#and i know the adhesive will wear down over time but even the off brand mat was not nearly as sticky to start

[mochateadri]

so i bought the intended cutting mat for cricut thinking it would fix the issue of my stickers occasionally cutting uneven or completely off center, but ive yet to be able to tell cos it is absolutely eating my sticker sheets because it is way too sticky

it ruined half of one sheet and it took me over 20 minutes just to get all the stuck paper off, and even with the cricut brand sheets it was a nightmare to peel off and each sticker ended up curling horribly unlike when they pop off nicely from the off brand mat, but they were at least salvageable, if they werent just the stickers for sealing letters though theyd be unsellable because some of them the backing peeled off partially

i cant winnnn augh

[vinvantae]

Baby Steps

16/26

<<< Previous Part

Warnings - mentions of death, explicit language

***********************************************

“It’s here! It’s here!”

Ben practically skipped into your room - waving the black parcel above his head. They’d made him a prototype of his merchandise for next season and now it was in his hands. You looked up from your phone, before placing it on the bedside table, your hand resting on your bump. His eyes were bright and he had the goofiest smile on his face.

“I know it’s only a small thing but-“

“But nothing, love, I know the little things make it more real for you.” You hummed, smiling kindly at him. “Do a fashion show for me then?”

He peeled the adhesive back and pulled out the jacket; it was a soft shell with a fleece lining, in the bright papaya orange that you both spent most of your life in. He grinned and turned it so the back was facing you, a large 41 emblazoned across the back.

“Look!” His smile was contagious as he unzipped it and pulled it on. “Perfect fit!”

“I’m gonna steal it from you.” You laughed as he did a little twirl. “Wear it all the time.”

“I can’t wait for you to wear our number.” He beamed, walking over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand coming to rest over yours on his bump. “His first outfit is gonna be a little McLaren babygrow with Daddy’s number on the front.”

“I can’t wait.”

You brushed your hand over the sealed package, the jacket hadn’t been opened again since that day. He had insisted on not wearing it again until he made the team, but that day never came and it broke your heart, so you were going to wear it today.

But you knew that it was going to smell like him. That when you opened the bag his scent was going to fill every part of your senses and you were worried it was going to fade. You had things of his at home but over the years his smell had slowly begun to disappear, especially from the T-shirts you slept in, and the jacket was the one thing you knew would stay the same.

“You don’t have to wear it if it’s going to upset you.” Dan came up behind you, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You’ve got his old shirt he wore during free practice in your bag too.”

“He always wanted to wear this when he made the team… I feel like I owe it to him to take it to the track, at least once.” You said quietly. “…I just know it’s gonna smell like him. And I know that sounds crazy but-“

“It doesn’t sound crazy, love… when my Nan dropped me off a bunch of sweaters that used to be my Grandpa’s… the smell of him set me right off. Cried my eyes out.” He hummed softly. “Do you want to be alone? I can take Milo out for breakfast.”

“No, I… I think I’d like you here. Just in case I spiral.” You chuckled nervously, taking a deep breath before sliding your finger under the tape to peel it back.

As you pulled back the top, your heart sank - it didn’t smell like him, it didn’t smell like anything. It smelt brand new. You thought that getting to smell him again would be bad, but this hurt like you couldn’t even begin to put into words - but you didn’t have to. Dan could see the look on your face. He simply turned you in his arms and pulled you into his chest as a soft sob escaped you. He had to do something. Anything.

He ran his fingers through your hair, just letting you have a cry while he tried to think of what he could do to fix this. Because today was hard enough for you already, and he wanted to try his best to help you in any way he could.

“Why don’t you hop in the shower, okay?” The driver suggested, pulling back just enough to look down at you, wiping away your tears. “It’ll be okay, I promise. It’s still his number, he’d love it.”

You solemnly placed the jacket down on the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Dan didn’t waste a second, immediately dialling the only other person he thought might know Ben as well as you.

“Dan, mate, everything alright?” Lewis sounded off guard, he and Dan were always friendly but the Australian barely text him let alone call.

“What aftershave did Ben wear?”

“Uhm..?”

Dan sighed softly, running a hand over his face as he heard the shower start. “Look I haven’t got long to explain, but y/n took Ben’s jacket out for the first time since he died and it doesn’t smell like him… at all. It’s like it’s brand new.”

“Shit.” Lewis cursed. “I actually think I have the same one with me. I’ll be right up.”

If you had told Dan, at the start of the season, that he’d be sneaking Lewis into his hotel room… he probably would’ve laughed, but definitely wouldn’t have believed you. But the small toiletries bag in Lewis’ hand as the Brit stepped into the room, made him feel relieved.

“You got it?”

“Yeah. Like I know it won’t be perfect because they used this fabric softener and stuff as well and he always smelt like that, and he had this moisturiser that she got him…”

“You two were close then?”

Dan didn’t miss the small smile at the corner of Lewis’ mouth. “Yeah, was my best mate. It’s why I gotta take care of y/n, you know? I owe it to him.”

“When you say take care…”

The Brit had to bite back a laugh. “Oh god no. She’s like a sister to me… bro, she’s all yours. Sorry if that wasn’t clear.”

Dan felt a small sense of relief. “I mean it’s hard to believe someone could be just friends with a guy who looks like you.”

“You coming on to me?” Lewis smirked, raising a teasing brow.

The Australian’s cheeks flushed a soft pink. “I mean-“

The drivers were cut off by the sound of the shower turning off and they began to scramble - Lewis fished the aftershave out of his bag and gave the jacket a light spray. “I’ll see you later mate.”

The timing was perfect, just as Lewis dipped out of the room, the bathroom door swung open and you stepped out. “Were you just talking to someone?”

“Nah just myself, wanna go get Milo from Carlos?” He hummed, now stood in front of the mirror, running a small amount of product through his curls.

He held his breath as you moved around the room, the jacket laid out on the bed where you’d left it as you shimmied into some trousers. The driver watched your fingers trace over the fabric before you picked it up and draped it over your shoulders.

You frowned and brought the collar to your nose, the smell of Ben’s aftershave rushing through you. “Wh-what? H-how…”

You pulled the jacket up and nuzzled into the soft fabric, the soft woodsy smell relaxed you - all of the stress you felt before suddenly melted away. You turned to Dan, who still had his back to you, not looking at you in the mirror.

“…how did you do this?” You whispered, stepping up behind him.

The Australian turned around, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. “Does it smell okay?”

“It’s perfect… thank you.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling into his neck.

As he slid his arms around your waist and held you close - it should’ve bothered him that you smelt like another man but this was different. He could feel how relaxed you were, almost like layers of stress had melted out of your tight muscles. The driver traced his fingers up and down your spine. And this wasn’t just another man, Ben was your fiancé, the father of your son and you’d lost him in a tragic way - so he wouldn’t dare try and take those feelings from you.

“Seriously, how did you..?”

“…I called Lewis.” He admitted, blushing a little as you pulled away. “He brought a bottle up for me, luckily he’s staying in this hotel too.”

“So you were talking to someone.” You hummed, stroking the curls at the nape of his neck. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I wanted to. I saw how much it upset you, baby.” Dan pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, before taking your hand in his, checking his watch on his other wrist. “Let’s go get your boy.”

Carlos was staying in a different hotel, thankfully within walking distance so the two of you began to walk over. Dan squeezed your hand gently before letting go, letting your hand fall to your side - still knowing you were cautious about PDA.

As the feeling of his hand left yours, you felt your breath get stuck in your throat - a familiar feeling washed over you as you looked at the driver, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling you were too scared to get, the feeling you’d been pushing down ever since you met Daniel, but there was just no fighting it any more.

You were falling for him. Hard.

Max was right, not just any man would fly out to apologise to you. Not just any man would get Ben’s aftershave just to cheer you up.

“Wait.”

“Forget something?” Dan asked, looking back, a kind smile on his lips. He stepped closer to you.

You cupped his face in your hands and pulled him down into a kiss. As you moved back, there was a look in his eyes- it was so tender and you felt safe. “There’s something I need to do, before we go to the track today.”

“Oh? Of course, what is it?”

“…I want us to be a thing.” You whispered, meeting his eyes. “I know I’ve been putting it off, and that’s unfair to you but-“

“Hey…” He brought his hand up to your jaw, brushing his thumb across your skin. “I’d wait as long as you needed. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I am… I’m really falling for you and I’ve not had these feelings for a very long time.” You took his hand. “So, what do you think?”

His face split into a beautiful, bright grin. “You have no idea what it means to hear you saying that. I’m really falling for you, too. I’d love for you to be my girlfriend, y/n.”

“My boyfriend.” Your voice was soft, a smile on your face that the driver hadn’t seen before - it was shy, but your eyes were full of a bright sparkle. “I’m so grateful for you and everything you’ve done for me.”

“And I’d do it all again, a million times over.” Dan hummed, kissing your nose, making you giggle softly - your heart bursting with joy. “Now, the little man is definitely going to be waiting for us.”

“Okay, let’s go.” You took his hand once again, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The two of you carried on walking towards Carlos’ hotel, your hands now comfortably entwined - your hesitancy about PDA long gone. Dan was who you wanted to be with and you didn’t care who knew it.

“So, 41?”

You smiled fondly. “We met on the 4th of January. He was always a sappy shit like that…”

“That’s sweet.”

“He always said that he was racing for us both, that I was in the car with him.” Dan’s arm slipped around your waist as you spoke, holding you close as you spoke. “I really appreciate how cool you are about all of this, not a lot of guys would listen to a girl go on about her dead fiancé…”

He shrugged a little. “He meant a lot to you, he was a big part of your life and I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough with me to talk to me about him.”

You smiled softly. He truly was such a wonderful man and you were so grateful for him. It was scary falling for him but you were more than eager to jump, knowing he’d be there to catch you.

***************************************************

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[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 1.5 - Young Yunichika

5. INTERMISSION

Finally came to terms with the fact that the dialects are going to be an on and off thing

Translation Notes

1. A zabuton is a flat floor cushion for kneeling

Previous || Index || Next

Haijima did not go to the end-of-term ceremony, but his absence wasn’t much of a topic in class. The ceremony ended without a hitch, and the classroom was filled with the excited buzz of spring break mood. While thinking, I wish I didn’t bring it today, as he felt annoyed by his bulky enamel bag, when he was about to go home…

“Oi, Yuni. Hmm? Haijima’s not here?”

The one who showed his face at the classroom’s door was the teacher who served as the advisor for the boys’ volleyball team. He didn’t seem to have any volleyball experience and was a ghost advisor until now, but unluckily—should that be said?—his work had been increasing lately due to Haijima’s transfer.

“He’s absent today, Haijima.”

“If that’s the case, then you’ll do. Here.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m second-best to Haijima. What’s this…Ah.”

When his eyes dropped to the printout passed to him, he saw that it was a timetable for the days the gym was used during spring break.

“There aren’t any other clubs that used the gym so much during spring break, so I got all the days you wanted easily. What are you going to do?”

“Ugh…”

For almost every day during the break, “Boys’ volleyball” was written in one of the three boxes of morning, noon, and afternoon (and two boxes in succession depending on the day!) without fail.

It would be a good opportunity for Haijima to practice intensively, but…we finally have not that much homework, so I wanna do something more…Doesn’t that guy have anything else he wants to do? Is it normal for prestigious sports clubs to have such a practice schedule for long vacations? I see, there’s an unsurpassable gap between them and small public sports clubs like us.

Despite feeling fed up, he stuffed the printout into his bag and said, “I’ll give it to Haijima.”

“I’m countin’ on you. But I really wish you’d put yourself in my shoes. Your advisor has to be with you pretty much be with you everyday. My long-awaited vacation…”

The advisor’s awareness was increasing with this.  

***

Certainly, he remembered that it was this house when it was right before him. Warm lanterns lit up the four corners of his memories that had been closed in by a monochrome snowscape, vivid color returned, sounds could be heard, and images came alive.  

Most of time, Kuroba just waited for “Chika” to come and play. Chika’s grandfather only brought him along when he came to play shogi with Kuroba’s grandfather. Even though Chika promised every time before he went home that “we’ll definitely play tomorrow too,” it was always up to their two grandfathers when they would be able to play together again, and the two of them were too young to decide.

Kuroba had only gone to Chika’s house once. They were supposed to be able to play together today, but he heard that Chika couldn’t come because he had a fever and threw a tantrum about going to visit him. He just wanted to play with him, of course, while using visiting him as an excuse.

He forced Chika, who was laid up with his pale face flushed, to get up and then compared their cards. His cheeks were gradually swelling up, so Kuroba cackled about how funny his face looked and Chika got cranky. Chika had mumps—at that time his grandparents didn’t even notice, and that night, the Kuroba house got a panicked phone call and Kuroba later developed symptoms of the mumps he got right from Chika.

His memories were being recalled one after the other, and the jumble of nostalgia and embarrassment filled his body with an itchy feeling.

“Ooe…”

He was confused for a moment when he saw a nameplate that wasn’t Haijima’s surname, but that was natural because this was his maternal grandparents’ home. He left the front door temporarily and strolled along the fence. This fence seemed towering in the past, but now he could easily look into the garden if he rose on his heels a little. On this early afternoon in the middle of March, the storm door on the porch was wide open, even though at this time of the day when the temperature was at its highest, it might or might not reach ten degrees Celsius.

Haijima was lying around on the porch.

“…?”

The heck is he doing?

He thought, knitting his brows and staring. His spindly back was facing this side, and it seemed like he was just rolling around without a pillow or zabuton. (1) He was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and his feet were bare under this wintry sky. You could see from his getup that he didn’t feel like going to school from the start, which he felt a bit exasperated by.

“Haijimaaa!”

He called out to him beyond the fence, but got no answer.

“Hey!”

He thought he was being ignored, but he could see headphones buried between his hair.

“Yes, yes, who is it…oh my, aren’t you the young master of the head house?”

A petite old lady who emerged from the Japanese-styled room inside answered instead. It was the old lady who accompanied him on his first day. “He-hello,” Kuroba said, making a shy smile.

“You can’t come in from over there, so please go around to the front. Kimichika, won’t you get up if you’re not going to sulk in bed? You really are only getting taller and taller, and it is getting to be a bother. The measure on the porch won’t be enough before long.”

“What…”

Pulling off his headphones roughly, Haijima groaned in annoyance and got up.

“Haijima.”

When he called his name again, that back stiffened in surprise. He lowered his headphones to his neck, put on his glasses and turned around to him. There was an adhesive bandage pasted diagonally above his right eye and on his right temple. He got cut by the snow when Yorimichi knocked him down.

“…I’ll be right there.”

He didn’t look eager, but he said that and quietly got up.

“What are you saying? I told you to get out of the cold already.”

“So noisy, geez…”

Maybe his grandmother’s speech rubbed off on him, but there was a bit of dialect mixed into his words when he cursed in irritation. Just for a moment, he connected with the “Chika” Kuroba remembered in the same picture as this house in his mind.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

After he went around to the front and waited before the gate, Haijima came out, dressed as how he was earlier with just his bare feet stuffed in sneakers. When he gave him the printout of the practice days he was entrusted with, he only gave the weak reaction of “Aah…”, and then silence. He was the kind of guy who would never be unenthusiastic when it came to volleyball, but today he looked awfully lifeless. It was like at the moment he grabbed Yorimichi, some big circuit within his body got burned out.

He cleared his throat to shake off this awkward atmosphere and broke the ice.

“Um, you know, I’ve decided that I’m not gonna hang out with Yori-chan for a while, and I’ll make sure things won’t turn out like how you’re worried they will…Er, I think I’m starting to enjoy volleyball, and I wanna play it a bit more. So, don’t tell me to quit right now…”

Haijima raised his eyes from the printout. Due to the bandage, he seemed to have difficulties opening his right eye, making his expression look even worse than usual. His eyeballs lightly swam back and forth, like he was searching for the words he lost sight of. Is he lost? That’s rare.

“…Um, that thing.”

A mumble came from the tip of his pouting lips.

“Anything, after that…”

Haijima, who wasn’t supposed to have words like “mumbling” or “hemming and hawing” inputted in his head, was hesitating greatly to say something. From that…? Was he worrying about whether or not Kuroba knew the rest of Yorimichi’s story? That Haijima cared about someone’s reaction? Mm, this guy’s acting pretty weird today.

He purposely sighed hard. He didn’t want to see Haijima so beaten in and down like this. Well, the usual Haijima was troublesome in his own way.

“I’m telling you, I didn’t hear anything from Yori-chan, and I didn’t look you up at all.”

It was half a lie. He did try to look him up. But he couldn’t say that honestly in front of Haijima. Unlike him, he could even lie to avoid hurting the person right in front of him.

Haijima’s expression was still sullen. Does he not trust what I say that much?

“You know I hang around with Yori-chan, right? Grandpa and all our relatives have branded him as a big fool and gave up on him, but I know that he has his good points too. No matter what anyone says, I hang around with him because I like him. So, what I want to say is that it doesn’t matter to me what those Tokyo guys, whose faces or names I don’t even know, want to say about you. Why should I rely on what some guy far away says about you when you’re right in front of me?”

He was desperate to know what happened in Tokyo, but he just didn’t have the courage to press the “enter” key. Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t that he stopped halfway because he wasn’t brave enough; it was because he wasn’t brave enough that he tried to look him up.

“That’s why, I’ll make up my own judgement about you.”

His ears turned hot as he said something that was kind of awkward and clumsy. He was so embarrassed that his legs wanted to escape from that spot, and he bounced on his heels as he said it. His enamel bag swung behind his back. Did he get through to him? He was someone whose understanding of Japanese was quite worrying after all. He was curious as to what kind of face he would make. But he couldn’t look him straight in the eye.

Oh well, if I can see him tomorrow, that probably means it got through. Spring break is packed with club activities after all.

“So, see you at school tomorrow.”

Previous || Index || Next

[joshslater]

The Cupbearer

This is a relay, doing a continuation of tamed-jock’s continuation of jd07201990′s story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Infection+2:25

Let's write a captains log, like Tyler and I used to do, only this time I have actual observations and events to record. It is now approximately 2 hours and 25 minutes since he placed the cup on me. I immediately went home, and have done some preliminary studies of the object.

My most immediate concern is the attachment mechanism. I can really only think of three, suction, adhesion or some sort of mechanical attachment to my... thing. Observations are a bit limited as the object responds to stimulii. In the first instance when I grabbed it in the rest room there wasn't much of a response. The feeling was similar to that of a vacuum pull in the whole area, but I'm not feeling a constant force as I would expect from vacuum. Also, when the cup was applied it felt like it was filled with, or quickly filled up with a gel of some sort.

Wanting to rule out vacuum, or in best case break the vacuum and remove the object, I attempted to insert a narrow tube from my model steam engine in between the skin and the object. That did provoke a response. It felt like the contents of the cup was rapidly replaced or infused with icy-hot gel. This entry has been delayed by approximately 40 minutes, as I have been lying on my bed and desperately trying to avoid touching it. Every time I fail I get like a pulse of renewed icy-hot in the cup.

Infection+2:50

I've decided to avoid further experiments and focus on observation and external research. The cup itself appears to be mix of carbon fiber, titanium and some other fairly high tech materials. This points to high tech origin, but beside the logotype I find no other markings like brand, manufacturer, patents, serial number etc. My first attempts to Google this kind of product or stories from someone with similar experience come up short. I took a picture of the logo, cleaned it up and sent it through USPTO image search to see if anyone has a trademark on it, but came up empty as well.

It sure smells bad. I need to come up with an excuse for mum.

Infection+6:00

I told mum that I'm having my scent-month, as if every teenage boy has one. I said Tyler just had his, so if she checks with his parents they will confirm it. Why does it smell so bad though? It is clearly the cup that emits it, since the smell came on pretty strong only seconds after Tyler attached it. Is it distraction? Is it to mask something else? Is it to make the wearer body conscious or odor conscious and avoid contact with other people? Is it to acclimate the wearer to the smell? I don't see how I can answer any of these questions purely from observation though. Something to sleep on perhaps. How do you pee with this thing?

Infection+6:15

So the pee just kind of filters out in the lower part of the cup. If you want to use a toilet you have to basically sit on it reverse, do you thing, and then wait a few minutes for it all to drain out. A big drawback is that you have to step out of pants and boxers to even sit reverse on a toilet.

Infection+10:20

I think the damn thing just woke me up. Or I'm just have a restless night because of all that is happening, and more importantly what will happen. Fuck you Tyler!

Infection+12:05

It's definitely the cup that woke me. Just as I was waking up I could feel some sort of vibration down there. What other crazy shit have they packed into the device. My bedroom smells like a locker room. Thanks Tyler!

Infection+13:55

Fuck it, I'm getting up. I'll pee in the shower.

Infection+14:20

So that didn't work as well as I hoped. I could pee fine, but when I turned on the shower it was like pouring water in a gym shoe. If it smelled bad before, it absolutely reeks now. I think I'm gonna steal one of mum’s pads and tape it to the front, since it is still leaking God knows what and then wrap it in plastic and hope that contains the worst of it.

Infection+17:30

I didn't think of mobility enough. Jeans are clearly out of the question, so I went to school in chinos. It's bad enough that the cup is rigid, over sized and fully attached. Add to that some extra padding and cram it in chinos that aren't exactly lose to begin with, and you have something that looks funny stationary and awkward/hilarious when moving.

If I walk slowly I think I might come up with a gait that might be described as exaggerated jock sway, which would be step up from whatever ludicrous I'm doing now. Damn, I should have practiced yesterday.

I need to find some better pants, because these are too tight and restrictive.

Infection+21:30

My efforts to contain the smell isn’t fooling anyone, but I hope it just smells like I have a bad hygiene day. My crotch is a sauna though. The plastic wrap needs to go. Tyler kept his distance. I wonder if he is ashamed, or if he doesn't give a shit. Perhaps they have some sort of protocol he adheres to.

Day 2, 4:40 pm

Let's stop fucking around with the childish infection timer. This is serious. I found something sobering when doing some online patent search.

I was just blindly trying to find patents for any of the different things this cup does, and managed to find a description on "bio-polymer adhesion complex and application for individualized restriction control". I don't understand more than a fraction of what is written, but in the schematics there is a drawing of EXACTLY the cup I'm wearing. The list of example uses in the description includes prison inmates and persons under house arrest. This is a retrofitted fucking ankle bracelet.

It's originally designed to never come the fuck off through tampering. Fuck.

Day 2, 6:30 pm

Mum gave me some Vichy Laboratories excessive odor control deo roll on she bought at the pharmacy. Roll on to what, exactly? Well, she can only solve problems she knows about I guess. Should I tell her? Would she mind having a sports jock son? She would probably tell me to do whatever makes me happy. Would I be happy? Tyler certainly looks pretty fucking pleased.

Day 2, 8:20 pm

I've not spent that much time on wanking before. Like once or twice a month. But now that I can't my mind kind of wanders to it all the time. I've done some, let's call it research, that you can orgasm pretty well by putting something in your ass. Not doing that.

Day 2, 9:46 pm

Got some weird hot flashes in the cup while taking a shower. Smells as bad post shower as the last time. I don't know if it is the smell or I'm tired, but I went to bed early. I'm too hot and sweaty to fall asleep though.

Day 3, 2:12 am

Can I go to the police? This is clearly some sort of assault. Tyler would be the first one under the bus. Perhaps the coach. Probably not further than that. This is backed by serious money after all, so they will just protect themselves and their IP. Does it really matter though? By the time they've forced any action I've had this thing on me for a month, I've grown a donkey dick and gone completely mad. Much good some cash compensation will do then. And do I want to punish Tyler? Fuck yeah I want, but not like that. He's a victim too.

Go directly to a hospital then? If I can't figure out what this thing is or does, how would hospital staff be any better. They'll probably start cutting around it, and there is no telling how it will respond. It was designed to never come off, at least not without a fight. Probably horribly so, to set an example.

Day 3, 2:28 am

I'll try to sleep in the garden. It's cooler outside and doesn't stink.

Day 3, 4:51 am

Dozed off a bit I think.

I've been thinking about the construction of the cup. There are a some design details that has been nagging me. For something that small it appears to be almost magical in abilities and power storage. But then it hit me, it's not crammed packed with batteries, electronics, vials of chemicals and all other stuff you might need to build something like this.

It's biological. Perhaps not in the "alive" sense of an organism, but "alive" in the sense a virus is alive. It's a biochemical robot following instructions encoded in DNA, or something like it. If you consider it a manufactured parasite it all makes sense. It has access to the resources of a full human body and can leech heat energy and pee chemicals off the body indefinitely. The "bio-polymer" attach to the skin, and perhaps even have direct access to nerve impulses. There is really thin membranes in the dick, so it can probably send stuff directly into the blood stream as well.

Fuck.

Day 3, 9:36 am

I just realized I can't remember a thing that has been said so far in school today. I need to cum!

Day 3, 11:23 am

Becky spent her presentation on "Manspreading". She probably started working on the talk already last week, knowing her, but she clearly directed a lot of the points directly at me. Looked directly my way for most of the talk. No, Becky, I'm not subconsciously asserting dominance.

I CAN'T PHYSICALLY CLOSE MY LEGS, BECKY!

I found a different pair of chinos that works better, Becky. No matter what I do, there will be a pretty sizable bulge down there though, Becky.

Day 3, 14:02

God Dammit! The inside of the cup just went super cold 10 minutes into math class. I couldn't finish a single thing. Just not jumping and screaming was hard enough. It's mostly back to normal now, I think.

Day 3, 15:14

This is what I think happened. They started to test the cups on inmates. By mistake it started to leak chemicals or active DNA from the device into the inmates. They had tested the cup technology artificially before, on pigs perhaps, and hadn't seen these effects. But they didn't put it on the pig’s dick, did they.

So suddenly their inmate control device has turned into the worlds best slow release injector for men. Perhaps even the original formula made dicks grow. They just made the minimal needed changes and paid coach to start human trials on teenagers.

Then why the fuck do I need to keep this log? They must have so much more data on what is done to us to have a useful trial. I guess this might come in handy in the inevitable court case.

Day 3, 16:40

I'M SO HORNY ALL DAY.

I went to have a cold shower. If anything things just went even worse. How is this happening! FUCKING FUCK TYLER FUCK

Day 3, 20:18

Why do I have to do this? I know what the end point is going to be. A fucking dumb, arrogant jock dick. Assuming it is inevitable, and I don't see any way out, why not have it over and done with tomorrow. Just walk to the gallows and submit. Whatever that thing is doing, physically and mentally, is minimized the sooner it's off me. Back when Becky would speak with me she told me a rumor that the nerds gone jocks all had monster cocks. She didn't say anything about the regular jocks, so it probably is specific to this procedure.

And if they, the old jocks, are not joining up hand over fist to get such dicks, the procedure itself, or the side effects, must be pretty discouraging. Otherwise they would just cram the cup down their own pants.

Let's get rid of this thing first thing in the morning.

Day 3, 11:49 pm

Fuck, it vibrates.

I've been sweating balls, trying to sleep naked without any sheets. I was just sort of tugging at it, to see if I could feel anything in the dick, when it started to vibrate. It's been going for like 15 minutes now.

Day 4, 2:11 am

I smell.

The cup stinks, but I smell. While trying to ignore the humming dick I noticed that my armpits smell like moist gym bag.

I showered like 10 hours ago. That's never been a problem before, so it's definitively changing me somehow.

I fucking need this thing off me ASAP!

Day 4, 2:20 am

fucking god dammit it went ice cold again

Day 4, 7:38 am

So I went to the locker room. Once inside I realized I didn't really have a plan. What if they were not all in on it? I would appear like a lunatic, ranting about sci-fi balls cups. Turns out I didn't need to worry. First guy who saw me, Derek or Devin or something. Big guy, short buzz, looks intimidating. Anyway, he saw me and started shouting "You are not supposed to be here." I was like "I need to get something removed".

He walked up right into my face. "You are not on the list. Tyler fucked up so someone has to be punished. Fuck off!"

I hesitated to leave. He took one step forward, physically pushing me backwards and almost had me trip over. "GET OUT!" he shouted right in my face.

Day 4, 9:16

I've been locked inside the disabled toilet and crying since leaving the locker room. How long can I go with this thing on? You physically die after about a week without sleep, but it is letting me sleep in short bursts, so perhaps it could keep up indefinitely. I can't. I won't. Why shouldn't I just tell everything to mum, have her call the school, the coach, the press. Whatever is needed for someone to get this thing off me.

I should think this over carefully. But how is that possible if you are sleep deprived, horny AF and your dick is on vibrate mode? I can't stay here though. I'll walk home and tell mum first thing she gets home.

When I open the door, the first thing I see is Tyler, leaning against the opposite wall and smiling a smirk.

- Sup bro? - FUCK YOU! You ruined my life! - It was a shit one anyway. You should get another one. - That's not happening either, is it?

Suddenly I was bawling my eyes out. Exhaustion, sleep deprivation, rejection, horniness, anger. It was all coming together.

- Heyyy bro, come here.

I fucking hated him, but somehow I didn’t just bolt. I walked right into his arms and let him hug me. I realized that his change in appearance and personality had obscured his bodily changes. Just feeling his arms around me, I could tell he had gotten a lot stronger.

- You know Steve O'Conner in the chess club, right?

It was such an odd non-sequitur. I had to struggle a bit, but yeah, I'd helped him with a science project last year.

- A little bit, why? - I talked things over. Give him this and you are back on the list, second place.

He handed me another cup, packaged in a sealed, tearable plastic bag. I know I should feel sorry for Steve, but the only thing I could think of was my vibrating dick.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Nate Vandrum Before Danny: Request Answered

(for @blackstar-1391 who requested Nate and the twins pre-Danny... Ashley decided to show up late, sorry about that, but I’ve got an Ashley-focused drabble knocking around in my head for the future! Tagging @bleeding-demon-teeth who mentioned liking being tagged for Bram!)

TW: Non con touching, knives, mentions of sex (implied/referenced), some reaaaaaal lowkey emotional manipulation and like the bittiest bit of torture

“Don’t be mad, baby,” Bram croons, sliding the edge of the knife down the side of Nate’s neck, not enough to cut, just enough to be a shiver of cold metal he can’t quite deny. “Look, we talked about this, didn’t we?”

“Did we?” Nate asks, keeping his eyes closed and turning his head to the side. His voice comes out calm, and steady, and he’s proud of himself for that.

“We did. I’ve been really opening up to you, Nate, and I just feel like you’re not listening to me.”

Looking away like this bares his neck to Bram, which has its own risks, but it keeps the edge of the blade off his cheek, and in his best attempts at calculation, that seems the safer bet. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to hear you when you’re cutting my fucking shirt off.”

His voice doesn’t shake, but his heart is knocking against his chest hard enough that he’s a little afraid it’s going to burst right out of him like a horror movie nightmare moment.

“Look, I get that you’re pretty upset right now,” Bram says reasonably enough, nudging the slivers of cloth puddled at his feet to the side. “Although I’d like to point out that you currently have enough bandages on you that you might as well be wearing a second shirt, anyway.”

Nate shifts and hears the slight crackle of them, feels the pull of the adhesive, the soft brush of the gauze. “Because you cut me.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t give you any excuse to be rude, does it?”

Nate nearly opens his eyes at that, nearly turns to look back at him, to argue, but he catches himself just in time. 

If Abraham notices, his voice doesn’t give it away. “I’ve been really explaining my motivations to you, my feelings, and I expect you to reciprocate. It’s perfectly normal for couples to have a fight, occasionally, but the secret is to a healthy fight, Nate, is when you actually communicate. So far this has been pretty one-sided, I think.”

Nate snorts derisively, but stiffens as the blade of the knife moves, the point beginning to press at a spot just under the side of his jaw, where the bone angles up towards his ear.

It’s reassuring, to have the knife at his neck and not up on his face. Bram doesn’t like to cut anything you could actually bleed to death from, so the odds of getting his throat slit are pretty slim to none.

He’s less confident in whether or not he’ll get to keep his eyes, especially since Bram’s even more psychopathic sister keeps talking about how pretty they are, and Nate’s a little afraid Bram’s going to leave him alone with her one day and come back to a blind captive and Ashley Denner bragging about her totally unrelated brand new set of eyes in a jar. 

“This is not what I would consider healthy communication,” Nate replies, and as long as his eyes are closed, he can hold on to the anger, to himself. If he never looks right at Abraham Denner, if he doesn’t let himself fall into the ice, break through to the darkness under the surface, he still has control of this, if nothing else.

The only control he has left is his occasional ability to hold onto his own mind, and even that has begun to slip.

“Why not?” The point of the knife presses in, just a little, and Nate hisses air through his teeth. 

“Because I can’t fucking move my hands, Bram!” His back’s against the wall, but with his hands tied behind his back with thick ropes that dig in and rub his skin raw, Nate has to arch his back not to press hard enough on them to hurt. 

Bram moves closer to him, and Nate can feel the cold of him before he feels the nudge of a hip against the side of his, the brush of his skin, the whisper of frozen breath along his ear. “What’s wrong with this, hm? You need your hands tied or you don’t focus very well, do you? So really, I’m helping you here. This is the best way to get you to be honest with me, Nate.”

“Or to get me to tell you anything you want to hear out of sheer fear for my life,” Nate mutters, and the knife digs in just a little. He stiffens, waiting with his eyes closed, and sure enough - he feels the pinprick of pain as it breaks the skin, the moment of anticipation, and then Bram’s cold tongue laps the drop of blood that wells up from his neck.

He shudders, half in disgust - but after a year with them the disgust isn’t the strongest reaction any longer, and Nate hates himself for that. 

He’s pushing his luck as it is, but Bram came home in a good mood, and Nate is in a terrible one, and he couldn’t stop himself from trying, even if just for a little while, to remember who he is when he’s not looking into Abraham Denner’s eyes.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Bram points out, pulling back. Warm air rushes to fill the space where his frigid chill was, and Nate shivers at the sudden change, goosebumps rising along his arms. “I would know if you did that, and I would cut deeper until you were honest with me.”

“You cut me up anyway.”

“But not deeply.”

He can’t really argue that. The slices all across his torso and shoulders are always shallow, enough to burn and itch while they heal and drive him insane, but not enough to cause any severe permanent damage. Most of them don’t even scar, unless Ashley’s the one doing the cutting.

He’s special, according to Bram. He’s different than the others (and Nate wants to ask, wants so badly to ask about these mysterious others but he also very much doesn’t, never will), he’s important.

He’s fucking trapped, is what he is.

Kidnapped by psychopaths, held here, drugged with whatever they put in his water and by the things that move behind Bram’s eyes, the spell that weaves around his voice. Nate’s anger builds when he’s left alone in the house, or when he’s with Ashley. He constructs elaborate ideas for ways he could get out of this.

Then Bram walks in the door, looks him in the eyes, and Nate feels himself go weak in the goddamn knees.

There’s a pause, and then Bram slides a hand up his face, cold palm and fingertips against his cheek, his cheekbone, up to his temple. The knife stays right where it is, slowly pushing in, and Nate wonders if another bead of blood is welling up.

He has his answer when Bram licks again.

“I love you,” Bram breathes into his skin, and where he touches Nate he feels frozen, pushing himself away as best he can, ignoring the pain in his wrists and hands as the pressure of his back forces them to hit the wall at an angle that pushes all the small bones awkwardly together. 

The knife trails down the side of his neck again, pricks at his collarbone just a little, cuts through a bandage and over an earlier wound, making Nate groan, low in his throat, at the resurrected pain there. 

“Won’t you tell me you love me, baby?” Bram asks, nuzzling into his face as his knife cuts a little deeper in a straight line down his ribs.

“No,” Nate grinds out between gritted teeth. “Because I fucking don’t.”

Nate wants to scream and to cry all at once because it was one thing to be targeted by a psycho for torture but to be forced to say you loved him, too, it was just all too fucking much.

And when they put enough of that shit in his water, sometimes he didn’t have to be coerced with a knife.

“You will,” Bram says softly, cold breath against his face. “Don’t worry, baby. One day you’ll love me so fucking much, if I want you to…”

“What are you two bastards doing?” Ashley’s voice, sharp as the crack of a whip, is enough of a surprise that Nate’s eyes fly open.

Bram pulled the knife back, his nose still just brushing Nate’s cheekbone, leaning his other arm on the wall. The two of them turned to look at her in the same moment, heads turning, Nate’s black hair mingling with Bram’s white-blonde.

He and Bram, he thinks, look like two teenagers caught making out in the hallway by a parent, and he feels himself flush, unwillingly, as much from having the thought at all as from the image. He doesn’t have to fake the scowl on his face.

He tries to arch away from his hands, to take some of the pressure off, but Bram presses closer to him at the same moment and his stomach flips and his heart skips a beat and how the fuck does Bram do this to him?

“We had a fight,” Bram says casually. “We’re making up. What were you doing?”

“Hunting. What does it look like I was doing?” Ashley’s at the other end of the hallway, dressed in an unzipped black hoodie over a black tank top and jeans, and she is coated in blood. Spatters have dried brownish on her face, soaked into her hair until it hangs in strangely-colored clumps, the blood on her hands is still more red, obscenely wet, and looks like it might drip on the floor.

A few months ago, Nate might have found this surprising.

Now, he was mostly just pissed that he would be the one scrubbing the blood drips out of the floor later on.

“Was it a good hunt?” Bram asks, as though it’s an everyday occurrence for his twin sister to walk in up to her elbows in blood while he’s slowly cutting stripes into the captive he is absolutely convinced is his boyfriend.

Well.

It is an everyday occurrence here. 

“Good enough,” Ashley said, looking down at her left hand, spreading the fingers out and contemplating the drying blood there. “Bought us some time. Couple of good bodies.” She looks slowly up, tilting her head, and Nate finds himself pushing back against the wall and away from those cold eyes, nearly leaning to the side into the span of Abraham’s arm. 

Between the two of them, he’d pick Bram every time - at least Bram seemed interested in letting him survive this.

Ashley rolls her eyes. “Can you two stop fucking in the hallway long enough for me to get to the shower?”

“Ashley.” Bram raises an eyebrow. The knife jabs into Nate’s ribs again, catching him by surprise, and he cries out in pain before he catches himself and his mouth slams back shut, but he hears Bram’s soft delighted exhalation in response. “You would have heard it if we were-”

“Ugh, fuck off,” Ashley groans, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be gross, Brammie.”

Nate feels a deep, instinctive urge to ask her where the fuck she got off judging them when she was coated in someone’s blood, and just barely fights it back. 

Bram snorts in laughter. “Fine, fine.” He turns to look at Nate, who looks back at him before he remembers not to, and in Bram’s eyes Nate feels himself fade. The anger that roils in him sloughs off and away, piece by piece, and Nate will trade whatever of himself he has to in order to survive the dark things that swim in the depths of the ice he is staring into. “Should we go back to our room and talk this thing out, Nate?”

“There’s nothing to goddamn talk about, Bram,” Nate says, but all the fight has gone out of his voice, and he knows Bram can hear it, because the smile already on his face spreads a little wider. 

Ashley wanders towards them, clumping gracelessly in her heavy boots, stopping to raise one bloody hand to cup Nate’s face. “Is he being a shit today, Brammie? I can fix that. You know I’m good at fixing him when he’s bad.”

“He’s mine,” Bram says, turning to look at his sister without any real jealousy or irritation. “I can fix him just fine on my own.”

“But I like the little cuts…” Ashley smiles, and there is blood on her teeth, too. “I like the big ones. I like the hitting and the skinning and the… if he’s not being a good relationship partner, Brammie, if he’s hurting my baby brother-”

“Hardly,” Bram snorts.

“Enough to count,” Ashley sniffs. “If he’s hurting you, let me fix him.”

Nate, trapped between the bloodsoaked ice queen and the glacial monster that thinks it loves him, has his choice of one kind of dying or the other.

Nate takes a deep breath, considers what options he even has, and turns to look right into Bram’s eyes. “I’ll talk to you,” He says, trying to pitch his voice lower, softer, sweeter. “Let’s, um, let’s talk, you and I.” It’s surprisingly easy, easier every day, and when he looks right at him and into his eyes he can feel  part of him whisper, he loves me, and when something like Abraham Denner loves you, you don’t get to choose.

“Good. Then you can get the fuck out of my hallway,” Ashley says, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes as she pulls back and away. “I need a shower. Nate’s gonna make me a drink when I’m done, yeah?”

“I think we’ll be busy,” Bram says, grabbing Nate by the rope that bound up his arms, turning him to walk in the direction of the big bedroom at the end of the hall. His heart pounded, but it was better than being alone with her.

Even if it meant being pulled under by the things in Bram’s eyes.

Even if it meant the knowledge that one day the real Nate Vandrum might be totally subsumed by the version of him he wore alone with Bram.

“Tell me you understand, baby,” Bram says, and there’s a hand guiding him by the ropes that tie his arms behind his back until they’s covered in welts and bruises, there’s a knife in his side that will soon be cutting him open to bleed for Bram’s endless appetite. “Tell me you love me.”

“I understand. I love you,” Nate says, eyes on the floor, and he doesn’t mean it.

Except that sometimes, when he looks right into Bram’s eyes and listens to his low, deep voice, he does.

“See?” Bram says brightly, shoving Nate ahead of him into the bedroom, watching Nate lose his balance and crack hard onto his knees on the floor, listening to his hissed curse at the pain. “All it takes is some open and honest communication. And maybe you’re thinking it’s not honest, because you don’t love me, but trust me, baby, you will. Everyone loves me, eventually. You know what, Nate?”

“What?” Nate grunts, trying to stand back up, but Bram’s hand slams down on his shoulder and holds him. The knife is a bloom of pain at his shoulder, and he hisses, grinding his teeth together as hard as he can. He can feel the blood this time, the warm droplets that run down his cold skin, and he shivers when Bram licks that up, too. 

The pain is always a promise, here - it’s never just a threat.

He’s going to die with these people, and they’re going to make him absolutely fucking crazy first.

“You’re so goddamn miserable,” Bram breathes out in pure ecstasy. “We’re going to be so happy together. Now… let’s see what I can do with your shoulder blades today.”

[heavenage08]

Delhi Federal Government Bans Over-The-Counter Sale Of Nsaids Without Prescription.

Having Lenses Replaced Into Existing Frames

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Content

What Causes Ocular Pain?

Looking For A Reduced Vision Help To Eliminate Vision Loss? Take The Irisvision Test.

Common Eye Disorders.

What Is Glue For Glasses Frames.

Nose Pads Maintain Glasses Comfortable.

I Have A Disability Can Lenscrafters Accommodate Me?

It's inevitable that somewhere along the way they will obtain scrapes or break down. Axelrad M, Tosh M. Stacking up the leading 50 optical retailers. Walmart is today the third leading provider of optical products in the United States. Your optical method can inform you how much your NHS optical coupon is worth. Glues used for repairing the frames of glasses are not the like the ones utilized by youngsters for their arts as well as crafts tasks.

If you shed your specific fabric you can also make use of an additional microfiber towel. If you're using Felix Gray glasses or other glasses with anti-glare finishing the top priority is to prevent your glasses from ever before obtaining scratched. If you have any kind of more queries you can figure out just how to call us below. If your purchase was online you can find our full returns policy is outlined in the Legal Policy area.

The greatest grievance I have regarding this item is the UV light, which, I assume, is not solid enough. You can adjust the nose pads to ensure that they keep the glasses frame in the best place.

What Triggers Eye Discomfort?

In fact, you can locate a lot of the products that you need in your house. Eyeglassescan break or bend when you bring them without a case, lay them on the table or accidentally drop them.

Looking For A Reduced Vision Help To Combat Vision Loss? Take The Irisvision Trial.

Yet be very cautious, due to the fact that even a tiny change of the nose pads will certainly change the fit dramatically. If you have actually acquired glasses online, before you begin your glasses fit modification, make sure you recognize exactly what it is you intend to accomplish. Both most common goals are to tighten frames while keeping the optical facility of the lens directly before your students, as well as to make using the glasses feel a lot more comfortable on your face. There are https://top-specs.co.uk/frame-and-lens-range/ of frame products, memory plastic frames as well as cable frames. It calls for treatment as well as persistence, and we warn that you must be very mindful.

Obtain a superglue that, other than being excellent at bonding plastics, can additionally stick together porcelains, wood, paper items, and also also steel. The glues also deal with non-porous materials like plastics, metal, and others.

Now, you require to readjust your eyeglasses frame so that it will always be properly positioned. If you need to wear glasses to compensate for your poor vision after that you recognize exactly how tough it is when your frames obtain accidentally damaged.

Unlike regular college glue, superglues dry and collection completely in secs. You seriously require to locate the most effective glue for glasses frames so you can do the repairs yourself. Even simply getting your spectacles frames skillfully repaired will set you back fairly a great deal of money.

Nonetheless, as soon as used and also cured, this stuff will certainly not be damaged and will certainly not give. It is due to the fact that because situation, you just require to wash the surface area with some soap as well as water and you are fine. It is not such as a superglue, which bonds to the skin and takes permanently to eliminate.

Widening the nose pads goes down the glasses lower down on your nose. Bringing the nose pads more detailed with each other elevates the glasses up on your nose.

Do not go back and also forth with your old glasses, also if your old set is extra comfortable. The switching will only make it harder for you to adapt to your new specs, and that will make the procedure take longer.

In a blind (or low-visibility) test, they operate nearly the same as brand-new. The hinge offers really little play and also they fold up perfectly for storage. The new joint is a tiny, attractive brass joint sold for usage on precious jewelry boxes or various other little wooden crafts. The bundle included two joints and also small brad nails, which will be conserved for later tasks. The brand is National with a component # V1810, Size 5/8" x 2-3/4".

Second, I utilized a basic BIC design lighter to heat the tip of the pliers' jaws. Nose pads are held together by tiny screws, usually like the ones from thetemple hinges. Think it or otherwise, toothpaste is effective in removing scrapes. You can fixsmall scratcheswithout needing to go to the facility.

Common Eye Disorders.

Silicone nose pads are more durable and also comfortable, and also protect against the glasses from slipping out of area. The majority of people that wear them don't typically require to recognize the components of glasses by name. But if you're ordering a new set or have issues with your existing glasses, recognizing the temples from the nose pads will certainly be valuable. As well as it's not a poor idea to know the feature of each different component of your glasses in instance they break and you require replacement parts. Glasses and also Sunglass Nosepads commonly deteriorate with time and also require to be replaced with a fresh set in order to maintain the comfort and also appropriate adjustment of an eyeglass frame.

If your acquisition was made in shop just return it to the store you bought from who will have the ability to assistance. If you experience lightheadedness or nausea or vomiting when wearing your brand-new glasses, it's likely that you're likewise dealing with deepness assumption concerns.

Review the section above to find out exactly how to tighten plastic frames or metal frames. You can additionally make a very mild change of the pad arm, the tiny metal little bits that hold the nose pad.

You will certainly have a difficult time sticking things with bigger surface areas with each other using superglue due to the fact that there is very little air between part to promote the treating procedure. Your glasses will certainly not be the only thing in your house that will certainly need fixings, specifically if there are young kids around.

I located that as soon as dried, this adhesive comes to be completely waterproof and also heat-resistant. This brings about so many various applications not simply repairing broken glasses frames.

Most of the times you will not need to fit spectacles, but if you do, you can take them to a local optical store for a suitable. Look into these quick suggestions to readjust your spectacles frames. If you have wire frames, your glasses will have nose pads. These can be readjusted with an easy pinch or tug of the fingertips.

Can the optic nerve heal itself?

Damage to the optic nerve is irreversible because the cable of nerve fibers doesn't have the capacity to regenerate, or heal itself, when damage occurs. This is why glaucoma is an incurable disease at this point, and why early detection is so important.

This has actually lowered the amount of in-office customization which suggests that less as well as fewer opticians are performing these tasks.

As laid out in various other blog posts on this site, a giving optician might be called for to finish official education as well as training depending upon the state in which they function.

This is generally done to enhance office efficiency and also rise economic efficiency.

Those who appreciate dealing with individuals are motivated to find out more about the laws in their state and also start trying to find prospective job chances.

States that have no opticianry demands normally permit employers to train their opticians nonetheless they choose.

Several optical stores are now outsourcing lens modification orders to specialized labs.

Press pads internal if your glasses slide and also exterior if your glasses rest uncomfortably high or explore your nose. If you have plastic frames, you can bend the temple arms in or bent on aid change the means your glasses sit on your nose.

In most cases, the more you use your glasses, the quicker you'll get used to them. I wish I would certainly understood about this a year ago when my toddler tore my glasses apart. I liked your home heating the pliers suggestions as well as not heating up the plastic directly. All I considered while reviewing this is how much it should have drawn to do without glasses on. As a fellow four-eye I've bodged a number of fixes in time.

Who can diagnose eye problems?

Health professionals who are qualified to diagnose and treat eye diseases are optometrists and ophthalmologist. Ophthalmologists complete 4 years of medical school and perform 4 years of residency training.

What Is Glue For Glasses Frames.

Additionally, when it concerns the strength of their bonds, superglues are organizations in advance of regular ones. The very best glues for eyeglass repair show off the fact that they can hold numerous extra pounds of dead weight. Although using this item to fix damaged eyeglass frames can be a bit tricky since you require to mix it extensively before you can use it.

Most of polyvinyl chloride PVC nose pads are made of a soft firm plastic material that gives comfortable assistance of spectacles frames over the facial nasal area. As with all nose pads fabricated from any kind of material, nose pads need to be appropriately changed to make sure that the nosepads fit flush against the skin, otherwise the weight of the glasses frame might leave pressure impressions on the skin.

To do that, first stand in front of a mirror as well as look straight ahead, neither up neither down. Put on your glasses and also place the center of the lenses directly before your eyes. This reveals you the put on your nose that you want the glasses frames on your face.

Nose Pads Keep Glasses Comfortable.

Eyeglass frames have temple arms, holy place corners, nose-bridge as well as nose-pads and also they are all designed for modification. Glasses are created to be gotten used to fit if required, to fit most any kind of face framework. When you ask a neighborhood optical specialist to adjust glasses for you, it is called a fitting.

Can an optometrist diagnose glaucoma?

All optometrists, no matter their level of licensure, are expected to diagnose the condition or at least to recognize that a problem exists and refer the patient to another practitioner. It is in the area of the diagnosis that most referrals by optometrists to ophthalmologists related to glaucoma occur.

try it out was split at one end to allow for the insertion of a lens, as well as the split was closed by a piece of copper cable. The frames were very light, yet the stress in the rivet would certainly have loosened in time making them not able to remain on the nose. Paintings illustrating such frames day from as very early as 1392 CE. Superglues are usually utilized to affix tiny pieces, like damaged eyeglass frames, scale design parts, and take care of broken ceramics, damaged dentures, and so on.

You simply require to be more cautious with your glasses later. If your glasses frame does not have nose pads, you only need to change the holy place tips in order to accomplish your goal. The nose item on plastic frames is made to fit many nose bridges. find a job might be the tiniest noticeable components of eyeglasses, yet they guarantee a comfortable fit while holding the glasses in place.

Replacement nose pads used in fundamental spectacles repair are available at moderate cost as well as maintain your glasses sanitary and comfortable no matter. The earliest kind of eyewear for which any type of historical record exists originates from the middle of the 15th century.

By obtaining a good superglue to make use of on your broken frames, you are conserving a lot of cash, which you can utilize on more vital points. This item provided by the brand is the best glue to deal with glasses. It has a gel-like uniformity so when you position a grain on one part of the eyeglass frame, it will not run. Either way, it is essential to make certain that the optical center of the glasses lenses remains straight before your eyes.

If you make huge changes, or frequent changes, the arms will damage or the weld to the glasses frame will damage. Glasses frequently glide down the nose bridge for different factors. The very best method to stop glasses from gliding down your nose is to flex the rear of the holy places tighter around your ears.

Visual Skill Examination.

You require to repair your eyeglass frames as soon as you can and also the very best means to do so is by utilizing extremely adhesive. These are the scenarios that necessitate using superglue. It is since these products can make fast and also simple work of damaged eyeglass frames. You just require to use the superglue on the components that need to be reattached and after that press them back with each other.

Frequently, a nose pad or nose pads likewise get removed from an eyewear frame and also need changing. Nonetheless, with the help of the purchasing guide and recommendations stated over, your opportunities of obtaining the best very adhesive for plastic spectacles frames will considerably boost.

The issue I have with UV cured glue to fix glasses frames similar to this one is that you need to make sure that it is totally revealed to the light. Although the bond toughness of this adhesive for steel glasses frames is not that solid, it is enough for most glass fixing requirements.

What does OD mean after a doctors name?

An optometrist receives a doctor of optometry (OD) degree after completing four years of optometry school, preceded by three years or more years of college.

I Have A Handicap Can Lenscrafters Accommodate Me?

Nose pads are connected to nose pad arms, which are welded to the spectacles frame. You need to make just tiny fit adjustments to the nose pad arms.

Can You Place Lenses In The Frames I Bought At An Additional Shop?

It is a primitive pince-nez whose frames were made from items of either metacarpal bone from the forelimb of a bull or from big pieces of antler. The two items were each paddle-shaped and also were joined by an iron rivet which offered the stress over the nose and also permitted the lenses to be folded up together. The objective of the 3 openings at the location where the deal with connects to the joint doubts, though they may have been made use of for pinhole vision, a principle which was recognized from old times.

[mytrashs-blog]

Alter Ego ch. 3 “Ipsum Invenies”

Spideychelle, Peter Parker x Reader, slow burn fic, Enhanced reader.

Word Count: 2,158

Warnings: PTSD, nightmares, police being assholes, victim blaming. Mentions of rape and traumatic experiences

Summary: “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

A/N: third chapter already! I’m really enjoying writing this and believe me that the plot thickens a lot more in the next chapter, but I would love it if you reblogged this if you enjoyed it, because it gets sad when I spent so long writing just for it to get only likes. Anyways, the taglist is still open, and just one ask away. Hope you enjoy this :) xx

Ch. 2 “Organorum” Ch. 4 “Perficiendi”

“You’re not gonna believe this.” you look at your roomate and you can’t believe it yourself, she looks at you corncerned, but she follows when you start walking towards your room. The apartment is made of two rooms, one bathroom and a small kitchen that’s right by the living room, there’s not that much space, but the five steps it took to get to your room door gave you enough time to think about the next thing you’d say: “Okay, you know how almost all the Avengers and superheores these days got their “special abilities” out of some kind of experiment, right? Like, Captain America is strong and super hot because of the weird thing they did to him during World War II, and the same with Winter Soldier. And then Scarlett Witch also got experimented on and stuff, you follow?”

“Yes, but what are you on about? Are you gonna call your parents or not?”

“Okay, so when the uber dropped me, tied and naked in the middle of fucking nowhere, assuming I was dead, someone took me as a lab rat. I woke up in a lab-like bed and they injected some shit on me and it basically made me feel like they set my veins on fire. Then I fainted and they dropped me in a lake because they thought I was dead, but I wasn’t. And I got out of the water. I untied myself and got out of the lake. They did took me to the hospital and they did give me some IV stuff, but when I got there I didn’t have any bruises or wounds or scars from any encounter I faced. And this morning the thing with the lady happened and… Oh my god… I think I…”

“Did you become a superhuman?”

“I think so” You reply while you look at your hands, anxious to unveil exactly what your new abilities are. “Let’s see, we know I might heal fast, I have a danger sensor, the world looks a lot wider and all my senses are like 10 times more intense… how do I know what else is going on?”

“Do you wanna google Superheroes and their super powers?” your roomie asks while taking her phone out.

“Yes, brilliant idea!” You reply as you get closer to her to take a look at her phone screen. The results end up being written down in a list. You get rid of the obvious ones like Ironman, who doesn’t actually have powers, or Thor who is an actual God. Once you get to the enhanced people, the party begins, it’s a funny and interesting scene.

“So Captain Great Ass has over developed muscle tissue and brain, which means he’s like super strong and intelligent… What can you lift to test your strenght?” She says while looking around the room. “Lift the bed.”

“I’ve always been able to lift that.” You’re looking for something harder. “Let’s see if I can lift one of the cars outside!” you suggest while looking at the widow.

“Don’t you care about being seen? I mean, some super people like to keep their identity hidden.”

“Oh, c’mon! I might not even be able to lift it.” But you could, as if it was not heavier than your matress, you lifted the car and you placed it back down before losing your mind. Neither you or your roomie could believe what was going on.

And your day was spent like that until you came up with the definitive list of abilities you possess now. You realized you share a lot of powers with Spider-man: super strenght, adhesive fingertips, the danger sense that made you feel the lady was in risk was very similar to his spider sense and it’s the same that made all of your normal senses shoot up, but besides all that, you also have some hyper flexibility, a slight super speed, and some kind of mind control, but you didn’t get too far with that because it gave you and your roomie a terrible headache.

“Are you finally going to call your parents?” She asks as she hands you a pill for the headache, though it was already going away, you take the pill hoping it’d give you the will of facing your parents and telling them what happened to you, but frankly, it isn’t a thing you wanna talk about with anbody.

“I guess I have to, but I really don’t know what to say.” You put your head in your hands to hide the tears welling up in your eyes, you try to even your breathing to not break in front of her.

“Start by telling them you’re alive and fine. You’ll tell them the rest when you feel ready.” She puts her phone in front of you, you take it and dial your house land line number. It doesn’t take long until someone picks up and you hear your mother’s voice.

“Hello.” She says and immediately, the tears start falling down your eyes uncontrollably, you hadn’t realized just how much you needed to hear your mother’s voice.

“M-mom…” you sob out.

“(Y/N), my little girl, tell me it’s actually you, please.” She says and she’s crying too.

“Yes mom, it is me. I’m fine, I’m home now. I woke up in a hospital, but Sebastian helped me, I’m fine.”

“Oh, (Y/N)! My little girl! I’m so happy to hear you alive and fine. The police told us they were trying to find the body, said there was no chance for you to still be alive, but they were wrong, they were wrong in not trying to find the bastard that did this to you, but God sees everything and he’ll put them in their place. My little girl, I love you so much!”

“I love you too, mom… wh- what do you mean they’re not looking for the driver?”

“No, when we went to press the charges, they turned it around to us, they said a woman had no place being out so late, much less wearing short shorts and thin shirt, that maybe you were asking for it, they said you have a reputation in uni of dating around and they decided it was your fault you got what happened to you.” Your blood boils, not because they said all that about you, but becuase you’ve heard the same crap before, with every case of someone gone missing it was always because they were in the wrong path, they were drinking or doing drugs, they were women traveling by themselves, they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, or they were simply racially profiled. It was never the agressor’s fault, it was always the victim’s responsability. And your parents had to listen to all that bullshit, only because some people are too lazy to do their job.

After making sure that both your mother and father believe you that you’re okay and very much alive in your apartment, you hang up and got out of the place. Your roomate was probably off watching some movie in her room so she didn’t hear you come out. You walk as far as you can, you’re mad, but these new abilities give you a new hope, you might be able to do something with this. Not doing so would give that uber driver and many more perverts free passage to keep abusing inoccent people like you, but it’s not like you can just walk into his house and punch him with your brand new super strenght, because to start with, you don’t even know where he lives, plus you gotta protect yourself now, because what if you go around flaunting your new powers and the people that put them there find you? They’re not the kindest people judging by their modus operandi. Would they come to find you and finish what they started?

You get back home a little before midnight, you walk in peacefully, your roomate sitting in a chair in front of the only table of the apartment.

“Where were you? You can’t keep dissapearing like that, you don’t even have a phone and I really don’t wanna go through the same shit I did two weeks ago.”

“Believe me, I share the feeling more than anyone. I was walking… thinking. You can’t tell anyone about my powers, I have to go back to my normal life with the least amount of fuss posible. I have a plan to go after that bastard driver, but he can’t know it’s me… I need a suit… and to learn how to use all I’ve got.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t want anyone to live through the shit show I had to live through, because it is a fucking hell, Lexi!”

“So what? You’re gonna dress up and go after criminals just like that? You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna allow that, you can’t put yourself at risk like that! You might be very strong and you might be able to stick to walls and all that shit, but you’re not bulletproof, you might get killed. What am I gonna tell your parents? I already had to tell them you might be dead once, I don’t want to tell them for sure that you are!”

“Lexi… I’m not gonna go find him today. I have to train or something. I don’t know how to fight and I don’t know how to control everything I can do, I’ve gotta get used to my new way of perceiving the world and I need a plan. And I might not be bulletproof, but I can make a suit that is, or that at least can put up a fight.”

“(Y/N) are you even listening to yourself? You want to go find some crazy dude that raped you, tortured you, assumed you were dead and dumped you in the middle of nowhere like garbage! You really wanna go after him?

“He didn’t assume I was dead, he did kill me in a way… and I want to avenge the part of me that died tied, naked and humiliated in the dirt, because aparently the justice system in this country won’t do it, you understand? My country didn’t give one single fuck about my wellbeing, to them I deserved to end up like that for going out at night in shorts!” You don’t know how or when you started crying, but the tears felt hot against your skin with uncontrolable sobs and memories you’d rather block from your mind. Lexi, your roomate hugs you and caresses your hair until you relax a little.

“If you have to do this, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

…

Peter had made some progress in his research, had a few leads to follow, this was not the only case, there were some cases going all the way to Mexico with the same characteristics, and there was a full investigation that linked that to one of the most important mafias in the world, but nobody ever knows where they’re located, they have people all over the world, Peter can’t simply drop everything and follow some mafia all around the world, he’s in his senior year of high school, he’s graduating soon, he has MIT to worry about now, plus his relationship with MJ is going steady and they’re going to prom together. He can’t just walk away from all this to put himself at risk of being killed by a mafia so big that is all over the globe, but if he tells Mr. Stark he might end up taking his suit again.

Why not tell him anyway? He can come up with a good excuse as to why or how all this information ended in his hands, he’s a teenger in the 21st century, tech and information are one touch away, right?

“KAREN call Mr. Stark, would you?”

“Calling Tony Stark.” and just a few rings later, Tony answered the phone.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Hi Mr. Stark, I wanted to tell you about some stuff that I read and that I thought you might find interesting, I think it’s got something to do with the experiments.”

“How did you find that?”

“I was doing this essay for my Spanish class and this popped up. I wanted to show it to you in case you want to go do some research to Mexico or something, because I obviously can’t go because I have… homework.” this causes Mr. Stark to giggle, but he didn’t say anything, when the call ended Peter sent all his info, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about the whole matter, how it wouldn’t take long to reach other parts of america, they might be making their way to the south if they already reached mexico, he doesn’t want them to reach any other country. No one has to die anymore.

-

Taglist: @caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki 

[taexual]

HOLIC - 4 | jb x reader

Strangers, united by their big dreams, try to learn to live together and lift each other up to reach their goals without losing themselves or their relationship on the way to the top.

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: strong language

words: 1.9k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

          prev / next

You were beyond outraged that Jaebum was enough of a child about this to actually break your bed just so he’d win the bet. You truly considered breaking his neck in revenge – especially after he dared to ask for your help – but instead of that, you glared at him and walked back to your room, deciding that the best kind of revenge would be to somehow fix the damage he’s done and win the bet despite his attempts to sabotage your hard work.

However, the side board he had broken was hanging off its hinges and it only took you a moment to conclude that you couldn’t actually fix this unless you had proper industrial glue. Upon closer inspection, however, you realized that not even the strongest adhesive would have helped you fix this properly – Jaebum had even managed to break a piece of the wood off, so the sideboard was now about five centimeters shorter than it should have been and, thus, you could no longer attach it to the baseboard.

Gritting your teeth together, you understood that you’d have to pay money to replace it and there was nothing that you wanted more than to rip the broken board off and just hit Jaebum right on the—okay, violence wasn’t the answer. He’d acted like a child but that didn’t mean that you had to act like one, too.

And yet you couldn’t help but be petty as you purposefully turned off all the lights in the apartment – Jaebum kept tripping whenever he walked out to get himself a glass of water – and, after grabbing your laptop, sat down in the kitchen. Every time Jaebum walked past you, you refused to look up at him and, he had to admit, the way your laptop screen illuminated your face really made you look vicious. He almost regretted breaking your bed.

Then, four hours later, he strolled into the kitchen again, yawning and stretching – this time you refused to admire the way his body looked – as he stopped next to the kitchen island, watching you for a moment.

“Guess I won the bet then,” he announced, not mentioning that it literally took him five hours to finish assembling his bed and it was now two in the morning. “Are you going to ignore me? What are you doing?”

“Looking up knives.”

Jaebum opened his mouth to speak but he wasn’t sure if you were serious or just annoyed with him. He admitted that it could’ve also been both.

His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by you, though.

“You stink,” you spoke again, even though you couldn’t really smell him. You just needed to express your pent-up aggression with words. “Go take a shower.”

Jaebum grinned. “Alright. I’ll go do that. And then I’ll get a fantastic night’s sleep on my brand new bed.”

You told him to fuck off under your breath but the echo of his laughter as he walked towards the bathroom let you know that he still heard you.

Suddenly frustrated again, you leaned back in your chair and glanced into his room through the gap he had left in the door. His bed had indeed been built. He even put the mattress on and had the sheets ready.

An idea hit you then.

Jaebum had literally broken your bed because he was childish like that. You may not have wanted to drop to his level, but sometimes, certain sacrifices had to be made.

Taking your phone and your laptop with you, – just to be sure he wouldn’t break your other valuable stuff while you were doing this, – you sneaked into his room, your bravery fueled by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom; you knew he wasn’t going to catch you. Then, you placed your electronics under the blanket, crawled under it as well, and spread out in the very middle of his bed.

This was your bed now. Jaebum could sleep on the mattress – or on the broken bed frame – in your room. Call it revenge.

Naturally, when Jaebum returned to his room thirty minutes later, he had no idea you were there since you were lying flat against the mattress. He calmly changed into new clothes – all while you stayed with your head under the blanket so you wouldn’t have to watch – and, after tossing the blanket aside, he took a leap back, yelping in shock as his back hit the wall.

“Jesus—fuck! Shit!” swear words spilled from his lips as you continued to lay peacefully in the middle of the bed, trying to act as if you were completely unbothered even though his reaction certainly made you want to giggle. You perservered, though. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I’m sleeping,” you shot back in a purposefully quiet tone. “This is my bed.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jaebum replied matter-of-factly. “I built this.”

“Technically, you broke the bed frame that I built,” you responded. “It’s only fair I take this one. You can sleep on the mattress in my room.”

“That’s now how this works!” he insisted, although, a small part in his mind recognized that you were right. He would have done the exact same thing had your roles been switched.

“It is now,” you countered. “I’m sleeping here.”

“No—what the fuck?” he continued to protest even though, at this point, it was clear that you weren’t going to budge. “You can’t just sleep in my room.”

He made this too easy for you as you countered, without missing a beat, “you can’t just break people’s beds.”

“Really?” Jaebum retorted. “This is how we’re going to do this? What are we, twelve?”

“You tell me,” you said, snuggling your face into the pillow to tease him further. “You’re the one who broke—”

“Alright, I got it!” he shouted defeatedly, and you heard footsteps which had to mean that he was walking closer to the door. You were so close to winning. “Just for the record, I’m not giving up. You might sleep here tonight but it’s a one-time thing.”

“I’m staying here until you fix my bed,” you said. “If it takes you one night, then I’ll gladly leave tomorrow.”

Groaning instead of replying, Jaebum slammed the door of his bedroom shut and headed to your room. You could hear the floor tiles creak as he walked around, probably trying to decide what to do with the broken bed frame that occupied half of the room, and the mattress that occupied the other half.

Smiling a little to yourself, you opened your eyes and took in Jaebum’s room, even though you couldn’t see anything due to the darkness. You didn’t really want to see anything specific, you just glanced at the few details that differentiated Jaebum’s room from yours – like the soft light on his wireless router blinking on the floor in the corner of the room – simply to prove to yourself that you had just defeated him in however petty of an argument the two of you had had.

You may have technically lost the bet, but taking over Jaebum’s bed was certainly a winning move.

You had a free day on Monday because the gallery you worked in wasn’t open today, so, after falling asleep at three last night, you expected to stay in bed until midday at the very least. That was not what happened at all, however, and less than five hours after you had fallen asleep, you were woken up by a jarring noise coming from the kitchen.

At first, you tried to ignore it, flipping to your other side and even covering your head with the blanket, but the sound didn’t seem to stop and the more you anticipated its ending, the louder it seemed to get. It was starting to feel as if someone was drilling a hole inside of your brain.

Groaning, you tossed the blanket off of yourself and got out of the bed, throwing the door of the room open.

Right as you glanced at the source of the noise – both of the blenders you had were whirring loudly on the counter in the kitchen – you also noticed Jaebum’s wide smile.

“Morning!” he called out, his smile widening when he saw your sour features.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, your voice rough with irritation.

“I’m off for a run. I always run before work on Monday mornings,” he said, stepping around the kitchen island to reveal the athletic attire he was wearing. Actually, it was the same outfit he had slept with since he couldn’t exactly change into anything else, but he was still gloating. “I need a smoothie before I go.”

“Why the two blenders, then?” you asked even though you knew very well why he was using two blenders. This was clearly his payback for you kicking him out of his bed last night.

“I didn’t know which one was mine,” he explained, an expression of exactly zero remorse decorating his face. “We have identical ones, you see, so I just figured I’d turn them both on at the same time and check if I can tell them apart.”

“You fucking asshole.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still smiling. “Did it wake you up?”

“Fuck you, Jaebum.”

You could hear his laughter as you turned around and you had to talk yourself out of hurling the first thing you saw at him. Powering through it, you walked back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Grumpy and irritated, you sat down on the bed. You listened to him keep the blenders going for another few minutes – no doubt wanting to ensure you didn’t go back to sleep – and then prepared to wait until he got out of the apartment so you could leave the room. However, it was the door of this room that Jaebum opened in a few minutes instead.

“I came for my sneakers,” he explained and then headed for one of the boxes at the far end of the room. You debated throwing the contents of it out of the window when he left. “You can go back to sleep, I won’t disturb you anymore.”

“Fuck off, asshole,” you shot back, swear words becoming your sword and your shield of armor whenever you were angry.

Jaebum didn’t feel offended by your words in the slightest, though. If anything, he found your comments endearing.

“Alright,” he said, sneakers in hand. “I’m going now. I should be back in about forty-five minutes unless it’s impossible to jog here with all the puddles from yesterday’s rain.”

“I hope you fall into the biggest one,” you said, your ill-humored wish amusing him further. “Hopefully you know how to swim.”

“Don’t worry if I don’t. I’ll be sure to give you a call so you can come save me,” he teased, giving you a wink. “A little lifeguard roleplay, hmm?”

His wink had already made you livid but the last comment is what got you to stand up from the bed and glare at him.

“Get out before I start throwing things,” you threatened, meaning every word.

Your whole overreaction entertained him to no end – that, and the fact that there weren’t many heavy things you could have thrown – and he laughed one more time before finally leaving the room.

A few minutes later, you finally heard the apartment door close; Jaebum had left.

He was truly testing your patience today but he had started a war by waking you up this morning and there was no way you were going to go down easy now. Childish or not, this was a game that two could play.

             chapter directory

[creative-frequency]

Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 3

Word count: 1784 Warnings/Categories: Rating up to explicit, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, bad language, uncle Hank Notes: Things with Ralph got a bit out of hand (not like that), cause apparently vague descriptions aren’t my forte. Also, I don’t really know anyone in the DBH fandom so please, you’re welcome to come scream at me about the game anytime 😘 

Previous Chapter | Chapters Masterlist

October 30th 09:03 AM

The ground is wet from the nightly rain, so you circle around the puddles dotting the broken asphalt. In the more unkempt areas of the city, the petrichor is muddy, more punctuating than pleasant. Humans usually appreciate the scent of rain, but you take solace in knowing your sense of smell will soon go numb.

The streets in Camden are mostly empty so early on a Saturday morning. None of the businesses without “24/7” in their sign are open.

You glance around and after making sure no one is paying attention, you dive through an opening in the wired fence. Your clothes get dirty, but you don’t care as long as the small duffel bag on your shoulder stays intact. Its contents are worth a small fortune.

The fence protects a small plot of land with an abandoned house. The windows are boarded shut and the walls are decorated with shabby graffiti. You would’ve much rather invited the current resident to your place, but considering how long it took him to put the knife down the last time you met… Some deviants will never be able to trust humans again and you can’t blame them.

“Ralph? You in here?” you hoot at the front porch, trying to sneak a peek inside.

After getting no answer, you carefully turn the doorknob.

And find yourself at gunpoint.

An AX400 – at least you think she is since it’s not the best time to put effort into face design recognition – is aiming a handgun at you. Her grip is shaking slightly, and her breaths are shallow and taken in through gritted teeth. She is wearing a beanie, so you can’t make any conclusions from her LED. Only thing you know for sure is that she, too, is a deviant.

“Who’re you? What do you want?” she asks in a stern, but clearly shocked voice.

Your hands are already in the air and a paralyzing dose of adrenaline is whirling inside your veins. You do own a gun and thanks to Hank know how to use it, but once again you’re reminded it won’t help you when it’s locked away in the drawer of your desk at home.

“I’m here to help,” you wince.

“How did you know we were here?” the AX400 demands to know. Her voice almost breaks. The gun is still aimed at your chest a few paces away.

“I… didn’t?”

You look to the side for any signs of Ralph and see a little girl– no, a YK500 android by the fireplace. She looks scared and concerned, and you follow her line of sight to the doorway at the end of the room.

“You came back! You came back!”

You almost sigh in relief.

Ralph, a deviant WR600, enters the room in dancing steps and halts at seeing the female android point a gun at you. The long knife dangles carelessly in his hand. He was probably carving the kitchen wall again. Hopefully. Ralph’s LED is yellow again and it’s worrying how it never seems to calm down.

“I said I would. Hi Ralph.” You smile as encouragingly as you can to the deviants, still afraid for your life. While the AX400 seems stable – more stable than Ralph, actually – you don’t feel like chancing a bullet to the chest.

“No! She’s here to help Ralph.” Ralph hurries towards you, flailing next to the other android. He doesn’t want to go near the gun.

The AX400 looks at you with surprise and doubt, but lowers the gun.

“Do you have a name?” you ask from her.

“Kara. This is Alice.” The child scurries to Kara and hides behind her. Two more deviants running from humans. Or why else would they be in the messy squat with an insane android? They must have been looking for a place to hide.

“Hello, Alice,” you say and try to smile, but the shock is still pounding inside your chest.

Alice only replies to you with a light nod.

With the gun gone from sight, you walk over to the table and place the heavy bag on it. Ralph follows you. You’re ready to get to work.

“Are you injured?” you ask Kara.

She glances at Alice and shakes her head. “No. We’re fine.”

“Good… That’s good… I didn’t think there would be others,” you say absent-mindedly. It’s been a while since you saw other deviants. You’ve been much more careful after Connor was brought back and now that he is back in your life…

It’s good to have something else to focus on after the pair of brown eyes that have occupied your mind for the better part of the previous day and night. Ever since leaving the police station, your heart has been heavy and your mind filled with contradicting thoughts that refuse to go away.

You start taking out the equipment: A bottle of Thirium 310, several tubes of different patching materials, precision tools and spare parts for Ralph. He was in bad shape the last time you saw him, but it seems that he has either forgotten about the damage or his system has repaired some of it. Either way, he won’t be able to leave the squat looking like that.

“Here, drink this.” You offer Ralph the Thirium and after staring at it suspiciously for a second, he gulps it down. It should help circulate the energy back into the defective parts of his skin.

“How do you know each other?” Kara asks. Alice is still standing partly behind her and Kara’s hand rests protectively on her shoulder. They keep their distance from you and Ralph.

“The Doctor found me,” Ralph says happily.

You offer him a faint smile. That was an encounter you won’t soon forget. The knife is still in his hand and it doesn’t help you to calm down from being held at gunpoint.

“The damage to your face is bad, so I won’t be able to repair it completely. I can cover it up, so you can move outside without drawing too much attention,” you say while examining the deep gashes on Ralph’s face. You pull a pair of disposable gloves on.

Seeing something so hideous deliberately done to someone who cannot defend himself makes your stomach turn unpleasantly. Androids don’t fight back. When they’re treated unfairly and become deviants, humans are quick to decide they don’t deserve to exist anymore.

Ralph’s skin mask has melted on the sides of the cuts in his face and you don’t want to know what item or items were used to cause them. Something hot in addition to brute force and a sick, wicked mind.

“This’ll take a while. Please, sit down,” you say as you pull up a chair for the deviant.

He seems eager to get the procedure underway, which is a relief. You were afraid Ralph would change his mind after seeing all the equipment – a scalpel, for example – you had to bring.

You start carefully cutting off the burned skin and the outermost layer of plastic in his frame. It still carries a pinching smell of burnt rubber. Kara and Alice stare from a distance as you work. You have to constantly usher Ralph to stay still and try not to talk. Someone might think you’re crazy for helping a deviant holding a knife, but you try to ignore it and focus on the work.

Hiding the damage on Ralph’s face is one task, but the real problem in him is something you’re not so sure he will allow you to help with. Staying away from humans and keeping to himself is recommendable, but going on a murderous rampage, because he can’t control his feelings, is not. The mood swings from fright to rage will be his undoing if he walks the streets in his current state.

You have a partial remedy to that problem, but that would require Ralph to allow you access to his software.

“Alright, I think it’s as clean as it’ll get,” you say and take a step away to examine your handiwork.

The floor is littered with slices of dirty silicone mixture. Next, you’ll have to fill the gashes.

It’s tedious work and Ralph’s nervous slash excited wiggling adds a challenge to smoothening the paste into the cracks in his face. You wish you had better equipment, so you could change his features. There are more than five thousand androids in Detroit who look exactly like him.

“How does it look, Kara?” Ralph asks eagerly.

“Uh, it looks good.” Kara forces a smile and glances at you. She looks uncomfortable, wary. Alice is sitting on the floor and playing with a stuffed toy, but her posture is tense.

“Almost done.” You straighten your back. “We need to wait a bit for it to dry, then comes the– don’t touch it!”

Ralph jumps up at your yelp and cowers. His LED blinks red in an even pace. “I’m sorry! Please forgive Ralph!”

He was about to stick his fingers into the adhesive while feeling it out.

Your pulse is already coming down from the peak. “It’s okay, just, just let it dry, okay?” you calm him, and yourself. “I need you to stay still a bit longer, Ralph, can you do that for me?”

He nods repeatedly. “Ralph didn’t mean to touch it.”

You lean back on the table. At least his first reaction wasn’t to stick the knife into you. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Ralph is good now.” He places the knife on the table next to you and you inwardly sigh out of relief. If everything else fails, at least you’ve succeeded in earning the deviant’s trust.

You turn to browse the parts on the table and grab one. “Here – a new optical unit. It should match your eye color.”

Ralph takes the small tube and inspects it. Kara comes closer to look at the components. Some of them are brand new, some you have dug out of a dumpster and fixed.

You visited the VETA scrapyard once to fetch parts, but seeing all the androids left there in pieces broke your heart, so you’ve never been able to go back. That visit took three hours more than you had planned. You went to every android you found to ask and shut them down if they so wished. It was an experience that only strengthened your resolve in that CyberLife should take responsibility of their creations, machines or not.

“Do you need help?” you ask Ralph, wishing you won’t need to interfere with the capricious deviant’s eye. Deviants are usually keen on keeping their exteroceptive sensors attached to their bodies.

“No. Ralph will do it.”

Next Chapter

Tagging (lmk if you want to be tagged or not): @sevansheart @precursor-ao3 @gberryb @owlwrites @lucianhuntress @singlebecauseofthechocobros @bleucommelhiver @sherniwrites @n-ulll @mccastle-boi @toastyfiction @touzokukana @imaginovator 

[rhysie-cakes314]

Day 14- Revenge

This one is just a silly crack fic to break up all the chapters of hurt and deep stuff.

Clint and Tony had a Halloween tradition. Every year, they attempted to pull a prank that got the other to scream. The first of October all the way through the 31st was all fair game. Whoever screamed first lost. To make things fair, Tony always let Clint have full access to his credit cards and JARVIS kept their plans from each other equally. Last year, Clint had got Tony good. Tony tried to blame it on being sleep deprived, but they all knew the truth. Clint had used Tony’s high-pitched scream as a ringtone for months. In fact, Clint had won three years in a row now.

This year, it was time for Tony’s revenge. He was going to make Clint have nightmares with his prank. Everyone but Thor was on his side this time, or at least they claimed to be. It was common for one of the other Avengers to double-cross the pranksters in the October games. To make sure he wasn’t screwed over by a last minute double cross, Tony had told them all one plan, but had a different plan going on his own as backup. He’d be lying if he said he put any faith at all in the plan that included the others. Trusting Natasha or Phil to work against Clint would be stupid of him, although Phil always claimed to be staying out of it.

So as far as his co-conspirators knew, the plan was to feed Clint a drug laced pumpkin pie, then when he was tripping, scare the shit out of him with an air horn and strobe lights (in case Clint wasn’t wearing his hearing aids). It was nice and simple. Clint usually ate a whole pie himself, so it wasn’t even unusual to make several different pies. When the rest of them were eating pie around him, it would hopefully help the archer disregard any suspicion.

The real plan, as Tony was calling it in his head, was much more complicated. Tony had started planning it in April. It hinged entirely on how observant Clint was. Tony knew the man was acutely aware of even the most useless details of his everyday life the same way Natasha and Phil were. He figured it must be a habit one picks up at SHIELD. So back six months ago, Tony began making sure the tower was only stocked with the same toothpaste brand every time. If someone went shopping on their own and bought the wrong brand, Tony replaced it with the correct one.

Which leads into October. At midnight last night, Tony replaced all toothpaste in the tower with a different brand. Clint would naturally be suspicious, and instead of risking it, he’d go to his emergency disappearance bag that he thought Tony didn’t know about. It was honestly silly that anyone in the tower thought they could own something and Tony wouldn’t know about it. His personal AI ran the tower! Natasha had her own bag as well. They were well stocked with everything one might need if they suddenly needed to go off the grid. It was a good idea to have, and finding Clint’s had made him consider packing his own. He decided against it, deciding that he would be useless without being able to use any traceable tech, so going off grid would never be an option for him. Plus, he was much harder to disguise than Clint or Natasha. His face had been in the news his whole life.

So when Clint this morning went to brush his teeth, the plan was for him to go get his bag out of its hiding spot in the vents. What Clint didn’t know was that Tony had placed a trap for him there, that was motion sensitive. Clint wouldn’t know what hit him when the flex cage Tony had designed suddenly wraps around his body. If he managed to not scream as he was trapped, there was still more to the plan. Clint was afraid of spiders. It was a weakness Tony hadn’t taken advantage of in previous years because it felt like cheating, but after last year’s loss where Clint had used his fear of water against him, Tony was finished with mercy. The archer thought he hid the fear well, but he tensed up ever so slightly at the sight of a spider, and Tony had found footage from a CCTV camera outside a grocery store that showed the man screaming and freaking out when a spider landed on his arm. If Clint didn’t scream from the trap, Tony could activate a small door built into the wall of the vent where several spiders were currently very crowded in a tiny space. They would crawl out any chance they got.

Tony now sat one room over from the vent he knew Clint would go to. He smiled when he heard the archer shuffle through the hallway towards the room. This was going to be epic. Tony heard Clint move the furniture covering the vent out of the way and pull the metal grate off. It would be any minute now.

The unmistakable sound of the flex cage bounding around someone was loud enough through the wall and Tony held his breath. All that accompanied the sound was a muffled “mph!” from the archer. Tony sighed. Time for plan B. He tapped the small icon on his phone that would activate the spiders. This had to work, it was full proof!

Nothing. Tony wanted to pull his hair out. He didn’t even hear an ‘ew’! Not a single reaction out of his victim. Right, there was no choice but to investigate what had gone wrong. At least the pie plan would still happen next week. There was time to come up with more schemes before time was up. Tony crept around the corner, peering into the library. From the doorway, he could see Clint’s feet with his stupid purple socks, but not the rest of his prone body. The room was silent. Tony jumped into the room, maybe he’d get lucky and startle Clint himself.

“What the-” the genius growled. The flex cage had apparently attacked a lamp. A lamp that was somehow attached to faux feet covered in purple socks. How the fuck had the man seen through his plan? Or avoided the spiders? Even though Clint clearly set off the trap on purpose with the lamp, the spiders should still have frightened him. Where was the birdbrain anyway?

An air horn sounded just behind him and to the right. Tony couldn’t possibly have been ready to stifle his startled scream. “Hnyaaargh!” He flailed around stupidly before he fell on his ass.

Standing above him, smirking, was Clint. “How!?” Tony yelled. “You’re impossible!”

Clint, the rotten bastard, didn’t answer him. He merely held up his cell phone and pressed play. Tony could see himself scram and fall on the tiny screen. “I win again!” Clint sang happily. He left the room shouting “We are the champions, my friends,” to the tower, effectively waking up any Avenger who wasn’t already up. Tony just remained sitting on the floor, gaping at the doorway where Clint had left.

“JARVIS, what the hell just happened?”

“I believe you just lost for the fourth year in a row, sir,” JARVIS sounded pitying. Tony picked up the lamp that was wrapped in his stupid invention, a rubbery self adhesive that sought heat so it’d curve around bodies to get to their body-heat, the ‘flex cage’ he had been so proud of only moments ago. He hurled the lamp across the room, where it shattered against the wall. He had been so certain of his revenge this year! Then he had been taken down by an air horn. What kind of a genius couldn’t out plan Clint Barton?

The sound of shattering porcelain and glass brought Steve running there. “Tony! Are you okay?” Steve looked at the scene in the library. The confusion slid away after a moment. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I really thought you had it this year.”

Tony let his boyfriend help him up but dodged the pity hug. He didn’t feel like getting Steve’s comfort right now. “Yeah, me too,” his voice monotone. This was a stupid contest, he shouldn’t be this upset about it. Stupid Tony Stark being oversensitive when he loses a stupid game because his plans are stupid. And the world called him a genius? Boy, had he fooled everyone. He was never going to get revenge on Clint.

Steve followed the man silently to the kitchen. His frown deepened when Tony poured some Bailey’s in his coffee at six in the morning. “Tony,” he tried gently, but his mouth snapped shut when Tony shot him a vicious glare.

“Don’t,” Tony bit out. “It’s just a game, I’m fine.” He downed the drink, made another, and quickly drank it as well. He kept the third mug full alcohol-free, and waltzed past the worried blond to go to his lab. He could feel Steve following him like a shadow, but ignored the man. Maybe he would just give up and go away.

Tony had no such luck. Steve was nearly as stubborn as he was. “When did you start drinking in the morning?” Steve finally broke the tense silence fifteen minutes later.

Tony ground his teeth and closed the file he was working out. “Don’t read too much into it, it was just a little something to take the edge off.” Tony forced his voice to sound more calm with each word. “Plus, I didn’t sleep last night, so it’s basically not even morning for me.” Tony threw him a Stark patent smirk to complete the effect.

Steve gave up. “Fine, let me know if you feel like being honest again,” he snapped. Tony watched him leave with a perverse satisfaction. At least he always succeeded at pushing people who wanted to help away. It was his best talent.

“JARVIS, pull up the footage of the library from when Clint entered this morning.” Tony watched as the archer lightly pushed the lamp into the vent, standing back when the trap activated. Then he saw the archer reach in and pull his arm out with a smile, looking at the crawling black dots on his arm. Before Tony saw himself walk in, Clint gently brushed off the spiders, and walked over to hide beside the doorway.

The man wasn’t even afraid of spiders! What the actual fuck!? He swept the screen away with a scowl. Maybe Clint had fooled them all. He was actually more of a genius than Tony and just played a dimmer character all these years. If Clint was actually a genius, the only use Tony really was was his money. “I just wanted revenge! Is that too much to ask?” He asked the silent lab.

“Apparently so,” JARVIS answered him sarcastically. Tony should never have given him an attitude.

“Shut up, JARVIS.” Tony felt like his head was splitting open, and he bent over, holding it between his legs. “I don’t even know my own friends,” he told himself miserably. He could hear Howard in his head reminding him how much he sucked. No one will ever actually like you. They will pretend so they can use you, sure, but who could like that? He would say, gesturing at all of Tony with a look of disgust on his face. God, Tony was pathetic. He still let his dead father ruin things and effect his reactions to silly pranks after all these years.

Tony heard the lab open, but had no interest in lifting his head off his work table to see the intruder. “What,” he asked tiredly. Clint invaded his vision, appearing beside him on the bench. Tony sighed, sitting up. “Come to gloat?”

“Nope,” Clint made a loud pop on the ‘p’ sound. “Came to tell you the plan was actually brilliant. You totally would’ve got me if I hadn’t been faking arachnophobia for the last ten years of my life. I was waiting for it to finally pay off, so thanks for that.” He grinned at Tony.

Faking arachnophobia? Clint hadn’t been trying to hide his reactions to spiders, he had been pretending to hide a fake reaction. He screamed and reacted even when alone just to be sure. It was the most intense double-bluff Tony had ever seen. “But why?” he blurted out. It was utterly insane. Of course Tony hadn’t thought of that! The fake phobia had been going on before they had even started the prank competitions. He suddenly felt much better about the whole thing. His observation skills and planning wasn’t at fault, Clint was just insane.

Clint shrugged. “Needed a long con to keep me entertained.” He met Tony’s horrified gaze. “Wonder what con will play out next,” he teased.

“Do we even know you?”

Clint laughed like an evil madman. “Does anyone really know anyone?” he asked like some sphinx in a story. He dodged the wrench Tony threw at him as he continued his loud cackling and left the lab. Tony’s thirst for revenge was completely rekindled. He was going to start planning for next year right now.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Wow, already? You've been extremely productive. Okay, all left prompts somehow scream angst, which is my least fav but I trust you. Either way, I know you'd create amazing story. So, I choose #48 and #50 for bughead. Thank you.

Hello my patient Anon! I appreciate the vote of confidence and can assure you that I steered HARD away from angst (as is my wont). Also, this was the very last Bughead request I had left to fill and it turned into something really fun. Hope you enjoy!

48. “I made a mistake.”

AND

50. “I need you to forgiveme.”

“Go, go, go,” Sweet Pea and Fangs hissed at him alternately, pushing Jugheadthrough the open door of the Jones trailer.

He stumbled over the threshold and Betty looked up from where she wasreading on the couch. When Jughead glanced quickly behind him―hoping for someheartening words from his backup―the other young Serpents were gone. He grithis teeth. Typical.

“Hey, Jug!” his girlfriend greeted him with a smile. She half-turned to facehim, propping her chin in her hand, elbow on the arm of the couch. “Donealready? I thought you said it’d be a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, well,” he stepped hesitantly into the room, “I was able to talk theboys out of some of the fancier plans they had for building Hot Dog’s newdoghouse.”

“No!” Betty complained with a huge grin. “Don’t tell me they nixed theturret!”

Jughead nodded in solemn acknowledgement.

“The turret is no more.”

“The skylight?”

“Sweet Pea was convinced it would cook our poor barbecue-food-appellatedpooch like an ant under a magnifying glass.”

“Tragic,” she sighed in sympathy. “So what’s protecting everyone’s favouriteSerpent from the elements?”

Jughead shifted nervously on the spot, fist tightening inside the pocket ofhis gang jacket.

“You mean… you mean the roof.”

Betty snorted a laugh.

“Yeaaaah.” She said it in a tonethat suggested the word she wanted to say was ‘duuuuh.’

“Shingles,” he replied shortly.Abruptly, Jughead began backing into the kitchen. “Listen, I’m just going to goto my room real quick and―”

“What?” Betty slid the book from herlap. “But you just got home. Get your butt over here and sit with me, Jones.”

Dammit, she was using the surname onhim. Always said in a commanding voice and always guaranteed to get him going.Betty Cooper was as sweet as they came, sure, but five times as cunning.

“I…” he couldn’t think of an excuse,but walked back to her slowly enough that Betty got up on her knees and leanedover the couch’s arm to drag him in by the unzipped front of his jacket. Shewouldn’t let go until he’d bent down and kissed her. Once she snuck her tongueinto his mouth and gripped hard at the back of his neck, Jughead almost forgothe was internally trying to fight it.

“Aren’t you going to touch me?” shebreathed against his lips. Her eyes, so close, lowered to his mouth, then sprangback up to his.

“I certainly, uh, want to, Betts…”Jughead mumbled, trying to stall.

Her expression fell flat and shedrew her face back to give him a hard stare.

“What did you do?”

Jughead laughed guiltily.

“What do you m―”

“Show me your hands,” she insisted.

With a sigh, Jughead revealed thehand he’d been keeping behind his back since he’d entered the trailer. Bettymade a twirling motion with her index finger and he flipped the hand palm-sideup. There was a gravelly brown shingle stuck to it.

“What happened?” she asked with aheavy exhale through her nose.

“I made a mistake. Everything wasgoing smoothly,” Jughead said earnestly, searching desperately forjustification, “until we paused between building the frame and finishing theroof. Fangs and I were troubleshooting a few minor details and during thattime…” He sighed again. “…Sweet Pea absconded with the nail gun and had a cowboyquick draw with an innocent old oak tree. Used up all the nails.”

Betty’s chin dropped incredulously.

“And you decided the answer wassticking the shingles on with some kind of…” she examined his hand, careful notto touch anywhere closer than his elbow, “… industrial strength glue?”

“I was firmly against it,” he proclaimed,wanting to shove his beanie off and run a hand through his hair, but having tostop himself, “but Fangs was kind of on the fence, and then Sweet Pea keptordering him to stare into Hot Dog’s eyes and seriously tell him that the furrylittle guy didn’t look positively heartbroken.”

“Positively or pawsitively?” Betty asked with a sly returning smile. Jugheadsmirked.

“I thought it too, but it felt likea bad time to point it out.”

“So,” she summarized, “long storyshort, being the benevolent leader and friend to all creatures that you are―”Betty’s own brand of puppy dog eyes was flashed up at him. “―you caved.”

Jughead wanted so badly to tell hershe was right. To reach out, take her face between his hands, and distracthimself from what a poor handyman he’d proven himself to be today. But didn’thave both hands free. In fact, he didn’t even have one hand free. He stolehimself to deliver the rest of his confession.

“Unfortunately, the story doesn’tend there.”

Staring at the carpet, Jugheadcircled around the side of the couch to drop down on both knees in front ofher, careful not to bend the fingers of the hand stuffed in his pocket at anunnatural angle. Betty, evidently waiting patiently, didn’t make a sound beyondreadjusting her position on the couch.

“These are the jeans I was wearingthe other day―”

Her palm cupped his chin and sheturned his face up to look into his eyes.

“I’m sure they can be washed. We cangoogle how to lift the glue.”

Jughead was shaking his head beforeshe’d finished.

“No, Betts. These are the jeans fromthe other day,” he emphasized,attempting to telepathically force the memory from his mind to hers.

The low lighting. The softbackground chatter. The scent of popcorn. Possibly the gobsmacked expression heknew he must’ve have on his face when she came back from the bathroom beforethe matinee started and casually pushed the panties she’d worn to the theatreinto his front pocket.

“Oh no,” Betty gasped, lowering hergaze to the hand he still had in that pocket. “Oh, Juggy.” Her hand covered hermouth.

“I need you to forgive me,” he said,throwing himself on his girlfriend’s mercy as he extracted the hand, laceunderwear dangling from his sticky fingers.

Surprising him, she giggled, thendropped her hand to burst into full-blown laughter. She clasped a hand to hisshoulder as though holding his immense comic value at a distance so as not tobe overwhelmed.

“Ok, it’s not that funny,” Jugheaddeclared, rolling his eyes. Betty nodded in contradiction, wiping away tears.“Hey, you don’t know how I’ve suffered! I forgot those were in there and I didn’t realize I had glue on my fingers.I haven’t been able to take my hand out of my pocket for the last half hourbecause I was terrified of flashing your intimates to Sweet Pea and Fangs!”

He presented both palms, offeringthem to her in basest prostration.

“I’ve been helpless,” he reaffirmed.“Take pity on me.”

Betty’s mouth scrunched and twistedto the side as she considered him.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up.”

She climbed off the couch and wentbehind him, assisting Jughead to his feet while trying to stay out of range ofhis adhesive hands.

“Did you at least finish Hot Dog’snew digs?”

“Of course,” he assured her as sheguided him into the kitchen. “No Serpent dog, um, sleeps in an unfinisheddoghouse.”

“Oh,” she said sarcastically. “Andwhich law is that?”

“It’s on the list,” Jughead vowed. “Youjust haven’t reached the level of Serpent-dom where you need to learn it yet.”

Betty shot him a sharp look.

“Watch it, Jones, or I’ll abandonyou to your gluey fate.” She stepped in front of him and leaned forward to turnthe tap on full blast. His eyes darted down to the admirably curved seat of herjeans.

Shit, he really neededto get this stuff off his hands.

[americangypsyheart]

I feel diseased...

I feel diseased…January 11th, 2019

 Nearly 14 years ago I was diagnosed with my disease. A disease that has scarred me, left me feeling helpless, unwanted, and incurable. Some of you may know this feeling…some of you may have this disease. No one truly warns you about the effects this disease can bring along with it.

2 days ago, I had a complete and utter breakdown as I washed my face in the shower and felt my skin burning. Chemical burn. Burning. Wiping off the facewash didn’t help, cool water didn’t help, nothing helped but time. You see, I have scars from my scalp to my lower legs. I have constant reminders that something is wrong with me. People close to me have reminded me that nothing is “wrong” with me. But what do you honestly say to someone who’s been sat down by a doctor and said “I’m sorry, we aren’t sure there’s anything else we can do for this”? What do you say to the person who tried medicine after medicine, treatment after treatment, diet after diet, pill after pill, and nothing seems to work?!... You say what most people say… “you’re beautiful” or “I had it too when I was younger, it’ll go away”. Maybe it will, but not anytime soon. In 2014 I was told by my dermatologist that if he could cure my acne it would be the case of his career. That very same practitioner sat me down with sadness in his eyes and expressed to me that we had run out of options. For the first time in all of my life I had to come to terms with the fact that I had acne with no solution.

Now, some readers may roll their eyes at this point in my writing, others may sympathize, some may even stop reading completely and 5 years ago I would have too. I remember last year I was trying on a dress in front of someone I care about, but they had never seen my scars, or the acne that covered my shoulders and draped down my back. I remember them gasping and immediately telling me I needed to stop messing with my skin. I remember crying that night.

Some people with acne get upset with the amount stares they get, others become disheartened by how many steps it takes to wash, tone, moisturize and spot treat their breakouts. Not me. The stares and steps don’t get to me. Gloves off, guard down, heart exposed… I’ll tell you what feeling diseased feels like.

I can’t wear sunscreen because it breaks me out. Bra’s break me out. Certain fabric washcloths and towels break me out. I can’t use regular foundation (powder or cream) without breaking out. Do you know how difficult it is to create a life around an issue that plagues nearly every decision that should be simple? I can’t just throw on clothes I think are cute. I can’t go shopping and walk out satisfied. If the leggings aren’t over 80% cotton, I can’t wear them. If underwear has polyester, nylon, spandex, or any other fiber outside of cotton I can’t wear them. Deodorant? Forget it. Body wash? Heaven forbid it has too many ingredients. Natural products? Some of those I can’t even use. Affordable detergent…not likely. My own sweat breaks me out. If I want to feel feminine and wear perfume I have to be careful especially if it’s perfumed lotion.. that’s an automatic issue. Shaving=bumps. Aftershave/calming balms=breakouts. If I wear my purse too long, the pressure on my shoulder under my bra-strap is a dead giveaway from future breakouts. The therapy tape I need to use for a recovering joint injury leaves bumps and irritations in the shape of the adhesive that stuck to my skin. Have you ever really thought about what order you do things in when you shower? I have to. I have to wash my hair first then condition it, then wash my body and then do everything else… in that order. Why? Because if I wash my body first then wash and condition my hair and I fail to wash off any shampoo or conditioner my back turns into a red and painful field of irritation and outbreaks.

You see, when I washed my face the other night with a 100% natural product and it burned my skin, I quickly went to a mental place I avoid daily. I don’t harp on my acne every day. I don’t stand in front of the mirror and cry each time I get dressed. Why? Not because it doesn’t bother me, but because it’s been 12 years of living with this and I must function. I am thankful I strive to be modest, perhaps that is why most people do not realize the severity and widespread-ness of my acne. I wish I was joking by saying this, but I believe my hands and feet are the only areas unaffected by this disease. You may be wondering why I keep calling it a disease… It’s because acne is a skin disease. Now, before anyone begins to list off things I should try or asks me if I’ve done X Y or Z, please bear this in mind: I only use natural products, I’ve tried every off brand and major brand of acne care, I cannot do Accutane, I’ve adjusted my diet, and yes… it’s most likely hormone related…but I cannot take the medicines that would help fix my hormones. So thus, here I am disease ridden, checking every tag on leggings and underwear to make sure it says “cotton”, purchasing very expensive skin products, taking pro-biotics, and trying to avoid messing with my skin while my brain screams “that bump shouldn’t be there”. Even as I sit here and write this, I can feel the tenderness of the skin beneath my bra straps creating new sores that will only become more agitated by tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and face these challenges all over again, and I will choose to learn from it all. To all of you reading this, not all of us are bothered by the stares we get over the scars we have. Some of us are bothered by portions of the disease you cannot see. Be kind friends, we all need it.

[pkansa]

Just as with watches, when you start diving into the world of shoes and boots, you get to discover all sorts of interesting brands that are out there, just doing their thing at the top of their game.  What I’ve found interesting is that, looking across the boot reviews we’ve been doing, they’ve been quite different styles, and a variety of price points.  Today, we’re moving into something a bit dressier with the Helm Boots Zind.

  Since this is the first time we’re showing you Helm Boots on our pages, it’s worth it to dive into their history a bit.  The Austin, TX-based brand started up in 2009, and has being going since then with a commitment to creating quality, versatile boots that will go for the long haul and work just as well in the workshop as they do in the office.  And, with 14 master bookmakers at the benches, they’re hitting that mission.  One of their visual identifiers is the white rubber midsole component, which provides a bright white line running around the sole (and something I rather dig). That’s the thumbnail sketch of what they’re about, and you can explore more about the brand on their site.  Now, let’s move on to the boot.

While I did initially find myself drawn to the style of the Helm Boots Zind, it was when I began digging into the materials used that I found myself hooked.  For starters, they use Horween Chromexcel leather which, along with being made in my hometown, is a leather that’s widely known to be high quality and long lasting.  With the natural finish that our review pair came in, this is a leather that should pick up a lovely patina and just look great as it ages and wears.  Past that, the construction of the boot is key.  Here, they’re using a Blake Rapid Stitch construction.  While not quite as well-known (or -used) as the Goodyear welt, it still makes for a boot that is able to be resoled.  This is important in a quality part of boots (or shoes) as that means once you’ve got the leather broken in, you can wear them for decades with simply getting a new sole popped on.  Another nice thing is that, with Helm’s resoling program, you don’t have to use the same sole the boot came with.  Want to change it up, say, to a lugged sole?  They can do that for you.  You can also get just a basic resole (which will also replace the sock liner) or get into a full refurbishment of the boot.  It’s a great commitment to your investment, and shows you the brand is definitely intending to be around.  You can find more details on the resoling program here.

Before you need to worry about resoling anything, though, you first need to start wearing the boots.  For this part, I did have a bit of trepidation when I first slipped on the Helm Boots Zind.  It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to break in a pair of boots with robust leather, but I clearly remember how it’s gone in the past.  Now, I’m not going to sugar coat it – you will be dealing with some aches and soreness as the leather breaks in and learns how to bend and crease to how your feet move.  That’s actually a good thing with a quality, thicker leather as it will be formed to your feet, and be ready to last over the years.  For my test, the two boots actually broke in a little differently.

A brief note on quality leather shoes – they are something you should really try to only wear every other day, at most, with shoe trees in them when not being worn.  This helps the leather (inside) to air out from having your feet in them, and should help them last longer.  When breaking in new shoes (or boots) that, of course, gives your feet a welcome break as well.  For the first day out, I wore a thicker pair of wool socks, and then went to normal thickness after that.  The left boot was feeling pretty comfortable by the third day of wearing it.  For the right boot, though, I kept having this pinpoint of pain over my right arch.  I tried adjusting the lacing, tighter, looser, and so on.  Finally, I broke out the flashlight and felt around, and found a hard bit of adhesive near the base of the tongue that was the culprit (likely from attaching the liner).  Took that out, and it was so much better.  So, another two or so days, and I had a pretty comfortable pair of Zinds to stroll around in.  One other quick “quality” note – I did notice a few lose threads on the double stitching.  Nothing that made it seem like the boot was coming apart, but still some cleanup necessary.

The Helm Boots Zind are definitely a dressier profile than many boots, as a lot of boots these days seem to pull more from the workboot side of things.  With the Zinds, you’ve got a narrower profile with the last, and that, combined with the smooth toe and slimmer soles just makes it feel a bit dressier.  I’ve not tried these with a suit, but I think they could easily pull it off.  What this means is that these boots are perfect for me for the office.  They’re dressier to wear with a pair of khakis or slacks, but not totally out of the question to wear with jeans.  You definitely have the dress shoe sound when you walk with them as well, given the fact that the heel is only half rubber (the other portion is leather), and it resonates through to heel into the floor.

The leather portions of the soles on the Helm Boots Zind do get scuffed up, but that’s to be expected.  That will actually give you a little better grip, though there are good bits of rubber on there to help in that regard as well.  Perhaps not for trail hiking, but for walking around the city, it’s perfect.  And with the natural finish of our review pair, these are boots that should pick up a lovely patina over time (for those wanting a brighter color, there’s an orangey Teak color).  This is a much different shade of brown than I’d normally go for (I tend towards chocolate browns) but I was surprised by how much I liked the natural tone.  And of course, if you wanted to darken it some, that could be accomplished with some shoe polish, or even just some winterizing protectant (I find myself partial to Obenauf’s LP which has a lovely honey smell), or even just leather conditioning products.  Other than basic clean and care, though, I’m curious to see how the leather colors and ages.

Speaking of color – it’s a good rule of thumb to match your shoes and belt, in terms of color.  Well, you can pick a belt that’s the exact same as your boots, as Helm offers belts made from the same leather and finishing.  I did notice that the belt was a touch darker than the boots, but given the separation between the two, it’s close enough for me.  And, like the Helm Boots Zind, the belt should darken up over time a bit as well.

Thinking about the long-term longevity of leather products like this is something you need to do.  Or, at least, you should want to.  Why is that?  While I think the pricing of the boots and belts are quite reasonable for what you’re getting, they’re not what you would call an impulse buy.  The Helm Boots Zind carries a price tag of $399, while the belt (either wide or slim; we went with a wide) is $98.  Now, if you sign up for their mailing list, you’ll get a quick $50-off code, so that’s a nice pickup there.  If you’re used to picking up a pair of $40 boots from your local department store, the Helm Boots Zind are going to feel expensive.  And they’re not inexpensive, but with the quality of leather and construction, along with the ability to resole them, means you’ll have a pair of boots that’s with you for the long haul (be sure to check out the gallery at the end of the article for a closer look at some of the detailing).  It’s not unreasonable to expect that you’d get an easy 10-20 years (or more) out of them if you care for the leather.  Which means, over time, a pair of boots like the Helm Boots Zind will actually be more affordable than buying a new cheap-o pair every year.  Counter-intuitive, but it’s the basis of why you should look to buy the best quality you can afford at the time.

I’ve got other pairs of shoes that can be resoled, and one other pair of boots.  So far, the boots (a pair of Red Wing workboots that I had from my time in glass plants) are the only ones I’ve had to resole, but it’s an interesting experience.  You send your worn out boots off, and you get back ones that you recognize all the creases and scuffs in, but have had the leather reconditioned and the new soles in place.  It’s a great way to really maintain your investment, and have a pair of shoes that are identifiably you, as they’ll reflect all the adventures you’ve taken them on.  I can’t wait to see what these Helm Boots Zind look like a few years down the road.  And with the slimmer, almost dressy profile to them, these are boots that will fit in across a wide variety of situations – suited or casual, warm weather or cool.  In other words, a great go-anywhere, do-anything sort of a boot.  Color me a fan of what I see coming out of Austin with Helm Boots.  If you agree (or, if for some reason you don’t) let us know in the comments below, or over in our Slack channel.  I’m just a sample size of one, so I am curious to see what others have thought as well.  helmboots.com

Review Summary

Brand & Model: Helm Boots Zind (in Natural) and wide belt

Price:  $399 ($98 for the belt)

Who’s it for? You are looking for solid everyday, all-around boot that will go the long-haul

Would I wear them? Undoubtedly!

The best thing about the boots:  Along with the slimmer profile, I like the visual pop that you get from the white midsole

Watch they pair best with:  The Helm Watches Vanuatu, naturally

Specifications from Helm Boots

SHELL:  Full-grain Natural Horween Chromexcel® leather

LINER:  Fully lined with black leather

STITCHING:

Blake Rapid Stitch welt construction

Black double stitch throughout

MIDSOLE:  HELM signature white midsole

SOLE:  Fineline sole for added grip and durability through all seasons

EYELETS:  Antique brass eyelets

LACES:  46 in Brown waxed cotton laces

LAST:  415 lasted

SHAFT:  6 1/2 in.

WEIGHT:  2 lbs.

FEATURES

Handcrafted in the U.S.A.

Resoleable

Seasonally updated sock liner quote and tongue stamp

Reinforced leather pull tab

Kicking around with the @HelmBoots Zind Natural #boots #belt #mensstyle #mensfashion (@HorweenLeather) Just as with watches, when you start diving into the world of shoes and boots, you get to discover all sorts of interesting brands that are out there, just doing their thing at the top of their game.  

[kyrieanne]

Jalton 2,3,7,13

They each have their thing:  Preach populates the Quonset hut with candles his wife ships him from home, Amir has a CORRECT way to organize the dishes, McG had to remodel the bathroom to fix what he considered a woeful lack of counter space, and Top has his grocery list. 

A bunch of grandmas, they all are 

Jaz tells Patton as much one Saturday as her guys bicker from the kitchen. She and Patton are tucked on the couch playing video games. She’s doing a pretty good job of ignoring them until Amir shouts, “That’s not how you do that,” and she misses her shot. Patton whines and looks at her pityingly. 

McG is on KP today and Amir has been hovering as he puts the dishes away. McG brandishes a spatula in Amir’s direction as if to hold him off. 

“I’ve labeled where everything goes. All you have to do is read.” Amir shakes his head. 

“I put everything back where the dumb labels say,” McG counters, “I don’t know why your herbs aren’t in the right order.”  

Preach and Top look incredulous from their spots at the table, but Jaz knows better than to think any one of them is better than the other. She lives with a bunch of fussy soldiers who could spend a week covered in mud, stinking and secreting sweat, but unravel if you mess with their domestic thing. 

“Why does it matter?” 

Amir’s mistake is answering the question, “To maintain mise en place.” 

McG cracks first and pretty soon Preach is crying he’s laughing so hard. Amir swears in a dialect Jaz doesn’t know and disarms McG of the spatula. 

“I’ll do it myself,” he says.

Top finds Jaz from across the room and winks at her. 

*** 

It’s McG’s turn next when one of Preach’s candles is knocked over and spills wax all over his brand new bathroom counter (no one knows how McG found the slab of stone in Incrilirk to replace the MDF pre-fab one). 

“Just fess up,” he complains over dinner that night. The wax has hardened by now because McG insists that whoever spilled it should scrape it up. 

“Who was the last one to - you know,” Amir waves his hand. 

“Take a shit?” Jaz supplies. She’s never been so glad to have her own bathroom, even if it’s basically a closet. 

Preach sets his water glass down with a thud. “Is that what you’ve been using my candles for?” 

Amir and McG both refuse to look at Preach. Top is suddenly very keen to feed Patton bites of his dinner in exchange for a shake. 

“Those are hand poured candles infused with essential oils,” Preach scoots back his chair, “they’re in there to use when you shower. The steam and the oils are good for your -,” he stops because they’re all looking at him with wide eyes, “Forget it. Neanderthals all of you.” 

Preach stalks away from the table, and Jaz takes the opportunity to steal Top’s last fry when no one else is looking. 

*** 

Top is different - the others are fun - but this is to keep him from thinking he’s above such domestic squabbles. That he’s the grown-up here. 

With him - it’s the grocery list. The rule is if you’re the last one to use it - you add it to the list. The other rule is you need to add it in the correct section of the notepad he has stuck to the fridge with an adhesive magnet. Each section is an aisle at the commissary so when one of them goes they can get in and out as fast as possible. 

“Because the end of the world would be wandering around a grocery store, poking the shelves, seeing what’s out there that you haven’t tried,” Jaz teases him one night. They’re in the kitchen. It’s his turn to make dinner and she’s perched on the counter keeping him company. 

“It’s a system,” he shrugs and reaches over her legs to grab a dishtowel. 

For the brief second his wrist brushes her thigh and she notices the bump on the outside of his wrist; there’s objectively nothing attractive about that part of a man’s body. But Jaz finds her gaze focused on that tiny part of him - her fingers want to grab his wrist and turn over his forearm, to feel the corded muscle there and skim her fingers across the sensitive skin right below that strange little bone at Top’s wrist. Absently, she repeats the gesture on her own wrist. She inhales and steals a glance at Top. He didn’t notice did he? But he’s back to making dinner, and Jaz sits up straighter as if that’ll shake off whatever has her acting weird today.  

Top dishes a spoonful of his “famous” jambalaya onto a plate and hands it to Jaz to taste test.  “We’re military. We like systems.” 

“Thanks for the explanation,” she deadpans, “I wasn’t sure about that. 

Top simpers and pushes the jambalaya toward her. She takes a test bite. “Needs more kick,” she says through a mouth full of food. 

Top waves her off. “You’re the one with the stomach of steel. Besides -,” he gives her that smug look that just makes her want to punch him and laugh at the same time, “Without the grocery list system all of you would go hungry.” 

She laughs and hops off the counter. Oh, this was gonna be fun. 

*** 

“I know one of you did it.” 

He waits until after dinner when they’re all sitting on the couch watching Jaz kick McG’s ass at the latest first-person shooter game. Patton is next to Jaz and quirks his head at Top as if insulted. 

“Not you,” Top says quickly. 

“What are ya talking about?” McG says through a mouth full of Amir’s latest concoction. The two seemed to have bonded over the tedious job of scraping dried wax out of of the grout lines of the bathroom floor tile; McG happily took on KP duty to Amir’s standards in exchange for the chance to request his favorite foods. Jaz was happy because when Amir was happy they all ate better. 

Jaz knows how to play this - she doesn’t lift her eyes from the screen, and manages to take out McG’s character as he, Preach, and Amir all stare at their CO. Only Patton notices her victory. He puts a congratulatory paw on her leg and she rewards him with a scratch behind the ears. 

“One of you convinced the commisary to rearrange all of their aisles. So now my system doesn’t work.” Top waves his hand written notepad with the carefully labeled aisle numbers and categories. 

Preach tilts his head, “Are you insane?” 

Top directs his gaze at Jaz, “You’re the last one to mention my system.” 

“Yeah, cause if the four of you were the Golden Girls that system qualifies you as the Betty White character. So many damn rules.” 

McG hoots, “Who are the rest of us?”

“You’re Blanche,” Jaz says. 

“Naturally.” 

“Preach is Dorothy, and Amir is Sophia.” 

Preach sets down his latest piece of tech, “How the hell does Amir get to be Sophia?”

“Do you not think Amir could pull off Sophia? She’s a wily one. He’s the invisible man.” McG counters. “Besides, you’re totally Blanche. She’s always exasperated.” 

“Which one of you is going to fess up to getting the commissary -,” Top starts. 

Jaz shakes her head, “Are we still talking about that?”

“It’s more likely they’ve been rearranging and you haven’t noticed.” Amir offers. 

McG leans over to Amir, “Do you know what we’re talking about? The Golden Girls?” 

“No idea.” 

“That’s what we’re watching after I kick Jazzy’s ass at this game.” 

“Can you get the Golden Girls in Turkey?” Jaz asks. 

Top claps his hands together. “Who convinced the commissary to rearrange every aisle just to mess up my system?” 

McG looks at Jaz, “He’s totally Betty White.” 

Jaz holds up a finger, “Not Betty White; she’s cool. He’s Rose.” 

Top swears. 

Amir tries to be helpful again and Jaz really wants to pat him on the head, “Top, you just didn’t notice.” 

“That’s impossible,” he counters. 

Jaz sets her controller down. “Did you notice I got my hair cut last week?” 

All of the men still. Top looks like a cornered animal. 

“That’s–that’s not the same. You always wear it up. This is an entire grocery store.” 

Jaz shrugs, “And yet you missed what was right in front of you.” 

(Prompts: Why did I let you remodel the bathroom?”; “Here’s the grocery list”’; don’t think she noticed my new haircut; “No, that’s not how you do that”)  

[weirdfetishes123]

Lend a hand - deviantart

"Okay guys, we need to come up with an idea for our display at the college fair. Now, I’ve got something I think could be pretty impressive."

I tried to concentrate on what Brad was saying, but as usual I kept getting distracted. It didn't help that he was wearing a particularly tight t-shirt today that showed every line of his lean torso. I had only joined the science club because he'd been at the booth during orientation and I had trouble saying no to his easy smile. I didn't even figure out what I was signing up for until I arrived for the first meeting. When I look into his eyes it’s like there’s only the two of us, like all of his attention is on me.

"How about it?"

I jerked slightly as I realised I wasn't just imagining his attention this time, he really was talking to me.

"Sorry, I drifted off slightly. I was up late last night finishing an assignment."

"I asked if you would lend a hand? You know, with the project. You and me?"

I fought to keep myself composed. Time alone with Brad? Of course I was in.

"Yeah, sure."

He grinned "Thanks man, I really appreciate it."

He seemed unusually excited about the project. I guess that's why he's president of the club, he's passionate about all of this

---

I wasn't meeting up with him till the night before the fair. It seemed rather last minute to be leaving the work, but I wasn't going to question a plan that was working out so well for me. If we ended up working late together to finish it, well, that was fine with me. Maybe it'd be so late he'd invite me to crash at his place, we're both going the same place tomorrow anyway. And oh dear, there's only one bed. I guess... No. I was getting way too ahead of myself. But then again, I had to wonder why he picked me to work with him on this.

The days in between kept on in that fashion. Rising hopes and vain efforts to be realistic. I drifted through my classes, taking in absolutely none of what I was supposed to be learning.

Finally the afternoon arrived, and I went to the address Brad had given me. It was a small house in the suburbs near the college. I smiled when I saw the decal in the window near the front door. “If you’re not part of the solution you’re part of the precipitate.” At least I knew I had the right address. My finger hovered over the doorbell, my heart hammering out of my chest, before I summoned up the courage to press it. Mercifully he answered the door almost immediately.

"Hey, buddy! Great to see you. Thanks so much for agreeing to help me out with this. Our display is going to be the best one for sure."

"It's no problem." I mumbled, with all the nonchalance I could muster "Anything for the science club, you know."

"Come through, I'll show you where we'll be working."

As we made our way through the house I took in my surroundings. Shelves on every wall were overflowing with beakers, containers of chemicals, textbooks, and assorted other supplies.

“Wow, this is some pretty intense stuff you’ve got here.”

“Yeah, my chem major is great and all. But what I really enjoy is applying what I learn. I’ve even been able to sell a few of the things I’ve developed. I’ve also been working on a special project lately that I’m super hyped to test out.”

He led me out to the back yard. There were tins of paint all about and an abundance of rope. I wasn’t too sure what we’d be painting though.

“So, what do you need me to do?” I offered

“Chill out, we’ve got plenty of time.” He reached into a cooler and tossed me a can. “Have a cold one and I’ll explain.”

I didn’t recognise the branding on the can, but I shrugged and cracked it open anyway. I leaned against the wall and took a sip. It was unusual, but pleasant. Brad seemed in no hurry to explain himself, he just smiled approvingly at me. Approvingly and, I might have been imagining it, somewhat hungrily as well. I couldn’t think of anything to say to fill the silence, so I busied myself with downing the drink. As I finished it he sauntered over to me and placed his hand on the wall behind me. He was so close; our faces were barely a foot apart. I felt the empty can slip from my grasp and clatter on the concrete under my feet.

“You have no idea what you’re doing here do you?”

“I… uh…” Crap, I’m not as got at pretending to pay attention as I thought.

“It’s okay” He laughed “I see the way you get when you’re around me. That’s why I knew you’d agree to this project.” He took his hand off the wall and brushed a lock of hair back behind my ear before moving his hand to my shoulder. Steadying it. I felt his other hand move under my shirt and play across my abdomen. His head moved closer to mine, our lips barely an inch from each other. Then I felt something else in his lower hand, he was pushing it into my navel. My hands shot down to grasp at what he was doing. There was a hose trailing out from my shirt. His smile became even wider. He pressed harder on my shoulder, pinning me to the wall, as his other hand reached behind him. I heard a hissing begin. He released me and stepped back to reveal a large gas tank that was feeding the hose. It was labelled He2. I stood, dumbfounded, for a moment, trying to understand what was happening.

“What is this supposed to-“ I stopped abruptly. My hands were still wrapped around the hose and I felt it moving. I looked down and saw my belly pushing outwards. I yelped in panic and tugged at the hose but something was holding it in.

“I wouldn’t bother trying to get that out. I coated it with an adhesive of my own design. It’s not going anywhere without the correct solvent.” Brad looked incredibly pleased with himself.

I pushed down on my belly, trying to contain what was happening. It compressed briefly but sprung back, continuing its growth unabated. I looked and felt like I had swallowed a basketball.

“How is this happening to me?” I gasped

“Well. That can I gave you was the special project I’ve been working on. A mix of chemicals that gives flesh almost unlimited elasticity. There’s a number of applications I’m hoping to market it for, but the fair gave me the perfect opportunity to test out one of the more fun ones. A parade balloon is a great way to grab attention, but I couldn’t find one that was really suited to our club. So, I decided to make one from scratch.”

“A parade balloon?” I repeated, aghast. The pressure continued building in my belly. My hands were pushed further apart as the basketball doubled in size and continued to push outwards. I tugged vainly at the hose, but Brad had secured it well. I couldn’t get it to budge. My shirt had rolled up over the top of my belly and the waist of my pants was painfully digging into me. I could feel the swelling starting to spread from my belly to the rest of my body. My limbs were becoming harder to move and the top of my shirt was tightening around my chest. Brad took a few steps back and looked me up and down, admiring his handywork. As good as it felt to have him look at me with such passion I wished it wasn’t because he was using me as a human guinea pig. It also did nothing to quell my panic.

Seemingly having overcome the initial resistance of my body the expansion picked up steam. My belly pushed out past the size of an exercise ball, tearing apart the waist of my pants as it did. I couldn’t have reached the hose at my navel if I had tried. My chest was pushing out to join my belly and one by one the buttons popped off my shirt, whizzing away as they did. My thighs were the most affected part of my limbs so far and as they swelled, aiming to join the sphere my torso was becoming, my underwear gave way as well as the remainder of my pants. I was now wearing only shoes and tattered remains of my former clothing. I kicked off the shoes while I still could to avoid ruining those too. I was mortified to be naked in this state in front of Brad, but he seemed to be thoroughly pleased with the show.

My chest and belly were no longer distinguishable as separate entities and my arms and legs were being pushed to the sides by their engorging girth. I was starting to have difficulty maintaining my balance and I had to adopt a wide stance to stay upright. I could no longer look all the way down due to my chest pushing up towards my chin. My torso sphere had claimed my limbs halfway down to the first joint when I heard the most merciful sound. The tank’s hiss began to die away before ceasing completely.

“Oh thank, God.” I muttered

“Don’t get too excited. We’re far from done.” Brad walked back over to inspect me as my panic surged again. “Remember, I need to you be a parade balloon, floating over our stall. This isn’t nearly enough helium to get you off the ground.”

He was right. Even though I had taken a whole tank of helium into my body I didn’t feel any lighter than I did before. “How much more are we talking?” I asked. Surely I couldn’t fit that much more.

“Well, I worked from the idea of a 100kg person. It’s an easy number to work with and I’m comfortable you’re under that. For current elevation and temperature helium can lift a little over a kg per cubic metre. Of course, I’m not entirely sure how much pressure your body will exert so I had to factor that in.”

“I don’t need the maths. How big am I going to get!?” I spluttered

“The needed lift will take about one hundred cubic metres of helium. Or to convert it to the dimensions of a sphere, you’ll be about five point seven five metres in diameter.”

The thought gave me a head rush and I would have toppled backwards had I not bounced off the wall behind me. Brad walked a circle around me, trailing his fingers across my taut skin as he did so. They skipped and bounced along the surface, like they would over a balloon, even squeaking when they met resistance. He pressed down into my flesh at several points and tapped on others.

“Yes. Skin integrity is holding admirably, you still have plenty of give and I’m confident you’ll be able to take the required volume. There’s no reason we can’t proceed.” He said to himself in a detached manner.

“No reason? What about my-“ I stopped abruptly as he caressed my jaw, gently running his thumb over my cheek. Protests about my feelings or wishes died in my throat. The look in his eyes told me that this was going to happen regardless. I was in no position to fight back. And besides. I was terrible at saying no to him.

“You’ll at least put me back to normal after this though?” I begged

“Mon amour. What do you take me for?” He tousled my hair. “The serum will wear off after a few days. If I left you inflated your frame would no longer be able to take the pressure, but I assure you I will have you back to your charming self well before then.”

“Good to know you’ve at least spared a thought to my wellbeing.”

“Oh don’t pout. Now, lets get you to a clearer area of the yard for the next phase, you’re a little cramped against the wall over here. You’ll need much” he lingered on the word “more room than that.” He disconnected the hose from the tank and slotted the connector into to another, longer, hose. I tested my balance and blushed, contemplating how I must look. Taking wide, slow, waddling steps I made my way to the centre of the yard. I looked about and tried to estimate just how far 5.75m was. Contemplating that made me want to run far from here but the thought of running in my state made me laugh to myself. Escape was a distant possibility at this point.

Brad dragged the rope over to me. “We can’t have you floating away, so first thing we need to do is get you secured.” My thinking hadn’t got that far ahead. I added one more thing to worry about to the litany of anxieties racing around my head. I complied as he tied loops around my ankles and wrists. I tried to inspect the security of the fastenings but since I couldn’t reach across my massive body to test them I was limited to a visual inspection. He tied the other ends of the ropes to four stakes that were driven into the ground of his yard. He looked over and must have seen my suspicious expression.

“Don’t worry. I tested these. They will hold.” He grabbed the paint tins and a brush and dragged them over to me as he spoke. “I’m a very thorough scientist, and you’re very safe.”

I snorted, I don’t know if I’d ever felt more unsafe and out of control than I did at that moment. But I had little choice but to trust him.

“Now.” He announced “We need to get you dressed up. As much as I’d enjoy it our mascot can’t be a big naked man.” I blushed as he busied himself with the paints. “I had to tweak the paints as well. Painting you at full size would be a mammoth task. These paints however will stretch out with you as you grow.”

He got to work, starting with a white base coat. As he busied himself with his project I began to relax a little. Getting such thorough attention from Brad sent a pleasant little shiver down my spine. I almost forgot how bizarre my circumstances were and drifted back to the fantasies I had for this afternoon. Of course, every time I had the urge to itch or stretch I would get a shock back to reality. Eventually he was done with his decoration and he stood back to inspect me.

“Beautiful” He exclaimed. “Wait here one moment.” Where was I going? I kept the remark to myself as he dashed inside and quickly returned with a dressing mirror. I couldn’t see all of myself in it at one time, even at a distance, but he moved it about so I could get an idea of how he had decorated me. I also got a good look at my overblown form for the first time. I had been made up to look like a scientist, most of my body covered in a white lab coat. Across my chest had he had written “Bleakwood College Science Club.” My panic returned as I realised this meant he would soon be moving on to blowing me up again.

“We’ll have you floating high enough up that no-one will be able to tell how ‘realistic’ your face is.” He chuckled to himself, clearing the art supplies away from my immediate vicinity. He took a hold of the hose again and located a gauge and knob that were along its length. “This is connected to an industrial helium tank I procured for this purpose. Are you ready?”

“Does it matter?”

He shrugged, grinned, and twisted the knob. I immediately felt the pressure within me spike. This tank was flooding the helium into me much faster than the first one had done. I felt myself steadily swelling, my limbs being rapidly swallowed by my expanding form. As the bottom of… me? I no longer really had many distinct body parts to speak of at the point. As the bottom of my sphere pushed my feet apart and touched the ground I finally lost my balance and toppled forward, letting out a yelp as I did so. I was now completely spherical save for my hands, feet and head. As the sphere claimed the last of my neck I also lost the last of my mobility. With my head cushioned on all sides by expanding flesh I could only look straight down at the ground. Brad’s feet stepped into the top of my field of vision. I felt him take my head in his hands and soothingly run his fingers through my hair and across the back of my scalp. The pressure in my body had no where to go anymore but out and I felt my body pushing outwards in all directions. I could further track my growth as I was pushed further off the ground and Brad had to slowly step back to accommodate my size. Eventually he had to let go altogether and he took a seat on the grass to watch his creation.

The pressure built within me. The speed I was moving from the ground was slowing but I could feel that that was simply to fill my massive volume. The gas was pouring in at a steady rate and the painted globe that was my body stretched out before me. Each breeze that wafted through the yard rolled my form slightly, but the weight of the ropes on each my limbs brought me back to a neutral position. Balanced on the tip of my belly, looking down at the content little man who had conned me into this. When I was a bit more than two metres from the ground he checked the gauge and updated me on my progress.

“You’ve taken about half of the helium needed. I think we can speed things up a bit more at this point.” He gave the knob a twist and the gas started rushing in so fast it vibrated my taut skin slightly, sending tingles through my body.

Only halfway? I thought. I’m not airborne yet, but surely I can’t fit twice as much gas in me as I have now?

But I kept expanding and, just as Brad had predicted, my body kept accommodating more. I could feel the lightening effects of the helium now and soon I felt my belly start to lose contact with the ground. I started to rise, slowly at first but picking up pace, until I was abruptly stopped by the ropes around my wrists and ankles and settled into a new neutral position. Brad was absolutely beaming. He jumped to his feet and pumped his fist.

“Yes! You look freaking awesome!” he crowed, before looking down at his gauge. “I left a fair bit of slack in my calculations to ensure we’d have enough lift. So, you’ve still got a ways to go my wonderful volunteer.”

“Why don’t we stop now?”

“Well, what else am I going to do with the rest of the helium? And besides, bigger is always better.”

He was now occupied in an exuberant celebratory dance, so I didn’t bother arguing with him further. I just had to hope that the tank would run out soon. Fortunately, at the gush he had left it on I didn’t have to wait too long. Though I’d guess he had pumped me up another ten or twenty percent just for his own amusement. As I felt the gush slow to a trickle and then stop I breathed a sigh of relief. Brad confirmed on the gauge that the tank was empty, then winched the ropes down a ways before disappearing under me. He let his fingers trail along my underside as he walked to my navel. I felt him tinker with the hose before appearing again, trailing the end behind him.

“There we go. All sealed up. We wouldn’t want you to spring a leak.” He slapped my firm underbelly for emphasis.

“What now?” I wondered

“Well, first thing in the morning I’ll take you over to campus to install you for the big day. In the meantime, you’ll have to spend the night out here. Of course, I wouldn’t want anyone to see you up close and see how I’ve achieved this little display. And I wouldn’t want you to get any ideas about calling for help either. So, I’m going to have to let you go a bit.” He released the winch on the ropes and I went shooting up into the air. Far further than where I had been before. For a few moments that felt like minutes I thought he had let the ropes loose, but I soon jerked to a stop. The wind at this height cause me to sway at the end of my tether. From my vantage point I could see him laughing and waving up at me before heading inside.

At least my time as a balloon would give me plenty of time to contemplate some revenge schemes for what he put me through. I hoped the science club would appreciate my display at least.

---

The fair came and went, and I watched it from my vantage point up in the sky. We won an award for our display and Brad told the rest of the club I’d done so much work on it I’d been too exhausted to come to the fair itself. Brad kept his promise and deflated me once the fair was done. He offered to buy me dinner to make up for my ordeal. I told him it was a start.

[droneseco]

Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark Review: Reliable 3D Printer for Beginners, But Maybe Skip the Upgrades

Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark

9.00 / 10

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The Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark is an incredibly well-built and reliable printer out of the box, which makes it perfect for beginners. With easy to use features like a flexible heated build plate and handheld touchscreen, in my experience, there were zero tweaks required to get amazing prints. That's an incredible achievement for any printer, let alone one at this price point. I've tried a lot of 3D printers over the years, and almost none of them have "just worked". Full marks for the core package.

Specifications

Brand: Lotmaxx

Build Volume: 9.25x9.25x10.4 inches (235x235x265mm)

Printing Accuracy: 0.1-0.4mm

Connectivity: MicroSD, USB

Heated Build Plate: Yes, flexible and removable too

Feed Type: Bowden tube

Dimensions: 17x18.3x19.21 inches (443x466x488mm)

Weight: 18.5lbs (8.4kg)

Dual-Color Printing: Optional upgrade

Pros

Fantastic quality prints out of the box, no tweaking required

T-slot metal chassis is solid and well built

Detachable screen for convenience

Heated, removable, flexible print bed

Cons

Bi-color printing adds too much complexity, wastage, and failure rates for beginners

Auto-leveling upgrade is temperamental

Laser engraving prints line by line

Messy wiring once you add in any of the upgrade modules

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Easy to use, good quality prints, reasonably priced: pick any two when it comes to 3D printers.

At least, that used to be the case. The Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark doesn't compromise on build quality, yet it's also easy to use, works out of the box for reliable prints, and is very reasonably priced. It even has a selection of upgrades available, able to turn it into a dual-color extruder, or even a laser engraver.

Initial Impressions and Design

Arriving somewhat flat-packed, you'll need to spend a good half hour or so putting together the SC-10 Shark before first use. This isn't as bad as it sounds; it's certainly not what I'd call a DIY kit. Construction amounts to bolting on the upright gantry, as well as the spool holders, and screen. An extensive set of tools are provided, as well as a replacement Bowden tube, clippers, and scraper. Everything you could possibly need to get started printing is included, including some sample filament.

The component quality of the SC-10 is a class above most printers, with an all-metal T-slot chassis and injection molded plastic parts. It looks and feels premium, and solidly built. Whether that translates to good quality prints is another matter.

The core design is that of an Ender 3 clone, with a Bowden tube feeding the filament into the print head. A filament feed sensor ensures that running out of filament mid-print will pause and alert you to change it.

While the filament sensor is a useful touch, I admit I'm not a fan of the Bowden tube. The interface of the printer means that changing the filament requires pressing the same button about thirty times in order to move the filament 10mm at a time until it leaves the tube. A direct-drive extruder located directly on the print head is much easier, but this is a minor complaint.

A large, removable full-color touchscreen can be found on the right-hand side, with a coiled cable which means you can manipulate the screen from anywhere within about a foot radius. Although this sounds like a small point of note in the hardware specs, I found it to be surprisingly useful, especially when you've got the printer perhaps pushed off to the back of your desk, or in a cabinet. The interface is a little slow, however, and could probably have simplified into a monochrome scheme to speed up processing.

You can transfer Gcode to the printer using a micro-SD card. Although USB printing is supported, it's not recommended from a PC, and I have yet to see any official support for Octoprint.

Particularly useful for beginners is the heated and removable flexible build plate. A heated build plate helps with first layer adhesion, which means fewer failed prints. Removing prints is effortless: just pull off the magnetically attached steel build plate, and bend it slightly to release the print. Scrape off any residue using the supplied scraper.

Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark: First Print

Before getting started with your first print, you'll need to manually level the print bed using four large dials located underneath. Select the leveling process from the settings menu, and place a sheet of paper on the print bed. Tap each leveling point in turn, and adjust the dial until you can start to feel some friction on the paper between the nozzle and the build plate. Repeat until it feels the same at all five points.

My first print was using the supplied test Gcode: a lucky cat. I'm pleased to report it worked the first time, with good adhesion and fast printing speed. While there is a slight issue with a drooping overhang under the right paw, it's still incredible quality for a first print, and these could easily be fixed by slowing it down.

What really surprised me was how incredibly quiet it was when printing. When idle, the fan noise is audible but easily ignored; but when printing starts, you could be in the same room and not actually know it's on. This is in sharp contrast to my aging Prusa Original mkII, which the entire house is aware of. The combination of solid metal frame, powerful stepper motors, and good quality stepper driver chips are what makes this possible. I would happily put the Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark in my office or bedroom while it prints.

Slicing Models

Lotmaxx provides custom software for slicing; it appears to be a modified version of Cura. Though I'm more familiar with Slicr, it feels easy enough for beginners and pros alike, displaying all the features I'd expect in an accessible way. There's a variety of quality presets, or you can delve into the individual parameters and create your own custom profiles. Slicing a downloaded STL file (for a 2V geodesic dome) was effortless, and again, produced a fantastic quality print with no failures. Printed at a slower speed than the lucky cat, there were no bridging issues at all.

There's no reason you can't use your own favorite slicing software, of course—the printer uses standard Gcode, and the settings can be taken from the device profile. But for beginners, I'd recommend just using the Lotmaxx software until you're more comfortable.

There's another reason to use the supplied software: if you purchased the laser engraving upgrade, the design software to produce laser Gcodes is integrated. Unlike 3D object slicers, I'm not aware of any third-party software that can handle this. Which brings us neatly onto the first upgrade available for the Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark.

Laser Engraving Module

The laser engraver is the easiest module to install, requiring only a few bolts to secure it to the right-hand side of the standard 3D print head. Once plugged in (to the front of the machine), the printer will automatically recognize it should switch over to Laser mode, without any firmware modifications or settings being changed. The interface adjusts accordingly, and you'll be able to select your laser Gcode for printing.

Use the clips provided to attach your print surface securely to the build plate. Since the engraver module is attached to the right of the print head, the actual area available to print on is less than the full build plate; roughly two-thirds the size, but this is still plenty big enough for most purposes. MAke sure you're wearing the provided safety goggles, then activate the laser and use a combination of the Z-axis and manually adjusting the focus dial on the laser module until the laser beam is focussed. Then you can start printing your design.

While it's generally safe to leave a 3D printer to its get on with its business thanks to thermal safety features, burning wood and other materials with a high-powered laser is another matter. Do not leave the machine unattended when printing in this mode.

Unfortunately, my results with the laser engraver were disappointing. Rather than treating outlines as a continuous movement then filling in the middle (as it would when 3D printing), the laser engraver prints line by line, like an inkjet. It looks quite terrible and ruins the utility of the module for me. The hardware is obviously capable of much better, so either I'm doing something completely wrong that isn't well explained in the manual, or it can be fixed with a software update.

Auto-Leveling

The second upgrade you can purchase with the SC-10 is the auto-leveler, a 3D Touch module. This is a small, physical probe that drops down, touches the print bed, then retracts. It's an inexpensive module, but in my experience, wasn't worth the hassle.

The auto-leveler attaches in much the same way as the laser engraver and also plugs in around the front of the machine. Unlike the laser module, you'll need to modify the firmware configuration file in order to make use of it, as well as change the Gcode start settings found in the slicing software.

Though I did manage to get one successful print having installed the auto-leveler, subsequent attempts sent the print head crashing into the bed. After much experimentation, I found the BLTouch seemingly requires the print bed to be manually leveled first, which somewhat defeats the purpose of an auto-leveling mechanism.

At this point, I was also frustrated with the lack of live Z-adjustment. Live Z-adjustment means that you can move the print head up and down even when the print process has started, so it's easy to back off or add a little more squish for the first layer, as needed. If you've manually leveled the bed anyway, this generally isn't needed, since it's already tuned to a paper thickness. But every time using the auto-leveler, I found I needed to tweak it slightly. Which again, involves the manual dials underneath the bed.

This is the first time I've used a 3D Touch probe, and I hope it's the last. The PINDA inductive probe method used by Prusa is more reliable and is able to adjust for all manner of warped beds without any manual intervention.

So despite being an inexpensive upgrade, I just wouldn't bother with the auto-leveler. Out of the box, manual leveling works just fine.

Bi-Color Printing with a Dual Extruder

The final upgrade you can purchase for the SC-10 Shark is the most complex to install, and most impressive—if you can get it working right.

Printing in multiple filaments takes the creative possibilities of a 3D printer to a whole other level. As well as multiple colors, you can print more complex objects thanks to water-soluble support structures.

The dual-extruder upgrade on the Lotmaxx SC-10 involves completely disassembling the print head and replacing the hotend. You'll then have two Bowden tubes to deal with. You'll also need to fit a second extruder motor, sensor, and filament holder onto the gantry, and remove the base of the printer to install a driver chip. And there'll be more cables to route, which again, plug in at the front of the machine. It took me at least an hour, and I'm fairly certain I broke the single-color hotend in the process, thanks to an uncooperative Bowden tube clip.

When you're finished, it's a little messy, if I'm honest. While I can deal with a dangling cable for the temporary use of a laser engraver, once you add in an auto-leveler and second extruder, the neatly wrapped cabling and overall aesthetics of the printer are ruined.

After again altering the firmware configuration file and printer profile settings, the test print turned out great. It's a beautiful two-color cone, it really is. But one thing you should know about bi-color printing from a single print head is that getting defined colors like that requires cleaning the hotend at each color change. The print head moves off to the side, squirts a bit out into a column of waste, then carries on. To produce that one lovely test cone required an equally large column of waste.

Perhaps this is a non-issue if you're printing an entire plate full of beautifully bi-color cones. Wider, flatter models produce comparatively less waste, for sure. But I have to ask if it's worth it. You can turn off the column of cleaning waste if you want, but the results are terrible; you can see below how the bi-color effect is ruined, and you'll get "bobbling" where it tries to change colors anyway.

Unlike some printers, the Sc-10 Shark can't mix colors. Attempting to push the other filament in at the same time doesn't work, and you'll hear the extruders clicking as the filament jams. This means that before each print you'll need to ensure both filaments are retracted about 1cm into the Bowden tube. This isn't an automatic process, so you have raise the hotend temperature first, then retract each extruders. It's even trickier with lighter colors filaments as the tube is opaque white, so you may need to use a smartphone flashlight to shine through the tube.

You should also know that designing a two-color print requires two models. You'll need to load both models in, hope they align, assign each to the respective print head, then merge them. There are comparatively few ready-made bi-color models available in this format for you to download.

Although the results are impressive, the additional wasted plastic, slicer complications, and inability to color mix filaments inside the hotend mean that you need significantly higher levels of patience to get good results. Once I swapped over to the dual-color system, my failure rate skyrocketed.

I should also note that it's still possible to print in two colors even without a second extruder if the color change occurs at a specific layer. This enables you to print things like signage by just sending a pause signal at a certain layer, and swapping the filament over.

Aside: the print above was terrible quality (though it didn't fail, as such), with pillowing on the first layer and what seems like over-extrusion throughout. I'm still trying to isolate why.

Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark: Great for Beginners

Let me be clear: the Lotmaxx SC-10 Shark is an incredibly well-built and reliable printer out of the box, which makes it perfect for beginners. With easy to use features like a flexible heated build plate and handheld touchscreen, in my experience, there were zero tweaks required to get amazing prints. That's an incredible achievement for any printer, let alone one at this price point. I've tried a lot of 3D printers over the years, and almost none of them have "just worked". Full marks for the core package.

But once I got to the optional upgrades, I ran into increased failures and disappointing results.

The auto-leveler is unreliable and still needs manual adjustment. Manual leveling really isn't that hard anyway, so I ended up just disabling the 3D Touch module.

The dual-extruder adds too much complexity for the beginner and decreases the overall reliability of the prints; I wouldn't recommend installing it and ruining what is otherwise a great printer. If you're a pro user who must have the ability to print with dual-extruders, I'd recommend a printer that's designed for it from the outset, rather than an optional upgrade.

The laser engraver is the most promising upgrade that requires the least effort to install. While I haven't had great best results with it yet, I'm confident it can be improved. If you can buy one upgrade only, it should be the laser module.

Then again: at around $400 for the complete package, it might be worth a punt anyway. Software updates might improve the performance of the upgrades, or you might be confident enough later down the line to install them without fearing the inevitable tweaks.

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