#please let me merge or at least speed up to pass me stop riding my fucking blind spot oh my god

[stuckasmain]

I’m such a calm nice person until you get me behind the wheel of a car. How half these people got their license is absolutely beyond me.

[multifandoms27-blog]

Hawks falling in love for a mysterious motorcycle chick! ((Who's also an underground pro hero cuz why not)) (She/her or they/them which one you're most comfortable with)

((Got this idea from that one episode from steven universe where Pearl has a crush on this pink haired girl who rides a motorcycle lmao))

Ooooo I like this one, nonnie! I was driving home from work yesterday and saw a mysterious biker guy, actually. So it’s pretty ironic that I saw this in my inbox today lol. Also thank you for being my first request 🥺

Content: Reader is supposed to be gender neutral for this, so they/them. I wrote this whole thing in class under my desk though, and it’s not proofread, so let me know if you find any she/her. :)

Warnings: Some profanity, mild violence.

Notes: The Kawasaki Ninja is my favorite bike, btw. I might get one when I get older. Tron was kind of an inspo for this, at least the motorcycle part.

~*~*~*

Keigo stood rigid on top of a building, his wings slightly curling around him from behind. The wind ruffled through his feathers and hair, and slightly obscured his jacket. Glancing over the city lights as they bore a contrast to the night sky, he tried to spot any kind of abnormal activity.

Somebody had been riding around at night, being quite loud and disruptive. The press didn’t know if they were friend or foe, and blurred pictures were the only thing Keigo could go off of. He at least knew they rode some kind of motorcycle, if Keigo had to guess, he’d say it was a Kawasaki Ninja.

The person was in an all-black leather jumpsuit made for riding, and a full helmet to cover their face. It was Keigo’s job to find out who they were, and if they intended to do harm or save.

Every single rev of a motorcycle in the area made him perk up, but none of them were the one he was looking for. His wings fell in defeat as another passed him, once again not the one he was looking for.

“Maybe they changed bikes and outfits…?” Keigo muttered to himself.

As soon as he said that though, the familiar figure and bike raced past him, and towards another cyclist. Keigo grinned and flipped his visor down over his eyes. “Bingo.”

Taking off after them in the air, Keigo kept close to their trail. Obviously they were following the other biker with a purpose, a dangerous, high-speed chase beginning.

The bikers raced through the city, weaving between multiple cars. Keigo grit his teeth together, glancing at the involuntary witnesses to this chase. The biker in front of the mysterious one seemed innocent enough, so Keigo had pretty much answered his own question.

He was about to swoop down and grab the mysterious biker when they made a sharp right turn, following the biker in front of them. Keigo growled to himself before following close behind. This was now a one-way street that they were in, two lanes now. The mysterious biker merged into the next lane, and began to lean towards the innocent biker.

The innocent biker freaked out and turned into an alleyway, stopping before he could hit a wall at the end. The mysterious biker trapped him in and got off their bike. Keigo then fired off several feather plums, making a line between the mysterious biker and the innocent one. He descended from the air, glare on the one he just caught.

“Mind telling me what’s going on, here?”

“This man just robbed a house. I was trying to stop him.” The mysterious biker growled under their mask.

“And you have evidence of this how?”

“Got a tip and hid around the area for a little while, then I saw him walk in with empty pockets, and leave with full ones.”

Keigo paused and glanced at the man behind them. He was shaking, and his pockets did look full…

“Sir, empty those pockets.”

“E-excuse me?!” The male biker screamed. “That bastard just chased me a good ten blocks and you have the audacity to even believe one word they say?!”

“Please, it’s just a precaution, sir. Just doing my job.” Keigo put his hands up in mock surrender.

The guy quickly glanced around for any form of exit. Thats when Keigo knew this man wasn’t exactly innocent like he thought. He ran and tried to jump onto a fire escape, but Keigo’s feather plums rose and pointed at the man.

“Sorry sir, but it seems I was wrong. You’re gonna have to come with me.” Keigo glared at the man, then down at the mysterious biker.

Except, they were gone.

“Wha-?! Dammit, how did I miss them leaving…? Fuck it, at least I got this guy…”

~*~*~*

Keigo didn’t see them again for another week. Although, the press were happy to hear that this mysterious biker wasn’t a threat. Instead, now they praised them as some kind of “underground pro hero.”

However, he still got orders to keep an eye on them, and see if he could catch them again. He didn’t get very much information out of them the first time.

When they raced past his post, Keigo let a little smile slip before taking off after them. This was a different part of the city, so there would possibly be no small crime going on. Or, maybe none at all. He hadn’t received any word of anything going on, so he wondered what they could possibly be up to.

Keigo followed the biker until eventually they stopped at a bar. Parking in the back, they got off their bike while Keigo landed behind them.

“I knew you’d follow me.”

“Oh? How come?”

“Cause I know you’ve been tailing me for a while now.” The biker turned to look at the pro hero, helmet visor obscuring any view of their eyes. “Why?”

“Orders. Press wanted to know if you were friend or foe.”

“Oh, yeah, been seeing that shit all over my news feed lately. Honestly people just need to chill the fuck out.” The biker shrugged.

“Well now that they know you’re a friend, they’ll begin to calm down more.”

“Who said I was a friend?” The biker leaned slightly against their black bike.

Keigo narrowed his eyes through his own visor. The bikers shoulders bounced with laughter.

“I’m just kidding, don’t get your feathers ruffled.”

Keigo felt his heart tug at the bird pun.

“Besides, if I didn’t know you were following me, I would’ve just gone to the shitty bar down the street from my house. But, I’m nice, so I dragged you here.” The biker shrugged.

“I’m not sure if I can have drinks on the job.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can’t, Hawks. But you can at least have fun.”

His feathers shuddered at the way they said his hero name. “I have plenty of fun.”

“Sure. Being No. 2 hero leaves lots of room for fun, I bet.” The biker crossed their arms. “Well fine, if you wont go into the bar with me, then let me get your number.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Keigo asked.

“Maybe. It all depends on your response.”

“…I’d like to know what you look like first.”

“So you will give me your number?”

“Only if you take off your helmet.” Keigo narrowed his eyes.

The biker sighed and popped off their helmet. Shaking their head for their hair to reform, they opened up their eyes to give Hawks a narrowed stare.

Keigo thought their (color) eyes were stunning - they stopped him in his place. The biker gave him a small smile, which tugged at his heart.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I uh…what’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” They then held their hand out expectantly.

“What, you wanna handshake? You already know-“

“No!” (Y/n) laughed. “Your number.”

Keigo smiled and chuckled himself. “Right, right.”

Writing his number on a piece of paper and handing it to them, (Y/n) read it over before pocketing the paper.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with?” (Y/n) motioned to the bar behind them.

“Sorry champ. Not tonight. But hey, give me call, yeah?”

(Y/n) nodded. “Yeah.”

Keigo then flew off. He felt like he got enough information to satisfy him, but maybe not his agency. However, he knew that over time he’d gather the correct information. Just, for now, he was more focused on that call he was going to receive from the mysterious biker, (Y/n).

[red1culous]

Curved Mirror

Sometimes when it got too much to bear she would take to the beach. She donned her running shoes and ran till she ran out of breath…or sand. More often than not it was sand. And sometimes she cursed her stamina and strength wishing she could for once in her life be the weak one. She wished she was the one being comforted instead of doing the comforting. She ran until her lungs gave way, or her legs did, or she just didn’t need to anymore. This was one of those days.

Coming to an abrupt halt she bends over grasping her knees and greedily sucks in salty air into her lungs. 

She is acutely aware of the noises around her. Living as a super spy did that to you. The wind, the waves, the seagulls rasping overhead, the old pier creaking. The cold wind blowing through the tall dried grass causing it to crackle and hiss. She heard it all. But she wasn’t aware of the new sound that presented itself. It blended in with the others that to her ears it sounded like nothing. 

As she stands in a filmy sheet of mist she hears it again, slight but distinct. And again. At first she cannot identify it. It was a pounding, crunching sound that came from a part of the beach that she had already passed. She presses her brows together and instinctively reaches for the tiny dagger she had sewn into the waistband of her pants. 

“Hey—“

The sound catches the breeze and is carried away on the wind. Like an eery whistle she hears the voice but cannot recognise the words. And through the mist that breaks and fragments she sees a figure trotting up towards her. Tendrils of mist floating about around the dark shadow.

“Hey—“ 

Again the figure calls out but the roar of the ocean swallows the sound. As it comes into view Natasha sees a woman with a gentle face and a welcoming smile. She is wearing a red cap, red shorts and a coach jacket zipped up to the top with the words LIFEGUARD emblazoned across the front of it. Natasha blinks a few times as if waking from a daze.

“Ma’am are you ok?” the stranger speaks tentatively reaching out to touch Natasha’s upper arm. She stops when Natasha flinches at the movement.

“I’m—“ Natasha stalls, “…what’s with the umbrella?” she continues buying herself some time.

The stranger furrows her brows but her smile grows a little wider. “It’s umm, it’s raining. There’s a storm coming and the beach is closed,” she raises the umbrella and opens it for Natasha to take. Natasha eyes it suspiciously for a moment before meeting the strangers eyes again. “Ma’am you’re soaked…” she adds.

“Please—“ Natasha’s voice comes out hoarse. She takes the umbrella.

“‘Scuse me?” the lifeguard asks.

“Natasha. My name’s Natasha. ‘Ma’am’ makes me sound ancient” she says as she notices that it was indeed raining. The wind was so cold that the raindrops on her face felt like tiny knives. How had she not noticed until now?

“Wanna get out of here?” the question is accompanied with a finger pointing up to an already blackened sky.

To Natasha’s surprise, Y/N, as the lifeguard introduces herself, grabs hold of Natasha’s hand and leads her towards her truck. The wind by this time had started to pick up speed and it pushed back slowing their progress. It felt as if they were trudging through molasses as the wet, powdery sand kept sucking their feet deeper and deeper into its slippery holes. Eventually they do make it into the vehicle and Y/N sighs in relief as she turns the ignition and heater to max. 

Rubbing her hands over her arms to generate some heat she reaches behind to the backseat and pulls out a neatly folded towel passing it to Natasha. 

“You first” Nat insists.

“Oh no. Don’t worry about me. This is what I train for. I’ll be fine.” She moves the towel closer to Natasha basically shoving the material into her hands. 

Nat chuckles at the situation she has gotten herself into. She was being rescued this time. How ironic, she thinks to herself. She takes the towel, an amused smile painted across her lips, and dries the ends of her hair, neck and front with it.

She also takes this opportunity to properly look at her saviour. Y/N is resting a clipboard against the steering wheel marking off checkboxes and scribbling down some notes. The wet hair that pokes out of her cap is stuck to her face and neck and from them fat drops of water drip onto her already soaked through clothes. Natasha feels slightly guilty for causing such a fuss but she was somewhat enjoying the whole damsel in distress act.

“Like what you see?” Y/N asks and the question has Natasha rapidly blinking as she feels heat rise to her cheeks having been caught staring.

“W-what?” she stutters. 

“I said, “do you like the sea?”” Y/N chuckles and chucks the clipboard into the backseat removing her cap and combing her hands through wet locks. “I see you running here maybe 3 times every week?”

“Oh…” Natasha smiles back, “yea I guess so.”

Silence fills the void but Natasha doesn’t think it’s at all uncomfortable. In fact, this is the most comfortable she’s felt in a long time.

“Right then…” Y/N breaks the silence, “where’s your car I can drop you off there” she puts the car into reverse before turning to look at Natasha expectantly.

“It’s umm….I didn’t bring a car” she lies.

“Oh ok…umm, where’s home then I’ll give you a ride.” 

“It’s umm…in the city” Natasha blushes. She can’t believe she’s acting like this.

“T-that’s a 40 minute drive. You walked here?” she asks incredulous.

“I umm…” she almost comes clean but Y/N cuts her off.

“Hmm don’t worry about it I’ll drive you there” she says smiling as she pulls out onto the road.

“You really don’t have to, Y/N.” Natasha offers really feeling bad this time.

“It’s my pleasure. Plus I live in the city too so it’s not like I’m going out of my way” she says opening a flask of coffee and taking a sip. “Do you want some coffee? It’ll warm you up a little” she adds shaking the canteen gently.

“I don’t know…I’m very particular about my coffee” Natasha laughs. Any other day she would be cringing at how she was behaving with a total stranger.

“Wow I am sending her home and she disrespects the coffee without even tasting it” Y/N fake pouts in response.

“OK give it here” Natasha reaches for the coffee and takes a small sip. “This tastes like piss water…,” she gags, “you know coffee needs to have coffee in it for it to be called coffee, right?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “And the sass! Ok to be fair I woke up late for my shift and didn’t exactly have time to brew proper coffee.” She makes a half air quote with one hand at the last few words.

“How about…we stop at this diner along the way and I get you a proper cup of coffee.” The question comes out sounding more like a command. “I mean, if you want to…it’s umm, the least I can do” she quickly adds.

Y/N doesn’t answer for a beat and it has Natasha cursing herself internally. 

What is going on with you!?

“Ok”

“Ok?” Natasha double checks.

“Yup” Y/N smiles stealing a glance at Natasha, “why not.”

Natasha beams as she leans back in her seat peering out the window into the inky darkess of night. She imagines the sky and the sea merging into one another. A flash of lightning strikes and it illuminates the surf breaking onto the beach. What she also sees as she looks out the window is a reflection of herself. She doesn’t recognise it at first. It’s smiling back at her. Genuinely smiling. She’s actually  smiling.

You are really smiling!

For the first time in what felt like weeks she let herself smile. 

---

Tagging: @jumbojamba47  @natasharomanoffismywife  @imnotasuperhero  @cybeleceto  @silverwing2522  @thelastavenger-3000  @peggycarter-steverogers  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519  @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx   @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain @higherfurther-romanova

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Lessons on the Road~

(A Kaishi Au Special where we give a little flash forward into the future for a little teen Kaishi action. Of course there’s that sweet bonding with Kai...somewhat lol)

Au: Kaishi

Part: Fifteen

Theme: Comedy

The sweet holds of dreamland weren’t lasting as long as Chisaki had previously believed when he realized someone was gently shaking him from his rest. Kai groaned and slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry figure above him. “Angel?” He began rubbing his eyes. “Uhhh no...mom/dad is in the kitchen right now making breakfast with grandpa. You’ve overslept past when you told me that we would be going dad. Can you get up now please?” Kaishi begged with anticipation. Kai groaned and sat up in the bed. “Can’t we just do this tomorrow please? I’m exhausted kid.” Kaishi furrowed his brows in frustration and quickly shook his head. “No way! You told me that yesterday when we were supposed to go. Today is the day, you promised!” Kai slid back down until he was flat on the bed again, and pulled the cover over his head. “Don’t whine like a brat. I’m just going back to sleep for an extra hour. If I agree to leave you in charge today, will you let me relax???” There was a moment of silence as Kaishi seriously considered his dad’s offer. He was never left in charge of the entire Hassaikai before! However, the 16 year old wasn’t going to fall for his dad’s bribery today. No not today because it was the most important day of his life. This was a necessity and Kaishi was not backing down. “If you don’t get out of bed, I’m gonna go tell mom/dad on you.” Kai shot up and glared at his son’s smug expression. “Snitches don’t roll well in gangs, brat. I thought I taught you that.” 

“Yeah but negotiations and blackmail vibe well with bribery old man.” The boy crossed his arms proudly knowing he had won the fight. Kai rolled his eyes in annoyance and reluctantly got out of bed. “Alright, go get ready. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.” Kai directed him as he headed to the closet and searched for an outfit for the day. Kaishi smiled widely and rushed downstairs where you sat in the kitchen with Pops discussing the weather for the week. “Oh hey kiddo!” Pops greeted Kaishi happily. “Hey grandpa. Hey mom/dad guess what!?” He slammed his hands on the table in excitement. “Uhhh...Ishida wants to go on a date with you?” You asked in confusion. Kaishi began stuttering and turned his head in a feeble attempt to hide his embarrassment. “N-no! I mean...I wish, but no. Dad said today is the day!” He turned back to look at you in Pops with excitement. “That’s great sweetheart. Here, take my car. It’s a lot safer and more spacious than that old Mercedes.” You slid your keys across the table when a familiar gloved hand reached down and grabbed them before Kaishi could. “No way, absolutely not. My insurance is better than you, and on top of that I just had the Cedes serviced and detailed.” Kai tossed your keys back to you and went to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Alright, we’re heading out.” Kai bid you and Pops goodbye. Kaishi rushed out the door and Kai stopped before leaving the house to peek back at you and Pops. “By the way, Hydrangeas.” 

“Hydr...what?” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Hydrangeas are the flowers I want on my grave.” He chuckled at his own joke and you rolled your eyes. “Oh c’mon, you two will be fine, you big goofball.” Suddenly the car horn sounded loudly followed by Kaishi shouting ‘Let’s get a move on, old man!’ 

Kai sighed and headed out to the car. As soon as he got inside he immediately buckled his seatbelt. Then he turned to look at Kaishi’s confused expression. “Don’t turn this on until you buckle your seatbelt.” Kaishi did as he was told before getting the nod of approval from his father and starting the car up. For a second, Kai was feeling relieved at how smoothly Kaishi pulled out of the driveway and started down the road. That was until the constant stopping and starting began of course. Kai was staring at the road with an uncomfortable expression. “Son I don’t mean to undermine your progression, but I need you to hit the gas and stop braking because the speed limit is 55 on this street.” Kaishi nervously eased the car forward, and it took him at least 10 to 15 minutes minutes before he even made it up to at least 45 mph. Kai sighed and stared as the pair passed by a new speed limit sign listing 65 mph. “Getting on the main road now, speed up.” Kai directed. “Use your turn signal, look in your mirrors. Signals kid, signals. What did I say?” Kaishi was internally panicking as he tried to do both at the same time. Not going over where everything in the car was before they left was a mistake. Kai learned this when Kaishi almost swerved into a car next to the two. Kai felt small hives beginning to pop up on his arms as he scratched helplessly and considered getting in the driver’s seat instead. 

Kai was never one for anxiety, just stress. However, riding in the car with your inexperienced teenage son can really bring out the fear in you no matter who you are. Soon he realized hitting the imaginary brake wasn’t enough to stop Kaishi from speeding along even faster than before. “How am I doing dad?” He asked hopefully from the driver’s side. “Uh...just take us to the grocery store and park the car.” Kaishi’s face fell into instant sadness when his dad said this. God help Kai because there is one thing in the world he’s not immune to: You and your son’s puppy-dog face. “Relax brat, I didn’t say you couldn’t take us home. I was just asking so I can pick something up real quick.” Kai lied smoothly and internally sighed when Kaishi’s expression changed to happiness. He didn’t expect it, but things seemed to be a little better by the time they made it to the store. In fact, the kid was a natural at pulling into the parking spot (considering the store parking lot wasn’t as populated as usual today) but the real issue came when he backed out of the spot...

and hit one of the cars in the lot.

“OH FUCK!” He immediately started panicking while Kai’s eyes just widened.

“My Mercedes …” 

“I’m so so sooo sorry dad!”

“Watch your language by the way. Just uh...hang on a moment.”

“What are you doing? ARE YOU CALLING THE COPS DAD?!?!?!”

“No you dunce! We’re yakuza, why in the hell would I...I’m getting in contact with my insurance company. We’re going to settle this when the other driver comes out of the store.”

“No we’re not...” Kaishi whipped the car into drive and sped out of the parking lot, ignoring the absolute panic on his father’s face. “What the absolute hell!? Are you trying to worsen the situation!?” Kai spouted off before looking back to see if they were being followed. “Slow down, SLOW DOWN AND PULL OVER, I’M DRIVING US BACK!” Kaishi completely ignored him as he expertly merged onto a main road and maneuvered his way around the cars. Once he was finally sure there was nobody behind them, he slowed down a bit. “If you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I would kill you for this.” Kai scolded him as he went to quickly buckle his seatbelt. The two of them ignored the sound of the damaged car part dragging along the road until they made it home. “So uh...I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re probably not going to let me drive again for a while huh?” Kaishi laughed nervously while Kai just glared at him and held his hand out. “Gimme my keys. I’ve got a long drive to the shop tomorrow to fix this car. Not to mention I have to change the tags on it since you wanted to speed away.” Kaishi sighed, turned the car off, handed the keys to Kai, and walked to the front door of the house with Kai trailing slowly behind him. You thought he’d speak to you as soon as he opened  the door but your son just rushed past you and went straight to his room. Kai collapsed beside you on the couch and laid his head on your shoulder with an exhausted sigh. “So I’m gonna take it that this didn’t go so well huh?” You joked lightly with him as you reached over to rub his head. “Absolutely not. Next time it’s your turn to teach the brat to drive. He drives worse than Kurono.” You laughed at him and shook your head. “Kai, go apologize to him. Even though you’re probably frustrated, he’s probably even more so nervous after learning with you.” 

You gently coaxed him and he complied. “Very well, I’ll go make amends. But what I said still stands Angel. It’s your turn next time.” He huffed before heading off towards Kaishi’s bedroom. You shook your head with a smile and settled back into the couch to relax. 

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

[tackyink]

Here’s what would amount to chapter 1 of the fic I started the other day if I ever decide to work on it seriously. It’s the same two scenes as last plus a new one, so it’s very short, but I’ve laughed a lot writing it.

I also realized this thing has a lot of potential to merge with Inked on Skin by Wano and I can’t believe I’m here, free at last after five years busting my ass, and suddenly thinking it would be cool to make a whole fic verse with my One Piece OCs.

=======================

It was the sunniest it had been in weeks. Clear skies, twenty-seven degrees, calm clouds and weak northwestern winds blowing from Skypiea.

Veleta had left a note on the dining table telling potential travelers to feel free to use her home to rest while she was away, and to please not touch the meteorological station next to the vegetable garden. The connection to her dad’s team had been lost for six months already, so there wasn’t much for her to do and she was dying of boredom, but he might come back for it one of these days. Who knew? Not her!

She adjusted one last time the straps of her swimming vest and backpack. Her grin gleamed under the sun almost as much as the pair of riding goggles she was wearing.  

“Ready, set…” She gripped the handles of her waver firmly. “Go!”

She hit the gas and rode in a straight line towards the horizon. The White-White Sea cloud formations had some variation from day to day, but she had already determined that that was the shorter point between her home and absolute nothingness.

Other people might have called her suicidal and wondered what drove her to do this, but if Veleta had to be compared to one of the characters of the tabletop game her dad liked to play when they had visitors, she would have rolled 20 Intelligence and 2 Wisdom.

It took her a good half an hour to reach the place she was shooting for, and when she got there, with the absolute confidence of a fool with too much pride in her ideas, she drove off the white clouds into the endless blue, and a few seconds after she started dropping at breakneck speed, she hit the special button she had built into the waver and a parachute shot out of it, slowing her descent until it was safe to kick back and enjoy the view.

There was only sky, distant clouds and water as far as the eye could see, with a few dots sailing through it that must have been ships, and the promise of an island, a real island made of Vearth, far, far way. Veleta made it a mental goal to sail there.

She was elated. Her heart pounded inside her chest with excitement, and her face hurt from smiling so much. Her world was about to get so big!

And then one of the ropes securing the parachute to the waver snapped, and she was freefalling again.

With a screech that was probably heard in at least two seas above and another couple below, Veleta finished her leisurely descent by crashing into the ocean with an upturned waver and getting her backpack’s mesh caught on the breath dial exhaust. On one hand, it was a good thing that she was floating thanks to the swimming vest. On the other, she had fallen face down, and the extra buoyancy wasn’t doing her much good, considering she couldn’t turn around.

Devil Fruits weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

—

Eustass Kid was watching time pass on the prow of the Victoria Punk when he saw a projectile falling from the sky and into the sea with a spectacular splash.

He squinted at the shape of a small boat ahead and asked Killer, “The fuck is that?”

—

As it turned out, ‘that’ happened to be a pink haired girl and her failing vehicle, though a girl who didn’t know she was being appraised when she was caught in a fishing net and dragged onto a dry surface. In fact, she was having a pretty hard time staying conscious at all, and the only energy she could divert from that task was being wasted on feeling grateful that she’d been found.

When she was pulled out of the water, still tangled in the net but able to move, Veleta spent the next three minutes or so coughing out water and doing her best to hurl out the contents of her stomach into the ocean and not on these kind strangers’ ship. Said strangers gathered near her and their conversation turned increasingly confused, but they all stared at her from a distance. Perhaps the vomit had something to do with it.

She gasped for air when water stopped coming out and turned around to face her saviors and thank them, but what came out of her mouth was another screech when she saw that she was inside of a fish’s maw.

“OHGODWE’REGETTINGEATEN!” She reached for her backpack to pull out something to defend herself, but she managed to get even more tangled in the net, and she stopped struggling when she noticed no one else shared her urgency. “Huh?”

“We’re in a figurehead,” a man hiding behind a striped mask explained.

“This is a ship?!” She gaped, looking around her again. She could’ve never told that she wasn’t in a real fish. “Oh, excuse my rudeness!” She bowed, still on her knees, or tried to. Not a lot of freedom of movement inside a fishing net. “I’m Lockheed Veleta.” She flashed them a smile. “Thank you so much for saving me!”

Nobody replied right away, as if she had said something awkward. Did she make a faux-pas already? She had known people from the Blue Sea, but maybe they had a different culture. She sure as heck had never met anybody who dressed like them. Or… had a stitched mouth… but she didn’t stare, because that would surely have been rude. Maybe he had been in an accident. Maybe it was a fashion? She wanted to learn about those too. There wasn’t a lot of variety in her little island.

“How did you do that?” The redhead asked. He had a pair of goggles, too, and Veleta recognized in him a fellow stickler for safety measures. The rest of the men had been eyeing him when they weren’t staring at Veleta, so she assumed he was their leader.

“Do what?”

“Drop in the middle of the ocean!”

“Oh, of course! My parachute failed,” she said, lifting a little the tarp. It was a bit cramped inside the net, between it, the waver, her bag and herself, but she was chipper nonetheless. “I thought I was done for!”

“What are you on about?” He replied, sounding increasingly irritated. “We’re at open sea, you have to have fallen from somewhere!”

“Oooh, right! Sorry, I didn’t explain myself very well, did I?” She laughed at her own silliness. “I come from an island in the White-White Sea!”

There was another awkward silence as their confusion grew. Veleta’s smile didn’t waver.

“The White-White Sea?” The man in the mask repeated.

“Yeah! You know, where the sky islands are?” There were no signs of recognition in their faces. “People in the Blue Sea know there are islands above… right?”

A gloomy looking man wearing a hood with cute ears, conceding her point, telling the others, “She has wings.”

“I thought they were an accessory,” said the one with the stitched mouth.

“What? No! I can move them, see?” She did so as she pointed at her back.

The redhead didn’t look convinced. “Then why didn’t you fly down instead of freefalling?”

“I didn’t mean to! The parachute was supposed to work!” She was very surprised that these people were being so skeptical. “And I can’t fly! Nobody can, that’s scientifically impossible.”

The captain looked at her with a mix of disdain and disbelief and told the men, “I can’t be assed with this. Kick her off, skin her alive, do whatever you want.”

He began to walk towards the throat of the gaping fish mouth, and Veleta eyed warily the two men that approached her, but she relaxed when they only let her out of the net.

“Oh, thank you so, so much!” She said again, this time bowing properly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your kindness!”

Veleta didn’t know why that was, but they looked mighty uncomfortable every time she thanked them. It had to be a cultural thing. Something to investigate. Maybe she needed to be more subtle? Some people were easily embarrassed by open gratitude.

Well, no matter, they seemed friendly people, even if their captain was a little grouchy. And he had a right to be, Veleta was intruding in their ship, after all. She pulled her waver upright and tested the wood to make sure it wasn’t broken. The sooner she could stop bothering them, the better.

She was gathering the tarp and ropes and shoving them at the back of the waver when the masked man said, “I’ve never seen that type of vehicle.”

Veleta was very glad to break the silence and even more to explain how her vehicle worked. “It’s a waver! We use them to sail in the sea clouds.” She twisted the handle a little so they could see the wind blowing out of the exhaust. The waver escaped her grasp for a second, but she caught it before it could launch itself towards one of her saviors. “They’re very practical, but it takes a lot of time to learn to ride one.”

Apparently, the captain hadn’t gone very far yet, because that caught his attention and he walked a few steps towards the group just to say, “Doesn’t look like you’re any good at it.”

Veleta laughed. “That’s a good one!” She had made an impressive entrance from their point of view, she realized. And she could see the gleam of curiosity in his eyes, even if he wasn’t saying anything. “But they aren’t made to fly!”

He didn’t look very happy with her response. “How’s it work? I don’t see an engine.”

“Aha!” Her eyes lit up. This was her favorite part each time she met explorers from the Blue Sea. “Here’s the trick!” She crouched behind the waver and fiddled with something inside the exhaust pipe until a piece came loose. She took out the dial that powered it and showed it to the crew. “It’s a breath dial!” She pushed the top, and it expelled a gust of wind strong enough in the captain’s face to make him take a step back. She offered it up for examination. “It’s really easy to use.”

He took the dial as his men watched him test it a few times with interest. “Not bad,” he said.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” mumbled the man with the stitched mouth.

“Cool, isn’t it?” Veleta said with a grin, and she extended her hands towards the redhead to take the dial back.

The man looked at the dial, then at Veleta with a grin that could have mirrored her own if she looked like she was about to snap someone’s neck every time she smiled, which she did not. “I’ll take this as repayment.”

“Eh?” She uttered in confusion, which gave way to panic when she realized he wasn’t giving it back and he was walking away again. “EEEH?!”

“Toss her out!” He barked without looking back, motioning at the sea with a hand.

The rest of the crew didn’t waste a moment to drop the waver back in the water, grab Veleta from under her arms and launch her onto her little vessel.

“Wait!” She yelled. “I need that dial to sail! You can’t leave me here!”

But the men had stopped paying attention to her the moment they flung her away. The strange ship that had rescued her unceremoniously sailed past her, dangerously rocking her waver and abandoning her to her luck in the middle of an unknown sea.

[niyascribes]

the babysitter (two)

summary: when Steve finally gets Bucky to the compound safely he calls on some help from a friend to watch him until everything calms down 

information: mutant!WocxBucky, a made up time period in the middle of civil war, slow burn

masterlist| one/ two/ three

The ride was silent and I could tell that he was trying so hard to make me feel comfortable. It was adorable. I couldn’t wait to get in his head. I never look forward to using my powers until Bucky. He was like a big puzzle hidden underneath a big hard man.

“Where are we going?” Bucky’s voice breaks my trance off the road. We got out of New York over an hour ago. I honestly had no idea but I decided to make up one quick.

“D.C,” I say remembering the dusty loft that I left in a hurry. I merge on the correct highway backing up my word. He doesn’t respond after that keeping his eyes on the window. I take a quick glance at the clock 3:26. Another hour passed and I started to notice how fidgety Bucky is. His leg is jumping and he rubbed his hands together. His eyes kept shifting from me and the road and his breathing picked up.

I was about to say something until he did “Let me drive.” Bucky says quickly but roughly. 

“Bucky you don’t-”

“Let me drive.” He says pleading cutting me off. I quickly take a glance at his pleading eyes “Please.” He finally begs.

I let out a sigh “Fine, fine” I say pulling over to the shoulder of the road. We quickly switch seats and Bucky takes up the driving. It’s weird for me to sit in the passenger seat, I usually ride solo. I take glances at Bucky sitting in the driver's seat looking more comfortable with his right arm holding the steering wheel. He’s calm.

“You gonna tell me where I’m going or do I have to follow the signs,” Bucky asks with a sigh not taking his eyes off the road. 

“There’s an exit a few miles up, take it and bare left.” I direct and he nods. Bucky is a true soldier. Any direction I gave he followed with ease. Great listener, dually noted. With Bucky’s good sense of direction and his slight need for speed attitude, we made it to my loft in no time.

Bucky showed no emotion pulling into my old looking building. Bucky turned off the car with a sigh, I take no time getting out the car. Bucky followed behind letting me go into the building first and guiding him to my door at the end of the hall. 

I haven’t been here in over 8 years. Hopefully, no one has been waiting up for me.

“I’ll go in first. Watch my back.” Inform Bucky and he responds with a nod. I jump and grab the key off the top of the doorframe. I unlock the door and I and Bucky cautiously walk into the grey dusty apartment checking the safe rooms off as we go. I walk into my bathroom and an envelope was taped on my mirror. In the middle of the white envelope in black ink, it read ‘sicario’My breath hitches when I breathe out and I tear off the letter.

“The rest of the house is clear,” Bucky tells me when I come out the bathroom. 

I give him a solid nod and sigh “Well, make yourself at home.” I say before walking to my room and setting the letter on my dresser and kicking. 

I walk back out to the living room and see Bucky awkwardly sitting on the couch tense and all. “Do you ever relax? You’re so uptight.” I say observing him.

He lets out a chuckle “I don’t think I can relax,” Bucky admits still sitting inattention. I walk over and sit on the couch with him. 

“Maybe I can help?” I suggest with a straight face and a cocked eyebrow. He looks nervous, but his eyebrows furrow in slightly. I sit on my knee’s beside him and bring my hands to his chest but I stop “C-can I touch you?” I ask softly and he nods slowly. I fill myself with energy most of it coming from the earth. I can feel my eyes change from the natural hazel to a blazing grey. It all happens in a flash I press my hands on his chest and his shoulders sink into his body, his eyelids hang low lazily.

“What are you doing to me?” Bucky tries to ask worried but comes out soft and calm. 

“I slowed your breathing which triggered your body to relax,” I tell him taking my hands off his chest. He doesn’t say anything else, he just looks confused.“I have psychic abilities, meaning I can do a lot of things with my mind” I tell him sitting back in the couch. He nods slowly, I could feel the confusion from him which makes me shake my head. “I can control minds, have mental conversations, and I have the power of memory manipulation,” I say calmly not wanting to relive how I found out about my powers.

Bucky looks at me “Is that why Steve stuck me with you, to help with my memory?” Bucky asks.

I chuckle “I think he thought of me because I’ve fought you-well The Winter Soldier twice and won.” I brag with a smirk and I see the confusion fall back on his face “But don’t worry your pretty little head about that. The guest room is down the hall and the second door on the right.” I inform him getting off the couch. “Try and sleep alright,” I comfort awkwardly pat his shoulder and walk away.

I sigh as I close my room door behind me. The unopened letter taunted me on the dresser. They only called me sicario. I neatly opened the envelope and pulled out the clean folded paper. No other handwriting blemished the paper beside the date scribbled at the bottom.

sicario,

we see you’ve been compromised. therefore we need to let you go. you knew this day was coming, we’re aware you planned it. we don’t wanna hear one peep from you. we have relocated and don’t bother looking for us. all know acquaintances are now dead (from the destruction of building) they all missed you dearly. don’t be angry sicario, they died peacefully. just a reminder we’re always watching you. you are now dismissed.

-dated 12/25

It’s exactly there style brutal. Like taking a shot of vodka without a chaser. It goes down smooth but it burns your whole chest. Of course, they knew I lead the Avengers right to them, I wasn’t that stealthy. A month and a half before I joined the Avengers.

They knew.

At least most of them are dead. I sat on the bed and let my thoughts take over. A scream of agony ran through my whole loft. I shot up and ran to the room Bucky was in. Bucky layed on top of the comforter clothes still on shoes still tied. He wasn’t planning on going to sleep. He thrashed above the sheets as tears spilled from his tightly shut eyes. Another scream erupted from him which made me jump in shock.

I stop starring and make myself useful. I quickly make way to Buckys side and take in a deep breath bracing for the pain. I place my hand on Bucky's head diving my mind into his.

The pain came in great masses. It was both physical and metal. I started to feel my own tears fall down my face as I endured the pain as well. I tried not to live the dream but rather get Bucky out of it. I began screaming his name both mentally and physically. The pain grew worse once Bucky started to wake. I felt the pain of his consciousness and subconsciousness in one setting.

I came back to reality with one last cry of his name. I stumble forward on the bed bracing myself.

“Are you alright?” I ask Bucky as I hold my head in pain. My blurry vision showed he was now sitting up

“I should be asking you that.” Bucky adds I think for humor then quickly adds “I’m fine. Thank you.” He kept his gaze on me as I recouped. I saw him hesitate before asking “Are you okay?” Bucky asks.

I look up at him and saw worried smeared across his face.

“Yeah Bucky, I’m good,” I say before walking out of the room back into my own.

I saw what they did to him. How they tortured him. Even hung the idea of getting out over him. Hydra fucking sucks, this I know.

I glance at the time on my phone 5:28 AM. Helping Bucky took longer than I expected. I throw my leather jacket over my shoulders and strut back where Bucky was.

“Let's go, Barnes. We’ve got stuff to do.” I say and he follows me out without question.

||||||||||||

tags🏷

@doestheroadwork

[veridium]

sweet talk 101

PHEW. OKAY. 

Part ten? HOLY SHIT? We are in part 10 of this thing. I am so delighted. So, here, have some fluff with a light touch of melodrama (as is my specialty). @bitchesofostwick and I love torturing our kids with sweetness followed by sourness, apparently. 

ON THIS EPISODE: Cass and Liv are doing the whole friendship.com thing, though Liv can’t help but still wonder what her new pal’s plans are. One thing she knows for sure is that all her assumptions are quickly flying out the window. A text from her Mom reminds her of the fragility of her privacy and her expectations. Meanwhile, sweet bb Ellinor prepares for a totally casual and not at all scintillating project meeting with her blonde, handsome partner. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

Episode title brought to you by my falling back down the rabbit hole of Cute is What We Aim For’s music, especially this particular song. 

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 

-- 

A week after Ellinor and Cullen are assigned their project --

2:57pm. Dammit, it’s 2:57pm. Call it already, Professor Lucas.

“Alright, that will be all.”

That is all she hears before her mind goes exclusively to packing up her lecture notebook, pencil bag, and canteen into her backpack. It’s get the hell out of dodge time. Up out of her seat and out the door as the Professor warns about the midterm study sessions coming up. Yes, yes, fine, she’ll ace the practice exam as usual. That doesn’t matter.

It’s Tuesday, and she’s got plans.

Jogging down the steps in her calf-high boots, she searches through the crowds of foot traffic and sees the pixie-cut she’s been waiting to see, against a lamp post. Blue skinny jeans and a t-shirt underneath a leather fitted jacket. A resting bitch face that turns to cordial stoicism, and melts her into smiling. Olivia has a type and she can’t even deny it anymore: women who look like they’d be just as ready to step on you as make you laugh.

“Hey!” she says as she walks up, a perk in her step that makes her ponytail bounce.

Cassandra grins and stands tall, holding her phone. “Hey!”

“You said wear pants.”

“That I did.”

Olivia eyes her, fending off the urge to giggle nervously like a beguiled school girl. “Do I get to find out why? I don’t usually cater to people’s whims, case you couldn’t tell.”

Cassandra’s grin grows. “Really? Last I checked, I am now 5-0 with requests on your time and company.”

OH. Ohoho. OHO. Olivia’s hands go balmy, a visceral response to being hung out to dry with just a simple sentence. She’s right, though. After their meet up at the Church, texting had recommenced at their expedient frequency. That had led to a redemption coffee outing on the following Wednesday, where Olivia sat down in place long enough to actually finish her chai. That would have been bad enough, if not for the wandering into a used bookstore afterward, where Olivia couldn’t resist mock reading from old social science journals to really drive their asinine, outdated theories home. That was the first time she heard Cassandra laugh. Honest to goodness laugh. It made her break character.

But ego does not pay any mind to sentimentality in the moment of injury.

She swats Cassandra on the back of her upper arm before folding hers against her tightened chest. “You got a punch card going or something, asshole?” 

Cassandra chuckles low. A cocky chuckle. The confidence looks good on her, when it overpowers her steady and thoughtful exterior. “Come on, I only got a few minutes loaded on the parking meter.”

She’s unceremonious but charming as they walk down the sidewalk bordering front quad. It had been an odd text to wake up to, a request that she wear close-fitting shirt and pants, and bring something to tie back her hair. It reminds her of when adults would chide her and her friends in high school for letting people tell them how to dress. No one was allowed to do that! Unless, of course, they were your parents, your elders, the federal government…

A few minutes walk to a back parking lot, and they come to the front line of spots. Just down the line, passed the handicap spots, there’s a shiny black and purple bike cocked to the side, and two helmets resting on the seat.

She stops in her tracks. Cassandra walks a few feet ahead, before she turns and faces her.

“No fucking way,” Olivia’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open. “You’re shitting me.”

“Yes, because I definitely am a prankster,” Cassandra shakes her head. “Come on, you said you spend your weekends on bikes. Or was that you, shitting me?”

Olivia is getting sick of this woman being perfect. It’s nauseating, almost -- and by that, she means increasingly irresistible and that is becoming a problem. In all actuality it would make sense; kids who grew up in families like the Pentaghasts rarely had an interest that wasn’t generously indulged just because they could afford to do so. She probably had a inkling to ride a bike when she was nine, and they groomed her all the way up to being a licensed rider who competed in tournaments or something berserk like that. Just casual. 

She slings her backpack straps onto both shoulders. “Well, shit.”

“What?” Cassandra asks as they resume walking.

“Nothing, I am just rarely rendered speechless.”

“Now that, I believe,” she smiles, a skip in her step as she bounces off the sidewalk onto the asphalt, grabbing both helmets and handing one to her. “Be honest, have you ridden on a bike before?”

Oh, sweetheart. Olivia laughs and takes the helmet, pulling her hair ponytail down to rest at the nape of her neck. “No, never. Absolutely not. I am a good girl.”

Cassandra sits up, back straight as she zips up the jacket she’s wearing. Now it makes sense why it reminds her of a moto jacket in a magazine. “I’m serious, Liv. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Ugh, I have, many times in fact.” Olivia sticks her tongue out before slipping her head into the helmet. It’s a bit snug, but that’s not a bad thing when it comes to helmets. “Just sit still and look pretty while I do my backflips on the freeway.”

“And people say I am relentless.” Cassandra smirks before putting her helmet on and standing up, swinging a leg onto the front seat. Olivia is way too besotted by the simple act of her straddling a bike for it to be healthy. A 20-something’s blood pressure is not supposed to spike like that. “Well, let’s go then.”

Olivia’s heart races. It’s a simple request. She’s done it more than a dozen times. Get on the bike, hold the person by the sides of their waist, and enjoy the ride. Holding her breath, she approaches and does as Cassandra did, bringing a leg over -- God, the bike is tall -- and perches herself on the back seat.

Cassandra takes hold of her steering, and Olivia takes hold of her. Leaving room for Jesus, to be sure. Out the corner of her eye she spots a small group of onlooking people outside the doors to the building in front of the lot. They look like a bunch of east coast preps lost on their way to the nearest Hollister, and their faces are anything but pleased. One girl with french braids and a binder to her chest, brow furrowing. A guy, hands on his hips, wearing a knit Ralph Lauren-looking sweater even though it’s a 70 degrees out at least. A couple others, but it’s those two faces that stink the most. 

What’s good, bro? Got milk with fat in your latte this morning, Chadworth? she sneers in her head. Her temper has two gears: territorial pomeranian, and pomeranian gone off the rails. 

Cassandra kicks up the stand and revs the engine. “Ready?” she yells over her shoulder.

Olivia’s hands press harder against her waist, and she refocuses. “Negative, Ghost Rider, the pattern is full.” She then leans against her back, as close as her mouth can get to her ear. “Hell yeah I am.”

They reverse and then blow the popsicle stand. Cassandra rides well, and she doesn’t speed or try things. Corners are careful, speed limits respected. When they merge onto the freeway Olivia leans against her straight rather than do what she likes to do -- tricks like tossing her arms into the air, arching back, feeling the adrenaline race in her veins. Instead, she holds on, and takes in the scene racing on either side of them. No backflips.

Eventually they get off several exits down and pull into uptown where the pho shop is. It’s small, and tucked away a bit, but it’s a favorite among “the students” as the locals would say. They find a table by the window, small and built for two, and go ham on two bowls of soup.

“Oh yeah, toss those babies in,” Olivia teases, sliding her bowl across so Cassandra can drop in the peppers she doesn’t want. “Ah, yes, glorious. Thank you.”

Cassandra grins, throwing in the last piece and then grabbing for more bean sprouts. “Your table manners are compelling.”

“Good, it took me five years of debutante training to get me to stop hanging off the chandeliers.”

“Only five?”

“Five...and a half,” she wags her finger in the air, her other hand stirring her noodles around. Cassandra is spooning some broth to her lips, not a single sound of slurping or crass inhaling. It’s textbook table etiquette.

“So, how was your day?” she asks after she swallows.

“Good. Class was good...a lecture on the Peloponnesian war. I should have known better than take an Antiquated history class without bothering with the prereq.”

“What, is it difficult?”

“Not...exactly,” Liv shrugs, tossing a piece of beef into her mouth. “It’s just involved. Like, everyone there wants to be the next great archeologist or history authority. I just want to know how we got this point in our society, get an A, and move on.”

Cassandra wipes the side of her lip with her napkin, before placing it to the table and picking up another bundle of noodles between her chopsticks. “I can understand that. Some people really get bizarre in those classes. I once got into it with a guy who insisted on his hair-brained reddit factoids being true even though they stipulated that Stalin was like, this nice guy who loved kids and lattes.”

“Agh! What the fuck?”

“I know. I nearly asked him to throw hands on the quad afterward. Tell him where he could put his soviet apologia. I hate it when I’m made to feel like reduced to capitalist swine just for telling Craig whoever-the-hell that all his heroes died despotic cowards, and it’s not an ‘ironic’ fascination if he has a giant U.S.S.R flag hanging in his dorm room.”

Olivia snorts as she’s mid-gulp of broth, her hand going to her mouth and cupping against her lips and wet nose. She turns away briefly to wipe off her mess, while Cassandra looks on with a smile. A habitual concern is smearing her lipstick, but as she’s pressing, she remembers she didn't put on any that morning. In fact, she hardly bothered with anything more than concealer and eyeliner. She could rub her face in a thick towel, and it would be fine.

“I hope that was meant to be a laugh. You okay?” she comments, taking in another mouthful of noodles.

“You know,” Olivia remarks as she presses her napkin to her face, hopefully not smearing her contour or highlight, “you comment a lot on my quirks. You got a problem, Pentaghast?”

“Not at all, Sinclair. Why would I?” she tilts her chin, her hand stilling.

“Uh, I don’t know. You bothered, or whatever.” Maybe you’re trying to tell me to stop doing it by commenting, like my parents do. Darling, you’re mouth breathing. Sweetie, you talk when you can’t improve the silence.

“Nah,” Cassandra chews small, “Just teasing. If anything, your concern should be that I find you too fascinating to be real.”

Butterflies. She’s been causing them more lately ever since they agreed to this ‘friendship.’ Because that was totally what was supposed to happen when you’re good pals.

“Hm,” Olivia nods, preparing another bite in her bowl. “I’ll take that answer.”

“Lofty affirmation.”

“Yep.”

They settle into eating for a minute or two. Her phone had sat untouched on the corner of the table, on silent, too. Texts and calls don’t matter in the moment. It’s her getaway for more reasons than she’d like to admit.

“Speaking of bothered. Cullen’s still trying to pretend he doesn’t care that Ellinor wants to be friends. There’s no living with him,” Cassandra says, breaking the contented silence. “It’s been, what, a week since they got that group project assignment?”

“Ugh, yeah,” Olivia watches her broth as she stirs around the floating veggies. “Ellinor won’t stop not talking about it. But they’re finally meeting up soon, right? They have to. It’s like, the rule of group projects.”

“...Does she like him?”

“Does he like her?”

Their eyes meet, and smiles grow on both their faces. Olivia laughs to off-set her nerves from it. “Shit, obvious answers are obvious.” 

She shakes some more of the hoisin sauce into her bowl, before tossing it up in the air towards Cassandra’s side. Cassandra, in her athletic prowess, catches it without so much as looking up.

“You’re keeping me on my toes. What’s next, another ‘trust’ fall?”

Olivia shakes her head mockingly and upturns her nose. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“You got the wrong girl if you’re looking for lack of protestation,” Cassandra counters, mixing.

“Maybe you’d find better company with those people watching us get on your bike. They looked full of ideas to protest. Women’s reproductive choice, suffrage, poor people having rights…”

“You mean Daniel and everyone?”

Great. Of course, she knows them. “...Uh, sure?”

“Hah,” Cassandra shakes her head. “They’re opinionated, alright. Just not very good, or original, at it. They go to Church. Our families know each other. All fun friends at the ski lodge and mission trips,” she mocks, eyes rolling a bit.

Church, church, church. It all went back to Church. That was perhaps the most religious thought she had ever had on her own volition.

“So, I take it they’re not very cool?”

“That’s one way of putting it. Insufferable is another.”

“Does that mean they don’t like you being around me?”

Cassandra holds her noodles mid-air hanging on the chopsticks as she pauses to give her a look. “Liv, they dislike a lot of things.”

“Yeah, but, they were giving me shitty glares of death in the parking lot. And I’m not a thing.”

“I didn’t say you where. I just meant that--”

“It’d make sense, I mean...promiscuous witch straddling your bike with her blasphemous thighs, you riding off on the highway to hell,” she starts to choke on her laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

Cassandra smiles smartly. There’s a glimmer in her eye that wasn’t there before. “I try not to worry what other people think. It gets ridiculous after a while, if you let it under your skin. My family brings enough attention to my life as it is. I don’t need to treat everything like tabloid fodder in my free time. But if I did, I’d want it to be written using your flare for vivid imagery.”

She’s eloquent, even when she’s hanging out with no audience. A bit awkward on the delivery at times, but sincere. It’s adorable.

“Right,” Olivia crinkles her nose, “heh, you’re right. I shouldn’t have picked. It’s pointless. I am who I am, anyways.”

“Yes, you are.” She looks up and sees Cassandra admiring her with that quiet, confident stare. A straight mouth, but softened eyes. It’s all in the eyes.

They finish more than an hour later, way passed the amount of time it objectively takes to down a small order of pho. They also take their time walking back to her bike. It’s a partly cloudy day, but warm -- worth the dallying. Olivia will probably get sunburnt, but there’s no reason to care. She does that thing where she pretends she’s walking on a tightrope, and even hops on a couple side-by-side benches to do so. Cassandra keeps to herself, but matches her pace at every slow-down and quickening of steps.

Then, she does one of those things that surprises Olivia just as she thinks she has the situation settled: as she approaches the end of the last bench, Cassandra offers her hand to her. She stops and stares at it, probably longer than she should if the goal is to play it all cool and nonchalant. 

Her eyes flicker to Cassandra’s. She’s looking at her with civil kindness, impossible to read. Olivia tucks her chin a bit, grins, and glides her palm ever-so-quickly against hers. She hops down and feels the bracing strength in her handhold -- it was not needed, but it was something else. Something humbling. With her feet back on the ground, she is the first to remove her hand, so that she doesn’t have to survive the sensation of Cassandra being the first to break away. 

Eventually it’s back on the bike and to campus where they belong. On the way, Olivia leans against her back, inch for inch, but it’s no big deal. Jesus still has room, somewhere, right? At one point, though, when they are rounding onto a neighborhood street -- one she recognizes as being a couple blocks from Rylen’s house of horrors -- she lets her hand go out to the side, fingers spindling through the air. Cassandra looks over, but due to the helmet, she can’t tell whether she’s mad or not. She doesn’t say anything, and Cassandra is the kind of person to say something -- so she takes it as approval.

When they pull into the fire lane behind her dorm and stop, Olivia would rather stick a hair pin in her eye and dismount. But, she makes it look easy as best she can, hopping down and sliding the helmet off her head. She hands it back to her while shaking her hair loose. Cassandra remains on her seat, but sits up. It gives Olivia leave to stand close, for the sake of the engine noise.

“Thanks for the ride. It was a perfect first bike trip,” she teases, thumbs hooking onto her backpack straps.

“No problem,” Cassandra projects through the rim of her helmet.

Olivia rolls her lip. “I’ll...uh, I’ll text you.”

“Please do.”

Dammit with that poker face. What gives? What’s in it for her? What’s got her so smug?

“Okay, well…” she rocks her weight between her toes and her heels, “get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night, Olivia.”

This is where she is supposed to walk away. Again. She nods and turns for the door to the ground floor. Although, Cassandra does not turn tail and leave until Olivia is fully inside, safe and sound -- as if that were a concern to have, logically.

Oh, she can do that, but she can’t push be back on the bike seat and...

Once inside, she exhales her pent up breath and shoulders the wall, groaning. Everything is great, but yields no decisive result. Cassandra makes being straight look like a corkscrew roller-coaster ride, and feel like it, too. Olivia is signing up for every go-around she can, only to be dropped off and told to collect her bag and loose jewelry from the cubby hole.

Her thoughts go quiet as she gets up the stairs, and onto her and Ellinor’s floor. And who does she meet coming her way but the grunge queen herself, who’s face flushes in the instant they see each other. Ellinor is dressed for public, and carrying her bag. Her book bag. It’s gotta be no later than 5pm. She tries to pivot and go the other way, but Olivia is hep to her antics.

“No no, no you don’t missy!” she calls after her, walking faster to catch up, “get back here!”

“I don’t...I cant...I can’t hear you!” Ellinor mouths while she stuffs her other headphone back in her ear.

“Ellinor Trevelyan!”

She freezes, shoulders bunch against her ears.

“That’s right. Turn around and meet your maker. Where are you going at this temperate evening hour?”

“Uh…” Ellinor side-steps, “I got...homework…”

“What kind of homework? Would that be...Lit homework?”

“No!”

Olivia stops in front of her, and with a swift fist she punches her best friend’s bookbag. It feels like a sack of cinderblocks. “Right. That’s Lit class heaviness. Try again.”

Ellinor sucks on her cheek, folding her arms that are wrapped in hoodie sleeves. “I’ve got Lit homework. Sue me.”

“Oh, you bet your ass you do. A project’s worth. You going to meet with someone?”

“Maybe. I got friends, you know.”

Olivia narrows her eyes. “Bullshit. Who?”

“No one in the vicinity…”

“Hah! You’re meeting up with him! Fucking finally!”

Ellinor slumps and bends her knees, tossing her head back. “Shit, yes okay, fine. I am. We have a meet-up. I’m doing what I’m supposed to. Got it? Had your fun?”

Olivia dances from foot to foot, smiling and giggling with triumph. “Ohoho, don’t stay out too late, child. Curfew it at 9:30pm! Make good choices! Don’t let him get all in your petticoats!”

Ellinor looks ready to astral project out of this dimension and call it a day. But, as Olivia passes her and backwards steps so that she can continue mocking her with giggles and singing words, she surprisingly stays grounded in this plane of existence.

“Stu-dy bud-dies, stu-dy bud-dies, stu-dy bud-dies!” Olivia chants, scooting her boots back towards her door down the hall.

“Yeah, right! Better than noodle buddies! Get enough slurping?!” Ellinor barks back.

Olivia blushes and bites her lip, before turning her but toward her and perking it up. “Never enough!”

“Ugh, son of a--”

“Buh-bye, friend! Have fun! Kiss kiss fall in love!”

Ellinor makes her escape, drawing the line at old anime haunts of their freshman year depression pit. That leaves Olivia at her door, keys rustling in her backpack side pocket. She gets out her phone and makes quick for her messages, typing in Cassandra’s name.

-- I think Ellinor is coming over to your place for their project. Look alive and be prepared to evacuate the premises if necessary, lol. 

Olivia shoves her key in her lock and feels another buzzing sensation. Thinking -- hoping -- it’s Cassandra, she looks quick.  

To her disappointment, it’s Mom:

-- Do not forget the gala coming up! You HAVE to come home before! Mom-daughter time at the spa, LOL! Love ya! XO

Right. God dammit. She lets her arms fall and rocks her forehead into her door, groaning with the bane of a thousand tempers. Right around midterms, no less. Cassandra was right -- it was fatiguing to care about what other people thought. But it was different to overcome that when your entire life was groomed for social climbing, instead of you being born already at the top like she had. It’s easier not to care when you’re looking down at all your critics.

But, Mommy-Daughter spa time! ‘LOL’ was not the sentiment she would have used to describe it. “Fate worse than death she must relive for all time” -- now that, that was an apt descriptor. She gets in through her door, drops her stuff on her desk, and hops into the shower soon after. Once that’s done and she returns wrapped in a towel, her thoughts have spun once or twice around the planet’s equator. Turning the lamp on as its getting dark outside, she unplugs her phone from the charger by her desk, and pulls up Ellinor’s name in her texts.

-- My Mom isn’t dropping the museum trustee gala nightmare she wants to drag me to. I want to walk the plank. Hope your not-study date is going well! Tell Cullen hey for me, and be niceee!!!! 

She’ll probably invite Ellinor to come along so that her Mom doesn’t get to push her onto the arm of one of her girlfriends’ sons, or even worse, one of Olivia’s beefcake cousins. It’s more than annoying, it’s excruciating, and she hates that it is. 

Collapsing back on her bed, she exhales with the daydream of Cassandra by the lamp post wearing that jacket. She wants it all to herself, safe and sound. Fuck.

[thesilverstaganddoe]

The Beginning: Psychology and the Law (Killing Eve Fic) Chapter 3

AO3 Link Chapter [1] [2]

Chapter 3: Habits

The drinks became a habit, at least once a week, sometimes several times a week. They were always fun, a different bar each week. Oksana always had something to suggest. She’d asked Eve a few times, but Eve had just made her suggestions based on what results she pulled up on her phone, so Oksana had returned to picking. She’d yet to disappoint.

It wasn’t that Eve looked forward to the nights out, per se, but they were always a welcome relief from her busy weeks at school. In spite of her remarkable ability to make Eve flustered at any given moment, Oksana was also charming and a delight to be around. She could easily make Eve laugh even when she was the most stressed and on more than one occasion Eve had come out at her insistence, despite a foul or tired mood, and ended up truly jovial by the end of the evening.

Eve was charmed. But Oksana was a charmer, it was what she did, and Eve had to remind herself of that. It wasn’t anything special.

It was getting dark and Eve was heading out toward the staff parking lot when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped and nearly took a swing at the owner before realizing it was Oksana.

“You scared me nearly half to death, Oksana!”

“You should pay better attention, it’s not like I’m particularly quiet. And why are you so jumpy?”

“Because I have people like you sneaking up behind me.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Right.” Eve said sarcastically.

“Unless you asked me to.”

“Is that supposed to be a dirty joke?”

Oksana grinned. “Yes.”

“Couldn’t resist, could you?”

“You gave me such a good opening.”

“You have a twisted, dirty mind.”

“If you’re already saying with what little you’ve seen of me, then you’re in for a big shock if we keep hanging around each other.” Eve rolled her eyes and Oksana looped her arm through Eve’s to walk beside her. “So, are you headed home? Or do you want to go out? I was going to text you, but then I saw you.”

“I’d like that. I should get something to eat first, though.”

“Let’s do that! I’m starving. Do you have somewhere in mind?”

“Not particularly, I’m guessing you have a suggestion?”

“Definitely!” Oksana’s eyes sparkled and pulled away from Eve to slip between two cards and head toward the other side of the parking lot. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder, “ride with me.”

Eve followed her, but halted as soon as she what Oksana was leaning against.

“You seriously drive a motorcycle? You say the kids here drive you crazy, but I swear you act like a university student sometimes.”

Oksana rolled her eyes. “There’s a huge difference between liking twenty-somethings and liking acting like a twenty-something.”

“I am not getting on the back of that thing.”

“There’s rush hour traffic, it’ll be quicker. Come on, if we get there soon we’ll make happy hour!”

“No way.”

“Eve…” Oksana whined, coming up to her with her best pouty look splattered all over her face. “Pretty please? It’ll be fun. You know I’m fun. I won’t let you get hurt, promise. Look, I even have an extra helmet!” She pulled it out and offered it to Eve with her impossible to refuse smile.

“Fine. Just this once. Be careful.”

“Ha! We’re going to go fast. Do you know the top speed that-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No. I just want to get to dinner in one piece.”

Oksana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Someday. We’ll go out of the city on the open roads and I’ll show you. You know, you should go to Tuscany someday, ride a motorcycle through the hills there. It’s beautiful.”

“Oksana, when would I ever get the chance to do such a thing?”

“I’ve done it. Twice. Actually three times, maybe, I can’t remember. It’s great fun though, highly recommend.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Oksana grinned. “It’s party of why I’m so great. Now get on.”

—————-

“The bread is really good here, have some.” Oksana pushed the basket towards Eve and she grabbed a roll and started tearing small pieces off of it one at a time. “This was a good idea, I was getting tired of eating peanuts and cherries half the nights of the week.”

“This is a really nice place,” Eve said looking around at the decor and well dressed couple leaning over candles to talk to each other. It wasn’t the kind of place Eve had ever really frequented herself and she felt quite underdressed for it, but Oksana wasn’t really even up to the standards either and she seemed perfectly at home.

“It is, they have really good food. I like the pasta. Though I guess we’ve already eaten a lot of bread so maybe not,” Oksana was finishing her third roll, “I feel like steak. Ooh, we could get both and split it, do you want to? I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll eat anything.”

“Uh, sure.”

It was dawning on Eve that the bars they’d been in previously had provided at lot more sound cover compared to the restaurant that was filled with nothing more than violin music and quiet voices. Oksana really had chosen a fairly extravagant place for what Eve had assumed was nothing more than a quick bite to eat. But, then, that was Oksana.

In the loud bars, Eve had been able to pretend she hadn’t heard Oksana when she needed more time to come up with a response, a tactic that she had used on more than one occasion. Without that shelter and Eve found herself stumbling over her words more than ever. Oksana just wouldn’t stop looking at her.

“Eve?”

Eve blinked. She’d been staring at Oksana’s mouth without actually hearing the words coming out of it.

“Yes, sorry, what?”

Oksana laughed. “I asked if you wanted to share a bottle of wine.” Eve looked away from her to discover that a waiter had arrived at their table and was looking at her expectantly.

“That sounds great.”

She really needed to pull herself together.

For the most part, though, Eve kept up with Oksana throughout dinner, listening to her light hearted chatter and amusing anecdotes and doing her best to make her own intelligent additions. They ended up in a long debate about the problems and relative merits of their somewhat conflicting graduate school research projects, during which Oksana jabbed a fork in Eve’s direction, emphasizing some particularly important point, and consequently flung a piece of pasta at a passing waiter. He gave her the most disdainful of looks and she simply shrugged at him before bursting into the kind of laughter that earned her much the same look from all the surrounding tables.

It was late and the restaurant was starting to clear by the time they hit any real lull in conversation; dessert was apparently being the only thing that could give Oksana real pause. Maybe it was the soft lighting and soothing music or maybe it was the wine, not that she’d had nearly enough to make such an excuse, but Eve suddenly felt the need to deal with an issue that had been stewing in the back of her mind since the first day they’d met.

“Okay, I need to ask you something and I know I might not like the answer, but it’s been almost two months and we can’t just keep avoiding the topic.

"Alright," Oksana said slowly, setting down her fork and giving Eve her full attention.

"You clearly used to work for a defense firm, right? And probably defended some not-so-great people, I assume? And I was at MI6 so basically we were kind of on opposite sides back then. Which is why we haven’t really had this conversation. It’s slightly awkward.”

Oksana pressed her lips together and gazed off to the side. It took her awhile to respond. “Yes. I worked for DLA Twelve.”

“Oh.”

Eve knew that law firm. She knew it’s reputation, knew what kind of cases they handled, the kind of people they’d gotten off. They had originally been multiple big-name law firms, each headed up by several big shot lawyers, that ultimately merged together. They were huge, international, and they handled everything from criminal cases to civil suits to corporate litigations. Everyone knew them. When Eve had worked for MI6, she’d occasionally had to give expert testimony in court. It was rarely a big deal, but the one time it had been an ordeal was when she was pinned down on the witness stand by one of their lawyers. They’d lost the case; that tended to happen when they faced the DLA Twelve - people got away with things.

“Do you hate me now?” On the surface, Oksana’s smile was light-hearted and a bit cheeky, but Eve could tell there was genuine concern underlying the question.

“Well, this could certainly would make things tense if we were working our past jobs. But no, of course not. I mean, it’s not like there’s anything really horrible that you were responsible for getting swept under the rug, right?” Eve voiced it rhetorically, but she really did want an answer.

“No. Like you said, obviously there were less than great people who did less than great things, that’s the business, but it wasn’t stuff from nightmares. And even on the worst of them, my work was a very small share of what went down in those cases.”

“They must have thought you were valuable, they clearly paid you well enough.”

“You have to understand, Eve, half the time they were just paying me to show up and look pretty. Be a distraction, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re joking.”

“Mostly. But not entirely. We had plans like that, Oksana will distract juror number three during the testimony by wearing a low cut top. ”

“That cannot have been the majority of your work.”

“Okay, that may have only been once. But still, you get my point. It was mostly stupid. They paid me too much, not that I ever objected.”

“Is that why you left? It was stupid, you got bored?”

“Something like that. I just...needed something to change.”

“I get that. I really get that.”

[dipulb3]

2021 Genesis GV80 2.5T first drive review: Similar swagger, lower price

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2021-genesis-gv80-2-5t-first-drive-review-similar-swagger-lower-price-2/

2021 Genesis GV80 2.5T first drive review: Similar swagger, lower price

When automakers first make their latest and greatest available for journalists to test, they typically roll out loaded examples for reviewers to sample. In other words, top-flight models with the poshest interiors, the flashiest wheels, the highest tech and most importantly, the most powerful drivetrains. It makes sense, insofar as it affords reviewers the chance to experience all of a vehicle’s newness and greatness at once, giving us the chance to figure out what we like, and what we don’t. Side effect? It’s tempting to get distracted by all those bells, whistles and horses. That’s particularly easy to do when there are so many of all three, as is the case with the 2021 Genesis GV80. 

In fact, this upscale SUV has so many new features and details to experience, I thought it best to start out with a loaded GV80 3.5T in all-wheel-drive Prestige trim, a $72,000 as-tested luxury juggernaut. If you haven’t read my first drive review of that model, please consider pausing reading this article and doing that now.

No matter the engine, the GV80 is one sharp SUV.

Chris Paukert/Roadshow

All finished? Good. Now, to Genesis’ eternal credit, the company made numerous configurations of its new GV80 available at its Detroit-area first drive event, so I’m going to stay focused on powertrain and trim differences, since most of my other impressions carry over. So let’s take a closer look at this significantly more affordable version, the GV80 2.5T with rear-wheel drive. While my tester is still spec’d out in highfalutin Prestige guise, this crossover is a lot less expensive, stickering at $58,475 as tested (including $1,025 in freight). As you’ll soon learn, the Himalayan Gray Metallic sweetie seen here is priced to strike fear in the heart of today’s premium SUV market. That’s admittedly still a thick wedge, but a base GV80 starts at $49,925 delivered, which isn’t far above the price of a Hyundai Palisade Calligraphy from Genesis’ parent brand. Make no mistake, no matter how you option it, the GV80 represents an unparalleled amount of modern luxury SUV for the money. 

4-cylinder power

While I think the twin-turbo V6 in the 3.5T model suits the overall ambition of the GV80 best, the smaller, single-turbo, 2.5-liter inline-four featured here has lots to offer — not the least of which is its 300 horsepower and 311 pound-feet of torque (the latter peaking from just 1,300 rpm). Those output figures solidly outpoint not only the smaller 2.0-liter I4s in the Audi Q7 and Mercedes-Benz GLE 350, they’re actually substantially more impressive than the power metrics mustered by the liter-larger, naturally aspirated V6s in the Acura MDX and Lexus RX. 

On the street, this translates to solid — but not overwhelming — amounts of oomph, whether trundling around town from stoplight to stoplight or merging onto the freeway. The eight-speed automatic shifts crisply and obsequiously, and I’d ballpark a 0-to-60-mph time in the 6.5-second range. The 2.5T is also surprisingly quiet, especially for an I4. That makes sense, because with the 3.5T, the entire GV80 drive experience is hushed, be it in terms of engine, road or wind noise (frankly, I can’t recall driving an SUV with a sub-six-figure price tag that’s as quiet as a GV80 V6). And yet, even without that model’s unique active road-noise cancellation tech (think: Bose 700 cans for the entire cabin), this 2.5T RWD isn’t far behind.

Speaking of the four-cylinder, the 2.5T’s soundtrack itself isn’t bothersome, but it is a bit featureless, and its character doesn’t match the GV80’s larger-than-life looks as well as the pricier, thirstier V6. That said, a solid slug of torque is always available for passing and the engine’s fuel-saving stop-start tech is unobtrusive enough that I left it enabled for 95% of my drive (something of a rarity for me). 

It’s worth noting that I only had the chance to drive the 2.5T unladen, without a cabin full of passengers or gear in the cargo area, and my drive day took place on Michigan’s drably flat and rain-slicked roads. I’d be interested to experience a similar model fully loaded, perhaps in the mountains, if only to see how much starch this powertrain really offers. Regardless, Genesis says the 2.5T can tow a solid 6,000 pounds, the same as its 3.5T big brother, so this combo ought to be reasonably stout. Of course, if you want the optional (small) third-row seats, you can’t get it with a four-cylinder engine. In fact, you have to pony up a very specific 3.5T trim, Advance Plus.

The GV80’s 2.5-liter turbo four puts out 300 hp and 311 pound-feet — more power than some rivals’ V6 engines.

Chris Paukert/Roadshow

4-cylinder efficiency

The payoff for going with the smaller I4, in addition to a substantially lower price tag, is markedly better fuel economy. The 2021 Genesis GV80 2.5T RWD nets 21 miles per gallon city, 25 highway and 23 combined according to EPA estimates. If you opt for AWD, the numbers hold up well, with only the combined number dropping by a single digit. Compare that to the AWD-only 3.5T, which gets 18 mpg city, 23 highway and 20 combined. None of these efficiency totals (all achieved on premium fuel) will score you on a slot on the Rainforest Action Network’s holiday-card list, mind, but these are solid figures for this class.

So, the I4 is less expensive and demonstrably more efficient. Good stuff. But if you’re picturing this GV80 as some sort of secret, inexpensive performance model for driving enthusiasts because it’s rear-wheel drive and lighter overall, well, think again. This isn’t a sport sedan on stilts, and it still weighs every bit of 4,700 pounds. That’s not to say this Genesis handles like an overstuffed couch — GV80s can hustle around corners smartly — but there isn’t much in the way of feel or involvement, especially from the steering. On the plus side, even though Genesis’ road-scanning adjustable suspension isn’t available on RWD models, because this 2.5T wears smaller 20-inch wheels wrapped in 265/50-series Michelin Primacy Tour all-season rubber, this vehicle offers better ride quality than the V6 I wrote about previously. (Base, 2.5T Standard trims ride on 19s with even taller sidewalls, so they ought to be more compliant still.) 

While you can’t get all the luxury fixins found in the V6 model, the 2.5T’s cabin remains posh, original and very well equipped.

Chris Paukert/Roadshow

Interior excellence

Even though the 2.5T RWD Prestige lacks many of the super-swish features found only on the 3.5T’s Prestige trim (e.g. quilted Nappa leather, power soft-close doors, 3D-effect digital gauges, and so on), the 2.5T RWD’s interior still feels upscale. This wasn’t a foregone conclusion, as the RWD Prestige even goes without many of the features that come standard in AWD models with the same engine and trim — you can’t get active noise cancellation or a head-up display, for instance. Thankfully, the inclusion of features like a widescreen, 14.5-inch infotainment display, 21-speaker Lexicon audio system, knurled-finish switchgear, panoramic roof and matte-finish wood help elevate the cabin to significant heights. However, it’s the overall aesthetic and the quality of fit and finish that really sell the premium vibe that allow the GV80 to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the likes of the Audi Q7, BMW X5, Lincoln Aviator and Mercedes GLE.

When it comes to safety tech, Genesis has thankfully been a lot more straightforward. Regardless of driven wheels or trim, all GV80s receive adaptive cruise control with Highway Driving Assist II (lane centering and road sign recognition), lane-departure warning and blind-spot collision-avoidance assist, forward-collision warning with auto brake, plus a basic driver monitor and an unusual extra airbag mounted front center airbag. Prestige trim adds 360-degree birds-eye camera coverage for easier maneuverability, reverse auto-brake, blind-spot monitor and ultrasonic rear-seat occupant alert, but that’s about it. All in all, the entire GV80 line is on-point when it comes to safety gear.

While the 3.5T may still be the GV80 to covet, there’s certainly no shame in the 2.5T’s game.

Chris Paukert/Roadshow

Should you buy one?

Is it worth buying a GV80 rather than the more traditional (and predictable) luxury brands out of Europe and Japan? 100%. Dollar for dollar, the GV80 isn’t just a better value when optioned like-for-like, it actually has more street presence than the establishment, plus it has a nicer cabin and a much-longer warranty. In fairness, if history is any guide, the GV80 won’t have comparable resale value entrenched rivals from Europe and Japan, but then again, you won’t be forking over as much money to begin with, and Genesis often has better dependability scores.

Now, should you consider this 2.5T versus a 3.5T? Well, if you can afford to splurge, I would. The extra power — 375 hp and 391 lb-ft — and refinement makes the six-cylinder engine a worthy upgrade. Plus with the way Genesis tiers its trim lines, you tend to get more standard equipment on 3.5T models, too. One more thing: Since RWD doesn’t radically alter (let alone improve) the GV80’s agility or fun quotient, I’d go for an AWD model regardless of engine, especially if you’re located somewhere that sees a good amount of rain or snow. In fairness, this 2.5T RWD is likely to be a pretty rare bird on dealer lots anyhow. A Genesis spokesperson tells me that at least in the early days of GV80 sales, only around 30% of models on lots are likely to come with this smaller engine. Of that amount, only around a third are expected to be fitted with RWD.

All in all, it’s hard to go wrong with the 2021 Genesis GV80. It isn’t just the best value in the midsize luxury SUV segment, it’s one of the better options, period.

[alchemine]

the time travel saga continues

In which there is a failure to resolve anything, but at least Danny finally gets fed a proper meal. 

previously on: part 1 | part 2  | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Before Danny even opened his eyes, he knew that it was morning, and that Jo’s test hadn’t worked. The air around him smelt of wood and paint and carpeting instead of his discarded socks and those disgusting sausages Scott kept buying and cooking, and he could hear the faint hum of an industrial-strength ventilation system instead of the ordinary early-morning traffic in their road. 

The good news was that the library staff hadn’t found him and handed him over to the police. The bad news was that he was still locked in a room deep in the underbelly of the library, that his neck and back hurt from sleeping stretched across two chairs, and that he desperately needed the toilet. On balance, it seemed bad news was winning over good for the second day in a row.

Groaning quietly, he unfolded himself from his torture rack, pressed the power button on his phone to check the time, and found that the library had opened ten minutes ago, which meant he could at least leave the room instead of pissing in a corner like some sort of wild animal. He stretched arms and legs as best he could, gathered up Jo’s books from the night before, and tried to smooth his sticking-up hair before unlocking the door and easing it open far enough to check the corridor. He had a brief vision of himself abruptly coming face to face with a floating, spectral librarian, but all was clear, and he made it up to the main floor without seeing anyone either living or dead.

There were already surprising numbers of people coming in through the doors where he’d entered the night before--mothers arriving with their toddlers for the morning rhyme time session, old men settling in to spend the day perusing the racks of newspapers, and grubby-looking students prepared to stake out the best seats in the study area. Danny merged with them as nonchalantly as he could, glad that the dark trousers, white shirt and tie he’d worn to work two days and twenty-three years before were nondescript enough to blend into almost any decade (although he had a nasty feeling they were beginning to smell less than fresh), and deposited the stack of books on an empty bit of shelf before escaping to the men’s toilets. With his most urgent need out of the way, he examined his dishevelled, red-eyed self in the mirror, then washed his face and hands and rinsed his mouth, which tasted as if something had prised it open and crawled inside to die in the night. Maybe Jo had a toothbrush he could use. And a razor. And a shower.

And a spare roast dinner wouldn’t go amiss, he thought. The hunger that had been an annoyance yesterday was a bottomless roaring pit today, and as he gulped down a double palmful of water from the sink to try to quiet it, he realised he felt dangerously shaky. He had better hurry up and get to Jo’s, or he’d fall over along the way.

The sky outside was still grim with clouds, but it wasn’t actively raining, which he decided to count as another tick in the “good news” column. He stood on the library’s steps for a moment to get his bearings, and noted that while no one passing by was on the phone, either talking or typing away madly with their thumbs, no one looked particularly interested in giving him directions either. They were a grim lot, these citizens of twenty years ago, tramping along in their ugly vintage jumpers and plastic rain bonnets and gigantic square-lensed specs, or sitting on benches and reading newspapers full of events he only remembered from modern history lessons at school. Well, he’d find his way without their help, the miserable beggars.

He’d never missed Google Maps more in his life, but he unfolded the paper map he’d acquired and from that, managed to locate the address Jo had given him, which was back in the direction from which they’d both come yesterday. It had been a five-minute bus ride, but it took nearly half an hour to walk, and he really was ready to fall over by the time he got there. Her house was a large, semi-detached one fronted by carefully tended shrubbery, in a road not unlike the one where she would eventually live with Iain, and he felt weak and bedraggled and unsightly as he pushed the bell and waited.

After a moment, Jo opened the door--not in school uniform today, thank God; being seen with her in it had made him feel pervier than he ever wanted to feel again--and greeted him with a disappointed expression.

“It didn’t work, then.”

“No,” Danny said, and she sighed.

“You’d better come in. Don’t worry, there’s no one else here.”

He followed her through the house to the kitchen, where she sat him at a cluttered breakfast bar covered with the detritus of the Rourkes’ daily family life.

“You’ve got to be starving,” she said, and he nodded, hoping he didn’t look too pathetic. “What do you want to eat?”

“Anything. Everything. If you’ve got a dog I’ll fight it for one of its biscuits.”

Jo snorted with laughter. “I don’t think you’ll have to go that far.” She turned away to open cupboards and peer into the fridge. “Cornflakes? Cold chicken? Leftover cake?”

“Yes please,” Danny said, and she banged a box of cornflakes, a jug of milk and a blue plastic bowl down in front of him.

“Here, start with these and we’ll see how you get on. Don’t make yourself sick, though. I don’t want to clear that up.”

He got through two bowls of cornflakes, three slices of buttered toast, a fist-size chunk of cake and a chicken leg before he admitted defeat and stopped, stuffed nearly to the point of pain, but finally able to think straight again. Jo had made them both a cup of tea while he was head down in the cereal bowl, and now she perched on the stool beside his, her cup wrapped in both her hands, and regarded him with curiosity. She’d put on pale-pink lipstick this morning, he saw: with Future Jo, that would mean she was girding herself up for some sort of battle, but this Jo was probably just taking advantage of a day out from under the nuns’ gimlet eyes.

“Well, Daniel,” she said.

“Well, Joanne.”

Jo scrunched her nose up at the sound of her full name. “All right, all right. Obviously what we hoped would happen didn’t happen, because here you are, but did anything happen at all? Did you have any prophetic dreams or mysterious flashes of insight in your sleep?”

“The only thing I got in my sleep was a sore neck.” Danny tilted his head gingerly from side to side, wincing. “I’ve still got no idea what happened, and I had lots of time to think about it, sitting there on my own in the dark. It really was a completely boring, ordinary Tuesday right up until the moment when I did my Marty McFly impression.”

“Your what?”

“Another film. It’ll be in the cinemas in a few more months. You should see it. Anyway, I honestly can’t remember anything weird happening, just going to work and then coming home in the rain.”

“It was raining here too,” Jo said thoughtfully. “I wonder--no, that couldn’t have anything to do with it. Was the date here the same as the one you left?”

Danny nodded. “Tuesday, the nineteenth of March, both places.”

“And there’s no significance to that date for you?”

“Not that I know of.”

“This is making my head hurt,” Jo said. She finished her tea and set her cup down. “Have you checked your pockets? Maybe someone did a reverse pickpocketing and slipped you some miniature time-travelling device disguised as a coin?”

“I showed you my coins yesterday, remember?”

“Still.”

Danny pushed aside his bowl and plate, empty now except for a few drops of milk and a gnawed chicken bone, and turned his pockets out on the worktop, trousers first and then coat. “Wallet, coins, mobile, map, that slip of paper you gave me--”

“No keys?”

“I put them down after I let myself into the flat,” Danny said, thinking back to his movements on that night. He’d been tired, running on autopilot, not thinking of much beyond whether he was going to have pickle on his sandwich or not.

Jo nodded. “Anything else?”

He dug deeper into his left coat pocket. “Notepad, gum--that’s for you, you’re always asking me for some--oh God, don’t look at that.” He grabbed for the bright foil condom packet he’d accidentally thrown down alongside everything else, but not fast enough to stop Jo shooting out a hand and picking it up.

“With ribs and dots,” she read aloud. “Designed to speed her up and slow him down. Really?”

“It’s not mine.”

“It’s not?” Jo looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Don’t tell me this is the disguised time-travelling device.”

“It’s my brother thinking he’s funny.” He snatched the packet back from her and stuffed it down into his coat pocket again. “He’s always hiding them in my pockets, for good luck, he says.”

“Does it work?”

“Does what work?”

“Hiding them in your pockets,” Jo said. “Not the other it. I’m sure that works.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Danny said, exasperated. He could feel a slow burn starting in his face and knew it was only a matter of time until it became visible.“Look, can we not have this conversation? Let’s just go through the rest of these things and make certain there’s nothing strange about any of them.”

“Sorry,” Jo said, not sounding very sorry at all. She touched the spread-out items delicately, with the tips of her fingers, as if she were a medium trying to contact him through his possessions. “It all looks perfectly normal to me, but it’s not mine. Does anything look wrong to you?”

Danny stared down at the small, sad collection of objects that now represented the whole of his real life, searching for some sort of pattern or anomaly, and then slowly shook his head.

“No.”

[shouucore]

Safer Cycling on the Streets

Cycling is simple, isn't it? Anyone can do it. So why write this article?

Because it is not-so-easy to cycle S A F E L Y. Many a times accidents ( which SHOULD NOT have happened) do occur. Spend a little time to read this article and you will become a safer cyclist.

Like driving, cycling safely requires awareness, concentration, quick reflexes and a good set of safe traveling habits. In all my years of cycling, I have been quite fortunate to be accident-free. I would like to share some of my cycling habits and experience which so that you too can ride safely on our roads.

Disclaimer: Whilst these safe riding skills works for the author, please consider them carefully before use. Due to numerous variables involved on the road, not all situations can be possibly covered. The author will hold no responsibility for any accidents or injuries as a result of applying information contained within this article. You are advised to consider carefully before applying these techniques at your own risk.

WHAT IS SAFE CYCLING?

Safe cycling brings you home safely. It reduces the risk of road traffic accidents to an absolute minimum. A cyclist who rides safely will not force other road users to take late evasive actions which may endanger lives.

This document is divided into 4 sections. Please click on the underlined titles below to skip to the section you are interested in.

SAFETY EQUIPMENT:

Bicycle helmets

The foam inside the helmet absorbs the impact of a fall on your head. It compresses and breaks to prevent your brain juice from spilling all over the road. Always wear one.

Bicycle mirrors.

Some attach to the edge of your handlebar. I find it difficult to focus into the small mirror (which shakes with the vibration from the front wheel) and it takes my attention away from what's happening in front of me.

Rear reflector and rear light.

Other road users seem to pass me with more side clearance when my rear lights are on at night. Perhaps it tells them that I am a valid road user and reminds them to take cyclists seriously.

Front light.

At night, never ride beyond the nearer of your braking distance or your bicycle's lamp range, especially on dark downhill streets. Your lights will also help attract the attention of drivers along merging lanes.

Clothing.

There is a reason why cycling jerseys are always colorful and , at times, "loud". It helps to improve the visibility of the rider on the road. At least wear light coloured clothing so that you can been easily seen. I always get worried for those Indian cyclists along Zhu Jiao Centre who wear dark clothes and ride without any lights/reflectors. They are probably just more visible than the shadows around.

PRE-RIDE CHECK

Ensure your equipment is in safe working condition before each ride. This is my quick "1-2-3" routine that I practice before each and every time I return to my bike. It should take less than 5 seconds and allows me to have much more peace of mind during my ride.

Quick release parts - Check these easily removable fixtures if you have them. Do not fall victim to children with "itchy fingers", foiled thieves or saboteurs. It is too late when your front wheel disengages itself from you fork when you are flying over a hump.

Brakes - Always test the strength of the brakes (esp front) before you ride off. It allows you to have an idea how far your minimum effective braking distance (see the section on emergency stopping on how to establish it) will be.

Bike bounce - Hold your bike by the handle and seat, lift it by about an inch and let it drop on its wheels. Apart from some chainslap, you shouldnt really hear any other sounds. Otherwise, check for loose parts.

GOOD CYCLING HABITS

By reading the techniques below, there seems to be alot to do while cycling. Dont worry about it. These skills will slowly be internalised and before you know it, you're already doing it.

ATTITUDE'They are always "right"'

Cyclist are probably the most vulnerable group of road users. We stand to lose the most in an accident. Whether it was due to our fault or due to other's mistakes does not matter. Hence, it is not always wise to enforce your "right of way".

'They are all out to get you'

Sounds schizophrenic and probably not fun to cycle with. But it is useful for beginner cyclists until they have enough road cycling experience under their belt.

'Thank goodness i'm okay'.

Ask any regular road cyclist and i'm sure that they'll have some "close shave" incidents to share. Such situations will happpen and if it is due to a driver's poor road behaviour, it is quite understandable for you to get angry or to vent your indignance on the driver. Dont do that. The driver will have realised his mistake if it was a "close shave". Showing your anger probably will make the driver loathe cyclists more. More importantly , it'll unsettle your emotions and for the next few miles, and the incident will probably dwell in your mind. Just be thankful that you were skillful/smart enough to avoid an accident, learn from it and let it go. Then, focus on the immediate road needs. As a cyclist, you dont have the luxury to be distracted on the road.

GENERAL TIPS

Time allowance.

If you have a dateline to meet, estimate how much time you need your destination on your regular cruising speed and cut yourself extra 20% slack time. Rushing increases the chance of mistakes, and mistakes can have disastrous consequences on the cyclist. Giving yourself enough slack will also allow you to enjoy the ride more.

Bike control.

On Singapore roads, the double yellow lines are very useful as a guide. I try to track between the yellow lines unless the drainage holes extend into that region. Practice until you can hold your "line" +/- 1/2 foot and these lines will remind you not stray too far out into the road.

Ride with company.

Not only will you have someone to chat with, you can practice drafting and you can look after each other. If you must ride alone, always keep a note on you with the details of a contact person to reach in the event of an emergency.

Use hand signals.

Do not sway direction suddenly without notice. Remember to signal in advance, check if you have enough space before changing direction. By doing so, other road users are to be able to anticipate your path and pass you safely.

Look to the rear.

This is essential before changing direction, passing junctions/merging lanes/bus bays. Just a glance is needed to establish the traffic situation behind you. Are you able to look over your shoulder and yet keep your bicycle moving straight ahead? If not, here's how you do it - relax your muscles from your shoulder up, touch the tip of your chin to your clavicle bone and glance back. No other parts of your body should move since that might affect your stability. When you are familiar with the motion, practice this on your bike in a safe open area before progressing onto the road.

Establish eye contact

Have you ever felt someone looking at you and turn to actually find someone doing so? I cant explain that sixth feeling but it is a very useful tool for cyclists. Do not just consider cars as moving metal boxes. Look into the driver's eyes to establish his intention. The vehicle's sideview or rearview mirrors can help do this. Conversely, with practice, you can project your intention to drivers through your eyes. But remember to check that the road conditions are clear before doing so.

Look

at the side

of obstacles.

I've heard some fallen cyclists say, "I SAW the obstacle coming, but couldnt react on time." *SPLAT*. Your bike will go where you intend it to. If you look AT the obstacle, you WILL go over it. When you are going fast on your bike, dont concentrate ON an obstacle when you spot it. Instead, look at the SIDE the obstacle and your subconscious mind will help you steer around it. Avoiding obstacles is that simple.

Emergency stopping

How far do you need to stop your bike in an emergency? If you know this, you will be able to estimate how fast you can/should travel. The minimum effective braking distance is a function of 1. your reaction time 2. effectiveness of your bikes braking parts 3. your braking technique 4. road conditions and gradient. When you grab a fistful of your brakes, the pads tend to lock both wheels. Sometimes, the resultant force throws you over the handlebars and cause you to end in an ugly "face-plant". With the correct braking technique, you will not "endo" unnecessarily. As you brake, lift you rear from the seat, shift your weight diagonally downwards to the rear while straigtening your arms. In your final crouch position, your chest should be inches above the seat and your rear just inches above the rear wheel. By shifting your weight in this manner, you are able to counteract the resultant "up and forwards" force that trys to yank you over the handlebars. You will probably wear some rubber off your wheels from the skidding but you will stop very quickly without "endo"ing. Practice this well, it'll help to save your life.

Reading the road

You need to understand what is happening all around you when you cycle. If you are already a driver, you will know how to anticipate other cars paths. Otherwise, some experience on the road will help. Also, learn how to distinguish road hazards eg. large bumps, cracks on the road and potholes. What is on the surface of the road? Oil? Sand? Moss? What is the effect of it on your braking distance? Do not just use your eyes. With experience, you can HEAR heavy vehicles approaching, FEEL the draft of a vehicle beginning to overtake you and even SENSE a driver behind looking at you.

Road shoulders

On a road without kerbs, you may sometimes encounter a 1 to 2 inches vertical drop between tarmac road and the soil. If your front wheel goes off the road and down onto the soil, do not attempt to get back onto the tarmac immediately. Unless you are supremely skillful, the forces acting on the bike will cause a front wheel skid-fall. I have witness at least 2 such incidents where cyclists in front of me have lost some skin to the tarmac this way. Where possible, let the rear wheel drop onto the soil before attempting to get back onto the tarmac. I would recommend a path of travel back up of no more than 45 degrees to perpedicular of the tarmac. Approach at any greater angle and the reaction force from the front wheel hitting the vertical edge may yank your front wheel front beneath you.

ON THE ROADCross traffic junctions - safety check

We all know that we have to look before we proceed. But which parts of the cross traffic junction do we have to be careful of?

Blind spot

Sometimes a large vehicle will pass you while you are within the junction box. This is a dangerous time as vehicles waiting on path 3(see picture above) may not see you as you are hidden behind the large vehicle. If the road is clear behind you, they may decide to begin their turn only to see you too late. Slow down until you can ensure that path 3 is clear before proceeding.

Positioning at red lights

Position your bike several feet ahead of the leading car (be careful not to go into the junction box!) so that the driver behind you can see you and give you ample space when moving off. By positioning you bike there, you will not have to jostle for space once the green light appears.

Buses and long vehicles

When being overtaken by long vehicles, slow down so that they can pass you as quickly as possible. In so doing, you reduce your risk of being 'squeezed out' onto the kerb.

Parked vehicles

Be careful of these immobile dangers. Before passing one, do note if it is empty. If it is not, try to give at least 4 feet side clearance. There are inconsiderate drivers who do not check their rear before opening their doors abruptly. Also, look at the driver to see if he is about to turn out into the road. Occassionally, pedestrains may suddenly appear from in between parked cars so do control you speed before these points.

Wet weather

Best not to cycle in it. If you must cycle, beware of the smooth freshly painted road signs on the tarmac and metal grills. You will not be able to distinguish the depth of puddles so try to avoid them. If you are cycling on smooth cement after the rain, note areas with moss growing which are very slippery. Another dangerous period is when it just begins to drizzle. People tend to rush to escape the rain. Be especially alert - dont be overly preoccupied with rushing for shelter. Other drivers are rushing too!

Night riding

In dark places, always ride within the nearer of your bike light's range, your minimum effective braking distance, or as dictated by road conditions. In essence, do not go too fast at dark places.

Some of the notes above may not apply to the country that you are residing in. It depends quite alot on your local traffic condition. Just adapt as necessary.

Here is an interesting anecdote: When I was cycling in Guangzhou (China), there were so many bicycles weaving in between the chaotic traffic than I was throughly confused. I was petrified at traffic junctions. There did not seem to be any system at all. It was only until a local cyclist enlightened me: "Just worry about your front. The people behind will take care of themselves." Subsequently, it so much easier to bike around there. Its just a different cycling paradigm there.