#better than a brompton

[releasing-my-insanity]

What were your feelings on Maggie in the CS? As soon as she showed up I thought of you!

Aww, that's sweet that you thought of me. I haven't watched the full episode yet, kinda scared to honestly. But I've watched the clips the official twitter shared. Based on that I understood that Arthur is still a thing, but get the feeling that Maggie really does not care about him much if at all. If James were in the war I think Helen would be concerned/upset. Maggie doesn't seem at all bothered by Arthur being in the war and away during Christmas, at least not in the clips I've seen.

She also seems to be VERY focused on Tristan once again. And the fact that Tristan invited her to "just a few friends for drinks" and she went is very telling. From what I've seen so far I'm feeling like Maggie has been allowed to regain her personality. And that she and Tristan are allowed to be friends again.

I don't like that she's still in relationship with someone she doesn't seem to love and I feel like she's having an (not necessarily expressed) emotional affair with Tristan. That makes me sad and still seems out of character from what we saw in season one. But just having her back makes me feel a lot better.

I also think that at this point there is very little doubt that Maggie/Tristan is going to be endgame. The fact that she's been important three seasons in a row and returns as soon as he's single again clearly means something. Especially in comparison to Siegfried's love interests, since both Dorothy and Diana Brompton disappeared after a season.

(Came back to add a cut because oops, that’s very long.)

As I've said, I haven't seen more than a handful of clips, but based on what I have seen, I suspect that Tristan's time in the service will be short (I assume they don't want to lose a main character for most of a season). So I'm expecting that something will happen to Arthur either before Tristan returns to Darrowby or shortly thereafter.

I've been realizing that there's a fair amount of evidence for Maggie's family being poor. In the first season she only wears a handful of things across multiple days/seasons. Two blouses, a couple of skirts, one vest(US)/sleeveless jumper(UK), one cardigan, a pair of earrings, one coat and her hat/scarf/gloves. (Contrast with Helen's multiple outfits and three coats.)

But in season 2 and season 3 when she's with Arthur she suddenly has six new blouses and a couple new sweaters and some new skirts. And I brushed over it at the time, but she outright told Tristan that Arthur has money.

So I'm suspecting that Maggie made that choice because she and/or her family felt that she had to marry money. She's so focused on Tristan because he's the one she actually has feelings for. Arthur is just a way out of living paycheck-to-paycheck.

Obviously my preference would have been for Maggie to have broken up with Arthur for the same reason Helen broke up with Hugh. But since that's not happened, I think the most likely direction for season 4 to take is that Arthur will be killed in action. Maggie will be upset, but it will be because she's mad at herself for not being more upset. Hopefully she'll eventually explain to Tristan that her relationship with Arthur was about money not feelings. I want so much for Tristan and the audience to finally get an explanation.

TL;DR: From the clips I've seen Maggie and Tristan seem to be able to be friends again (though I don't think "friends" accurately captures their feelings for each other.) Maggie doesn't seem to care about Arthur very much despite still wearing a ring. I'm pretty darn sure Maggie/Tristan will be endgame, and I suspect Arthur will conveniently be killed in action to felicitate that eventuality.

[abbiistabbii]

Know what pisses me off? eScooters should be legal on roads and bikepaths and treated like electric bikes, but they're not. In fact the fact Electric Bikes are perfectly legal but eScooters are not is, to be frank, an act of class warfare. An electric bike is around £1,000+. The cheapest Halfords Adult eScooter is £529, only one eBike is cheaper than that at Halfords, the rest go for £1,000+. They are literally locking out poorer people from something that would allow them to not need to drive everywhere.

An eScooter is not merely cheaper than an eBike but also gets the job done for small to medium distance Journeys. Every eBike on the road is a car off the road, freeing up roadspace and thus reducing traffic. On top of this, they can be used on bike lanes and bike paths. Those segregated bikelanes are perfect for eScooters, as are those old railway lines they turned into bike paths. Oh, did I mention they fold up, meaning that not only can you have one in a flat or a house in your hallway but you can also take them on a train or a tram, or on a metro and take up even less space than a bike or even a Brompton. eScooters have the potential to free people from needing to rely so much on the car and the fact that eBikes are legal while the cheaper, more convienient eScooter is not is not merely an act of class warfare but is literally holding back a mobility revolution that could increase public transportation use, reduce car traffic, and make life better for those who cannot afford a car or who are on lower incomes.

[hoursofreading]

He believed in the Brotherhood of Man. He believed that all the enlightened men in Europe should come together to discuss good government and the development of the arts and sciences. He knew Jeremy Bentham and Joseph Priestley. He ran an anti-slavery society, and wrote about jurisprudence, the English parliamentary system and the Epistles of Saint Paul. He had arrived at his present cramped apartment on the rue de Grétry by way of Switzerland, the United States, a cell in the Bastille and a flat on Brompton Road. Tom Paine was a great friend of his (he said) and George Washington had more than once asked for his advice. Brissot was an optimist. He believed that common sense and love of liberty would always prevail. Towards Camille he was kind, helpful, faintly patronizing. He liked to talk about his past life, and congratulate himself on the better days ahead.

A Place of Greater Safety (Hilary Mantel)

[benefits1986]

Of Baby Milk, Biking, Booking & Bombing

When the universe says go, for a change, who am I to say no? LUH.

Pinagdadasal ko na lang talaga mga bagay-bagay lalo na 'pag I'm cornered like 'yung pag-stand in the corner ko nung bata pa ako sa kasalanang hindi ko naman ginawa. Kung baga, damay lang ako kasi ako ang ate tapos 'yung kapatid ko, sinaksak 'yung susi sa outlet, so kasalanan ko pa rin na nakatunganga lang ako sa TV on a weekend. :D Anyway, things change in the same manner that they never change, too. Nagkaroon lang ng maturity 101 saka letting go and letting be.

Binyag nung bunso ng kapatid ko and as usual, 'di ko na naman na-gets na ninang pala ako kahit sinabi kong ayoko nga kasi. So, kahit ang gusto ko talagang iregalo is Samba na for 6 to 9 months, gatas na lang talaga ang binili ko. Mas kailangan niya 'yun lalo need niya hypoallergenic baby milk. Next step ko dito is maghanap ng rektang kausap sa brand/marketing/sales team which is relatively easy to do, I think. Baka kahit 20% off ma-swing ko kasi mhie, ang legit na nakakalumpo e ang lakas pang magatas ng bata na 'to. Tatawid natin 'yan.

I found myself in the church where I had my retreat ages ago. Grabe. So much time had passed, ayun, single pa rin ako. LOL. No pressure pa rin, pero intention is shaking and pushing as I am pulling away. Slay. I took vids and photos as well as a ninang na 'di naka-white kasi akala ko nga, hindi ako ninang. LOL. Tinanong ko pa several times sa kapatid ko kasi ready naman 'yung white drip ko tbh. E sabi, oks lang daw kahit ano, pero after ng food coma ko pa narealize na ninang pala ako. Kakabasa kasi ng message ng late and super delayed response, ayan tuloy. As always. LOL. Hindi rin naman kasi importante ang NINANG title. It's just a title. Obviously, hindi siya magiging spoiled sa akin, pero sabi ko nga sa kapatid ko, 'pag wala akong anak o ampon, lahat ng kapurit kong asset and liabilities, lahat sa 2 pamangkins ko rin naman mapupunta. Takte. Hahahaha. So, travel is the key. LELS. Saka pangarap kong pick up, Vespa and beach house with my baby doggos. Tawang-tawa kapatid ko. Mag-anak na raw kasi ako. Sabi ko, okay na ako sa gatas chronicles at binyag souvenirs, for now.

Speaking of binyag souvenirs, natawid din natin ang test market ng ating small project. So, habang pinapamigay niya 'yung "samples" kita ko na agad anong mali. HAHAHAHAHA. Mali talaga noh? Sa marketing kasing dalisay, the more sensorial the experience is, the better and more ensnaring. Perception overrides realities like Potions classes ni Snape. So, ayun na nga. Excited ako kasi more than two birds with one stone na tapos, parang may ilang interested to buy my babies for the holiday vibe ng hindi ako nagbebenta. HAHAHAHHAHA. OPAK. As an online seller, plus 'yan. 'Tong dalawang tatay ko naman, maka-bash nung pinakita 'yung pic namin ni Onuh. LOL. Sabi nung tatay kong totoo: Nak, okay naman. Bagay kayo kaso, parang 'di siya lalaki. Pero sobrang tangkad niya. Ang liit mo lalo tignan. Tapos UP Women's Basketball pa jacket niya, so parang 'di rin ako magkaka-apo na 2 diyan. Me: Dad, you're a dick. Hahahahahaha. Second dad ko naman was like: Eto talaga e. Dami namang options, sungit mo lang talaga. Make your dad proud naman. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Jusko. As a side kwento, nakita namin ni chixxx si Cagulangan after the game with NU kaso as in 'di ko siya makita. Tapos sabi niya tawagin ko raw. Sabi ko next time na, though, sayang 'yun tbh. Hahahaahahaha. At napagalaman kong 21 lang din pala so, parang puwede ko na siyang maging anak as a batang ina. Let's not go there.

Dahil pinaliguan ni dad si Vici and 'yung 2 alpha dogs ng buhay ko, ganado si dad mag-bike bilang parang inaalikabok na Brompton ko. Tawang-tawa ako kasi bilang bobo mag-fold si dad as an Aries, legit na-bend 'yung tire pump na kasama sa bike ko. UGH. Sabi ko, oks lang. 'Wag na init ulo kasi bobo gaming is life. And nagagamit pa naman. Nabili na rin. So, lovemarks na lang talaga 'yun. Imagine, Brompton tire pump, nayupi ng ganun-ganun lang? Hahahahaha.

Actually, kaya ko lang gustong mag-bike kasi happy si Vici ng lumalayas. Kaya lang din ako naka-Brompton maliban sa dream ko siya, kasi, mas banayad ang takbo ko in the name of Vici na steady rides lang ang best sa 4-5 kg body frame niya. I've tried Trek na sumisibat. Sobrang angas tbh, and for sure, Bianchi na isa ko pang choice e hindi aayaw. HOWEVER, gusto ko talagang kasama si Vici sa rides. As in. Iba 'yung happy vibes ko 'pag may wind sa face niya. Hahahaha. As a babaw mamaw girly lang po talaga. My own way of saying thank you to my first dog who saved me 11 years ago some time in December. HUY. Scrooge pa rin ako. Hahahahahaha.

Hassle ng bike ko today. 'Yung core ko is non-existent na pero oks lang. Sana talaga mas ma-instill ko biking sa weekends at sana less ulan na rin until the end of 2023 and pasok ng 2024.

Also, natupad na ang novena ni D&K for me sa pagsama sa Japan sa tamang panahon. Dapat solo-chixx trip ito, kaso sabi ko talaga, ang gusto kong kasama sa Japan this time around is 'yung legit travel buddies ko. Big group ito which namention ko na yata previously, pero not sure pa. Ticket price is hihihihihihihihihihihihihi. And sobrang not expecting that I'd get a booking pa lalo na now. Hyperinflation. Nadama ko talaga na answered prayer ito lalo sa mga tinawid at patuloy kong tinatawid sa 2023, lalo the past weeks. HAY. So, nung nabook 'yung ticket, iyak-iyak talaga ako. Sabi ng dad ko: Baliw na naman siya. Parang Japan lang naman 'yun. Sama ako? Hahahaha. Sagot ko gastos mo. Me: LUH. Ayoko. Pero pag-isipan ko. CHZ. Dama ko rin na gusto lang din ng tatay ko na maiba ang hangin ng paligid ko. Kasi dinibdib ko talaga lahat ng missed flights ko lalo SoKor kasi change budget nung sa ina ko. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Syempre, SoKor can wait. Ina ko ang gastos for her, can not. LOL.

Hindi ito revenge travel, pero more like, something I am sure na magiging memorable. 'Di rin ako sure kung anong mga ganaps ng Japan 2024, pero sure akong ready na ako, direk. CHZ. Sabi nung dad ko, kawaii comments, kumakaway muli. Me: Basic. Matic. Watch me. Tinanong din dad ko bakit 'pag may kawaii comments, 'di ako masungit. Me: Dad, pati mga paslit may kawaii noh? Saka iba kasi sa Japan. GMG. Send rin akong links. HIHIHIHIHI.

Lastly, nag-open up si dad about my ina. HUY. Syempre, nung una, joke lang. Lagi naman e. Tapos, naluha na naman siya. Actually, 'yung dad ko kasi, hindi talaga emotional. Mainitin lang ulo talaga pero sakto lang lagi feeling niya. Parang poker face pero walang iniisip na masama o kakaiba. So, kanina, sabi ko sa kanya na 'di madali. Lalo sa kanya since asawa at ina niya, doble ekis na. Pero, okay lang maging sad. Okay lang umiyak. Okay lang magpabebe sa jowa niyang uhm. LOLOLOLOL. Pero kailangan niyang i-embrace ang tamang grieving process 'di tulad ko noong nawala nanay ko. What's weird and wonderful is nire-recount namin this year 'yung mga naganap sa mom ko, then translate those learnings sa experience namin sa ina ko. LUH. Wounded healers era na ba kami ni dad? OWEEMMM. LUH. Pero, sabi ko nga lagi: The best way is to forgive someone is to let the bad vibes go even when the person never ever said sorry to you. Doing so gives you the power to choose to forgive yourself for allowing the hurt na minsan, akala kasi nung kabila e hindi nakakahurt at all. It's not an easy task. It's a KPI that's worse than a drop na death-defying, but for sure, this KPI is worthwhile in this lifetime and maybe, in the next one, too. HUY.

So, Tuesday na maya-maya. Tambak labada sa bahay pero prio natin ang tambak na labada forda baby milk, biking and booking. Opo. This long weekend has been a really weird and wonderful one. PS: Daming gwapong runners and chixxxx bikers today sa biking spot namin. Also, gwapo nung nag-abot ng package ko sa South din 'to. We The South talaga e. Daming quality leads. LOL. Hahahahahahahaha. Keep 'em coming, universe. And keep me informed... well informed as dense delulu dalisay on training wheels girly.

PS2: Tulo laway na naman dad ko sa Santa Cruz na in fairness, sobrang underrated ng design and set up. Sabi ko naman: 'Yung biker is senior na so, enjoy niya mainam 'yan, dahil life is short. At saka, benta mo na kasi Trek and Marin mo para 'yung dream bike mo pasayo na ng tuluyan habang saktong kalas pa lang tuhod mo, aba. Abangan.

[patrickbromptonhall]

Yoga Retreats: Why Are They Better Than Traditional Vacations?

In the hectic world of today, it is easy to lose yourself in the everyday clamour. Taking a vacation is essential for your overall health. A wellness retreat, which can be a terrific way to unwind, offers an even more immersive and transformative experience than a conventional holiday. People are always looking for ways to relax and get away from their everyday routines in the fast-paced world of today. While many people traditionally prefer traditional vacations, yoga retreats have become an increasingly popular substitute in recent years. Patrick Brompton Hall is an excellent Yoga Retreat House in Yorkshire. They arrange retreats for teachers and wellness facilitators that include yoga, creative activities, strolling, and artistic pursuits. They provide an environment where your group can grow and flourish. In this post, we discuss some benefits that make yoga retreats an excellent option for people looking to escape the daily grind. To continue reading, please visit us at: https://quoraquest.com/yoga-retreats-why-are-they-better-than-a-traditional-vacation/

[bellaphon]

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Saturday.

Aloxe-Corton 1er Cru- Les Fournières, Domaine du Pavillon Albert Bichot 2020. Although far too young to swig now it was immeasurably better than yesterday’s bottle.

Lamb, homemade chickpea stew, spuds and token greens.

.

.

.

#lambchops #springlamb

#winepairing #wine #instawine #vin #vinho #wein #vino #Frenchwine #vindefrance #aloxecorton #bourgogne #vindebourgogne #pinotnoir #jancisglass

#eeeeeats #instafood #londonfood #londoneats 

#bromptonchpt3 #chpt3 #chpt3v4 #mybrompton #brompton #bromptonbicycle #titanium #pline #londoncycling #bromptonlondon

[caesarsaladinn]

So wouldn't it be far better to revert to the old system, common 30 years ago in medicine. I remember as a young house doctor, seeing the now mythical Brompton cocktail  -  a mixture of morphine, brandy and a bit of cocaine  -  being given to patients who wanted to die. Most doctors have been in a situation where a patient is in a lot of pain and the family is distressed, and it was then that we doctors would help a terminally ill patient slip over to the other side. In the small hours of the night, it used to be that you exercised your own judgment. You didn't call a committee. Now, however, medicine has been protocolised. If you don't follow the rules exactly, you get into trouble. That is wrong. So is assisted suicide. It is a dangerous path to take. For my part, I know with certainty that when my time comes, I would rather be in the hands of a doctor than the next case on the agenda of a death committee.

what--holy shit?

Some news from 2010 that I came across while poking around on wikipedia. The Christian Institute writes: Top doctor denounces calls for assisted suicide in UK.

But then you click through to the actual op-ed and the doctor is like, "In the good old days we would just kill patients without asking anybody, now they are trying to add all these rules and committees and protocols"...

[agentbrompton]

[text: Brompton] HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I'd make you a cake but you could make yourself a way better one than I could! Haha! Having a good day?

[text: Sterling] Thank you! Spending the day with my birthday buddy, and he prefers pies anyway. It's a wonderful day. How are you, how is Chen getting along, and how's the wee one doing?

[randomfandomimagine]

The Maze Runner Masterlist

*️⃣ I currently don’t write for this fandom anymore

💫 AU | 🖤 Angst | 💚 Angst With A Happy Ending | 🎄 Christmas | 🐻 Familial | 🌟 Fave | 💛 Fluff | 🎁 Gift | 🎃 Halloween | 💙 Hurt / Comfort | 👤 No Reader Insert | 🌼 Platonic | 🌈 Pride | 🎵 Songfic | 💕 Soulmate AU | ❗ Trigger Warning | 💘 Valentine’s Day

The Maze Runner Masterlist Part 2

Series

Fix You [Newt x Reader] [Finished]

Minho

Headcanons

Dating Minho 

Prompts

“I’m not going to risk my life for you. Deal with your own messes”

“You’ve changed”

“I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it”

“Come out and feel it! This is amazing!”

“Please don’t leave me!”

“He was my Minho…”

“Close your eyes” “I swear, if you do something nasty I’m out of here”

“Finally, today is the day I become who I’m supposed to be”

“Destiny and fate are for the weak”

“Girlfriend says what?”

Oneshots

The Bet // Part 2

Don’t Ever Do That Again

I Won’t Let It Happen 💚

Clumsy 💛

Magnet 

My Girl 

I’m Still The Best // Part 2

He’s A Keeper 💛

Give It A Shot 

Be Careful

You’re A Slinthead 

Don’t You Dare 

Miss You 💛

How To English 

A Hunch 

Too Cute 💛

All I Want For Christmas Is You 🎄💛

Breaking Point 🖤

Shuck Face 

Compass 💛

Other Half

Smoking Hot

It’s A Secret 💛

Newt

Headcanons

Dating Newt 

Helpful Newt 👤

Newt With Glasses 

Newt’s Girlfriend With Glasses 

Newt Finds His Sister 👤

Respectful Newt

Prompts

“Your life is more valuable than mine”

“You are my destruction, I can’t think straight around you”

“If I lost you, I don’t shucking know what I would do”

“If you ever feel like flying again, I’ll be there to catch you”

“You bloody idiot… but bloody cute”

“You bloody look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t bitten like Winston”

“Wow, you’re hot”

“So this is the end of us?”

Oneshots

Can’t Sleep 💙

Panic Attack ❗🖤💙 

Another Girl 💛

Incredibly Patient

Way Too Much 💛

First Day, Greenie 💙

Not Again 

Happy 🖤 // Part 2 💚

Special Cuddles Days 💛

Beacon 💛

You’re Not Weak 💚

My Brompton Cocktail 🎵💚💙

She’ll Chose Me 

Stop Looking At Her 

You’re Safe 🖤💙

Please 🖤

Weakness 

Pure Fire 

Happy Birthday, Love 💛

They Know 

Just An Ordinary Day 

Flower Girl 🖤

Accents 

Open Up 

Too Useful 💛

Newtie 💙

Christmas Gift 🎄💛

Not Scared 🎃💫

Make Up Your Mind 

Angel Of The Glade 

Relax 💫💙💛

Even Better 💫

Together 

Find A Way 💚

My Y/N 

A Shucking Miracle

Welcome To The Family // Part 2: Super Hero 

It’s Perfect 💛

I’m Not Alone ❗🖤💙

Something Beautiful Is Still Alive ❗🎵🖤💙

Just Friends 💫

Don’t Be Afraid // Part 2 💙

I Told You So 

Wrong Place, Wrong Time 

She Has A Boyfriend 

Hangover 

Guardian Angel 🖤

I’ll Always Be Here 💫💚

Not Bloody Jealous 

 Alby

Oneshots

That’s My Job 💛

Walls 💛

Gally

Headcanons

Dating Gally 

Youtuber/Viner Gally 👤

Father/Husband Gally 👤  

Student Gally 👤

Office Gally 👤  

Comedian Gally 👤

Gally Bartender AU 👤

Gally’s Sister Is The Greenie 🐻

Gally On Halloween 

Teacher Gally 👤

Gally Helping The Greenie 

Bully Gally 

Prompts

“Damn, girl. What are you doing later?”

“Wait… You’re a vegan?!”

“Don’t leave me, baby girl”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m staring at your ass. Come do something about it, baby”

“Hold on, don’t let go of my hand. I got you, baby”

“Try acting your age for once, will you?”

“Are you trying to look uglier than usual?”

“Love me, baby!”

“You actually like me?”

“Uh… who’s Mister J?”

“I hate you!” “I know by hate you mean love”

“I am not wearing that!”

“Will my princess please wake up?”

“Just once I want someone to be afraid of losing me”

“Who put you in charge again? That’s right, no one, so shut your shuck mouth”

“Here’s Johnny!”

“Gally, catch me!”

“This is your fault for letting her run! Now I risk losing the only one who-”

“What the shuck is fanfiction?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ugh! Let’s go! We’re leaving in negative six minutes!”

“I told you to stop calling me puddin’!”

“I’ll do anything and everything to protect you”

“Why are you picking on me?”

“Baby girl?”

“I feel like an idiot” “Good, you finally came to your senses”

“What do I want for Christmas? Y/N”

“Sure, Captain Daddy… I mean Captain Gally… Crap!”

Oneshots

Thin Line 

Change of Heart // Part 2

Home 🖤

Smile 💙💛

A Lot 💛

Weak Spot // Part 2 💛

You’re Okay ❗💙

Stay 

She’s Special 🎵

Falling For Him 💛

Love At First Sight 💫

Not Giving Up 🎵

Somebody Else 🎵💚

A Very Special Day 💛

Empty ❗💙

Second Chance 💫

It’s Different 

Take On Me 🎵💫

[jamesv-t]

1, 4, 20, 30

and thx for the numbers

From the football ask post:

1. Which team is ‘your team’?

I follow a couple of teams across a variety of leagues. I've been following Gillingham for nearly 30 years after being taken to a game by my dad and granddad in the mid 90s - having a professional team just half an hour away was handy, and it earned me a grudging respect from (some) fans of Premier League teams that I'd follow my then-local team rather than a big club. It even inspired my long-term username - Jamesthegill is a contraction of "JamestheGillinghamfan" when that proved to be too long a name for an internet forum to handle.

Gillingham didn't have a women's team, so when I got into that side of the game I had no club loyalties to transfer across. This meant that when I was amazed by the German number 22 popping up all over the pitch in their first game, I had no qualms about following her club career further. This started me following Turbine Potsdam, where I could - if you think it's tricky watching the Frauen Bundesliga today, it's much easier than it was seven years ago - and then when she moved to England in 2018, I started following Arsenal WFC as well. Despite her sad retirement, I've had so much fun watching Miedema, Maanum, Cerci and Höbinger that they're still the teams I cheer on.

4. Who is your favourite player currently playing for your team?

Viv for Arsenal, Cerci for Potsdam and it's tricky for Gillingham, as I've been on a three year sabbatical from supporting them (they had a manager who I could not, in good conscience, cheer for - so I took some time away from the club. He got fired two weeks ago, so I'm unfamiliar with the squad!)

20. Is your team’s social media management any good? Why?

Arsenal's is second to none in my experience - having the social media team of a top 6 Premier League club behind them is paying dividends, and we're never starved for content. Gillingham's is pretty good for the level they're at, but I've won two different editions of Football Manager through their social media competitions so I'm slightly biased there!

Potsdam's is atrocious and indicative of the mismanagement of the club itself. For a start the Facebook page is geolocked to Germans only. Twitter and Instagram are slowly picking up but are nothing in comparison to other FBL clubs. Given that a) Turbine are the most successful East German football club and b) an established independent women's club (i.e. not riding the coattails of a men's club) they really have a unique selling point that they're not capitalising on.

30. Do you like your team’s crest?

Gillingham's crest is not overly complicated without being too simplistic - the black and white stripes on the left hark back to the first kit the club played in, as New Brompton FC, and the Kentish Invicta horse is a nice local link - especially with the "Gills" detailing in the mane. It was better when the crest included the club's Latin motto of "Domus Clamantium" ("Home of the shouting men") underneath.

Arsenal's crest looks like a cheap knockoff from a football game that couldn't afford the proper rights.

Turbine's crest has the same local link as Gillingham's (this time with an eagle from the badge of the state of Brandenburg) and the six stars could refer to the six Bundesliga titles won, or the six Oberliga (East German league) wins. The "TP" in the lower right quadrant feels like a placeholder that was accidentally left in, though!

Thanks for the ask!

[londiniumlundene]

Brompton Cemetery

Brompton Cemetery opened in 1840, the sixth of the “Magnificent Seven” garden cemeteries of London, and the most central. It was initially founded as the West London and Westminster Cemetery by architect, inventor and entrepreneur Stephen Geary, who was also the founder of the cemeteries at Highgate and Nunhead. Run at first as a business, it offered grave plots or catacombs in perpetuity to its customers.

The land the cemetery was built on was (unlike most of the other garden cemeteries) rather flat and featureless. To compensate for this, a fortune was spent on designing a building a grand central Anglican chapel, colonnades flanking a central avenue and circle, and a gatehouse designed to resemble a triumphal arch. There were plans for additional chapels for Roman Catholics and Dissenters, but by this point the money had run out. In 1850 the Government gained powers to compulsorily purchase the garden cemeteries, though only Brompton was nationalised; the move was welcomed by the shareholders who had received little return on their investments. The cemetery is now looked after by The Royal Parks – it is not uncommon to see dog walkers and cyclists on the paths.

Perhaps a contributing factor to the commercial failing of Brompton Cemetery was the construction of the catacombs. There was space for thousands of interments, but only around 500 were sold. Despite being cheaper to purchase a catacomb slot than a burial plot, the law required the coffins destined for the catacombs to be metal-lined, which pushed the cost up considerably. The catacombs today are cold, dark and damp, many of the coffins in a state of decay with their outer wooden layers crumbling away.

Better to stay above ground and walk through the well-tended grounds, looking at the grand monuments, and wildlife scurrying and flapping between the graves. Famous residents of the cemetery include Emmeline Pankhurst (she of the suffragettes) and Dr John Snow (he of the cholera and water pump, not he who knows nothing).

[theburgerlist]

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[deathonyourtongue]

You Mean the World to Me

Summary: The house feels like a tomb. Three years to the day, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your black silk blouse and spraying down a flyaway or two with a touch more hair spray. Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader Word Count: 4K Warnings: HEAVY angst. Non-fappable Smut. A/N: Remember when I said this one would get better? I lied. The song for this one is: Freya Ridings - You Mean the World To Me

The house feels like a tomb. Three years to the day, you stand in front of the mirror, smoothing out your black silk blouse and spraying down a flyaway or two with a touch more hair spray. You double-check that your mascara is waterproof, and that your lipstick isn’t on your teeth. 

With a deep, shaking breath, you force yourself to look in the mirror, knowing appearances matter today. It’s why you asked Henry to tie his hair back and trim his beard, if only a little. Though the gathering itself is private, you know better than to think your husband won’t be photographed on the way there and back, despite all effort being made to keep things secret. 

After all, Henry hasn’t been photographed since landing at Heathrow all those years ago, and the public is voracious in its curiosity. 

You give a soft smile to his reflection as he steps up behind you, looking dapper in an all-black suit. Nearly back to the size you remember him being, the only indicators that things have changed for Henry, are so subtle most wouldn’t even notice. Fine lines map the grief on his face, connecting seamlessly to the fetching swaths of gray in his hair, and ink stains beneath his azurite gaze mark the innumerous sleepless nights and long, taxing days. It’s the emptiness, however, that shows the true extent of the damage. Smiles no longer reach his eyes, if they manage to present themselves at all. Words are carefully selected and thoughtfully spoken in a soft, hushed tone that lacks any true animation. 

The man you knew, the one who brought light to every room he entered, has been extinguished and all that remains are the pieces of a heart battered to a pulp by a cruel fate.

No matter how barbaric life has been towards him, however, one thing it has never taken is his gentility. Though Henry goes through the motions in every other area of his life, with you he is painfully tender, doting, and attentive. He goes out of his way to ensure you want for nothing, and he’s never short on the little gestures that move mountains. Each morning you’re awoken with a kiss, and each night he makes sure the sheets are wrapped up around you just how you like. He does everything around the house, leaving you free to heal in your own time, never once so much as asking for help. 

For all the gentleness he exudes, below it lays the torment, and each day it rises, drowning Henry slowly. Just as you notice the tenderness with which he treats you, it’s hard to miss the way he neglects himself. Aside from maintaining his physique (something you’re almost certain he does solely for the benefit of friends and family), he’s given up on almost everything he had a passion for. Figures sit in their original packaging, waiting to be painted. The TV is rarely switched to something he enjoys, forever tuned to your channels instead. Books gather dust, and his riding gear has long been stored away in the recesses of a closet somewhere in the house, never to be seen again. The only thing he still takes a smattering of time to enjoy are his games, and you don’t need to ask to know the ‘why’ behind it. Even a drowning man needs to shut his brain off, and slipping into another world is the easiest way to do so. 

“Ready, my love?” He whispers, your heart breaking all over again for him as you take in the thin line of his lips, pressing tightly into a smile against what you know is a clenched jaw. Henry’s always on the brink of tears and it’s more than evident how hard he fights it for you. 

Today will be harder on him than anyone else, as he never got to say goodbye. Never got to hold the daughter he helped create. Never truly got to grieve her loss. It makes you feel selfish in comparison, though he would never accuse you of such. 

He holds up your black blazer for you to slip your arms through, his hands careful and gentle as they smooth the material over your shoulders. You close your eyes as he opens his mouth to speak again, knowing what’s coming. 

“You look beautiful, darling.” 

It’s hard to understand why he even still cares for you after everything you’ve put him through and the guilt threatens to cut off your air as you turn and gaze up at the man you love more than anything. Straightening his tie, you shake your head, frowning. 

“You don’t need to say nice things to me. Not today.” Lip quivering, you rest your hand over his heart for a moment before walking out of the room, giving Henry the privacy you know he needs to compose himself. His tell is the small vein next to his eye, one that only strains when he can no longer bear to fight. You wish you could make it disappear forever, but you don’t know how. He won’t let you in, won’t let you carry even a pocketful of the load he’s been hauling for years; the weight that’s slowly sinking him past the point of no return. 

Clutching your own heart as you hear him turn on the faucet to mask the sounds of his tears, you wonder, not for the first time, if this gathering won’t be the straw that breaks him for good. Breathing deeply, you fight your own heartbreak, willing yourself to be the rock for once. 

Henry grips your hand tightly in his as you and the rest of the attendants walk briskly through the gates of Brompton, ignoring the cries of photographers, all clamoring to get their first pictures of Henry in three years. His brothers shield you both from the brunt of it, but it still leaves you feeling dizzy and out of sorts, even when you reach the relative privacy of the chapel. 

After regrouping, your small gathering of friends and family head towards the gravestone Henry’s mother had dutifully commissioned and overseen the installation of. Neither of you had any input, you because of the condition you were in, and Henry because he couldn’t even bear to hear it spoken of without having a full panic attack.

Though appropriately small, the onyx headstone brings tears to your eyes immediately, due to the detail in the angel that lays atop it, the artist having mixed the gray stone statue seamlessly with wispy clouds at the top of the polished black granite. It’s the first time you’ve seen your daughter’s name written anywhere, and it instantly knocks the wind from your lungs, leaving you wobbling. 

Henry’s strong arms hold you up until you can find your footing again, tucking you in close to his side as any hope of being the strong one, of fighting against the painful memories is lost. Crying softly into the lapel of his jacket, you wonder how he’s able to hold it together, until you remember that he’s had three years of practice, three years of putting his pain dead last in the list of priorities. Still, it’s impossible to miss the tremor in his hands and the subtle rocking of his body as he valiantly picks up the fight you’ve already lost.

None of the speeches reach your ears, your eyes focused entirely on the gravestone, your mind replaying the sole image of your daughter in your thoughts over and over again. Gripping Henry’s suit tightly, you remember how serene her face was, how perfectly formed in every way she had been; how much you yearned for her to take her first breath and let out a cry. 

As the ceremony ends and the small crowd begins to disperse, you feel Henry pull away, handing you off to one of his brothers with an encouraging nod and words you can barely make out. You don’t fight it, no matter how much you wish he’d let you stay, let you into his grief. If nothing else, he’s earned the right of saying goodbye to the daughter he so longed for, the one he never got to meet, in private. Looking over your shoulder, fresh tears stream down your face as you watch your husband fall to his knees. His scream is silent, one hand gripping his own head in a vice, the other clutching the headstone as though it were a life preserver in a raging sea.  You’ve never seen a man more broken and for the first time, you wonder if Henry will survive this at all. One thought runs through your head on repeat as you’re ushered into one of the black sedans in the small convoy.

He didn’t deserve this. None of it. It was all your fault. 

In the days that follow, Henry’s doting becomes almost unbearable. You walk on eggshells around him and he cares for you like fine crystal, both of you terrified that the other will shatter, never to be repaired. Yet, despite your reticence to be looked after, your growing anger that he won’t let you help in any way, you can’t, in good conscience, keep him from carrying out his daily rituals, knowing it’s all he has. 

Henry treats each kiss from you as though it will be his last, lips lingering on yours just a little longer than necessary. When you hug, it’s as though you’re imbuing him with just enough energy to make it through another day. You quickly realize that aside from you, he has nothing tethering him to life. Despite his family being ever caring and concerned, despite friends doing their best to rally around him, it seems as though Henry is simply waiting to draw his last breath, waiting for his heart to finally give out under all the pressure. The only reason he doesn’t let go is because you’re still here. You wish once more that he would just give over some of his pain, allow himself some small relief, no matter how quickly it came and went.

You catch him crying silently at his computer one morning, his favorite game paused in favor of gazing out the window. Breaths shallow and scratchy, it’s as though each inhale lacerates his windpipe. It’s an image you know will be burned into your memory forever, and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling him into your arms, holding fast as he does his best to wrestle out of your grip in order to wipe his eyes and pretend like everything is fine. 

“What’s the matter, love?” He asks, his voice that of a drowning man, Henry managing to push you far away enough to see your face. The fear and shame in his eyes startles you, but it’s the smile, so tender and compassionate that plunges the knife straight into your heart. 

“Stop this.” You beg, your own tears falling furiously as you cup his face in your hands, despairing when his eyes soften and the kindness in them focuses directly on you. 

“I’m okay, my love. I promise.” Even as he says the words, Henry’s face crumples and the floodgates finally give way. All the fight leaves him and his body goes limp in your arms before every muscle tenses back up as though made of stone.

You hold him tightly as it all comes rushing out, Henry’s keening wail muffled against your sternum, his anguish palpable in a way you’ve never experienced before, even on the night your memory came back to you. 

“Why?” The question leaves his lips like a mantra and at first, you think he’s just asking rhetorically, but when he manages to look up at you, it’s clear he wants an answer. 

“Why did you go through it all alone? Why didn’t you have them call me?” Henry says between gasps for air, his chest heaving as the hurt comes through full force. The realization that he went through three years’ worth of suffering without ever truly knowing why, hammers the knife back into your heart and leaves you momentarily speechless.

“It was my responsibility to keep her safe and I...I failed,” you whimper, the pain simmering through every inch of your chest. “It was the one thing you wanted more than anything, Henry, and I fucked it all up. It was my fault. It was all my fault!” 

He crushes you to him, shaking his head, unwilling to accept the answer as fact. You sob into the crook of his neck, the same panic you’d felt that night coming back in breathtaking speed. Henry’s tenderness radiates in waves, and while his own tears don’t slow, his body relaxes some, secure in the new knowledge he finally possesses. You feel his lips press to the crown of your head, one hand squeezing the nape of your neck gently while the other does laps up and down your spine, Henry putting himself on the back-burner yet again. 

“It was never, ever your fault, my love. The doctor said it would have happened regardless of how closely you’d been monitored. Sometimes life is just cruel, but it was never your fault. I will never blame you for the loss of our child. Never. I just wish...I wish I could have b-been there to h-help you th-through it.” 

The ache in his voice pulls another whimper from your lips and as you finally get your wish and take on some of his burden, you realize how grave an error in judgement you’d made that night. Trying to keep him from the pain of loss had only amplified it exponentially for both of you. 

Days turn to weeks, and little by little, you move back into a familiar comfort with one another. Gone are the eggshells, replaced with wine, movies, and the occasional dance in the kitchen while dinner is cooking. You’re healing, falling in love all over again, but Henry...Henry’s lagging behind. 

Though he no longer hides his bad days from you, and they do indeed get less frequent, you can’t help but notice what seems to be a permanent change in the man you love. Like a soldier after an arduous tour of duty, Henry seems to let life just come at him without any reasonable reaction. Good or bad, he remains placid, eyes always holding the sadness you’re now certain will never truly leave him. Though his smiles get brighter, they still don’t reach his gaze, at times leaving you uncertain of whether he’s genuinely experiencing happiness or just watching it pass him by as though it were a paper boat on a lazy river. 

It's most apparent at night when he watches you get ready for bed. You’ve grown comfortable enough with him that changing in front of him is no longer something to blush about, and though it took a while to get back in the habit, you now do so every night without a second thought. It was silly, really, when you considered that he’d been solely responsible for your care for two years. You were horrified to learn the details of said care, having never wanted to put Henry in such a position, but he’d merely shrugged it off as though it were the most natural thing in the world. 

“It was never a question in my mind, love. You’re my wife. My responsibility is first and foremost to your care and happiness. I couldn’t leave that in the hands of anyone else.”

Disrobing in front of him is about as intimate as you get nowadays, but not for lack of trying. Every little spot you remembered from before has been kissed and caressed in the hopes of rousing him to attention. Each time, Henry will gently stop you, his eyes filled with shame and regret despite the tender smile of understanding. Logically, he knows you want to be intimate again, wants that part of your relationship to come back, but he can’t bring himself to do it, fearing a repeat of history. You know, because it’s the same fear you tamp down each time you try, hoping that this time will be different. 

So when his soft voice breaks through the otherwise-silent room one night, it catches you off guard. 

“Let me see you,” Henry whispers, his expression holding something different in it as you turn to face him. Brow somewhat furrowed, his eyes carry a mixture of awe and longing as he lets his gaze slip over your nude form. Your heart clenches when you see his eyes shimmer with tears, Henry’s mouth parted softly, as though he’s breathing his last. 

Sitting up against the headboard, hands folded in his lap, he smiles fondly as his gaze meets yours once more. You don’t dare speak, letting him have his fill, knowing this the most he’s tried to do in a long, long time. Henry lets out a shaky sigh, and the tears slip down his cheeks, making your heart ache. 

“You’re breathtaking. Simply breathtaking, in every way.” 

Your own lip quivers as you take a step forward, hoping against hope that this is what he needs to heal that much further. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hand, your fingers scratching gently at the beard that’s become more familiar than the once-smooth face you remember. 

Henry laughs softly, and it’s as though the heavens have opened up. Gazing into each other’s eyes, you find the courage to say what’s been on your mind for the last few days. 

“I miss us. I miss making love, Henry. I miss feeling you inside me. More than anything though, I miss us not being afraid of each other like this. I want to try again, Henry. I want another chance at…” You can’t finish, the words turning into the faintest of whispers as you wait for his reaction your own tears sliding down your face. 

“I’m scared. Scared of things going wrong, scared of not being there again.” Henry admits, his voice pinching as he looks up at you helplessly. “Scared that I’ll lose you.” 

“I am too, Henry. But I’m more scared of losing us than anything else. I can handle anything fate wants to throw in our faces if I have you by my side. I know that now. But I can’t sit by and watch our love die because we’re too scared to nurse it back to life after a storm.” 

You’re taken by surprise when Henry reaches up and cups the back of your neck, bringing you down for a tender kiss so filled with desperate yearning, it leaves you breathless. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his lap, deepening the contact. Blindly, you reach up and undo the band holding Henry’s hair in place. You want every part of him to be free, including the wild mane of curls he normally keeps pristinely tied back. It seems to release something inside him because before you know it, you’re on your back and he’s shimmying out of the lounge pants he wears to bed. 

His lips light a path all along your body, desire mixed with a deep-seated longing for the physical intimacy he hasn’t experienced in years. Where most men would have tried to get back at it at the first opportunity, Henry was saintly in his patience, waiting for you to be comfortable, to be ready, to initiate. Turning you down had never been his intention; just a knee-jerk reaction to an overabundance of pain that he’s still trying to cope with. 

Your hands card through his curls as you let him learn your body anew, let him come to terms with his fears as he kisses, licks, and sucks every inch of you. Sounds of relief escape between panting breaths, relief not only that he can still be with you in this way, but that he’s not as broken as he’d assumed. Your own hand sliding down slowly from his hip confirm that at least one of his fears has been assuaged and you don’t miss the flicker of excitement and arousal in his blue eyes as he feels your touch. 

Henry comes back to your lips, kissing with more energy and passion than you’ve felt since waking, each physical display of love mending your heart a little more. Finally, the man you remember is returning. Little by little, your husband, the other half of your soul, is coming back to you. It’s enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes, tears you blink away quickly, not wanting them to ruin the moment. Henry doesn’t miss it however, kissing them away and making you whimper. 

Meeting your gaze, he poses a final question silently, and you can only manage to nod, unable to so much as think of saying no. 

It’s different than you remember; better. He takes his time, his sole focus on your pleasure, even while you’re focused on his. The kisses amplify every thrust, your hips moving as one, connected mind, body, and soul. It isn’t long before your both coated in a thin sheen of sweat, eyes locked on one another as you move towards release together. 

The heated ache at your core only grows as Henry slips your legs over his broad shoulders, intentionally deepening every movement he makes inside you. Mouth parted, you can only watch your husband in awe as he works your body from memory, knowing exactly what feels right. 

It doesn’t take much for either of you to reach your peaks, time away from the primal act causing every sensation to be intensified, and it’s not until your gazes lock once more that you realize you’ll both fall over the edge together.

The gravity of what’s happening hits the two of you immediately after the first wave of pleasure, but it’s too late; there’s nothing to be done for it. You squeeze Henry’s hands, begging him to meet your gaze once more, but his own eyes are tightly shut. 

He keeps them closed as he lifts your right leg over his head, bringing it to join your left at his shoulder. Your tears come unbidden as you realize what he’s doing. 

“Henry!” You squeak out, gripping his hand tighter, beside yourself with the amount of love you feel for your husband, the fear of the future, and the hope that this time, it’ll work out better than it did the first time. 

Henry finally opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before he closes them again, sobbing. His free hand strokes your calf gently, his other shaking in your grip, and when he finally speaks, you can hear the release of his heart as clearly as you’d felt the release of his seed moments earlier. 

“I love you so much! You mean the world to me.”

[the-blackest-spider]

Red, Black and White |Drabble

Continuation from here.

The list was broken down into three sections.

Red: Persons of Interest.

Black: Possible need for elimination.

White: Persons not of immediate interest. Most likely cleared of reasons to be on either of the lists above.

Each list was committed to the Widow’s memory. It took nothing for her to do so, having been taught at a young age you don’t carry intel around on your person. If you are, it’s only because you’re going to make a hand off with it and it isn’t in your possession indefinitely.

She had two flash drives for Isaiah, one being the copy of everything she took off Shepherd that was important and the other, names she wants background checks on or anything he can find.

“Natasha… you know that’s not--”

She waved him off, sitting down her coffee cup, “I know, but as a lawyer, you do have easier access to things like public records.” She watched him sigh and hum-haw about while she resumed drinking her coffee. It wasn’t bad, but Shepherd made better.

“That’s true, but SHIELD has far better files on people, don’t they?” In some ways, Isaiah was of course relieved that his friend and employer was back with the living, in other ways, ashamed of himself he was not.

“They do, but that might involve archives and for the time being I’m keeping my little information gathering on the down low. All the ducks in a row first. I’m taking more caution on this, lives are on the line. One man has already died and I’m not happy about that.”

Clayton Weiss, Clay as she had known him had been a nice guy, and she felt bad she hadn’t gotten to speak with him more, maybe get to know him better. Save him.

“This is bad then… real bad,” Isaiah sighed and took a bite of his pastry, washing it down with some coffee before speaking again, “when do you need the info?”

“As soon as you can manage it. Add it to my private server, the encrypted one. I’ll keep checking it and confirm I’ve seen anything you add.”

“How’s the cat?” Isaiah nodded at the request, it was nothing new. It felt like she had never been dead at all.

“He’s good, a little fatter than what I remember,” Natasha arched a brow at the man across from her.

“Well… he’s hard to say no to, kind of like his owner.”

She couldn’t argue with that, but back to business, “right now I’m more interested in the names in red. They’re people of interest, focus on them first.”

“Color coded?” Isaiah arched a brow.

“Yes. Red, Black and White,” with the last of her coffee drank, Natasha sat back, “I’m sure you can figure out the correlation.”

Isaiah nodded. He could. It’s not his first rodeo after all. “Alright. Guess it’s off to work for both of us then.”

“Yep, and Isaiah,” Natasha looked at him, “please, stay safe. This is big, keep everything between you and me, unless I tell you otherwise.”

“You got it, and hey, do the same. As much of a pain in my ass as you are, I do like you alive, Nat.” The mousy lawyer offered a small smile.

“Aww. I knew you missed me,” The spy grinned, then slid the flash drives across the table, “the smaller one is the lists, the larger, hide it. Under lock and key or code, whichever. Might I suggest your firm’s private safe, no one will think of looking there.”

“Is this why you were incommunicado for two days?” Isaiah stared at the two drives, especially the larger of the two.

“Well, I do like to be as thorough as possible and I was up to my ears in a shit ton of stolen data.”

“Dammit Natasha why’d you have to tell me that? I’m a lawyer remember?” Isaiah sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Client confidentially agreement. Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll be in touch soon, breakfast is on me.”  She stood on that note and placed enough cash on the table to include a tip.

Contents of the Smaller Flash Drive-

Lists are subject to change. Will update if any changes are made and give new list.

Red List - Persons of Interest

Elijah Lawrence Bancroft

Joshua Conall

Gabriel Conall

Mercedes Grayson

Arelette Gatecoeur

Zero - Will look into myself.

Grant Ward - Will look into myself

PDOX - Will look into myself

Roman Nemeth

Eira Teare

Laurel Smiths

Black List - Possible need for elimination

Elijah Lawrence Bancroft

Zero

Grant Ward

Roman Nemeth

Germaine Shepherd - Questionable/May remove.

Laurel Smiths

PDOX

White List - Most likely cleared from lists above

Erikson Sterling

Germaine Shepherd - See Black List

Ray Hartell

Kristi Wiemaer

Hazel Brompton

Clint Barton

Charles Bernard Barton

Maria Hill

Rebecca Chen

Jennifer Juniper Kelly

Jean-Pierre Gatecoeur - ???

Darcy Lewis

Bennett Lewis

Ethan Jones - ???

Dean Winchester

Arianna Grace

Keilan Blake - ???

Julia Lawrence

Henry Kendrick - ???

Daken Akihiro - ???

Phil Coulson

[ashleyvanchu]

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Steering wheel Size

It's ideal to choose your steering wheel measurements based upon how you plan to use your folding bike. The more regularly you'll be actually utilizing social transport, the better it is to go much smaller and also much more compact. You'll wish something with larger steering wheels and also a greater gear variation if you're after long-distance functionality.

Equipment Ratios

Folding bikes usually tend to possess less equipments than a regular bike. This will definitely vary in value based upon what type of riding you'll be actually doing. As not all areas are flat, your bike must have some reduced adequate gears to assist you up capitals. We may gauge the gear ratios of folding bikes making use of gear ins. I have a tendency to recommend a low equipment of about 25 ins which will certainly cover very most inclines. A top gear of around 70 ins is actually alright for the area, but you are going to yearn for more than 100 ins for a higher-performing folding bike.

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Adopting Innovation

How do Rogers' five factors apply to the four products?

Peanut Butter:

Relative advantage: When comparing to homemade peanut butter, this is already made and good texture, making it easy to adopt.

Compatibility: Everyone knows the product, the expectation is standardized

Complexity: Easy to understand

Trialability: Price is low enough for the customer to take a risk

Observability: If it smells good, looks normal, and tastes good, the product passes.

Brompton Bike:

Relative advantage: When comparing other bikes in terms of portability, this has an obvious advantage

Compatibility: It is fit for the use case it was designed for.

Complexity: Too many moving parts, need some learning before setting it up for use.

Trialability: too expensive to try out the product

Observability: If customers did not seek out this bike, they will not understand by it look so strange.

Jigsaw puzzle:

Relative advantage: It is simple to understand. no other relative advantage.

Compatibility: None

Complexity: Simple

Trialability: very inexpensive to try.

Observability: This really base on individual's preference and curiosity levels

PolyTrack:

Relative advantage: This is better than sand floors or grass fields

Compatibility: the material for design with horses in mind. This new product and exist product took great care in considering the well being of the horses during design and construction.

Complexity: Not complex

Trialability: very expensive and risky to try, hard to reverse and undo an install.

Observability: The result can be felt by end user

Which products will reach this market potential rapidly, and why? Which products will reach this market potential slowly (if at all), and why?

1) Peanut butter has the biggest potential to grow rapidly because the product is easy to understand, and it already has a wide receptive audience. Most people around the world know what peanut butter is or have personal experiences with it.

2) Polytrack or the Brompton Bike will have the least traction. There are only several racing tracks around the world. More race operators are too concerned about how the track will affect the race. It won't be easy to break into conservative market spaces.

While I have a Brompton Bike myself, I know I am part of a niche group of Brompton die-hards. I think the complexity of maintenance and effort need to configure many moving parts of the bike does not allow it to be an everyday bike for most people. The Brompton is still considered a niche bike today, proves that it is unable to scale quickly.