#also i can afford weights and cranks

[krawdad]

Thank you kevin defunctland pergurer a 2 hour video on the history of animatronics is exactly what I needed

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Chapter 9: I Don't Know If I Can Do It

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.

Chapter 8 // Masterlist // AO3 Version // Gif Credit // Chapter 10

“Well done,” You said as you handed Chance two twenty pound notes and sent them on their way.

Čiernik neutralised and Shepherd’s fate in the wind, the debrief was long over. Both teams had waited for you and Price, but only Price would be joining them. Part of you wanted to hear the war stories from the 141, really catch up. Then your stomach flared up and your eyes threatened to steam up and you remembered how fragile you’d let yourself get over this calendar month.

Bronze - still conked out on meds - demanded that someone have his drink for him, so you weren’t the only one missing out. Tonight, you’d spend your time numbing your ribs and hidden away.

A naughty mood plagued your mind, a naughty and self-destructive mood that cranked open a trunk of memories concerning the good old days that Price might’ve brought up via his reappearance in his life. You groaned over being at a point in your life where your twenties were “the old days”.

That naughty mood consumed your thoughts with flashbacks you hadn’t considered for years, even since realising Price was alive. Routine for your training years was what was currently playing. Two pints into a night out, you and John used to arm wrestle – an excuse to hold his hand on your part as well as an excuse to display how much you’d been working out – over a sticky table and damp bevy napkins. If the place had a karaoke machine (like your first local did), you’d always sing “Losing My Religion” like you were trying to convince each other of your perspective. Not once did you look at the screen for the words. You would put it on the jukebox if there was no karaoke, create your own jam session that would result in a warning about getting barred.

First time John convinced you to sing with him, he had his hand on your shoulder and stared intensely at you with his forehead to yours as he sang matter-of-factly, if a little unclear due to the cider. You, on the other hand, giggled through each lyric at how overwhelmed by how his steadfast cornflower eyes held you on that stage, losing yourself in the final chorus and getting cut off by your colleague, dragged home by the collar of your shirt and insisting you weren’t that bad, John egging you on all the while.

Difficult emotions bubbled like the beer you used to drink, forming a cathartic yet strangled cry in your throat as you opened the door to your temporary room. You were too injured to wear yourself out with some exercise. That was your usual cure for avoiding uncomfortable thoughts, the energy expelled causing you to pass out without any struggle of tossing and turning – or of nightmares. Even though you were absent of any gear, or your weighted blanket back at your base, to ground you into a mattress, your ribs would’ve complained the entire night. So today you were forced to recognise that the cork on your anxiety was coming loose, and the presence of Price – paired with your lovestruck Sergeants – was the equivalent of shaking the bottle. 

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself with a hard sniff.

The expletive offered a mild release of emotion, staving off the crying for a little longer. Long enough to raid the medical wing for some more disposable ice packs, long enough to get caught red-handed and by none other than the main cause of your pain.

“You’re back early,” You remarked as if you weren’t using your shirt as a makeshift basket for icepacks.

Price pushed a hand through his hair, smoothing it out whilst stuffing his beanie into his coat pocket, “Had my fill. The boys were insisting it was because I was getting old.”

“You’re not old. ‘Cus if you are, then I am too, and I’m not old.”

“Course not,” Price said wryly. Then he gestured to your haul, “Need a hand?”

Already, he was approaching you and – against your better judgement – you let him scoop a couple out before you both headed back to your room.

Holding your nerve, you made an attempt to be blasé: “Don’t suppose you had a sing-song at the pub?”

“No. Haven’t since I lost my duet partner.”

You winced around the corner, hoping Price would take it in response to your injuries. He must’ve done, for he didn’t allow any silence to linger on his remark:

“Played a few sessions of Shithead to determine whose round it was. You got any other plans for tonight?”

You crushed and placed a pack onto your ribs whilst John opened your door, letting you in first as you replied, “Just lie in a pile of these.”

Price’s hum with approval was masked beneath the bed creak as you carefully placed yourself on the edge of it, your chin in your hand, whilst you awkwardly iced your back. Your eyes closed without considering the extra person in the room, yet you took note of the mattress waning beneath their weight and refused to be shocked by the calloused fingertips that touched over the condensation on your hand.

“Here,” Price said, his voice low in volume and tone.

Fingers slipping out of his gentle hold, you let Price take over holding the icepack against your side. His other hand squeezed your corresponding shoulder, thumbing out the knots on that side of your spine – and there were a lot of knots. Needless to say, you were not expecting this, nor were you expecting to crave this kind of treatment until you found yourself sitting up straighter, following Price’s hand whenever it adjusted its grip on your taut muscles.

Clearing your throat, you opened your eyes, “You always made fun of me for my spa days.”

“Well, I’ve matured now,” John said quietly, his thumb digging around the edge of your left shoulder blade, “Enough to understand the value of a back rub – maybe a good bath bomb too.”

Laughter that coughed and clogged up your throat erupted from you. A tear splashed between your spread legs, leaving a little mark on the thin rug. Another ran through the same track and slipped down your face faster. That laughter slipped into sniffles fairly quickly after that.

Price’s hands stilled, “Did I hurt you?”

You sniffed and shook your head. You massive liar.

Very easily, John could’ve just offered you a tissue from the box on the bedside table. Instead, he moved to kneel in front of you, and he went to cup your face. Tilting your head away, you pushed his hands down.Temptation was enticing you to rest your forehead against his for just a second, how it would heal all torment he’d caused you – inadvertently and otherwise. You knew this was beyond a slippery slope. It was a straight drop down a crevasse with the bottom masked by fog. Shaking your head, you looked to your bedside lamp instead of him.

Without forcing you to look at him, John spoke, “I know I’ve got no right to ask you. But I’m a selfish man.”

Stubborn, yes. Ruthless, agreed. Cold. At times. But you’d never describe Jonathan Price as selfish. Not until now, at least. You realised you were still holding his hands away, a light grip he could’ve escaped from easily but hadn’t. Your face crumpled on itself and more tears fell, your head knocking against John’s as he lowered himself to his knees between your own

“Even just a scrap of that time to apologise, properly – now I know you’ve said you’re okay with what happened, but I’m not-”

His hands curved around your wrists. There, his thumb traced over your wrist where your pulse jumped under your Viking helmet tattoo – the one he argued wasn’t accurate because it didn’t have horns.

That night you got it, he’d jeered with a beer in his hand, “I should know; it’s my damn call-sign!”

You had been so drunk on his company but so jilted by his accusation that you were prepared to cross the country with him there and then to retrieve your GCSE History certificate and wave it in his face as you declared that Vikings never actually had horns on their helmets. But then you would’ve lost your spot at the parlour, and you really liked that tattoo artist’s style so you had a juvenile John sat beside you, mumbling under his breath how wrong you were to wind him up.

Your brimming tears shocked you back to the present day, having ignored most of John’s apology in favour of reminiscing of when things felt easier.

You tuned in to the end of his speech: “I kept you in the dark and lost you. I’m sorry for that and the pain I’ve caused you. I don’t expect anything. But we’re on borrowed time already. I don’t wanna waste any more of it.”

At that, you snatched your wrists back, for his words had breathed new life into the anger you convinced yourself was dormant. “We could’ve had all the time in the world, but you left me! Why did you leave me? Don’t patronise me with the “I wanted to protect you” shit. Why didn’t you come back for me?”

And you broke down sobbing, gasping for breath as your head lolled in shame, your neck and gut rife with rile. You’d never felt so pathetic, weeping over him like this after saying it was all okay. Nothing was okay. You wanted all the years of your mourning back. You wanted them back and your John back too.

He was looking upon you with pain pinching in his brow, and his voice was as gentle as he could be: “Because I’d pick you over everything.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to leave for me!”

“You wouldn’t have to. You never did.”

God, you wanted Chance or Ghost to use you as a punching bag to block out this agony that wracked your entire body with the vines of grief. Worse still, John’s honesty struck worse than any condescending comment he could’ve conjured. It told you all you needed to know about him, and it asked you something new about yourself: if he asked you to leave team Banshee, would you? Your hesitance frightened you to your core, and you know it did the same to John and his commitment to the 141.

“I’m so sorry I took you for granted, that I never came back for you. I’ll spend my life and the next making it up to you. And at the moment all I can offer you is when our leave aligns, a flat by the Mersey, and a bottle of bourbon. But I’ll give you all I am, all of it.” John sealed his promise with a kiss to your forehead,“I’ll be behind whatever you want to do about this.”

The vines were wrapping around John now, constricting you two together, interlocking your bodies together until your anguished lips found his. He tasted like the mint he’d sucked on during his walk back to base.John’s stubbled chin grated as if your face wasn’t melting with tears, desperate to print onto him. Your irreverent fingers ploughed through his cropped hair, too short to hold onto. Teeth pressed uncomfortably together. You couldn’t picture any of the romantic whirlwinds you’d conjured on lonely nights in times gone by; your mind only allowed you to take in how you and John clawed at each other, as if a loose enough grip would lose him to you forever.

As your tears blurred your sights, the truth came clear in your mind. Through an exhale that tremoured like a needle on a gauge, you pushed away from him and heaved out, “I can’t take the trying to get on without you again, I can’t. I can’t go to your funeral again. Don’t make me.”

And how you begged him, when you knew he couldn’t guarantee you a damn thing.

John’s misty eyes clung to your form without breaking contact once as he swore, “I won’t.” He renewed the vow to every plea you made, each one a plate of glass placed around you two until you were surrounded by the fragile promises that would shatter as soon as one of you left the room.

He kissed you again, simple and sweet like nothing else in your lives. You finally touched him with those hands you’d killed with, cradling his jaws as your noses slanted together, chests levitating both your bodies up and down in asynchronous panting.

But even as you felt his touch prickle across your goose-pimpled skin, the rest of your truth pushed out of your mouth and into his:

“I wanted to forgive you, I really did. But I can’t.”

Your sobbing ceased the second you finished speaking, nothing but your wrecked breathing and tears left behind in the shock that you’d finally said it. In its wake, you were faced with John’s broken expression as he stared unmoving at you. His lips parted with a shuddering and short exhale. In that moment, you knew then that he thought you would forgive him. All you could respond with was a touch of your hand to his cheek in an offer of little comfort when you repeated yourself:

“I can’t.”

John’s eyes flickered but still did not blink, as if you would vanish the second he dared not to keep you in his sights. Nowhere in those eyes did you see him imploring you to change your mind. He simply reeled in the agony of reality crashing into dreams, splintering them beyond repair. You looked, really looked, past the youths you used to be. Borrowed time indeed, in your line of work, the flecks of grey in John’s beard and minute scars in his skin hinted at what remained of his life.

You decided to let yourself yearn for your history one more time.

“But can we…” You wiped your nose and sniffed, “Can we pretend, for the next few hours, that I have forgiven you?”

John swallowed and nodded. His eyes were wet, but he released nothing until you kissed him again, and you felt the first splash from where his cheek bumped yours, salt soaking together.

Trembling and keeping your lips to his, you removed John’s watch and touched over the nerve diagram, your not-so-matching tattoos. Your fingertips treaded along where his pulse ran on tracks through thick hairs and collected the sleeves as they went. Forming fists, you tugged at the bunched-up fabric, gently at first, then growing rapidly impatient, soon grappling with his shirt just as his tongue made an intrepid entrance in your mouth. An intrusive hand beside your injured ribs spun you around and into his lap, John now perched beside where you’d been, his shirt somewhere else. He was holding on tightly, and you were scratching his furred chest too harshly, the kiss clunky and incoherent.

Grief was forcing its way back up your throat, rejecting this attempt to compel reconciliation. Your last ditch effort to keep it at bay made you press your lips hard against hard down his neck until your broken cries were bleated against his collarbones.

John’s agitated chest kept you trapped with his arms warped around you. His trembling tongue whispered over and over “I’m sorry” beside your ear, his intentions clear but muddied by the impact of his words, stabbing you in your heart with every repetition.

Mustering enough energy to hold yourself together, you shut him up with your mouth on his, determined to make this easier for you both. Smoothing out his sticking-up hair did precious little to conjure the comfort you were seeking. Your face slid away from his in the rush of tears pouring down John’s face like rain on a car window. Resigned, you slumped against his chest, letting your breathing hiccup in your aching chest. John drew you back into his arms, applying an icepack to your side as he somehow manoeuvred you both under the blankets. At least he wasn’t apologising anymore.

You began phasing between light sleep and wake. Though you were roused from sleep by your ribs, each time the vines’ grip he held you in squeezed intermittently and kept you safe in a bubble whilst acting as if you weren’t in these impersonal quarters, maybe even in that apartment he mentioned. A few times, both of you were awake, having moved away to the far edges of the bed in your soporific turmoil. He returned to you every time and did just as you asked: pretended that this you could have each other like this, every night past the sunrise.

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“When I next wake up, I want you gone.”

Silence for a minute. And then:

“Ok.”

-------------------

AN: Black Viking was an access code for Captain Price, so I reworked it as a callsign for this fic - though it's more like "Viking" as the callsign.

Thank you for your patience with the uploads! Only two chapters more to go! Thank you also @bunnyreaper for being a Beta on this chapter <3

Tag-list: @mockerycrow and @algor-babe

[squid-ink-symphony]

f1sh and chips headcanons?

IVE BEEN PREPARING FOR THIS MOMENT MY WHOLE LIFE

HARMONY:

Nonbinary and kinda indifferent on their gender. Goes by She/They. Doesn't really care if you use other pronouns for them tho.

Aromantic and a lesbian. Is still ok with labeling a relationship as dating even if she doesn't experience romantic love the same way as other people.

Autistic, and doesn't always function super well as an adult on her own. But she's doing her best.

Collects stuffed animals and small toys.

Likes cute things, but some people would label their definition of cute as weird.

Loves bright colors. Crank that saturation up!

Very blunt.

Gets along pretty well with her bandmates. They aren't SUPER close but they are friends.

Knows she is different. Doesn't care. It probably used to bother them more when they were younger, but now she has come to terms with it.

House is very messy.

People are just drawn to her, she doesn't particularly like it.

A lot of people think that because she is blunt and speaks her mind that she doesn't ever lie and take everything she says at face value. He is very capable of lying and will do so for various reasons if needed. Or sometimes just cuz spreading misinformation is funny. Will tell you the sky is bright green with no hesitation and a deadpan expression.

Depressed. Is on medication for it and handles it ok ish...

Video game addict. You can usually find her at home in her pajamas playing some new game surrounded by empty instant ramen cups.

Mostly enjoys creative or cute games like pokemon, animal crossing, or minecraft. Doesn't play them often, but she is the absolute best at fighting games. Could beat anyone blindfolded. Is good at a lot of hard games, but doesn't really like that kind of stuff.

Plays a lot of things as they come out and probably has a blog where she reviews them.

Knows every skip and speedrun strat ever.

Likes platformers, especially 2d ones.

Collects old nintendo consoles/games.

Stims a lot with any object nearby. Likes to play with her bracelets a lot. Will just pick up random things and fidget with them.

Seems to be tired a lot, has bags under her eyes. Stays up late a lot but doesn't mind the lack of energy.

Very clumsy and has poor motor controls for a lot of things. Has to take frequent breaks when playing games or music. Gets hurt a lot bumping into random objects.

Issues with her wrists have been a problem for most of her life due to her hobbies, and she is surprisingly good at taking care of them nowadays. Used to not care but then some serious injuries happened and she realized she couldn't afford to do that.

DEDF1SH:

Bigender! He/She/They probably. Would maybe be open to neos if he found the right ones.

Demiromantic, Bi, and Asexual. Both Acht and Harmony are aspec(not for any reason what no i'm not biased as an aroace person noooo-)

When first getting out of the metro he was VERY malnourished and had a hard time eating food. He has a lot of texture issues and finds most foods unbearable to put in her mouth.

Has since gained her weight back and is looking more healthy.

Is very sensitive to sunlight, and burns very easily even in normal weather with minimal exposure. This is part of the reason she spends so much time alone indoors.

Eyes are also very sensitive to light after being sanitized and living in the deep for so long. This is why he wears sunglasses everywhere.

Is also autistic like harmony. (again, as an autistic person i am in no way biased towards headcanoning characters as autistic ok?) Is sensitive to sounds and wears noise canceling headphones a lot.

Goes nonverbal if overstimulated.

Doesn't talk that much, is more the type to say as few words as possible to get their sentence across.

Likes eating cereal with no milk. It's one of their favorite snacks.

LOVES fruit. They are that meme of the person covered in mango juice.

Just like harmony, his face isn't very expressive. But while harmony always looks like she's daydreaming, Acht often looks angry. This is especially true when she has her glasses on since you can't see her eyes.

Really likes fashion. Likes very femme alternative stuff specifically.

Is already naturally tall, and wears heels everywhere. Towers over most other octolings/inklings.

There are many lasting effects from the sanitization. Including physical and mental symptoms. Acht is slowly recovering tho!

Can play piano, just doesn't. Doesn't remember where they learned to, but it makes them feel slightly sad to play it.

Has amnesia due to the sanitization. Can remember things like skills, but not where they learned them or from who. Doesn't remember much of her past. Doesn't remember much family or friends either. Can picture some blurry faces, but not names or how they knew each other.

Tartar told her about her decision to be sanitized, and she has no choice but to have taken his word for why she decided to due so as she has no memory of it.

Has a hard time adjusting to life on the surface.

Has some trauma surrounding medical equipment, and doesn't like to go to doctors.

I've always Acht having known Marina before coming to the surface, but with Side Order confirming they know each other somehow i will wait to flesh that out until we get more info.

Is confident and somewhat social(especially compared to Harmony) but needs a lot of time to recharge their batteries after being around others.

ParuF1sh:

They both like to make music, and often make silly little songs together. Acht likes to take whatever Harmony hums and turn it into short songs.

Both of them don't sleep much. Harmony doesn't like to because she prefers to spend her time on hobbies n such instead. She also has insomnia, but since she doesn't like sleeping it doesn't really bother her TOO much. Acht on the other hand has issues sleeping due to frequent nightmares. She ends up having terrifying nightmares of her time with tartar or things she can't fully remember from before she was sanitized. Harmony is always there to comfort him when he wakes up sweating and frightened.

Both of them are very picky about food and so their pantries end up being stuffed with lots of their prefered safe foods.

Acht tries to push himself to leave his apartment in splatsville from time to time to avoid being totally disconnected from the world because that's what she did when she first got to the surface and it made her very depressed. On one of those trips Acht ended up visiting Hotlantis because he was just exploring various shops. He really liked the vibes of the shop and the wide variety of items that rotated frequently had him coming back. This is where the two of them first met.

At first Harmony and Acht didn't even notice each other despite Acht becoming a regular to come buy and look at weird little items. But eventually after having to check Acht out so many times she finally started to pay attention to what Acht was buying and noticed they had similar tastes. Then one day Harmony struck up a conversation with Acht and they became friends from there.

I think they are both poly and wouldn't mind if their partner dated someone else. But neither of them have another partner right now.

While they both may struggle with a lot of things they help each other out and manage to get through life ok.

It took a bit for Acht to get back to making music after getting out of the metro.

They like to watch ghibli movies while cuddling for a lot of their dates. They will watch all of them and then just start over with the first one again. I think the movies are comfort media for them. Harmony's favorite movie is Spirited Away and Acht's favorite is Kiki's Delivery Service.

Acht chills with Harmony's fish a lot i think.

Neither of them know how to cook.

Harmony leaves her work spaces very messy, but Acht keeps hers VERY neat.

Acht and Harmony both take surprisingly long to get ready and pick out outfits, but Acht takes much longer than Harmony.

They do a lot of parallel play where they just sit in silence and do their own thing.

Acht hangs out at Hotlantis with Harmony a lot and just keeps their headphones on and chills.

Acht also runs the store when Harmony isn't there.

They both listen to a lot of video game osts and it's probably what Harmony keeps playing in the store as well.

Acht has asked why Harmony doesn't stream playing games, and Harmony just doesn't wanna. She would rather just post reviews.

They swap whos the little spoon depending on the day.

Both of them have terrible sleep schedules.

The first time Acht ever saw a splatfest she was enamored, and now she makes sure to always attend the concerts. Harmony insists on keeping the store open since people are everywhere during splatfests and love to shop. But the floats come through the same streets as the shop, so Acht makes sure to pull her away to watch them at least once. And Harmony loves seeing the music as well.

Neither of them really participate in turf wars. Acht is older than most players and finds it awkward to team up with random teenagers but isn't willing to put together an official team of players her age. But she still likes to take her trusty squiffer out to the practice range to keep her skills sharp. Harmony LOVES to watch her practice.

I was about to go into a whole thing of which team they would pick for each splatfest and why, but i think thats gonna have to be later/if anyone asks for it cuz it may be too long for this post lol

so yeah ill end it there for now. they are my beloveds and i could talk about them forever so feel free to ask questions/send in suggestions/talk about how you view them

here is a goofy doodle i did in 5 mins on my laptop for compensation for reading this far:

[rumade]

Tw for diet culture talk and fatphobia and stuff in that vein

Love it when men who are like 30cm taller than me tell me it's easy for anyone to lose weight and its just calories in calories out and I must secretly be eating loads because its easy to cut cals

DO YOU UNDERSTAND what it is like to be small and female and blessed with a body that happily builds muscle but also holds fat like crazy? Sir on days I cycle to work, work at my desk, and cycle home but don't do additional exercise, I expend an estimated 1500kcal. If i have a bum around day at the weekend where I don't leave the flat with my boyfriend it literally gets estimated as low as 1250.

You wake up, sneeze, and have a wank and somehow crank out 3000kcal. My exercise tracker tells me that on days where I go to work, then after that do a 45min gym class, row 3km in 20min, walk 2.2km home; I don't break 2000kcal

I don't get to eat like a normal human if I want to be a size other than this. But even when I was in Japan! And fucking poor! And having a day a week I wasn't eating, and several days where all I would have would be 3 onigiri, and walking and cycling everywhere and standing at a bar all night... I still didn't get lower than 56kg.

When I was a 21 year old cheerleader and walking everywhere in London because I couldn't afford transport and standing up all day in the art studio... I didn't get lower than 56kg.

I will never ever have skinny arms and legs. They look hefty and they are; but I can flex and you can squeeze, it's nearly all muscle. That's just how I'm built.

I'm so sick of people thinking that it's easy for anyone to be any size or shape they want just with cal in cal out. Absolute bullshit.

[eisiramdeus]

F1LLGRAVES, FOR A PLOTTED STARTER

✯ THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... THERE IS NO FIRE I WOULDN'T WALK THROUGH, NO DESERT I WOULD NOT CUT THROUGH, FOR LOVE, YOUR LOVE, GOD, COUNTRY, AND A FISTFUL OF BLOOD-PINK & GREEN DOLLARS.

It's some fine, cold leather he's got on this couch in Graves' living room, which, he finds, is far more modest than his enterprise affords him. Unassuming. He likes it. A touch of old, homey country for a man constantly tuned to international affairs. LUST FOR VIOLENCE, blood & salarium to be earned abroad, some thirty thousand killers who turn the gears of industry so the boss can afford a nice luster leather couch for me to lie on. It's a good life. Feels like some sort of retirement heaven, I'd done my part, cranked the same well-oiled gears, made it through the kill zone and now living the life.

Leather creaks as he shifts weight around, house cat stretching lazily. It's a good Sunday afternoon with nothing to do except wait on Sir Workalot (it's like Sir Lancelot but the jousting spear is a little smaller) to get out of his little reclusive cave he calls an office. He's put his phone down after teasing him enough in his white jock and submissive secretary play-dating over text. My mom said it's okay if it's okay with yours. I bet yours isn't okay with it, though. Come in anyways, you're almost 50. He's looking real sultry, actually, head and neck comfortably over the armrest, one foot over the opposite armrest, while the other leg dangles off the couch, swaying back and forth gently. Open stance, inviting and shining under the ceiling fan warm light in a hot Texas afternoon.

Steps on hardwood floor, he briefly adjusts himself to be less relaxed and more enticing, waiting for Graves to come into view. Chest and shoulders wide, spread as his hands reach all the way around to the back of his head, resting on them. ❝That was fast.❞ Sarcasm, they had a long conversation on the phone, and it takes a lot to wrench this workhorse away from his laptop, but he's here now, and Alex's playful expression promises to deliver as agreed. Toothy grin, excited, head turns to the side and nods up at the mailed package sitting on Graves' wooden coffee table. Ceremonious about it, he'd wrapped it in plain, dark brown wrapping paper to match the rustic environment, with a spray of his cologne on the natural cotton rope he used to cross around the package, giving it that tied up seal. Don't confuse it for any other kind of tied up seals. That's for later. Grin widens as his eyes return upon Graves after indicating that the little present was for him, white canines eager to bite and play. He is still biting you, by the way. That was no joke. ❝Go on, then. I got it just fer ya.❞ The star of the show, in black leather and stainless steel fittings—built tough, manly, and for the long term. It has a rounded rectangular metal dog tag hanging off the center, ALEX engraved in the front, PHILLIP in the back and his office phone number under it. It could've almost been romantic like wedding bands. Almost. The finishing touch, also leather, but more practical than it is charming. After all, men like their gifts useful, and compliant.

@f1llgraves

[oh-yes-i-did-not]

TODAY on Leo does something with a goal in mind~ I don’t have a mid season coat, like, for spring and fall. The coat one would usually use for those, the light woolly coat, I use for winter. Because I don’t get cold. If I do I just layer an extra shirt under and I’m fine.

BUT anygays, I thought having another coat would be fashionable so I tried to come up something stash busting. And that’s granny squares. All the cotton yarn it can eat, was the idea, but then I got set on a thicker yarn and had to order some more but WHO CARES, I’m making something of it.

And since cotton is pretty good, granny squeres are just full of holes so I need a lining. Two linings, probably. One for just warmth and wind and another for slipperiness and wind. So today I dyed some basic cotton fabric. It might have been a bed sheet in it’s past life. Or a curtain. Or a tablecloth. But in it’s second life it’s now my top lining fabric.

I used a blend of lemon yellow (1/5) and a more orangey yellow (4/5) in 10% of dry weight solution and I could not be happier with the results. The photos kinda mess with it, it’s not that orange. It’s more of a really warm, spicy yellow. And it’s the first time I got results that good, since my (or our, as a class) tests before have failed somewhat, losing most of the colour in rinse. But the secret just seemed to be to keep that temperature on the upper limits of the given range, which was between 50 to 60 degrees Celsius.

Or actually, 50 degrees, do not pass 60 was a more accurate wording of our instructions. Which is why we’ve been careful to keep the bath temperature at exact 50 as much as possible. I’m now starting to think that’s a mistake. A HUGE mistake. Don’t do that. Try to aim at 55 degrees Celsius. Keep it around that.

Next thing is the inner lining fabric, the one that should make the coat easy to put on and add some extra wind break. I was hesitating on this a lot since I don’t want to mess my cotton coat with some polyester lining fabric. And also, fabric EXPENSIVE so I would rather just go without. Luckily someone recommended Kässä Kirppu just in time.

(This is Finland only thing so ignore this paragraph unless you’re from here:) Second hand crafts supplies, with affordable prices. In practice, second hand here means leftovers or stuff you never used, not like... used fabric and yarn. So unused but cheaper than new. I’m not yet super sure how it works but basically, for a provision, you can send your stuff to them to sell. They seems to take professional photos of it, too. And you can buy all that stuff through them so no need to manage multiple sellers for each product. Might be more expensive than your local flea market but also, easier to browse. Give it a look https://kassakirppu.fi/

ANYWAYS, they sent me my shining new viscose satin fabric today. Viscose or Rayon is a semi-synthetic fabric, made of a natural material, cellulose, but going through some major processing on the way, making it also synthetic. But when it comes to qualities like dyeing, it’s natural. And viscose satin sure does not get caught on every molecule of your being like synthetic satin does. Most of the clothes I own are either cotton or viscose so it’s a good everyday fabric, imo. More expensive but also more modern and environmentally friendly semi-synthetics are Lyocell and Cupro, so if you have the money, look into those. I don’t so yeah, onwards.

My camera actually decided to be an ass today on everything (or it just hates yellow) so whereas my dye bath pics came out too orange, the satin pics came out way pale. The one above is already cranked up to 100 on both colour temp and saturation, and it’s not yet right. Not on my screen at least.

THIS is a more accurate representation of what an absolute easter yellow thing this fabric is. It’s just YELLOW.

So yeah anyways, now a new decision is ahead of me. Should I keep the YELLOW fabric as it is, since it would be the inside lining and kinda like a happy “whaddya buying?” effect, or should I dye it to tone it down, just a notch. It definitely doesn’t match the yarn I have, any of it. But also, does it need to? It’s yellow, so what???

Also, I definitely have more of this satin than I have the cotton so I might have to patch in in some places anyways.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

[peachbear88]

Our Song (Pt 2 of Lights)

A/N: Inspired by "Our Song" by Anne-Marie and Niall Horan.

WEEEEEEEE. Angst my children. Angst.

-----------

You're chucking your belongings into your pickup truck. Your clothes, remainders of your savings, everything. You hear the telltale screech of tires before the car stops, footsteps running towards you.

"Y/N! What are you doing!?" A voice sobs, arms wrapping around you. You turn in Wanda's grip to look at her, your face stone cold. "You can't go. You can't. Please." She shakes you violently, only to receive no reaction.

"Wanda." You gently pry her off you as she stares at you through teary eyes. "I can't. You deserve someone who can take care of you, someone that can afford a proper home, a family. Someone that doesn't force you to sleep on an air mattress, someone that can afford to buy a fucking ring." You pull at your hair, distress crashing down upon you in waves. Wanda's lower lip trembles and you're by her side in an instant, arms pulling her closer. She clings to you, unwilling to let you leave. "I'm sorry Wanda but I have to go. Live a good life for me, please. Find someone that can worship you in all the ways I want to. Goodbye." You whisper before pressing a final kiss to her forehead and slipping out of her grip. A sob escapes as you slam the door of your pickup truck. Wanda's fists pound against your window but you ignore her, your heart cracking with every punch she throws. Starting the engine, you drive away, leaving a heartbroken Wanda behind in the little town you used to call home.

-----------

You crank up the radio, letting the pieces of your broken heart drown in the music.

"Just when I think you're gone,"

"Hear our song on the radio."

"Just like that,"

"Takes me back to the places we used to go."

Your heart tightens as you sing along to the lyrics, memories flooding back in.

-----------

It's prom night yet here you are, hanging around outside in the parking lot. A sniffle, barely audible catches your attention as you pluck the cigarette from your mouth, clouds of smoke escaping from your mouth. Sitting next to the trash can is a girl, a beautiful one at that, wearing a tight black dress that makes your jaw drop. Auburn hair cascading down her shoulders in soft waves, emerald eyes meet yours as she frantically wipes her tears away. Slowly you sit down next to her, so as not to scare her away. You take off your jacket, placing it on her shoulders. She doesn't react, only inching a little closer to you, leaning into your side. You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face before grabbing her hand and leading her to your pickup truck. You silently gesture for her to hop in and she wrinkles her nose.

"I was told to never get in a car with a stranger." You smile, putting your weight on one foot.

"I mean, you did accept my jacket and basically hugged me so... I think rules can be bent here." She sighs before dramatically pulling herself into your car and you smile, chucking your cigarette into the asphalt before hopping into the driver's seat. The two of you drive in a comfortable silence until you reach your destination. "Come on." You say, gently tugging on her hand, dragging her towards the docks. She watches as you pull your phone out, turning the volume up before placing it back in your pocket. Music floods through the speakers as you hold your hand out. She takes it and you pull her close, twirling her around.

"Just when I think you're gone,"

"Hear our song on the radio."

"Just like that,"

"Takes me back to the places we used to go."

"And I've been trying,"

"But I just can't fight it."

You dance in sync, her arms around your neck and yours around her waist.

"So do you normally whiff girls off in your truck and bring them dancing?" She whispers.

"No, you're an exception." She smiles, pulling back to face you.

"I'm Wanda."

"I'm Y/N." You smile before leaning in and kissing her.

-------------

"Y/N? Are you there? I'm pretty sure your break ended 5 minutes ago." Wanda calls out, searching the kitchen for you. She finds you outside, cigarette in hand. You quickly drop it, stomping on it with your shoe. She stares at you unbelieving. "You said you'd quit!" You lower your eyes to your feet, shuffling them. "It's bad for you! You just can't seem to stop." You freeze, smiling. This opportunity is too good to pass up.

"You're right. There's also other things I can't stop." You purr, pushing her against the brick of the restaurant, kissing her. She melts as you pull away, looking like a fish out of water.

"You don't play fair." She swats your arm and you grin as she pulls you back inside.

-------------

You slam your fist on the dashboard, grabbing the wheel and turning the vehicle around. Your foot slams on the accelerator, zooming back to the love of your life.

-------------

You find her at the docks, her legs dangling above the water. You debate sitting next to her but an even better idea flashes into your mind. Slowly, you creep up behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders before shoving her feet-first into the water. She screams, sputtering as she comes up, frantically waving her arms and legs around.

"I can't swim! Help! Anybody!" The blood drains from your face as you strip off your shoes, socks and jacket, diving into the frigid water. You scoop her up as she clings to your body. You trudge out of the water, the cool water seeping into your clothes. The moment you're out of the water, you collapse, shivering. Wanda lies next to you for a moment before hitting you. "You. Fucking. Asshole!" She screams as you pull her into a tight hug, refusing to let go as she punches you. Eventually, her strength gives out and she lets you hold her, sitting on your lap. "Why'd you come back?" You stay quiet for a moment before responding.

"I love you. I don't really need another reason." You murmur quietly, running your hands through her wet hair. She smiles wrapping her arms tighter around your soaking body.

"So when's the wedding?"

-------------

Okay jeez y'all so intimidating that I wrote a second part. It's short but I think it's okay. WEEEEEE!

@username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikuismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

[thesleepy1]

Yes, Sir

A/N: My friend and I are in a stucky mood so here we are. I’m also weak for pre serum stucky so this is pre war as well. Unbeta’d like always, but also because I’m half asleep. 

 Pairings: Pre Serum Steve x Bucky

 Summary: Steve is too focused sketching he doesn’t notice when Bucky comes back from work.  

 Word count: 1,127

 Warnings: language, suggestive comments 

 Steve couldn’t afford the high quality paper or pencils but he made do with the tools he had; sketching in the corners of napkins and paychecks when he could. Bucky had offered on numerous accusations to purchase them for him, but he declined it before Bucky could begin his rant of how Steve needed them to work. 

 Frankly no. He did not need handouts, least of all from his best friend turned roommate turned boyfriend. Steve could get by on his own, thank you very much. And it wasn’t like they were relying on his pieces for income, he had a day job at the diner and Bucky took odd jobs whenever he could. 

 They weren’t rich by any means, but they were no longer living paycheck to paycheck like in the old days. Steve still caught the flu every year like clockwork, but they were no longer struggling to keep him alive. There were rumors of war coming but until then, he wanted to enjoy his days off sketching at window.

 The early evening light drifted in from the open window. It was late in the summer but there was still a warm breeze every now and then. He could wear short sleeves without shivering in his seat or messing up his sketches. 

 Recently, a kind artist at the diner had gifted him a charcoal pencil when she saw the edges of his hand coated with the more inexpensive stuff. “You an artist?” she had asked him, to which he looked confused before nodding. “Well clearly you aren’t a high priced one. Why don’t you let me give you one of these?” She had held up a case of old charcoal pencils, all of which were used to some degree, but she had given him one of the newer ones. “Here, take this and make something pretty.” Steve had wanted to decline her offer but she left the diner, tipping heavily, before he could give her back the pencil. 

 Now being an honest man, Steve did go out and make something pretty. He was filling in the effortless disheveled hair, sharpening the corner of those magnetizing eyes and sketching the knee weakening smile of the man. The front door swung open and in came an exhausted James Buchanan Barnes. 

 “Steve, you up?” came the gravelly voice, deep from a long day of hauling crates up and down a hill.

 “In here!” Steve yelled at the man, not moving from his stop next to the window. 

 “What are you doing, punk?” the taller man asked, rubbing at his eyes the color of crystal clear skies, and blue jay feathers. 

 “Fighting in the war as a captain,” he replied in a snarky tone, not looking up when Bucky entered the room. 

 “When that happens, call the funeral home for me, I don’t think I could take it.” 

 Steve finally looked up only to chuck an eraser at Bucky’s head. The man caught it with ease, throwing it back to Steve. He on the other hand caught it with his face. “Damn it, jerk!” 

 “Haha, you should’ve caught it,” Bucky laughed, the sound the song of angels. 

 “How was work?” Steve changed the subject, still caught up with being assaulted by his own eraser. 

 “Same old, same old,” Bucky breathed out a sigh. “Donny wants me to work the weekends as well. Told him I had to spend it with a lady I met by the island.”

 Steve froze at that. Their relationship wasn’t exactly one they shared with the world or anything but there was always the feeling of dread that Bucky would find someone new and better in every way. Who wouldn’t want his Bucky?

 “Stop giving me that look,” Bucky suddenly spoke in his working ear. He didn’t know when the man moved from the doorway to the window sill but it was a testament to how much he was in his own head. “I’m spending the weekend with you, punk,” he said softly, his hot breath brushing against Steve’s ear. 

 “You smell like a sewer, Buck,” Steve exclaimed, scrunching up his nose in disgust. 

 Bucky being the complete and utter child he is pulled Steve up by the waist and held onto him for dear life. His arms were wrapped around Steve tightly in a death grip, pulling him to his feet and even then his toes didn’t touch the ground. “BUCK!” 

 “What did you say?” Bucky chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating through him and into Steve. “Say it to my face, punk.” He manhandled Steve into wrapping his legs around the older man’s waist, snaking his arms around Bucky’s neck to hold on. 

 “You stink, jerk,” Steve said to the five o’clock shadow on Bucky’s face. Said man only laughed, rubbing his stubble into Steve’s neck. He resisted a laugh but Bucky was unrelenting. 

 “Why don’t you help me clean off then?” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows, his hands sliding down his back to hold Steve up by his ass. 

 “In your dreams.” 

 “Always.” Bucky leaned in to plant his lips on Steve’s. Steve met him half way and cranked his neck upwards, pressing his slightly chapped lips against Bucky’s warmth. His hand shot up to the brunette’s, his fingers tugging on the short locks. 

 Bucky squeezed his ass like the devil he was, causing Steve to gasp. The brunette took this as the opportunity to slide his tongue into Steve’s mouth, slow enough to pull more moans out of the smaller man. 

 “Bucky,” Steve groaned, pulling back for air.

 “Hmm?” Bucky hummed, lowering his head for Steve’s soft neck. He pulled at the skin on Steve’s collar, nipping enough to leave a mark but not to hurt the man. 

 “You really need a shower though.” 

 Bucky maneuvered them onto the old couch, the springs creaking at the weight. “Later,” he mouthed at Steve’s neck, marking him up and down. He ran his hand through the blonde’s hair, his other hand on Steve’s hips. 

 Groaning, Steve pushed Bucky back slightly. The calm blue skies of his eyes were now a brewing storm just waiting to thunder down a shower. “Go clean yourself now or you can forget about this weekend,” Steve commanded with a stern tone, glaring at the taller man with a look that could kill. 

 “Yes, sir.” Bucky left him on the couch, stripping on his way to the bathroom. He dropped his clothes as he walked and Steve had to mentally scream. Bucky was lucky he didn’t call Winnifred and inform her about the pig that her son had become. Fortunately for Bucky, Steve trailed behind him, picking up his clothes. He was his boyfriend for goodness sake, not his housekeeper. Bucky was definitely going to be getting a punishment for this.

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Traditions

Author: @dailyservingofhope

For: @hiddenkamukuraproject

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (A few vague sexual references, Nagito joking about death, alcohol mention)

Prompt: Going out on Halloween and having fun

Author’s notes: AU where the tragedy didn’t happen. 100% pure organic fluff.

“You’ve never been trick-or-treating?!” Nagito smiled and raised his hands in a placating gesture, “Sorry, I had no one to take me when I was a kid. But it’s fine! It ended up being good luck!” “‘Good’?” Hajime asked pointedly as he rested his coffee mug on their kitchen counter. Nagito had a way of twisting things to fit his strange worldview. “I gave out candy instead. Since I could afford full bars of chocolate for all the other kids, I became sort of popular for a little while… at least until they got to know me better.” “That’s not the point,” Hajime said, “I just get upset when I think about your childhood. It’s not fair that you missed out on so much.” He felt robe-cloaked arms wrap around his waist and a soft peck on his forehead. “Don’t worry. I’m fine, promise,” Nagito reassured him. Hajime grumbled in response, wondering if it was okay to be annoyed at his partner’s cute attempt at deflecting. Sometimes Hajime felt that he was more bothered by Nagito’s troubles than Nagito himself. 'Fine’ to him often meant 'Not in the hospital’. How much disappointment and grief did he suffer in his youth before the bar lowered that much? This wasn’t about some silly holiday tradition, this was about making him feel included, and giving him access to experiences that most people took for granted. “You shouldn’t feel sorry for me, you know,” Nagito gently chided him. “I don’t,” Hajime said, worried that Nagito noticed his increasingly pitying expression during their conversation. “Good. Because I secretly switched your coffee with decaf.” “What?! Nagito!” “I’m just kidding. You always look at me like I’m a kicked puppy when I tell you about my past. I prefer it when you’re annoyed with me. Your voice gets this adorable lilt to it.” “No, it doesn’t! I… think?” Nagito chuckled. “Look, it’s not pity,” Hajime sighed, “I’m just worried you feel like an outsider because you had such a different childhood experience than many of us. It’s important to me that you feel welcome and have lots of happy memories. And if I have to take you trick-or-treating this weekend to make that happen, then I’ll do it.” Nagito’s face lit up, “You want to go trick-or-treating with me?” Aware that he just invited Nagito on a date involving an activity generally enjoyed by children still in the single digits of age, Hajime backpedaled, “Wait! I-It’s okay if you don’t want to! I know we’re too old for it, and we told Ibuki we’d be at her Halloween party, so we’ll get to dress up, anyway. There’s no pressure-” “I would love to! We can pick out costumes this afternoon!” Fear of embarrassment ranked high on Hajime’s list of top motivators, but it was nothing compared to Nagito’s sweet face. He couldn’t back out now. “O-okay! Sounds great!” ___ Hajime pulled a scarf around his mouth to warm the crisp, fall air flowing into his lungs. Yellowed leaves danced on the sidewalk with every breeze as he and Nagito strolled through the city. Their destination was a costume shop located in a quaint, less-trafficked district, popular among the dating crowd for its restaurants and shopping. They found it nestled between a cafe and a boutique clothing store. Walls painted black and covered in wheatpasted underground band adverts gave an eccentric touch that made it stand out from the conservatism of the surrounding businesses. Through the windows, there was a display of the typical bats and pumpkins, along with more unnerving props like costumed mannequins covered in fake blood and gaping wounds. Cosplayers and street fashionistas were the store’s year-round clientele, but nearing the holiday, they widened their selection to include Halloween costumes. Hajime pulled open the door for Nagito, “Have any ideas about what you want to be?” “Dead?” Nagito offered. “I really wish you wouldn’t joke about that.” “Aren’t ghosts popular this time of the year?” With a deadpan expression, Hajime poked Nagito in the belly. He then turned his attention to the racks and shelves, not wanting to take the bait. As they perused the aisles together, Nagito suddenly snatched a large package off a rack and hid it behind his back, “I’m going to try something on. No peeking!” Hajime continued to browse while his partner thrashed around in the fitting room. A rather seductive vampire costume caught his attention, and he briefly lost himself in a daydream involving Nagito and lots of sexy nibbling all over his body until he heard someone walk up behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The glance turned into a double take. To say that Nagito was dressed up as a dog was about as true as saying The Big Bang Theory was a comedy. There was an element of objective truth to it, but it failed spectacularly to articulate that everything else about it was an abomination. The costume was like a long fuzzy tube, white on the belly and black and tan along the back, indicating it was probably intended to be a corgi. The head perched on top of Nagito’s head, its mouth gaping around his face as if it were a python swallowing its prey whole. His feet, which were only just visible from the bottom of the tube, were adorned with paw slippers. The hand-paws were so padded and fluffy that they appeared useless for any practical purpose other than being cute. “How do I look? Wanna be my owner for Halloween? I’ll let you walk me on a leash and give me commands! I know how to beg and lay down!” Nagito said as he shook his rear to make the stubby tail wag. Hajime blushed, looking around to see if anyone overheard, “Shhh! There will be kids around, so nothing… kinky!” “I would never do something I thought was weird around impressionable youth!” “That’s the problem, what you think is weird is a whole world away from what everyone else thinks is weird…” Hajime looked him up and down, “So why this, of all things?” “Most of these costumes aren’t really appropriate around children. What did you think I’d be? A sexy demon? A sexy cat boy? A sexy werewolf? A sexy…” “I get the point… they are a bit provocative, aren’t they?” “Don’t use big words like 'provocative’. I’m just a silly little dog!” he whined, covering his face with his paws in mock shame. “God, Nagito, can you be normal for like one second?” Hajime said, turning away to hide his laughter. Nagito closed the distance, picking up his hand and kissing it. He looked down into his eyes with a charming smile and whispered, “But this is what you like about me, right? There’s no way someone would ever go out with me for any rational reason. Doesn’t that make you abnormal too?” Hajime shivered at his touch. Even dressed in the most absurd getup he’d ever seen, Nagito was still hot, and when he cranked up the charm, he had a terrifying ability to render Hajime as helpless as a fawn. He pushed Nagito away, hoping he didn’t notice, “I-I guess I just don’t know how you do it. You can be so confident sometimes. I’d be afraid of wearing that in public.” “There’s a difference between confidence and being so resigned to loss that you stop feeling anxiety over the little things,” he said, a bit sadly. “Besides, it’s fun!” He waved his paws comically to accentuate the point. “Now we have to find something fun for you to wear.” “Okay, but let’s go by MY definition of fun.” “Whatever you say, Hajime,” Nagito beamed. His eyes darted around, then settled on a mustache and beard set which he handed to Hajime, “How about this? You can go as a grumpy old man. Bonus! You won’t have to be seen with me.” “Oh, come on.” Hajime said, snatching it from him. He looked it over then held it up to his face in front of a mirror. “Hey, I could go as Izuru Kamukura,” he joked, referencing their old high school’s founder. Nagito folded his arms and side-eyed him, “Don’t get all full of yourself now, Hajime.” He then backed away as Hajime approached him with a toy sword taken from a rack. “Wait! What do you plan on doing with that?!” ___ “Happy Halloween!” Hajime, who had been sleeping quite peacefully until then, would have fallen out of bed in fright if a heavy weight had not subsequently landed on him. He opened his eyes to find Nagito sprawled out over his lap. “Sorry, I missed you. I couldn’t wait any longer,” Nagito said. Hajime slammed Nagito on the back of the head with his pillow, “Being cute won’t save you this time.” “Noooo, don’t kill me! I’ve never been kissed!” “Yes, you have.” “Could you remind me?” Nagito said, puckering his lips. Hajime played along and kissed him, “There, now I can kill you.” Moments later, Nagito flew through the air from a good whack from the pillow. Their day went on with the two enjoying horror movies playing in the background as they enjoyed a peaceful afternoon together. After the sun set, they prepared themselves for the night ahead. Hajime had settled on being a black cat, largely because it worked as a couple’s costume, but also just looking at Nagito’s cumbersome outfit made a simple and light costume seem more appealing. The set consisted only of ears and a tail, with a fluffy black sweater and black jeans from his closet to complement it. There was also ancient makeup in the back of a drawer from his scene kid phase which was totally just an ironic experiment and definitely not anything he ever took seriously. He leaned over their bathroom sink to get a better look in the mirror as he used an old eye pencil to draw whiskers, a nose, and thick eyeliner with wings that swept out half an inch. “Who said scene was dead?” Nagito said, as he smirked at him in the mirror. “Hey, I can’t help it that I can do a perfect cat-eye.” “Can you do my makeup sometime?” “Oh please, Nagito, you don’t need it. People would kill for your lashes.” “You know, you’re starting to sound a little… catty.” Hajime groaned at the pun. He reached an arm behind him to blindly swat at his partner, only succeeding in stirring the air around as Nagito dodged the attack, “Is being sarcastic the only thing you’re good for? Why aren’t you dressed yet?” “I will, it’s just hard to move very well in it and I wanted to bother you more effectively.” Nagito draped his arms over Hajime’s shoulders and leaned in. “Actually, I’d like to thank you. I know you get scared of embarrassing situations, so for you to take someone like me out doing something meant for kids, knowing people will look at us funny… It’s sweet of you.” “Why do you think I’m putting on makeup? If all goes well, I won’t even recognize myself.” He chuckled, “But in all seriousness, you know I’d do anything for you.” Nagito buried his face into Hajime’s neck and said nothing. ___ “Everyone looks so happy!” Nagito said, gazing at the lively scene. Costumed kids flocked together at doors or ran around screaming and laughing in excitement. With jack-o’-lanterns on every porch and fake spider webbing drooping from trees, the neighborhood oozed Halloween spirit. Hajime caught himself staring at his adorable partner, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Are you ready for some trick-or-treating?” “Tell me what to do! I’ve never done this before!” “Come on, you know what to do. Here, try this house.” “What if they yell at me because I’m too old?” “In that case, we threaten to egg their house, then run away.” He responded, hoping Nagito wouldn’t take it as a serious suggestion. Nagito’s eyes swirled. “I wonder if we’ll get chased. That would be exciting,” he said breathily. “You seem a little too excited by that…” Nagito wasn’t listening, he was already halfway up the driveway of a house. Hajime remained by the street to watch while Nagito knocked on the door. An old woman appeared. She looked him up and down as his outstretched arms presented her with a wicker basket ready for filling. “Trick-or-treat!” She gave a tactful, patient smile, “You’re so cute, but aren’t you too old for this?” “My boyfriend is forcing me to do this,” Nagito said, “He’ll be angry if I don’t come back with anything.” “Oh my… well, here…” She dropped a few pieces of candy into his basket, “You look like a sweet boy, you should get away from that awful man. Good luck, dear.” “Yes ma'am! Thank you!” Nagito chirped as he skipped back to the street, somehow managing not to trip over his slippers. “I couldn’t hear you guys, but it seemed to go well?” Hajime asked. “She wasn’t going to give me a treat, so I tricked her.” “Nagito, she was like… 80.” “It’s the Halloween code. I don’t make the rules.” “What did you say to her?” “Nothing to worry about. Let’s go on to the next house!” ___ “Really? You’re trick-or-treating at this age?” “I’m dying of lymphoma, it’s my final wish to trick-or-treat one last time.” “Oh my goodness, of course! Have as much candy as you want!” “Thanks!” Nagito said graciously as he took a few pieces. Hajime looked at him askance when he returned. “Wow, you’re getting a lot of candy. I… honestly wasn’t expecting this…” he said, gesturing at Nagito’s nearly overflowing basket. It seemed like every house in the neighborhood was eager to give him everything they had. “Yeah! Everyone has been so nice!” “I’m glad you’re having a good time, but what are we going to do with all this candy? You don’t even like sweets.” “I had no intention of keeping the candy, Hajime, this was all just for fun.” Nagito’s smile transformed into a grin. “But now that you’ve brought it up, there’s something I’ve wanted to do all night.” Hajime watched as Nagito trotted towards a group of teenagers. Sneaking up behind them, he reached into his basket and tossed a chocolate bar over their heads. They jerked back in surprise, and as they turned to see where it had come from, they were immediately pelted with handful after handful of candy. The next minute was pure pandemonium. Children ran from across the street to join in the fun, grabbing as much candy as they could while it rained down on them. And somehow in that moment, with the kids cheering and Nagito laughing joyfully among that beautiful chaos, Hajime swore his boyfriend never looked so handsome. Yeah, even despite the costume. ___ Ibuki’s Halloween party was well underway by the time Hajime and Nagito arrived. Blaring music greeted them at the door before she did. “You made it! Look at Nagito, so cuuuute! And Hajime, Ibuki loves your makeup! Meowwwww!” Being a world-famous musician, she could afford the finer things. Her house, which better resembled goth night at a club than a habitable dwelling, boasted enough space to host a party with room to spare for dancing. Witch-house played from an expensive sound system that cost more than Hajime and Nagito’s annual rent. It went without saying, Ibuki threw the best parties. Hajime hardly had a minute to take in the surroundings before Nekomaru had him and Nagito locked in a crushing hug. “Hahaha! We’re all here now!” Nekomaru beamed. “You made it, I am so happy!” Sonia said. “Yay.” Chiaki added in her trademark 'not sure if sincere or not’ tone of voice. “Look at you losers wearing a couple’s costume.” Saionji sneered as she eyed them up and down. Mahiru cleared her throat, “We are too, Hiyoko,” remarking on their Sailor Moon outfits. Saionji pouted, “But it’s cute when we do it!” “It’s too bad Teruteru died in that freak accident involving the helicopter tour over that active volcano, he would have liked to be here right now.” Souda said, idly scratching his head. Tsumiki dropped a piece of food on the floor and bent over to pick it up, showing her rear to everyone, “I’m sorry I’m so clumsy! I’m ruining everyone’s good time! Don’t worry about me!” “It’s okay, no one is worrying about you. No one is thinking about you at all!” Saionji cheered. “Waaaaaaaaah!!” Byakuya shook his head in disdain at Hajime and Nagito. “You’re late for the party, you missed out on donuts. Where are your priorities?” Akane’s mouth was too stuffed to respond, so she waved the last donut at them in greeting instead. Gundham held out his arms, letting his hamsters crawl up into his hands. “My Four Dark Devas are enraged at your tardiness for the most evil night of the year. Now the ritual can begin in earnest. Count yourself lucky that they have chosen not to kill you where you stand.” Peko had the eyes of a predator fixed on Nagito’s fluffy animal costume, while Fuyuhiko grinned and raised a shot glass containing an orange liquid, “Hey guys, come drink up! I brought juice!” Ibuki squealed, “Baby gangster is so adorable, only drinking mixer!” “I don’t need to drink alcohol to be cool!!” Amid all the shouting and arguing, Nagito turned to Hajime, “You know, this might be the best Halloween I’ve ever had.” “Same here. And I think you actually taught me a thing or two about the spirit of giving. Wrong holiday though.” “Yeah, too bad it doesn’t count.” Nagito grinned. “I’ll just have to fill up a stocking for you when Christmas comes around.” “I’d love that, Hajime! I’ve never had a stocking for Christmas before!”

[tisfan]

Title: From Russia with Purrs Square: A3 - FREE SQUARE Warning: no animals were actually harmed in the writing of this fic Rating: Gen Pairing: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds / background Bucky/Tony Summary: Spider-Man doesn’t always get called in to help with the Avengers stuff, but when Peter is given a special, urgent mission from the Winter Soldier, he needs to call in backup Link: A03 Word Count: 2505 For @tonystarkbingo

The spidey-sense was a bitch, really. Bad enough all his senses were cranked up to eleven and a half, but then he was on edge constantly for the first year, or more. Spidey-sense wasn’t common sense. It wasn’t directional. About half the time it wasn’t even useful. Had him ducking spitballs by diving to the floor like there was an lone shooter on school grounds.

Not that Peter didn’t already have a rep for being a bit of a spaz, and at a school for top academics, that was saying a lot. There were many ways to bully people, and shoving them into lockers was only for the most uncreative.

Which did mean, after the first year or so, he got sort of… used to it. The spidey-sense tingling didn’t have him bolting upright out of bed at three in the morning to cling to the ceiling like a terrified bat.

Usually he woke up long enough to blink at his clock, pause a moment to see if whatever it was actually planned to break through his window, and then went back to sleep.

Not this time.

His skin rippled and electric jolts went up and down his spine. Spidey-sense was like licking a nine-volt. Not painful, but impossible to endure for long, and freaky-weird on top of that.

Rap-rap-rap.

Peter rubbed at his eyes. “I swear,” he muttered, pushing himself up from his bed, “if I’m getting danger signals because there’s a pigeon at my window, I’m going to hurt someone.”

(more below the cut)

He reached under his bed and grabbed one of his spare web-slingers. Not one of the fancy things that Mr. Stark had set up for him with five hundred and seventy-six possible combinations, but the regular old one. Because he was tired and he was pretty sure it was a pigeon, but he wasn’t sure, so--

Rap-rap-rap.

Peter was just peeking through the blinds when a hand shoved his window up. A metal hand, with black and gold fingers. A moment later, the blinds shifted aside and there was a man in his bedroom.

A familiar man.

“Hey, aren’t--”

“Hush, kid,” the guy said in a deep, smoky sort of voice. The kind that spies used in meetings with their contacts.

“Aren’t you the Winter Soldier?” Peter hissed, excitable. Better to keep his voice down, though. Aunt May would completely freak out if there was a superhero in his room. Especially one that had been wanted for war crimes.

“Look, kid,” the Winter Soldier said. “Stark told me you could be trusted.”

“Mr. Stark said--” Peter squeaked. “Yeah, I mean, yeah, he… we do missions. Sometimes. Together. We’re a team. Partners. Like that.” He crossed his fingers. “You can trust me, yes sir.”

“Great,” the Winter Soldier said. “I need you to watch this cat for me.”

“What?”

The Winter Soldier reached outside onto the fire escape and brought in a cat carrier. It wasn’t an ordinary, plastic PetsWorld thing, either, but a fancy, modular box. Shiny and sleek and bearing the Stark Industries logo. “This is Alpine,” the Winter Soldier said. “Don’t let anything happen to this cat. I’ll be back in about a week.”

Peter looked into the carrier and saw a pair of blue eyes looking back at him.

“Okay--?”

The Winter Soldier was gone.

At least the multilayered cat carrier had come with supplies.

And the highest high-tech litter box Peter had ever seen, which was not saying a lot, because Peter had never lived in a rental that allowed pets, much less ever had one. Aside from a goldfish he’d won at the fair one time, but that had died within a week, and really, the less said about that, the better.

“You--” He told the cat, pointing at it, “--had better not die in a week.”

The cat came forward to sniff at his finger, and then brushed her head under his hand.

The Stark-Box came with a very fine layer of particles -- like crystals, really, in red and gold, because sure, why not, let the cat poop on the Iron Man colors. That was probably a bet that Mr. Stark had lost, or something. Or a joke that he didn’t want to know about -- and did a quick removal of feces or urine, put it in a little air-tight bag like they were on the International Space Station, as well as performed basic medical analysis on the output and sent a text to Peter’s phone, telling him that Alpine was in perfect health.

“What are you, some kind of spy cat?” He couldn’t imagine Mr. Stark going this far out of his way for a housepet.

There were also several tins of food, packets of a semi-soft food, and some hard kibble. There were feeding instructions and an admonishment to water the cat (that also went directly to his phone and he wondered if there was some sort of bluetooth connection and onboard computer in the Stark Carrier.

There were enrichment activities -- including a miniature of Cap’s shield that zoomed around the room under its own power and Alpine chased it a few times before batting it into Peter’s laundry basket where it stayed, buzzing fitfully, until Peter put it away.

A cat brush that Alpine turned her nose up at, and proceeded to attack his hand when he tried to use it. “Well, I went a week last year without brushing my hair-- don’t look at me like that, it was finals -- and it didn’t hurt me, so you’ll probably be okay.”

Alpine turned around and curled into a ball on Peter’s bed and went to sleep.

Which was great until Peter considered the fact that it was now four in the morning, he’d spent the last two hours poking and playing with the Winter Soldier’s cat, and he still had school in the morning.

And the cat… was laying in his bed. In the center of his bed. Where he wanted to sleep.

He poked her a few times. “Get up, that’s my sleeping spot.”

She ignored him.

Peter sighed, considered moving her. She opened one blue eye and gave him a Look.

Psychic cat, maybe?

“Ug, whatever.” He slung a web hammock and climbed in. He’d slept in worse places.

“You look like crap,” Ned said, sliding into the desk next to Peter. “Busy night crime fighting, rescuing stolen bikes? Giving directions? Oh, oh, I know, stopped a mugging?”

“Cat.”

“What?”

“I have a cat,” Peter explained, through a yawn. “The Winter Soldier showed up and left me a cat. A special cat.”

“Like, a lion? Or a radioactive housecat? Do you think if it bit me, I might get powers?”

Peter almost laughed.

Almost.

“I don’t think so?” Peter opened his textbook and turned to the page the teacher required. “I don’t know, he didn’t say much, just that it was important, and--”

“Mr. Parker, is there something you’d like to share with the class, or can I get on with our history lesson?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter said. “Go on, it’s fascinating.”

“Sarcasm, dude,” Ned hissed at him.

He waited until the teacher turned away again. “So, come over and help me out?”

“With a cat?”

“Dude, you have pets, I need advice! Help!”

“I have sea monkeys that I ordered from a comic book,” Ned said, with vast patience. “That’s not exactly the same as keeping a mutant cat under control.”

“She’s not a mutant,” Peter said, “at least I don’t think so. I don’t know, maybe she’s housing nano-tech or something. Just come over and help me out, okay?”

“Mutant nanotech cat,” Ned said. “And yet, somehow, this seems like work.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be a hero, pal,” Peter told him.

“Guy in the chair, Peter,” Ned corrected. “Q to your Bond.”

“Why is your room covered in webs?”

“She keeps knocking stuff off the shelves.”

“Really? Like that’s an actual thing, I thought it was just a meme,” Ned said.

“Sure, sit something there-- just on the edge of the desk.”

Ned pulled out his cellphone and put it on the side of Peter’s desk.

“Now come over here, so you don’t scare her,” Peter told him.

And sure enough a few seconds later, Alpine hopped up onto the desk. Sat next to the phone.

And knocked it on the floor.

Alpine was strong, Peter discovered. After pushing over Ned’s phone, a pile of algebra books, the casing for Peter’s old computer, a few dumbell weights that he’d used back before the spider bite and rarely even thought about now…

“This cat can push fifty pounds,” Ned said in awe. “Maybe it’s got the super soldier serum in it!”

Peter scoffed. “I can pick up an eighty-thousand pound cargo truck.” For a few seconds, at any rate, and really, it was more like he caught it. And it had kinda knocked him on his ass. A bit. But Ned didn’t need to know that.

“Well, not everyone can be Spider-Man,” Ned said, philosophically.

“Peter, you need to be -- are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Aunt May, “ Peter said, grabbing a bag of granola from the drawer and emptying into his mouth, chewing like a chipmunk. The worst thing about the whole Spider-Man gig was how he was always freaking hungry, no matter how much he ate. And he knew they couldn’t afford it. MJ had gone on a tear a few months ago about a diet that the goal was SNATT -- slightly nauseated all the time -- to obtain the perfect beach body.

One time his stomach had growled in biology so loudly that the whole class turned to stare, and Peter had said he was doing the kimkins diet. Almost everyone had stopped worrying about it, then, except for MJ, who started bringing him articles about eating disorders.

“--you need to be more careful about leaving your window open. There was a cat in your room.”

Slightly nauseated all the time.

The granola turned into a rock in his stomach. “So--” casually, casually “--where’s the cat now?” And how the heck hadn’t she noticed the cat box and food and litter if Aunt May was in his room?

“Her owner came and got her,” May said, blithely unaware that she was single handedly destroying Peter’s entire existence. “Nice man. Michael-- what did he say his last name was? I don’t remember. He said he saw her in your window, and came over to get her. I said we didn’t have a cat here, he must be mistaken, but when I opened the door to your room, she ran right to him. Says she’s his companion animal -- suffers from a rare blood disorder and she can smell it when he needs to medicate. That’s so smart, you know, having an animal that can do that.”

Morbius.

His aunt was less than six feet away from someone who drank human blood? Peter just about swooned.

“Peter, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know, cat. In my room. I should go check and make sure she didn’t leave any presents.”

Aunt May made a fair enough sort of shrug and Peter bolted, leaving the rest of his snack on the kitchen counter. Threw on the spider-suit, stashed the Stark KatCaddy in his closet, and was out the window in a moment.

“Now, aside from a castle, if I was a nasty old vampire with a cat that I wanted for some reason, where would I go?”

Alchemex.

Alpine was, of all crazy things, asleep in Peter’s lap. He’d webbed her twice trying to get her back from Morbius, she’d spent half the day with a crazy vampire, and then she’d taken a trip across the city via the spider-street.

That she was curled up in his lap, absently kneading his thigh and purring little cute snores while she slept was…

“This cat is something else,” Peter said. He scratched between her ears and she opened up one eye to peer at him, then mewed softly and went back to sleep.

“So, like a mutant cat?”

“Well, no,” Peter said. “I’m not sure. Morbius thought she might have been injected with the super soldier serum. He was planning to drain all her blood and analyze it, with the idea of making a cure for himself.”

“A vampire who wants a cure,” Ned said. “Why is he a bad guy again? I mean, if I was a vampire who could go out in the day time, I’d go to high school every day and be cool and broody. Like Twilight.”

“Ned, you do go to high school every day,” Peter pointed out.

“Oh, right, yeah…”

Spidey sense didn’t wake him up.

The knocking on his window did, though.

Peter groaned. “What’s the matter with you? Can’t you just come by during normal daytime hours?” He shoved the window up to let the Winter Soldier in.

“You look tired, kid,” the Winter Soldier said.

“Yeah, well, your super cat’s like super useless,” Peter said. “Three villains, two nights of knocking all my stuff on the floor, one day of puking on my bed, and a partridge in a pear tree. Does she have any abilities, because you should totally train her up some.”

“Villains?”

“Dude, your cat got catnapped -- and not like in the cute, sleeping in my lap way -- four times. Twice by Morbius, who either wants to drink her blood or test it or something.”

The Winter Soldier’s eyebrows went up and his face took on murderous intent.

“Look, I got her back, everything’s cool, you do not have to get Cap to drop another 18-wheeler on me,” Peter said. “Everything’s perfectly fine right now, we’re all fine here, how are you?”

“I’m still stuck on villains,” the Winter Soldier admitted. “What’d you do, take out an ad in th’ papers that you were cat sitting?”

“I don’t know how Morbius knew,” Peter admitted, “but once the Sinister Six saw that Spider-Man was rescuing a cat, they decided the cat had to be important for some reason, I guess.”

“Well, shit, kid,” the Winter Soldier said. “I didn’t think that would happen. I just-- Tony… last minute--”

“You had a mission?”

“I had a vacation,” the Winter Soldier said. “Vacation. I love the sound of that word. Va-caaaay-shun.” The Winter Soldier rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck and --was that a hickey?

“I thought you had healing factor,” Peter said, “so-- who-- I mean, how har-- you know what, don’t answer that. You had a good vacation, that’s all I need to know, it is not my business if Mr. Stark was gnawing on your neck like a starving vampire, we have enough vampires around here, that’s all perfectly normal and fine.”

The Winter Soldier laughed. “Somethin’ like that, kid,” he said. “Sorry about the trouble, though. She wouldn’t have liked a kennel and I jus’ didn’t have anywhere else to take her, to someone I trusted.”

“You know what, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir, any time,” Peter said.

[calorieworkouts]

Could your need for help make you prey to a personal trainer?

A Customer assistance blog for people looking for a personal trainer

Approx. read time 3.5 min.

If you were on your death bed and also did a supply of exactly how you invested your mental energy as well as time. Would you regret your wellness relevant pursuits? Would certainly you be sorry for the moment invested assuming about what you see in the mirror? how you really feel in your clothing? as well as how much time you've provided to losing weight?

One of the greatest time/ power wasters worldwide is failed efforts at becoming healthy. It's becoming simpler to understand how this occurs offered the sea of crap you have to sort via in order to find info that'll aid you in any type of longer term capacity.

This summertime I was playing on my Monday evening softball group with my better half as well as in-laws. In this league you pitch to your very own group however they have a policy where if the batter strikes the sphere as well as it touches a bottle, you're immediately out. It's a foolish rule ... So we were shedding by 4 runs and my partner depended on bat ... So normally she drills a ball right up the middle and skims it off my leg! Should be an automatic out according to the regulations yet nobody really seemed to discovered. I would certainly have been the next batter up and also I was one swing away from binding the video game! Every part of my soul intended to close my mouth and also rise and crank a dinger ... However I told the reality ... My other half was out and also the video game mored than. After that I sustained a strong 20 mins of people declaring their distaste for my presence (I'm 50% joking).

Normally with softball there's an umpire to take the brunt of what my household could dish out but because we play in such a rinky-dink organization, we had no umpires! Business is the very same means, if somebody exists, rips off, takes as well as misinforms, there is no affordable means to maintain them accountable.

The fact is that people are flawed and also the only point that's maintains us from acting in the most effective passion of ourselves is a strong value system.

" if you tell the reality you never need to keep in mind anything" mark twain

This all seems quite evident, but when you are harmful, weak, unfit, obese and/or needing to make some modifications to your health then you're most likely going to approach your following health and wellness endeavour from a setting of humbleness. This is an advantage, unless you're engaging with health care that reveals 1 or 2 of these kinds of bias.

The FIRST kind of prejudice we are utilized to seeing. That's health care practioners being improperly incentivized to place your needs (short term and long term) at the centre of your care. This is the medical care matching to your loved one hitting you with a baseball and also being crazy at you for not lying regarding it after (sorry Laura). It's not completion of the world, you may also obtain pretty suitable service, it's just struck or miss out on and also it likely will not be the best ... As an instance, picture a gym where personal trainers are required to educate their customers a minimum of twice each week( this is very typical). Seems sensible yet if at some point you'll see the individual trainer bugging you concerning booking additional sessions when you have actually gotten unwell or taken a week off for Christmas. It additionally eliminates the possibility of your ever before lowering your training regularity. What if you intended to training twice a week by yourself (when you're all set) yet just when per week with your personal trainer to maintain you accountable?

The SECOND kind of prejudice you'll require to be wary of, is the level of 'individual excitement' the individual you're eating from has. Whether it's your personal instructor, a writer, a YouTube blogger or your vegan cousin who does crossfit( yikes). Personal interest and interest often look the very same yet the certainly aren't! These fitness instructors likely aren't experienced enough to see what takes place beyond of these overly passionate health searches. Everybody done the pendulum ... This is when you take place a wellness fad and after that discover on your own neck deep in Haagen Dazs on the brink of diabetes only 3 weeks later on. This kind term pendulum can take place in a long term feeling to, I've seen lots of individual instructors eliminate their profession by obtaining fat after 5 years of only salads.

Find someone who's in fact buying their occupation as a personal trainer.

A great deal of people end up being individual trainers due to the fact that they find health and fitness, enjoy with it, see some results and after that they decide it's time to make some loan out of it. A WHOLE LOT of trainers picked this job path out of some sort term personal enthusiasm, not because they're legitimately aiming to develop a solid reputation as a legitimate personal instructor. Like these folks

What do the most effective personal fitness instructors look like?

There a lot of specialist profession trainers out there that have a passion for assisting their clients to satisfy (as well as exceed) their assumptions. These fitness instructors are all incredibly evidence based with just how they come close to research as they establish and refine their training styles. Finding a personal trainer with worths such as this in a center that incentivizes them to continue to develop those worths is the wonderful area when it comes to customer service.

Concluding Cautions:

Whenever you're coming close to anybody or anything that could assist you with your wellness as well as performance, ask yourself this. Does this audio like a passionate practioner that has developed their enthusiasm on engaging proof? Or does this appearance extra like someone attempting to earn a living offering their personal enthusiasms?

[the-creativedigitalmarketer]

The No.1 Free Online Calculator in the world

https://calculatorboy.com/blog/free-online-calculator/

The No.1 Free Online Calculator in the world

The free online calculator brought a revolution in the world of the internet. In this, we’ll tell you about the functions of an online calculator and recommend the best free online calculator as a bonus. Also, we’ll tell you about finance calculators, marketing calculators and maths calculators as well. But first of all, let’s get to the basics.

History of Calculator

The modern calculator has come a long way from the bulky, hand-cranked machines of the 1800s. The first electronic calculators were developed in the early 1940s, and they were large, expensive, and used vacuum tubes. By the 1970s, pocket calculators were common and affordable. Today, there are dozens of free online calculators to choose from, including calculators for basic math, fractions and percentages, mortgage payments, weight loss, and more. Virtually any calculation you need can be done online with just a few clicks of the mouse. One of my favorite online calculators is the one that calculates fuel economy. I often use it when I’m planning road trips to figure out how many miles I can get per gallon. It’s also handy for comparing the cost of driving versus taking the train or bus. Another favorite is the mortgage calculator. It’s helped me budget for my new home by letting me know what my monthly payments will be. I’ve also used it to compare different loan offers from different lenders. There are dozens of other excellent online calculators available, too! So whatever your needs may be, there’s most likely a free online calculator that can help you solve it.

What is an online calculator

A free online calculator is a valuable tool for students and professionals of all ages. A free online calculator can simplify complex calculations, help with homework assignments, or simply provide a convenient way to perform basic mathematical operations. There are many different types of free online calculators available, from scientific calculators to graphing calculators to financial calculators. The most common type of free online calculator is the scientific calculator. Scientific calculators are versatile tools that can be used for a variety of mathematical operations, including addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division; trigonometric functions; logarithmic and exponential operations; and more. Many scientific calculators also include graphing capabilities, which can be useful for visualizing data or solving equations. Financial calculators are another popular type of free online calculator. Financial calculators can help with everything from creating a budget to planning for retirement. They can calculate payments and interest rates, determine how much money you need to save each month, and more. Finally, graphing calculators are another type of popular free online calculator. Graphing calculators allow you to graph linear equations and other functions, making it easier to visualize the results of your calculations. They can also be used to solve equations and find intersections between graphs. Whether you’re a student studying for a math test or a professional trying to crunch numbers quickly, there’s a good chance that a free online calculator can help make your life easier. So don’t wait – check out some of the great options available today! One of the best and my personal favourite online calculators available on the internet which has every possible kind of calculator in the world is : https://calculatorboy.com/

A calculator tool can be used for basic arithmetic, scientific calculations, or solving complex equations. There are many different types of calculator tools available online, which can be used for a variety of purposes. One of the most popular types of calculator tools is the scientific calculator. A scientific calculator can be used to solve a wide range of mathematical problems, including algebra and trigonometry problems. Scientific calculators often have a variety of buttons and functions that allow users to complete more complex calculations. Another common type of calculator tool is the graphing calculator. A graphing calculator can be used to graph mathematical equations and curves. This type of calculator can be helpful for students who are studying physics or calculus, as it allows them to visualize the results of their equations. There are also a number of specialized calculator tools available online. For example, there are calculators designed specifically for budgeting or solving financial problems. These types of calculators can be extremely helpful for people who need to track their expenses or plan for their financial future. Overall, online calculator tools can be extremely useful for students and professionals of all ages. They provide a quick and easy way to solve mathematical problems, and they can be used for a variety of purposes. Whether you need a basic arithmetic tool, a scientific calculator, or a specialized financial calculator, there is likely an online tool that will meet your needs.

Types of online calculators

A free online calculator can be used to perform mathematical operations, to convert between different units of measurement, or to solve problems. One of the most common uses for a free online calculator is to perform mathematical operations. A free online calculator can be used to add, subtract, multiply, and divide numbers. It can also be used to calculate percentages and square roots. Another common use for a free online calculator is to convert between different units of measurement. A free online calculator can be used to convert between inches and centimetres, or between Fahrenheit and Celsius. It can also be used to calculate the value of currency conversion. Finally, a free online calculator can be used to solve problems. A free online calculator can be used to solve equations, find the square root of a number, or determine the value of a mortgage payment. Every student can use a free online calculator to help with homework or to check their work. In addition, a free online calculator can be used to help with budgeting, investing and other personal finance tasks. There are many different types of free online calculators available. A person can find a free online calculator to do everything from calculating a mortgage payment to converting pounds to ounces. Most online calculators are easy to use, with simple instructions and clear buttons. One of the best things about a free online calculator is that it is always available when you need it. You don’t have to carry around a bulky calculator or search for an internet café with a working computer. All you need is an internet connection and you’re good to go. A free online calculator is also handy for those who are not comfortable with math. If you’re not sure how to solve a problem, you can use the calculator to help you get the right answer. This can be especially helpful when you’re working on complex problems that involve multiple steps. Finally, using a free online calculator can help you become familiar with different types of math problems. This is especially important if you’re taking classes in high school or college that require math skills. With practice, you’ll be able to solve math problems quickly and easily – without the help of a calculator! If you are working on a math problem and are not sure if you have the answer correct, you can use a calculator to check your work. This can help to ensure that you get the correct answer and do not make any mistakes. Additionally, online calculators can be used to help budget your money. By inputting your income and bills, you can see how much money you have left over each month and make adjustments as needed. Finally, online calculators can also be used for basic calculations such as adding or subtracting numbers. This can be helpful when you need to quickly get an answer and do not have a calculator handy. Overall, free online calculators are a great tool to have access to and can be helpful in a variety of situations.

1. Finance Calculator

A free online finance calculator can be a very helpful tool when you are trying to figure out your finances. There are a number of different calculators available, so it is important to find one that fits your needs. When looking for a finance calculator, consider what you want to use it for. Some calculators are designed specifically for budgeting or for calculating loan payments, while others are more general purpose. Once you have found a calculator that meets your needs, be sure to familiarize yourself with how it works. Most calculators have a help section that will explain the functions and how to use them. Start by entering in the information that the calculator asks for. This may include your annual income, your monthly expenses, the interest rate on your loan, and the length of the loan. Then, let the calculator do its work. It will calculate your monthly payments, your total interest payments, and other important information. Using a finance calculator can help you stay organized and better understand your financial situation. It can also help you make more informed decisions about your money. An online finance calculator is a wonderful tool that can help you with budgeting, forecasting, and managing your personal finances. A good online finance calculator will have several features, including the ability to calculate payments, interest rates, and loan amounts. It should also allow you to compare different loan options so that you can find the best one for your needs. Additionally, a good finance calculator will let you create budgets and track your spending so that you can stay on top of your finances. Using an online finance calculator can help you make sound financial decisions and stay in control of your money.

2. Maths Calculator

When it comes to math, there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Every student has their own strengths and weaknesses, and what works for one person might not work for another. That’s why it’s important to have a variety of different tools at your disposal, including a free online maths calculator. A good maths calculator can be a huge help when you’re trying to work out complex problems or find solutions to equations. It can also give you a better understanding of how the maths concepts you’re learning are actually used in the real world. If you’re looking for a good free online maths calculator, there are plenty of options available. Some of the most popular ones include the WolframAlpha calculator, the Google calculator, and the Desmos graphing calculator. Each of these calculators has its own unique features and benefits. The WolframAlpha calculator is particularly powerful, offering access to a wide range of mathematical functions and data sets. The Google calculator is easy to use and can be accessed from any device with an internet connection. And the Desmos graphing calculator is perfect for visual learners, allowing you to plot graphs and solve equations interactively. No matter which online maths calculator you choose, be sure to spend some time practicing with it so that you can get the most out of its capabilities. With a little bit of practice, you’ll be able to tackle any maths problem that comes your way! A free online maths calculator can be extremely useful for students of all ages. A good online calculator will have a range of features that can help you with mathematical problems, from basic addition and subtraction, to more complex calculus and algebra. When choosing a calculator, it is important to consider what type of math you will be using it for. If you are just studying basic arithmetic, a simple online calculator should suffice. However, if you are studying more advanced mathematics, you may need a more comprehensive calculator with more features. One of the best things about using a free online calculator is that you can access it from anywhere, at any time. This can be really helpful if you are stuck on a problem and need some help working it out. Plus, most online calculators have built-in tutorials that can walk you through how to use the calculator and solve specific types of math problems. So, if you are looking for a handy tool to help with your maths studies, be sure to check out the free online calculators available on the internet. With so many options to choose from, you are sure to find one that meets your needs!

3. Business Calculator

As a small business owner, you know that marketing is essential to your success. But what’s the best way to allocate your marketing budget? A free online marketing calculator can help you figure out the most effective way to spend your money. There are many different types of online marketing calculators, and each one offers different information. Some calculators will tell you how much traffic your website can expected to generate, while others will help you calculate how much money you need to spend on advertising in order to reach a certain number of leads. No matter which type of calculator you use, it’s important to remember that accuracy is key. Make sure to input accurate information about your website, your target audience, and your current marketing efforts. Doing so will help ensure that you receive the most accurate results possible. If you’re not sure where to start, try using a general marketing calculator that can give you an idea of how much money you should be spending on marketing overall. Once you have a general idea of how much money you should be spending, you can then begin using more specific calculators that focus on specific aspects of your marketing plan. Overall, using a free online marketing calculator is a great way to get a better understanding of your current marketing efforts and how you can improve them. By taking the time to calculate your return on investment (ROI), you’ll be able to make more informed decisions about where to allocate your valuable marketing budget. A free online marketing calculator can help businesses of all sizes to better understand and plan their marketing budgets. A good marketing calculator will take into account a company’s budget, target market, and advertising goals in order to provide a realistic estimate of how much money should be invested in marketing in order to achieve the desired results. When choosing a marketing calculator, it is important to find one that is easy to use and that provides accurate results. Some factors that should be considered when choosing a marketing calculator include: -The size of the business -The type of business -The industry -The target market -The advertising goals -How much money is available for marketing investments Once a business has determined which factors are most important to them, they can begin to research specific marketing calculators that match their needs. Some popular online marketing calculators include: -Google AdWords Keyword Planner -Facebook Ads Manager -LinkedIn Ads Manager -Twitter Ads Manager.

The Life Changing No.1 Free Age Calculator

The free online calculator brought a revolution in the world of the internet. In this, we’ll tell you about the functions of an online calculator and recommend the best free online calculator as a bonus. Also, we’ll tell you about finance calculators, marketing calculators and maths calculators as well. But first of all, let’s get […] https://calculatorboy.com/blog/free-online-calculator/ age calculator, Free online calculator, maths calculator Finance Calculator, Free online calculator, Health calculator, Marketing Calculator

[mandatory-happiness-blog]

Erectile Dysfunction Drugs Market Declining Due..

The market for Cialis is also predicted to demonstrate a decline in revenue during the forecasting horizon. Cialis allows you preserve a considerable amount of dollars on ED. Cialis allows you preserve a large amount of dollars on ED. 2015 Viagra reviews help you preserve large amounts of hard earned cash on Netfirms. Who stated your self incorporate towards acquire rid of your splendor each time your self operate out of cash? The order ought to arrive with equipment these as promise and excess equipment this sort of as grinders in just get in direction of crank out your encounter even more enjoyable and difficulties cost-free. Within just a ton of situations, a gains convey out supply excess advantages than your down sides, more substantial than pretty much really should on your own occur towards turn into upon the minimal budget. With this in just thoughts, it’s a Fantastic concept towards believe pertaining to the design of motor vehicle your self will need ahead of oneself take a look at the Kansas Metropolis no credit rating check out automobile profits dealership. For other trucking expert services trying to get operator operators simply just, such no credit score check out funding features the business driver and the unemployed truck driver a distinctive possibility toward build a truck. They’re perplexed and a perplexed possibility can’t deliver a “certainly” determination. Local community deal bargains House much too a determination on your own can generate inside situation of local community vacationing. I after labored with a male who belonged toward a networking neighborhood, the soul motive of his becoming a member of this community was towards get hold of sales opportunities. As an effortless assessment, we went in the course of the very first 4 of the 7 forces of gross sales drive upon final 7 days’s episode. By now Pizza Hut performs within just 84 nations around the world and territories in the course of the worldwide. Are oneself by now drained of the monthly within just-retail store buying and are seeking towards come across fantastic promotions? Such as that, the full discount codes are all the year a most of day, as they are extra as a result of authentic Those who seriously together with the goods at the retail store. It would make light-weight energy of just about anything as a result we include a lot more period in direction of commit in the direction of considerable issues. It is major in direction of uncover people correct’ causes or scenarios as in direction of why a probability would purchase already, later on, not at all or under no circumstances. All causes being less happy in clinical assessment of fat redistribution: increased risk. TMR’s global and regional market intelligence coverage includes industries such as pharmaceutical, chemicals and materials, technology and media, food and beverages, and consumer goods, among others. The global erectile dysfunction drugs market report provides a 360-degree view of the treatments available in the market for erectile dysfunction (ED). Inside of this circumstance, the impacted occasion is the just one in direction of assist the revenue consultant. Comprise your self attempted seeking the web for revenue work opportunities accessible inside Los Angeles? All right, your self already understand how considerably income on your own would which include in the direction of preserve. For the duration of your presentation, your self really should be working with demo closes in direction of watch the place oneself stand. Whilst searching for low cost flower bulbs, it’s a favourable notion in direction of go away your shyness at household! I notice oneself simply just need towards skim higher than this a single mainly because it’s suggestions we’ve all read ahead of. Oneself have to have in direction of sign-up utilizing your e-mail, hence that yourself can obtain even further notification relating to your subscription. If oneself will need toward understand how towards turn into an thriving salesperson, constantly offer purchasers the easiest services oneself can offer you. Heavy procuring malls will tell concentrated purchasers toward go to model track record retailers. Discount codes or vouchers contain an necessary part in the direction of enjoy in just claiming thank yourself and creating purchasers seem to be unique. Sydney specials web-sites Deliver americans in the vicinity of Australia or even internationally in the direction of deliver remarkable buys. They can additionally solicit feed-back pertaining to the prospect of recommending items in the direction of spouse and children or buddies. The asset pool can consist of nearly any style of asset which features an income movement. This will get hold of them off of their Script and will take that they describe, justify and/or increase their very first solution. Do on your own attain actual physical sensations which includes a pit within the tummy, lump in just the throat, bouncing knee, grinding tooth, and crimp in just your neck? But one should not fall prey to such false claims as hair growth is a natural process and cannot be done within few hours. So please share this Levitra discount with anyone you know who may need it. At some areas, world wide shipping and delivery may perhaps in addition be accessible for These on the lookout for affordable LRG apparel. If you liked this article and you would like to get even more info relating to levitra di apotik kimia farma kindly go to our own web-site.

[nelliievance]

Getting Started With Biking

I gave some advice about this in a previous post, but that was four years ago and there are some updates, especially about choosing the right bike. There’s been a lot of innovation and growth in the bike industry, so an update is in order.

Traffic Fear:-A major barrier for most people to biking outside is fear of motor vehicle traffic. Understandably so, it’s not comforting to share the road with heavy fast-moving vehicles. If we can’t overcome this barrier, we may as well stick to talking about indoor cycling. But there are ways to get past it:

People feel much safer on paths separated from traffic. If you’re fortunate enough to have those in your area, but don’t have a good route to get to them, you can always chuck your bike in the trunk or on a rack and drive to the start. I had friends who love to ride on our Coyote Creek trail but did not feel safe on the street so would just drive to the start of the trail. That’s a great way to start out. They’ve since moved further north, but if they were still here I’d have tried to also coax them out onto some of the safe pleasant streets of Morgan Hill they were missing out on.

Residential neighborhoods often have quieter traffic because drivers are careful about children that may be playing.

If you’re biking for any other reason other than commuting, it is much better at any other time than morning and evening rush hours. There are fewer vehicles and the drivers are more courteous and relaxed.

If you use bike lanes, and they are not as well thought out as the ones in Amsterdam or Copenhagen, you feel safe except at intersections. The issue of right-turning vehicles is the main one. This is less of an issue in my area because the bike lanes become dotted lines and often turn green, which alert both drivers and cyclists to the situation. Drivers will carefully look for bikes before merging into this turn lane. This is again much better at all times but rush hour, during which there can be aggravated and distracted drivers.

You can map out safe and pleasant routes with your car first and then later use them for bike outings. I feel safe riding on pretty much any road in my town, but some are a lot more pleasant than others. When I ride in our larger and busier neighbor to the north, San Jose, I stick to streets that I know are quieter and/or have well-designed bike lanes.

Choosing the right bike:

There are by now a bewildering amount of choices, and the advent of fairly lightweight electric bikes has added some other new alternatives. It is nice to see all this innovation for bikes geared towards us “regular” folks. Those that want high-end performance bikes have plenty of options, too, but they can find their own way. I want to help guide through the large array of choices for the rest of us. I gave some guidance on basic choices of bike types and comfort issues such as saddle design in a previous post. But there’s been rapid innovation in the four years since I wrote that. I happen to live in the town which has the World Corporate headquarters of Specialized bikes, and my great local bike shop is a Specialized dealer, so I’m a fan of them, so forgive me if I use them more in my examples. There are many worthy competitive brand like Giant, Trek, Cannondale, etc.

As a newcomer looking at comfortable and inexpensive bikes, there are more options. What was originally considered a comfort bike was a hybrid of road and mountain bikes. But now there are “plush” road bikes, such as the Specialized Roubaix, that have more relaxed geometry and work on rougher roads, and there is a new “gravel” bike category of bikes that can handle even rougher terrain. Technology from these bikes is trickling down to lower end bikes.

A good piece of now-mature technology is hydroformed aluminum, which allows lightweight, inexpensive, but attractive aluminum frames to be prevalent. And good quality carbon frames have also come down in price.

A really good piece of tech that is much more prevalent and inexpensive is disk brakes. These have better stopping power, even in the wet, but add little weight. And they allow much wider tires to be used. My Sirrus has 38 mm tires on it, that allow me to go on some seriously rough surfaces, but it still rolls fast enough on the roads so I can keep up on group rides. But just by getting a spare set of narrower road oriented tires, and adding on some inexpensive clip-on aerobars, I could easily make it faster on the road if I wanted to do a time trial. This versatility without breaking the bank is nice, and disk brakes make it possible. You can get a quality lightweight bike with disk brakes and decent components new for about US $800.

Example of an good lightweight inexpensive hybrid bike- Specialized Sirrus 2.0

I mentioned “crank forward” bikes like the Electra Townie in my previous post. These are a great option for beginners, because you can put your feet on the ground without getting off the saddle so it feels more secure. Trek has acquired Electra and has kept this line quite active. There are also many good electric assist versions of Townies now.

By far the biggest change has been the surge in popularity of electric bikes. Manufacturers have also done a great job of smoothly integrating elecric-assistinto the frame design. And now local bike shops will enthusiastically support them. I especially like the advent of more lightweight ebikes like the Specialized “SL” series. These are not as powerful as some of the larger heavier motors, but plenty good enough to do the job. I like the Specialized concept of “2X you”: The lighter weight motors can match your power up to one hundred percent. So when you’re riding it feels suddenly like you’re twice as powerful. These are still not feather-weight Tour de France bikes, but can get down below 30 lbs. total weight for the bike. That’s reasonable to lift onto a bike rack or into a trunk, which many of my local group of older riders routinely do. These bikes allow riders of widely varying abilities to ride together. Some have regular bikes, some have ebikes and use less assist, and some use more assist. The great equalizer. The main problem with these bikes is still price. They’re getting better, so you can get a name brand model starting about US$3000, but that still high for a lot of people. It’s a lot more affordable if you’re using it instead of a car, though.

Support for electric bikes is of major importance, and that is covered nicely if you buy a name brand at a bike shop, they’ll take good care of it for you. It is a reason I would not recommend getting an add-on electric assist kit unless you have someone locally that can work on it or are clever enough to work on the electrics yourself. My electric assist kit served me well for two years, I had fun, and put lots of miles on it. Then I started to have issues, and my local bike shop, and others in the area, did not want to touch it, and I had bought it from someone fifty miles away. I tried fixing it myself and was unsuccessful. An ebike may well be in my future when I need help keeping up, but I’ll only do it when I can get it from a local shop.

Example of the clean look of modern electric bikes. A factory Trek Alliant 8s, left, vs my Trek hybrid with a kit.

I have found a good website with bike information and reviews for various bike categories, which I recommend trying out. This site has good reviews of various bikes, and some nice rider stories.

Comfort Issues

There hasn’t been too much change in this area since my previous post. The most important point is that there is a tradeoff between comfort and speed. A lot of changes to make your position on the bike more aerodynamic also make you more “hunched over”. I’m to the point where upright and comfortable is more important these days, as long as I can keep up on group rides. But electric assist gets rid of this trade-off. You can be as upright as you like, kick in with a little assist, and be just as fast.

And there is always the option of a recumbent. I’d recommend trying out a nice upright setup on a hybrid, including a crank-forward one like the Townie, first. And give your butt a little time to adjust. I got back into biking after a more than 20 year absence when I got arthritis. I’d been an avid rider, then switched to running, then came back. During that 20 years my butt had completely forgotten that it is ok to be on a saddle. I started out with a decent hybrid and comfortable saddle. On my first ride my butt was whining within 5 minutes. I gutted it out for half an hour, and went home demoralized thinking about selling the bike. But I went out the next time and made it 35 minutes. Within about a week it wasn’t so bad, within two weeks I was fine.

I recommend going through this trial because there is a lot of convenience to having a local bike shop for conventional bikes. If you are lucky enough to have a local recumbent dealer that is a fine option too (mine is over sixty miles away).

But I do love my recumbent, too, and am willing to tinker with it myself to have it as an option. They can be a great comfort choice for cruising around on. One other trade off is they are not the best for riding around town. For example, they’re a bit more awkward starting off on than a conventional bike, which is an issue if you have to stop at traffic signals. If I have an errand to run I grab my hybrid, not my recumbent. But for a long cruise, the recumbent calls to me… If you want to learn more about these, here’s a couple of links:

bentrider online

recumbents

There a lot of different configurations with recumbents, starting with the issue of tricycles vs bicycles. For example, there is short wheelbase (with the cranks out in front of the forks, like mine, or long wheelbase. The former take up less room and are easier to store and transport. The book The Recumbent Bicycle by Gunnar Fehlau, is a great overview. It’s a little dated, from 2004, but you can get the latest details from the two sites above. I think you can see why I recommended a local bike shop and uprights first. Unless you have a local recumbent dealer, recumbents are a rabbit hole you can disappear down (or a fascinating hobby, depending on your point of view).

Easy Racer Long Wheelbase recumbent, a classic, comfortable ride. But try putting that in your trunk. (www.Amazon.com/books)

Getting Started With Biking published first on https://steroidsca.tumblr.com/

[gurguliare]

pls...if you so desire, write kurapika's feelings about committing violent acts

Of course his dreams pretended that his family was alive. He would fall asleep in a new place or in a place he hadn’t visited in some time, a safe house maybe, and then? His mother would shake him awake as roughly as she ever had (not knowing her own strength, she claimed). She’d look at him askance—what have you done to yourself!—and begin to smile. His mother had no sense of humor when she fought and a good one after winning. In the dream his eyes were red and that was why she laughed, although before when his eyes turned red she was always concerned, even if it happened for no reason. But that had to why she was laughing, because otherwise it would have been because he had thought she was dead; and if he had made such a mistake he couldn’t bear for her to know. His face was hot around his eyes and out to his hairline; his hair prickled like he could feel it growing. 

She dragged him out to the garden, where spring was at its height. There his father hung laundry, and Grandfather sat listening to him discourse on the planting, bemused, as even the elders occasionally were, by how slowly and meaningfully his father could talk about nothing. And Pairo was there, running his fingers between the morning-dried linens; when no one was looking pulling a sheet over his head. From inside that cowl he stared straight at Kurapika—he saw better in low light—and mouthed, Why are you still here?

Because he had been supposed to go away, to the outer world. But only he and Pairo knew that.

All throughout Kurapika felt his mother’s hand in his, tightening proudly. In the end he woke up clutching both hands together, so tightly his pulse seemed to swell through the bone. He should have let go then. But he forgot, and kept his palms together, emptying out the memory of the gesture, and leaving just his painful, thoughtless grip.

And then sometimes it was one person who survived: it was his father, in a harness that strangely restricted his movements, what Kurapika finally understood was a spider’s web. It was his mother, blinded but alive, begging and then ordering him severely to return her eyes. Sometimes Sheila led him to their secret cave, where she had hidden the whole clan when the spiders came, remembering how he and Pairo had helped her, and wanting to return the favor—although she herself was a spider, she had defected, the dream explained—and he would go there in dread, knowing somehow they were dead, and she was lying, and they were dead, and there in the cavern they were, tired and frightened, and Grandfather took him by the hand and said, the book saved us, which was wrong. It was so wrong that that should be true, what he had hoped for—then he wanted to cry, when he woke up, he was that ashamed to have been taken in.

He wasn’t prepared to have dreams in which Uvogin, too, was alive—unconditionally returned. His enemy appeared first in the good dreams of home, with the other dead. Uvogin stopped him on the path to school. Uvogin towered over him, because he was home again and a child, but that didn’t prevent the brute from tossing him around like a doll. Kurapika would scramble, dodge, roll, but it was pointless, marking time until Uvogin’s fist caught up; it felt literally like he was dancing, counting dully in his head, until big fingers pinched his leg and flung him into the air.

“Is there something you can do to stop me dreaming?” he asked Senritsu, once, on stakeout. She paused in the act of transferring a handful of french fries to her open mouth—she liked to bite into five or six at a time, a habit totally unknowable to Kurapika—and he had enough time to reevaluate that he added, “Or give me only pleasant dreams. I understand that dreaming has health benefits.”

She hesitated longer, and, with a sigh, eased the fries back into the cup. “Have you been having nightmares?”

“Why, do I not look tired?”

“Oh, you do. —Oh!” She rolled her eyes and helped herself to a fry after all, in lieu of any apology; after a second, he let himself smile. “But… your heart… lately, when you sleep, it’s sounded happy. All afternoon, I remember, it was going like a drum.”

They had napped in a motel room before setting up camp outside the significantly more luxurious hotel where his targets, at some point tonight, would materialize for the sale. Although probably she could hear and interpret his heart from the far side of the Nostrade mansion. “So I was excited,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I was happy.”

Senritsu, sobering, said, “Doesn’t it? You like when you lose control. It’s a comfort to know you can. It proves that what happened, happened.”

“In a dream, whatever happens didn’t happen,” Kurapika pointed out.

“That’s not always true. Don’t you ever have dreams that use your memories?”

“Yes. They’re inaccurate.”

Senritsu shrugged and started to crank her seat back. “I didn’t mean that, anyway. You were happy. Like a great burden had been lifted from your shoulders, and your heart was as light as the rest of you. I said a drum, but what I mean is—an open sound.” She held up her fingers in a diamond, and jerked them apart. “Boom boom boom boom.” Then she did her usual conductor’s twirl, which he found comforting, since it at least simulated professional expertise. Unlike boom boom boom.

“There!” said Senritsu, sitting up straight (and getting tangled in her seatbelt). “By the pool. No—he’s getting into the hot tub.”

Kurapika, already out of the car, didn’t stop to ask her what a hot tub’s aural signature was. But he thought about it, while restraining the seller, and then waiting for and tying up the would-be buyer, and commencing negotiations.

In the end he came away with an address and verification of one of the photographs he had purchasedonline. Senritsu used her Nen ability to calm both distressed parties, and from the parking lot, Kurapika called the hotel to alert them, anonymously, to possible intruders. On the drive out of the city, Senritsu said, “Yes, I think I could guarantee you a good dream.”

Kurapika had still been wondering vaguely about the hot tub. It took him a moment to recall the substance of their earlier conversation.

“But,” she said, adjusting her neck rest, “it’s more complicated than that. The music that I play to curb your rage is essentially a constructed environment, tailored to… well, it’s an interesting question, isn’t it? I’m not a Manipulator. I can’t force you to see anything. When I extend my aura to you, it responds to your goals as well as mine. So your mind converts a sense of strength and control into an image… in your case, I remember, we were in a forest.

“That’s the image your conscious mind associates with calm. If, however, I projected my aura with the embedded command, ‘be happy,’ and your subconscious absorbed that into the dream, who knows what would occur?”

“I see,” lied Kurapika. “It doesn’t sound like such a good idea, in that case. Forget I mentioned it.”

Senritsu hummed. “Very well.”

“…‘But’?”

“But it’s an interesting application. It had never occurred to me to try to soothe someone already asleep.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Also, it would be a way for you to confirm what I’ve already told you: if I’m right, your dreams under the influence of this technique will be similar to those you’ve been experiencing on your own. It wouldn’t take long. When we stop for the night…?”

“You mean ‘for the day,’” said Kurapika, nodding vaguely at the grey line of dawn.

*

So in the end he lay down, at the safe house, on a futon slightly younger than he was, and Senritsu unpacked her flute. By now the light was strong, though it still cut almost horizontally—overhead, in fact, for someone flat on the low bed. But it unrolled a stripe of yellow against her cheek, her chin in the shade even weaker than usual: he had a fleeting, distant intuition as to how much he valued her, but it was like evaluating the relationship between two strangers, and what he really felt was impatience, mirrored in her sleepy eyes. She lifted the flute at some distance from her head, as if offering it to someone else, and then brought it to her lips and began to play.

He fell asleep almost immediately, though he had been afraid that, between excitement and disappointment, he would be too keyed-up to rest at all. Nothing was as bitter to him as failing to sleep; an hour of his life lost for every second of strength was bad, but how much worse—an hour lost every hour? And although he, perforce, found Senritsu’s music calming, he had always thought that part of that effect was because it demanded complete attention: whether because of her talent, or the magnetism of her aura, he wanted to map the sound as he heard it—it was around the edges of that compulsion that the meadow, the forest, bloomed up. But how to fall asleep while paying attention?

However he did it, it was easy: one moment awake, worrying about whether he would sleep, and then slipping successively downward, it seemed—it never went dark, he never wasn’t watching, but suddenly he rose, without weight, feeling unusually as if leaving his body behind—not forever, but in bursts, his will plunging ahead and dream-body following—he was at the door. He fully expected, on the other side, a meadow. In his heart he had believed that the calm afforded him in that space was happiness, of the kind Senritsu offered: he remembered his gratitude, the first time she showed her power, and kept him from killing Uvogin too soon.

He opened the door. It was night. The moon glowed red over the canyon.

From across his knuckles, the chain jerked. Uvogin struggled and roared, but was punctilious enough about testing Kurapika’s creation—a better assurance of quality than Kurapika could have asked for. And now, because this was the promised happy dream, he felt each lurch with a shudder of terror, waiting for the scene to change. He remembered all of his waking life and—he believed—all his dreams, he had “access” to a whole world, and a world he controlled: he remembered choices, one after another, as freely made and desperate in life as in his dreams. Because nothing compared to the urgency of his dreams, so that was the standard to measure by. Here.

He walked closer. Uvogin’s bared teeth were enormous, but otherwise, he had a human face, for all the fur and spittle. Happiness? He wasn’t happy. Satisfied, vigilant, growing nauseous—but Uvogin wouldn’t talk. Maybe in this dream the man would answer.

He shot the Judgment Chain into Uvogin’s heart. Uvogin screamed, and the chains snapped.

Kurapika flung himself to the ground. Stupid: it was a child’s instinct, hearing thunder. Uvogin ran forward, silent, and Kurapika clapped his hands over his ears. The blade of the chain was still in Uvogin’s chest and the broken length of chain trailed down; just as they both noticed, Uvogin tripped.

It took him a long time to fall, and his landing did shake the ground. Then he lay still. There were dust clouds. Kurapika didn’t try to get up. I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, he thought, still nauseous, and heavy with horror at his own futile relief: as without sound Uvogin raised his head up, and looked back.