plus Flux ward properties are ready to go. In a minute, we should have the hand-over of controls and telemetry to the radio channels..."

The people in the inn were interested but slightly flabbergasted; none of them really understood the technical terms involved, even as the announcer explained the rocket's systems in more detail. The kobold engineer was geeking out, however, their eyes transfixed by the picture on the screen. Minutes tensed like the strings of a violin as the launch approached, and finally, the announcer has proclaimed: "And now, we have the clearance for launch. T-minus ten... nine... eight... seven... main engines ignition... five... four... three... two... one!"

The broadcast picture showed plumes of steam, and then fire, blast from the lowest stage of the rocket, and just like that, it started ascending, leaving behind the launch tower with its cabling and pipes. "We have liftoff!" the announcer called, the broadcast switching to another camera that showed the rocket blast off into the sky, and disappear into the clear blue above the desert lands surrounding the Cosmodrome.

The kobold engineer looked at the broadcast as the announcer started describing the photography satellite the rocket was loaded with, then slammed their cutesy hands on the table and yelled: "That... WAS SO COOL!" Everyone else around them was in agreement, even though they weren't the same level of enthusiastic. The occultist looked at the screen with an unspoken wisdom, thinking about the sheer possibilities for new esoteric understanding that a view perch to see the entire world could open. The businesswomen wondered just how the world would change once the satellites get flying in earnest. The beast-folk carpenter was impressed by the engineering involved; many orders of complexity above what he did, but hey, he knew an impressive build when he saw one. Even the innkeeper was interested; the whole scene was dramatic and inspiring, and stirred emotions in all who were there to see it. Finally, the kobold picked up their deli sandwich and started chewing on it. One of the businesswomen asked them:

"Hey, you said you were looking for a TV. Are you just passing through like we are?"

"Yes, but I might become a regular commuter here, it seems!" the kobold replied. "I'm doing engineer consulting around the region."

"Odd! We're kind of in the same boat; our firm sells machinery parts all around the Four Cities area!" the other businesswoman said. "Mechanismus-Magiker GmbH, at your service."

"What about you, friend?" the kobold asked the beast-folk carpenter.

"Well, I'm on my way to the Inland Sea for the weekend." he said. "Funny you are from Mechanismus-Magiker." he said to the businesswomen. "I did renovations in one of your company's trade offices just a month ago."

"Oooh..." the occultist said, turning towards the others with an enigmatic smile. "Serendipity."

"Very much serendipity!" the kobold engineer noted with a goofy grin. "Who knows, maybe this is a sign that we should be here for the next rocket launch!"

"When is that?" the occultist asked, laying a pocketbook of solar and lunar calendars on the table.

"In 16 days, 8 PM for our current timezone." the kobold replied. "They're going to launch a radio amplifier satellite next!"

The occultist looked through the book, then smiled enigmatically again and said: "I have not found anything major, but... perhaps something interesting will happen if we join again at that day and hour. Who's with me to try and test this... small hypothesis?" There were a few seconds of indecisive silence, and then, one after the other, everyone else present responded with a variation of "I'm in!"

[dbeautify2017]

Ceiling Lamp Round with bulb

Transform your home into a haven of elegance and style with our exquisite engineered wood ceiling lamp round lamps . This lotus-inspired pendant light fixture offers a classy and antique look, perfect for those who appreciate aesthetic home decor. Crafted from high-quality engineered wood.

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] Product Description With the addition of the Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with a Shelf, you can turn your living area into a warm. This lamp is constructed out of ty wood and contains a handy shelf that provides adequate room for all your favorite things to store. Additionally, it is built to endure. Therefore, take a seat, loosen yourself, and bask in the warm and welcoming light of this attractive and useful item. The Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with Shelf is meticulously handmade from the finest wood, that each item is one of a kind and the greatest possible quality. The stands are manufactured and designed using grade engineered wood to give your home a more appealing look. Any space can be made to seem homier and inviting with the addition of this lamp, which has a warm and appealing wooden finish. There is a built-in shelf to add extra space and keep several items handy. This makes the lamp more useful and transforms it into a fashionable display unit that is excellent for showing the things that are most important to you. You can personalize the illumination according to your preferences thanks to the adjustable lamp head, which enables you to direct the light exactly where you want it the most. Take your interior design to the next level with the multifunctional Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with Shelf. It provides a comforting and appealing light and has a shelf made of durable wood that can be used to store things like books, plants, and other necessities. Crosscut Wooden Bed Side Table Lamp in Natural Finish brings a touch of nature to your bedroom. Light up your room and give bedtime a cozy feel with this gorgeous lamp made from wood. With the sophisticated design and soft light, give your space the ambience it deserves. The LED light source employed in the Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with Shelf is cost effective. The longevity of the Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with Shelf is ensured by the use of material throughout its production. Because it is simple to set up and use, the Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with Shelf is a practical option for those who want a fashionable and effective lighting solution.

Whether you're looking for a warm and inviting light source for your home, office, or other space, the Crosscut Furniture Wooden Floor Lamp with Shelf is an ideal choice. Decorative Wooden floor lamp light with three wooden shelves, and multipurpose lamp stand, Best for gifting Crafted from strong and premium European plywood with an A++ energy rating. Designed and crafted in India Modern and minimalist design: Clean lines and timeless aesthetics complement various decor styles. Decorative floor lamp is used to display Planters, Books and other creative articles for multipurpose use. B22-type LED bulb is included with the box. Packed in compact box with all fittings and manual (Best for Gifting) 12-month exclusive replacement warranty from Crosscut. We assure quality and after-service (Beware of copy desings) [ad_2]

[dreamhomediaries01]

Dining Chair Warranties: Do Higher Prices Mean Better Coverage?

When purchasing dining chairs, many shoppers focus on the style, material, and overall look of the furniture. However, one crucial aspect of buying a dining chair often gets overlooked: the warranty. While warranties can vary widely depending on the manufacturer and price range, understanding the connection between price and warranty coverage is essential for making an informed decision. Do higher-priced dining chairs generally come with better warranties, or are there affordable options that provide equally good protection? In this article, we will dive into the factors that determine the value of dining chair warranties, helping you determine if you’re truly getting the coverage you need when you invest in higher-end options.

1. The Basics of Dining Chair Warranties

Before exploring whether higher prices correlate with better warranties, it’s important to understand what a typical warranty for dining chairs covers. Warranties are essentially promises made by the manufacturer that they will repair or replace the product if it fails under certain conditions. The specifics of what is covered can vary greatly from brand to brand, but here are some common elements:

Material and Fabric: Many dining chair warranties cover defects in materials and fabrics, which can include anything from the wood cracking to upholstery wear.

Structural Integrity: A warranty might cover any structural issues like broken joints or failure of the frame.

Finish and Color: Warranties might include coverage for fading or peeling of the finish, especially for wooden chairs.

Mechanical Parts: Some dining chairs have adjustable features or additional mechanisms (e.g., swivel chairs), which might be covered if they malfunction.

2. Does Price Affect Warranty Coverage?

One of the common assumptions when it comes to warranties is that higher-priced items come with more comprehensive coverage. This logic suggests that more expensive chairs should offer longer warranties and more extensive protection against defects. However, while this can sometimes be true, it’s not always the case. Let's explore how price and warranty coverage are related.

Higher-Priced Dining Chairs and Extended Warranties

In many cases, higher-priced dining chairs tend to come with longer and more comprehensive warranties. This is especially true for premium brands and high-end materials. For example, a designer dining chair made from solid wood or high-end materials like leather often comes with a warranty that spans several years. Some manufacturers of high-end dining chairs may offer warranties that range from 5 to 10 years, covering the frame, upholstery, and other critical components.

For instance, a chair priced around $500 or more may have a warranty that covers material defects for 5 years or longer. The reasoning behind this is that manufacturers of high-end furniture want to show confidence in the durability of their product and ensure customer satisfaction.

Affordable Dining Chairs and Shorter Warranties

On the flip side, budget-friendly dining chairs typically come with shorter warranty periods, sometimes as little as 1 to 3 years. This isn’t necessarily a reflection of the chair’s overall quality but rather a business decision. Lower-priced chairs are often made using less expensive materials, such as engineered wood or synthetic fabrics, and their construction may be more straightforward. As a result, manufacturers might offer a shorter warranty because they expect these chairs to have a shorter lifespan.

However, it’s important to note that shorter warranties don’t automatically mean that the chairs are of poor quality. Many budget-friendly dining chairs are well-made and designed to last for several years, even with a shorter warranty. The key is to assess the chair’s quality based on reviews, materials, and construction rather than simply the length of the warranty.

3. What to Look for in a Dining Chair Warranty

Regardless of whether you are purchasing an expensive or budget-friendly dining chair, it’s important to understand exactly what the warranty covers. Here are a few things to look for when reviewing a warranty:

What Is Covered? Check the warranty to see if it covers all aspects of the chair, including frame, upholstery, and finish. Some warranties only cover defects in material and workmanship, while others might cover issues like fading or cracking as well.

Timeframe: A longer warranty isn’t always better if it’s filled with exclusions. However, a warranty that lasts 3-5 years and offers good coverage can be a solid choice. Consider the type of chair and how much use it will get when evaluating the length of coverage.

Exclusions: Many warranties exclude damage caused by misuse, accidents, or normal wear and tear. Understanding these exclusions can help you avoid unexpected costs if something goes wrong.

Transferability: Some warranties are transferable to new owners, which can increase the chair’s resale value if you decide to sell it later.

4. Other Factors to Consider When Purchasing Dining Chairs

While the warranty is an important factor to consider, price shouldn’t be the only consideration when choosing dining chairs. Here are some other elements that will help you evaluate the true value of your purchase:

Material Quality

The material used in a dining chair can greatly impact its durability. Solid wood chairs tend to last longer and are often more durable than their particle board counterparts, even if both chairs are similarly priced. If you opt for a wood or metal frame, make sure to choose a type that’s known for its durability (such as oak or stainless steel).

Additionally, the fabric or leather upholstery on the chair plays a major role in longevity. High-quality leather or stain-resistant fabrics can endure more wear and tear, especially in busy households.

Construction and Design

Well-constructed chairs are typically worth the investment, as they are less likely to break down over time. Look for chairs that are reinforced with dowels or metal brackets, as these can enhance the structural integrity. Additionally, ensure that the joints are properly secured and that the chair has a solid base.

User Reviews

Checking reviews from previous customers can give you a better sense of how well a dining chair holds up over time, especially when it comes to issues not covered by warranties, such as comfort and general wear.

5. Does Higher Price Always Equal Better Value?

While it’s tempting to think that spending more money will always result in better warranty coverage, the reality is that some high-end chairs may not offer significantly better protection than their more affordable counterparts. Instead, the price often reflects the materials, craftsmanship, and design, rather than just the warranty length.

It’s important to do a little extra research when shopping for dining chairs. Look at product details, read consumer reviews, and pay attention to the overall quality of the chair rather than focusing solely on the price and warranty.

Conclusion

When it comes to purchasing dining chairs, a higher price tag doesn’t always mean better warranty coverage. While it’s true that higher-priced chairs often come with longer or more comprehensive warranties, the overall quality and longevity of the chair depend on factors such as materials, construction, and design. It’s important to evaluate the value of the chair in its entirety—beyond just the warranty—and consider other aspects like comfort, style, and durability.

For those in search of Dining chair prices in United States, Five Star Furniture Store is one of the best places to find affordable dining chairs without sacrificing quality or warranty coverage. Whether you are looking for a classic wooden dining chair or a modern design, Five Star Furniture Store offers a variety of options at the lowest prices, ensuring you get the best value for your money.

[ultrastones]

Green & Gorgeous: Stylish Sustainable Countertops for Modern Kitchens

Sustainability has become a primary consideration for modern homeowners and interior designers. As environmental balance has taken a back seat, people are becoming more aware of the side effects of our dependency on single-use or chemically active materials.

Eco-friendly countertops are a small but effective step towards building a greener planet. Natural stone suppliers are adopting environmentally responsible quarrying processes that consume less energy and produce less waste.

Natural stones

Natural stones, such as granite, marble, travertine, and more, are an organic option for kitchen countertops. Since they are naturally formed within the earth, they do not contain any synthetic material. Some of the semi-precious surfaces, such as amethyst, lapis lazuli, and sodalite are also used for healing purposes. They are non-toxic and suitable for families with children.

Stoneglass

Stoneglass is an engineered material. It is made from natural quartz crystal. Available in various finishes, stoneglass countertops give kitchens a sleek and stylish makeover. They are highly durable, with a dense and non-porous surface that is resistant to staining, and scratching. Easy to clean, this engineered stone is a user-friendly choice for busy spaces.

Bamboo Countertops

Bamboo countertops have been trending lately. They are a renewable alternative to natural stones with minimal environmental impact. Bamboo is used profusely in Japandi settings, as it instills a sense of warmth into any aesthetic. Bamboo countertops are moderately durable. They require sealing to prevent them from external impacts. Furthermore, their beautiful aesthetic brings a rustic vibe to any space. 

Reclaimed Wood

Reclaimed wood countertops have dominated 2024 interior design trends. Reclaimed from barns, old buildings, or boats, reclaimed wood surfaces offer the organic charm of wood while reducing deforestation. Refurbishing old things is a new decor trend that also boosts sustainability. Each vein or swirl of reclaimed wood surfaces tells a story. Moderately durable, this countertop material requires regular maintenance, such as oiling to protect against water damage.

Concrete

Concrete is another versatile and durable countertop material. It is further reinforced with recycled glass or fly ash and other eco-friendly aggregates. These surfaces can be customized into different shades, textures, and finishes, allowing for a tailored look. Concrete countertops are strong and can withstand regular wear and tear. However, they are porous and prone to sealing, requiring timely sealing to protect the stone from staining. 

Quartz

Quartz is an engineered countertop surface. It is also a sustainable material, as it offers the luxury of natural stone with enhanced durability and minimal upkeep requirements. This stone is non-porous and highly dense, offering resistance against staining, scratching, and other external impacts - a perfect surface for busy kitchens. Also, quartz manufacturers are adopting eco-friendly manufacturing practices to ensure less waste. Source link

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Great drape? Check. Doesn’t wrinkle when you wear it, or stuff it into a suitcase for vacation. You betcha. Easy to dye and for factories to work with. Yup. And, wait, it's also breathable (read, comfortable), feels luxurious, and it’s sustainable. The fiber I am talking about is Lyocell. Or, if your fancy, Tencel Lyocell fabric. So, what is tencel fabric? No wonder lyocell material has become one of the fashion industries' fibers of choice for the past few years. Because, these features make it a particularly popular textile not just for clothing, but also home goods. But, if Lyocell is so perfect, why isn’t everyone using it for everything? Don’t worry, I’ll get to that.  This article is going to teach you all about what lyocell is, explore the fibers pros and cons, help you determine if it’s the right fiber for your clothing garments, and teach you where to source it.  We are going to cover some high-level textile stuff (sciencey). But, it’s important, and I know you can handle it.      BUT BEFORE WE GET STARTED... I love helping startup brand founders succeed, so I created a bunch of free guides that will help you with your business. They won’t be free forever, so make sure to grab them while you can. HERE’S WHAT YOU’LL LEARN What is the difference between lyocell and Tencel? What is lyocell fiber? How is lyocell fabric made? Properties of lyocell fabrics Stretch  Hand feel Shrinkage  Absorbency  Does it wrinkle?  Is lyocell better for hot or cold weather? Wash and care instructions Should you use lyocell in your clothing line? Pros Cons This or that? Tencel™ lyocelll vs lyocell Lyocell vs modal Lyocell vs viscose Sustainability - I saved this for the end for a reason Where to buy Lyocell fabric Additional sustainable fiber resources    NO TIME TO READ? CHECK OUT THIS 60 SECOND SLIDE SHOW!   LYOCELL VS TENCEL? Is lyocell the same as tencell lyocell? Yes, and no. Is a Xerox and photocopy the same thing? How about a band-aid and bandage? Or, a Kleenex and tissue? The difference between each example in all of these pairs is that one is a name brand, and the other is generic. Tencel Lyocell fabric is a name-brand version of Lyocell that is made and controlled by the company Lenzing. But, it gets a little more confusing. While Lyocell is a fiber, and Tencel is the branded version of that fiber, lyocell is also a manufacturing process (I'll explain more in just a minute). The pro to using Lenzing's branded Tencel and not the generic kind of fiber is that with Lenzing, you get all their traceability, meaning you know exactly where and how the fibers were made. But, the down side is that information comes at a higher price.  WHAT IS LYOCELL FIBER? Lyocell is a third generation rayon. First came viscose, then came modal (which was an improvement to the original viscose system), then came lyocell. And, all of these fibers are different types of rayons (think all squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares). All rayons are semi-synthetic cellulose fibers made from plant material. Viscose, modal, and lyocell are just different types of rayons. The same way, scarlet, fire engine, and crimson, are all different variations of the color red. Modal was first invented to try and make viscose more sustainable, which resulted in a semi-closed loop system. This means that some of the waste product from the production of modal was able to be reused to make more.  Then, lyocell took this a step further and created an almost completely closed-loop system. About 99% of the waste from lyocell production can be put back into the system to make new fibers. Pretty cool, huh? HOW IS LYOCELL MADE? Lyocell fibers are made similarly to viscose and modal. Lyocell and Tencel Lyrocell are semi- synthetic fibers, meaning they are man made, but are derived from plants. A totally synthetic fiber would be made from petroleum, FYI.  During the production process, wood pulp is gathered. The pulp is broken down into a liquid by chemicals, and that liquid is pushed through a teeny tiny shower head called a spinnerette. It’s pushed into a solution on the other side that will solidify the liquid and turn it into solid yarns. Technically lyocell material can be made of any type of regenerated cellulose, but bamboo and eucalyptus trees tend to be the most popular wood sources.  Tencel lyocell can also be made from different types of wood pulp, but generally, it is made from eucalyptus only.  Both bamboo and eucalyptus are fast growing, so they can be harvested and replanted quickly without leading to deforestation.  BAMBOO FABRIC I bet you have seen bamboo fabric marketed as a sustainable fabric option in stores. It is especially popular in pajamas, and home goods like bed sheets.  But, that bamboo fabric isn’t what a lot of brands and the media have led you to believe. It is not a natural fiber that comes from the dirt like cotton.  It is a rayon. Now, here is something very interesting that a lot of people don’t know. Bamboo rayon can be made in two different ways. It can be made using the old viscose rayon system. Or, it can be made using the lyocell system. Viscose bamboos tend not to be a very sustainable option, while bamboo lyocell that is made in a closed-loop manufacturing system is. So, the next time you are buying bamboo bed sheets, know they are nothing special, they are just regular old viscose or lyocell.    WHAT ARE THE PROPERTIES OF LYOCELL FIBERS? This section is going to help you learn lyocell fabric properties - everything that Lyocell can and can’t do. This way, you can determine, for yourself, if it is the best option for your clothing collection.  For simplicity, in this section I am going to use the word Lyocell, but please note that everything I am saying also applies to Tencel Lyocell fabric and fibers as well.  What does lyocell fabric feel like? Lyocell feels like a cotton viscose blend. It’s the best of both worlds! Lyocell has that nice, slinky, drapable feel that looks like silk or viscose. But, it tends to feel more comfy and cozy like cotton.  When you look at lyocell fabrics under a microscope, you can see tiny hair fibers poking up. This would also be the case if you were looking at cotton. Those little hair fibres are what create that soft feel (compared to a sleek and smooth hand feel with silk). Is lyocell fabric stretchy? Lyocell, on its own, is not a stretchy fiber. But brands that use it will often add spandex, elastane, or lycra, which are all very stretchy fibers. Underwear is a common example of a lyocell product that also has elastane added into the fabric! But, there are other ways to get stretchy fabrics without adding stretchy fibers.  Knit fabrics tend to have more engineered stretch than woven fabrics. Meaning you can use non stretch fibers, and still get a stretchy fabric. So, if you are looking for a stretchy lyocell fabric without elastic, opt for a knit over a woven.  Does lyocell fabric fabric shrink? Lyocell fibres tend not to shrink significantly.  But, the most important factor in fabric shrinkage is not the actual fiber, but the fabric construction. Knits, especially loose knits, tend to shrink the most. Woven fabrics tend to be more stable.  The way around shrinkage, no matter the fiber, is to have the fabric mill pre-shrink the fabric by pre-washing it or using a system called sanforizing. Sanforization is more eco-friendly because it does not use water. Instead a machine vibrates the fabric to relax the yarns, which allows them to shrink up to the same way a washing machine would.  Is lyocell fabric absorbent? It is very absorbent. Even more so than cotton. Cotton fibers have an absorbance of about 8%, while lyocell material has around 11%. This increased absorbancy is great for moving moisture away from the body, and creating a cool-feeling fabric - perfect for hot climates. Does lyocell fabric wrinkle? The ability to not wrinkle is actually called resiliency in the textile science community. Resilience is rated on a scale: excellent, good, fair, or poor. Cotton and viscose have poor resiliency, meaning they wrinkle easily. Lyocell material comes in with a rating of fair. While that is not great, it is still better than the other two fiber options.  And, if you are curious, the fiber with one of the best resiliencies is polyester.  Is lyocell fabric ideal for hot weather? In hot weather, lyocell is very good at not just absorbing but also wicking moisture. Wicking sounds like a super technical sporty term, but really all it means is moisture movement. So, fabrics that are good at moving moisture are good at wicking.  When a fabric is both good at absorbing and moving moisture, it is an ideal option for hot climates. That is because it will absorb sweat from the wearers body, then move and spread it out so it evaporates quickly. The key to staying cool isn’t just absorbing it up; it’s evaporating it quickly. That evaporation is what creates the sensation of cooling.  What are the wash and care instructions for lyocell fabric? While lyocell is not as delicate a fiber as silk, I still recommend washing on cold and drying on a tumble setting. Modern washing machines and dryers create a lot of friction. That friction is what breaks garments down and makes them look worn out.  I also always give shopers the bonus tip to wash clothes inside out. By doing this, you will protect the fabric on the outside and help keep your clothes lookinf new for longer. PROS OF LYOCELL FIBERS  One: It’s a Good Alternative To Organic Cotton I can’t tell you how many times I have had this exact conversation with designers (too many). It goes something like this… Designer – I want to use only organic fibers Me - cool, cotton? Designer – no, cotton is too stiff and rigid, I was something flirty and flowy Me – ok, how about silk Designer – no, too expensive Me – rayon? Designer – no, I like it, but according to the influencer I follow, rayon isn’t eco friendly and is killing orangutans Me – ok, so we’re back to cotton or silk, then And, we never really get anywhere.  Lyocell is kind of the loophole to this conversation.  It offers the flowyness that designers are looking for, but it is much more sustainable than traditional viscose. It is the bridge between cotton that is too stiff, and rayon that leads to deforestation and other environmental contamination issues. Two: It Is More Sustainable Lyocell does not contribute to deforestation or chemicals in the environment and is biodegradable.  One of the most important yet overlooked issues with sustainability is wearability. I always tell my clients, you can have the most sustainable fibers and products in the world. But, if no one wants to wear it because it’s ugly or doesn’t perform well, then what is the point? Lyocell material allows you to have your hyperboreal cake and eat it too.  That is because, Lyocell is a versatile and sustainable fabric that offers a great alternative to traditional materials like cotton and rayon. Its ability to wick moisture, shape retention, and biodegradability make it ideal for hot climates and eco-conscious consumers. With proper care, Tencel Lyocell garments can last longer and help reduce our impact on the environment, as sustainable fashion continues to gain popularity. CONS OF LYOCELL FIBERS One: It Still Uses Chemicals and other Resources Lyocell is not a natural fiber, even though it’s often made from bamboo or eucalyptus. And at the end of the day, a lot of chemicals and resources are being used to create it. Some examples of these chemicals include N-methyl morpholine- N-oxide (NMMO) and amine oxide (MMNO). Both of these chemicals are considered very low toxins, and most of the chemicals (up to 99%) can be reused again in the process.  But, the collecting of the wood, turning it into pulp, making a fiber, then packaging and shipping those fibers to a yarn spinner is all very resource heavy. It requires water, heat, and tons of electricity! Which all lead to climate change.  When you think about recycled and regenerated materials in general, ask yourself, how much more needs to go into the system, for something new to come out? And, is the cost of those resources worth it? Two: It’s Pricey Brand name Tencel Lyocell fabric is even more expensive than textiles made with generic fibers. But, in recent years, the price of Tencel lyocell fabric has come down a lot. But still, it is one of the most expensive fibers around.  To reduce costs many brands end up using generic lyocell material, which usually means less transparency (read, insight into wear the fibers came from and how they were made). Understanding this tradeoff between price and transparency, is, in my opinion, one of the keys to understanding greenwashing.  THIS OR THAT  Again, I will be using the term lyocell to include Tencel Lyocell fabric in this section.  Ok, so let’s pretend we are designing a womens dress. In the following examples, I will tell you where lyocell would be the best choice or where other fibers might be a better choice.  Let’s go! Lyocell VS Cotton What we are really looking at in this comparison is flow vs structure. Many of my clients often complain that they love the feel of cotton, but it’s just too stiff for the styles they are creating. They want something that moves and flows in the wind. So, If you want that easy, breezy, comfort of cotton, but a little more flow. Lyocell is the choice. Lyocell VS Modal Same, same, but different. Do you prefer the feel of silk or of cotton? Both fabrics are going to have a nice drape and feel. They will also both have a lot of movement (think, not stiff or structured). If you want your dress to feel more like silk and be a bit more shiny, modal is the way to go. For a more natural and matte cotton feel, choose lyocell material. Lyocell VS Viscose vs Cotton For brands that want the feel of cotton, but the drape of silk. Lyocell material is unlike all other viscose because it is designed to feel more like cotton. The fiber will fibrillate when washed. Meaning, it will become a little bit fuzzy, the way cotton does.  Now, there is a hack to get a viscose to feel like cotton. And that is by using staple-length viscose fibers. Viscose is generally one very long filament fiber. But some manufacturers will cut it up into cotton-size pieces, and twist those pieces together to form a yarn. The result is a fabric that feels a lot like cotton. So, again, if you want a cotton feel with a silk like flow, the Rolls-Royce rayon of fibers is going to be lyocell. But, if you are looking for something cheaper, you can try staple length (don’t forget to say that bit) viscose. For all of the property comparisons of cotton, viscose, lyocell, and modal, click here. IS LYOCELL SUSTAINABLE? SHOULD I USE IT IN MY BRAND? Are you looking for sustainably sourced textiles? It might be right for you. Or, maybe not.  It really depends on you and your values.  If you know me, then you know I am a true believer that nothing and everything is sustainable.  The right answer for every brand depends on what the end use of the product is, and the pros and cons of the alternative.  That is why I took the time to create so much high-level, textile science, information in this article. I didn’t just want to tell you, hey Lyocell is a closed loop system, and it doesn’t use petroleum; omg, so sustainable use it. I want you to learn the facts and make your own decisions for yourself.  WHERE TO BUY LYOCELL FABRICS Thinking about using Lyocell, or branded Tencel Lyocell fabric in your line? Here are some of the best ways to source the fabrics you are looking for. Start with Lenzing: Lenzing is….They will be able to direct you to fabric manufacturers in their supplier matrix. They might be a little more pricy, but when you buy from them, you know that the cellulosic materials going into their system are not damaging the planet and leading to deforestation, making this process more environmentally friendly. Birla Excel: The little known competitor of Lenzing is Excel fibers by Birla. “Birla Excel is made from a unique closed-loop process where the byproducts are completely reused, thereby minimizing discharge and reducing environmental impact. Designers swear by this resilient, wash & wear fabric as it imparts wonderful lustre, drape and softness. Its unique propensity to fibrillate can be controlled or accentuated for aesthetic versatility.” ADDITIONAL FIBER RESOURCES Want to learn more about other types of sustainable fibers? I got you. Rayon: everything you could possibly ever want to know about all the different kinds of rayon. Recycled cotton: pros and cons, and information on if it is a commercially viable option to help clean up fashion supply chains. Recycled polyester: Is it really just greenwashing? Spoiler, kinda. Modal: a comprehensive breakdown, just like this article, but on modal instead. WHAT DO YOU THINK? Do you plan to use Lyocell or Tencel Lyocell fabric for your brand? Let me know in the comments! Source link