#domestic electrical cables

[shyamcables]

Safety Precautions For Your House Wiring Connections

[seat-safety-switch]

Imperator Butterpants, my charge for the weekend, had treed a squirrel in the park. Normally, I would help out the dog - that’s what is humans are for - but there’s a complication. A nearby toddler birthday party would be ruined by the sight of my aunt’s Pomeranian ripping a domestic rodent in half for fun. That’s the tragedy of the commons, right there. Exactly what Plato was talking about.

As a result, I squat gently and prepare myself to pick up the dog in a caring embrace. This feels natural, comforting. I am communing with my ancestors who tamed his ancestors, and in a moment I will have experienced the sensation of another living thing obeying my demands. Nothing doing. Butterpants turns around, snaps at my face, and dislodges my 3M Tekk P100 respiratory-particulate-protection bayonet fitting mask slightly. We are going home, I declare to a dog that does not understand English.

Luckily for me, I have prepared a vessel for transporting the dog. It is a sidecar consisting of an old bumper car, hastily welded with leftover Home Depot fence strapping (don't worry, I ground off most of the galvanization) to the side of a Razor Pocket Mod child's electric scooter. Well, I say "child's," but we both know that's some bullshit that I trot out to make the cop think it's impossible that I break the speed limit on this pink piece of plastic. In actuality, I know that there is no way that the officer is tuned-in enough to electronic engineering to realize that the several hundred pounds of lithium ion phosphate pouch batteries ziptied together under the seat is easily enough stored energy to launch this thing into low earth orbit should I decide to whack the throttle bare open. Plus, it means I can ride in the bike lane, which is good. Have you seen what kind of maniacs drive cars?

Despite what I just told you, I pin the throttle nonetheless, knowing that the aggregate resistance of the battery cables momentarily turning to a liquid will act as a sort of dynamic throttle control. We are off, both figuratively and literally. You might have encountered in the past a dog wearing "doggles," which is a portmanteau of the word "dog" and "goggles." Eye protection for dogs is absolutely critical at these kinds of velocities, and it is for that reason that I have placed a welding mask on the muzzle of my aunt's dog, protecting him from impacts with bugs, gravel, and other multi-use-pathway users.

We get home in quite a hurry, so much so that I have to use my neighbour's garden hose to extinguish the foam-rubber tires bonded to the rear hub motor. Imperator Butterpants is dazed initially, having reached a land speed formerly only attempted by dogs named Laika, but soon recovers. And, hey! We got that squirrel after all, although I'm pretty sure I'll have to peel it off of the welding mask and run it through a strainer before I can put it in with his Ol' Roy.

[filibusterfrog]

Is owning an ekkie difficult? what should you know about ekkie’s before getting one?

first off, as with all parrots i would NOT encourage you buy one as a pet. Theyre not domesticated and i dont think they should be bred and sold as pets, so if you can, get a rescue, or dont get one at all as they are a massive, massive commitment. (i have monty, hes a rescue,i love him. if i could put him back in the wild and be sure hed be able to survive, id put him there)

that said, its up to you. ill put some bird/eclectus care stuff under the readmore

necessary things to have on your part:

-a job and social life that allow you to spend hours at home with your ekkie, training them and giving them attention- training is necessary to keep them happy and mentally healthy and it also will really assist the two of you bonding :>

- the budget to provide them with a serving of fruits+vegetables twice a day. An all seed diet will kill an eclectus, as they are fruit eaters (do not feed avocado, rhubarb, chocolate or things containing caffeine. birds are lactose intolerant afaik. consult google for full list of what not to feed a parrot. human spit is also toxic)

-willing to commit 30+ years of your life to this -budget for toys

-budget for annual exotic pet vet visits (NOT CHEAP!)

-acceptance that eclectuses dont really like scritches. theyre strange like this, do not force scritches upon them. kisses are fine

-love and patience, theyre intelligent animals and they can give you the runaround, or bite, or destroy a beloved possession. the cheekiness is part of the fun a lot of the time.

great things about ekkies (can only speak for my experience with monty who is male, ive heard females can be different, and of course every bird is a little bit different so milage may vary):

-generally quiet, but very able to chat up a storm when something interesting is afoot

-loving and caring but in a beaky kind of way

-i don’t believe theyre usually ‘single person’ birds, and have it in them to love a whole gaggle of people. monty loves parties.

-very smart. enjoys a puzzle treat box

-sooooo cheeky

DO NOT:

-stroke a birds back or under the wings. it’ll make them horny and frustrated

-let it sit in the cage alone for hours and hours with no engagement. toys and time with you are essential

-let it stay up too late. too many hours of light make a bird horny and frustrated

-let it have access to electrical cables, copper toys, anything Not Bird Safe.

ive probably missed something important, if i have feel free to add on in the replies

[iwritetopassthetime]

have yourself a marry little christmas

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!reader

Part of my home to you universe // Masterlist

Wordcount: 11K

Summary: The festive season is in its hight in Bradley and Blossom's new house. The couple is ready to welcome Christmas with family and friends, revive old traditions and create new ones. With nothing but happiness on the horizon, the pair is sure to have a memorable first Christmas.

Warnings: domestic fluff with our favourite pair, Bradley in grey sweats, shameless festive smut, oral sex (m receiving), sub!Bradley if you squint, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, smidge of daddy kink and breeding kink, creampie, let me know if I've missed anything

6 December, 19 days till Christmas

All week the weather had made everyone in their pompously glittering houses just a little Christmas-y. Of course, the temperatures in Southern California could never drop low enough to merit a knee-high snowfall, or black ice on the roads and pavements, but it was chilly enough to make everyone pull the coats and fuzzy scarves from their closets. 

Christmas tunes were drifting slowly through the beautiful, almost fully decorated Mediterranean-style home. So far it was the only house on the block that hadn’t gone all out in terms of lights and decorations. But the light-up snowman on the front lawn and the twinkling lights that spanned the length of the eaves, were decoration enough for the happy couple that had moved in about a month ago.

Upon walking up to the dark wood door in the arched entryway, one would be greeted by a simple, but stylishly handcrafted wreath. The twisted branches and evergreen vines were dusted with false snow which made the red of the holly fruit all the more striking. 

Then further inside, in the small entry hall, the accent table where you and Bradley would drop your keys upon entering was cluttered with old Christmas cards and small ornaments to amplify the holiday feeling. The door to the walk-in closet was adorned by another wreath, albeit smaller and even less ostentatious than the first.

It was older, a family heirloom like the many other trinkets that were going up on walls and doors as part of your very first Christmas season as a couple.

Finally, a long pine branch garland paired with tiny warm white lights twisted itself around the bannister to the first floor and guided the way up to where the bedrooms were located. 

Immediately to the left from the entry hall, through another arched doorway, was the living room where, it seemed, the beating heart of all this Christmas excitement was steadily thrumming.

Boxes, both old and new, littered the floor and couch, each carton lid sporting a different title in a neat blocky handwriting. Those being the last ones to leave the storage compartment where all of Bradley’s family’s belongings had been kept. Decorations were laying across the available surfaces, ready to be either given a proper place or put back in storage. 

And the piece-de-resistance in this room was the yet star-less Christmas tree that was standing in front of the three large windows facing the street, showing off its twinkling lights to any passerby. 

The electric flames in the faux fireplace seemingly danced to Michael Bublé’s baritone coming from the festive playlist as a string of colourful lights dangled over it. The cable was still half-tangled between your fingers as you balanced on top of a chair in front of the fireplace, trying to hoist the lights over the painting of the sea you got as a move-in present from Penny and Mav which sat above the mantlepiece. 

A roll of masking tape hung between your lips and a pair of scissors were tucked inside the pocket of your leggings. Neither was going be used any time soon as you just couldn’t seem to reach high enough to hook the other end of the cable over the damn frame.

You lifted one leg, feeling the chair wobble a little. ‘Shit.’ You stepped back and scoffed at your unfinished work. Bradley had done most of the things that required the extra inches (that you lacked), but with him in the shower you’d given yourself the task to try and finish setting the lights up.

And obviously, you were failing at that miserably.

‘Hey, hey, hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ You felt Bradley’s hands reach for your hips from behind at the same time as his voice came rushing from the doorway.

He made sure you were stable on top of the chair before you he turned you around to face him. ‘I thought you were going to let me deal with the lights, baby.’

‘Yeah, but I thought I’d manage it,’ you explained, untangling the balled-up string of lights in your hands. ‘Stupid painting isn’t cooperating.’

Bradley chuckled, his hands on your hips gently squeezing your sides. His thumbs slipped beneath the edge of your crop top and rubbed short crescent shapes into your skin. You placed your own hand on his face, cupping his cheeks in your small palms and bringing his face closer to yourself. Still on the chair, you were barely half a head higher than him. 

His hair was still a little damp, ends sticking out at all directions after he most likely towelled it dry. His skin was flushed from the heat of his shower. His face had a thin sheen over it with the remnants of the cleanser and facial creams you’d taught him to use. Bradley was not all that vain, but he had seemed to gladly accept any tips on self-care from you. That included everything from skincare to dietary tidbits. 

You were this close to getting him to switch entirely to oat milk, but he was still taking his coffee with that powdered creamer that made you gag. After seeing the back of the box and the list of “ingredients”, you were convinced that the creamer was called such for appearances only. The general idea of milk relied solely on it being mentioned in the list of flavourings.  

You looked further down at his tight black T-shirt and the pair of grey sweats that although loose still outlined his strong, muscular thighs and… all else.

You smirked to yourself, appreciative of your absolute favourite article of clothing Bradley owned, took a tiny step over the chair seat to move closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

‘You’re looking nice,’ you comment slyly, your eyes darting between his own and the sweats. ‘Looking, uh… real comfortable.’

‘Yeah…’ Bradley briefly glanced down at his clothes and as far as one could see he hadn’t seemed to grasp the extent of your interest in his choice of clothing. ‘Just threw these on so we could finish decorating, but I’ll put something nice for the date.’

‘No, no, no,’ you hastily interjected. 

You drummed your fingers on his shoulders and bit on the plushiest part of your bottom lip, stifling that ever growing smirk. With one finger you trailed a line down from his shoulder to the centre of his chest, just at the middle of his sternum. 

‘I’m just,’ you pursed your lips and gave an exaggeratedly pointed look towards his lower half, ‘showing appreciation.’

Bradley threw his head back in laughter. Your hands on his shoulder and chest shook with the force of his chuckle. He took a step forward to fully sever the distance between the two of you and wrapped his hands around the small of your back. You leaned slightly back into his tender but firm hold. 

To be entirely honest the slight possessiveness of it always managed to get you all fluttery inside.

‘Well, I guess it’s like with guys and sundresses. Right?’

You nodded, ‘Pretty much. You just… you look delicious in these.’

‘Yeah?’ Bradley chuckled, his eyes darkening at your not so innocent insinuation. 

His hands slid down your waist to the underside of your ass, lifting you without so much as a twinge of discomfort from the chair. You felt your pussy flutter as slick began to pool onto your panties. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, ankles locked at the small of his back so as to keep you as close to him as you could. Your slit came to rub against the top of Bradley’s abdomen which was a welcome friction, but certainly not the kind you were now growing desperate for. 

‘And you wanna know what else…’ Bradley murmured against the shell of your ear and it caused another flutter to go through you and peak at the apex of your thighs. ‘I decided to go commando.’

You whimpered. Was he trying to kill you? 

You rolled your hips into his hold, trying to rub against his lower belly and possibly urge him to prove his words by showing you. Bradley, however, seemed to have a different idea because he lowered you down on the ground and reached behind you for the line of Christmas lights that was hanging off of the mantlepiece. 

‘Come on, I’ll finish setting up the lights.’

‘Wait, wait, wait!’ You halted him, still incredibly turned on and with your face several degrees warmer. ‘Bradley!’

He turned back to you and leaned down to kiss away the pout from your lips. ‘Let’s finish this first.’

‘We can always finish it tomorrow,’ you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. 

‘Nuh-uh, we need to finish it today.’

Bradley had been adamant that one of the Christmas traditions he wanted to revive from his childhood was decorating on St Nicholas day. His mum had been a somewhat devout Catholic and had kept with certain traditions she felt were important to her.

Many of those traditions and beliefs had been, of course, passed down onto Bradley and you genuinely loved that he wanted to start doing them again with you. 

It made you two moving in together and being together all the more significant. He was making you a part of his family traditions, as were you. You were weaving each other’s familial pasts into a present and a future where there was no his or hers. There was only ours, together as one. 

It made you love him even more.

‘I’ll put up these lights,’ Bradley began. ‘You can check those boxes over there for the tree topper, it should be with the other ornaments. We’ll put it up together and then we’ll have some time to kill before going to the Christmas market. How’s that sound?’

You pursed your lips, considering his proposition. ‘You better be really, really naked underneath those sweats, Lieutenant.’

Bradley laughed again and kissed your forehead before climbing onto the chair to put up the lights. 

You made your way to the small mountain of boxes on the couch, digging through years and years of family Christmases and holidays and looking for anything resembling the ornament you were looking for. 

After a few minutes of searching, you caught a glimpse of a white and gold point. You reached for it, turning over other pieces of decoration and memorabilia in the cardboard box to pull out a very beautiful Christmas tree topper. 

The little rhinestones reflected the surrounding lights which made the star appear as if it was actually shining. There were some specks of dirt and dust given that it had spent nearly two decades in a storage compartment, so you grabbed a rag from the coffee table to give it a very light scrub. 

You wanted to make sure you wouldn’t damage a single stone on the piece.

Feeling Bradley’s hands come up to your waist from behind once more, you looked back at him with a comfortable smile. You noticed the rhythmic twinkling of red, green, yellow and blue over his shoulder and you fully twisted your body around to look at the finished work. 

‘Oh, Bradley,’ you said softly, ‘they look fantastic.’

He turned with you and wrapped his arms around you, laying a soft kiss on your temple. 

‘They’re all pretty well levelled, right?’

A long line climbed up the wall, then broke into neat half-crescent moons across the top half, surrounded the painting above the fireplace, continued off in those rounded shapes and dropped back down the wall to connect to the power outlet behind the Christmas tree. This way, all cables would be hidden from view and wouldn’t be a tripping hazard. 

‘They look fantastic!’

Bradley kissed your temple once more before gently urging you forward towards the Christmas tree. The lights, tinsel and baubles were already set up in a beautiful arrangement that kept up with the fairly minimalist style of your decoration.

Both you and Bradley agreed that an elephantine amount of festive ornamentation inside and outside the house would a) be too much for either of your tastes, and b) would make your electricity bill go through the roof. And neither of you wanted your Christmas to be ruined.

Bradley bent down to loop his arm behind your hips, lifting you easily off of the ground again. You shrieked with laughter as Bradley inched both of you closer to the tree. You reached up and placed the star-shaped topped at the very peak of the fake pine tree. 

And your hard work was rewarded by the joyful feeling of finally having completed your festive decorating. 

Bradley lowered you back on the ground and wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired the fully decorated tree. Christmas tunes continued to drone in the background. Bradley swayed you left and right, singing softly the words of the song in your ear. 

He nipped at the skin below it, making you let out a sound that was something between a giggle and a moan. His hand on your waist curled to bring your body around and press it against his own. 

‘Are you still interested to see what’s in my grey sweats?’ He asked you sultrily. 

‘Oh, I’m pretty sure I can feel it,’ you replied. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a much needed kiss. 

The twinkling Christmas lights casted a lovely, romantic glow on the two of you as your bodies moved clumsily in the direction of the couch. 

You pushed Bradley down first and eagerly climbed into his lap. Your knee knocked into a cardboard box and accidentally sent it flying down to the ground, it’s contents spilling out onto the large Egyptian rug. 

‘Right, we might need to tidy up first,’ you said with no small amount of dejection. 

You were more interested in keeping up with your current activities, growing wetter by the second as you felt the hard ridge of Bradley’s cock nestling perfectly against your slit. But you also knew perfectly well neither of you would be comfortable on the couch with how cluttered it was.

‘Quickly.’ Bradley instructed. ‘And then we go back to your exploration.’

You cackled at his evident excitement. You got up from his lap and gave a mock salute, ‘Right away, Lieutenant.’

You bent down to pick up the contents of box you had knocked over while Bradley started to collect the ones on the couch and coffee table, hoisting them into his arms and carrying them off to the bottom floor closet for temporary storage. You picked up pieces of old newspapers the were used to cushion the more delicate ornaments, placing each carefully in the box.

Then you foot knocked against something more solid and you looked down to find the edge of what looked like an album that was bound in dark red leather. 

You reached down to grasp its edge and picked it up. It didn’t have anything written on the cover so you tentatively flipped it open to find pictures that were meticulously taped two-a-page. And under every picture there was a brief caption and a date. 

The handwriting was beautiful. Each letter and digit was like a work of art by itself. It was definitely a feminine hand; you’d seen Bradley write stuff down numerous times and he was perhaps a few degrees off from having a doctor's penmanship. 

The first two pictures were of what looked like a table set up with Christmas dinner, the title and date confirming your conclusion. The next two were different snapshots of some people who you didn’t recognise until you turned the leaf and your eyes landed on a picture of two very familiar women. 

One was Sarah, much younger and with her wild, curly hair styled in a side parting. She was wearing an incredibly ugly Christmas jumper that matched the one the woman next to her wore. 

Bradley’s mum.

Carole’s face was split in half by a massive beam that shined through the very picture. Her arm was thrown over Sarah’s shoulder, pulling her in a half hug. The photo just below it was similar — Sarah and Carole being the only two characters present. It seemed as if Carole was saying something to whoever was taking the photo, pointing a finger at them. 

‘Oh my god, where did you find this?’

Bradley looked down at the album over your shoulder. His eyes were wide with surprise and the edges of his mouth were pulling into a grin. He lifted his hand and lowered it gently onto the album’s page. 

‘It was in the box I knocked over,’ you explained.

‘Christ, I remember that Christmas. Mom had invited the whole gang,’ he explained and flipped over to the next page.

There were four photos of Maverick and a blond man who was taller and bigger than him, but still very much lean. The caption said Maverick and Iceman. 

So that was Sarah’s husband, Tom…

‘Look at uncle Ice.’ 

Bradley’s smile grew, most likely going into that place in his mind where his most treasured memories lay. His eyes began to glisten when he looked at the fourth picture — his mother was squeezed between the two aviators, the three of them frozen in laughter. 

You hummed, unable to find anything useful to say. The dates on the pictures suggested it was the Christmas a couple years or so prior to Carole’s passing. It was surely something that brought no small amount of anguish to your boyfriend at the moment. 

Then you flipped onto the next page of the album and couldn’t contain the roar of laughter that escaped you.

There were two pictures of Bradley. One of him on his own, the other of him a whole head and a half taller that his dear mother, but that wasn’t what made you laugh. No, Bradley’s hair was short, styled in spikes with what seemed like copious amounts of gel and he… had frosted tips!

You snorted, trying to contain your giggles. Your whole body shook with the force of your laughter.

‘Look at you hair!’

Bradley tried to grab the album from your hands, but you ran away from him and flipped through it for more compromising pictures.

‘Give it here!’

‘No, oh my!’ You laughed harder when you saw a picture that Bradley had obviously taken of himself in a bathroom mirror, proudly showing off the atrocious hairstyle. ‘W-what?!’

‘It was fashionable!’ Bradley defended when he managed to reach you and tackle you in a hug, prying the album from your hands. ‘And I wasn’t the only guy in high school with that haircut, I’ll tell you that.’ 

Bradley dropped the album onto the coffee table and stood between it and you, his hands holding your upper arms delicately. Tears had sprung in the corners of your eyes, your shoulders still shook and you could barely keep from laughing. When your laughter had turned to steady giggling, you looked up at Bradley, giving you an exaggerated pout.

‘Aw, baby!’ You reached up to hold his face and lifted yourself onto your tippy toes to kiss his protruding bottom lip. ‘I didn’t mean to laugh that hard. I think you actually looked quite, um… charming?’

‘I was actually.’ Bradley softened, a deep blush painting his cheeks that was visible even in the dim lighting of the living room. 

‘Did you do it for a girl or…?’

Bradley scratched the back of his head. ‘Rose Jennings. She was the grade above me, I had a crush on her. Her ex boyfriend had the same hairstyle so I thought she’d like me if I did the same.’

There was something so adorably moronic about him adopting a new style — one that even in the nineties through early naughties was a choice — all to impress a girl. One could put it down as simply teenage foolishness, but you thought it was stupidly sweet. To think that this hunk of a man was once a pining young boy, ready to change his entire appearance at the drop of a hat — all for a crush. 

Sweet, but very stupidly so.

‘Oh, no. Did Rose Jennings not like it then?’

‘Well, she didn’t date me,’ Bradley admitted almost shyly. ‘But we did almost go to third base under the bleachers.’ 

‘Woo hoo!’ You fist pumped the air. 

‘It was stupid. I never thought you’d find pictures of me from that time.’

You let out a curt giggle and buried your face in his chest to calm down. ‘The idea of it is starting to grow on me. Have you thought of doing your hair like that again?’

‘God, no!’ Bradley’s chest rumbled with the power of his baritone. You lifted your head and looked at him quizzically. 

So even he agreed that that had been a choice.

‘Well, you never know. You could bring that style back. I might let you hit home run since Rose Jennings didn’t give you the same curtesy.’

Bradley rolled his eyes playfully. ‘She did give me a half-handjob.’

‘A half-handjob? What’s that, over-the-jeans action?’

Bradley nodded and it was now your turn to give him a pout. This revelation, however, gave you an idea. A brilliant way to combine your previous conversation, your minuscule obsession with his grey sweats, and this new piece of information. 

Your mouth filled with saliva when the idea began to form more solidly in your mind’s eye.

‘Let me imagine you like that for a sec.’ You whispered and made a show of closing your eyes whilst rubbing your temples to conjure the image of Bradley with that horrible hairstyle.

You snorted out another bout of laughter, but remained laser focused on your plan. ‘Okay, okay…’

You let your hands rest on his chest and slowly caress his pecks, searching for the peaks of his nipples. The pert buds began to engorge beneath your touch and you swore you could feel the goosebumps sprouting across Bradley’s skin.

Your hands began moving lower and lower, your nails coming to gently scratch against his stomach. You sneaked your hands underneath, feeling your way across his soft stomach.

You remembered how Bradley had complained about losing his six-pack some weeks ago and you had made it your mission to convince him just how much you enjoyed that extra fluff. 

Looking up towards his face, you found his eyes fluttering the moments your fingers teased against the waistband of his sweats. You smiled to yourself, feeling Bradley’s hands bury themselves in the short locks of hair at the back of your head. 

Deliberately slow and tender, you kissed his neck — right above the small scar he had on there — before letting your teeth sink into the soft flesh, marking him as your own. 

Bradley’s head fell onto your shoulder and he let out a litany of whimpered moans. You pressed your lips against his earlobe, whispering. ‘I know I’m not Rose Jennings—’

‘Y-you’re better,’ Bradley rushed, breathless.

‘I know. And I’ll show you just how I would’ve showed my appreciation.’

Taking a tiny step back from him, you gave yourself enough space to kneel down in front of Bradley while keeping your hands on his hips. Your fingers hooked underneath the waistband of his sweats and before you pulled them down, you looked back up towards Bradley to make sure you weren’t doing anything he didn’t like or want. 

But seeing his lust-blown eyes, the complete desperation in them, you knew that stopping now would be more of a torture than anything else. 

You slowly pulled his sweats down. His half-hard cock sprang free from its confines, slapping against his left upper thigh. The head was a shade of red that was growing in intensity by the second, appearing almost purple the longer you sat there and did nothing more than take him by the base and give him a couple of lazy strokes.

‘H-happy?’ Bradley rasped.

‘Hm?’

He licked his lips. ‘Told you I went commando.’

You smirked, lowering your lips to the head of his cock and giving it a kitten lick that had Bradley shuddering. You licked the tip again, feeling the salty taste of precum gather on your tongue. 

The taste of him was addictive!

‘I knew already. Do you think your own girlfriend would miss the fact that you’re wearing grey sweatpants and nothing underneath?’

‘I guess no— Oh! F-fuck, Blossom!’

Bradley gasped, his head falling back, when you finally spared him from the torture and wrapped your lips around his cock. Your hand at the base began to pump him slowly, working his length at the bottom while you mouth lathered him up in saliva and precum at the top. 

You lifted your eyes briefly, looking up at Bradley through the thick curtain of your eyelashes. His bottom lip was firmly lodged between his teeth, biting down on it so hard you were positive once you rose up to kiss him you’d feel the distinct coppery taste of blood on your tongue. 

Bradley’s eyebrows were furrowed and eyes fluttered shut as his hips rolled once to meet the heat of your open mouth.

You choked back a little at the sudden intrusion, moaning deep in your throat which only seemed to excite Bradley more. One of his hands came down to your head, finding purchase at the back of it to gather your short locks in a firm hold and pull at it briefly. 

You loved when he pulled your hair during sex; it had taken both of you some time to figure out how to build your sense of security in the bedroom which included slightly risky things like hair pulling and choking. Bradley had been patient and maybe too careful, but you had a safe word established and practiced plenty and regularly.

Now there was nothing you loved more than having Bradley grab you by the hair when you went down on him, or even grab your throat and squeeze when he was fucking you like a madman. 

His fingers were buried in your soft hair, guiding your head up and down his length. You relaxed your throat and opened wider. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat a smidge too hard on one of his thrusts and you gagged around it, drool dripping down your chin which most likely made for a pretty erotic sight because Bradley’s moans were growing louder.

He sounded completely wrecked. 

Your free hand came around his thighs to grab at his buttocks and pull him even further into your throat. You bobbed your head faster and the most debauched sounds fell past your lips, gliding down your bottom lip and chin with your drool.

‘Fuck, baby! Yes, yes,’ Bradley babbled. ‘Fuck, I love this mouth, love this mouth so much! God, if you could just— fuck, see yourself right now… ngh, fucking gorgeous. With my cock in your mouth, baby.’

You relished in the incoherent praise and doubled down on your efforts, trying to take more and more of him in your mouth. You felt every engorged vein, every ridge of him against your tongue as you slid his cock in and out of your mouth. 

Bradley’s voice rose in octaves and completely overtook the persistent hum of the Christmas playlist. His chin was pressed against his chest as he gazed down at you through half-lidded eyes, but even so you could see his soft brown irises had turned dark with desire. 

‘Fuck, my beautiful girl. My gorgeous, gorgeous girl. I love you, I fucking love you, baby.’ He groaned louder when you twisted your hand at the base of his cock as you dragged it up and then down. 

You moaned around his length in response, gagging and tearing up at the strain in your throat but you kept at it. The pain was more pleasure than pain. And if it meant seeing Bradley fall completely apart, unable to even keep standing on his own two feet, then you’d take it all.

‘Oh, I’m gonna come,’ Bradley whimpered. ‘Can I come in your mouth, baby? Can I— fuck!’

You lifted your head so only the tip of his cock rested against your tongue. Your saliva-soaked hand kept jerking him closer and closer to completion. 

‘Come, Bradley. Come in my mouth.’

His head fell back as a strangled groan ripped out of his chest. His hand in your hair fisted it harder as you worked him through his orgasm, ropes of cum flying into your open mouth and filling it with that familiar salty taste.

Bradley lowered his hand from your hair to your chin and lifted your face so he could see you better. You made a show of showing him your filled mouth and swallowing down his seed with an exaggerated gulp that had him groaning once more. 

‘Fuck, Blossom. You little minx.’

You helped him by lifting the waistband of his sweats and covering him back up, the alluring sight of his softening cock being the last thing you see before the grey material covered it again. It allowed for an equally alluring sight of that same cock outlined by the cotton material. 

Bradley caressed your chin affectionately, humming in approval when you wiped the remnants of drool from your chin and got up. He helped you by holding your arm and once you were upright once more, he lowered his lips to capture yours in a kiss that had such depth you thought he’d merge himself to you.

‘Was I better than Rose Jennings?’

Bradley huffed, ‘I can’t even remember who that was.’

Your softly murmured good boy was met with a visible shudder on his part. He dipped down for another kiss that rewarded both of you. 

‘Come,’ he urged gently when the two of you separated, a line of spit being the only thing still connecting your lips. ‘Let’s get dressed and head to the Christmas market before I fuck you on this couch.’

‘We can do both in succession if you’d like.’

The Uber driver dropped you off at the entrance of the market, wishing you both a merry Christmas. Like a true gentleman, Bradley helped you out of the car and thanked the man once again before gently pushing the door shut. He entwined your gloved fingers with his bare ones as the two of you made your way through the maze of huts.  

The alpine-style structures offered the ultimate Christmas atmosphere. They were adorned with small lanterns and plush fake snow. The vendors wore red and white hats with bells at the end that jingled with each of their move. And at the end of the first row, there was a sign directing you to each part of the Christmas market. 

‘Oh, we should grab a bite to eat at the bratwurst hut,’ you suggested excitedly. ‘And drink gluhwein. And then we can see about getting some presents for the family.’

Bradley let you lead the way. ‘I’m down for all that. I wanna check out the skating rink, if you’re up for it.’

You considered the proposition for a moment. Ice skating had never been something you were good at, being slightly clumsy in general meant that unstable surfaces were even more of a hinderance to your walking — or even standing — abilities.

‘I’m willing to give it a go,’ you told him. ‘But if I fall and bruise my ass—’

‘I’ll gladly kiss it.’

‘Ew, Bradley!’

He laughed good-naturedly when you slapped his chest. ‘Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t like that.’

You raised a brow and lowered your voice to a whisper. ‘Are we really considering public sex?’

‘We already did that, baby.’ Bradley’s lips pulled in a triumphant smirk as he led you in the direction of the bratwurst hut. ‘Halloween night at the Hard Deck.’

‘That doesn’t count,’ you retorted.

On Halloween, Bradley had wanted to improve your mood after the disappointing start of your house hunting. The two of you had gotten slightly drunk on Margaritas and one too many Jäger bombs. At some point during the night, you had snuck into the men’s toilets and stumbled into a stall to enjoy some risky behaviour. 

‘It totally counts,’ Bradley argued as the two of your joined the queue in front of the hut that was maybe a little too heavy on the lederhosen-wearing cartoon sausages. But the sound of crackling meat and smell of spices made up for the gaudy decor.

Mindful of the random people that surrounded you, Bradley lowered his voice too. ‘The guys walked in on us, remember? Bagman even barged in our stall.’

You chuckled, ‘Okay, okay. They didn’t see much thought. I was wearing that long black dress on so we were both pretty covered.’

‘Mmm, you did look really hot as Rhaenyra Targaryen.’ Bradley leaned down to kiss the corner of her jaw and she swatted him away. ‘Bouncing in my lap like a cock-hungry slut.’

‘Shush!’ Despite the nippy December wind, you felt your entire face grow hot at his teasing. ‘And it certainly didn’t help that we’d shotgunned that joint beforehand.’

‘Don’t know, made everything a bit more… colourful, didn’t it.’

You looked up at him with a small smirk. There was a certain mischievous glint in his eye that was hardened by the vivid Christmas lights surrounding you. If you knew he’d be in such a mood after the fun you’d had back home, you’d known to give it even more effort. You loved seeing Bradley so relaxed and yes, even his bouts of extreme horniness that always seemed to flourish in inappropriate times and places was a part of him you adored. 

‘I’m not sure about the wursts anymore,’ you told him with a joking lilt to your voice. Bradley raised his eyebrows and inquired as to your meaning. ‘Me, gobbling down a sausage. Don’t wanna give you ideas.’

Bradley barked out a laugh which startled the old couple standing in the queue in front of you. He apologised through a fit of giggles that had you hiding your mouth behind your gloved fingers to stifle your own laughter. The elderly woman who had her arm around her husband’s smiled at you both, assuring you it was fine and complimented you on what a charming couple you two make. 

The rest of the evening was spent going from hut to hut, trying different festive delicacies and drinks. Two mulled wines each later, you were warm enough to take off your gloves and stuff them in your pocket. Bradley’s own hands offered enough warmth for you as he led you down the busy path, offering to buy you anything you’d like. 

The two of you stopped in front of a place that had a wide display handmade Christmas tree toys. The most interesting part of their work was the offer to take a picture in their photo booth that they would then put in a little plastic sphere or heart-shaped bauble. 

‘It’s gonna be nice to have something to commemorate our first Christmas together,’ you told Bradley and led him to the photo booth so you two could participate. 

Ten minutes later you were moving off to another part of the Christmas market with your bauble packed in a little bag. Bradley carefully pulled you to stand in front of him while he steered both of you in the direction of the ice skating rink some hundred feet away.

While he was paying for your entrance, your phone buzzed in your coat’s pocket and you pulled it out to see a new message had popped up in the Bitchezzz United group chat you had with Phoenix, Frankie and Halo. 

QueenNix💁🏻‍♀️: BLOSSOM!!!

QueenNix💁🏻‍♀️: checked in with the shelter today. they’ll keep the little guy until next week. Frankieand I will pick him up and keep him at our place until xmas eve.

You gasped, typing out a quick response. 

FlowerPower🌼: That’s perfect! Thank you so much! Keep the receipts for food and anything like that.

baddie with a fattie💋💋: absolutely not babes!

FlowerPower🌼: absolutely yes! Keep the receipts or I’ll ask Amelia to hack into your banking accounts so I can see how much I owe you and give you money instead of xmas presents!

Halo reacted to your message with a laughing emoji. An ellipsis appeared next to Phoenix’s profile picture before her next message appeared. 

QueenNix💁🏻‍♀️: ill keep a tab on any expenses but it’s seriously not an issue. we’re excited to see Bradley’s reaction!!!

FlowerPower🌼: thanks, Nix! Im excited as well! Gotta go now, Bradley took me ice skating.

carbs4life🍔🍜🍕: send pics!

QueenNix💁🏻‍♀️: say hi to mr chicken

baddie with a fattie💋💋: trip him up lmao

Before Bradley could see your chat as he made his way back to you, two pairs of skates in hand, you pocketed your phone.

‘The girls say hi,’ you told him as he knelt at your feet to untie your shoe laces. 

‘They’re still on for Christmas Eve, right?’ He asked.

You nodded in response while he pulled your shoes one at a time, then helped you into the skates. They were a nice cream colour, fleece lined which warmed up your feet immediately. After he was done with your own, Bradley quickly slipped out of his Timbs and into a pair of much larger black skates.

‘How did they manage to find boat sized shoes for you, I’ll never know.’ You joked. Bradley tickled your sides in retaliation which made you yelp and you clamped your mouth shut. 

You watched him with a smile while he fiddled with the shoe laces, very much excited yourself to see the reaction to his Christmas present. You’d managed to get this far with the secret, hiding the fact that you’d been scouring the websites of all breeders and shelters in the state for the perfect puppy. Bradley had told you he’d always dreamed of having a dog and seeing as you had space to fill in your big house, you thought a dog would be a welcome gift. 

‘Ready?’ Bradley got up from the bench and offered you his hand. 

You beamed at him and nodded, sliding your palm in his own and letting yourself be pulled to your feet.

The pair of you waddled your way to the door and carefully got onto the rink, making sure not to fall over the moment the blades of your skates touched the false ice. But with Bradley’s hand firmly holding yours, you began to abandon your worries and happily slide around the rink with him.

24 December, 0 days till Christmas

The dinner table was extended and covered by a beautiful, red table cloth. There were candles spread around in the few gaps that weren’t filled by plates and bowls of various foods. There was a turkey in the middle of the spread, surrounded by smaller dishes containing stuffing, gravy, Bradley’s potato salad, and a pear and red onion chutney you’d made from scratch. There were bowls of dried fruit and a basket of bread from the nearby bakery. The first bottle of red wine was open and left to decant on a side table, surrounded by a fresh set of merlot glasses you’d gotten as part of your list of move-in must-haves.

The food around the table was perhaps enough to feed an army, but knowing full well that a majority of their guests would be an ever-hungry bunch of Navy guys, it made sense. Payback alone could probably finish the turkey by himself and then ask for another. Bob was the easiest to cook for, because he had the stomach of a chicken and rarely asked for second helpings even if your inner grandma was constantly pushing more things onto his plate because he needed the nourishment. 

You’d left Bradley in the kitchen to finish the chocolate mousse while you showered and changed into something nice. That wasn’t too tricky a desert to do and the only thing you asked of him was to whip it until it was an airy consistency. You could say you were confident in his abilities to let him.

Something happened in the shower; you couldn’t tell if it was the festive spirit, the excitement for the night ahead, or simply the fact that you had started to imagine Bradley in his crisp white shirt and dark blue slacks carefully handling a chocolate mousse. 

You could peg it to ovulation-related horniness, but the thoughts kept coming to the forefront and the hot water stream just elevated those feelings to another level. 

His large hands wrapped around the whisk or wooden spoon, flicking through the mousse with a military precision. His muscles tensing under the material of the shirt with every move. His plush lips pursed in concentration.

By the time you got to your closet in search of an appropriate dress to wear, you’d decided you wanted to add on to his Christmas present in a more personal, more pleasurable way.

Your heels clicked against the wood of the stairs as you descended, making your way to the back and into the kitchen. The skirt of your red dress swished around your thighs and you intentionally swung your hips a little more so that the fabric could flare about you seductively. Your put your left hand behind you, wanting to partially obscure the bunched up lacy fabric in your first. 

Your plan seemed to have worked because Bradley’s eyes were immediately on you when you entered the room.

Bradley’s mouth hung open with the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the mousse halfway up. You walked to his side and wrapped your free arm around his middle, making a final check on the mousse. You peeled yourself off of him and dipped a finger in it, tasted, and the sweetness melted on your tongue. 

You let out a deep moan before grabbing the spoon from Bradley and scooping some more of the mousse onto it. ‘Oh my god! This is to die for!’

‘Your dress is to die for,’ he commented before taking back the spoon and throwing it in the sink. He pushed the bowl of mousse out of the way before turning you around to face him. You chuckled at the seriousness and determination in his eyes which raked up and down your form, fully taking in your outfit.

The sweetheart neckline offered a nice view of your cleavage which was enhanced by the bra you knew him to harbour strong feelings for. The dress was cinched at the waist before flowing freely down your hips, reaching just shy of your knees. 

Bradley’s hands wondered from your shoulders to your sides and waist, fully appreciating your outfit and you in it. You were patiently waiting for him to have his fill before spilling the contents of your hand in his own.

‘You look beautiful, Blossom.’

You smiled up at him. ‘Thank you, baby. Thought I’d finally put this dress on, it’s been in our closet for months.’

‘You should’ve worn it out by now. Torn it to shreds.’

‘Yeah?’ 

Bradley nodded eagerly. ‘I certainly would’ve helped with that.’

Your eyebrows twitched and a self-satisfied smirk made its way onto your lips. 

‘Why don’t we give it a test flight then?’ 

You lifted your left hands high enough to slip the bunched up lace in his slacks’ pocket. While he was reaching for his surprise, you lifted yourself onto the kitchen island and leaned back on your palms, watching him expectantly. 

The moment his fingers touched the lace, you knew you had him. His eyes widened comically and you noted how his pupils dilated at the slow, but sure realisation exactly what he was touching. 

He pulled his hand out of his pocket, slowly turning the lace panties that matched your bra between his fingers. He paused for a second, taking the sight of them in, before putting them back in his pocket. 

You leaned forward on the counter, smiling innocently at your boyfriend in who’s eyes you could see an ocean of emotion that was spilling over the edges. You swung your legs back and forth and simply waited for him to make the next move. Which he soon enough did.

Bradley’s hand landed softly on your bare knees and climbed higher and higher, reaching underneath the hem of your dress to feel the smooth and soft skin underneath. The moment he reached the tops of your thighs, he felt his way around for any sign of a material obstructing his touch. And when he couldn’t find any, but could touch freely — which he did and caused a soft sigh to tumble past your lips — he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer to his body. 

You gasped audibly when your naked slit pressed tightly against his covered zipper, underneath of which his cock had begun to swell. You wanted him like this, in this position, no prep, no nothing. Your pussy was so wet and aching for him that you were certain that him sheathing himself within you would bring you to the brink. 

‘You know we’ve got guests coming soon.’ 

He was giving you a way out, but you couldn’t care less if they were right outside your door.

‘Not for another half-hour we don’t.’ You raised a single eyebrow. ‘Think you can finish by then?’

Bradley took your face in his hands, leaned down, and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was hard and demanding. His tongue invaded your mouth without a second of deliberation. 

His hands ran over your curves, pulling you closer and melding your chests together. He lifted your skirt higher while you reached for the fly of his slacks. Your fingers trembled in anticipation and it took you a second to pry two flaps open, nearly tearing the button out of its place. 

‘Baby, can I fuck you without a condom,’ Bradley begged against the heat of your open mouth. ‘I wanna feel you, all of you.’

You moaned loudly. Your head dipped back and offered the expanse of your neck to his wanting mouth. His lips trailed wet, open kisses across your skin down to your collar bones. ‘Yes! Oh, yes, please!’

You reached inside the opening in Bradley’s slacks, freeing his cock from his confines. He groaned against your shoulder when your delicate hand wrapped around the base of his length and pressed it up against your soaking cunt. 

‘Oh, fuck, baby! You’re so fucking wet for me, beautiful.’ He sighed, tangling one hand in the hair and angling your head to his liking. 

His other hand slipped back underneath the skirt of the dress, his thumb pressed against your clit and applied pressure that was barely there to the little bundle of nerves that had you crying out. 

‘Is this why you did this? Wore this dress, took your little panties off and presented your hungry pussy to me for the taking. Huh, hoped I’d fuck you like this? Like the good little slut you are?’

‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘Fuck!’

Your hand on his cock guided him in, your walls opening and sucking him in. Bradley bottomed out without wasting another second and stilled; he dropped his forehead against yours and held you like that.

‘Bradley,’ you whimpered and tried rolling your hips into his own. ‘Please, move, Daddy. I need— need you so much. Please.’

‘Give me a sec,’ he murmured in response. ‘I need to last long enough, baby. Can’t give my good girl everything she needs if I shoot my load too soon. And I wanna reward you, show you how much I liked your little surprise.’

‘You like it?’

‘Yeah, beautiful. If this is my Christmas present, I can tell you…’ Bradley thrust into your heat once, deep and slow, and made you see stars, ‘…it is a very good present.’

‘It- It’s no— ah! not your only pre-present,’ you sobbed while his thrusts picked up in pace and force. 

He began to fuck into you, your barely covered ass sliding against the marble counter, but Bradley’s large hands kept a firm grip on your hips as he half-guided your body towards his own. Your breaths caught in your throat, eyes rolled back to the back of your head. With shaky hands you gripped his shoulders while your legs fell wide open on their own accordance to allow him more room. 

‘My beautiful, beautiful woman. My fucking girl. Mine!’ Bradley growled against the side of your neck, mere inches from your ear. 

You keened at the possessiveness and pulled him closer, clawing at the collar of his shirt. If the material wrinkled, you couldn’t care less. You’d strip it off of him yourself and iron it later, or even better — let him wear his wrinkled shirt to dinner and let all your guests know what transpired between the two of you. Right there on the kitchen island. A foot or so away from the chocolate mousse, you’d be serving them for dessert. 

Bradley nudged the collar of your dress to the side, baring your shoulder to his hungry mouth, and sucked on your skin like he was trying to consume you. His hips snapped harder against yours with every whimper, every wail of exaltation. His hands wondered around your body, touching anything covered or bare so he could, everything within his grasp. 

You felt desired, worshiped, adored. Bradley’s hips rolled against yours, his cock slipping in and out of your soaked cunt with what could only be oxymoronically be described as tender force. Those lustful feelings that had spurred your impromptu seduction melted into a very poignant sensation which softened your touch against his own body. 

Everything seemed to take on a fuzzy, pink hue. 

You smoothed Bradley’s hair back, kissing his face tenderly and sighing against his flushed skin. His own breaths rang like bells against your ear and before you even thought to ask him to kiss you, his lips were joining with yours.

‘I love you, I love you so much,’ he groaned, almost desperately. ‘I love you.’

You gasped into his open mouth and he swallowed your rushed breath, peppering your lips with his kisses.

‘I know, I know. I love you, Bradley.’

‘Please, come on my cock, baby. You know how much I love it,’ thrust ‘know how much I love when you squeeze me, fucking drench me’ thrust ‘oh, baby, you feel so fucking good!’

Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him even closer.

‘Come in me, Bradley. Give it to me, fill me up. Please, please, ple— AH!’ 

Your wail of pleasure and surprise came at the exact moment Bradley’s cock made one final plunge in your depths. The sensation threw you over the edge and you came shuddering, clutching Bradley against you. You felt him twitch inside you, shoot his hot seed into your quivering cunt and come to a halt. 

Full. You felt full and satiated. Like a cat that had a bowl-full of cream and was lounging in a sun spot. 

Bradley stayed buried inside you longer than he usually did. You caressed his face, his neck, loathe to let him go. This felt too good and too special to end so soon. 

‘Marry me.’

You pulled your face back and looked up at him. Your eyes were wide and mouth agape. All thoughts save but one left your mind with your breath which had stilled in your throat. Your hands came up to hold his face and Bradley’s own rose to cover yours. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze when he licked his lips to speak again.

‘Marry me.’

You blinked dumbly. ‘What?’

Bradley bit his lip and you wanted to kick yourself for how uncoordinated you’d become in the wake of his proposal. 

‘This was going to be half of my Christmas present for you. I- I thought… never mind.’

He began to pull away, his softening cock slipping out of you. You gripped his jaw a little tighter and made him stop, staring deeply into his eyes. He couldn’t think you were rejecting him, could he?

Oh, you silly, silly man!

‘Ask me.’ You said firmly. 

Bradley’s features twisted in hesitation before he licked his lips to say once more, ‘Marry me.’

You gasped, bottom lip trembling and eyes filling with tears. ‘Yes. Yes, yes, yes!’

‘Yes?’ He repeated, astonished. 

‘Yes!’ You exclaimed. ‘God, Bradley, yes! I will marry you, I will be your wife!’

Bradley grinned broadly, holding your face in his hands and watching you as if you’d made him the happiest he’d ever been. You sincerely hoped you had, because he’d made you the happiest you had ever been. 

And all with but a single request. 

‘I- I have an actual present, too.’

‘I couldn’t care less about that.’

‘But it’s really nice,’ Bradley assured you. ‘It can double as an engagement present as well. But if you want a separate one, I’ll get it. I’ll give you everything, Blossom. I love you.’

‘I love you, Bradley.’ You sobbed. Tears of joy dropped onto your cheeks as you pulled him back in to pepper his face with kisses, making Bradley chuckle.

‘You really had me there for a second. Thought you were going to reject me.’

You shook your head. ‘Could never. I love you and I want to marry you, have wanted it for such a long time. I just never thought it’d happen right after you fucked me on the kitchen island.’

Bradley laughed and pressed his forehead to yours as the two of your stopped your furious kissing to catch your breath. ‘I had a much more romantic proposal in mind. At the dinner table with our friends, but the post nut clarity—’

‘Thank god, for post nut clarity!’ 

Bradley kissed you again and seemed to savour the kiss with an unquenchable thirst. He then looked at you again, nothing but joy in his eyes. He held up a finger for you to hold for a moment, pulled free of you with a grunt, tucked his now placid cock in his slacks and told you to wait for him there.

‘Can I have my panties?’ You asked as he made his way out of the kitchen.

He smirked. ‘Oh, no. These are staying with me tonight, baby.’

You patiently sat on the kitchen island, your thighs clenched together to keep Bradley’s seed inside. You felt high, higher than anything could ever get you. You kept thinking over the whole proposal, delving deeper and deeper into that pool of absolute, unadulterated joy you felt. 

He wants to marry you. 

Bradley will be your husband, you will be his wife. 

Not more than five minutes later, he was back in the kitchen and jogged over to you. In his hand he had a small blue box that he swiftly unlidded to reveal two beautiful rings nestled inside. Both were very simple, without many embellishments, but to you they were as grand as diamonds and rubies. 

‘They belonged to my mom and dad. Maverick gave them to me the day you got the job. I would’ve proposed then, but knew it was too early and I wanted my proposal to you to be special. If you don’t like them, we can go and get newer ones—’

You kissed him to stop his worried rambling, holding his face in your hands and smoothing your thumbs over his reddened cheeks. You then gazed down lovingly at the two golden bands before taking the larger one and holding it in your hand whilst giving your now fiancé an expectant look. 

‘I love them. Don’t think about changing them, they mean a lot to you and so they do to me.’

Bradley nodded and took the smaller ring from the box, reaching for your left hand and slipping it onto the appropriate finger. You waited for him to feel the power of this moment before you gently clasped his own left hand and slipped the other ring on. 

You looked up at Bradley and he looked down at you, both of you entirely lost in your shared joy. He leaned down to kiss your lips for what was probably the hundredth time that evening, but did it truly matter — you were happy beyond all explanation. 

Just then the doorbell rang, singling the arrival of your guests.

Bradley hastily fixed the collar of his shirt which, surprisingly, didn’t look as rumpled as you thought it’d be. He then helped you off of the kitchen island, telling you to go greet whoever was at the door while he finished setting up the table. 

You couldn’t leave his side before stealing another kiss, and then another, and another. But the insistent ringing of the bell had you running off to get the door. 

‘Hey, Blossom!’ Hangman greeted you cheerfully, his hand clasped around the neck of a red wine bottle. 

Coyote was standing right over his shoulder and followed him into the hallway. He gave you a brief hug before moving out of the way for Payback and Fanboy to walk in as well. It was, perhaps, the first time you’d seen any of them in anything other than uniforms or casual clothing — the four of them wearing suits, but still keeping with their casual nature by wearing trainers. Apart from Hangman, of course, he was always making sure he looked as if he’d jumped out of a GQ magazine spread.

It was a succession of hugs, exchanges of Merry Christmas’s and polite compliments on your outfit which made you look away sheepishly, knowing just how downright inappropriate the intention behind your dress (and lack of underwear) had been. 

‘Damn, this place looks nice!’ Coyote exclaimed when you showed the guys the way to the dining room. ‘Where’s Bradley?’

‘Over here, man.’

Bradley came out of the kitchen, carrying the board of cheeses and cured meats you’d fixed up earlier. You smiled when you caught the soft twinkling of the ring on his finger. The guys exchanged quick festive greetings with him and began chatting as if there’d been no time between seeing each other last and now. 

Payback turned to you for a moment. ‘Don’t wanna be a bother, but wanted to ask—’

‘Don’t worry, Bradley and I made sure to make all foods halal and kosher. Sarah’s coming too, so we were extra careful with the ingredients.’

‘Aw, thanks, bud!’

‘Don’t mention it! We’re glad you all agreed to spend Christmas Eve with us. It feels really nice to fill the house with people,’ you gushed. 

‘I bet!’ Fanboy joined the conversation, standing on Payback’s side. ‘Still can’t believe your guys’ luck! The house looks amazing!’

The doorbell rang again. 

‘Bradley? Baby, mind pouring the guys some drinks, I’ll go see who’s at the door.’

‘It’s probably Mav. He texted that he, Penny, Sarah, and Amelia were a close.’ 

True to his word, once you opened your door you were greeted by the four of of them, arms full with present bags and boxes. Amelia was first to rush forward and bundle you in a bear hug, followed by a much calmer Penny who kissed your cheeks and praised the wreath on the front door.

‘Thank you! Bradley and I made it,’ you said proudly. But once you lifted your hand to push your hair out of your forehead, Penny seemed to catch sight of the ring on your left hand and let out a gasp. Then came Sarah who gently took your hand so the two women could examine the delicate band on your ring finger.

‘Oh, sweetie! Is this…?’

You grinned. ‘As of ten minutes, yes. The other guys haven’t noticed yet.’

Amelia was ecstatic and ran off to find the group of aviators and rub in their noses their inability to notice this very important fact. You laughed when you heard the boom of cheers coming from the kitchen, bringing your attention back to Penny, Sarah and Mav who gave you their congratulations. 

‘What are we celebrating?’ Came Frankie’s voice from the open doorway. She, in her usual fashion, was dressed to the nines in a sparkling green dress which meticulously hugged her curves and matched her glittery eyeshadow. Halo and Bob came in after her, both of them dressed very sharply, but anyone would pale after Frankie’s dazzling entrance. 

‘Phoenix is in the car with the puppy. Want us to bring him in now?’ Frankie whispered to you once you’d directed the others to the kitchen. 

Just then Phoenix herself appeared at the doorstep and in her hands was a little black fur ball with a large red bow wrapped loosely around its neck. 

You couldn’t contain the aw that escaped your lips once you finally saw the puppy you’d chosen as Bradley’s present. The cane corso started to wagging his tail, sniffing the air about you and trying to get out of Phoenix’s arms. She handed him to you and the little guy couldn’t sit still until he could lift himself high enough to lick at your chin.

‘Oh, you are just precious!’ 

‘We’ve got his documents from the shelter,’ Phoenix explained and lifted the small bag that was handing from her elbow. ‘We brought his food, he’ll be good for the next month at least. Frankie overspent on that and treats.’

‘It’s ‘cause he gave me these eyes. Oh, babes, he gives you those eyes and you can’t not give him a treat!’

You chuckled, smoothing the puppy’s sleek black coat back which meant that your two best friends were the next to learn of the recent developments, both gasping audibly when they saw the ring on your finger. 

‘Okay, come in now both of you, we should go take this little man to Daddy.’ You said after another series of squeals, screeches, shouted congratulations, and more face licking from the puppy in your arms.

Frankie gave you her typical lopsided smirk. ‘Is that how you got him to propose? Called him Daddy?’

You jokingly slapped her ass when she walked in front of you. ‘Shush you!’

‘Oh, Daddy! Give me a ring, I’ll be a good girl!’ She gave an exaggerated moan and a sigh, throwing a hand over her forehead and leaning against the living room doorframe in an overdramatic fashion. ‘Okay, okay, let’s go take the little guy to Bradley!’

The three of you, grinning from ear to ear in anticipation, hurried off to the dining room, greeted by the sight of all the guests either sitting at the table and enjoying an aperitif. Bradley was standing near the door to the kitchen, talking to Bob and Maverick, when he caught sight of you and your eyes widened at the contents of your arms. 

‘Oh my god!’

‘Merry Christmas, baby!’

‘Oh my god! Is that for us?’ 

Bradley crossed the distance between the two of you and reached out for the puppy that was now more interested in this new human that in you. Bradley picked him up and hugged him to his chest. Everyone around the room gushed over the adorable puppy.

‘It’s for you mostly,’ you explained to him. ‘Frankie and Phoenix put in me in touch with a shelter in San Fransisco after I said I was looking for a puppy. Apparently, someone found this little guy tossed out on the street as a newborn.’

‘Yeah, some dickhead,’ Frankie supplied.

‘Aw, buddy,’ Bradley gushed, screeching the puppy behind the ears which the he seemed to adore. ‘Guys, I need a cool name.’

‘Thor.’

‘No, Zeus.’

‘I think Cerberus is a badass name for… what is he, a doberman?’

‘Cane corso,’ you explained, already thinking over the name Cerberus. 

It was a fitting name for a dog like this, would be in complete contrast to how sweet he was, but in the end the decision was all Bradley’s. 

‘Well, Cerberus is a badass name,’ Bradley agreed and groaned when the little guy licked his cheeks. ‘Oh, we’re gonna be best fucking friends, buddy.’

You patted him on the shoulder. ‘Alright, let’s sit down and eat, because I don’t want our efforts to go to waste.’

Payback barked out a laugh and pointed at the turkey. ‘No way, we’re leaving this place before obliterating this.’

‘Wait, is this a Christmas and an engagement dinner then?’ Phoenix asked when she took up the chair next to yours.

You shared a brief look with Bradley who simply smiled and gave you a shrug. ‘I guess it is.’

Maverick grabbed his wine glass and lifted it proudly in the air. ‘To Bradley and Blossom then.’

Everyone followed suit with the toast before taking a long sip to your health and happiness. Bradley, still holding little Cerberus in his arms, leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You placed your hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes, finding that serenity you felt reflected back to you.

‘Merry Christmas, baby.’ Bradley whispered to you as he raised his lips to your forehead, leaving a delicate peck upon your warm skin.  

‘Merry Christmas to you, too.’ Your mouth twitched in a smile. ‘Fiancé.’

Bradley sighed contentedly. ‘I’m really starting to enjoy the sound of that. Be even better when I’m promoted to husband.’

‘Keep being your usual self and I’ll promote you sooner rather than later,’ you promised him.

‘I’ll hold you to that.’

You giggled and leaned back in your chair, taking the offered bowl of salad that Phoenix held. You spared a quick glance in Bradley’s direction still in disbelief that someone could make you so happy.

But there he was, you wonderful man, your fiancé with a puppy in his arms and an engagement ring on his left hand that promised you happiness and love.

What a perfect Christmas…

Happy holidays to you all! Sorry I couldn't post this earlier, I'd planned to make it into two parts, but I was sick then something not very nice happened to me at work so that's why it was delayed. Hope you're all having fun today, however you're spending it (if you're not celebrating Christmas)! 🌸

(taglist is still open, click here and fill out this Google Form)

home to you tags: @gretagerwigsmuse @jupitercomet @youlightmeupfinn @craftymoonchaos @the-winter-marvel33 @agent-jbarnes @blahehblah @katieshook02 @amysteryspot @daisyhollyxox @marantha @piceous21 @mak-32 @twoosinrooster @adoringsebstan @everyoneslovechild @shityoudidntaskfor @alluringshawn @marsontoast @lemur46 @taytaylala12 @benhardysdrumstick @strangeangelflapsuitcase @eugene-emt-roe @shanimallina87 @beachesandboats @ishipit1420 @machsachds @wishfulhope (crossed over names are people I wasn't able to tag, sorry)

[trans-beast]

Computer biology

Computers and similar pieces of modern tech have tons of wires, circuits and cables among other things that all need to fit together just right in order to function. They are powered by electricity and have innards that can be very fragile if not handled properly.

There is an entire network of delicate innards that transmit electrical pulses from one spot to another, much like neurons within a human brain. If something malfunctions, the cause could be all kinds of things, be it damage or alterations to the inner workings of their mechanical nervous system, or internal errors within the ephemeral digital mind’s eye that is the internet, programs and the virtual plane upon the monitor as a whole. A bit like how a brain can be damaged from direct physical damage or tampering, or from trauma that comes from events that don’t leave bruises.

If not properly cared for, computers can get “injured” or “sick”. They can catch a virus if you don’t take the proper precautions when rooting through parts of the internet that are “unclean” or “contaminated”. Like rooting through garbage and choosing not to sanitize anything.

If a computer works too hard, it can overheat and shut sown. People also have a habit of doing that when they get heatstroke. If made to stay turned on for too long, the computer may begin to slow down. Sleep mode doesn’t fix the problem, just puts it off til later, like how one might nod off into microsleep after prolonged periods of sleep deprivation.

Your organs don’t work so well if the veins and arteries don’t plug into ‘em. Moving the position of some of your arteries just a few centimeters to the left may be catastrophic, or it could be negligible. Some wires in your devices might cause very little change if they get a bit loose, but depending on which wire and where, it could also render a device more sensitive or in need of repair.

Therefore, technology is a subcategory of domesticated organism, and it’s absolutely normal and essential I light incense for the 2DS I lost as a little kid.

RIP to my pokeball pouch that I kept my 2DS and many DS games in, you were well-loved before you were tragically lost at the airport when I was a kid 😔

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Promoters unveiled the first proposed offshore wind project for Nova Scotia in Halifax on Wednesday.Nova East Wind wants to install 20 to 25 floating wind turbines 25 kilometres off Goldboro on the province's Eastern Shore and supply up to 400 megawatts of electricity to the province's power grid by the end of the decade.

The company is a partnership between majority owner SBM Offshore, a global ocean energy service company based in Amsterdam, and developer DP Energy of Ireland.

Ambroise Wattez, SBM director of project development, told reporters the project will cost between $1 billion and $1.5-billion.

The electricity is intended for domestic consumption to replace energy currently generated by Nova Scotia Power's coal-fired plants, which must close by 2030. The electricity would be transported along the ocean bottom by an undersea cable. The route follows an abandoned offshore gas pipeline corridor. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[riptide-kid]

Domestic December 2023 - Day 29 Power outage

Pairing: Swiss x Aurora

Summary: Aurora gets surprised by a power outage at the abbey.

Warnings: -

Words: ~ 500

Notes: -

You can also read this on Ao3!

Usually, Aurora was energetic. The life on tour suited her well, dancing every night, always on the move, she loved it and never got tired of it. But since they had returned and she had really had the time to get adjusted to the life around the abbey she had to admit – a quiet life wasn’t that bad either. Of course some day they’d be going on another tour again, but right now she was perfectly content with spending a relaxing evening by herself, listening to her favourite music and working on some bracelets she was making for her friends. She had seen some of the fans of the Ghost project trading bracelets at the concerts – they even had gifted her some with her name on it, she already had a small collection now! – and thought it was incredibly cute and fun to make.

In the soft glow of her bedside lamp she choose the beads for a bracelet she was making for Phantom. She had settled on mainly dark purple, and some small bat-shaped charms she had found at a craft store the other day, certain that Phantom would love them, when suddenly, the light went out. At the same time, with a soft buzz, her music went out too and Aurora found herself in complete darkness and silence.

She froze in her spot, holding her breath, her slit pupils widening, trying to get any light in. What was going on? This was not normal. Carefully, she blinked, looking around herself, and started breathing again very softly and quietly. Everything seemed to be as it was before... What had happened? Aurora jumped as someone knocked on her door.

“Rora? Are you okay?” she calmed down a little as she recognized the familiar voice.

“Swiss? What’s going on?” she asked softly.

The other ghoul came into her room. “It’s just a power outage. Happens sometimes. Do you need some candles?” “What’s a power outage?” she asked.

“Electricity doesn’t work anymore. The cables and everything are old so it does that sometimes. They usually get it to work pretty quickly again though,” Swiss assured her.

“Oh.. Okay,” Aurora said, but she was not able to hide the slight quiver of her voice. Of course she wasn’t afraid of the dark but the sudden change of events had startled her somehow.

“Here,” Swiss lit one of the candles he had brought, the flame reflecting in his amber eyes. He put it down on her nightstand. “It’s not much, but at least it’s a little brighter now.”

“Thank you,” she forced a small smile onto her face as she stared at the flickering flame. Her head shot up at Swiss, who had also noticed that something was off. “Stay with me?” she asked timidly.

Swiss sat down next to her. “Of course.”

[drdemonprince]

how is it having a chinchilla? How does it compare to a dog, rabbit, lizard, or other pets? I'd like a pet when I'm more financially stable, but idk if I'll ever be mentally stable? I worry about meeting its needs, but something like a fish is too low interaction for me.

Are chinchillas considered an "exotic" animal? I know some states require licenses to have them as pets, like hedgehogs

Chinchillas are in the sweet spot of low maintenance but high engagement, in my opinion. When you're busy, you can keep em in a cage with water, hay, pellets, a few chew toys, and a wheel to run on pretty much indefinitely ; when you want to play with them you can let them roam around a chin-proofed room and enjoy watching them jump, roll, and dart around the room bouncing off the walls.

Chins are curious and fearless, and they are *fast* and can jump as high as four feet off the ground, and quite high energy, so they can be a lot of fun to have around. They however are NOT LAP PETS and will chew up every single wood baseboard / electric cable / book / pair of shoes they can find, so you have to keep an eye on them or else cover everything with cardboard. Don't let the cute tiktoks fool you, most dont want to sit still on a countertop holding things for videos. Chins are like cats: they do want they want to do, and they choose when they want to make contact with you and where they want to go.

Chins are also hypoallergenic! and relatively cheap to keep, aside from the initial start up costs of buying a good Critter Nation cage and a Happy Chilla metal wheel and the pet itself. They are very long lived for a rodent, some making it into their 20s, so be prepared for a long term commitment. (my last chin made it to 13, but we didnt feed her well when I was a child. Dump Truck, who we give hay and Oxbow pellets only, is 7 but I expect him to be around a long time. He's still very youthful).

There are no "exotics" restrictions on owning chinchillas, because they have been domesticated since the 1800s. All chinchillas come from breeders, none are captured from the wild, and there are many reputable breeders in the US, the UK, Canada, Australia, Germany, and Japan, as well as rescues. Here in Chicago we have Northwest Indiana Chinchilla Rescue just a few miles out.

One final note: chinchillas need a cool environment. If the room they are in gets about 85 degrees, they will die. They evolved in the Peruvian mountains and are built for a cold, dry environment. If you can't afford to keep them in air conditioning all summer, do not get one. In the winter, they will post up for hours beside an open window. Ice chips and a cool marble slab in their cage can help them regulate temp too.

To learn more, I recommend Let's Love Chinchillas. It's a website, a subreddit, and theyre on facebook/instagram etc.

[kiaroscuro]

Title: as the world caves in

Warnings: descriptions of violence, major character death

Rating: Mature

Main Pairing: Ren Amamiya / Arsene

Main Tags: post-canon, zombie au, angst, hurt / comfort, road trips

Warning:

· · ─────── =^.^= ─────── · ·

The persona is nothing if not attentive over the next few days, always around Ren to make sure that his side and eye didn't get worse; there was little to do for the lighting-strike other than to keep the surface of Ren's skin soft and flexible, and they've started treating it like the burn wound on Ren's arm. They don't speak much, basking in each other's presence while the wind howls outside, rattling the metal carcass of the plane and howling in sorrow. Once Ren feels as if he can walk for more than two steps, Arsene takes him to the pilot's cabin, making Ren sit down in the seat while the persona occupies the other, and then he starts talking about the controls of the plane. Arsene recites from not-memory how to fly a simple one, how many of the little devices were used by the military first. After some time, he started taking apart and inspecting the radio unit of the plane in the hopes of repairing it. Ren listens to him, watches the snowstorm swallow everything in white while the voice of his other half washes over him, and imagines a simpler life, one where he could've finished high school and then gone back to Tokyo for university. Sometimes, flecks of the star-lit sky become visible, and Ren's eyes search out familiar constellations, the North Star always a focal point, Ursus Major another he recognizes.

Ren closes his eyes and imagines meeting Zenkichi and Akane and the Yoshizawa twins in another life; maybe a new Metaverse would've emerged over summer vacation, and he and his thieves could've met Zenkichi as an officer working on the same case. Akane and the twins could've joined them as persona users, and Zenkichi and Sojiro could've met and gone along splendidly. Maybe Konoe would be one of Ren's confidants, the man a broken mess even before the cataclysm. He ruminates on their possible code-names, imagines how his thieves would've reacted to meeting them, imagines how Mona would've gotten along greatly with Akane. Arsene's voice has fallen into a steady rhythm, and he shifts ever-so-often to adjust his wings in the seat, claws drawing over the console and plucking around electrical wires without any power left.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Ren closes his eyes, feels his side dull to a slow throb, and listens as Arsene fumbles around with the broken radio unit while talking about his adventures of long past, telling tales about the world war because both of them were in a maudlin mood. It's a strange camaraderie, almost domestic in how at ease he finds himself in the persona's presence, and Ren thinks that he could grow used to staying like this forever.

(What a dangerous thought.)

Deft claws take apart the front panel of the radio, more wires exposed, a tangled mess that has Arsene hiss in displeasure. Ren eyes it, watches cables and wires twine together and destroy each other, and closes his eyes, exhaling once while he lets his weight sag against the seat. "...it's all such a mess," Ren murmurs, and Arsene's wings twitch and his fire flickers before he turns towards Ren with a low-burning confusion.

I can untangle them just fine, do not worry, mon cher. The persona says, but Ren shakes his head. "Everything had been perfectly fine, and then it got-- tangled together, and now I don't know--" he stops, stares down at his hands and imagines the blood of the nebiros and mithra on them. He can still taste the blessed flesh, insides protesting at the sense-memory. Arsene is silent for a moment.

...we aren't talking about the radio unit, are we? He asks, softly, and Ren breathes in shakily, tries to keep his voice even. Arsene's fire softens, before he puts the mess of cables and wires down on the console again, turning towards Ren.

"I should've listened to you and leave, but--" He shudders, "-- I really thought I could trust him. I just don't know why--"

He paid attention to ye, Arsene comments, still soft. At thy exploits and thy knowledge, and he allowed thee to use it for the people in a way that made a difference. My dear, this was not a trap thou could've known how to escape, because Maruki made certain to slather the oil with honey. He exploited natural human need for companionship and thy natural desire to help people -- for that, I cannot be sorry enough.

Ren draws in another shaky breath, eyes blinking because he can feel the tears stinging. "But--"

My greatest regret is not being there for ye throughout all of it.

I let him touch me--! Ren cries, unable to voice it out loud. He clenched his hands into fists before winding them around his elbows, pressing them against his stomach at the sick feeling surfacing. The wound on the side gives off a dull throb almost as if in warning, but Ren ignores it, relishes in the pain. "...I let him touch me," a broken murmur, "even though..."

Claws carefully pried his fingers off, smoothing them out one by one, Arsene's finger pads trailing over the palm of Ren's hands until they stopped clenching and lay flat on his thighs. Ren glances sideways at his persona, who had never looked so human as in that moment, regret trailing down over his mask like tears of golden ichor as he knelt next to Ren. Did what happened with Mademoiselle Shiho or even our own Panther make them weak in thy eyes? The persona asks gently. Ren hiccoughs and shakes his head. Of course not, but Ren's fallen for Takuto's soft words and machinations while Ann and Shiho had been forced into compliance...

Arsene thrums, lowly. His head tilts to the side, claws gently squeezing Ren's hands. Like this, Ren can see the cut on his throat, the thin line of discolored flesh. Had Fox not believed that Madarame was a honest and just man because he was raised under pretenses? Had he not cared for the artist almost like a father, because he was at one point treated as such? Ren, what happened to thee is in no way thy own fault. Thou should know this.

And the thing is-- the thing is: rationally, Ren knows this. But Ren also knows that he'd enjoyed Takuto's attention, his soft and ready touches and gentle smiles and adoring gaze -- his and Sumire's both. Ren also feels distinctly used and manipulated, and he wants to do nothing more than scrub the memory of that last dinner off of his skin. He hates himself for his feelings, because that silk-thin strand of possibilities that had been growing between him and Arsene--

Ren isn't sure he deserves it, anymore. "Even though--" he tries again, tries to get Arsene to understand, because Ren feels wretched and hollow and so, so greedy for taking all of his persona's attention, and--

"Ren, my dear," Arsene rasps softly, "seeking out a connection in these circumstances is not something I would ever begrudge thee." I will be happy with whoever thou decide to settle with, as long as both parties consent to it.

Ren shudders. "...even Akechi?" He asks, half in jest and half because there had been something between them, amidst all the murder and subterfuge and deceit. Arsene makes a noise, wings twitching. He's got them pressed tightly against his back, Ren notes, which has to be uncomfortable. Even Crow, though I would  question thy sanity on that matter. He admits, and then adds, softer still: I mean it, though.

"I don't want anyone else's attention," Ren admits, lowering his lashes and eyes growing distant. "I... for a long time now, I think, I didn't want anyone else's attention but yours." He's still fixated on the cut, remembering how soft the skin had felt under the touch of his lips. Arsene's exhale is a breath of warm air.

"I know, mon cher."

"I know I'm never going to have all of it," Ren continues, haltingly, because it is in Arsene's nature to be flighty. He is a magpie with treasures of gold and women, hoarding one shiny thing until something new catches his eye. Ren's read the novels, and moreover, Arsene is part of his own heart, and-- "but if I could have it for now, I'd..."

Oh, Ren, Arsene murmurs, squeezing Ren's hands before carefully turning his kneeling into a crouch, his mask pressed to the side of Ren's face. "I cannot promise that you'll have me forever, but for as long as I am by your side, you'll have me." You've had me ever since the day we've met for the first time, Arsene adds, softly.

Ren breathes out a weight he hadn't noticed holding. "Oh," he murmurs, before closing his eyes and turning in his seat until he can hug Arsene, until he can feel the persona's claws trail through his hair and over his cheek while Ren burrows his head in his neck. Thank you.

First << >> Next

[cyanidas]

Forever ago, I wanted to make my own fan-region, complete with fakemon! Well, finally I got to make a few of them!! I guess I really like wings 😆

More info under cut (names, typings, shiny versions, general stuff) ✂️ (warning; it’s a lot!)

Pangolime (Electric/Normal) -> Joulemon (Electric) -> Circitraco (Electric/Dragon)

Pangolime is the size of a rat! They curl up into balls to conserve heat and ward off predators, and their blue scales conduct electricity. Their natural habitat is the desert, where they travel along dunes by rolling up and letting the wind blow them across the land! They’re the tamest of the lineage, as they’re commonly docile and handle well as pets. It’s common to see them in stores as symbols of good nature, or in hospitals as therapy assistants.

Joulemon is typically as big as a large housecat. Their thick, fat tails help regulate body temperature and root them to the ground, which is useful in windy climates, especially during duststorms and tornadoes. Their call sounds like a desert rain frog, and they can be about as temperamental. When they sense a threat to their territory, they stamp the ground with their forelegs and stare while squeaking angrily, warning enemies they are about to attack.

Circitraco is usually about 2-3ft in height, maybe the size of a medium dog. This lineage is known for their fruity aroma, and Circitraco most of all. The older the Circitraco, the sweeter and milder they smell. They’re known for being playful, if not a little unpredictable in nature. Still, they are the most intelligent of their lineage, possessing knowledge of art, basic math, and the concept of human language.

Raytubat (Electric) -> Consoules (Electric/Flying) -> Analoghoul (Electric/Dragon)

Raytubat is about 8in wide. This lineage is man-made, much like Porygon - however, they’ve gained the ability to have eggs and have become known as a city-dwelling pest around the region. Raytubat are usually seen infesting the back rooms and storage areas of stores and warehouses, where they feed off the building’s energy. You’ll know you have an infestation when your overhead lights begin flickering constantly, and your power bill skyrockets. They aren’t too bright, either.

Consoules is the size of a minipig, and about as hefty. They fly by propelling magnetic fuel from their tails and wings, and their ears act as GPS devices. They’re incredibly playful, and although quick to fear humans, they’re as easily re-domesticated as NYC pigeons. If you can lift them, you can just kinda grab one, no battle needed. The red gems on their body store power, and if you get close enough to the gem on their chest, you can hear odd radio waves! Since they still lack mouths, they consume exclusively electricity, and their favorite food is internet data.

Analoghoul are tech gargoyles about 5ft in length. They are fiercely territorial; you’d best hope that a Raytubat infestation doesn’t grow to become an Analoghoul problem because of its aggressive nature. The crystal ball it carries stores its energy, and slots into the divet in its chest. They have grown huge jaws that can rip through metal and thick cables with ease, which allow them to eat electrical wiring to better absorb the nutrients. Metal waste, once all electricity has been absorbed, is reverted out of its mouth as a solid metal pellet which is collected by cleanup crews and melted down for reuse. Despite being considered dangerous and harmful pests, certain tech companies employ their use to ward off other dangerous pests and intruders due to their territorial habits. Once fully domesticated, they become intensely loyal creatures.

Vixierrot (Fairy) -> Phantomime (Ghost) -> Coulrosee (Ghost/Fairy)

Vixierrot, which are the size of babydolls, are horribly pathetic creatures. They are born depressed and anxious, and move slow as sloths on the ground, where they do their best to eat flowering plants and small prey. Despite this, they fail tremendously. Without help from caretakers, whether that be older members of their lineage or human owners, they suffer greatly and perish. In order to get them to evolve, they require lots of love and affection and a specialized diet.

Phantomime are the size of real-life foxes. After evolving into this form, their happiness is completely reset as they struggle to cope with their new forms. Moody and anxious, some even run away from home upon evolving, so special containment procedures are necessary when caring for Vixierrot. They are totally silent and become solitary, preferring to watch friends and family from a distance. At their best, they love to play charades and make others laugh. They also have a certain craving for Fidough.

Coulrosee are quite large, about the size of humans! They’ve become quite comedic creatures, doing their best to entice laughter and play in others. It can become problematic, however, if not properly trained; they can mistake misery for delight or actively impose humor onto those who don’t want it as an attempt to help. Properly trained Coulrosee are highly sought-after by retirement homes, hospitals, and other such places for their unique ability to instill a fun, light-hearted atmosphere with their contagious laughter!

Angelure (Fire/Fairy) -> Cherrem (Fire) -> Seraphell (Risen: Psychic/Fire, Fallen: Dragon/Fire)

Angelure share a size with Morelull. They typically float in groups of up to 50 members, lighting up the dawn sky with their adorable little flames like fireflies. They have the ability Comatose, and entice onlookers who wander too close to fall asleep where they stand. People put to sleep by these creatures are said to have dreams of the afterlife and their ancestors. Angelure love to feed on these dreams.

Cherrem are typically about 13in in length, but their tails can reach up to 30in! They slither along the ground, leaving smouldering trails in their wake, hoping to entice fire-reliant prey to follow them to their dens, which are usually made out of stone or moss burrows. They put their prey to sleep for consumption. Although this is pretty gruesome, pet Cherrem are well-known to be quite shy, gently taking food from their owner’s hands and hiding their faces behind their toasty wings. This species can survive on diets of either meat or plants!

Seraphell are about 4ft in length each. In order to evolve into its Risen form, Cherrem (after evolving) must only consume plant matter and/or berries for 15 levels (in game, at least once every level). If the Cherrem were to consume only meat for 15 levels, it would become its Fallen form. If both or neither, then it will not evolve. Risen Seraphell and Fallen Seraphell become hostile toward one another, and their fights can become pretty ruthless. It’s advised to keep them separated. They do make excellent companions for humans, especially to the mentally unwell. It’s common to see them in mental hospitals due to their comforting, laid-back attitudes.

Sootspry (Fire) -> Burnowl (Fire/Flying) -> Wildflyr (Fire/Flying)

Sootspry are the size of two Joltik! They are energetic, frightful creatures who prefer to live in underground packs, sometimes consisting of hundreds of them at once! They feed off of fallen logs and old buildings, relying on Burnowl to scout new homes or sources of food. They burn red hot, and can’t fly yet, but they do flutter haphazardly along walls, sticking together to move as a mass.

Burnowl are, you guessed it, owl-sized defensive, intelligent creatures. They prefer food which has already been burned, so they eat what Sootspry leave behind. They’re able to spot prey by seeing and sensing their heat signatures. They are maternal creatures, often seen taking care of babies that aren’t even their own in the wild!

Wildflyr, the size of a large American Forest cat, are adorable, fierce, independent, and loving creatures. Sometimes they’re wrongly accused of setting forests ablaze, but research has shown they actually help prevent it by hunting other Fire-type prey. To see one flying across the night sky is said to bring good luck to all who see, so they have a dedicated festival in the summertime where a local herd is released at midnight to glide across the moon.

Kernamite (Grass/Bug) -> Chrysabud (Grass/Bug) -> Lichemoth (Grass/Bug)

Kernamite are sweet little creatures, only 5in tall. They live near bogs and temperate climates, like the base of a mountain, where they feed on moss and bog mud. They make homes in bog water and marsh grasses, where they live in independent groups. They have no trouble crawling on people, but may leave behind silky residue, which is what they secrete in order to stick to things. Their fur feels grassy, but their ears are hard and shell-like.

Chrysabud, football sized, are evolved from Kernamite who consume mud from a unique bog located at the top of a mountain in this region. They form a hard silky outer shell, keeping their legs free enough to attach and slowly move along different surfaces. Large leaf blades sprout from their ears and tail, sharp enough to ward off potential predators. In the wild, they typically stick to one tree to sap nutrients from until they can evolve again. Although quite slow and seemingly distant-minded, they still respond to their owners!

Lichemoth are pleasant-smelling, graceful creatures who are about 1-2ft long. They exclusively live in and around bogs, forests, and marshes. Their diet consists solely of fruit, berries, mineral-rich water, and carcasses. They are gentle, but some work will be needed to get one to be totally friendly. Their fur is soft and grassy, and their tails feel like moss! They enjoy holding moisture in their tails and manes, and often love to be outside during snowstorms. Despite this, they can only live in moist areas, and too cold temperatures will freeze their bodies solid, forcing them into hibernation.

Thank you for reading!! Here are the Shiny forms!! :D

[eaglesnick]

Green Behind The Ears

MYENERGI produces a list of green energy suppliers, wherein "green energy" is defined as energy that is produced by “hydroelectricity, solar power and wind power”. According to MYENERGI you can ask for renewable energy from a number of suppliers including, British Gas, EON, EDF and nPower.

Since the end of 1991 renewable energy has risen from just 2% of all electricity generation to over 40%, with December 2023 being the “15th month in a row where zero-carbon generation produced more than fossil fuel generation." (nationalgrid: 17/01/24)

Wonderful news for the environment: and wonderful news for the consumer, or so politicians would have us believe.

“Cheap electricity, clean air and insulated homes: Sunak outlines green financial 'vision'. (LBC: 03/11/21)

But here is the BIG CON.

1. The electricity you use at home comes from the ONE mains electricity cable in your street. There are NOT multiple cables outside your house in the same way there are different internet provider cables. The electricity supply you use in your house is the same as the electricity supply your neighbour uses regardless whether your supplier is “Green” or not.

“It's not possible to direct 'renewable' electrons to some homes and 'non-renewable' electrons to others.” (Which: How Green is your energy tariff?” 27/09/19

2.  Despite gas powered power stations providing under half of the total electricity generated in the UK, in recent years it “set electricity costs 84% of the time.” (ULC News: 06/09/22)

Renewable green electricity generation is far cheaper than electricity generated by fossil fuels, yet it is the price of gas-generated electricity that determines what we are charged for ALL our domestic electricity.

Despite paying lip service to “free markets” and “competition” the UK energy market is rigged in favour of the generators.

The UK operates a “marginal cost pricing system” and under this rigged system:

“…the wholesale price of electricity is set by the most expensive method needed to meet demand… In each half-hour trading period, each electricity generator bids the price it will accept to generate electricity, according to how expensive the electricity is to produce.

The bids are accepted in ‘merit order’ until the demand for electricity is met; the cheapest first, and the most expensive last. However, the price of all units of electricity is set according to the bid price of the most expensive unit needed to meet projected demand. (House of Commons Library: Why is cheap   renewable electricity so expensive on the wholesale market? 14/09/23)

In other words even if 90% of electricity demand is met by cheap renewable methods, ALL units of electricity are charged at the higher cost of fossil fuel generated electricity.

The crippling cost of domestic energy has led to 3.5 million households being in fuel poverty, with many in arrears and unable to pay for the energy they have used.  The energy suppliers claim they are “owed” £3billion in unpaid bills and are adding a levying a £16 on ALL households to cover their losses. 

So, although green energy is much cheaper to produce than that generated by traditional fossil fuel do not expect to see cost coming down anytime soon.

[bu1410]

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971." - Chapter IV.a - March 5th, 2024

Some photos of Iraq I've taken on 1983. We can recognize Baghdad, - Nassiryah - Ur - Euphrates river.

IRAQ 1983 In January 1983 I was then informed that my new destination would be Nasiryah, Iraq. I left for Rome, and then in Fiumicino - late in the afternoon - I boarded an old Boing 707 of IRAQI Airways, the only company still serving Baghdad: the war with Iran was underway, and the international airlines had suspended flights to Iraq. Baghdad airport was only open at night, so we landed with the lights off, and when we began the descent towards the landing strip we were ordered to darken the windows. Having completed the customs and immigration procedures quite quickly (considering the fact of being in an Arab country and in a state of war) I went out into the deserted hall, where I easily saw the sign with my name hoisted by a local driver. He took me to a hotel on Sadoun street, in a ghostly Baghdad: all the lights were off, very few vehicles were circulating, security forces checkpoints at every intersection.

DEPARTURE FOR NASSIRYAH The next day the Project Manager – a tall, lanky Italian, with an unkempt beard – came to pick me up at the hotel. He told me to pack my bags, we would leave for Nassiryah immediately by car, since domestic flights were suspended due to the war. Our destination was 380 km away from Baghdad, and the highway was damaged by the continuous passage of military vehicles heading South, to the border with Iran. Just outside Baghdad, we passed alongside a high earth barrier, a couple of kilometers long: inside, it was explained to me, the Tammuz nuclear plant, destroyed by an Israeli air force incursion in June 1981. The journey was monotonous, and we only stopped once to refuel and eat shawarma. We arrived in Nasiryah in the late afternoon, and immediately checked into one of the two villas that VOLANI had rented for the expats. Here, towards the evening, I met my Italian colleagues: around ten people in total, which would soon be reduced to 5 given that the project was in the finishing phase.

THE PROJECT In essence it involved the rehabilitation of a plant for the production of electrical cables. When I arrived, in January 1983, the work was almost finished. All that was missing was the installation of a heavy overhead crane in the main warehouse, the completion of the new electrical system, the covering and infilling of some buildings. In consideration of the recent departures, and the fact that there were only 5 expatriates left, it was decided by the Management in Baghdad that we would leave one of the two rented villas, and concentrate on just one. I received the instruction from the Project Manager to rent couples of trailers locally, load the furniture and air conditioners owned by the Company present in villa No. 2, and ship everything to the warehouse in Baghdad. Having rented the trailers (far from a simple matter in a country in a state of war), they were accompanied to the villa and dismantling and loading operation began. I was at construction site, it was already a hot afternoon even though it was only the beginning of March, when I saw in distance a guy dressed in a Western style, jacket, white shirt and black tie. He was chatting with a local worker, who was nodding in my direction. When they got close, the guy – clearly a policeman – asked me:

Are you the boss here?

Yes – I replied – what do you need?

Come with me – he said in a tone that allowed no replies. I followed him in my pick up until we arrived in the parking lot of a low building, steel bars on the windows. The policeman motioned for me to follow him. We entered the building, there were cops everywhere, and photographs of bad guys sticked to the walls, with writings in Arabic indicating how much money the police would pay if information was given leading to their capture. I was taken to the office of the Commander, Mr. Abdul Karim Al Jalaani. The office was enormous, the Commander sat behind a large mahogany desk installed on a riser. I was made to sit on an Arab sofa, at the other end of the room, I was perhaps fifteen meters away from Major Al Jalaani. He looked at myself like you look at an insect, and then he said to me in English:

Are you the one who gave the order to vacate my villa that I rented there?

I organized the transport - I said - but the order left from Baghdad.

Good - he replied - I stopped the transport, come back here as soon as possible with your managers, the ones who gave you the order to vacate the house without my permission. Major's assistant, who had remained near the door, motioned for me to follow him. I went out into the street, breathing a sigh of relief: I had just entered and exited the headquarters of the so-called ''Mukabarat'' or Saddam Hussein's Secret Service, and I was still alive and in a good shapel! I went to the villa, and saw the trailers parked on the corner of the street - the watchman came to meet me:

Sir - he told me - we were loading the furniture, when a car with some policemen arrived - they stopped us and then asked what we were doing - I said that we were loading our furniture to send it to Baghdad - they ordered us to stop and they said:

''If one of these trucks dares to move we will arrest everyone''

Understood Sir?? We couldn't disobey, Sir – these people don't joke!

I understand, I understand, don't worry.

I went to the Central Post Office, I absolutely had to call the Baghdad office. In the old post office, a building with broken glass, dirty and with peeling walls, there was no one except the employees. I was able to get through the Baghdad office pretty quickly. I explained to the PM what had happened - he tried to reassure me, and I told him that I wasn't worried at all.

Be sure - he said - tomorrow evening I will be in Nassiryah and we'll solve the problem.'' And so it was: in the evening the Project Manager arrived at the villa, accompanied by the head of our security service, a tall and large Iraqi, who had been a comrade in arms of the Major of Nassiryah Mukabarat. The next morning at 10.00 we were in the mega office of Major Al Jalaani. The meeting between the former comrades was warm: kisses on the cheeks, hugs, pats on the back, questions about the health of the family members, and then more hugs and then questions about the health of the family members all over again……Then we sat down on the usual sofa at 15 meters from the Major's desk, while the two old friends went on talking about old times, they exchanged phrases of which the PM and I understood nothing, and then burst into resounding laughter. All this for more than half an hour, then our Head of Security said, as if by chance:

Ahh sorry…Abdul Karim……by the way …I came to see you after so many years yes…but also for that stupid matter of the rented villa…you know…the one we want to leave…you know?

Abdul Karim as if falling from the clouds: ''Ah yes yes… I was informed by one of my collaborators that there were trailers ready to take away the furniture… but this is not done my friend… you should have warned, right?

You are perfectly right akooya (brother) but you know these Westerners don't always know what our customs are, so I ask you as the brother you are, to forgive them from the height of your goodness that everyone recognizes in you (How could he be the head of the Secret Services and being ''good'' no one has ever explained it to me)

Sure, sure - replied Abdul Karim - but you agree that there are conditions to be respected so that everything can be settled, right?

Of course akooya – said our Chief of Security.

Well - the Commander continued - come closer and I'll tell you what these conditions are (I didn't understand this, they could have continued to speak to each other ''remotely'' in Arabic, given that neither I nor the PM understood what they said to each other when they spoke their language)

The Head of Security sat down on a chair immediately prepared by the Major's attendent, and so began a dense exchange of sentences, which our friend only interspersed with ''naam…naam'' (yes…yes) Then it all ended, we got up and with big bows, touching our hearts with our right hand as a sign of ''how good of you to receive us and you didn't even let us get whipped'' we left the police station. In the car, our Head of Security informed us of the ''conditions'' posed by the Major to ''forget'' the nasty rudeness we had tried to do to him, taking away OUR furniture and OUR air conditioners from his villa, where we paid 6,000 USD /month rent + all expenses, including security. (We suspected that it was the watchman who alerted the police that the trailers had arrived for the move). Well for 4 additional months in cash, the complete re-painting of the house (exterior/interior/surrounding wall) and OUR air conditioners, the Commander would have forgiven our ''offence''. The PM muttered "WTF......" but we had to put on a good face because there were no alternatives. The next day - once all the furniture had been loaded onto the trailers - the painting work began, under the supervision of an Al Jalaani representative.

[dariyasite]

Application of bitumen in building

Bitumen has numerous applications in the construction industry, primarily serving as an adhesive and waterproofing material. Its versatile properties make it indispensable in various building-related functions. Here are some key applications of bitumen in construction:

1. Roofing and Waterproofing:

Bitumen 60/70 is extensively used in roofing systems to provide waterproof membranes for flat roofs. Traditional bitumen roofing membranes consist of layers of bitumen sprayed with aggregate, with a carrier fabric made of polyester or glass in between. Polymer-modified bitumen sheets have become the standard for flat roof waterproofing. Bituminous roofing membranes can also be recycled easily, enhancing their sustainability.

2. Wall Sealing:

Bitumen 60/70 plays a crucial role in sealing walls, providing protection against water and moisture intrusion. It is applied to substrates such as bathrooms and toilets, which are constantly exposed to moisture, to prevent water penetration and safeguard the underlying structures.

3. Floor and Wall Insulation:

Bitumen 80/100 insulation is widely employed for building waterproofing, both horizontally and vertically. It effectively prevents water penetration into floorboards and walls, offering reliable protection. Bitumen's chemical and physical properties make it easy to work with and highly durable.

4. Sound Insulation:

Bitumen's sound-absorbing properties find applications beyond construction. It helps reduce noise transmission, such as the sound of footsteps under floor coverings. Special tar mats in cars and elevators utilize Bitumen 80/100 for sound insulation.

5. Electrical Cable Insulation:

Bitumen's low electrical conductivity makes it suitable for use as an insulating material for electrical cables. It helps protect the cables and prevent electrical hazards.

6. Other Uses:

Bitumen 80/100 & bitumen 60/70 finds application in various other areas, such as the paper industry and the manufacturing of paints and varnishes. Its thermal insulation properties are beneficial in different contexts.

From an ecological standpoint, bitumen is highly regarded for its long lifespan. It remains a popular construction material, with significant demand both domestically and in international markets. The producer of bitumen in Iran exports a large percentage of its production to other countries such as Singapore, Dubai, Panama.

In residential construction, plastic-modified bitumen (KMB) coatings are commonly used for insulation. They compete with bitumen-free FPD (Flexible Polymer Disc) seals, which are easier to apply and offer faster repair options.

Overall, the applications of bitumen in the construction industry are extensive, ranging from roofing and waterproofing to sound insulation and electrical cable insulation. Its versatility and durability make it a valuable material in various building-related functions.

Important Considerations Before Using Bitumen:

1. Surface Preparation:

Before applying bitumen, it is crucial to ensure that the surface is clean, dry, and free from any contaminants. Even the presence of dust, dirt, or grease can hinder the adhesion of the bitumen coating and compromise the effectiveness of the seal. Additionally, the surface should be free from frost. If there are old incompatible coatings, they must be removed. In the case of older buildings, previous applications of bituminous paints may not provide a suitable surface for polymer-modified bitumen (PMB) coatings.

2. Repairing Cracks and Unevenness:

Prior to applying bitumen, any cracks or unevenness on the surface should be repaired using appropriate materials like repair mortar or leveling compounds. This ensures a smooth and uniform surface, promoting better adhesion and a more effective seal.

3. Additional Preparatory Measures:

In some cases, additional preparatory measures may be necessary. One option is to use a layer of synthetic resin on the coarse-pored bed or to apply a sealing slurry. A sealing slurry is a waterproof mixture of cement and plastic that allows water vapor to pass through. The advantage of using a sealing slurry is that it can adhere well to old bituminous coatings, providing an ideal substrate for applying a thick new bituminous coating.

By following these steps and ensuring proper surface preparation, you can optimize the adhesion and effectiveness of bitumen coatings in various applications.

What are the suitable means for repairing cracks and unevenness on the surface before applying bitumen?

There are several suitable means for repairing cracks and unevenness on the surface before applying bitumen. The choice of repair method depends on the severity of the damage and the specific requirements of the project. Here are some common methods for repairing cracks and unevenness:

1. Crack Fillers and Sealants:

For smaller cracks, crack fillers or sealants can be used. These materials, such as asphalt-based crack fillers or specialized concrete crack sealants, are designed to fill and seal cracks, preventing water infiltration and further damage. They are typically applied using a caulk gun or trowel.

2. Repair Mortar:

Repair mortars are suitable for filling larger cracks, holes, or areas of unevenness. These mortars are made from a blend of cement, sand, and additives to enhance adhesion and strength. They can be mixed with water to create a workable paste and then applied to the damaged areas using a trowel or other appropriate tools. Repair mortars are commonly used for repairing concrete surfaces.

3. Leveling Compounds:

Leveling compounds, also known as self-leveling underlayments or floor levelers, are used to create a smooth and level surface. These compounds are typically made from a blend of cement, fine aggregates, and additives. They have a fluid consistency that allows them to flow and self-level over uneven areas. Leveling compounds are commonly used to repair uneven concrete or subfloor surfaces before applying flooring materials.

4. Patching Mixtures:

Patching mixtures, such as asphalt patching compounds or repair mixes, are specifically designed for repairing asphalt surfaces. They typically contain a combination of asphalt binder, aggregates, and additives. These mixtures can be applied to fill potholes, repair damaged areas, or smooth out unevenness in asphalt surfaces.

5. Resurfacing:

In cases where the damage or unevenness is more extensive, resurfacing the entire surface may be necessary. This involves applying a new layer of bitumen or asphalt mixture over the existing surface to create a smooth and uniform finish. Resurfacing can help address multiple issues, including cracks, potholes, and unevenness.

It's important to follow the manufacturer's instructions and best practices when using any repair materials. Additionally, proper surface preparation, including cleaning and removing loose debris, is essential before applying any repair method.

ATDM CO is a manufacturer and exporter of Bitumen 60/70, offering three different quality grades available in drums, bags, and bulk quantities. Our products are classified into premium, second, and third types, each with varying production costs and facilities. We provide a wide range of options to accommodate different customer needs and volume requirements.

[thedryswan]

Sneak peek...

From an upcoming ficlet, featuring Jane Carter (from TAG Touch & Go)

---

From the top of the stairs leading from the pool to the villa, Jane stood and frowned at the sight of Thunderbird Two as it approached, returning home from a long and arduous rescue, mainly because there seemed to be Thunderbird One swaying beneath it, suspended on two high strength grapple cables, her wings extended and landing gear already deployed. The fact that the swimming pool was not sliding back to open up the launch bay was one other signal that Scott’s Thunderbird was not functioning correctly and the final confirmation was when Virgil flew over to the domestic runway on the other side of the island.

Running as fast as she could, she arrived at the hangar in time to see Thunderbird Two carefully lower Thunderbird One which was showing quite a few signs of damage. As there was no electrical power in the system, Scott had to use the emergency hydraulics to open up the cockpit door and disembark.

Her aircraft mechanic’s eyes wide in shock, Jane walked over to look first at him then at his Thunderbird.

“What. The. Hell have you done to it?”

“Well, I’m fine. Thank you so much for your concern. I could have invisible injuries which will only show up in a day or so, but don’t mind me.” he replied sarcastically.

“Do you? Have invisible injuries?”

“No, but if they’re invisible how would you tell?”

Jane sighed a moment, then reached up and pulled Scott down into a tight embrace, whispering “I’m sorry. Of course I’m concerned. Are you okay?”

“Yes” Scott straightened up and smiled down at her, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’m fine, I didn’t even need to get out of Thunderbird One at any point during the mission so she’s the only one that sustained any injuries.”

Turning back to the damaged craft, Jane slowly shook her head and began to walk around it, giving it a cursory inspection.

“This is made from cahelium.”

“That is correct.” Scott replied.

“Probably the toughest metal in the known universe.”

“Again, correct.”

“And somehow, you have managed to bend it.” she finished, gesturing to the buckled starboard wing.

“Um. Yeah.” Scott at least had the good grace to look sheepish.

Jane stopped abruptly, staring up at the port flank. “These dents had better not be the marks of deflected bullets I’m looking at here!”

Running round to stand behind her, Scott gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her on the spot.

“So maybe just look here instead, see? A little fire damage and scorched paintwork. No big deal.”

“Oh my god. Someone was shooting at you.”

“Just a little bit. But we’re all fine and back home.”

“Fine? Virgil had to airdrop you because you can’t land under your own propulsion. That hardly counts as fine.”

“Okay, I get it. But is there any way you could maybe fix it before Brains gets home tomorrow?”

A snort of laughter from the other side of the hangar interrupted them and looking over, they saw The Mechanic grinning widely.

“It’ll take us more than eighteen hours to straighten this mess out.” he stated. “We have spare wings on standby and the paintwork won’t take too long but the fuselage? No, you’re just going to have to find a good explanation when he asks what happened.”

[pioneerpowers]

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