#Lightweight Ladder

[corvidsindia]

Sturdy Step Ladders at Great Price

[equalonline]

How A Ladder Can Make Your Work Easier

A ladder is a set of rungs or steps. There are two variants of the ladder: rigid ladders which are self-supporting and that may be leaned against a vertical surface such as a wall, and aluminum which may be hung from the top. Rigid ladders are generally moveable, but some types are permanently fixed to a building. They are usually made up of metal, wood, and fiberglass, but they have been known to be made of tough plastic.

Ladders are the most wanted love of every housewife. Either it is to clean spider houses or to make your child like a monkey. Every housewife loves it. And for men, it plays the role of lifesaver to climb it and find their long-lost files. The ladder plays a very crucial role in every house. Not just only in the houses but also in shops too. Ladders have all the capacity to make you go from zero to hero.

Aluminum Ladders

Aluminum is the most well-liked choice for ladders used in households because the leading features of aluminium ladders are that they have a high strength-to-weight ratio which makes an aluminum model easy to transport and store as well as less expensive to produce than ladders which made from other materials. Aluminum products, such as ladders, may weigh up as much as 50% less.

Folding Ladders

A folding ladder is a ladder that is in the form of the step ladder style with one or more but generally not more than three that’s one-way hinges. For this ladder, Storage is not a problem as it is packed together once folded and be able to be easily stowed away. You can use this on rough surfaces such as a flight of stairs. As this type of ladder is lightweight, this is extremely moveable and suitable to use.

Telescopic Ladder

Telescoping ladders are a more versatile, moveable, and convenient form of the traditional ladder. As opposed to a typical adjustable ladder and extension ladder, this ladder used patented technology to extend and lock by the foot to a user's desired height, making them enormously versatile. This is convenient to store which is due to their compact nature. This is less vulnerable to the elements which are partially due to storage, and partially due to their makeup. This is lightweight because of that it is easily carried and transported. This is highly versatile which is appropriate for several jobs. This has high safety standards which are due to the sturdy build.

Multipurpose ladder

Multipurpose ladders are versatile and can be used for any purpose. It can be changeable and adjustable into a variety of positions according to how users want to use it. Users can use them as a step ladder, low platform, workbench, and an extension ladder with standoff (L-shaped bend), and that’s all in one single ladder which is an easily stored package. We can use it as the single solution for all our ladder requirements as it is very easily adjustable to any type of ladder. It is cost-effective as it eliminates the need to buy a variety of ladders for different purposes. It reduces space requirements for storage as you can buy only a single ladder and as well as you can fold multi-purpose ladders, make them compact and convenient to move at the same time.

The most common household ladders that are used for home purposes are step-ladders in which aluminum ladders are very strong and that’s why the most preferred choice for home purposes. Ladders made up of aluminum are lightweight and non-corrosive

Different kinds of industrial ladders are used for various applications. Most industrial ladders are made up of metal because they are required to be durable. Aluminum ladders become very popular because they are lighter in weight as compared to steel ladders and that is also not affected by corrosion. Some of the commonly used industrial ladders are step ladders, extension ladders, folding ladders, and platform ladders.

In my opinion, ladders are the most useful, sensible, and most importantly motivational things a person could ask for. It gives you a light, a light of path for your journey.

Quality that we all desire and it can become from those who are experienced in their work. So here for you EQUAL in which the name itself expresses the right one. EQUAL is a solution provider based in Jaipur, Rajasthan. It is one of the leading manufacturers in India. With Experience of 20+ years, EQUAL provides high-quality Ladders all over India at the best price. It designs ladders that are made from stainless steel and aluminum. Its ladders are durable and cost effective and they meet all the safety regulations.

[ladderstoreco12]

The Little Gaint Multi ladder and the Speed ladder have different weight limits.

[writing0305]

Baby/pregnancy prompt with Butcher prompt 7 and 10. Just some cute fluffy funny stuff during about the readers pregnancy. 💖

Baby.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader.

Summary: You are pregnant with Butcher's son and he is extremely protective of you. So protective that he doesn't even allow you to put together the furniture in the baby's nursery.

Warning: Swearing. That's it I think?

Propmpts: Pregnancy/ child.

7 - "Go easy. You are carrying my child."

10 - "Well, we both made that baby." - "Don't remind me."

----

Thank you so much for this request!! I love writing dad Butcher so much!!

Billy Butcher was taken with you almost immediately after you joined the boys. You were soft and kind, but still witty with a strong backbone. You two grew close very quickly and for the first time in a very long time, Butcher knew what it was like to be put first in someone’s life.

You adored and loved Butcher. You kept him grounded and gave him a reason to fight. But seven months ago, you gave him a reason to live. It came as a surprise to everyone when Butcher left The Boys and took you with him.

Finding out you were pregnant, and that he was going to be a father, was a turning point in Butcher’s life. Before, he would have died for the cause, but now he couldn’t see himself doing that. He couldn’t see himself leaving behind you or his kid.

He had managed to get help from Grace Mallory with a secure apartment for the two of you. For a few months, you were under witness protection until Victoria Neuman came forward, presenting Butcher with a secure and safe job at the FBSA. It was his ticket to take out supes without putting you or the baby in danger.

Things were good for you and Butcher, and all you had to do now, was wait for the arrival of your son. Never had you seen Butcher so happy and excited for something. Your pregnancy had brought forth a whole new man and you adored every last bit of it.

One morning you were in your son’s blue-painted nursery. Most of his things were already set up and ready for him, but you had bought a few extra things to put in the room. More furniture, toys, and clothes.

You were standing on a step ladder, screwing a hanging bookshelf into the wall. When you heard the front door open, followed by Billy’s heavy footsteps, you sighed softly. He hated it when you did things like this. He hated it when you strained yourself around the apartment. But to him, even standing up was straining yourself too much.

You focused on getting the bookshelf on the wall as you listened to Billy’s footsteps walking down the hallway and stopping in front of the nursery. “Oi, what the bloody hell are you doing?” He questioned.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, offering him a sheepish smile as you shrugged your shoulders. “I bought some things for his nursery.” You replied, even though you knew that wasn’t exactly what he was referring to. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack seeing you on the step ladder.

His gaze drifted over the few boxes and bags of purchased items that lay across the floor and he raised his eyebrows at you. “Some things? By that, you mean the whole fuckin’ store?” He asked as he stepped into the room.

“It’s not that much.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders as you grabbed a second hanging bookshelf. They were both equally small, meant to only fit a small amount of lightweight books.

Butcher stepped forward when he saw you climb back onto the step ladder again and stretched out to angle the shelf perfectly in line with the first one. “You can’t put those things up yourself, luv.” He argued with a shake of his head.

“Why not?” You asked as you looked down at him with furrowed eyebrows. “I can reach them.” You said as you shrugged your shoulders again.

He sighed as he shook his head again. “Just because you can reach them, ain’t mean you should be putting them up.” He argued as he held a hand out, wanting you to hand him the small shelf.

“Billy, it’s fine.” You sighed with a shake of your head, not handing over the shelf. “I’m fine, he’s fine.” You assured as you placed your free hand against your stomach, offering Butcher a smile

Butcher pursed his lips as he motioned with his hand for you to give him the shelf. “Here, let me do it for you.” He insisted, his voice soft and gentle. He was always cautious around you, as you got further along in your pregnancy and you had absolutely raging hormones that could go from 0 to a fucking blood bath in mere seconds.

You sighed, shoulders slouching as you stared down into his determined hazel eyes. “You’re not letting me do this, are you?” You asked softly as your head tilted to the side.

He pushed his tongue around against the inside of his cheek as he gave you a firm shake of his head. “Not a fuckin’ chance.” He replied.

You let out an overly dramatic sigh as you nodded your head. “Fine.” You huffed as you handed him the shelf, he took it in one hand and pressed the other hand against your waist, his hold secure as you slowly stepped off the ladder.

He took your place and began screwing the shelf securely against the wall. You watched him for a few seconds with your hands resting on your hips. Then the box of the rocking chair caught your attention. You kneeled down and grabbed a boxcutter. Butcher didn’t pay you any attention, thinking you were cutting open smaller items to put together.

He stepped off the ladder when he was done with the shelf and turned to you. His face fell when he saw you putting together the rocking chair. “What the bloody hell are ya doing now?” He asked as he raised his arms up by his side, by now looking done with you.

“Putting together this rocking chair.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “Got it for a fucking bargain and a half.” You informed him as you waved a hand through the air, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/n.” He sighed as he kneeled down on the ground next to you, taking away the large pieces of wood and sharp objects that lay around you.

Your eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugged at your lips as you stared at him. “Not, Billy I can do it.” You whined as you tried to grab the things back from him and both of you almost looked childish as he pushed it all out of your reach.

You huffed as you stared at Butcher, your frown deepening. He sighed and pursed his lips as he stared at you. “Go easy.” He pleaded as he reached out to place a hand on your swollen stomach.“You are carrying my child.” He reminded you. “Let me do this.” He pleaded.

“I’m pregnant, not fragile.” You replied softly as you placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze before you reached out, gripping onto the crib and pulling yourself up with a soft grunt.

“I ain’t takin the fuckin’ risk.” He replied with a shake of his head as he picked up a screwdriver to begin putting together the chair.  “Not with you, or this kid.” He said, pointing the screwdriver up at you and then towards your baby bump. You smiled softly as you stared down at him. You truly found this side of him endearing, even if it sometimes got overbearing how protective he was. “What you smiling about?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow.

You shrugged your shoulders as your smile grew a little. “I like seeing you this way.” You replied softly as you absentmindedly rubbed your bump.

Butcher stared at you for a second before his gaze diverted down to the rocking chair and his eyebrows furrowed. “What way?” He asked in confusion.

“All protective, all smiley.” You replied softly as you reached your hand out to him. He took your hand and pulled himself up to his feet. While one hand wrapped around your waist, his other free hand rested against your bump, rubbing it softly. “Not looking for a reason to get yourself hurt.” You added softly as you sighed.

“I’ve told ya, I’m done with that shit.” He replied with a shake of his head. He was fine with his office job. Never did he want to go into the field again. Never did he want to be on the front lines of danger again. “I ain’t putting either of you in danger.” He said softly as his gaze flicked down to your stomach.

“I know.” You replied with a nod of your head as you reached up and cupped his cheek, your fingers brushing over his beard.  “Still, it’s nice to see this side of you.” You said softly before standing up on the tips of your toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his lips working softly against yours. You pulled away, offering him a pleading smile. “Now, can I help with my baby’s room?” You asked as you quirked an eyebrow.

Butcher pursed his lips as he stared down at you, still rubbing your stomach. “Let me take care of it.” He pleaded softly, his eyebrows slightly knitting together.

You sighed, loosely wrapping both arms around his shoulders. “It’s my baby too you know.” You reminded with a light hearted tone of voice.

"Well, we both made that baby." He replied as he lifted his hand from your stomach and pointed at the bump.

You playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Don't remind me." You muttered with a teasing voice as you took a few steps back, running a hand over your bump.

Butcher’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted as he stared at you. “Is that regret I hear?” He asked in a lighthearted tone as his head cocked to the side.

You raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging at your lips as you slowly shook your head. “No.” You assured softly as he took a step closer to you again, his hands reaching out to hold onto your hips. “There’s no regret.” You assured him. “Not about you, and not about him.” You said before standing up on the tip of your toes again and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Butcher tried to deepen the kiss but you pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I have to pee…” You whispered.

Butcher rolled his eyes as he bit back the smile that tried to tug at his lips. “Way to ruin the mood, luv.” He teased as he pulled away from you.

“Your son thinks my bladder is a trampoline.” You huffed as your lips pouted out into a frown and you turned around, slowly making your way towards the door.

“Should you be wearing those adult diapers?” Butcher questioned, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips as he stared at you walk away, or as he’d like to comment on, waddled away.

You spun around, giving him a pointed look. “I will fucking kill you.” You warned as you pointed a threatening finger toward him.

Butcher chuckled, putting his hands up in defense. “Just asking.” He replied with a shake of his head. He watched you turn around and waddle out of the room, waiting before he called out after you. “I can go out a buy some.”

“Billy!” You snapped as you reached the bathroom and you could hear his low chuckle coming from the nursery. You let a small smile slip as you shook your head at him.

You and Butcher managed to finish the nursery together. All you were allowed to do was hand him things and put away the new clothes and toys. Most of your time was spent eating pieces of toast with melted butter. After that, you went to take a warm bubble bath and Butcher went to pick up dinner.

When you got out of the bathroom, Butcher had returned and you could smell the warm aroma of pizza coming from the kitchen. You waddled down the hallway, following the smell that made your stomach grumble. “Oh…is that pizza I smell?” You asked as you went into the kitchen.

Butcher let out a breath of amusement as he opened the pizza box. “Got the nose of a fucking police dog you.” He commented with a teasing voice as he wiggled a finger in your direction. He pulled out two plates, handing you one.

Like always, Butcher let you get the first serving, so he stepped back, watching as you placed slices of cheesy pizza on your plate. “I’m starving.” You sighed softly.

Butcher raised an eyebrow at you, his head tilting to the side. “You just had five slices of toast.” He reminded you as a small smile tugged at his lips.

“And now I’m gonna have five slices of pizza.” You replied with a sassy shrug of your shoulders as you returned his smile, taking a big bite of one of the slices already.

“Brought you  a diet coke too.” He informed you as he pointed towards one of the two diet cokes next to the pizza box before he filled his own plate with a few slices of pizza.

“Thank you.” You replied, placing a kiss on his bearded cheek before grabbing your diet coke and heading to the living room. Butcher followed after you and you both made yourselves comfortable on the couch.  You rested your plate on your lap, moaning softly in delight as you ate your pizza. There was a bit of silence between the two of you, but you interrupted it with a sharp gasp when your son kicked you hard and your hand shot down to your stomach. “Oh-”

If you were a supe with super hearing, you would have heard Butcher’s heart drop. He immediately set aside his plate of pizza and turned his attention to you. “What? What is it?” He asked as he placed a protective hand against your stomach.

You gasped as your son began kicking more and more. “He’s kicking a lot right now.” You uttered and Butcher let out a sigh of relief as he briefly closed his eyes. You took hold of his hand and moved it to where your son was kicking.  “Here.” You whispered.

The smallest smile tugged at Butcher’s lips at the feeling of his son’s kicks beneath the palm of his hand. “Fuck…I’ll never get over this feeling.” He whispered softly. You let out a grunt as the tiny kicks on one spot started to become sore. Butcher gave you a worried look before turning to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles against the spot. “Alright lad, calm down.”  He spoke softly to your bump. “You kick and your mum gets pissy with me.” He teased.

“I will throw you with a slice of pizza.” You warned Butcher with a pointed side eyes as you picked up a slice of pizza as a threat.

Butcher scoffed in amusement as he pulled away and sat back in his seat. “We both know you ain’t wasting a good fucking slice of pizza.” He said as he pointed a finger down at your pizza.

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was right. “Fine.” You huffed with a shake of your head. “I’ll throw you with something else.” You told him.

Butcher’s gaze shot down towards your stomach. “See what I mean?” He asked your bump as he quirked an eyebrow.

You huffed, placing a hand over your stomach as you scowled at Butcher. “Billy, you’re asking for it.” You warned him and he let out another chuckle.

He finished his food first and put his plate down on the coffee table before he turned to you. “Wanna put a movie on?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah.” You replied with a nod of your head as you munched on your pizza. “Let’s watch something scary.” You suggested and the two of you shared a smile. You had both always been suckers for scary movies and it was one of the many interests you shared.

Butcher put on a movie before shifting on the couch, getting into a comfortable position of half lying and half sitting. “Come here.” He called out as he spread his arm out and you set your pate aside as you scooted back, laying against his side as his arm wrapped around you and his hand protectively rested against your bump.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5.1k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. warnings for foul language, substance use (two characters get crossfaded), and sexually suggestive content (finally lol)

part eight: the final stormㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   previous. next. masterlist

“y/n, have you considered purchasing glasses?” 

  ironically, the question made you narrow your eyes at namjoon, who was mindlessly passing out glasses for the table. some of the boys stifled laughs and you wondered what that was about. you were catching them up on how jungkook has been helping you around the farm - albeit, not recently. every time things seemed to be all right, there was an almost kiss that was followed by someone taking distance. the first time, it was jungkook. now, it was you.

  “what are you talking about?” you asked, just as jungkook walked through the front doors of the saloon.

  it was a holiday, so everyone decided to take the day off and hoseok closed up the pub from the public. that left you and your friends to claim the saloon as your hangout spot for the night. unlike everyone else, you still had things to take care of, having got up early and tended to the livestock. even though you did cut your day short, finishing up by lunch-time, you were tired from the preceding seven day work week. it was about time you had a drink.

  jungkook gave a small wave to everyone and sat himself in between seokjin and jimin, across from you. “sorry, i’m late. i was dropping jiwon at mrs. oh’s and she forgot her ipad,” he said.

  “we haven’t sat down and drank in a while with all of us, it’s nice that we’re all here,” remarked namjoon, apparently brushing off your previous question.

  some time had passed since the everyone in the group was able to hang out together, the last time being movie night at taehyung’s house. therefore, some time had passed since things got weird between you and jungkook. you wouldn’t call the first incident during breakfast-dinner an “almost kiss,” since you weren’t even sure if jungkook wanted to kiss you or it was all in your head. as for the night of jiwon’s disappearance, that was definitely more of a kiss than the other, but you dismissed it as something done in the heat of a vulnerable moment. given the conflicting suggestions from those around you, you had decided to take it easy and let him have his distance.

  apparently, jungkook did not like that and you were about to learn this.

  you crinkled your nose at the shots being poured. “i haven’t played a drinking game in so long.”

  hoseok, who was doing the honours, shook his head. “it’s okay, you definitely won’t lose. jimin is a lightweight,” he grinned, but jimin didn’t look the slightest bit fazed.

  “i’m not embarrassed. getting drunk faster means i spend less money,” jimin countered, which you thought was actually a good point.

  beside you, taehyung slid over a shot glass closer to you, since hoseok was at the other end of the table. you thanked him casually, but you swore you noticed jungkook’s eyes trained on the interaction. you wanted to scoff, since this was exactly what he was encouraging with taehyung, despite the fact that he was the individual in your friend group that you talked the least to. that was the most baffling part.

  “y/n can definitely drink. you had, like, four bottles to yourself last week,” seokjin commented.

  that immediately got jungkook’s attention. “last week?” he asked, voice an octave too high to be dismissed as a casual question.

  “yeah,” answered taehyung. “a few of us got dinner last week. i think you said no one could watch jiwon.” 

  “why, would you have changed your mind if you knew y/n was going to be th - “ yoongi started, but was cut off by two sharp elbow jabs from both sides, courtesy of namjoon and seokjin.

  on the other hand, you only accepted the invite because they mentioned jungkook couldn’t make it. it was to the same tune of you leaving book club early when jungkook made the meeting thirty minutes late or you helping namjoon with preparations for the midsummer fair only during jungkook’s working hours. you also avoided the general store for any errands, leaving you with a broken mop that couldn’t be replaced because of you staying away from him. 

  when jungkook got up to take a phone call, jimin poked you. “jungkook told me he thinks you’re avoiding him.” his voice was low, leaving the conversation to only be heard between the two of you.

  “huh? oh, yeah, i am.”

  the way his mouth dropped made you want to laugh. “what? why?”

  “i need to sort myself out. he should also,” you answered, shrugging. it looked like jimin wanted to ask more, but jungkook returned and the talk ceased.

  yoongi brought playing cards and the eight of you began a random game, which he explained the rules for. although the bar was empty, save for your group, voices filled the establishment to the brim. music flowed in the background amidst the way conversation did and it only grew with the more soju being poured. you did make a mental note to find some female friends in town, though, having to chastise some of the boys for jokes that they could have been cancelled for. 

  eventually, you had quite a few drinks, despite never being on the losing end for any of the games, which would usually call for the player to do so. at some point, a glass of water magically appeared in front of you. you turned to see that it was who jungkook had gotten up from his seat, now putting the pitcher of water back behind the bar. 

  the conversation moved to talking about the midsummer festival, which only grew rowdy once drinks were poured.

  “i bet you fifty bucks that you won’t find a date.” it was yoongi who sung the dare to jimin, who immediately accepted the challenge. 

  namjoon sighed, as he dealt cards across the table. “or you guys can be productive members of society and help me out by running a booth.”

  “oh! what booth do you need help with?” seokjin asked, slowly and a little too rehearsed. you looked at him oddly, wondering why he was talking like that and why he was side-eying namjoon the whole time. 

  namjoon sighed deeply at seokjin, eyes wide like he was about to slap him. “the kissing booth,” he answered, through gritted teeth, and you could catch the boys snickering at the scene. 

  again, with a mischievous glint in his eye, yoongi spoke up. “oh? y/n, you should do it. everyone in town thinks you’re a beauty.”

  you opened your mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

  “yeah, if you want to get sick,” jungkook instantly cut in, out of nowhere. “do you know how many germs a kissing booth will spread? hyung, don’t you think it’s a bit irresponsible to hold one?” it was like he couldn’t stop talking, despite the fact that he’d been silent for the last little while and suddenly had a burst of passion about kissing booths.

  the debate continued on, as hoseok poured yet another round of shots for the eight of you. you only really listened on, mostly confused because this was the first you heard of this idea. while helping namjoon and mayor kim with the festival preparations, there was not a single mention of a kissing booth in the plans. you narrowed your eyes at namjoon, who gave you a random thumbs up under the table.

  meanwhile, jungkook had yet to directly interact with you since the night started. you could understand why and the more you had to drink, the more you wanted to clear the air without holding back. there had yet to be an opportunity, though.

  “i’m going out for a smoke,” announced jungkook after just under three hours passed. 

  the alcohol in your system spoke for you before you even realized. “i’ll come.” 

  “no, it’s bad for you,” jungkook shot back in a heartbeat, eyebrows raised at your response. “you don’t smoke.” he waved something cylindrical in his hand, shiny and metallic. you made it out to be a grinder.

  to your side, seokjin pouted. “but, we were winning the game!” the two of you claimed victory for the past three rounds in a row, partaking in a game for partners and the eight of you evening things out for teams. 

  your competitive side definitely came out during the drinking, even despite being under the influence. it maybe had something to do with the fact that jungkook immediately claimed taehyung as his partner earlier, nearly jumping out of his seat when he did so. when you asked him why he was so hasty, jungkook replied that it was because he was ready to beat you and taehyung was the best at the game after himself.

  “are you guys going to talk now? i’m tired of the tension,” yoongi pleaded, but was hushed by taehyung and wasn’t heard by either you or jungkook.

  taehyung cleared his throat. “it’s okay, i’ll be your partner, jin hyung.” he rubbed his temples, looking at you and jungkook. “you guys can join in the next round.”

  “i smoke,” you insisted to jungkook. this wasn’t entirely false, as it was something you gravitated towards in social settings only. with a few drinks in your system, this was a likely time for you to accept a joint, whether it was with jungkook or not.

  jungkook cocked an eyebrow at you. “fine. you can roll then,” he said, as if testing you.

  evidently, you ended up failing the test and jungkook finally found the one thing you weren’t good at.

  outside and through the back door of the saloon, you and jungkook were propped up on some large boulders. like it always was, the stars were out and twinkling in a mesmerizing fashion. in your tipsy state, they were way too bright. meanwhile, across from where you sat, jungkook was watching you struggle with the rolling papers in between your fingers. he snickered to himself, taking a sip of the beer that he brought with him.

  the blistering and sweltering of the summer air called for clothing that didn’t suffocate you, but you felt naked under jungkook’s gaze. you wore a mustard yellow tube top and men’s basketball shorts, a pair that you stole from your ex, while your hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. your legs swung back and forth, your feet not even close to touching the ground while sitting on the boulder, and you were wearing flip flops from the general store.

  “when i met you at the funeral again, you were wearing high heels and satin,” jungkook randomly commented, the alcohol failing to conceal his once over of your appearance. “even on your first day, you were wearing platforms.”

  you were certainly blushing from his stare, but the nightfall concealed the red of your bashfulness. “i guess the last two months changed me already.” you didn’t realize that jungkook remembered such details long after the fact.

  he took a swig from his bottle. “don’t get me wrong. i like you both ways,” jungkook offered and the redness on your cheeks spread to the rest of your face. 

  you didn’t want to push him and ask what he meant by that. he was certainly right, though, your time in amber valley was already drastically affecting you. yet, it was easy to miss, especially after you finally found the right tune to your routine. though your new life was hard work, you’d never felt so easygoing and waking up never felt like a chore. when your backyard was beautiful fields, sunflowers grew in front of your house and your best friends were your stubborn chickens, life was no longer one of stressful hustle.

  jungkook made you break away from your thoughts, speaking up again to cut the silence. “you know, anytime before i turn forty would be nice.”

  you furrowed your eyebrows and then realized he was gesturing to the papers and his grinder in your lap, remembering the task you had at hand. “oh, sorry. forgot what i was doing,” you responded.

  he chuckled and you nearly trembled when he hopped off his boulder, strolling towards you. before you knew it, jungkook stood right in front of you, so close you could bump head. he swiped the materials from your lap - just barely brushing his hands on your legs. this time, unlike the moment you shared at dinner, something told you that jungkook knew what he was doing because he looked immediately up at you when he did so. 

  when jungkook didn’t move, it was your turn to break the silence and admittedly, it took all your strength. “you’ve had a couple drinks. you want to smoke later?” you suggested, finding the bravery to look right back at him through your eyelashes. 

  he stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head, as if to say it was no big deal. instead of going back to his previous sitting space, jungkook leaned on the tree just a few feet away from you and set his bottle on your side. 

  “we have the day off, relax a bit,” he said breezily, raising the papers to his mouth and applied the tiniest bit of moisture from his lips. you recalled the way they looked in your recurring dreams and suddenly found the ground the most interesting thing in the world.

  you replied, “i am relaxed,” and took his bottle from beside you, taking a gulp. 

  you felt his eyes burning into you and as the alcohol went down your throat, the sensation felt less and less hot. instead, you were inclined to meet his eyes again and when you did, you saw that your suspicions were correct. jungkook was still looking right at you.

  the distraction pulled your attention away with what jungkook was fumbling around with in his hands and before your very eyes, he held up perfectly neat joint between his thumb and index. it took a grand total over less than two minutes.

  “done,” jungkook announced, as he began feeling his pockets for a lighter.

  you gaped. “that was insanely fast.”

  he snorted. “i shouldn’t have asked you. pretty girls have men rolling for them all the time, why am i surprised that you couldn’t do it?” it sounded like jungkook was teasing you, but his expression remained serious. 

  “jeon jungkook, you’ve been talking a lot tonight,” you voiced, mindlessly playing with your hair. 

  you weren’t sure if your words were ones of warning or encouragement, since the only thing you could focus on was how jungkook just called you pretty. meanwhile, it was hard to resist taking another sip of jungkook’s drink, hoping it would ease your heart rate. you did so, taking a larger gulp than before, and you noticed the way he frowned when watching you.

  “have i?” jungkook questioned, putting the joint between his lips and clicked his lighter, bringing it close to his face and letting the tip turn a deep orange. sterling smoke filled your surroundings, but he was clear as day. 

  you nodded slowly. “more than usual. and that’s with that big mouth of yours,” you added, hoping that cracking a joke would make you at ease.

  it didn’t. jungkook’s lips did tug into a smile, but you were more distracted with the way that he looked blowing out clouds of smoke - honestly, he was pretty. his lips were pretty and his heavy lids were pretty. the way he voice grew raspy as the night went on and more so when he smoked was pretty.

  you realized that you were staring now too and only realized when jungkook gently took his bottle away from your grip. he sighed, placing it on the ground to pick up later. 

  “and you haven’t talked much. that means you shouldn’t have more of this,” he asserted, even despite your whines of objection. “when your big mouth is quiet, that’s trouble. you have something on your mind?” 

  “then pass the joint,” you said, folding your arms across your chest. 

  jungkook immediately burst out laughing, which annoyed you. “absolutely not. you’re drunk and you couldn’t roll, so that means you don’t need to get high.”

  you pouted, which was extremely out of character for you and made jungkook laugh even more. “what? no.”

  “i’m the one who’s going to be walking you home safe, so i’d like to do it with a peace of mind, thanks,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he examined the state you were in. 

  it never occurred to you to ask any of the boys to make sure that you could get home safely and no one offered. you were confident that you could make it home just fine, but didn’t realize that jungkook had already made it his responsibility to look after you.

  “you know,” you began, “you used to always throw a fit when your mom asked you to walk me home.”

  that was one of your most vivid memories from your childhood in amber valley. even though jungkook was technically younger than you, it was his job to be by your side. it was one of the things that you got teased about back then, mostly by jimin in his devilish phase.

  “you used to get pissed off, but you walked me home every time. i feel like when i look back, i can remember so much of us just walking or riding our horses as kids. i don’t really remember where we were going or what we were up to - only you were always by my side.”

  jungkook looked down, kicking a rock. “safe to say i’ve never had a friend like you?” he hesitated.

  it seemed like every time someone uttered the “f” word, the tension thickened like molasses. it was like a rapid game of table tennis, the way the two of you bounced the word back and forth at each other, hoping the other person would finally give up. at this moment, you and jungkook both looked like you were ready to wave the white flag. 

  but, of course, you were both too competitive to lose. 

  shoving your feelings away, you hopped off the boulder and made steps towards jungkook. he instinctively straightened, no longer leaning on the tree when he watched you approach. instead, he peered down at you, a questioning look glimmering in his eyes. 

  “let me have some,” you demanded, pointing at his hand. “i didn’t come outside just to chat with you.”

  “oh, you didn’t?” jungkook countered, as if you were lying through your teeth and he knew it. “you didn’t come outside to be with me?”

  the words he spoke were sharp and challenged you. you weren’t even sure how to grasp them and by jungkook’s silence, neither did he. he paused for a moment, as if pondering his choices. your feet were planted in the ground, as it was your turn to stand inches away from him and used this to show you weren’t afraid of his challenge. 

  eventually, jungkook chuckled in disbelief. without moving, he brought the lighter to the joint once more, ensuring it was lit. he leaned back into the tree and you were about to object, thinking he was going to refuse your request again. then, instead of handing the joint to you, jungkook turned it around and used his other hand to pull you closer by the arm. you stumbled ahead, nearly chest to chest with jungkook.

  “here,” jungkook said and you were confused.

  he held the joint up, licking his lips and didn’t move. you realized he was holding it for you. jungkook even moved strands of hair from the front of your face and you knew he saw you shiver. as soon as you saw what he waa doing, without missing a beat, you leaned in ever so slightly and looked right up at him when you did. you closed your lips around the tip, the sensation filling your lungs, and he watched you intently. as you inhaled, you found yourself leaning even further into his touch, legs now touching.

  nobody moved when you finished and you coughed gently in the other direction after exhaling. he playfully patted your back, as you let it out. you took one more inhale and then, he brought it back to his own lips.

  “good girl,” he murmured and your mouth went dry, which was definitely not a result of the weed. 

  when you composed yourself, you were aware of how close you two were now standing to each other. it felt like another challenge, to see who would move first. neither of you lost, unlike last time. 

  “you’ve been avoiding me,” you finally blurted out, but jungkook didn’t seem to mind. in fact, his expression remained blank and unreadable, which was driving you crazy.

  jungkook responded, “you mean you’ve been avoiding me?” his voice was lower and neared a whisper of a volume.

  “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “and i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back, before sighing and looking down at his feet. “maybe i have been talking too much tonight, bunny.” his voice dialed back on intensity. 

  you raised an eyebrow at jungkook. “why, are you holding something back?” the substances in your body were directing you like a puppet, but it was all thoughts and feelings that you’d held captive in your mind for weeks, being released at once. 

  “you’re making this so difficult,” jungkook grunted, gently pushing you away now, but you didn’t move. “i’m not doing this while you’re drunk.”

  “doing what?” you pressed his statements further and stepped closer again. “i’m drunk, but i know what i’m doing.”

  jungkook gritted his teeth and instead of responding, he slowly bent down and picked the beer bottle up from the ground. swishing it around slightly, he finished the rest of the liquid in one gulp. you didn’t miss the way he didn’t step back, still at the same proximity and refused to be the first one to move. you also refused, for once. 

  though you didn't have much to smoke, the high was settling into your muscles and you felt heavier than usual. jungkook gave you a once over again and observed this. he pressed his lips together and came even closer, wrapping his large hand around your wrist.

  he carefully tugged you towards the back door. “come on. time to go.”

  “no.”

  jungkook pretended to not hear you. “let’s go, you need to sit down.” yet somehow, his tone was unconvincing and his grip lacked intention. it was as if really was he was holding something back. 

  “why did you tell me to ask taehyung out? are you a child?” you were relentless, commanding questions left and right. you even stared right at him, as the alcohol and weed washed away any anxiety pooling in your stomach.

  his jaw visibly clenched. “you’re always so stubborn, you know?” jungkook didn’t sound angry or exasperated, but more so amazed at the attitude you kept up like a brick wall. even he had trouble in your opposition. 

  “and don’t start with me about avoiding you, i was just taking a page out of the jeon jungkook handbook of communication,” you snapped, letting his question through in one ear and out the other.

  “oh, give me a break - “

  “no, now would be a great time to explain yourself,” you demanded.

  jungkook clenched his jaw, before taking another drag of his joint and promptly put it out against the tree. even though you felt nothing but frustration run through your veins, it was damning that he looked so good. you were used to his cheery attitude and playfulness, but something about seeing him so serious made your heart jump in different ways.

  he finally spoke, “i was trying to give you space at first because you have a lot going on. you’re running the farm all by yourself, you live alone - “

  “i’m a grown adult, jungkook! we aren’t kids anymore, you don’t have to protect me!” you cried, voice cracking slightly and when he didn’t answer, you continued. “why are you creating distance between us? do you know how happy i was to have you back in my life after so long?” 

  quietly, he replied, “i was, too.”

  “why are we ignoring what happened at the farmhouse? twice, actually?” you asked, exasperated. “is it because you have jiwon? or, am i imagining things and this is all in my head?”

  “stop asking a million questions a minute.”

  when jungkook’s voice dropped below a whisper, it snapped you back into the reality in front of you, where his face was inches away from yours.

  dreams of you kissing jungkook then flashed before your eyes. the haunting, yet sacchrine images that had been following you around for days clutched onto the confusing emotions that had been following you for the past month and a half. it was clearer now that the gap between the two of you drew smaller and smaller as the conversation went on. it was now at the point where your noses were nearly touching.

  “i tried to fight it, every time it got too close. but, last time - “

  “last time, you were vulnerable. it would have felt wrong if i. . . “ you trailed off, not daring to finish the sentence. the both of you knew what would have happened if you didn’t pull away during your last night together.

  when no one said anything or moved even an inch, jungkook spoke once more. his eyes fell to your lips and this time, he didn’t hide it. they remained fixated until he opened his mouth.

  “i dare you,” was all jungkook said.

  in your twenty five years of living, you never, ever, not once lost a dare to jeon jungkook. the dare in question needed no verbalization for the two of you to understand. the understanding was crystal clear - it was in the way jungkook’s grip on your wrist somehow turned into a gentle hold of your hand, in the way that he counted the amount of times you bit your lip and it was in the way that nobody wanted to move. the dare sounded playful aloud, but was sharp and impatient. 

  today was not the day you were going to lose for the first time. 

  closing the distance between your lips and jungkook’s felt like a slow motion reel, like the entire world braked its rotation just for the two of you. it was as if you could hear each flap of a butterfly’s wings and each leaf on the branches above you rustling in the sticky, summer breeze. there was very little space left between you and jungkook at this point, but the leap to meet his lips you took felt centuries long. 

  jungkook’s lips were as soft as they looked and his clasp in your hand never loosened, only accompanied by his other arm locking around your waist. you could’ve sworn you heard the clatter of the beer bottle drop against the dirt beneath your feet, but your ears were ringing too loud to be sure. he took you by the waist, enveloping you and pulling you as close as he could, deepening the kiss. 

  instantly, like being shocked by electricity, you brought your arms around jungkook’s neck and balanced yourself as high as you could on your tippy toes. you swiped your tongue against his lip piercing. the kiss was hungry and lacked any sense of patience. he moaned softly and his other arm finally dropped your hand, only to bring it around your waist to join the other. he lifted you slightly in your kiss, noticing that you struggled to meet his height, and you giggled into the kiss. 

  jungkook also laughed against your lips and you thought it was finally breaking the tension of the moment. you were proven wrong by yourself, your own body betraying you when you began running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head without even realizing it. jungkook moaned again, louder, at the sensation of you pulling at the strands and bit your bottom lip in response. 

  “shit, you sure you want to do that?” he warned against your lips, but you were distracted by the way his raspy voice lit all your sensations on fire and you slipped your tongue into the kiss.

  the two of you could have been lost in each other’s lips for hours - you wouldn’t be able to tell, completely lost. you stumbled briefly when jungkook led you to turn around and switch with your back against the tree, but he steadied you immediately and held most of your weight without breaking the kiss. he pressed you closer against the tree, now slowing down. 

  jungkook still had his arms around your body, protecting your bare back from the bark and from tripping before anything. now, though, the kiss was no longer hungry, but still intense as if the two of you continued to drown yourselves in each other’s touch. your lips moved against him slowly, savouring each second. this is when you truly lost track of time.

  nobody was going to pull away, even though you could hear jungkook’s phone going off with texts. the only thing that worked was the pattering of raindrops on your head. you ignored it at first and they lessened when jungkook put a hand above your head to protect you. except, the rain only intensified and the two of you needed to catch your breath.

  you swore your lips were tingling when you pulled away. jungkook barely moved, forehead to forehead to you. you met his eyes and despite the cold of the rain, his gaze warmed you. the two of you panted in unison, no words needed to say.

  “we keep finding ourselves in the rain,” jungkook managed to whisper in between breaths. 

  you jumped at the aggressive clap of thunder in the distance, the sky flashing for a moment. this was what snapped you out of your daze, unable to shake off the feeling of jungkook’s lips and body against your own. when you jumped, he wrapped his arms tighter against you, protectively. before you let him pull you away back indoors, there was one more thing you had to say.

  “i win.”

  the kiss you shared with jungkook was ingrained in your memory and there was no chance of you wiping it away, even if you had a few drinks that night. the kiss jolted you cold sober, more alert than you could ever be. the kiss was stretching your muscles after a long drive. it was what both of you had been holding back for the longest time and you didn’t even know it, until your fingers were tangled in his hair and his strong arms gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822 @taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177 @myseokjinji

[marzipanandminutiae]

Friend Marzi, why do we have an inclination to believe that all historical clothing was very heavy? Fabrics varied in lightness and for the very heat of summer for example an all-silk or all-muslin ensemble could be made very light and breathable if necessary, even foregoing implements like boning, etc. Like, there are ways to not be dragging your skirts around.

Working people and people with active hobbies were already wearing fewer layers anyway, so we shouldn't expect them to be encumbered. Why do we anyway?

Friend Tumblr User Chasingtheskyline! Hello!

(This answer will focus primarily on conventionally feminine clothing, since that's my area of expertise. Just to disclaim.)

I think it's because of the layering, really. And the idea that, as you touched on, Only Rich People Wore All That (not so much- the basic makeup of chemise/combinations, maybe drawers post-1820s, corset/stays, at least one petticoat, skirt, bodice for women was pretty consistent across most of the social ladder during the 18th and 19th centuries at least) so of COURSE it's heavy and impractical. And as we all know, rich people didn't have lives or do things! They just lounged around being rich and not moving! </s>

We're used to one layer of our mostly-polyester clothing being extremely warming in summer because. It's polyester. Breathability is not something people think about much nowadays, since we're so used to just exposing as much skin as possible to cool down. Ergo, the idea that it's layers of lightweight fabric doesn't really occur to people, I think.

Another element, I think, may be that some of these people have carried reproduction historical garments but never worn them. Or weighed them in a heap on a scale- yes, really -and never taken into account the weight distribution when they're on a body. I've owned garments that were a bear to carry, but perfectly comfortable to wear.

Also, you know. We've long had a vested interest in making our own garments seem like The Best Most Advanced Garments. You can find articles from as early as the 1920s decrying Victorian "trailing skirts and trailing hair" as unhygienic and uncomfortable Never mind that the ADULTS saying this would have known full well that shorter skirts were commonplace for situations where Excessive Dirt would be present and grown women wore their hair up. (Also, you know. Unless you're licking your hem, your skirts cannot get you sick.)

Either you're getting only the experiences of women who hated what they wore before- which would somehow be the same fashion writers who once declared that the gowns of 1915 were the best, or 1910, or 1905 -or they had a vested interest in selling something to the public: in this case, the hottest, newest clothes (and hairstyles that required more regular trips to the hairdresser than long hair pinned up). Of course you get those writers calling earlier clothing heavy- they're trying to get people to buy rayon flapper dresses!

Now, does that mean that nobody in history found their clothing heavy? Of course not. One of Amelia Bloomer's key complaints about the fashions of the 1840s and early 50s was the many layers of petticoats women often wore to create the fashionable skirt shape- and while I'm often loath to take dress reformers as sole arbiters of women's opinion, the invention of the cage crinoline/hoop skirt was widely hailed as a marvel for enabling big skirts with much less weight.

But you're so right that this perception is extremely exaggerated nowadays. I do my best to fight it- had this conversation with a colleague today, as I was wearing a long-sleeved blouse of cotton voile and a long cotton skirt to work in 80-degree (F) weather -but. Well. It DOES get frustrating at times.

[crybaby-bkg]

I thought about this earlier but couldn’t fully piece it together but like…………model Bakugou, or even pro Bakugou who does his contractual obligations of modeling, and being his photographer for a shoot. it’s a more raunchy one, his breakout shoot to show he’s as x rated as they come. and they get you to capture him, set up the scene and find the props because you’re known for your amazingly styled ideas and sets every time.

one scene where he’s laid back in bed, surrounded by black silken sheets that he balls in between one of his thick hands. the other arm is behind his head, propped up on two fluffy pillows, his chin tilted up where you snap pictures above him on a ladder. one leg is kicked out, flexed, and the other is bent at the knee. the best part about the whole thing is that he’s naked—or at least, alluded to be. he’s covered in orange and green flower petals (that he protested the entire time) around his waist and down to his thick thighs. the pictures you take from this angle are damn near lewd, with how he pouts his bottom lip and gives those fuck me eyes to the camera.

another scene is him in just his underwear, tight and white in color, makes your face warm whenever you catch the faint sight of his brown tip through the fabric. but you direct him to turn his back to you, hold up the lightweight prop of the world in his hands, bend at the knee, rest it on his shoulders. it’s not as raunchy as the other pics, despite your eyes immediately jumping to his plump ass, but the pics still make you hot under the collar when you edit them.

other scenes include capturing him at a bathroom counter with sex hair, a makeup painted on hickey on his neck, and low eyes aimed at the camera. include him laying on his stomach with his face in his hands, a single carmine eye peeking out, with the tiniest smile you managed from him after the shittiest joke. you realize later, that he only laughed because he was starting to grow fond of you, which was made apparent after you finished his pictures and sent them to his team.

he texted you the next morning, tell me more of your shitty jokes and I’ll let you photograph me again. it’s his way of flirting, you guessed, but still found yourself googling the top fifty corniest jokes ever told.

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD: stargirl 3x10 (through 11 I guess since it happens at night), crusher OR paula live but you can't choose both (and you can decide how long they live for).

(again, massive spoilers for season 3)

The blank television screens spat static, making the whole room, the floor still littered with the end of the flyer trail, seem to writhe. 

A footstep, just one, echoed, and Paula and Crusher both understood, in that single heartbeat, that they'd walked right into a trap.

Paula grabbed Crusher's arm and spun him out of the way as the stranger's blade--no, not blade--pierced through her lightweight Jacket. They were dressed for an early fall jog, not a fight. They'd stopped dressing for a fight three months ago. Crusher stared at her, then past her, then back.

"Tap out," she said, and he understood.  He hated it, but that was the life they lived. Had lived. 

It wasn't cowardice. It wasn't running away. It wasn't abandoning his wife. 

It still felt like all those things as he shoulder checked the man he'd once thought of as the most decent of his former coworkers, feeling the cold of Jordan's iced over skin bite through his damp jacket. He ran for the hall, for the ladder rungs. 

Paula was dying.  They'd all seen what Jordan's ice could do to a person. Wizard had been frozen from the inside out. Dozens of their [former] enemies had been turned to nothing more than frozen fragments, scattered on the wind like flurries or swept away like glass. There was nothing staying would do but get them both killed, and leave their family unwarned.

Nothing but making sure she didn't die alone.

The manhole cover turned bright white with ice as he heaved it over the opening, blocking Jordan's attack. He'd been winded from the jog, and his fingers were numb. He still managed to pull out his phone, hit the button for redial with his nose. 

Artemis picked up fast. " Dad? I thought you and mom were--"

"Sweetheart," Crusher said, not looking over his shoulder for the same reason he didn't just stay down there and die. There was no point in trying to fight the inevitable. " Out of the house, now. Go to Pat. Tell him Icicle's back. Stay with Stargirl and the team. I'm on my way."

"You and mom?" He heard Artie scrambling, the tell tale sounds of her gathering up her hockey stick and clattering down the stairs to the kitchen.

He couldn't say it.  It was bad enough knowing it. "We love you. Go, tell Pat, now."

The cold burned his arm, spreading now across his chest, getting into his lungs. Two blocks. He could run two blocks. Pat would know what to do, how to save him.

If there was anything left to save.  

[wonderlandhatter]

Repost from my deleted old account because this is one of my most favourite moodboards and idea.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ok but moving in with Spencer and its just the cosiest ever. I imagine you both have a rule to have one date night a week, it isn't a set day because that's just not realistic but you always have one.

And it isn't always something fancy a lot of the time is just being together like playing board games and you like making him play the silly games like snakes and ladders because there is no strategy or maybe you bring him into the world of art and how relaxing it is so you have watercolour dates qhich deff ends with both of you having made bookmarks for eachother.

Sometimes you like to read the same book at the same time, it makes you feel close to eachother qhile far away and maybe you just cuddle while one reads to the other or you both read in silence but together.

And drunk /strip scrable deff happens if it's a drinking kind of date you know. You are both lightweights so it really doesn't take much lol

And maybe the drunker you get the sillier the words get and you decide to play made up word scrable because you're convinced he's making them up but he always has a definition so you start making words and definitions up and he just thinks it's adorable.

And it's giggly and fun and the dates always end with some giggly soft dancing around your sitting room while his old record plays.

[eightyuh]

Hello, it's me again! I wanted to ask- Oh wait, here he comes. Nevermind.

"YES! It is I... RACIFUS! THE MAGNIFICENT!"

... Nobody calls you that.

"Bah, shut up! And it is you... Glendale Goodwyn. The retired warrior. A man who once gave his life and power to his kingdom... but now he must find a new life, as he cannot give what is gone! Unless he finds a way to return to his previous self, of course... but can we truly go back to the ways things were? Well, who knows!"

"It will be interesting to see how your story unfolds. I have been and will be watching your adventures, yes. I prefer to lurk in the shadows of others' stories, and leave mine untold. Ah, but that's enough about me."

"I understand that our last interaction was... unfavorable. The arachnids were... in poor taste, I believe."

Anything else you'd like to say about that?

"...? Oh! Yes, I am sorry. I will not cast that spell upon you again. Most likely. Unless I forget."

Sigh

"To apologize, I'd like to bestow upon you... A GIFT! Nothing too large, I promise, eehehee."

"Huzzah! A ladder! Specially designed, just for you! Lightweight, extendable, and enchanted to ensure it remains stable and does not fall as you climb. To help you reach places by yourself that you could not before!"

(It might look a tad bit small for Glen, but thats because I underestimated how big 6 inches was when i was drawing lol)

"You do not have to accept my gift, of course. It is your choice. I just wish to see how you will use or not use it, is all."

"And with that, I bid you farewell! Until we meet again... eehehehehee!"

[Interesting... what will you do with this gift?]

(sorry for the big ask, i had a sudden bout of inspiration and i figured I might as well use it as an excuse to practice drawing. It will happen again (as long as i have your permission i don't want to be too weird))

[toxinoire]

So I've been thinking...

What if Heathers was a scheme? An elaborate plan created by Veronica, the Heathers, Betty and Martha?

Because I remember in the musical, JD smells the drain cleaner yet still gives it to Heather Chandler. Meaning the smell was faint.

Or there wasn't a smell, because it wasn't drain cleaner.

Okay, so hear me out.

The six of them have been friends since they were freshmen. The Heathers are starting to be popular because ✨rich kids✨

H³ + V have been dating since sophomore year.

They realized how shitty the school system is and how bad everything outside of their rooms are. But of course, until they're adults, they can't do shit about the outside world.

Yet school is within their reach.

So, here's how it worked.

As the Heathers became more and more popular, everyone would try to get close to the three to gain popularity, creating the social ladder. To maintain popularity, everyone would bully the "weak", Martha, Betty and Ronnie included. The adults don't care so school became hell.

The six of them plan to stop it.

They decided to pretend to go with the flow to see how far every student would take it.

Which led to Kurt and Ram learning to rape and other terrible things.

They needed to do something, but they would need a clueless puppet to do so. A person with no morals.

A person who does terrible things with no regrets. A person beyond redemption. They are not recruiting this one, they'll be using this one.

Fast forward to senior year.

Veronica has done her research and learned that the son of Big Bud Dean, a man who was accused of physical assault, yet was let go due to lack of evidence.

Jason Dean, a boy who had a bad reputation of violence among his peers. Students from previous schools complained about how he's manipulative yet no one took it that seriously. There was an instance he almost killed a student, but he wasn't sued.

Perfect.

They talked it out and came to the agreement that someone will have to get close to him to learn more.

And that became Veronica.

In order for this to work, Veronica had to be a popular girl. Uphold the image of "I'm popular but I'm more human than all of you" to get his attention. So Veronica became a Heather.

It happens like the movie, during the lunch time poll, she conversed with JD, pretended to look like she was into him. Which led to Kurt and Ram approaching him and the fight happens. JD pulls the blank gun on Kurt and Ram.

Sign 1 that this boy is dangerous.

The croquet scene we see in the musical where Heather Chandler acts like a bitch to Ronnie and Duke is staged because Veronica's parents are within their earshot.

Everything they say that the public hears that make them look shitty are practiced.

One could say their school is a theatre and they're the ones pulling the strings for the acts.

So we get to Freeze Your Brain where Veronica indulges him into a conversation and learns his backstory. Understandable, yet not justifiable. Of course, Heather Chandler walks in and says her lines.

In the car, the two talk about it. Then they decide to test the boy. Veronica has to mess up at the party to see how far JD could go. If JD really is someone who'd kill someone all because he can and not regret it, they'll have to be prepared.

The party happens and it goes as it does during Big Fun. Again, these are all scripted acts of theirs.

Veronica is by no means, a lightweight. But you can smell the alcohol from her. So when she goes into JD's room (The Heathers were fine with this knowing it's a show) and Dead Girl Walking happens, it proved that he is willing to take advantage of someone. Mind you, Veronica MAY have known what she was doing, she was still ever so clearly drunk. The fact that JD did not stop it and let it happen WILLINGLY says a lot.

Sign 2 that he's dangerous.

Now you couldn't say they "fucked" it was more they had little clothing on and Veronica was the one in control so it extremely quick but of course, JD had his d!ck t0uch3d so he considers it a fuck.

Morning came and Veronica telling JD that she needs to apologize to Heather Chandler.

"By the way, you were my first." A lie. The Heathers were obviously.

Heather Chandler asked for the prairie oyster because that was the script they followed.

They hid the REAL drain cleaner and JD didn't know.

So when HC drinks it, she pretends to fall and die. She wore a kimono specifically, one that's a little bigger than her to avoid showing that she's still breathing.

Veronica says her lines and JD convinces her of the fake suicide note.

Sign 3.

The police officers were H³ + V, Betty and Martha's accomplices. My idea is that Veronica has an older sister who is also an anarchist and went with their plan, and is lowkey kinda proud that Veronica is following her footsteps.

The events I'm basing off are mostly the musical to make it longer so there was no HC funeral. She was in the hospital "recovering". The doctor also works for Veronica's older sis.

So Blue/You're Welcome. The HD and HM's moment to enter the curtain.

Again, getting Veronica there (and being stone cold bitches if Blue) was scripted. Kurt and Ram being rapists aren't but they expected it.

So in the movie, JD coerced Duke to taking the scrunchy. In the musical, she did it herself. So this is a mix mix sitch.

JD "convinces" her to take the scrunchy by blackmail (that HD and Martha purposefully left out) and she takes the scrunchy from HC's locker.

Kurt and Ram were the ones who spread the rumors. They knew beforehand. So they tasked HD (and HM if Blue) to make it worse.

Veronica cried on command for this one so JD could see.

Cue Our Love Is God.

She knew, they all knew JD would try to kill Kurt and Ram. They didn't mind that.

Kurt and Ram are rapists and they don't regret what they've done one bit. They brag about raping, so they were fine with them dying.

Veronica acts like she's clueless. JD tries to lovebomb her which she pretends to succumb to.

And here's sign 4.

Cue Dead Gay Son.

Now Seventeen, which once again, staged.

Veronica and Martha's interaction after that? Staged. Veronica said that within JD's earshot. They needed to let him think that he's got Veronica under his control.

Then Shine a Light.

And Lifeboat.

Which was staged, but also wasn't.

HM talking was staged. What she said was real.

HM already had terrible mental health so HD making fun of her might've been scripted, what the other students said is what hurt her. It ran through her head over and over. It's why she ran.

Veronica admitting her crimes was a test they pulled on everyone to see how'd they react once HD said that anyone would say anything to be more popular.

"Just like McNamara." Said HD, as she looked into Veronica's eyes, silently telling her to follow the girl yellow. Because she truly looks hurt.

Veronica got the memo and went after HM.

So Shine A Light Reprise.

Veronica tells HM that maybe they should pause their plan first to help her heal but HM told Veronica it's fine.

After a long conversation Veronica decided to go through with the plan.

After learning what happened HD couldn't stop apologizing even though HM constantly told her that she wasn't hurt by her words but the other students'.

Martha on the other hand overheard Veronica and HM's conversation. So she realized that for this plan to work, someone has to get hurt.

Physically.

Actually, almost DIE.

Because to get the school to realize how they treat others is only when someone gets hurt.

So she calls Betty and tells her the idea. Betty of course tries to talk Martha out of it but she caved in because Martha was insistent.

So Kindergarten Boyfriend is her written suicide note. The note she gave Betty was her plan.

She couldn't reach Veronica so the ones who knew at the time were her, HC and HD.

Cue I Say No. Veronica wants to see how JD would take it and what he would do to get her back, because she knows what happened.

The lines before Yo Girl was said in the way it was to keep the act, but HD's eyes were saying something different.

See, when she handed HM the "petition" it wasn't the petition JD made her make the student body sign. It was the note Martha gave Betty.

THAT'S why Yo Girl happens.

Now JD is in Veronica's room. Veronica is hiding in the closet. What should she do now? How are they-

Then JD mentions the bomb.

That's it. That's how she'll end it. She finally sees the final picture.

So Martha doing what she did would be kind of worth it.

So she pretends to kill herself and we get the first verse and first Chorus (only that) of Dead Girl Walking Reprise.

Because the fight happened the way it did in the movie.

But the bomb is still on, which Veronica forgot about. So she had to take it outside.

But she sees JD get up to try and follow her.

So she still takes the bomb out but with the intention of JD blowing up instead.

I Am Damaged happens but differently. We don't hear Veronica say "Oh my g0d, wait hold on, not this way" we only hear JD.

Veronica takes out a cigarette and behind her, HD, Betty and Martha walk by the door watching them, smirk and walk back to the pep rally to signal HM thats it's almost over.

Then HC enters stage right, leaning against a tree within JD's sight, smirking. JD's eyes widen as he realizes that he wasn't the one in control.

The bomb is at 6 seconds.

"Say hi to God."

Aaaaaaannnnnnddddd Seventeen Reprise.

It happens as it does at West End, wherein HD takes Ronnie's hand.

And there it is.

The final act is over.

~~~~

So opinions???

[corvidsindia]

Explore Reliable Telescopic Ladders at Great Prices

[equalonline]

Equal 18 FT. Aluminium Folding Telescopic Ladder for Home & Outdoor

Introducing the Equal 18 FT. Aluminium Folding Telescopic Ladder, is the perfect tool for any home or outdoor project. With its heavy-duty 6063 T5-Grade aluminum construction and stable square rungs, this ladder is built to last. The sleek silver color adds a touch of sophistication to any workspace. Its impressive open size of 18 feet(48L x 9W x 594H Cm) and folding size of 3.7 Feet(48L x 9W x 113H Cm) make it easy to store and transport, while the 150-weight capacity ensures safety and stability. Plus, the ladder features a self-locking mechanism that keeps your fingers safe and speeds up retraction time. Get yours today and make any project a breeze!

Product details

Material & Color: Heavy-Duty 6063 T5-Grade Aluminum Construction; Square Rungs For Supporting, Make This Folding Ladder Stable And Durable with Sliver Color.

Size & Capacity: Open-Size: 18 Feet(48L x 9W x 594H Cm), Folding-Size: 3.7 Feet(48L x 9W x 113H Cm), Item-Weight: 15Kg., Capacity: 150Kg.

Self-Locking Feature: While Guaranteeing Quality, Our Telescoping Aluminum Ladder Also Has a One-Button Retraction Function. Simply Press The Thumb Buttons, and This Ladder Will Descending Smoothly From Its Unfolded Condition To Compact Size, So Convenient.

EN131 Safety Standard: Meets `EN131` Safety Standard Certificate with Satisfaction Guaranteed with Non-Slip Square Rungs And Supporting Tubes, Contact Professional Customer Service Before And After Purchase If You Have Any Issues Or Concerns. Customer Friendly 1-Year Warranty Against Manufacturing Defects.

Assembly Instruction: No Assembly Required.  Which Can Be Opened And Locked For Changing The Height Of Ladder Easily While Guaranteeing Security.

[ladderstoreco12]

Picking the right Little Giant Ladder for your necessities can be a mind-boggling endeavor.

[maskedcop10]

AI Credited by CBRTALOS

The tender prepared Steve for this dive in the city's harbor. Steve, a former diver in the Navy, was now working for this dive company and he liked it. Every day he could wear his rubber gear and breathing systems. Steve went to inspect pipelines at the bottom of the harbor. Steve liked wearing the special mask that this suit had, normally they were the lightweight masks, but this mask was his favorite. It looked more like a gas mask. When all the hoses for his breathing systems were connected, the tender gave a thumbs up and Steve put on his big black rubber fins. Two divers were already working below, so Steve would join them. Steve climbed down the ladder that gave excess water. He felt the pressure of the water against his thick rubber suit. It always gave him a hard-on. Then he dove under the water and slowly swam to the bottom to see what his buddies were doing.

[tothepointofinsanity]

Pre-Grief Syndrome: Pertinence-salad of Waterbaths

Or: A little mermaid gains her scales.

You could start this literature with a simple remark that blue is the colour of your eyes, and therefore the colour of your Soul, and what dyed your Soul, would, realistically, be coolly associated with your environment; that science of thriving and what society believes.

See, with this line of this-and-that, you found any commentary on such matters have always felt...prosaic, in the sense of commercials placating the consistency of blue skies and palm beaches. Your relatives once held the tips of your hair between their fingers, rubbing it like powder, and the spoken sentiment to follow had always been rather extreme - how blue your hair is, Miki-san, I'm sure your classmates envy you, right?

Recently, memories of the past seem to return in waves, and fade faster than seafoam. Your heart tickles, and at first you think you brushed your Soul Gem a little too tightly, but when your mind draws the past in poor photographs of exposure flairs obscuring faces of what-should-be relatives (family or friends? but either way, they don't seem too memorable now) in the sunset of playgrounds and you curled up besides the running stream dividing the neighborhood sector, you tilt your head to the side, a hypnic jerk between Living and Nonexistence.

(Recently, you start to forget things just a little faster, and each effort to recall even this fresh sting seems to snowball with challenge.)

You are not disturbed by this.

Try as you might, even if you clench your teeth and stand in the middle of the room with your curtains drawn, the low simmer in your body to reach out and encase what little valuable past you recollect burns passion's last, embers of a fire preserved only in the crumbling end of a cigarette. Soon, like itself, you will be discarded and crushed under a heel, completely put-out; nothing personal of the sort, of course (this you know, and this you think), but a matter of moving onto a fresh stick. You contribute in a falling ladder as another rung to be temporarily stepped on. The locomotive which steadily chugged its merry way has derailed into the sea.

Sometimes you see fish swimming in your vision, ghostly fins and tails waving in front of your face, a school of beckoning. When you sleep, your body aches under the dry blast of air conditioning, and you always fall in your dreams the same way you used to practice diving into pools at mandated swimming classes. You yearn for that which will end you, inexorably.

(Do you have any idea how much she has sacrificed to keep you happy?)

The passengers are drowning. You don't know who they are, and you can't feel much for them except for instinctive pity. Second nature had become reflex, misery and its company taking form of familiar (why are they...familiar? Why is she...familiar?) dancers pirouetting around your overcast self.

"There you are."

I'm expiring, you want to tell her, but you cannot even grace her any response. You stand there, in the rain, where your vision has narrowed into a tunnel and faces become even more blurry. Are you underwater? You certainly feel like it. Your body is lightweight - how strange a sensation, when corpses are generally heavy. You raise a hand, not of your own will, but still motorised by a turning heart, a resilient wound-up key, and you close your ears. Of course, everything feels dull and muffled even in the blade of lightning's storm. Puddles gather around your feet, and you don't need to look to know your uniform is soaked, practically a sponge for the wrath of nature.

Still, you stand, if only slightly crooked, over the box of a stray cat in the alleyway, your other hand gripping the umbrella above the animal to prevent it from getting wet.

(Your hand hurts. You don't feel it. Your last bit of good will, and there is a foul 'feeling' when you think that.)

You did it because you can. It seems that your brain is electrified by arbitrary nodes now, a ghostly remnant of something that has upstaged all logic. It reminded you, distantly, of that little newspaper article of fish moving after they're served to the table for consumption.

The cat mewls at you, but you just stare at it, unmoving.

"Hey, what are you doing?" A hand lands on your shoulder. You don't react, at first, when you don't know who this girl is, you decided, even if her eyes reminded you of warm fireplaces and a red eye bearing judgement-

You flinch, battering her hand away.

"...Stop standing under the rain, you idiot. You're going to catch a cold."

But there's water, you want to protest, blue sparkles tinkle the illusionary air, the sound of a violin's drawl in the background, where else could I possibly be?

Even your arms itch, then. You're not sure if you watch to reach out to That Girl or lay them by your side, the corpse to the coffin. Instead, you hug yourself gingerly, not in response to the humid weather, but because they burn. You want to submerge yourself into a tub. There is a tub at home. You want to go home. Rain alone is inadequate to melt the burning frost creeping up on your skin.

"Sayaka! Your hands!" That Girl reaches out, trying to tend to those luminous, rotting scales, but her touch worsens it, like flame to the wings of a moth. Your eyes flutter shut, turning away. Scales, malodorous, oily scales of blue and yellow and ink black flourish a bright, misty rainbow in raindrops.

"Tell me what's going on!"

"Water," you croak out, your voice deeper and distorted than you remembered it to be, "I need water. I want to take a bath."

(I definitely won't regret it!)

And for moment's end, That Girl just looks around. You want to smile, and the muscles of your lips twitch a smidgen in effort despite the vacancy of your eyes. You know that your body remembers something that your mind does not - a brief thought occurs to you that she thinks she can find a bucket wide enough to keep your feet within it for a while. You don't understand why she bothers, and why she bothers with such vulgar methods. A bucket of water would hardly sustain contain you.

(You needed something better. Something that feels like home (what was it that drove you to these depths as the concert undulates with grace?: the ocean.)

"Let's go," she doesn't touch you, doesn't question you, this time, opting to keep a close distance from you as you limp away (since when did your feet feel so heavy on land?), leaving the umbrella against the cat's box.

Even as you know you'll forget it eventually, that sentiment, that sound of rain, that headless flame, you focus on the comfort of slipping into a bath of water at home, surrounded by porcelain walls painted with curling waves and seagulls soaring permanently over them.

Soon there will hail grief — but just before the warned stroke of midnight, you continue to brush scales off your skin, tap water rippling seafoam with each push.