#and then crank the dial up to 20 on all of the above.

[jelreth]

38k words and counting over all three wips in my docs right now. but GOD it would be so funny if i wrote a fic specifically to start beef in a fandom im not in.

[doublekanble]

Ghost in your home.

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic

word count: 8.5k

or, ever since you came back into his life, you came back wrong. And every attempt to understand or to fix you only ever serves to widen the distance. (have you ever love someone who died and came back so much you try to forced them into the mold of who they used to be without considering the fact they're no longer the same person? instead of learning to love them again? well have i got good news for you.) tw: toxic relationship (what's new). 2-4 have a progression of injuries and gorish talk. semi unreliable narrator alastor

1. His house is always at a pleasant 20 degree Celsius, but it always feels like 0.

“Now, I’m sure this is a bit upsetting, yes. But I assured you it’s for the better— “

Sharp yellow teeth grinded against each other, Alastor do his best to keep his own temper in check when another pillow hit his chest. The sounds of radio dials going haywire blares out for a second before evening itself out and turn to a low frequency hum. He picked these because he knows you would’ve love them, seems your tantrum triumph your love for the colors, after all. Standing a respectable distance away from you, at the door, he simply tries to focus on the positive.

“Shut the fuck up!” you roared, whipping your head around to stare into his eyes from where you’re hunching over, he would try chiding you for your nasty mouth, but that can wait until he’s sure you won’t rip the carpet apart. “What are you even trying to do?! Was killing me before not enough for you? You just have to hunt me down and make me lose my job— “

“—An extremely unnecessary and useless job that you’ll never have to bother with ever again!” when he starts to walk towards you, arms open and still trying to put you above himself, your snarled at him and lowered yourself, as if ready to lung at any minute. It wasn’t until you bring your hands up that he realized what you were doing, your fingers clutching the duvet below you tightly. Almost like a wounded animal retreating into its hiding spot before choosing to fight, you sat on your knee with sharp fingers, and in a single tug, you tear it into two.

“I wanted that job, Alastor! That was my job!” bellowing out at him with a fury he have never seen in you while bunching however much of the useless cotton that can fit in your hand, you tried to throw it at him again. It fell just below his feet and bloom open instead. Alastor doesn’t bother kicking it off to the side, opting to step over it and the other mess you made in your room. “You go and get yourself one that can guarantee you decent rooming and livable wage in this hellhole without selling your soul you dog!”

His shadow covers your figure as he look down at you with what he hoped is a more than amicable smile. That duvet and the torn books, the lamp and the drawers, everything, was picked out just for you. Now it’s all on the floor, even before he got to your room. He laughs.

“That’s absurd, love! Are you really trying to justify working in that pigsty for nickels and dimes? And even so,” Judging from the way you cowered and the interference in his voice, Alastor made a wild guess that he failed, but there’s no need to dwell on the specific. Light escaped to the corners when statics runs through the air before cutting off completely and red stares back at him from the bottom of your irises, you grow just a tad smaller in his eyes. “There is absolutely no need throwing such fits over minor disagreements. We’re both decent folks raised right, aren’t we?” you winced visibly when he cranks his neck to a sharp ninety-degree, he almost feels bad for you.

“It’s not ‘minor’, everything I worked for is gone. You scorched them like they’re nothing…” You grumble out and break the eye contact, tone spiteful but small. There’s a tinge of cautions in it now, like a dog with tail in between it legs, still growling from it belly but caution of the fight.

“I wouldn’t have burn anything that meant something to you, love,” Cooing at you, he can feel his bones shifting back into place as Alastor reaches out a hand to smooth out your hair, finally able to frets over your messy and unkept state from the morning outburst. You keep absolutely still under his hold. “All those frivolous rubbish you kept in that tiny living quarter of yours combine won’t worth half as much as a single item in this room! And look at where they all ended up…”

“They meant something to me, Alastor.” He glances down at his hand, your sudden grip on it was tight, with the nail on your thumb pressing right at his vein as a warning. He can tell when someone’s doing something to scared him, this isn’t that at all. You seem to almost be unaware of it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alastor finds the notion of you needing to know how to do this —or the fact you’re even doing it out of habit— wholly annoying and unpleasant. “I like them, and I worked to buy them with my own means.”

At that, he smiles, such a messy little thing, you always are. Awfully sentimental and always get caught up on the wrong thing. Alastor gets it, he really does. He gets sentimental over stupid, silly little objects and items too. The rock he picked up somewhere when he was five, placed in the corner of the drawer that he threw out once he found it again as an adult. His first tailored suit that he worked day and night for, collecting dust in his closet by the time he looked back. That letter of acceptance kept in a box, the one he burns the day that lousy owner of the radio station was discovered at a bottom of a creek and got replaced with someone much more pleasant.

Alastor has things he treasured too, and unlike you, he knows when to let something go and when to take a hold of it. That’s why your old place stand as nothing more than ashes blowing in the wind. You always have a knack for frantically holding onto your romanticism and the nonsensical. He honestly would rather be giving you more time to adapt, but not only are you horribly fussy about it, Alastor now has his good grace thrown in his face.

“Well then, if you’re so hung up on them, then you’ll feel more than at home to work for everything you’ve wrecked today, yes? Afterwards, we can get talking about getting you something else.”

You’re a terribly lucky thing, still able to even breathe where Alastor maimed so many for much less. He thinks you know you are, that’s only why you’re so insistent on being so difficult, glaring up at him with hate in your eyes and a such a rotten attitude.

“Get out,” your voice was small, but far from scared. With fingers curling around his wrist uselessly, you all but snarled, “Get. Out.”

“They’re awfully expensive, as you already know. They’ll do good to motivate you too. One stone two bird, as they’d say~” ignoring your silly attempt to provoke him into losing his temper again, Alastor wrapped his free hand around yours, and with what he thought was a gentle tug, pulls it from his wrist. He releases it when you winced, almost caught surprise by the change in the way you sit. Slightly hunching over, you held your hand close to you. His index nicked your wrist, and a bead of red ran from it.

Although it was no more than an accident, he knows you’re more than familiar with the ensembles of screams and cries running from the radio he placed in your room. You don’t need to know he will never let you join in with the harmony, but it’s nice to keep you on your toes sometimes.

“Stay good for me. Will you, darling?”

2. He gives you everything you could’ve ever wanted and more than you could ever need. He remembers your rapidly cooling body underneath him.

“Dearest,” sweetly, he calls out for you, gripping onto your shoulder, “Why are all the books in your bathtub?” he can tell it’s hurting you, but you keep your gaze far beyond the window and into the cityscape.

It wasn’t only the books, all of your lovely stationaries and art supplies and music sheets and what-else swims in that damned bathtub like a bloated corpse. Your room, although not as clean as it was before your little fit, it’s still a substantial improvement. It also gives you little to nothing in terms of fun aside from the lonely cacti sitting silently on a table with scratch marks, you’d refuses to step foot outside unless he needs you at the dinner table. Say whatever you want, Alastor is everything but heartless when it came to you, so he starts coming up with ways to give you some fun in your life.

He thought it’ll be the right thing to do, gifting you something for you to spent your times on and make a home out of your room. Which, in turns, might be the first push he needs for his home to become yours, too. He couldn’t really give himself too much credit, though. If anyone were to pay attention, they would all come to the same conclusion about you. Terribly restless and honest little thing, always on the move, always doing something. That’s what he loves so much about you, you can’t hide a single thought from him with how you can barely keep yourself together at times. Anything you feel always came up to your face. And if you were to dislike someone, he will know.

Even by the end, where you eventually grew quieter and more muted, looking behind your shoulders and fretful over invisible shadows hiding in the dark; your heart still stays so comically beautiful and kind. So lovingly, you still use the same fountain pen he gifted you. You were still you. So when he got you those things, Alastor was somewhat hoping to see just what you can come up with to further antagonized him. He’s not delusional as to hot-blooded and petty you are. You can hate him in this moment, but he knows you well enough to know you’ll never be like him. Always the kinder of the pair; you were never one for outright belligerent.

“I don’t know,” your voice was airy and light, then, “I don’t like any of them.”

But now, without him noticing, your eyes somehow carried the same glint as he does.

Down here in Hell, the day always been just a little bit brighter than the night. Obnoxious red always painted the sky, it’s really the furthest thing from the scenery back on Earth. Even then, the evening shade reflected in your eyes almost reminded him of the lovely days of being alive. With his red thumb practically piercing your collarbone with how hard he’s pressing down on you, sitting on the only chair in the room that’s still intact, by your half clawed-up desk, face sitting all neatly in the palm of one hand; you can almost be considered graceful like this, body lax and a wistful gaze. Alastor can almost be taken by the sight. Almost.

Although Alastor was only trying to turn you towards him for yet another scolding, for a second, he’d forgotten just how easy it is for his claws to tear. One moment, you were on the only chair left in the room, staring out a window and paying no mind to his growing ire. Another, you crumbled on the floor, hand replaced his. Slightly dazed from what just happened, he stands and watches on while you clutch at the bits of tendon and bones showing through skin, trying to squeeze the opening together with shaking hands. Red streams through between your fingers without a care as the familiar smell of metallic fills the room. You now faced towards the floor, frozen stiff like a scared little fawn. Alastor couldn’t bring himself from the sight. Right, you’re made of flesh, too.

He clenched the hand that touched you once to get rid of the ache soaking itself in his bone marrow, opens it, then twice, as if testing out the way your blood settles on his blackened palm. Shaking himself awake, he can almost feel the hunger clawing through his throat and molding itself into the will to bite. You really are lucky, if you were any old Joe, you wouldn’t even have a shoulder to rest that stupidly stubborn head of yours on.

“Darling,” a knee touching the floor, he kneels at his spot and reach a bloody hand out, moving the tip-over chair out of the way with another. An apology on the tip of his tongue, he bites and swallowed it when you inched yourself back just a bit with eyes still glued to the stained carpet. You wouldn’t really deserve one anyway. Long, heavy breath seeps through your bared teeth, your hold on that obnoxious gash tightened while the floor beneath you catches the blood that fell in droves. He sighs. “Come now, I’ll help clean you up.”

He can hear the sound of your heart, still frantically beating as you refused to answer or take his hand. Through the curtains of your bangs, he spots wild eyes darting to the door, before settling on his patiently waiting red claws. The moment you looked as if ready to bolt away, Alastor decides that he have been more than patient with you – seizing you by the elbow and dragging you up, he took you to his room for the day. You made a weak attempt at fighting out of his grip before giving up entirely. When your footstep slowly catches up to him, he thanked Lucifer.

In his well-decorated and tidy bathroom, over your humiliated protest and pitiful whine, Alastor forced a proper apology from your mouth while he scrubbed away the urge to sink his teeth into something and the crusted brown clinging to your flesh with a sponge and a grip too tight. You couldn’t complaint, too focused on what must be one of the worst pain you’ve felt since the day you were reborn. There’s nothing he can do for you, he thought to himself – you can handle a little more pain, you were so insisted about being so unfairly difficult despite his multiple humbling attempts at a peace offering or at least a truce. A brat until the end of time, no matter the length he’d go through for you.

Alastor would’ve wondered over and over to himself about just what was it that makes you so incredibly indispensable to him, but he knows why already. Standing by his window after patching you up and sending you back to your room with a “gentle” warning, leaving the bathtub ordeal to be dealt with tomorrow and having nothing else to do, he let a familiar tune plays from the neglected microphone leaning on his bed.

As a person, Alastor knows not of regrets. Everything he does since the day he buried his bastard of a father below the soil of the earth have been mark and marred with several distinct goals in mind. So that his mother can finally live the life God owed her, so that he can live the life he deserves, Alastor cheated and lied his way through life and climb up the social rank. With bloody hands and a silver tongue, he bought a house in a nice neighborhood and became well known amongst the community for his charm. And somewhere along the way, with dirt caked under his nails, he finds you in his life and you stayed until the day you died.

Life in New Orleans was always colorful, even when he was surfing through the night alone. But with you, it’s like getting to live through the good part twice. The day you died, a part of him died with you on the forest floor. Blooming under rotting leaves and buried below the rocks is the one other person that Alastor dare entrusted with his heart. It rots too, along with you, but he never really minded it all. Alastor knows you; he knows why you’re utterly indispensable to him.

As a person, Alastor knows not of regrets. But as Alastor, he finds that thoughts and daydreams can never talk and laugh like you do. In your absence, his thoroughly decayed heart only grows fonder of the you he remembers. When he came down here, he wasn’t able to bring a single thing of you with him. When he finds his way back up there, everything of yours was burnt and destroyed. So for the longest time, Alastor lives on with the thought of you in his mind and your warmth in his heart.

It's awfully painful, he quietly admitted to himself, it’s awfully painful how, even though you’re just a walk away now, room set right next to his, divided by thick wood; Alastor has never felt so much further away from the life he envisioned. His claws, clean of your blood, dance on the windowsill as he hummed along to a tune from the older days, the better days. He’s willing to wait, however. You surely will come around, you have to, and when you do, you’ll laugh about your stubborn streaks and poke fun at his willingness to let you trampled all over his ego like this. Surely.

For now, for the rest of the night, Alastor sat and stare out the window with nothing in mind. He hopes this feeling of fulfilled emptiness can leave before it takes roots in his heart.

3. The AM radio frequency only read white noise. He can’t hear your voice.

Your miserable sobs don’t get any quieter, even when he slammed the door closed.

Leaning against it with a huff, Alastor brushes off the familiar and unwelcome fatigue settling in his mind and adjusted the collar of his vest with one hand. There’s no use in going in there again for the night. If there’s one thing he can ever be sure of, it’s that you would throw yourself out the window the moment you see him again and made an even bigger mess for him to clean up. It’s shameful to admit he ever lose control over himself like that. In a perfect world, nobody should know the exact buttons to push like you do, no word should ever get to him like yours does. But Alastor long since accepted that if you were to ask for his heart, you’ll have it on a silver platter. You’re very firm on taking the stand of martyrdom before you ever ask him for anything, but he likes to think that he’s working towards that.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alastor started towards the kitchen. He hasn’t cook anything for the day yet, and he’s sure that the first-aid kit was still in there from your last tantrum. All this trouble, and he can’t even make a roast out of this. He knows you’re not too fond of meatloaf – or anything he made for you nowadays – but it’ll have to do, since you’re so keen on wrecking his schedule with your childish attempt at a spat and your nonsensical sentimental for that useless life you kept insisting you want back. Despite all of it, he does feel just a tad bit of pity for you. You, and your right arm, the one sitting silently in his left, bleeding all over his carpet floor. Hopefully this will teach you to stop moving around so much next time, you’re not unfamiliar with a broken wrist, but you just kept writhing and clawing at his hands, and his slipped.

Quite frankly, this is still a much better life than for you to be in the same room and so close to those revolting roughnecks and floors stained with Satan-knows-what. He can’t even fathom just why you’re still clinging onto it so tightly when there’s so much for you here. When he’s here.

He stills remember the sinking feeling in his chest when he makes his way to a figure quickly retreating behind the counter, under the dim lights and the rowdiness of a dingy café that barely qualifies as one. He wasn’t sure at first – Hell has a way of masking one’s appearance with a roulette game, and despite his growing contracts and connections, information might just be wrong. You could’ve been exorcised, or even worse, managed to wrangled your way into Heaven somehow and left him down here alone. But he placed his confident in a good friend, who promised him that if this isn’t you, then nobody else can be.

Bless the Christian God himself for his mercy, the moment he let that familiar name fell from his lips again after so many years of living without it, Alastor find himself staring into the same gaze that haunted his waking days and sleepless night. Holding onto you with a bruising grip, when you finally bring yourself to stare back at him like a deer in front of head light, his rotting heart comes alive with a fervor and he knew you’ll never be separated from him ever again. Back in his arms and under his wings.

Despite the time it took and your less-than-ideal reunion, he was more than thrilled to show you he finally made good of himself down here, just like he said he would. As Alastor lead you back with a smile splitting his face open, he tells you all about what he’s been doing. In his house is a room prepared just for you with everything you’ve ever love that he can get his claws on. It used to sit there and taunt him in the night where the silence stretches on and on and nothing in the underworld can distract him from the idea of your separation lasting until the end of time and the end of his life, that for all his preparations to make sure you two will never parted, he managed to miss the one chance he had with you in life. His halls echoed a voice that he barely able to recalled while he chased a shadow he desperately tries to remembers in whatever he can remember of you. The passage of time and his work might take your lovely voice and visage from him, but it will never let him forget how you feel about dark coffee or your favorite composer.

The time he lost being far away from you, the time you both lost being away from each other, Alastor was ready to make up for all of it. With good food, good wine, a good home and a good life. Finally, nobody will ever be able to turn their nose up at you both. If they do, he has more than enough means to fix it. His broadcast station no longer stays dependent on some white hotshot he needs to keep in a good mood at all time, it now plays only the things Alastor wants it to, forever. And now that you’re back, it’ll plays whatever it is you want too. All of it, just for yours and his sake alone. And then you turn your nose up at him, demanding for your old pathetic life back.

Ever since Alastor found you and took you home, you’ve been nothing but ungrateful, unpredictable, and downright hazardous to yourself and his furniture. Nothing like the darling he cared for from way back then. All bites and no barks, that’s what your silly threats and your mischief used to be in life. It’s nothing here, too, but he can only get so far restraining you to your bed until you learn how to break your own hands and slip it through the cuffs. You were always a lot of things, but this vindictive side of you still are so incredibly off-putting to him.

And yet, even with all of this, Alastor’s eroding heart breaks for you. Recently, he discovered an old book, one he took with him from the burning pile of your apartment and kept in his overcoat for a long time. It was a book that you shared with him when you both were alive, he was more than elated once reminded of the fact. Stained with black on the cover and slightly misshapen, the book must’ve gone through so much, considering your occupation at the time. Alastor remembers just how hard it is to get used to the disrespectful crowd down here, even for someone like him who can simply waved his hand and turn them into red paste on the filthy streets. You must’ve been so confused and scared, having to re-familiarized yourself to a new and much more unwelcoming world, making your way through an utterly horrific landscape without him there to help you with.

Naive, kind hearted and gentle you, even when you’ve killed before, you’re an easy prey in an awful, awful world. Mother always reminded him that wounded animal takes time to trust and they bite and clawed their way out of hands that moves too fast, so he need to make good by her words and keep on giving you just that, time. No matter the fact you barely improve, no matter how much time he gave you, or the fact it was him who clawed off your arm in the first place.

So, with a bright attitude, Alastor strides to your shut door with the sounds of your hysteria long gone. He knocks three times and calls out to you, then leave you alone with the first-aid kit. He’ll give you until midnight to do it yourself.

4. Love and hate are a hair away, he realized he hates loving you at times.

You’ve been improving, day by day. You stop biting back so much and starts to listen more, you sit when he asked you to and learned not to talk so brazenly while you’re at it, too. You don’t ever smile, yes, and his hallways still feel so cold at times. You walked as if you’re on eggshells, and you sleep with your body huddled under the blanket, as if there’s something hiding in the dark that will take you away if you dare peak out from it. You stacked books and boxes underneath your bed, too.

At times, Alastor felt like he’s having a guest staying over, maybe it’s because you’re acting more and more like one. Someone whom he knows well enough to accommodate their every need, but there’s an air of unfamiliarity, of the fact they’re not a close enough friend to stay over for so long, and their every decision needed checking. The thought itself is beyond ridiculous, he knew you for years before you died. He’s the closest friend you have, alive or death. He knows how you like your eggs; he memorized your voice; he knows when you need to sleep and when you like to wake up. But he digressed. Progress is progress, you’re getting better day by day, and he only ever have to threatened you a bit at times.

Which must’ve been why it felt so wrong, holding you like this.

He can only hope you won’t be able to discern his heavy panting over your own growing panic. Alastor could’ve sworn that he’s a better man than this, that he has more patience and more tact, already lived through a childhood with his head down and a smile stitched neatly on his lips. But he rationalized the way his pointer and thumb pinch together with the same compassion he have for a stray dog, separate only by your tongue, slowed and unmoving only by his own desire to give you another chance to explain yourself and take back your word and let him returns to his days of thinking you’re getting better, never minded the fact he’s not hearing anything out of his good ear right now. It’s not that he’s drawn to the way your pupils dilating and turned pinprick as your near incoherent pleading slowly cut itself off, realizing this might not end well. It’s not that he’s intently observing the trickle of blood running into the back of your throat, or the way your hot breath hit his hand, unable to close your jaw from the grip he has on you.

From the first dawn of this day until mere minutes ago, things were just lovely. Alastor managed to hold a ten-minute conversation with you in the morning, and by noon, able to coaxed you out of your hiding spot and onto your seat at the table with the promises of getting you whatever else you requested, as long as you keep your manner in check. You raised an eyebrow at the unusual and grand display of dishes for what you must’ve thought was a normal meal, but you stay silent. The four walls in your room had to be decorated by his own hands, and anything you refuses to keep, you throw into the toilet or buried under your growing number of plants out in the garden he’s not allowed to step foot in; thusly, there’s no longer a calendar in your room for you to keep tracks on dates.

When he pulls out a bottle of wine – full bodied, his favorite from when he was alive, it feels like blood sliding down his throats at times – you look at him, your eyes tells a world of distrust as he smile at you and pour it into two glass and hand you one. Alastor could’ve cried true tears of joy when you accepted it without making a fuss and simply placed it by your left, picking up a fork with your dominant hand. You waited for him to say something, before quietly thank him for the food and starts to eat.

For most of the meal, you work away at your own plate while he talks for the both of you. Alastor doesn’t mind, the fact you bothered to pay attention is good enough, occasionally nodding along or giving him a small huff or two. You’ve been doing a great job at staying in line ever since a year ago, especially once you learned you’re also made of flesh, just like the rest of the voices stuck in his broadcast. Alastor would’ve gladly taken this, if not for how you’re glancing off every now and then, contemplating something.

Particularly, you’ve been holding onto your glass for an awfully long time now, drifting off in the middle of him relaying an encounter he had the day before. Alastor pauses when you take it near your face and cleared your throat.

“…It’s not your birthday today.” You said, nonchalantly staring into the bottom of the glass, spinning it to and fro between the middle of your pointer and thumb.

“I’m glad you still remember my birthday, dear. But yes, it’s not! It’s surprising you can even tell what day it is!” he laughs.

You only glance up, before letting out a deep sigh, “You’re way more eager on your birthday.”

“Well then love, would you care to enlighten me on how I am today?” Alastor leans over the table with a smile, mood light and hoping you stop with the implications. You look angsty, however, gently lifting the glass up to your lips and take a small gulp. When you finally look at him again, Alastor felt his smile strains, he knows what that look means.

“What day is it?” with a clink, the glass landed on the table and stay there, “It’s not my birthday, nor is it yours. It’s not a holiday, too, far as I know. “

The corner of his lips pulls taut, his half-lidded eyes stare straight into yours. The sounds of something sharp pulls through the radio, but you refuse to back down. Alastor caved and took his own glass into his right hand.

“I was going to keep it a secret until we finished with our meal, but if you’re so insistent on spoiling the surprise—“ taking a long sip before continuing, if this goes south, he might need something stronger, “—It’s been a year since the day we reunited, right on the dot. I figured we should do something to celebrate, but you’ve always been such a stick in the mud about your past. So, I was going to have us finishing the meal first— “

The clanking of silverwares being drop onto porcelain plate was the first thing he catch, the ear-grating sound of your chair scrapping harshly against the kitchen floor’s the second. With both hand bracing against the table, you look half ready to launch yourself over it and kill him with your bare hands, but you breathe in, back straight, and simply look at him.

“Your mother would be livid if this is the you she knows.”

You looked as if you still have something else to say, but in a second, he have your face in his hand, grinning down at you while the base of his horns itch and creaks.

“Apologies, dear. I think I’ve heard something wrong,” the lights in the room flickered, in between the burning bright and the cold dark, he can only see red, “Do you want to try and repeat that for me?”

“Your fucking mother would’ve hated you.” Over the radio static bursting his own eardrums and your lovely voice spewing utter putrid, he tucked a thumb in before you can properly close your mouth, you clamped down onto it and grinded your teeth. He laughs.

“Oh~ you think you’re so incredibly brave, aren’t you?” sticking in another thumb, Alastor slowly pried your mouth open, the more he does, the quicker your attitude change, “So strong and so special. You can handle yourself just fine without me, can’t you? nothing I do will ever be enough for you.”

“Al—waih—“ you choked out, desperate. But he’s not having it today.

His pointer and thumb pull on your tongue.

Alastor swore up and down, he was raised a tactful and patient man. He followed his mother‘s word very carefully and tries his best to be charitable with you.

With eyes glued onto the trail of his blood, quickly drying on your chin, then to your tongue, with increasing pressure, he can feel his smile splitting open his own face, but there’s no joy to be found in his woeful, heavy heart.

It feels so wrong, holding you like this. He feels so wrong, looking into your eyes. You almost certainly accepted your fate by now, he feels a bit bad for you. So utterly helpless in his hold, realizing just how little power you truly have without his generous love, giving into you and letting you plays out your fantasy, even after everything you did. He knows you’re still getting used to this, he knows you needed more time. Alastor would almost consider this a lesson learned, but the statics blinds him to your pain, and for a moment, all he knew was that he wanted you to feel the same pain as he does.

So, because he loves you so much, because you want to hate him so badly, he ignored your hysterical cries as he pinches down on your tongue, then in one motion, he rips it from your nasty, bitter mouth.

5. Before he realized it, you weighted 21 grams.

It’s almost like he’s haunted, at times. The thought would’ve been amusing.

Humming a tune and walking up the three steps leading to the front door, Alastor eyed the Ficus sitting on either side of him, a brown leaf fell from the lulling branch while he fetching the keys from his pocket with one hand. They’re wilting faster than he can water them. What a shame it really is, not only have you lost your will for everything, you also lost the mood to take care of tacky house plant decor. Maybe he should try for some Begonia next?

“I’m home, love!”

Alastor is greeted with an empty corridor and a faint melody dancing through the air. He can only sigh and step further into his home, heading for the kitchen. Every day he hoped something would magically change, and every day Lucifer laughed at him from the top of his luxurious throne.

You can hear him, he knows you do. You managed to crawl all the way into the studies just to put on a song the moment he steps foot outside the house, after all. It’s a blessing, how you haven’t bolt right back into your room the moment you hear the door opened, you must’ve been in a good mood. He hopes you can stay that way until tomorrow, but it’s fine if you don’t, as long as you’re willing to eat whatever he puts in front of you. He peaked into the spotless kitchen, and with nothing out of place, he stepped inside.

Setting the groceries down, he pulled out everything he needs for dinner. Already with a dish in mind, Alastor whisked out an iron cast pot and set it on the stove. He shooed his shadows off and away, he can prepare for this recipe himself, and he want to be alone for a while anyway. He prepares all the ingredients before getting to the rice. The music flows from upstairs as he works in silence, mindful of his own microphone and keeping it off.

He doesn’t remember this song, it must’ve been one of the newer ones Rosie gave him to give back to you, assuring him you “just need more fun things in your life, then you’ll get to talking again”. Alastor wasn’t sure if you would’ve like it enough for him to keep it, but he wasn’t going to bother fighting with Rosie.

Turning the fire down, he closed the lid and set the kitchen timer to twenty-two on the dot. It should be enough time for him to make the roux, but he can check the rice early. Pouring oil into a pot to his right, he turned the fire up to max and began whisking the flour into it, when it turned brown, he drops the onion in and lower the heat to medium.

If not for him constantly reminding you, you would’ve ignored the needle-like pain in your stomach. Granted, you ignore it even when he did remind you, so he took to just make things and leave it in your room until you’re in the mood to eat. It’s been going on for two years now, enough time for him to regret playing into your hands and losing his temper. Alastor had hope that if he were to deprived you of everything he’s willing to give you for some times, you would finally get it through your thick skull that he only ever wanted good for you. Only, the you that greeted him after three long month was silent and still, lying on your bed with close eyes. The only sign you’re still alive in the first place was your breathing, almost invisible to the common eye.

He remembers hovering over you, a finger set on your chin and pulls it down. With an odd lump in his throat and a heaviness he rarely knows of, Alastor let out a weak chuckled, watching as a reformed lump of meat pulsates and weakly twitching in place of your tongue. Turns out, without the correct nutrients, the citizen of hell could only pray that whatever injury they obtained will kill them faster than they can heal it. And just as fate would have it, you’ve been holding onto such a thing ever since he locked you in.

Maybe that’s why your eyes haven’t change since, maybe that’s why you refuse to talk, maybe it still hurts, and maybe you afraid of getting used to the comfort he provides you. Or maybe you hated him for it, he wouldn’t know, you never really made yourself clear since that day. It’s the longest you’ve ever gone without anything that he gave you, and he’s trying his best now to make sure it’ll stay the longest you will ever go without anything ever again.

The roux turned a dark, shiny brown. He added almost everything else and stirs it for five minutes sharp. Quickly checking the rice once the timer calls for his attention, Alastor turned off the fire and reaches for the tomatoes and stocks. The music from upstairs come to a halt.

It’s became synonymous with you now, silent and stillness. Somewhere in the middle of an evening, Alastor came to the oddly upsetting realization that you just as well never return to the same you that he was trying so hard to recover.

Throwing in the two ingredients, he raises the heat back to high. When it began to boils, he puts it to medium and let it simmers for six minutes. A shadow came by and whispered winds and chimes into his flickering left ear, you’re back in your room with the gramophone.

When he was alive, every moment spent with you was bright and different. You were a wild spark of fire in the cold city, silently chasing after dreams with a caring and delicate heart. Your shared mirth used to fill the room as you talk over jazz and the constant chattering from loudmouth patrons. Those days became the only thing he held onto in the midst of his busy life down here.

Then one day, within his first few years of working his way up the ladder, still without your shadow haunting the empty room in his house; Alastor looked back on those days, the better days, and realized he can’t remember the exact note of your voice, he can only recall that you were happy. So he hunts down every corner of hell in a rush, afraid that the rest of you will slip away again. He laughs silently to himself; a meaningless thought crosses his mind. Is there even any of you left to fall through his fingers?

Putting the heat to low and adding in butter, he stirs until it blends and throws the shrimps and scallions in and something else hit him. He hasn’t been able to pin down the exact note and tone you tend to laugh in yet, nor have he able to watch any of your painting comes to life. He kept on stirring, after three minutes, he added seasoning. He catches a faraway song, barely making out the notes, he thinks that’s your favorite.

For weeks now, he kept going over everything he could’ve done wrong. Although he tries to ignore it, the animosity you shown since the second you saw him in Hell, maybe even before you’re dead, it might’ve stemmed from before he chased you down in the woods. But you know what he can do even in life, and you should’ve known Alastor would never hunt you down just to lock you inside the cacophonies he broadcasts on the daily. Alastor can at least understand that he struggled between giving into you and maintaining control. Perhaps that’s where your path diverts, perhaps you’re not meant to be by his side after all, ever since the day you die. Maybe you died before he even got to buried you, but Alastor can no longer pinpoint since when you died because he doesn’t know since when you started to play along with him. All he knows is that if he were to stops your breathing today, you’ll wake up tomorrow with no faith lost in him. The thought sits in his stomach and made itself home. But that’s alright.

Alastor rather stomached the idea of breaking you, the alternative was worse. If a life time of chasing your shadow only resulted in endless hate, that’s alright to him. As long as you’re still breathing and by his side, there’s surely a place for him in your heart. Surely.

His microphone sudden sparks up to life and died again. Right, the food, dinner. He gets to setting up your plate.

Having lived for this long, Alastor’s used to playing along and getting along with the oddest of crooks. He’s unsure of how to ever get along with you, though. You have been nothing but nasty and callous before, but at least you talk and react. Now, you walk at a slowed pace, no longer making any sort of distinguishable noise as you do. Less of a guest, and more of a transparent image of someone he barely able to call himself an acquaintance to.

Or more precisely, it’s as if he’s fostering a ghost in his own home, and now he’s going through all the troubles that came with one. At first, the ghost thrashed and trashed everything, confused and in pain and determined to hurt. Then, the ghost calmed and it starts making compromises to try and look for a way out. What he have now, Alastor muses as he plated your meal and ready his heart, is the melancholy of the ghost. When the grieving and the anger and the bargaining and the hurt passes on and left the shell behind, there’s only ever the emptiness lingering.

The stairs creaks under his shoes, shadows hanging around the corner and slowly melts back under Alastor as he walks by. One in particular waits on your door and chirps when he stepped towards it, seemingly in a good mood, its laughter akin to windchime as it reconnects itself to him. He ignores it and knock three times to give you time and hide away whatever it was you’re working on. The music kept on playing, a vulgar but joyous song burst through the door the instant he opens it, Alastor swallowed his disdain and step inside with a smile.

“Lovely tune, dear. Is it one of Rosie’s discs?” facing out the window, you sit at your desk, long void of the marks from your first tantrum. From here, he can see your index finger tapping gently to the beat, you must’ve memorized it. “Certainly interesting taste you both shared…but I’ll make sure to ask her for more.”

Living with the melancholy of the ghost means you know there’s something there, behind the peeling wallpaper and below the hollowed floorboards. You talk to it every day. You tell it about the dreams you abandoned on the sidewalk since you were a child in favor of carving out a path for yourself, you tell it about your day. You whispered words heavy with affection in the morning and practice your apology to it in the night. You do all of it, knowing it doesn’t have the vocal cord to formulate words, knowing even if it does, it won’t talk to you anymore. But you have hope.

Akin to whispering into an empty seashell, he supposed, there’s always the sounds of the waves hiding deep inside, but there’s no voice. He should get you some seashells, maybe that can give you some joy.

“I figured you’d like something a bit more filling, so shrimp étouffée it is! I met sir Vox on the way to the grocer, and we have a rather pleasant chat. He mentioned some talkies I think you’d quite enjoy, too.” he laugh, standing behind you. Alastor catches the charcoal line on white paper, knitting together to create a familiar figure that he just can’t quite put together yet, more taken aback by the fact you haven’t bothered to cover it up at all. He divert his eyes and place the plate down, right by your left hand. “But you wouldn’t ever be in the mood for it, and it sounds far from my taste, so I turn down the offer to go with him.”

Living with a ghost means you see shadows in the corners of your eyes and hear your familiar home echoes a thousand scream at night, but living with its melancholy means plunging deep under the ocean floor and hearing nothing but the silent of the water. Where there’s supposed to be sound, there’s only the slight echoes of one, barely reaching your ears under the blue. You learn to embrace the silence and linger in its weightlessness.

His ears flickered twice when a sigh escaped your lips, barely audible under the belting of a jazz singer. Alastor let his right hand lingered by your shoulder, you shrink a bit under his touch, he doesn’t move.

“The Ficus died. I was hoping they last longer than the roses would, but you were right,” Leaning in just a bit closer, Alastor laugh, “I never really have a talent for cultivating plants, it seems.”

And then one day, you look back, and maybe you’ll finally see that there was no ghost. And you’re all alone in a house that used to be a home, with dirt under your fingernails and blood leaking under your door. And while you drag a corpse to its final resting place, you hear dogs barking and feel rows of sharp teeth bit into your arms, there’s a familiar clicking sound. When you look up, the world embraces you in a white and burning pain for a single tick of a second. And then you came back to life, just as new. In a new house, in a new world, you do it all over again, you go and look for the ghost.

But a ghost is see-through and rigid cold and it held onto regrets it can never fulfill with cold hands and misty eyes. You’re warm and tangible and alive under his hands even after everything but he’s not sure if you still have any regrets you haven’t given up on, other than meeting him. Having a ghost haunts him would’ve bring less heartache, too.

Ever since you came back into his life, you came back wrong. And every attempt to understand you, to bring back the old you, the you he adores, the you he longed for, only ever serves to buried that you six more feet under the ground. He hates to admit defeat, but he thinks you won’t ever be the same anymore.

“I’ll think I’ll get some Gardenia and Begonia tomorrow for the front porch, but you should keep some in here. It must be boring only seeing the same five things a day, love.” With that, he slinks back out the hallway. Taking a final look of you, he closed the door without a goodbye, he never felt well saying such a thing to you anymore. As Alastor walks back down to the kitchen, another song plays out from your room.

Like the rest of the plants Alastor inevitably rots but refusing to stop holding onto, you also rot. His dinner table is set for two, and one of them is for a corpse. For the rest of the night, like every night, he drowned out the sound from your room with a bottle of whiskey and the thought of a you he can barely recalled. Without knowing what he’s holding onto, Alastor came to an oddly hallowing realization that he might've never know you at all.

He hoped you won't know, but maybe that's why you let him see your sketchbook.

(if he’s a ghost, will you let him hold you again)

[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[pearonicas]

OTP questions

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop?

Sweet Pea, he shakes it when Veronica isn’t paying attention and soon she’ll grip onto his bicep telling him to stop.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?

Sweet Pea, he loves any kind of physical affection and he’ll take Veronica anywhere he wants. School? There’s always an empty classroom. The White Wrym? He has a key to the back room. He loves sex.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Veronica, she lights candles and drops a bathbomb in the bath and relaxes on top of his chest. She has to slap his wandering hands away since he’s always trying something.

4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?

Veronica, she’ll proudly walk around the small trailer with the sun shining through the window onto her naked body. Sweet Pea usually stuffs her into one of his t-shirts jealous and hoping his neighbors didn’t see.

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

Sweet Pea, in worst cases he’ll end up going and staying at Fang’s place.

6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

Veronica, she thinks Sweet Pea looks most peaceful when he’s asleep.

7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

Veronica said I love you first, Sweet Pea is the one who uses it during arguments.

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

Veronica, she loves wearing his clothes especially to lounge around in and to sleep in.

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?

Sweet Pea, he’ll wake her up to tell her all about his dream, Veronica is the one who has the most nightmares. Sweet Pea rarely sings, but he will just for her.

10) Who is more likely to cheat?

Sweet Pea, he’s a flirt and always going to serpent parties or on serpent runs it’s more likely for him to cave.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

Veronica, she teases him all the time about the crush he had on her when they first met. Sweet Pea’s only defense is that he’s the one who asked her out and that they are dating already.

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Sweet Pea, it always starts with him covering his hand in flour and smacking her ass.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Veronica, especially during long drives she’ll crank up the radio and start singer. She’s also the better singer.

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

Sweet Pea, he’s a sucker for affection and he’ll do anything to touch Veronica. Grabbing her butt, holding her hand, grabbing at her waist ect.

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist?

Sweet Pea, he likes making sure it’s known Veronica is his.

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed?

Sweet Pea, especially when he’s drunk, Veronica is a screamer especially with how well endowed Sweet Pea is.

17) Who is more protective?

Sweet Pea, he’s the jealous type and makes sure everyone knows Veronica is his.

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

Sweet Pea, Veronica always falls asleep first, so he’ll stay up stroking her hair and talking quietly.

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

Sweet Pea drives, and Veronica would rather relax and look out the window.

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

Veronica, she always falls asleep cuddled up to Sweet Pea and he’ll always carry her around since she’s so light.

21) Who cuts the others hair?

Veronica, she’ll trim Sweet Pea’s hair when it starts getting too long.

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

Neither are bad at sexting, but Veronica tends to send more encouraging messages to Pea during the day.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

Sweet Pea, he always feels he’s never good enough for Veronica and that she could do better. He’s afraid of losing her and that he messes up with everything. She always reassures him she’s not going anywhere and that she loves him.

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them?

Sweet Pea, usually if they’re making breakfast he’ll hold her hips and softly sway back and forth with her and lift her up to kiss her since even on her tip toes, because she’s so short.

25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush?

Sweet Pea, he loves making Veronica get flustered or embarrassed and hearing her giggle always puts a smile on his face.

26) Who kissed first?

Sweet Pea.

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark?

Sweet Pea will order Pop’s whenever he feels hungry even at 2 am. Veronica will wake him up to go get water with her because his trailer is ‘scary’ at night.

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them?

Sweet Pea, deep down he’s a hopeless romantic and he’ll write and do a bunch of sweet things for him. If she’s lucky he will sing for her.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Sweet Pea, he always gets himself hurt and Veronica has the emergency room on speed dial.

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

Veronica, she hates her reading glasses, but Pea loves how cute she looks while she wears them.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

20 Questions

My Lord, I am rusty at this … been too long without words …

Not part of the Life series … but just something to get me writing again …

**hugs to all**

&&&&&&&&&

&&&&&&&&&

Six beers apiece, three frozen pizzas, a gallon of ice tea, a knockdown, drag-out argument complete with yelling, swearing, file throwing and roughly 12 hours later …

Snow.

Piled up to the top of the parking meter; deep, heavy, wet, sloppy, icing over snow.

All viewed by a sleepy, blinking Scully who had the minor deluded idea of getting home that night but then a draft wafted over her stocking feet and any idea of leaving evaporated in a heartbeat. Turning around, she debated going in to tell him she was staying but clock glowing 1:43am made her stay quiet and think about going back to sleep.

Problem was, she had been off the buttery, broken in couch just a hair too long and now the leather was frigidly cold, seeping immediately into her soul and making her stand before she fully understood she’d been sitting. Muttering a ‘damn it’, she grabbed an afghan, wrapped it tight and wondered where the thermostat was.

Oddly, it wasn’t in the living room, kitchen or hall, so she headed, sock-shuffle-slide, into the bedroom. It was dark in there, warmer than the living room and without the drafts. She debated whether to wake him up to kick him out of the large bed but given she was a semi-decent person, regardless of freezing status, she finally found the thermostat on the wall beside the door. Touching a button lit the panel up and the voice from the dark made her jump, “you cold?”

Keeping the whisper status of the two-word conversation, “I won’t be once I crank this bad boy up to 80.”

“Won’t help. It never gets above 70 with that thing, regardless of what I set it at.”

Turning towards the voice, her face still bathed in electric blue, profile perfection, mouth half-twisted in shivering debate, “then you either need to move over so I can share or help me dig out my car from the snowpocalypse that occurred after we fell asleep.”

With a ‘pshhht, no way in Hell’ noise, “I am not moving from under these covers so go grab the rest of the blankets off the couch and get in here but so help me God, those feet touch me and I’ll shove you right back out.”

“I love you, too, Mulder.” She went and gathered her armful then crawling under upheld covers, complained in a hissing breath, “it’s just as fucking cold here as the couch was.”

“Jack Frost has made you mouthy.”

Quaking as she spread the blankets over the pair of them, mostly her, well, all over her really because he was already warm and whatever, she couldn’t feel anything below elbows and knees, “two feet of snow, Mulder, while we slept. While you let me sleep. While you went to bed and left me to ice over out there in the living room.”

“In all seriousness, If I had woken you up, you’d have bitten me.”

Her embarrassment nearly warmed her cheeks but not quite, “that’s a very good point, although it would have been very nice to be wearing my pajamas instead of jeans.”

Searching the dark, he poked her cheek, “cranky pants, go to sleep.”

Not warming yet but decidedly on the better side of frozen solid, she moved her foot until it found his leg, “I’m not cranky.”

“Remember I said I’d kick you out of bed if you touched me.”

Turning on her side, facing away, she grinned into the pillow as her muscles unclenched, “like you’d ever kick me out of anything.”

“Very true.” Debating for a moment, “do you want some pajamas?”

“I’ll get them if I need them.”

&&&&&&&&&

“Mulder?”

“Go to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can. Shut your eyes and stop thinking.”

To relieve her aching shoulder, she rolled to her back, keeping everything from the bottom of her nose down well under the covers, “we should play ’20 questions’.”

“I’m sleeping, Scully.”

“Your voice tells me otherwise. I can also deduce that you are very nearly as wide awake as I am.”

Mulder, awake mostly because she was within two feet of him, dipping his mattress and driving him mad with that warm Scully smell that wouldn’t stop invading his nose, his brain, his entire God-damned existence, gave in because … well … Scully ..., “animal, vegetable or mineral?”

Next she traveled to her other side, facing him, for the sole purpose of being able to pull the covers over her head as well, warming ears and crown without suffocating in the luxury, “mineral.”

“Of course science-girl picks mineral.”

Wiggling one last time to get properly settled in her concave cocoon, “I’ll give you a hint. It’s clear.”

“Water.”

Hand across sheets for a brief moment, she tweaked his nose, “you’re cold. Get further under and no, it’s not water.”

He buried his head to mirror her, flipping to look at her, “tell me if I reek of beer and garlic, please.”

Because she was his friend and had been for the better part of 200 years, she sniffed and approved, “you’re good.”

“Go me. Anyways, is it shiny?”

“After it’s polished.”

“Is it colored?”

“I just said it was clear.”

“Hey, detail-oriented individuals such as myself know that something can be colored and clear at the same time. See through anyways. I can see the world through a pair of rose-colored glasses or some shit like that.”

This time, she waited until he’d tucked the fringe from one of the wayward afghans away from her forehead, “touche, Mr. Mulder. It is both clear and uncolored.”

He could get to like this nonsense at 3am, “is it rare or common?”

“Common for certain occasions but rare in relation to grains of sand on Earth or stars in the heavens.” He stared at her for so long after this, she began to wonder if he’d frozen solid or died on the spot, eyes still open and studying, “what? Already run out of questions?”

Game forgotten and unmissed, “I love when that poet trapped inside you gets to come out and see the world, even if just for a few moments at a time.”

“It’s not poetry, Mulder, it’s just a description to the question you asked.”

Darkness softened the walls between them faster than any alcohol could, “don’t be flippant about it. Poetry is beautiful and so are you and when you say things like that, I’m surprised I can still remember that we probably shouldn’t be sharing a bed.”

Her previous blush had nothing on this one, toes suddenly on fire, but she held his gaze, “I don’t want to go back to the couch though.”

“Then I should tell you your mineral is diamond and that we should try to go back to sleep.”

“But then you’ll win the game.”

The things he shouldn’t say this late at night were alphabetized, categorized and easily accessible to his lightning fast mind but who really gave a shit when they were snowed in bed with no hope of anyone but Scully’s God and possibly three or four dust bunnies hearing him, “I won it a long time ago, Scully, you ought to know that by now.”

One foot drifted absently over to him, finding a flannel covered kneecap, “we were having a nice, innocent game of ’20 questions’, Mulder, remember that?”

“Not really and you know why?”

She wasn’t stupid, not in the slightest bit, and wondering if she could blame the following confessional already bubbling up her throat on the liquor she’d consumed seven hours ago, “because we’ve never done anything innocent in our lives when the lights are out and we have nowhere to go and no one is listening?”

“Because tonight you are a poet and I huddle at your feet in awe that you didn’t try to escape when you had the chance.”

“Like the choice ever occurred to me.” Her fingers, having shifted of their own accord, met his jaw, playing with the underside of stubbly chin, “we have a problem with the dark, you and I.”

“Not when we’re together in it, we don’t. In fact, it’s one of my favorite places to be with you.”

She watched him not-so subtly sliding towards her and instinct beat sense to fucking dust as she let him, “why?

He stopped a good six inches from her, bunches of blankets impeding his travels and she was glad to have the barrier, given her resistance had dialed down to nil, “because you are poetry in the dark.”

Shifting blankets out of the way, she sidled closer, closer, closer until she felt his arm slide over her back, “but you can’t see me in the dark.”

His hands itched to feel more, to know more but instead, he relaxed into her, “the feel of you is enough.”

“Sometimes I don’t think it is.” She let that hang over them, weighted world above, blankets around, heat between, “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make me leave this bed anytime soon, okay?”

He would have laughed had it not been such a serious question, requiring a well thought out, well-versed response, “if I could manage it, neither of us ever would.”

Her warm hands found his back, under his shirt, dipped in his spine, “I retract my statement … our problem isn’t the dark … our problem is thoughts in the dark.”

“Are your thoughts becoming a problem?”

Shivering despite the overwhelming warmth of her around him around her, “thoughts are always a problem.”

Hands under her shirt, finding the clasp on her bra and unfastening, “how the hell can you sleep in that thing?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think about it I guess.”

With a grin, he kissed her forehead, “exactly.”

The universe breathed deep with Scully shaking her head and shifting all the way under the covers, head and all, “back in a second.” There was some wicked wiggling and two grunts and one elbow in Mulder’s stomach but before he could smile again, she was back, whipping the bra across the room, “I hate that thing.”

“So do I.” The look he got did things, “now I can sleep in peace.”

“Have we moved on from poetry in the dark?”

Snuggling back into him, “I will not be held responsible for the compromising position we will find ourselves in in the morning as well as the compromising positions we go through to get there. Poetry in the dark writes itself sometimes without our knowing and I’m not going to fight it because in the morning, the curtains will still be closed and this room will still be dark and we will not have a damn thing to do or a damn place to go.”

“Why didn’t you take your shirt off along with the bra?”

“Because I’m suddenly very comfortable and a little bit tired.”

“You are very dangerous in the dark, Scully.”

“I’ll be more dangerous after I’ve had a nap.”

Letting his hands drift further down than normal, “do you remember who won the argument last night?”

“The dark doesn’t care, Mulder and neither do I.”

[cnhonestcn]

Guide to choosing the right kettles for your food service:

Today healthcare operations advance more flavorful and nutritional menu options with more benefits, so steam jacketed kettles play an important role in every service station. Stews, broths, soups, and sauce are made to maximize freshness, and nutrients are ideal for steam-jacketed kettles. A number of operations make these menu items in stockpots over a hot burner or open flame, but without any constant temperature and stirring, these items can boil over or scorch. Steam kettles will hold the food temperature correctly within a range of little degrees of the set temperature. Inside, the kettle stream gives more heat to the cooker by adjusting the steam pressure, or the temperature rises high or falls to the setting. Steam kettles will eliminate all the hot spots found at the down of stockpots and give much more heat distribution by transferring heat to all sides of the products. Here are some lists of guides to choosing the right kettles for your foodservice.

Select the size you need:

The steam jacketed cooker comes in a different range of capacities from lesser than a gallon upward of 200 to 210 gal or more. While the floor model kettles generally begin with 20 gals. When choosing the size, think about which menu items you plan to cook in the cooker. If you serve like 2000 portions a day, you will need at least a 60 gal. One of the benefits of using a steam kettle is that you can make your everyday batch of soup at one time. This helps not eliminate the need to make batch after in stockpots on the range it saves on labor and reduces the chance of any issues when carrying or moving stockpots. It also offers a consistency of flavor that is hard to get when making the number of batches in small volumes.

Power of kettles:

The steam kettles get their steam in one of three are direct steam or gas, or electricity. The latter needs a connection to your facility boiler. The water turns to steam at 212f, so that temperature at which arrives in kettles jacket adjusting this has its pressure it up to the cooking temperature you want. While this has its benefits, one maker cautions that if your boiler goes bottom, so do your kettles. Choosing between the electric steams jacketed pot and gas system basically depends on which utility is cheaper in your area. Most manufacturers point out the models are most often electric powered and, because they don’t need any gas station, can be moved to any locations when necessary. Gas systems mostly live in large floor models that will stay in one place in their entire lifetime.

Controlling temperature:

Since the steam jacketed kettle has been here for many decades ago temperature controls mainly consisted of a dial with a numeric scale of one to 10 or broad categories of simmer, warm, and boil. All will regulate the pressure of steam in the jacket, which increases or lowers the temperature. In recent times some makers have begun to offer temperature to specific controls. The digital readouts will show or display the temperature of the food in the kettle. Some will control program the cooking time and temperature for each product that presets let your worker make these products consistently each period.

Tilting is a must:

The tilt kettles slant in different ways to pour out the contents, and some power-assisted tilting while other use manual handles or cranks you pull to bring the lip bottom. Always consider what works best for your staff in their strength and height.

Bottom line:

Finally, choose the kettles that offer more productivity to your kitchen. Also, these can be an excellent addition to any sized commercial food station. These are the above-explained details of a guide to choosing the right kettles for your food service.

[lindafrancois]

3 HIIT Workouts for Beginners: Start Interval Training and Sprint Running!

This High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT) guide is probably the best interval training guide in the galaxy.

My justification for such a bold claim?

We’re really good at this stuff, AND we have dinosaurs and Muppets.

Plus, lots of great gifs:

We build custom interval training programs just like the ones in this guide for our 1-on-1 Online Coaching Clients, including workouts for at home, the gym, or even while traveling.

Want a HIIT workout program you’ll actually enjoy? Learn more:

In this Ultimate Guide to Interval Training, we’ll cover:

What is interval training? What is HIIT?

What are the benefits of HIIT? Why should you do interval training?

What’s an example of interval training? How to do interval running.

How do HIIT workouts work?

What are the best HIIT exercises?

Is HIIT good for losing weight?

Getting started with interval training.

Mistakes to avoid when doing HIIT.

HIIT timer recommendations.

Our interval training workout recommendation.

If you’re interested in starting a HIIT practice (which you are, ’cause you’re here), you may want to try our new app! It contains a fun adventure that will take you from sitting on your couch to a full HIIT workout – with plenty of benchmarks in between for you to find your groove. No guesswork needed, just jump into the app and follow it’s next steps.

You can sign-up for a free trial right here:

What is Interval Training? What is HIIT?

In 2018, High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT) was ranked the number one fitness trend by American College of Sports Medicine.[1]

Essentially, HIIT is just following a specific regimen where you vary your speeds and intensity throughout a shorter run, swim, bike, or row.

Any exercise can be a form of HIIT, but here’s a common routine:

Jogging lightly for three minutes.

Pushing yourself harder for a minute (run or sprint).

Repeating this cycle 4 more times.

Because everybody is busy and overwhelmed, fast results in the least amount of time is why most people discover HIIT. 

You may be asking, “Steve, just how short and intense are we talking about here? Also, your new haircut looks spiffy.”

Thank you, you’re very kind.

So let’s explore the pros and cons of intervals.

What are the Benefits of HIIT? Why Should You Do Interval Training?

The 1996 landmark Tabata study demonstrated the benefits of extreme HIIT.[2]

Dr. Izumi Tabata, from Japan’s National Institute of Fitness and Sports, was obsessed with interval training.

The doctor sought to see exactly what kind of gains were obtained from short, intense, periods of exercise. He conducted an experiment with Olympic athletes on stationary bikes and put them through intense bouts of exercise followed by short periods of rest.

The results were fascinating.

Compared to regular cardio, HIIT had a greater impact on improving BOTH:

Aerobic increases (endurance).

Anaerobic increases (power).

Even crazier? Tabata was able to demonstrate improvements in his athletes with just four minute bursts.

So what’s happening here?

Simple: your heart is a muscle.

If you keep your heart beating at a constant rate, never expanding it outside of its comfort zone, it will never grow stronger.

By introducing chaos and pushing your muscles outside of their comfort zone, they must adapt and grow more resilient in order to survive.

Intense interval training challenges your heart by constantly forcing it outside of its comfort zone.

In other words: progressive overload – the same concept behind building strength.

Since Tabata’s 1996 study, many other trials have shown the positive impact of interval training. 

Here are some of the benefits of High-Intensity Interval Training:

#1) HIIT for Weight loss. A study in the Journal of Obesity found participants were able to lose more body fat following a HIIT program compared to regular cardio.[3]

This makes sense, because other studies suggest high-intensity interval training burns more calories than a “steady state” workout.[4]

Revving up your effort requires more out of you, including calories. If you’re interested in HIIT for weight loss, you might be on the right track.

Plus, interval training can take less time than steady-state cardio.

The average interval training workout is 20 minutes or less.

However, I should note that a meta-study (a review of multiple studies) found no real difference in fat loss between HIIT and steady-state cardio.[5] We’ll talk about this, and the impact of diet for weight loss later. 

#2) HIIT for lowering blood sugar. Managing blood sugar is really important for health, not just for diabetics.

Those trying to lose fat should be aware of their blood sugar and corresponding insulin levels.

The good news for our current discussion? HIIT has been shown to help lower and manage blood sugar levels.[6]

#3) HIIT for heart health. Touching on the “antifragile” topic again, HIIT has been shown to help with overall cardiovascular health.

It does so in the same way traditional endurance training does, but at a fraction of the time (almost half).[7]

Now, before you accuse me of being a shill for Big HIIT, I will mention that many of the comments that “HIIT is the secret to fat loss” are overblown.[8]We’ll touch on more of that later.

For now, let’s chat about how to actually do some interval training.

What’s an example of Interval Training? How to do interval running

The key to HIIT is being able to go from “easy” to “difficult.” All sorts of different exercises can get you there:

Aerobic (cardio).

Bodyweight (strength training).

Resistance (weight training).

HIIT is generally associated with running (aerobic), so we’ll devote this section to just that.

The easiest way to experiment with HIIT would be to run.

Here’s how to start with a basic HIIT running workout. Go to a park in your neighborhood. Warm-up with some light jogging, high knees, and mobility – leg swings, arm swings, etc,

And then begin your workout!

Run/jog at a brisk pace for 30 seconds.

Jog/walk at a slower pace for 2 minutes.

After your rest, shoot for another 30-second run/jog.

Continue until you get tired or after about ten “push/rest” intervals.

And BAM! You just did HIIT.

Don’t get disheartened if you find yourself stopping a lot during your first week of HIIT training. 

You’ll be surprised how quickly you get better at this!

Also, “running” or “jogging” is subjective. Whatever walking fast means to you is great. Do that for your periods of intensity.

It should be noted, that the entire “Couch to 5K” concept rests on interval training through running.

It’s all broken down into “walking,” “jogging” and “running.”

If you’re curious, check out our in-depth Couch to 5k review. If you want to start interval training, “Couch to 5K” could be a good way to do it.

More of an indoor person?

Consider a treadmill, where it actually sets intervals for you based on your desired difficulty.

Just be careful on it…

We’ll be talking about machines a lot more in the next section, but a treadmill is all you need to do a HIIT workout.

Experiment with the speed and incline to find a setting that you would consider “intense.” Many machines can be programmed to flip between this and an “easy” setting.

And you know what that means… boom! It’s built for HIIT.

When we designed NF Journey (our awesome new app), we used an “intense” and “easy” interval switch for most of the workouts.

If you want, you can sign-up for a free trial right here to see what I mean:

How do HIIT Workouts Work? (More HIIT cardio to choose from)

There are a lot of different aerobic exercises for HIIT cardio.

For example, you could jump on a bike, which is like HIIT running but with wheels (duh):

Every spin class is based on HIIT cycling (SoulCycle, Flywheel, or even your local gym now has spin classes).

They’re popular for a reason, and you can make a friend or two!

Here are some more examples of interval training:

Elliptical. If it has a dial for resistance, it can be used for interval training. For a couple of minutes, go on low resistance (0-2 level). Then crank up the resistance for one minute (up to 8-10). Repeat this process 12 times, which will give you a 20-minute workout.

Stair Climber. Much like the elliptical, alternate between periods of low intensity for two minutes, then one minute for high intensity. The difference with the climber is the dial will control the speed of the stairs. Be careful.

Rowing machine. Start with a two-minute warm-up. On minute three, row like you’re being chased by the Kraken for a full 60 seconds. Then catch your breath. The rowing machine might be hard to do for a full 20 minutes, since it’s a lot of upper body. Shoot for ten minutes at first.

Jumping rope. Jumping rope is a full-body exercise. Also, it’s fun. There’s no dial here, your own body controls the pace of the jump. Follow the same two minute easy, one minute intense as above. Jump rope can also be done with friends!

So far we’ve just been talking about aerobic exercises.

Let’s cover our other categories, of bodyweight and resistance.

What Are the Best HIIT Exercises? (Two Other Forms of Interval Training)

“Steve, this all sounds great. But I hate running!”

Confession: So do I.

So I get my cardio in other forms!

Here are some bodyweight exercises to get going on HIIT:

Burpees. Stand up, then squat down, kick your legs out, do a push-up, bring your legs back in, and explode up into a jump. Try to do 20 repetitions, then rest for two minutes. Repeat until you hate yourself:

Push-ups. For 20 seconds, do as many push-ups as possible. Rest. Then do it again. If you’re worried about proper form, check out our push-up guide and watch this:

Pull-ups. Same idea as above, do pull-ups for 20 seconds, then rest. If you can’t do a pull-up, we got you covered in our pull-up progression guide:

Let’s now chat about some Weight Training Examples for HIIT:

Kettlebell swing. For ten minutes, do 20 kettlebell swings on every minute.

This will be intense, and worthy of congratulations when you’re done. Check out our 20 Minute Beginner Kettlebell Workout for everything you’ve ever wanted to know about kettlebells.

Battle ropes. If your gym has battle ropes, they’ll be a great tool for HIIT. For intensity, the amount of slack in the rope determines the load. The more slack on the rope the tougher, and more intense, the workout. Also, don’t get stuck in just up and down movements. Some variation will help target different muscles.

Weight lifting. The critical piece will be moving from one exercise to another quickly enough. For example, hustling from the bench press to the lat bar: we call this circuit training!

Yes, you can also do circuit training as a form of HIIT.

Circuit training is going through a sequence of exercises, or stations, back to back.

Push-ups to pull-ups, back to push-ups, only resting briefly from one exercise to another.

Circuit training would be perfect to mix into a HIIT workout, since you can design your circuit to be very intense.

Check out our post for 15 Circuit Training Routines to choose from.

Plus, there’s a Batman workout hidden in there. You’re welcome.

We create custom HIIT programs for busy people like you that are ACTUALLY fun. If you’re looking for a supportive coach to guide you and tell you exactly what to do each day, we got you covered!

Exercise doesn’t have to suck. Learn more about our coaching program!

If you just want a beginner circuit to get started with, you can try out our Beginner Bodyweight Workout Routine. Plus you can download a free worksheet to track your progress with this circuit when you join the Rebellion below:

Grab Your Beginner Bodyweight Routine Worksheet. No Gym Required!

Complete this workout at home, no equipment required

Avoid the common mistakes everybody makes when doing bodyweight exercises

Learn how to finally get your first pull-up

Oh, what’s that? You want to have even MORE fun while getting the benefits of HIIT? 

Sure. let’s think outside the box:

Basketball, tennis, soccer, and Ultimate (frisbee) are AMAZING styles of exercise that use interval training (it’s all start and stop!).

Run here, catch this, and wait for the next round to start.

That’s what we’re looking for in a HIIT workout.

So pick a form of FUN exercise that gets your heart racing faster and slower throughout the activity (yes, I suppose even THAT activity would count).

Is HIIT Good for Losing Weight? Is Interval Training Good for Losing Weight?

My guess is that you’re reading this article because you’re trying to get the most efficient “bang for your buck” when it comes to getting in shape.

And HIIT is a great form of exercise and COULD help with weight loss.

I will, however, lower some of these outlandish claims that exist in the media.

For example, Time magazine calls HIIT “miraculous” in one article.[9]

That’s a little much, even for me, who writes for a living on why you should work out and likes using hyperbole for effect.

Seriously, I’m better at it than ANYBODY ON THE PLANET.

Ahem.

Cardio, strength training, and HIIT all have many benefits.

HIIT deserves praise, but exercise, in general, deserves praise. As we discussed in our “Cardio vs HIIT vs Weights” post, all three forms of training have their place, and the best one for you is the one you actually do.

And strength training. Always strength training.

So to answer your question, is HIIT the secret and only weapon for weight loss?

Nah, it’s just great exercise.

And exercise is important.

But if you want to lose body fat, how you eat will be responsible for 80% of your success or failure.

This means that I don’t care how many intervals you do, it’s not gonna help you lose weight if you don’t also fix your nutrition.

You can read our Beginner’s Guide to Nutrition if you want more information.

And if you want to download our free 10-level Nutrition Guide to help you fix your diet starting today, you can do so by signing up in the box below:

Download our free weight loss guide

THE NERD FITNESS DIET: 10 Levels to Change Your Life

Follow our 10-level nutrition system at your own pace

What you need to know about weight loss and healthy eating

3 Simple rules we follow every day to stay on target

Getting Started with Interval Training

When it’s time to advance your high-intensity interval training, think about the following:

Frequency. This would be the number of intervals in your workout.

Intensity. How hard are you going in each interval?

Time. How long are your intervals and rest periods?

Maybe you start out doing 3 intervals of intense running.

Once it becomes routine, bring it up to 4.

Maybe you crank the resistance on your stationary bike to “8” during your intense interval. When it becomes normal, bring it up to “10.”

Maybe you do pull-ups for 20 seconds. When you’ve got a good handle on that, aim for 30 seconds.

This mindset will keep you advancing in interval training.

Consistency is the name of the game here. Even just doing a HIIT workout once a week will help you progress in all three categories.

Want a program that adapts to your progress each month? Learn more:

Mistakes to Avoid When Doing High-Intensity Interval Training

There’s a lot to consider when embarking on a HIIT practice.

No matter which routine you end up starting with, make sure you follow these words of wisdom:

Ease into it. As the saying goes, “you must walk before you can run.” The importance is building a HIIT practice. If you need to go “less intense” before progressing to “intense,” that’s fine. It’ll help build your aerobic capabilities (endurance), which will be important when working on intensity. Start with walking.

Keep proper form. Doing your movements correctly will help prevent injury. Here’s how to run properly. This is even more critical in your later intervals, where you may be exhausted and tired. If you find yourself breaking form, go ahead and slow down. Intense isn’t worth an injury.

Get rest. Our bodies actually build muscle while we are resting. So take some “off days” from your HIIT practice. Want to stay active on these days? Do some fun exercise!

Take it easy, focus on your form, and make sure to prioritize rest.

HIIT Timer Recommendations

HIIT centers on doing intervals.

One moment it’s intense, the next you’re onto a short rest break.

A good way to know when it’s time to go from one sequence to the next is a timer. A loud “beep” can tell you when it’s okay to catch your breath or when you have to kick it in gear.

Here are 5 HIIT timers you can try out:

Runtastic. Don’t let the name fool you, this free app is for more than just running. You can customize for many different interval workouts, depending on what exercise you go with. And the interface looks slick.

Seconds. It’s free and customizable to any form of HIIT. It can also integrate with your music, which is pretty sweet.

Seven. If you’re new to HIIT, Seven would be a good app for you. It’s free, plus it has illustrations for exercises. You also get to customize your own virtual personal trainer, which may be the future of fitness. The bots are coming…

Sworkit. First off, it’s a clever name (taken from “Simply Work It.”) Second, it’s free. Third, it can display your workout, goals, and calories burned. I like it.

J&J Official Seven Minute Workout. This free app from Johnson & Johnson is actually really awesome. It has premade workouts you can choose form based on your fitness level, or tweak them to make it your own.

Also, we need to talk about interval timers. Most of the apps referenced are completely customizable.

For example, you can change the intense interval from 120 seconds to 90 seconds.

This is critical because it’s up to you to decide how long you can do intense vs. rest.

Generally, folks recommend one minute of intensity and then two for rest when doing HIIT.

However, this all depends on the individual, and exercises performed.

For example, burpees are tougher to do than jumping over a rope:

So feel free to make changes like 30 seconds of intensity and three minutes of rest. Make it your own.

Whatever way you chose to do HIIT, is fine, as long as you actually do it. The benefits of HIIT kick in when going HARD for you.

In other words, you don’t have to be an Olympic athlete to get the benefits of HIIT.[10]

A light jog totally works. Just don’t do it in a mascot costume.

As we discussed, if you’re consistent, you’ll improve.

So don’t stress about where you have to start.

For now, download an app and get going. Ours will help you train with HIIT too:

I hate multiple choice. Pick a HIIT workout for me!

Let’s power walk as our form of HIIT. 

This is an example of a beginner HIIT workout we might prescribe for our Coaching Clients who are starting to train for their first 5K.

Let’s do seven intervals, two minutes each:

Warm-up. For three minutes, walk at an easy pace.

Intervals. For the first 60 seconds, power walk, like you’re trying to beat someone to the front of the line at Starbucks.

For the next 60 seconds, just walk.

Repeat six more times.

Cool down. You can do some more light walking, or a little bit of stretching here would be great.

Total time: 20 minutes.

I want to stress, that you can do just about any exercise in exchange for this routine. Just minus “power walk” and add “push-ups and bodyweight squats”

It’ll still be a great HIIT workout.

“But Steve, that’s still multiple choice!”

Right, right… sorry. Stick to power walking! Done!

How to Start Interval Training now

Do our power walking routine above. It’s a great place to start.

Remember, our goal at this stage is to “build the habit.”

We can work on “whoa, that was intense” later.

If you’re looking for EVEN MORE stuff to do, we have a few options for ya:

1) Check out our popular 1-on-1 coaching program. You’ll work with our certified NF instructors who will get to know you better than you know yourself and program your workouts and nutrition for you.

Our coaching program kicks ass. Let us help you reach your goals!

2) Exercising at home and need a plan to follow? Check out Nerd Fitness Journey!

Our fun habit-building app helps you exercise more frequently, eat healthier, and level up your life (literally).

Try your free trial right here:

3) Enlist in the Rebellion! We need good people like you in our community, the Nerd Fitness Rebellion. 

Sign up in the box below to enlist and get our guide, Strength Training 101: Everything You Need to Know. It’ll help you start incorporating interval training into your workouts.

Download our comprehensive guide STRENGTH TRAINING 101!

Everything you need to know about getting strong.

Workout routines for bodyweight AND weight training.

How to find the right gym and train properly in one.

There are a zillion ways to do HIIT, so don’t let the options paralyze you.

Pick one. Anyone. And get to it.

Interval training, in any form, is a solid fitness choice and a great practice to have in the workout arsenal.

Any questions?

Which HIIT workout style is your favorite?

Leave it in the comments below!

-Steve

PS: Make sure you check out the rest of our content on interval training:

The HIIT Workout for Home

How to Do Tabata Sprints

Should You Do Couch to 5K?

###

All photo credits can be found in this footnote.[11]

  Footnotes    ( returns to text)

Check out that article from ACSP here.

Read Tabata’s original study here.

Read that study from the Journal of Obesity here.

Read that study on HIIT and calories burned here.

Check out that meta-study right here.

Check out the one such study on HIIT and insulin resistance here. Another can be read right here.

Check out the comparison of HIIT and regular cardio on heart health here.

Read, “The Metabolic Costs of Reciprocal Supersets vs. Traditional Resistance Exercise in Young Recreationally Active Adults.” Source, PubMed.

Said article.

This study demonstrated the benefits of HIIT on ‘recreational active’ participates, showing that the Tabata principles work on regular folks too, not just Olympic athletes.

Photo: Biking on a Rail, Countryside Ride, Plundering in Koln, Marina Pissarova © 123RF.com, Brian Jackson © 123RF.com, Ivan Smuk © 123RF.com, Mermaid, Stranded, Troll, Stopwatch, Trooper, Jump

3 HIIT Workouts for Beginners: Start Interval Training and Sprint Running! published first on https://dietariouspage.tumblr.com/

[localocksmithnearme]

Acura ILX Fob Keys And Remote Program San Antonio TX

San Antonio Key Replacement indulges 24 hours Acura ILX lock-man services in San Antonio TX. Our man-power are expertise wholly on emergency vehicle ignition, lock and key service such as high security key cutting and duplicate key-fob and more! Whether you want to make a brand new car key or wish to duplicate a switch blade key, San Antonio Key Replacement are here for you completely decked with phenomenal key programmer, lock pick and diagnostic tools ready rekey or change and settle any Acura ILX keylock infrastructure malfunction at your location.

Acura ILX replacement keys in San Antonio TX

If you lost all your vehicle keys or broken your key in the ignition key crack, you have a few possibilities to get a brand new set of Acura ILX key replacement:

Driving to the San Antonio TX provincial dealer is in many cases possibly a affordable or immediate option to forge a newish key by the VIN, but in several episodes (like GM) the dealer want you to show a legitimate car title or registration with an equal address on the owner photo ID. In several other conditions, the dealer-ship have no access to decrepit key codes by the VIN (like Mazda, Ford and Lincoln), the dealer can form outplacement keys just for versions from the last ten years.

Besides the constraints above, in numerous occurrences, your car is locked on the road in a boondocks area, with a broken key in the ignition or locked with the key in the truck and to favor the dealership will consist of about extra hundred dollars for the towing truck service.

About Acura ILX key lock technology

Acura is a Japanese multi-country manufacturer of cars based in Minato, Japan Constructed in 1986 by making luxury cars.

Acura started utilizing  transponder keys in 1996. A few outdated models keys could be easily duplicated utilizing control panel procedure, nevertheless with most recent cars the radio frequency message is ciphered and an exclusive diagnostic tools is required.

Contemporary cars (since 2007) employs the Keyless Access System as keyless device and push start electric ignition infrastructure.

Ignition repair

When the car doesn't start up, there might be oodles of problems which could be the reason. Since the fuel pump infrastructure and car battery are coupled with the ignition cylinder, the problem might be wearisome to investigate by an incompetent hands, but here are several typical problems, which you may have to deal with.

</p> <h5>ignition key is hard to turn in the ignition</h5> <p> When the ignition key is stiffly turning, it could be for a few reasons: Frequently this happens when the steering  is locked by the ignition switch with the motor vehicle front wheels shift to the side (usually when you park up a hill) or if one of the front wheels is depressed against an obstacle (e.g. curb stone). In this situation, try shifting the locked steering wheel to the sides right and left altogether with gently shake right and left the ignition  key - this might help in releasing the steering lock.

</p> <h5>Dead battery</h5> <p> Another common reason why your ignition switch might go bad is a failure of the car power supply. An empty battery mey bay as a result of alternator failure or electronic wiring. When you have no lights on the dashboard when you turn the key in the ignition, apparently you should call a car electrician.

The ignition switch is very important component of any car and containing manifold small units that might be wearisome to investigate by an incompetent hands, so the only thing an owner advised to do suffering from ignition lock  issues is to make sure you’re really trying to light up your very own vehicle and schedule with a car locksmith to arrive to your place of choice to replace, reprogram  rekey the ignition or key which will priced as approximately $155–$340.

Transponder key make

As a result of the increasing rates of car theft back 20 years ago, nearly every car models starting at close to 1995 adopt electrical keys and locks employing P.A.T, VATS or transponder key keys.

A transponder key bring extra safeness that the traditional car key cant. In addition to cutting the key, the chip into the key banner has to be recoded to sync in with the immobiliser in the car for your vehicle engine to burst.

Since cars are utilizing electrical lock and key, car stealing was almost averted, but backing up a stolen and lost key or even plainly copying a key prescribe de-coding of the immobilizer by a compatible programming machine owned by a locksmith or the dealership, and consequently evolved into being exceedingly costly.  

Acura ILX key-less entry

Push-to-start ignition system come with a remote fob that a car owner can keep in his purse, briefcase or pocket, or everywhere within the range of five ft to the receiver inside the car.

The smart key chip deliver a specific low-level RF indication message to the car main computer, which in turn confirms that the proper indication message has been sent and allows the owner to remotely open and close the car door locks as well as press a push buttons on the dash-board console to light up or deactivate the car without using a key or hitting a button on the fob.

Even though smartkeys and push-button start ignition turned to be widely usable, even on mid-level cars, these infrastructures haven't yet reached the status of  necessity as power windows and door locks, notwithstanding, the comfort factor is a the main issue for numerous smart-keys shoppers.

Copy vs lost car keys

After the mid to late 1990s, nearly all manufacturers of automobiles began to employ immobilizer and electric keys as an extra safety means in which a vehicle computer will recognize the transponder chip key when you go to crank the car. If the car doesn't recognize a compatible key, immobiliser disarm the fuel supply and the car will not run.

This platform behave as anti theft to prevent against lockpicking or hot wiring the car and relief drivers and insurance companies in wiping out vehicle theft world-wide, yet the costs of car keys rise to $50-$120 for a basic duplicate  key with a chip and seemingly leastways a $100 more if if you lost all your keys.

24hrs motor vehicle lock out

Did you left your keys inside your vehicle? Are you looking for a trusted and professional motor vehicle pop a lock service? San Antonio Key Replacement feather in no time motor vehicle lock out service standing by around the clock. Dialing our number (210)598-8120 will connect you with one of our dispatchers, he will ask about your year, model and make likewise your location and condition and send a key maker or a car lockout technician to your location equipped to the brim with suitable break in and entry hardware ready to put you back in your car rapidly

Motor vehicle locks modify

San Antonio Key Replacement is proud to dispense all style of Acura ILX refit services on premises to replace a ruptured, kidnapped or lost keys. Practically all modernized car are fitted with electric keylock infrastructure and the course vital to get your lock adjusted must include the legitimate coder for the exact vehicle. Instead of dragging your car to the dealer, just upraise the tele-phone and call our central office in San Antonio TX and one of our car alterating team will be with you as swiftly as possible with a locomotive work van including contemporary blank keys, ignition parts, programmers and key cutters ready to settle any sort of urgent experiences.

Lastly

We at San Antonio Key Replacement, are committed to meet our customers urgencies by an efficient local assistance to their motor vehicle keys and locks complications assuring rapid response time. Save effort, money and time towing your Jeep Wrangler to the dealer and schedule an appointment with our work force for a swift road side lock rekey, car lock-out, replacement keys or ignition repair on site 24 hours. . If you are searching for What is proximity key? San Antonio Key Replacement.

[victoriouscabaret]

Ovarian Torsion and My Big Weekend!

Under the cut for length

My weekend started off fairly normal: I met up with my uncle after work and picked up my cousin and the three of us went to see Flogging Molly, which was great cuz I’ve been wanting to see them since I was 15. Beers were had, catching up was done, it was good fun. 

After the show I cabbed it to my boyfriend’s place cuz it was his birthday and he said he was having a little get together there that I was more than welcome to join after the show wrapped up. So I did. I got to meet all of his super near and dear friends (the ones I didn’t know already) and we played Sociables, and I got drunk, and everyone else was drunk, and my fella was hammered, and many laughs were had and it was a great night. 

Crashed at his place and then got a lift home from my friend in the early afternoon. This was where things started getting weird: I felt a bit hungover when I woke up, but definitely not in a terrible state, all things considered. As we were driving back into downtown though, I got hit with the most uncomfortable gas pains. Like... it felt like I hadn’t passed gas or taken a shit in a week. I cringed my way home and then slinked up to my apartment, where I decided a bath might help with the increasingly worse pressure in my abdomen. 

Nope. 

I crawled out of the bathtub and onto the toilet and tried to go, and damn near threw up from the pain that was now wracking my lower left abdomen in sharp, jagged waves. I started hyperventilating, my left thigh and buttocks started quivering uncontrollably, and I knew something was horribly, horribly wrong. 

I staggered to my room and called my friend who had picked me up (we live in the same building) and told her I thought I needed to go to the hospital. She said she’d be right up, and I hastily stuffed myself back into my clothes, forgoing socks, underwear and a bra because my mind was focused only on: “Get out. You need to get out. You need to get to the hospital now.” 

She dropped me off at the urgent care centre which is thankfully only a few blocks away from here, and it didn’t take triage long to get me in: At this point I was in a secluded portion of the waiting room, unable to sit still, constantly dragging my hands through my hair, clutching my side, stamping my foot, and swearing as quietly as possible between the waves of pain that would elicit small screams from me as they peaked. 

They dumped me in an examination room, and the nurse told me to put the hospital gown on and then handed me a sample cup and asked if I could pee in it. 

“I... I don’t think I can,” I said, still doubled over. 

“Not even a squirt or two? It’s super important.” 

“I’ll try, but I went not too long ago,” I said. 

So I robed up, took the cup, stumbled to the bathroom and tried to force a couple drops of piss into this cup. No bueno. Meanwhile the pain is getting worse, and it’s taking everything in me not to collapse to the floor and start screaming. 

So that’s pretty much what I did after wrenching the gown back around myself and returning to my room. 

That nurse haaaated me, and in hindsight I feel really bad. At this point, the pain had started and continuously grown for a solid 45 minutes, and it was getting worse. I was still fairly low on the priority list, being the most recent admission, so it’s not like they were going to come rushing in with an IV and some morphine, but it was BAD. 

At this point, the pain was a continuous dull ebb centered right above my left hip bone and radiating through my core, down to my lower back, and down the nerves of my hip and femur... like through the bone almost. The waves which were increasing in frequency to roughly once or twice every minute for 10-20 second spans cranked the dial on the already existing ebb, and shot up my spine as well. I could not physically still myself: My entire body was cringing, curling in on itself, and spasming outward as I was battered with wave after wave of agony. Honestly. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but to lose all control over various muscle groups (buttocks and thighs specifically) and be completely unable to shift or move in a way to mitigate or favour the source of the pain was absolute hell. If the Cruciatus curse was a real thing - I was convinced I was living it, and I was reaching the human element of utter terror where I was desperate for it to end. Curling up on the floor and screaming for help seemed like the only thing to do. No one said it was a rational thing to do, but at that point, rationality was gone. I’ve heard about such pain existing, but I’d never experienced it, and I never want to again. 

Anyway, the nurse got sick of my shit and came in and told me to get off the floor and stop screaming, so I did, because I knew I was being terribly behaved and totally ridiculous, so I curled up on the bed and continued to moan and whimper into the cot for the next forty five minutes or so till the doctor came in. 

She asked if she could ask me some questions, I told her sure, then she realized how messed up I was and was like, “Ummm... let’s get you something for the pain first and I’ll come back in about fifteen minutes.” 

They eventually got me hooked up to a morphine drip, and I managed to find a semi-bearable position to lie in on my stomach with my right arm thrust out in front of me, gripping onto the handle of the cot as if I let go of it I might die. It took two doses of morphine before the doctor was able to come speak with me. After the first dose they asked where my pain was on a scale of 1-10 and I told them it was still a 9: The ebbing pain was dulled, but still there, and the waves were still next to unbearable. 

Once the doctor was able to examine me, she asked me some questions; from the beginning they suspected something reproductive in nature. I told her everything I could: My last period was a week ago, I take Alesse birth control and I’ve been on it for just over a month, but have taken it for years, I’ve never been pregnant, and have no history of endo, and I’m sexually active. She did an external examination of my lower abdomen, pressing and putting pressure on various places: The right side was perfectly fine, but when her fingers wandered closer to my left hip it felt like someone was tightening my spine and left leg in a vice. She decided an internal examination would be the next step, soooo up the fingers went as she pushed from the outside in order to feel around for my ovary. 

“There’s definitely some tension there,” She said, as my vision pretty much went white from pain. “I’d recommend an ultrasound, but we don’t do that sort of imaging here. I’ll have to put in for a transfer to a different hospital, is that something you’re alright with?” 

“Yup,” I gasped. 

She was an absolute gem. By this point, the morphine was properly settling in, and even if the pain wasn’t entirely gone, it was at least bearable, wasn’t getting worse, and I felt like some of my mental sharpness was coming back (despite feeling high as Nick Cave in his Berlin days.) 

So I kicked it on my cot for another hour or so, got a couple more doses of morphine, and just really focused on talking myself through the waves of pain that were ever-present. 

“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” became my mantra as my grip tightened on the handle of the cot and I could feel the muscles in my lower body involuntarily clenching in preparation for another wave of pain. “Victoria, breathe. Relax, relax, relax.” 

The nurse had told me to breathe through the pain and try not to clench up when the waves hit, even though that would be my natural reaction. 

So I listened. 

I actually managed to fall asleep for a bit. Various nurses came in every now and then to take my vitals or switch out my IV bags, but I was really proud that I was able to put the urgency and fear out of my mind, and just patiently wait until the ambulance came to take me to the other hospital. 

The two EMTs that came to pick me up were clutch. The older guy was an absolute gem, and by this point I was so doped up on morphine that I was able to do what I do in any other crisis situation: Make stupid jokes. 

They asked how I wanted to be transferred: Most people travel on their backs, but I was sprawled on my tummy and making no signs of moving from this position. “Yeah if it’s all the same to you, can I go like this? This is ah... this is really all that’s working for me right now.” 

“Sure! No problem. Do you think you’ll be able to scoot yourself onto our stretcher on your own?” 

“Oh I’ll give it my best shot,” I muttered groggily. 

It all ended up working out and I was shuttled off to a hospital that could get me in for a pelvic ultrasound. My two EMT buds were with me the whole time, and while I was in the examination room, my dear and amazing friend who had dropped me off (and kept in touch, and kept my boyfriend posted, and insisted on following the ambulance to the hospital,) sat in the waiting room and chatted with them. She liked them too. 

A nice nurse did my ultrasound: An external one first, and then told me she was going to do an internal one but I had to try and pee again first. 

This was my first time standing in hours. It was probably like... 7/8 by now and I’d been on morphine for most of the afternoon, so that was fun. The pain was still too much though, and likely due to drinking the night before, I was pretty dehydrated despite the IV and wasn’t able to pee at all. The nurse said it was okay, and it didn’t look like I was holding much urine anyway, so on with the internal ultrasound we went. 

You’d think that human shame would factor into this day a LOT more. My gown wasn’t tied for most of it, I wasn’t wearing underwear due to my hasty retreat from home, and my pubes are an untamed mess. But honestly - I didn’t give a single fuck who saw me naked or put a finger or object inside me: You guys do whateverrrr you need to do to make this pain go away forever. I don’t care if my tit pops out. I get to live. Sweet. 

Anyway, the actual radiologist came in to see me when the nurse was done (holy fuck he was like if Ryan Gosling chose to be a doctor instead of an actor. God. Damn.) And he told me that as suspected, it looks like my left ovary has twisted in on itself due to a cyst and has cut off the flow of blood to my teeny tiny little egg sac, which is what’s causing immense amounts of pain. Surgery is the only way to fix it, and they were going to get me in tonight: Time is of the essence with a case like this: My life isn’t in immediate danger, but the longer the ovary goes without blood, the more likely it is to die and need to be removed completely. 

So my EMT guys picked me up and wheeled me off to emergency where I was officially admitted to this hospital and set up to wait for a room. It was at this time I gave Tammy the go-ahead to get in touch with my family: I hadn’t wanted to alert them sooner because I knew I was in no immediate peril, and if it turned out to be gas or really bad constipation or something, I didn’t want them to come all the way out just for me to be sent home that night. Now that surgery was on the table though, I knew it was time to get them in. 

Bless TimTam. She stuck through that whole thing with me, went through the impressive task of informing my parents and coordinating getting them to the hospital and in the right place (apparently my mom was adamant about speaking to me and wouldn’t do anything Tammy said, but... mums, right?) 

I got posted up in an emergency room bed before long, where I was told I would be visited by the gynecologist and surgeon shortly, and that I would stay here until the surgery room was ready. 

The pain was manageable at this point: I’m not sure if it was because I was just getting used to it, or if it was because I’d been so pumped full of morphine, but I felt so relieved to know that this was getting dealt with, and it was getting dealt with tonight. I cuddled up in my little bed, made myself comfortable, and slept intermittently while I waited for my parents. 

Mum came first. You could tell she was super worried, but very, very happy to see I was awake, responsive, and alive. I don’t remember much about what we talked about, but honestly, if there had been any doubt in my mind that I wasn’t completely loved and valued and treasured by my mother, it was swept away. Fuck. 

I did have to tell her that I was really sorry, but I need to close my eyes for a bit, and she left to go back to the waiting room. 

The surgeon came by a bit later and told me what the procedure was, how long it would take. They were planning to untwist my ovary using laparoscopic surgery, and simultaneously be able to judge if the ovary could be salvaged. In the event it was too badly damaged, it would have to be removed. 

None of this bothered me much: One of the most important self-realizations I’ve had over the past couple of years is that I have very little interest in having children. There’s just... no desire. Procreating is not high on my list of things to do in life. It’s not that I think I’d be a bad mother or dislike children... it’s just never really been something that’s caught my attention and been like “Yeah! I wanna do THAT!” So where it might be emotionally very damaging for some people to hear they may lose an ovary, for me it was like, “Meh, if it lives great, if it’s gonna keep being a bitch, get rid of the fucking thing.” 

I signed off on the consent forms and was visited shortly by the gynecologist who basically reiterated what the surgeon had told me and verified I was clear on the details of the procedure. He went to great lengths to assure me that even if I did lose the ovary, I wouldn’t begin menopause early, and would still be capable of bearing children. It’s really nice that they do consider all of this: I imagine a lot of people would be very upset by this possibility. 

Mum, Dad and Tammy came back when they were told I had been secured a surgery room, and we chatted for a bit. It’s all fuzzy. In hindsight, I was just... so, so bloody high. I had a proper room now, so they shipped me off to that and I hung out there until they took me away for surgery. 

They wheeled me up to surgery and my parents came too. They got me all prepped, asked me more questions, gave me the run-down of what was gonna happen etc. It wasn’t much new: I’ve been under once before when I got my wisdom teeth removed, so I wasn’t scared or anything. 

I got the go ahead, they chucked me in the massive surgery room that had like... twelve people in it, and then set about hooking me up, oxygenating me, and then bidding me a goodnight as the anesthesia hit my bloodstream. 

I woke up in recovery feeling very much like I had the last time I had been under: It’s like in action flicks where the hero gets knocked over the head and wakes up in a cell and the camera is from his or her perspective and their vision is all wavery and unfocused and sounds are all muffled and confusing and distant. I have to say though, coming back from this one was waaay harder than the last time. It took me about five minutes to get a grip of things when my teeth were out. This took me a good half hour, and I was fighting HARD. 

Also, ice chips are god. 

Once they deemed me suitable human matter, they wheeled me back to my room and put me in bed. My parents came back, and god if I could remember that conversation, I would relay it, but it was like 2 am, and I was exhausted, and mostly I just remember them being like, “Tammy is still here and she’ll be back tomorrow - don’t think she wants to leave. She’s an amazing friend, hey? We gave her some money to get herself lunch or something tomorrow.”

That’s all I remember. Oh. And I thought my mom took my bag because she thought I was gonna get robbed in the night, but she only took my wallet and cards which was very confusing the next morning. 

I was woken up a couple times in the night, once for a sponge bath to get the iodine crap sort of off of me (came complete with a complimentary pair of hospital-issue tighty-whities that my boyfriend thinks are adorable for some reason,) to have blood drawn, and then to try and walk a little and take a piss. 

The nighttime nurse I had was an utter LEGEND. She was soooo pretty, and apparently morphine and coming off anesthesia accentuates my gay, because I was soooo taken with her, and definitely may have told her jokes and flirted at her. But she always laughed back and called me adorable a time or two, so bless her heart. 

I wasn’t able to have a wazz until later in the morning, but I knew they weren’t gonna let me go till I did it, so I stubbornly sat it out till it happened. 

The gynecologist and surgeon visited me early in the morning. I wish they would have come by later in the morning because I was still pretty fuzzy in the brain, but the gist of what I understood was that the surgery was fine, that my ovary actually wasn’t twisted on itself: It was my Fallopian tube. It had developed a growth and due to the size and weight of it had twisted three times on itself and cut off the flow of blood do my ovary. The tube was removed, and the ovary appeared to be okay, but they need to check it out again in a couple weeks to make sure it hasn’t died. It was heavily impressed on my again that while the left side of my uterus is essentially trashed, the right side is astoundingly healthy, and “that’s the side I’ll get pregnant with.” 

Hurrah!

The “growth” was sent off to be examined. They said they aren’t sure what it was, but that it’s not cancerous in nature. They’ll be able to tell me more when I follow up. Tammy told me that she was told that what they took out of me, attached to my Fallopian tube, was the size of a fist. A fucking fist. They didn’t tell me that, so I dunno... guess I’ll have to ask later because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THE SIZE OF A FIST?! HOW DOES SOMEONE NOT NOTICE THAT WHAT THE HELL?!!! Also, if it’s not cancerous, what the fuck was it doing there, and how long was it there? Is this my absorbed twin? Does it have little teeth? Is it an Eldritch Horror? ANSWERS DAMMIT!!

The poor woman sharing a room with me. She was older, and her husband came in to see her in the morning. Shortly after my best mate Fraz showed up with his girlfriend (they were in town this weekend and we were supposed to get together on Saturday before my uterus decided to commit seppuku,) and shortly after Tammy and her hubband Cole showed up too, so my side of the curtain was filling up with this chatty D&D crew that basically sustains its friendship on bad jokes and stupid puns. At like... 10 am. 

Fraz and Char left cuz they had to catch their flight, and nurses were starting to shove discharge papers in my hands and it was all becoming very hectic. 

So yeah. I decided I was 100% done with this shit, signed my papers, ate my breakfast, took another piss, got dressed, and left. My boyfriend finally came in: He couldn’t come the night before cuz he was working till midnight, and honestly, there were enough people around already. 

He said when he asked after me at reception, the guy at the desk was like, “For Vicki?” and he was like, “Yeah?” And the reception guy was like, “Geez she’s really popular, hey?” 

I’m so well loved. 

The fella drove me home and hung out with me all day, and I’ve been on the road to recovery ever since. 

What a fucking ordeal. 

In hindsight, it was fucking terrifying. When I initially checked into emergency I had no idea what was going on, what was going to happen, or what tomorrow would look like. There were definitely moments where my mortality crossed my mind, both in emergency, and before I went into surgery, and even after my discharge. 

Given my choice of profession, this is interesting. I think about how terrified I was, how unsure, and how desperately I wanted the pain to stop, but also how stubbornly and steadfastly I fought: Whatever the fuck was trying to take me out, I was not going to back down to it, I wasn’t going to give into it. It occurred to me at one point when my pain was a solid 10: Life is so good right now. I have a great job, I’ve built an amazing circle of friends around me and we do awesome things together, I love my cats and where I live, I love myself and my family. I have a new relationship - so young... just over a month in length now - but he makes me so, so happy, and even though I’ve known him already for seven years, I’m not done with THIS. So no. Fuck you, Victoria: Breathe, breathe, breathe, relax: You’re making this pain your bitch. 

In another universe somewhere, I am a successful and employed funeral director and mortician. A 26 year old woman comes across my table. She passed away at the hospital during surgery for ovarian torsion, or maybe she passed away due to complications after the fact, or maybe she passed away in the months to come from the cancer they ripped out of her just a few weeks too late. 

Regardless, I cross this table in another universe, and a death worker gets to handle me, put me together, and bring me back to life so my loved ones can say goodbye. 

All I can think of is that when that 26 year old woman crosses my path, I am going to do so right by her. I am going to be so, so proud of her, and I will know the entire weight and validity of her fight, even if she lost it. 

Then I realized that as a death worker, I should feel this way about everyone who crosses my table. And I will. Because now I’ve been there: Between that line of “This could literally be it” and “I had a fun time with my friends last night.” 

Life is fucking crazy guys. 

Ovarian Torsion sucks. 

The timing of this couldn’t have been better though: Could you imagine if this had hit me the night before when I was at Flogging Molly, or at my boyfriend’s house where he and everyone else (including myself) was hammered? That would have been a complete nightmare. 

I’m so, so glad to be alive. 

[rivbike]

*Photos above are of a 2016 55cm Blue Appaloosa. 2017 Appaloosa’s coming in Dark Green or Silver and cream HT and accents — sample color tube photos at the bottom of the post.

joe Appaloosa spring 2017*

The goal was Atlantis capability, ride, construction quality, and beauty at half the price. We cheated by raising the Atlantis price to what it should have been four years ago—sorry about that, future Atlantis buyers—and then cut the Appaloosa price to the bone. We still didn’t make it to half the price, but got close.

---------- Keep reading here...

The joe Appaloosa (informally “Appaloosa”) was conceived as a more tourable Sam Hillborne, but before making the prototypes  we added clearance & stoutness and it became almost an Atlantis clone. It’s so close. The main difference is the fork crown. The Appaloosa crown is an investment casting inspired by the ancient Raleigh tubular crowns that look like they were made from factory scrap. (That is actually a compliment.) The Appaloosa crown combines that neat tubular look with details of the best “segmented” tig-welded mountain bike crowns. It’s strong, stunning, and one of the few fork crowns on earth that opens up a lot of front-rack options. It’s a good feature, and looks nice even with no rack.

The Appaloosa chainstays are longer, too. A chainstay inch influences ride quality more than any other bike inch, and whether the thing being ridden is a car, boat, any kind of board, canoe, or bike, a little extra length improves ride. The Appaloosa is nimble, but it tolerates jostling more than most bikes, including even the jostle-tolerant Atlantis. It’s hard to describe ride quality in words, because so much depends on what you’re used to. But “nimble yet heavenly smooth” is about right. See how hard the descriptions are?

And the Appaloosa top tube slopes up 6-degrees, so it’s easy to get higher handlebars and plush comfort. More crotch clearance & higher bars.

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

the Appaloosa tours

The Appaloosa is as good a touring bike as we can make. Racks mount easily, it carries 45lbs stiffly, your position is comfortable and changeable with conditions (wind, climbing, cruising) all day long. You could break a spoke and the wheel will still roll through without rubbing. There’s room for fatty tires, and the larger sizes (58, 62) have two top tubes to regain the strength and stiffness usually lost on bigger bikes.

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

the Appaloosa explores

When you don’t know what’s ahead, you need a bike that zips enough on pavement and works in bumpy dirt. This comes from a mix of good frame design, strong but not heavy wheels, and you.

The longish frame with essentially perfect geometry is a good start. The stock 45mm combo-tread tires roll fast on pavement and have enough volume to run soft on bumps. If you want more dirt-specific tires, there are dozens to pick from, and it fits up to 52mm.

Then it’s you, and a combination of skill and attitude. Skill is skill, and it’s important but overrated. If you go about riding thinking there’s nothing you shouldn’t be able to conquer, you’ll eventually wreck something; so don’t think it’s you vs terrain. Consider the Appaloosa or any bike, even a single speed with skinny tires, as a speedy convenience when the trails are right for it, and a companion to lean on when you’re pushing it. The woods aren’t your gym and hiking isn’t failure, it’s just a way to rest your pedaling muscles, activate other ones, and slow down enough to look up and down and around. An Appaloosa will minimize your walking, but shouldn’t eliminate it. (Short rant there.)

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

and the Appaloosa commutes & shops

Daily grinds and boring chores are better on a beautiful, comfortable bike that works, so put a basket up front, a rack or monster saddlebag in back, and load ‘er up & head on out. The daily rides minimize impact, tone muscles, burn glucose, and free up your brain for epiphanies. Don’t save the Appaloosa for special rides just because it’s beautiful. If your heirs inherit a pristine bike they’ll figure you were a collector, and they’ll be afraid to ride perfect-condition pedal-bike, so they’ll sell it to a stranger.

other stuff

The NITTO Choco-bars have plenty of hand positions for long rides over varied land and are good for hard and easy efforts...but the Appaloosa works great with other bars, too. Want an Albatross bar? The stock stem works with it. Bosco bar, for beefeater uprightness? Slide the stem lower and there you are. If you’re emotionally bound to drop bars, switch the stem to a tall short one with a 26mm clamp (to fit 26mm bars). For any bar-switch, we cover our costs. If a bike shop does the work, pay them, too. Experimenting with bars and stems is less necessary when the bike is dialed like the Appaloosa, but if you’re curious or compulsive, have at it and have fun.

Junk it up. t’s normal to start out bare & unacceccoriezed, but eventually junk it with bags-racks-baskets so it can work for you. Start with a medium Wald (brand) basket up front, mounted on a rack; or a cheaper and excellent Wald clamp-on rack. Cover it with our red Cap/n Hook nets.  

We don’t just ship it to you in the box it comes to us in. We unpack, assemble and tune perfectly (1 hour), test ride (5 minutes), and make sure all’s perfecto before re-boxing it (2 hours) and sending it off. Our packing jobs are legendary. There’s minimal reassembly at your end—if you’re minimally handy with tools and watch our videos, you’ll breeze through it in 25 minutes, but give yourself a relaxed hour. Or take it to a dealer and pay them $40 to make it rideable. Which brings up a point: If you live near one of our dealers and they stock the bike, buy it from them. Most of our business is customer-direct, because most bike dealers aren’t on our wave length; but our dealers are, and these are treacherous times for us and bike shops, so for heaven’s sake, support them.

General maintenance. After about 200 miles the left crank may loosen. Tighten it with an 8mm hex. After another 500 to 1,000 miles, the derailer and brakes may need adjusting (and equally likely, won’t), so pay attention. If you bought it from us and you live far away, pay for a local tune-up and buy at least a water bottle, too.

Rust? No. Fear of rust is a ploy by those who’ve given up on the best bike frame material in the world. They know it’s where most people are vulnerable, but there’s no reason to fear it. Paint and nail polish touch-up take care of the outside, and if you’re worried about the inside, spray it with Boeshield or any of many hardware store anti-rust sprays made for much more extreme cases than your frame will ever see.You can easily access the tubes through bottle bosses, or by removing the seat post, and by finding the brazing vent holes in the chainstays, seatstays, and fork blades. If you want to  spray the inside of the steerrer, take out the stem. No need to strip the bike to spray the innards.

With each Appaloosa, we include the tools you need to make it rideable and a copy of The Ultimate Bicycle Owners Manual, by Eben Weiss. It’s usually $20 and a bargain at that.

easy to live with details

quill stem for adjustability and adaptability. It’s better than threadless.

butted CrMo steel tubing. Tough, light enough, safe,and nicely proportioned, allows good clearance.

lugs—for strong, reinforced, beautiful joints. Labor-intensive & worth it.

a head badge—always metal.

good graphics—although they have no effect on your ride, if the graphics are off, the bike’s a B+ at best. We’re picky about graphics and have good taste, so your Appaloosa will not embarrass you. The “joe” part is a carryover from our other human-name models. It’s a little stretch, but it allows you or us to refer to it simply as “joe,” which is easy.

Appaloosa $$$$$ (it doesn’t come with a saddle, but we have a fair number of CLEM saddles for $20, or...Brooks. Or use one you already have)

frame/fork w/hs-sp-bb: $1,300

whole bike: $2,300

The BB is a Shimano cartridge with a 110mm spindle. It works with either our SILVER crank or Suginino XD.

[cookingawe]

Swiss Raisin Meusli bread - again..

New Post has been published on https://cookingawe.com/swiss-raisin-meusli-bread-again/

Swiss Raisin Meusli bread - again..

Swiss Raisin Meusli bread – again..

Submitted by Bread1965 on May 18, 2020 – 2:46pm.

I’ve lost track of how many iterations of this I’ve made. But it’s definitely getting dialed in. I didn’t have all the right seeds this time round but wanted to make it this weekend and took some liberties taking it into a new direction – using a soaked oat porridge. It’s a great bread but could have used a bit more sweetness. It took longer to proof with all the oats and lost some of it’s sweetness as a result. I’ve found baking same day typically works best for sweetness of this bread. In this case I started the dough around 1:30pm and baked by 9:30pm. I suspect the high percentage of oats are what delayed everything. I’m also using AP supermarket flour as I’m using what I can get and not my locally  milled flour.

400g flour – 80% all purpose 20% whole wheat

400g water – 100% hydration split between the flour and oat porridge

80g levain – 100% hydration

8g fine sea salt – 2%

40g raw honey – 10%

10g poppy seeds – 2.5%

10g sesame seeds – 2.5%

20g flax seeds – 5%

100g raisins – 25% – not soaked

110g rolled oats soaked with 160g boiling water (from total above) left to cool

Missing – sunflower and pumpkin seeds.

Mixed water not used for oats with rest of cooled oats to break them apart, then added starter to incorporate well.  Then added starter and let rest. Half an hour later added salt and mixed for 7 minutes on medium. Let rest for half an hour and added salt and honey, mixed for a few minutes. Fifteen minutes later added seeds and raisins. Let rest for half an hour. Tried to mix to get window pain but wasn’t possible. The dough never really came together in a proper sense but did hold shape eventually with coil folds. The starter was active at the start but proof at 74 degrees was very slow. It took closer to 6 hours to get a good rise out of the dough (at which point I shaped) and towards the end cranked up the proofer to 78 degrees. I think I had far too much oats and would next time use half the amount. Again, the flour used was a commercial AP flour which I think is impacting some recent bakes.  I had to push hydration to 100% because the dough was dry at first. The oats took up a lot more water than I realized.

Overall good, but not great. I cooked it a bit too hot. Crumb was nicely tender.

[wikimakemoney]

Manage uncertainty: Using data to chart your course

30-second summary:

O-data is data from sales, finance, HR and other operations. It tells you about win rates, profitability by product line and employee attrition.

X-data is the emerging category that drives initiatives like CRM: beliefs, emotions, sentiments. It’s the human feedback that points to gaps between what you think is happening and what is really happening.

By combining O-data with your X-data, you can ferret out what types of products and service interactions created promoters and detractors. Then you can use this data to calculate the NPS for large portions of your customer base.

Today’s younger generation in the workforce does not have the time or desire to be a part of an organization that is not explicitly trying to connect with them on a personal level, and also share those beliefs and mentality outside company walls.

Sentiment has always been a driver of consumer behavior. It plays an even bigger role now that more of our day to day interactions with brands are digital. The question for brands is “how do I measure sentiment about my consumers’ experience in a way that makes it actionable?”

The first step is to recognize the “experience gap” that’s challenging businesses today. Companies have been trying to close these gaps for years – but they’re been doing it with the wrong kinds of data.

They’ve done a great job collecting what we call “O-data” – data from operations. They’ve started to collect “X-data” – another name for experience data. But enterprises have done a poor job of leveraging X-data and an even worse job of correlating it with O-data to generate true insights.

What is O-data and X-data?

O-data is data from sales, finance, HR and other operations. It tells you about win rates, profitability by product line and employee attrition.

Businesses have invested heavily in automating the collection and distribution of O-data. You used to have to get finance to spend weeks reconciling the books to get you a detailed P&L analysis. Now you can click a button and crank out a report.

X-data is the emerging category that drives initiatives like CRM: beliefs, emotions, sentiments. It’s the human feedback that points to gaps between what you think is happening and what is really happening.

Businesses across industries are collecting more data than ever. The solution isn’t necessarily to collect more data. Rather, it’s to collect the right data and do a better job of connecting the X’s and O’s.

For example, say your company has two sets of data: Net Promoter Scores measuring customer loyalty (X-data) and customer product ownership and support history (O-data). With the X-data, you can calculate an NPS for the customers who responded.

You can examine their feedback and try to understand what’s driving the behaviors of the promoters and the detractors. You can learn from this, but the insights only apply to the people who happened to respond to the survey.

By combining O-data with your X-data, you can ferret out what types of products and service interactions created promoters and detractors. Then you can use this data to calculate the NPS for large portions of your customer base.

Perhaps ownership of a certain version of a product tied together with a specific type of customer service problem is highly likely to create detractors.

You can identify all the customers with that profile and take proactive measures to correct the issues — even though they may never have complained.

The example above is hypothetical. But we’re seeing real examples in the field of companies closing experience gaps with more skillful management of X-data and O-data.

Driving employee retention

Volkswagen recently embarked on a campaign to increase customer loyalty across its 104 dealerships in Australia. It had been collecting customer experience data from Australian customers, but it was taking 3-4 months to share results with dealer employees.

The car-maker had also maintained statistics on employee retention at each dealership, but it wasn’t making any connections between employee retention and dealership performance.

Volkswagen changed tactics. It started collecting more employee experience data through multiple touchpoints, using predictive analytics. It started sharing customer experience data with dealerships in real time.

Correlating the customer experience data with employee advocacy data and retention stats, Volkswagen noticed that the 10 dealers in Volkswagen’s Australian network with the greatest employee retention and advocacy also had the greatest proportion of customer promoters.

The car-maker responded by working to close experience gaps in its facilities – listening to workers, investing money, and updating buildings.

The result: Volkswagen posted the strongest employee retention rates and customer experience scores in 15 years. Dealerships improved their net promoter scores by 20 points in under 12 months.

Turning up the dial on customer satisfaction

ComEd provides electric service to more than 3.8 million customers across Northern Illinois. It ranked as the lowest electric utility on a recent JD Power Customer Satisfaction Index.

Of the 40 factors making up the overall score, ComEd ranked in the lowest quartile for 39 of them. The utility had plenty of O-data to evaluate its operations. But it hadn’t done an in-depth customer satisfaction analysis, so it had no insight into why its scores were so low.

ComEd decided to gather more X-data. A driver analysis showed low customer satisfaction ratings were fueled primarily by poor communication and misunderstanding over pricing.

Customers also didn’t understand that ComEd wasn’t responsible for the majority of the charges on their bills (utilities deliver energy but don’t supply it). Customers developed strong negative perceptions about ComEd, concluding its prices were unfairly high.

Armed with these insights, ComEd revamped its bills, creating several new designs. The company conducted a series of online billing trials to determine how customers were reacting with existing and proposed designs.

The result: In less than a year ComEd circulated a new billing statement to its 4 million households. It increased its customer satisfaction score more than any other large electric utility company projects. JD Power references ComEd’s bill redesign as a best practice for utility companies.

Conclusion

It’s taken brands a few years to finally catch up to the hype of customer experience and service, and how it impacts their reputation.

Today’s younger generation in the workforce does not have the time or desire to be a part of an organization that is not explicitly trying to connect with them on a personal level, and also share those beliefs and mentality outside company walls.

If companies buckle down and take hold of their X and O data, they can compete with the best of the best.

2020 is a time for companies to revamp their business priorities, pull together customer data, and analyze how to meet the needs of both their employees and customers.

Success begins on the inside and translates to a perception from the outside. Take data and run with it. Take it from ComEd – you never know what awards you’ll find yourself with.

Peter Maier is the President of the industries organization of SAP. He and his team are globally responsible for the SAP business with companies and organizations in the following industries: Aerospace & Defense, Automotive, High Tech, Industrial Machinery and Components, Chemicals, Defense & Security, Mill Products & Mining, Oil and Gas, Utilities, Public Sector, and Travel & Transportation, Sports.

The post Manage uncertainty: Using data to chart your course appeared first on ClickZ.

source http://wikimakemoney.com/2020/04/28/manage-uncertainty-using-data-to-chart-your-course/

[s3mag]

The LS engine. It’s kind of the final destination isn’t it. I see it a lot in my sick & twisted line of work: If you keep any one car long enough… and you keep kicking that can down the road far enough… eventually it bumps up against an LS swap & comes to rest. And you go, “Saaaay now, what’s this thing??”

The LS is the auto-aftermarket’s Roman Empire, and all roads lead to Rome if you stay on ‘em long enough.

Long story short, THAT’s why we’re sitting here looking at a turbocharged LS in Eric Englert’s 3000GT. It’s the result of being deeeeeeep in a labyrinth of 3000GT riddles & obstacles. You come up for air, and then all the sudden, the air’s full of tiny microscopic LS particles.

Backstory

So here’s the backstory – a 3000GT has been in Eric’s life for 20 years now. He met his wife in those earlier years with a ’91 model… and that car played a huge supporting role in their early relationship. He sold that first car so they could buy a house & build a family.

…Sold it for love how sweet.

But the 3000GT always had that sentimental value to Eric and his wife. So as the Englert family got planted & settled, Eric was able to pick this one up in 2010. A clean example of a pop-up headlight 3000GT. It was a 100% garaged & unmolested Arizona car, with original paint & a stock 6g72 engine.

Eric made the purchase, and then with open arms, Mitsubishi welcomed him back to the Mitsu-family & the car spun a bearing within the first month.

Eric built the 6g72 with bigger turbos & AEM management. He spun a bearing again.

He stuck a 3.5 6g74 in its place, made 500hp!! …And then shot a rod.

DSM Swap

After taking a bunch more hits with a bunch more 6g motors… Eric decided to pioneer a 4g63 (DSM) swap. A lot of people questioned why you’d go through the headache & torment of putting a 4g63 engine in a car that’s heavier than the Eclipse/Talon. But the 4G63 is a decimate-all engine with a lot of aftermarket support. And the 3000 is heavier, because it has heavier components – like a larger diff & CV axles. You can get a lot of the ‘dumb’ weight out of a 3000GT by removing all the complicated & overly-sophisticated technology of the time period. For example, swapping to a 4g63 with manual transmission takes 100-pounds off the nose… right off the bat. Then if you go through the car, and remove/replace heavy, burdensome suspension components, steering components, exhaust components, sound deadening, etc… you can get the weight about down to around DSM specs.

The 3000GT is actually very close to the 1G DSM chassis in design. It’s slightly wider, but it has the exact same wheelbase. You can literally use the 3000GT shifter & cables with the 4g swap. And a lot of your plugs & sensors (as well as your alternator) all plug right up.

So in short – Eric was running the DSM engine & transmission, with 3000GT axles & rear diff, and a modified 3000GT driveshaft. Eric engineered his own motor mounts for the 3000-to-4g63 swap… and he still makes them, in case anyone needs them for their own project.

With the 4g63-swapped version of this car, Eric was running 9.65 quarter-miles at 37-pounds of boost… WITH a full dash, carpet, and rear seats. BUT – on the street, Eric was running 50-pounds of boost and nitrous! So it was a low 9-second car… he just doesn’t have the time-slip to prove it.

Despite the impressive numbers on the 4g, he was breaking transfer cases at the track. And all the downtime in-between fixes waiting for custom parts, was causing Eric some impatience.

…So he decided to try the LS thing.

The LS Thing

The LS is not an easy swap in this car. It took waaaay more hours than expected, in terms of planning, cutting, and welding. Eric had to cut a new trans tunnel & firewall. So since he was eyeball-deep in it anyway, he said ‘screw it’ & made the hole bigger to move the engine further back towards the center of the car. He built a tube/chromoly subframe rather than hacking-up the original one… with the goal of functionally tucking 275 tires under the front.

The front brakes are off an SN95 Mustang. Eric’s also using Racecraft drop spindles for an SN95. Coilovers are Fortune Auto from an Evo 9. The power steering rack is courtesy of a schweet ’88 Thunderbird. And Eric’s using an electric hydraulic power steering pump off a Toyota MR Spyder.

The car just ‘debuted’ this past summer before LS Fest, where I bumped into him at a random gas station. It recently ran a 9.70 at 20psi… and that was limited to just rolling off the starting line, because he can’t launch it on stock axles.

With the Xona Rota XR400 84mm turbo + PTC Powerglide transmission, the car shifts so hard that it breaks axles literally every time at WOT… even on street tires. Eric carries extras in the trunk, and can often be seen replacing them on the side of the road. He’s running out of spares, so next up, Eric bought a Ford 8.8 rear-end & is buying super expensive built axles.

Family Affair

In hindsight, Eric would probably NOT do the LS swap again, simply because it was such a ton of work to get this engine into this chassis… referencing that he spent a year & a lot of dollars basically building a Japanese C5 lol. But having said that – Eric is 100% DEFINITELY glad he did it. He doesn’t regret the turnout… it was just a lot of work to get there. But for the Englert family, 3000GTs are kind of a family affair. They’re worth the hassle. And this car is equal parts crazy, clean, and unique. I mean shoot – you don’t see nice 3000GTs much anymore period… so to see one with an LS like this is pretty cool.

Eric has 4 kids – 18, 14, 13, and 6. Back when the 6-year-old was 4, he saw dad’s 3000GT with the front bumper off and said, “Don’t put the bumper back on, you’ll save weight.” Keep in mind… this kid is only 4 years old! Eric tried to explain aerodynamics the best he could. The next day, the kid (obviously having thought about it a good bit), came back and said, “Dad you should take the mirrors off… you’ll save weight annnd be more aerodynamic.”

Can’t argue with that!

Back when Eric’s 18-year old was just a baby, she left a froggy toy in his first 3000GT. That frog still sits in this car today, and has become Eric’s good-luck safety charm.

Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4 (5300GT VR2)

  Engine

5.3l aluminum gen3 LS

Stock gen4 rods and pistons (ring gap opened up for boost)

Stock 5.3 heads with TSP dual springs and pushrods

LJMS Stage2 turbo cam

LS6 intake

MSD plug wires

Drivetrain

PTC powerglide, reid case, and pro trans-brake

PTC torque converter

TCI Outlaw shifter

3 buttons (line lock, trans-brake, and bump)

Power Adder

Xona Rota XR400 84mm turbo from Robert at Forced Performance

Tial BOV

Tial 40mm wastegates (2)

NOS dry nitrous kit (fueling added by MS3Pro ecu)

Engine Management

MS3Pro-Evo ECU w/LS Swap harness

  Fuel

210lb Bosch injectors

Bosch 044 fuel pumps (2)

10-gallon fuel cell (modified to use the stock gas cap & fill tube)

ProMeth Volute Injection meth kit with 3-gal tank (triggered by MS3Pro ecu above 10psi)

FlexFuel using GM sensor and tuned in MS3Pro ecu

  Wheels

18×9.5 +35 ESR front with Nitto NT05 275/35/18

19×9.5 +40 ESM rear with Nitto NT05 275/35/19

17×9+35 XXR rear with M/T ET Street R (DOT slick) 28×11.50-17LT

Steering/Brakes/Suspension

Racecraft SN95 Mustang 2″ drop spindles

SN95 brake calipers & rotors

Hawk pads

Aerospace brake master on stock booster

-Vacuum pump and reservoir to maintain adequate vacuum

Hydraulic handbrake for rear brakes

Thunderbird PS rack

MR-S electric PS pump

Modified stock steering rack

Exterior

RetroSpec front lip and side splitters

Carbon Fiber hood & fiberglass hatch painted body color “snake eyes”

QuikLatch for hood, hatch, and front bumper

Carbon fiber covers for removed side mirrors

OEM foglights!!

Interior

10pt chromoly cage

Kirkey Pro Street drag seats

Perfect Tuning CANBus gauge

AEM Trim Pot (boost dial)

XS Power 14v battery in hatch

-GM truck alternator tricked with diodes to output 16volts

3000GT speedo & tach functional  😉

Fabrication – Owner Built

Recessed firewall (steel wheel barrow tub!)

Fabricated trans tunnel

Chromoly front subframe

Chromoly adjustable control arms

-QA1 heim joints, double adjusters and adjustable ball joints

Turbo kit with 4″ electric cutout to side-exit, or 3″ full aluminum exhaust

–(switch on center console)

Chromoly strut tower brace

Self built & self tuned. (except for the roll cage)

  Results….

4Gswap: 2.0l, 9.65 @ 143, 37psi and ran up to 50psi on the street and a 100shot up to 45psi

LSswap: 5.3l, 9.70 @ 146 20psi and just rolling out, no launch on stock axles.

Best trap of 148mph. (sprayed nitrous on the street but not at track yet)

Does wicked burnouts!

Engine Progression….

6g72. 135k mi 100% stock. Engine died by spun rod bearing within a month of ownership.

6g72. Bought a built used engine and went nuts doing the build I always dreamed of. (twin billet td05 turbos, AEM, custom FMIC to keep foglights, etc). After getting it driving, had low compression in one cyl.

6g72. Tore down used built engine for a full refresh, and also bought new aftermarket billet oil pump gears (mistake!). This engine died by spun rod bearing at only 400whp. Later discovered that the oil pump gears were not machined correctly causing oil pressure issues at higher rpm.

6g74. Parted out built 3.0l engine and ran a stock 3.5l 6g74 on the billet turbos. Lasted for a short while at 500whp & ended in carnage with a busted rod.

6g72. Stock replacement… sold billet turbos for used 14Bs. Had a lot of fun with this engine around 500whp for quite awhile, and eventually bent a rod.

6g72. decided on built engine again with big mofo cams to rev. Also bought a TIG welder to try fabbing. Modified my td05 kit for open wastegate dumps, and downpipe to expand to 4-inches, for a 4″ aluminum exhaust. Also swapped in an AWD auto (trans available in EU and Japan for the non-turbo awd 3000/GTO). LOVED the auto! Totally hooked on the instant & aggressive shifts, combined with zero boost lag between shifts. Engine died an early death due to crank balance issue that wiped out the mains. Demoralized yet motivated.

4g64. 4GSwap was born! Stock 2.4l with dohc head and a single 14B turbo paired with AWD auto for proof of concept. Engine didn’t die!!

4g64. built 2.4LR and HX40 turbo. Ran 10.7 on street tires. Died due to oil filter backing off & losing oil

4g63. 2.0 built, Forced Performance Super 99 turbo! Ran 9’s. Lots of fun. Engine didn’t die!! Parted out to go even crazier.

4g63. 2.0 long rod. Billet crank, aluminum rods, gas-ported pistons. Also ran 9’s, but ended up running a lot more boost on the street. Engine didn’t die!!! Sold & parted to fund LS Swap

5.3l iron block. Proof of concept engine. Issues with imported turbo so only ran 10.9. Engine didn’t die!! Swapped to aluminum block for 100lb weight savings. Sold iron block.

5.3l Aluminum block. Still kickin! 9’s at 20psi and no nitrous. A lot more of both to come. It may die. 😀

Already have a K1 forged stroker crank and K1 rods on the shelf. Plan to get Wiseco pistons to build a 5.95l stroker in a spare aluminum 5.3l junkyard longblock I picked up 😉

Text by Wooley   Photos by Ty Cobb

LS-swapped, turbocharged 3000GT… w/ fogs!! The LS engine. It’s kind of the final destination isn’t it. I see it a lot in my sick & twisted line of work: If you keep any one car long enough… and you keep kicking that can down the road far enough… eventually it bumps up against an LS swap & comes to rest.

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Squat Your Way to Picture Perfect Legs

Squats are often referred to as the king of leg exercises. That’s a title that is truly deserved because no other exercise comes close to offering the benefits of squats. Whatever your fitness goal is, squats will help you get there faster. Squats ARE challenging, and you’ll need to learn to do them right, but your investment of time and effort will soon be rewarded!

Squats are a compound exercise. This means they involve two or more joints and multiple muscle groups all working together. In this instance, multiple muscle groups is something of an understatement – squats work virtually every muscle in your legs, and even some in your upper body too.

This not only means that squats are a very time-efficient exercise, they are also great for calorie burning. All of that muscular activity means that squats use a lot of energy. That’s good news if you want to tone up and lose weight at the same time.

Squats are also a very functional exercise. They closely replicate and benefit the activities of daily living. You will probably have done several squats already today – sitting down and standing up, getting on and off the loo, and getting in and out of your car for example. And walking up or down stairs? That’s a whole sequence of one-legged squats.

Because squats involve a lot of joints and muscles, as well as a large range of motion, they are a technically demanding exercise. Well-performed squats are the answer to your workout prayers, but badly performed squats can lead to aches and pains. You need to learn how to squat right! 

There are lots of different types of squat you can perform, but they all share these common characteristics. Apply these rules to whichever type of squat you do, and you’ll get great results with fewer injuries.

Stand with     your feet between hip and shoulder-width apart, with your toes facing in     the same direction as your knees. Your stance depends on what you find     comfortable, and taller people often prefer a wider stance. Experiment to     determine which one works for you.

Initiate     your descent by pushing your hips back. This will help activate your     hamstrings and glutes, as well as keeping your weight on your heels for     better balance and less knee stress. Just after pushing your hips back,     it’s time to bend your knees. Do not allow your knees to travel forward of     your toes.

Squat down     until your thighs are approximately parallel to the floor or as deep as     your flexibility allows. Do not round your lower back, and make sure you     keep your chest up and look straight ahead throughout.

Drive down     through your heels and stand back up. Stand fully upright but do not lock     out your knees or lean back. That’s one flawless rep done, now keep going!

  Squat variations

Regular bodyweight squats, also known as air squats, are a great exercise but if you can do more than 20-30 reps without feeling your legs working overtime, they are too easy to be of much benefit. Crank up the intensity with these more demanding squat variations. Remember though, whichever squat variation you try, make sure you do each and every rep properly, following the guidelines outlined above.

  Goblet squats

Goblet squats involve holding a dumbbell, kettle bell, or medicine ball in front of your chest. This increases the demand on your leg muscles but also forces you to use great exercise technique. If you lean too far forward, the weight will fall away from your chest and you’ll end up with more weight on your arms than your legs. Goblet squats are an excellent way to learn and develop good squatting technique.

  Barbell back squats

This gym staple is one of the exercises contested in power lifting competitions. With a barbell resting across your upper back, this is the squat exercise that will allow you to lift the most weight. However, it’s also a tricky and sometimes uncomfortable exercise to master. It’s a good job there are plenty of other variations to try!

  Barbell front squats  

As the name suggests, where back squats involve resting and holding a barbell behind you, with front squats the barbell is held in front of you. It rests across your shoulders and is held in place by keeping your upper arms up and parallel to the floor.

Front squats are popular with Olympic weight lifters and are a divisive subject amongst exercisers. Some people love them, while others hate them, finding them awkward and difficult. Try them and decide which camp you are in.

   Zercher squats

This unusually-named exercise is one of the most accessible ways to squat. Similar to the goblet squat, it’s very hard to do this exercise incorrectly. Light weights should present no problems but, as you increase the load, you may find Zercher squats hurt your arms. This is easily remedied by using a barbell pad or wrapping the bar in a towel.

  Bulgarian split squats

If you have mastered squatting with two legs, why not try squatting with just one? That’s not exactly the case with this exercise, but roughly 75% of the work is done by your front leg and only 25% by the rear leg. This exercise is not just a good leg exercise, it’s also good for your balance and your mobility too. Master this exercise with just your bodyweight before progressing to dumbbells or a barbell.

   How to program squats

With more than a few variations to try, there is nothing wrong with squatting twice or even three-times a week, preferably on non-consecutive days to allow time to rest. It’s also a good idea to use a variety of loads and set/rep schemes to avoid overtraining and boredom.

For example:

Monday –     barbell back squats, 4 sets of eight reps, heavy weights

Wednesday     – goblet squats, 2 sets of 20 reps, light weights

Friday –     Zercher squats, 3 sets of 12 reps, moderate weights

 Some people think that squats are bad for the knees. This simply isn’t true. Performed properly, squats strengthen the knee joint and all the associated muscles. They can actually reduce or prevent knee pain. However, if squats DO hurt your knees, you may be doing them wrong or are using too much weight. Check your technique, dial back the load, and start over. Gradual progression is the key to successful squats and picture-perfect legs!

[autobahnaudivolkswagen]

My Car Won’t Start – Is My Battery Dead or My Alternator?

What will you do when you turn the key, and your car won’t start? This is one of the worst sensations especially when there’s no apparent reason.

When your car loses power and won’t crank, there can be several reasons. The battery is the usual culprit, but there may be an underlying issue. Without finding the reason, you may find yourself stranded or at the mercy of waiting for roadside assistance.

autobahn-performance.com helps you uncover the reasons a car battery can die, how to solve the problem before being stranded, and who to call when there is no one around to help.

My Car Won’t Start and Battery Needs to be Jumped

When you turn the ignition key, the expectation is for the vehicle to roar to life and all of your internal electronics to turn on. When that doesn’t happen, it can be infuriating and require a jump to get your car going again.

When using jumper cables, the following will help you avoid electrical damage and personal injury:

• Check your vehicle owner’s manual for any special instructions or precautions before attempting to jump your or another battery. • Align the vehicles so that the jumper cables easily reach between the two batteries. • Inspect both batteries. If either is cracked or leaking battery fluid (sulfuric acid), DO NOT proceed! There is a serious risk of fire or explosion with a defective or damaged battery. • Extend and inspect the cables for worn spots, frayed wires, and loose clamps (avoid using the cables if they are in poor condition) • The jumper cable clamps are universally designated “red” for positive or a (+) sign and “black” for negative or a (-) sign. The battery posts will also be clearly identified in red or (+) and black or (-). • With both vehicles off, attach a positive clamp to the positive post of the dead battery. • Attach the other positive clamp to the positive post of the good battery. • Attach the negative clamp to the negative post of the good battery. • Attach the other negative clamp to unpainted metal on the dead battery’s vehicle, such as the frame, a bolt, or the engine block. • Start the vehicle with the good battery and allow it to idle for 2 to 3 minutes. • Start the vehicle with the dead battery. • Remove the jumper cables in the reverse order they were attached: negative from the frame, negative from the good battery, positive from the good battery, and lastly, remove the positive clamp from the battery that was charged.

Car Battery Problems and Solutions

The following are scenarios in which a car battery has lost or will not hold a charge:

Scenario 1 – You left a light on in the car or forgot to turn off the headlights and running lights.

This is the most straightforward scenario to fix and the easiest to avoid. After getting a jump for the battery, operate the vehicle for a minimum of 20 to 30 minutes to reenergize the battery.

Solution: Before exiting the vehicle, turn of headlights, running lights, electronic accessories, or anything requiring a power source.

Scenario 2 – The battery is faulty, old, damaged, or can no longer hold a charge.

After getting a jump, operating the vehicle, and stopping, the battery dies again or has difficulty turning the engine over (When the car is in operation, the headlights and internal console lights will burn steadily).

Solution: Replace or have the battery replaced. Make sure the replacement battery is the appropriate size (BCI) and strength (CCA) for your vehicle make and model.

The two numbers associated with your battery are as follows:

BCI – Battery Council International or BCI group number. These numbers identify the physical dimensions of the battery. If the new battery is the wrong size, it will not fit properly in the battery tray or not be secured by the hold-down clamp or strap.

CCA – Cold Cranking Amps. This defines a battery’s ability to start an engine in cold temperatures. The higher the CCA, the greater the starting power of the battery.

Old Battery Disposal – Part of the cost of a new battery is a refundable core charge. Since car batteries contain toxic materials such as lead and sulfuric acid, it is encouraged to give the old battery to the vendor that sold you the new one for a core charge refund and proper disposal of the battery.

Scenario 3 – The vehicles alternator is no longer functioning, and the battery repeatedly dies.

After getting a jump, turn on the internal console lights and/or the headlights. If the lights brighten and dim as the motor revs up or slows down, it is indeed the alternator that is no longer sending power to the battery and electronic components of the vehicle.

Solution: Replace or have the alternator replaced by a trusted mechanic, then have the battery checked after replacing the alternator to ensure that it was not damaged while in use without a functioning alternator.

Some other potential reasons your vehicle may be failing to start may include:

• Fuel line interruption • Out of gas • Bad starter • Failed starter solenoid • Bad alternator diode • Bad ignition switch • Faulty wiring

Except for being out of gas, the above mechanical or electrical malfunctions should be addressed by a trusted mechanic.

Roadside Assistance When Your Car Won’t Start

If you find yourself in a situation where your car won’t start, and no one is around to help you or offer a jump to get you going again, roadside assistance is a mobile mechanic service that comes to your location to help fix most common mechanical issues, including the battery and electrical system.

Roadside assistance is offered by most car insurance policies and is a component of most service packages when purchasing a new vehicle from a dealership (time and mileage limitations may apply).

Many states also offer roadside assistance programs. The State of Georgia, for example, provides services through programs such as Coordinated Highway Assistance & Maintenance Program (CHAMP) and Highway Emergency Response Operators (HEROs), both of which can be reached by dialing 5-1-1 from any mobile device. Visit dot.ga.gov/DS/Travel/HEROs for more information.

Why Won’t My Car Start

A dead battery can leave you in the awkward position of relying on a Good Samaritan or having to wait for roadside assistance to arrive.

In this article, you discovered several reasons why a car battery may die, how to solve the problem, and who to call when no one is around to give you a jump.

Once you are mobile again, your next stop should be to your trusted mechanic to fix your battery problem. Procrastination for this type of repair may lead to catastrophic electrical failure within the vehicle or leave you stranded in a random location.

Sources: https://www.tdi.texas.gov/pubs/videoresource/fsjumpbattery.pdf http://www.dot.ga.gov/DS/Travel/CHAMP http://automotive.aaa.com/ https://www.geico.com

Autobahn Performance

6476 Buford Hwy Norcross, GA 30071 (770) 409-8288

The post My Car Won’t Start – Is My Battery Dead or My Alternator? appeared first on http://autobahn-performance.com

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Ford Expedition Fob Keys And Remote Program San Antonio TX

Do you need an onsite Ford Expedition key duplication, replacement or programming? San Antonio Key Replacement render a comprehensive local key making services 24 hrs comprehending precisely how troublesome it can be when you locked-out of your car or lose your vehicle key, our staff are committed to be your motor vehicle locksmith conventional road side aid every time you find yourself locked yourself out of your pickup, car or RV. Our worker force possess many years of experience serving people in San Antonio TX and next door area and our commitment is what make us high end keysmith service in San Antonio TX.

Recent vehicles are commonly equipped with transponders keys that should be coded to the immobiliserand we are capable to replace and duplicate transponder keys to assure that your newish Ford Expedition keys are working exactly as an automobile manufacturer O-E-M keys and keep pace specifically for your vehicle computer and car lock and key infrastructure.

Ford Expedition lost key made in San Antonio TX

If you lost your car keys or wish an additional remote fobik key programmed in San Antonio TX, in a search for a top choice agilest on-the-spot Ford Expedition key replacement solution, you are exactly in the right place, pick up the phone and dial and our keys replacement technicians will come down to you shortly.

At San Antonio Key Replacement, we are conscious to the simple fact that each and every single main city in the U.S.A has leastways a few key smith enterprises, but what drivers dont know is that each and every single lock smith in San Antonio TX in general well-informed in one specific of the profession field. Most lock-man conventions will replenish a whole in one automotive, commercial, safe or residential lockman services and even motor vehicle towing and other service and often employ uneducated man-power that could present a risk to your possession or charge more for a a straightforward task because he is normally on higher pay position task like alarm de-coding or safecracking.

About Ford Expedition lock and key structure

Ford is America's multi-country trendy car-maker of common motor vehicles and emerge to be one of the greatest American car maker since 1903.

Ford originate applying P.A.T.S chip keys in 1996. Earliest  Ford chip keys might be replicated by a smooth cost effective dashboard duplication procedure.

Current cars depends on year and model switched the locks and key instrumentation to an encoded passive anti theft system chipped keys that requisite a distinct diagnostic hardware and key programmer in order to copy another key.

Beginning at 2007, A few  Ford cars utilize push-start ignition and Intelligent Access with push-button start as either optional or standard platform.

Ignition repair

When drivers locking and unlocking the car ignition thousands of times, it is certainly natural to undergo some kind of ignition problem and the signs can be ignition key is freely turn in the ignition, ignition key is hard to turn in the ignition, dash board lights twinkling and key is stuck in the ignition lock and you cant run your car.  

The source of those complications might be a worn out key or an ignition switch malfunction and for one and the other situations, ignition repair or replacement is a complex job for a handy ignition locksmith, so we strongly advise not to tamper with the ignition lock by incompetent individual that most likely will induce a greater hardship.

</p> <h5>Worn out Ford Expedition ignition key</h5> <p> If the malfunction is due to a run-down key, basic cloning of the key will potentially copy the flaw to the new cut and programmed key. As opposed to duplicating the battered key data, an experienced vehicle key-smith will utilize dedicated Ford Expedition diagnostic tools, cutters and programmers to forge a new key in consonance with the vehicle ID number.

</p> <h5>Broken Ford Expedition ignition switch</h5> <p> If the malfunction is due to the ignition lock, it can be in behalf of dust or obstacle sized in the ignition key-tunnel or possibly a loose or detach arbor or axis inside the ignition switch preventing the ignition from turning on. Using dedicated ignition programming, replacing and repairing devices a key smith will need to remove any dust or obstacle from within the keyhole rekey or strengthen ignition tumbler pins or maybe even outplace the ignition overall.

Transponder chip key forge

A transponder is above all anti-theft mechanism. With transponder, lock pick or hot wiring a vehicle is not so effective no more if someone thinking about stealing a car.

The main idea behind an electric key lock technology is a microchip hidden commonly in the cap of the key, when a driver place a key into the ignition key-breach, the tiny chip send a distinct enciphered message to the car computer. If the immobiliser will not identify a suitable signal code, the motor vehicle will not light up.

While few years and models auto makers offer control board catering to program a surplus key all alone, car key replacement, programming and repair  become remarkably pricey then 20 years ago and besides, if all keys are lost, the vehicle computer should be rekeyed by suitable key programming machine owned by a locksmith or the dealership.

Ford Expedition key-less entry

Smart-keys are a superior in car user comfort and convenience, you are adept to unlock and lock your car door and furthermore running the car engine – yet avoiding holding the key. You just need to carry it on you, whether in your handbag or purse.

Whenever the car user walk by their vehicle, the proximity key is recognized by a corresponding radio frequency chip inside the smart-key. The car door unlock and open when the car user yanks the lock handle. The car engine starts up pressing a button on the dash board. The button is replacing the mechanical key by closing the circuit on the engine fuel injection.

Closing the car doors when leaving is just as straight forward. The car user solely presses a clicker on the door lock handle – many smart-keys might even automatically locks when the car user go's out of reach.

Copy vs lost car keys

Modernized Ford Expedition keys and locks instrument enclose transponder chip key and car immobiliser and although transponder keys come in a range of laser cut, fob-key, switch-blade key and smart key keys, the main concept behind this mechanism is that the transmitter in the key transmit a message to the receiver in the car. If the receiver does not identify a suitable message, the fuel injection will block and the motor vehicle will not crank.

Several earliest models keys could be comfortably copied using dashboard process, however normally to duplicate a surplus key, the chip in the key should be coded by a specific programming machine owned by the dealer-ship or a locksmith.

If all your keys is lost or stolen, the vehicle computer unit should be programmed to utilize the new key and dismiss the lost key. This process arranges a security measurement assuring the car will forget the stolen or misplaced key. This key recovery, interface available only to a licensed locksmith or the Ford Expedition dealer, which actually means that you will must call a car lock smith or haul your vehicle to the dealer.

24hr car lock out

Have you ever locked yourself out of vehicle with the keys inside? If you did, you understand how frustrating it might be when a car owner goes through similar manifestation.

San Antonio Key Replacement pop a lock agent caters ultimate 24 hour car lockout services at cost-effective price. Employing our dedicated lock crackerjack tools we are able to pop your car without any harm to the car truck, van, car or SUV.

Car locks modify

San Antonio Key Replacement is satisfied to implement all kind of Ford Expedition change services at your location to reconstitute a crushed, lifted or misplaced keys. Mightily all stylish car are arrayed with electrical key-lock infrastructure and the operation required to get your lock modified must encompass the proper decoder for the detailed car. Instead of dragging your vehicle to the dealer, just gather the buzz and call our customer care office in San Antonio TX and one of our vehicle rekeying workforce will be with you as swiftly as possible with a traveling work van including advanced programmers, blank keys, key cutters and ignition parts ready to lift any type of emergency scenes.

Last word

San Antonio Key Replacement grants all sort motor vehicle ignition, keys and locks services on-site. We utilize outstanding, skilled team members that bear wide proficiency with all car-makers year and model and our business first concern is to conduct consumers blistering and faithful roadside solving to their headaches guaranteeing fastest response time to let you back in their vehicle and put them back behind the wheel within the least possible amount of time. . If you’re looking for Car key replacement service in San Antonio Texas call (210)598-8120 for a reliable local automotive locksmith, who duplicate and replace trunk, door and ignition keys and remote fob made on the spot.