#Aluminum Signs Near Me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venerablemonk27 · 1 year

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I've done a lot of birding the past couple months and not a lot of posting, so I'm going back to our Tucson, AZ trip from April. I hadn't been to the Western US since picking up birding or wildlife photography, so I knew I was going to pick up a ton of lifers. One of our target species for the trip was also my fifth Owl species ever: the Burrowing Owl.

[ID: A Burrowing Owl stands on a mound of dirt. They are facing left and looking toward the camera. The sun is low in the sky off to the right, which illuminates the right side of the Owl's face and their back, while casting the rest in shadow. They have striking yellow eyes and a furrowed brow that gives them the appearance of a permanent scowl. Their oval-shaped head transitions naturally into a slender cylindrical body covered in mottled tan and white feathers. About half the bird's height is body and folded wings, with two naked grey legs planted on the ground. End ID]

This was the morning we had picked for me to do some solo birding, so I drove out to a spot west of Tucson where eBird indicated that Burrowing Owls were likely to appear. It was just after sunrise when I found the road cutting between farm fields where the Owls were reported. I drove slowly down the side of the road in my rented Dodge Charger, stopping occasionally to inspect a suspicious clump of dirt with my binoculars. I had not seen any sign of the Owls when a Land Rover pulled up behind me. A group of three folks in their 60s with binoculars piled out of car, clearly more birders here to do exactly what I was doing.

[ID: A Burrowing Owl stands on a mound of dirt, facing the camera. The sun is still low in the sky, but now the bird's face and chest are more brightly lit, showing the transition in feather colors from tan to mottled tan to white as they progress downward from collar to belly.]

They introduced themselves as coming from the UK, and had been visiting Arizona for several weeks in search of all the unique birds the state could offer. The driver was particularly puzzled about the location of the Owls, saying he was "absolutely foxed" that this place with no real habitat could host Burrowing Owls. I showed him the recent sightings on eBird and explained that it was possible the birds just hadn't emerged from their burrows yet.

After another 15 minutes of searching the fields, I offered to lead them to an alternate site nearby. We got in our cars and slowly drove back the way we had come. Just as we were approaching the end of the road, I spotted a small tan creature standing right on the edge of the irrigation ditch along the near side of the field. A Burrowing Owl! I swung the Charger around and flagged down my companions, who had also spotted the Owl.

[ID: A pair of Burrowing Owls stand on a mound of dirt. The one in the foreground looks decidedly sleepier and plumper than the one in the background (seen in previous images). Both Owls are similar in coloration, but the one in the foreground has an aluminum leg band for identifying them. End ID]

We got out to take a look and grab some photos from long distance, then slowly crept forward with my Charger as a rolling blind. There turned out to be four Owls spread out along the irrigation ditch, likely close to their burrows which were out of sight. They were surprisingly unbothered by the cars rolling up to them, probably because they see trucks and farm vehicles driving past all day every day. Once we were directly across the irrigation ditch from the closest pair, I climbed into the passenger seat to take some better photosm. Mostly the Owls just stood on their tiny hill and looked around. Though I did witness one of the pair above fly down to pounce on a grasshopper, then return to feed it to their partner.

[ID: A pair of Burrowing Owls stand on a mound of dirt. This photo was taken midday, with the sun directly overhead. At least one of these individuals is different from those above, as they have two leg bands instead of one. It's also apparent in the photo that the Owls are standing at the edge of a farm field from the row of green plants out of focus in the background. End ID]

I had such a great view of the Burrowing Owls that I had to bring my family back to see them on our last day in Tucson. Because we were heading out of town in the middle of the day, I was confident we'd find them right away and avoid testing the patience of my kid. It turns out I didn't have to worry. Not only were the Owls right where I left them, but the kid had fallen asleep on the drive, so we had to wake him up to see them! And seeing as I already had the camera within easy reach, I had to take a few more photos.

[ID: A Burrowing Owl stands on a mound of dirt. This one is looking alert in the midday sun, standing and scanning the area around the edge of the farm field. End ID]

On a trip full of exciting views, long hikes, and thousands of photos, it was nice to finish the trip quietly sitting in the car just a few yards away from such a compelling bird. And it always feels good to track down a lifer and share that experience with others!

#bird #birding #birds #bird photography #birdblr #birdlife #photography #birdwatching #close encounter #original photography #original photography on tumblr #owl #burrowing owl #arizona #there's simply nothing around here that looks like habitat

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cleaverqueer · 10 months

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DIY How-To; Aluminum Can Spikes

Preface; This will work with any kind of can as long as its metal. (soda, monster, ect) You can make them in colors depending on which side you trace your stencil on but im gonna teach you how to make them silver

And i cannot stress this enough,

BE CAREFUL WITH THE RAW CUT EDGES OF THE CANS, THEY ARE SHARP ENOUGH TO CUT BADLY

Material needed;

Empty clean aluminum can(s)

Sharp scissors (maybe a stitch ripper for attaching them but scissors work too)

A sharpie or permanent marker

Superglue if you want them perfect

An abundance of patience and caution

1 Gather your aluminum

First step is to turn those cans into flat sheets of metal. Start by making a small cut near the rounded edge of the top or bottom, about this distance

Then cut around the top to connect back where you started and take the ends off.

Next you cut a line straight down the side to interrupt the loop of aluminum.

What I do next is kinda just flatten it the best I can? Press it against a flat surface, make tiny bends against the curve, just to make it easier to work with, always being careful of the sharp edges

2 Make a stencil

So the general shape youre gonna wanna make it is like this

The big point will be the tip of your spike, and the little nubby ones will hold it on

imo it helps to have an extra can to experiment with what works best for what youre going for, but once you figure it out, have one flat cut out piece to trace for the rest, to make sure they all come out the same!

3 Trace a bunch and cut them out!

Sounds easier than it is. if you work with it, you can get more spikes sometimes by drawing them close together, but then theyre harder to cut out. Again, be careful of edges. If you want silver, trace on the printed on sign so you dont get sharpie on your spike (or dont, mistakes are punk)

4 Roll them up

This takes a little practice, but what you wanna do is roll up the wider end of the triangle, one edge over the other, into a pyramid, forming a spike with the point of the big triangle at the end. (this ones harder to draw)

Sometimes theyll stay curled tight on their own, sometimes they need a little help (superglue) i havent figured out how to make em curl perfect every time yet. You can also fill them with hot glue to make them sturdier ( BEING CAREFUL OF THE SPIKES WHEN THEY HEAT UP FROM THE GLUE) But the good news is your spikes are done!

4 Affixing them to your shit

Once you figure out where you want them, hold the bottom triangles on the first spike up to the spot it goes like you mean to put it in, mark where they touch the fabric, and then take your scissors or stitch ripper and cut four little tears that DO NOT connect at those points.

It should look like this, with the center dot representing where the spike point is centered!

You should also give each spike enough room that the tears dont run into each other. I usually do them one at a time but i dont think it matters.

After the tears are cut, you carefully insert the bottom triangles into the rips

flip it over, and fold the triangles in over themselves like a staple

Repeat until youve added on all your spikes and your piece looks sick as fuck

5 Bonus; patching over the studs

So when you do this, like a staple, theres the little pointy bits sticking in, and if its a wearble item, it'll prick your skin. If youre autistic like me thats a big drawback, but you can remedy this by sewing a patch of a thicker material (i use denim) over the place where these spikes are holding on.

#diy punk #diy how to #diy can spikes #diy #punk

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irulaan · 1 year

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THE ONE | SIRIUS BLACK

— I persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different. Would everything be different today?

nav | masterlist

✧ PAIRING. sirius black x fem!reader

✧ WORD COUNT. 3.6k

✧ WARNINGS. angst. cheating. inspired by my own last breakup. mm slightly proofread and all over the place, expect mistakes, sorry! chronology? who’s that? very ooc sirius

The Christmas dinner that year had a gloomy aura. And everyone pointed the finger at your miserable frown and lost eyes, and of course the big sign above your head with bold crimson letters, ‘heartbroken’. Most of them cataloged you as selfish and whiny; why bring your long face to such sweet festivitie? As if you wanted to have those judging eyes all over you, as if you wanted to be there.

You’ll have a few spoonfuls of whatever that doesn’t trigger your desires for throwing up. Maybe you’ll still do, since your emotions are tied up in knots in your stomach.

Poor of them if they dare to ask you how it all started…

Steadying your breathing, you tried to locate your friend without success. She isn't there, because if she’s not early, then she’s not attending. Resigned and a bit anxious, you decided to take a seat. Alone.

The professor just walked in. “Page number 58” Was all she said.

A ragged breathing and faint footsteps caught your attention and your eyes followed the sound to found one of the most eccentric sixth graders. The blond one, well blond, you weren’t sure—his hair resembled the warmest sand. And he was always hurt, a few scars marring his soft skin. You didn’t like to stare. But you had seen him before, of course, he was in that group—the marauders, as they’d named themselves.

He sat beside you. Trying to tame his breathing, he wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. His darkish hazel eyes found yours, by his expression you knew he didn’t recognize you. It’s okay, so you smiled, and he did his best to try to imitate you. Maybe he wasn’t very used to smiling at strangers? But there was something else. His constant movements and his wandering eyes were screaming something that wasn’t your business to translate.

But there you were, concerned, once more, by a stranger who didn’t even knew who you were.

“Are you alright?” You whispered to him, and he turned his face towards yours, what it felt like a whiplash. He had piercing eyes and an expression shouting “lunatic”. But he ends up nodding.

It’s weak. And you’ll curse yourself until your death for scavenging into your pocket for a piece of chocolate. “On bad days I like to have one of these. Not much but they’re delicious” You offered to him, and he was clearly confused. How could you mind if you knew he was a troubled soul? “It’s yours” It’s the confirmation he needs to accept it, after all, he just cataloged you as nice, bit weird tho.

This time his faint grin matched his eyes. It isn’t uncomfortable to watch. “Thanks”

He looks hesitant to eat it, but ends up devouring the small theat. It was his favorite flavor. He isn’t searching for new friends but in that second, even if it sounds pathetic, he thinks you’ll be a good friend.

The boy clears his throat, startling you, so you shoot him a look. He’s fine, and he mutters, “Oh, uhm,” He’s looking at your possessions scattered around your open book, searching for a name. And you don’t have a problem understanding what he meant.

With a smile, you say your name.Then you pointed at the forgotten aluminum wrapper tossed on the table, near his own open book. “It’s good, right?”

He finds himself surprised. He felt caught and he doesn’t even know why. “Oh, yeah, it’s perfect, it's not about this… I was wondering, ubm” He’s not usually this awkward, he’d built a confident façade over the years. This was just the full moon’s residue. “Do you have… Can you lend me your last week’s homework? … Please?”

You nodded, almost too excited. Not a lot of people asked for your homework. It’s dumb to feel proud. It’s stupid to feel great because you’re being needed by a stranger that probably is about to forget your name.

“Oh, yeah, of course, you’re lucky she didn’t give us much…”

It's okay to regret that pivotal moment when you saw someone crumbling before your eyes, despite your good intentions. You couldn’t despise Remus, he just opened a door but you shouldn’t have entered into his world. Introducing you to the raven-haired boy was his doing but it was your fault to fall for his empty words and ghostly promises and with it, you destroyed everything.

His laugh makes your heart flutter, but you won’t admit it, not now. “Do you have something to do this weekend?” He inquiries, looking down at you with his bright grey eyes and a playful grin.

You held his stare, as you enjoyed searching for undiscovered eye’s details or marks across his face.

“Oh, no, not really…” There’s a beat of silence. Sirius is about to open his mouth, but you formulate a quick question to rescue you from the second hand embarrassment. “What about you? And the boys?”

He frowns, it’s subtle, but still noticeable. “I don’t know about the boys… not really” There's another awkward pause, which seems to drag on and yet is over too quickly. This is far easier for him, you should’ve known. “I was wondering that, because I think it would be great if we go out… to Hogsmeade, together?”

Oh, there are birds chirping in your heart so loud you could hear them. “Yeah, absolutely” You tried to not smile too big, too enthusiastically. It’s pointless, you don’t really want to hide what’s happening inside you, but you’re afraid too.

Now you know you shouldn’t have to accept it, you shouldn’t have jumped into his sticky, harmful webs.

That day you gave him your best smile, your best content eyes. Your softest tone. “We’re going to have a really great time!”

In the present day, and far away from that memory, you understood why your friends hated him so much, even if at the start he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. They knew. Maybe you knew too, but choose blindness.

You thought you'd never understand how things changed so fast, the thing is they didn’t. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable how everything was much more vivid and tender than everything before he asked you to be his girlfriend under the beating sun of august. Everything after felt like a weird, gloomy dream.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think you’ll care that much” He had the cheek to shrug.

Your face softened, no longer holding a frown. Angry melted into disappointment. “Of course I care…” Your voice is delicate and he felt like the worst human on earth.

“Don’t make that face,”

Swallowing a knot in your throat, you gather the strength to speak your mind. Fighting how afraid you’re to mess up the relationship. “Siri, it’s just—You know I, we see each other almost everyday and I don’t—I can’t understand why.” You paused to take a breath, to stabilize yourself, to not go to dark places of your mind. It’s inevitable. “It makes me think you don’t wanna go out with me…”

He desperately shakes his head, like he thinks he can change your mind. “Of course I do! You make me laugh, you’re intelligent plus you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” Outside, you rolled your eyes. Inside, even knowing it was the most common and ordinary line ever, you feel your heart warming. But your face still had that pout. Those glossy eyes. That dark grey cloud above you, ready to wet your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just have a lot going on right now, You know, with the boys, and other stuff”

And you act like you forgive him. Because you’re good, because you love him, because you’re worried you’re doing everything wrong. “It’s okay,” I’m getting used to it already, you don’t say. There’s thoughts sharp as daggers threatening to cut your poor heart. You had to get away. “I think I’m going I—“

“—How about we go out next week? I don’t think I have something to do” Your heart beat again with anticipation. And you’ll hate him for every word he has ever said to you.

“Sure, but promise me you’ll remember…”

“Of course I’m going to remember. I’ll make it up to you... you’ll see” He promises, once again. And you have no option to believe him. Because he says he loves you. Because maybe you’re being unfair; he has a lot going on in his mind, and you had to be fine being the last of his priorities. “I love you, and I’m really sorry”

He loves you, and you love him. “Love you too,” You suppose love it’s enough.

At some point everything went downhill. He can’t even remember why he was so vexed by you. You couldn’t go to this place with him because you had plans with your friends? Fine, until he started to feel insecure, until the mind that their parents created could see the sun.

You were tired of canceling any plan just for him to forget almost every single time. So you don’t actually realize when you stopped doing it. It seemed natural, like you left behind the sweet feeling of being excited to find out where you were going, what you’ll be doing… all of that replaced by an icy and somewhat uncomfortable feeling of waiting for something that won’t be coming to you. A kind of longing you despised, but couldn’t shake off your mind.

And the first time you realize, was all Sirius fault.

“Don’t look at me like that, Siri, I’m trying to understand you,”

It hurts you seeing him so distressed about something you did, or say. His breath quivers and you could see his fingers are shaking from the anger he felt. And in your mind it was your fault.

“What's so hard to understand?” He whispers, then, he looks at you. Meeting your confused expression hiding your desires to cry underneath. “Fuck, are you stupid?”

You gasp. There must be something else stressing him to this point. It couldn’t be just you, could it be? “Siri…” It’s soft and inviting but he can’t return from his state. “I’ll cancel, okay? And we’re going wherever you want, uhm?”

He shakes his head. His raven waves are disheveled by the many times he had passed his fingers through it. He wanted to come back, but there’s something stopping him. “No, I can’t keep telling you everything you need to do—let me finish!” You opened your mouth again, to say something. To try to get the pieces together, to fix it. But he wasn’t that kind of person. He needed space to think—you had guessed some time ago, because he doesn’t acknowledge it. “Go have your fun, I’ll have my own”

He disappeared, out of your reach. And forever.

He felt guilty, and he wondered if it would ever stop. He was out of his mind, thinking you’ve done the worst to him. Even at some point, his wasted mind told him you were both done. He had seen you angry—or maybe afraid? He doesn’t even remember, but he hadn’t seen that expression on your sweet face before. He swore he would recall, but he never did.

Deep down he knew he had screwed up a long time ago, and a long time ago he stopped caring. After all you’ll feed your heart full with his excuses, empty promises and words he can’t believe he said so lightly.

He took you for granted.

Now he hates you. For not being there, for not standing your ground and trying to change things… and trying to make him a space where he doesn’t deserve to be.

Your heart was falling off your sleeve when you saw him at the table. He was alone. While the others are still sleeping upstairs. The italian summer breeze won’t be enough to soothe your tormented mind, it won’t heal your wounded heart. You didn’t even want to remember why you’re doing this — weren’t you enough?

It was hard to believe you were still there. After everything you knew, you’d still given him a chance. Every step towards his form was touring your crushed heart. “Can we talk?”

He smiles, leaving behind everything he was supposed to do. You don’t miss how his eyes try to avoid yours. “Oh, darling, I’m going somewhere, maybe later?”

At his futile attempt to leave, you became desperate. “No, I can’t wait. I need to talk to you right now.” He caught how your hand is trembling, while trying to reach for him. But it’s late, and the guilt has started to eat his rotting mind. He can’t say it to you. And maybe you wanted to talk about something else—how could you know? “I won’t insist again, please”

He’s being reckless and carelessness, but he doesn’t have the courage to ignore your plea. So he stays glued to the chair. “Fine but it has to be quick”

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” Your voice is breaking under the pressure of what you know. And it’s impossible for you to look into his eyes and confront him. But he shakes his head. And you see everything falling down. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. “I just have one thing to say, but I was just thinking…”

He takes all of his strength to smile. And it’s a pathetic excuse. “Nope, not really. I love you, that’s all”

You frown. Feeling your tears raining down, wetting your cheeks. “But it means nothing now,” He screws his eyes close. Drowning in guilt. In despair because he doesn’t know if you’re going to forgive him. “I know what you did, Sirius”

An horrified expression hardens his features. And he stands up, to embrace you. “I—I can explain it, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

In your misery, you accept it. Because it’s his arms. Because he smells familiar, like safety. You had to indulge in it, before losing everything. And it’s not too late when you realize he’s none of that. And had to rip yourself away from him. Your big heartbroken eyes stared straight into his soul. “You weren’t even going to tell me…” Your lower lip twitching, under your faint voice.

His heart shrinks, and he doesn’t know what to do. “I was waiting—“

“—You’re always waiting, it seems” You cut him off, suddenly annoyed by his pathetic cries and words. It almost seems like he doesn’t care at all. Then, why’re you there? Your voice can’t help but keep breaking. “I don’t care about your explanation… your acts have been screaming you wanted this to end. But I assume you’ve been waiting,”

His glossy eyes found yours again to deny your sayings. “That’s not true, please, how could I ever want to break up with you?”

There’s a soft humorless laugh slipping through your mouth. “But you did. Or were you thinking fool me would forgive you for this?” And there’s a bittersweet after taste in your mouth. And he’s shocked, because you never had tried to hurt him with words. In fact, he only was hurt by the collateral damage of things he did or said. “I don’t deserve this, Sirius”.

He falls to his knees, knowing you won’t take him back. “I’m deeply sorry, I swear I can make it up for you,” But you both knew he can’t, even if he was given the chance, he’ll just keep hurting you.

His head hangs low, and there’s some satisfaction in the back of your mind. Knowing he was hurting—or at least he’s good at pretending—even if you’re going through the same.

Suppressing a sob, your voice is a foggy punishment, “We’re done” It’s all you say, leaving him there. And everything after is a blur. No one asked, no one tried to stop you. You didn’t travel alone back home. No, one of the girls decided you couldn’t be left alone. You weren’t expecting anything, they were Sirius’ friends after all.

And Christmas passed by, and other festivities, birthdays, and parties. And you were a ghost. Only your closest friends saw you, as you kept yourself away from Sirius’ circle, not even wanting to hear his name in conversations. But time keeps passing by. Time wasn’t waiting for any of you.

You thought you’d gathered some strength by the time Remus’ birthday came around. It wasn’t foolish to think you could bear seeing Sirius, probably with a pretty another one wrapped around his finger—holding hands and dancing heart to heart to the torturous beat of your favorite song, by his favorite muggle band.

The bricks are cold and rough against your bare, tender back. You light a cigarette, trying to calm your nerves of not seeing him accompanied.

His smell, how his feet struck lightly the pavement gave it away in an instant. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this was—he’s supposed to be a stranger, someone you’ll be meeting again under different eyes.

He stopped and stayed glued to that spot. Near the wall. Only sighs came out of his mouth for what you felt was an eternity. You know he’s dying to speak, but he’s no fool, he knows he has only one opportunity, before you come back inside, running away from him.

He’s helpless if he thinks he still has time. “I’m sorry,” His voice wavered. He never learned how to approach hurt animals, especially if he was the perpetuator of their bubbling anxiety and misery.

You look at him, and you can only be sorry for your buried relationship, for what his hunger for self sabotage and poor emotion control has done. You don’t care if you’re unfair, he deserves all the credit for burning everything to ashes.

A humorless grin adorned your face, “It’s okay, Sirius, you don’t have to do this”

But it’s not okay. It never was.

He closes his eyes, “I regret every single day what I did at that party,”

And you sigh, “I know, I regret that too”. But it wasn’t all, you wish ti add.

And Sirius has to stare at you with his silver eyes, there’s no grin on his lips. He had to know you’re being honest. That you’re not a stranger.

He takes a deep breath, encouraging himself to ask for forgiveness, to explain everything he couldn’t back then. “I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have let my thoughts taint what we had” Sirius takes a pause. You had a worried expression on your face — you don’t want to go through this, to awake your resentment for him. “I want you to know I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I want to tell you that I care, I tried to send you letters and all”

You nodded, you knew, even if he didn’t say it. Entering into Sirius’ mind wasn’t easy. He had to let you in order to get to know the real one behind every mischievous grin, teasing eyes and flirty words. It was just a slip. That, you understood.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t read them. I despised you, and then you stopped sending them”.

Now it’s his turn to understand your doings. “Yeah, I didn’t want to push yourself more” There’s a silence loud enough to push Sirius to an edge and he wasn’t prepared to jump, he doesn’t feel he has the right. But he opens his mouth, “Do you think we…?” And his eyes are shining silver, under the dim yellow lights.

“Siri…”, You whispered, feeling almost sorry for him. He knew it was bad news. “I know you regret it because you broke us, and I hated it, because it doesn’t let me come back to you” His breath wavers and his heart shatters to sharp pieces. “We should stay as friends, as I still care about you”.

He closes his eyes, as a flow of undesired anger sends shivers down his spine. “I can’t be your friend, I’m in love with you!” He lifts his arms, trying to reach for you. He can’t. He knows you’re already so far away. Have been for a while. “I can’t bear having you so near yet so far away. Like life is mocking me!”

Waiting for him to finish, you watched how his hand carded through his thick, raven curls.

“Sirius, I thought so too. I thought I would be forever and always in love with you—I was head over heels, but not anymore.” You paused, “What I'm trying to say, it’s that everything will pass. Time would work things up, and then we’d just remember the good times, and we won't turn these gatherings into our personal hell”.

He shocks his head in disbelief. As if he has a right to deny your feelings—to deny you’ve moved on. “You don’t love me anymore?” In his eyes there’s a plea, and you don’t have what he wants. Lips disappearing into a thin line, you lightly shook your head. “When did you realize?”

“Sirius, I don’t think—“

“—Please,”

He just wants to bury the idea you’ll ever be together again. “When I saw you earlier… and I didn't feel my heart would explode. Didn’t hear the birds chirping…” You pause to smile, and it’s warm, nostalgic. “When I saw you earlier and realized you couldn’t hurt me anymore”.

Your voice fainting at the end of the phrase was everything he swore he wouldn’t do to you. “Shit, I really screwed everything”

When his red rimmed eyes connected with your own, a pang of pain spread through your stomach. You longed to reach for him, embrace his body, shield his mind from anything that could harm him. But he was the one responsible. So you stop yourself.

“Hey, maybe I was distracting you from meeting the love of your life,” He smiles. And you finally feel relieved.

#—୨୧ ˖ ˚ siri #sirius black x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader angst #remus lupin #sirius black

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jessaerys · 8 months

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(kind of a long-ish excerpt -- i've been twisting myself into pretzels about posting fic for the first time in years and driving myself crazy about it, so i figured it'd do me good to do a teeny tiny soft launch to demystify the whole thing. as a treat thoughts appreciated :') title may change, we'll see.) texas sharpshooter fallacy flirt mello/near | T (excerpt) | 700ish words | canon compliant.

near knocks.

his idea of inconspicuous is a sharp black coat and matching slacks and aviators now high up and glossy on his head. he knocks, and stands there in the fluorescent headache hallway where he can hear mello’s neighbors two doors over fucking to industrial EDM, their bed and their heads shrieking. as if the shock of white hair and vermeer eyes and his pretty babydoll mouth wouldn’t turn heads from harlem to chinatown. he has to laugh.

the 6th floor hallway is carpeted in cigarette butts and shards of glass and piss and misery, rock-bottom regret, apathy of the take-a-walk-out-of-the-roof variety. the wallpaper is an eyesore from the 70s and the ceilings are crazy cracked. taking the lift is a game of russian roulette. more than one person has died in this floor alone. he knows because it was his finger on the trigger, and fuck, he hasn't bothered to scrub out the stains. the grifters, the killers, the whores: everyone here —everyone— has been forsaken by god.

and near is alone.

for a brief, ridiculous moment mello is fourteen again, filled with a gleeful kind of malice, hoping the crackheads across the hall walk out and see near in all of his freakish man-in-black, little gray alien glory. catnip for psychosis, and right on the money to boot. if mello squints just so, it looks as if near is trapped inside the fishbowl marble universe of his peephole.

“in military strategy,” near says, his voice a tuning silver fork that makes the hair on the back of mello’s head stand on end. it is deeper. more elegant. mello had noticed, earlier, when they’d been strangers in the same room with nothing in common but the race for kira’s head and five years worth of resentment. “to refuse diplomatic entrance to one’s territory would be considered a declaration of war.”

“we already accepted jesus into our hearts.”

inside his grimy spaceship, the corner of near’s mouth quirks for a flash of a kodak moment and then it is gone. glitch in the matrix. mello’s wolfteeth grin knocks painfully into the aluminum.

“and didn’t the lord say offer hospitality to one another without grumbling?”

1 peter 4:9. the verse just before reads: above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

"nothing a couple dozen hail marys won't fix."

above them something shatters against the floor. a woman screams. a weight falls heavy on the floor and then there is silence. the ceiling snows dirty dust all over near’s shoulders like so much winter wonderland. the lights flicker and flicker.

neither of them say anything. mello watches. he can’t see you, he tells himself, feeling like the world's best and brightest buffoon. he's not fucking godtouched.

but near raises a hand to his rosy cherubim face, makes a circle with his thumb and index finger to squint through with one big ophanim eye.

watches the watcher.

“i will wait for sixty seconds.”

mello finds his gun. sticks it in the back of his pants. runs his hands through his hair. pulls his gun out, checks the mag. pops it in place. hesitates. checks it again. he was right the first time. it is empty. thirty eight, thirty seven.

L used to say, it’s a boundary, mello. explicit verbal communication of where the limits are. respecting it preserves the peace. you can choose to ignore it, but you should first know why. and you should be ready for the inevitable outcome.

but what this really is is this: near coming to him alone under cover of night, so naïve he might as well be wearing a neon sign that says mug me or kidnap me or worse! i'm a stupid little boy!; as far he can be from the safety of his prince’s tower all to give little old mello the pleasure a fucking ultimatum.

his blood simmers. his ears ring. his sympathetic nervous system betrays him only ever around near, and near's little sycophant butlers could be just out of sight. he could be here with a swat team and a warrant for his arrest. he could be here to let mello know he has once again taken from him the only thing that's ever made any damn sense in his life.

he tries to breathe through it. tries to weight his options. he tries to be more like L.

he fails.

four, three, two—

near turns to leave.

mello opens the door.

#death note #meronia #mihael keehl #nate river #allegedly writing

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atrueneutral · 1 month

Text

May - June - July: Part II (Fallout TV Show - Lucy x The Ghoul) [Part I] [Link to AO3]

By the time the Ghoul returned, Lucy was sitting innocently on the dryer with the can of Cram popped open (and her vault suit zipped to the top stop). Her feet lightly swung in the air while she poked a fork at the processed meat; it was a little grayer than what she was used to eating back in the vault, and the few bites she managed weren’t settling well in her stomach.

She should have gone with the okay-looking yucca fruit.

“Find anything?” she asked, purposefully avoiding the real question of ‘find anyone’?

The Ghoul merely grunted in response as he threw his gear down near the makeshift bedroll he guessed was for him. Scrutinizing her associate, Lucy could not spot any signs of fresh blood on the exterior of his outfit, and he was seemingly in perfect health (aside from the obvious). He also had not arrived with his arms full of anything useful, thus she surmised that nothing eventful had transpired during his quest.

On the flip side, her quest of moseying around the store bore fruit - namely the pre-war keepsake that was currently in her pack (from which stemmed the crazy idea in her head). Between finding the calendar to now, she’d had a bit of time to really think about the pros and the cons of seducing her dangerous associate, but the pros of having sex with the Ghoul (if she was successful) outweighed the cons of being put through the endless torment of humiliation.

(When it came to the dramatic worry of looking like the cutout, Lucy liked to think the Ghoul liked her company well enough to not actually take her head off…)

Excitement thrummed beneath her breast and raced in her veins, but so too did nerves - especially with him here and-

“You ain’t lookin’ so hot, Vaultie,” the Ghoul said, eyeballing her from under his hat. His gaze then fell to the can of Cram she continued to absently jab and not eat. She heard him snort and watched as he collapsed into a nearby aluminum folding chair that she’d set up to make their camp more homey. Surprisingly, the seat itself did not collapse - even with its slight lean. Dogmeat was quick to trot over to dutifully sit beside his master, and the Ghoul’s gloved hand came to pat the canine’s head.

“Oh… yeah,” Lucy replied, sheepish. “I can’t say my stomach’s gotten used to the radiation that saturates every bite of food out here. I’m hoping we come across a settlement soon that has some better crops we can barter for…” She stabbed her fork into what was left of the meat (practically all of it) and held it up in offering with a lopsided smile. “Want the rest of it?”

“I’ll pass.”

“Understandable - it’s not very good, which I’m sure you already know…”

“Mm,” said the ghoul, kicking his feet out and leaning back as far as he comfortably could. He tucked his chin and adjusted his hat to cover his eyes before folding his hands across his chest. “Take first watch while I get some shut eye, will ya?”

“Not a problem,” she answered.

Metal gently clinked metal when she set the food can upon the dryer, and Lucy chewed the inside of her lip in debate; it was a problem - she needed to get the ball rolling. Her opportunity was going to slip through her fingers!

Moments passed, and she pushed herself from the appliance. “Actually, uh, there’s something I wanted to show you. But you have to promise to give me a minute or two to get everything set up, alright?”

The Ghoul grunted, not bothering to lift his head.

“And no peeking!” Lucy added, making a point to point at him accusingly as she gingerly stepped over to her pack. She crouched down just when a sarcastic response of “okey dokey” reached her ears. She rolled her eyes and slipped a hand inside her bag to grab and pull out the calendar. Swallowing her nerves to bolster herself, Lucy headed back over to the dryer. She pushed aside the can of Cram, making room for the calendar, and, with her back to the Ghoul (who did well in not-peeking) Lucy carefully (and as silently as she could) removed her Pip-Boy and leather armor.

Her stripped gear formed a pile at the base of the headless wooden woman.

“Almost ready!” she threw over her shoulder as she slowly unzipped the front of her vault suit down to her navel. She next fussed with her hair; fingers did their best in untangling the mass that hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo in weeks, and when she determined the results to be satisfactory enough, Lucy tucked a portion of her dark tresses behind an ear. The same fingers came to pinch the apples of her cheeks, and her teeth nibbled at her lower lip.

Truly ‘almost ready’, the calendar joined the Cram towards the back of the dryer so Lucy herself could take up her previous seat. Envisioning the month of May, she positioned her body into a pose that matched the woman in her mind. Innocence was what she hoped to embody as she demurely crossed her legs, arched her back, and softly rested a hand against her cheek.

Her expression turned coy.

“You can look now,” she said, using a voice that earned some manner of reaction out of her cousin and Monty both.

The Ghoul did not rush to peek; with a sigh, he sluggishly brought a hand towards his face to tilt the brim of his hat upwards with a finger.

His head canted and eyes narrowed in assessment of the situation. Shadowed irises followed every inch of her body - notably settling on the exposed portion granted to him by the unzipped suit. Where she normally wore a what-used-to-be-white undershirt, glimpses of her bra and naked skin had taken its place.

And, somehow, Lucy saw it in his eyes - a flash of interest.

It was enough to send a welcomed heat to her lower abdomen.

“And what is it that you wanted to show me?” he drawled as he leaned forward, shooting another lance of arousal through her. “I’m not seein’ anything new.”

By not reacting, Lucy did not take the bait. Instead, she would up the ante in setting out her own fishing line.

“If you want to see something new, you’re going to have to go back to not-peeking,” she said sweetly. “Okey dokey?”

The Ghoul smirked, and returned to slouching in his chair. He shifted his hat to again cover his eyes. “Go on, sweetheart. Show me somethin’ new.”

He was daring her - spurring her with his words.

Lucy’s smile, the pearly-white kind that could have an embellished sparkle were she a wooden cutout, lost its innocence as she undid the laces of her footwear and yanked each boot off, dumping them atop her already shed armor. Needing to remove her vault suit, Lucy hopped off of the dryer, peeled her arms from the sleeves and hastily hooked her thumbs into the fabric to push the slightly-elastic outfit past her hips. She pulled her feet from the legs to leave a puddle of blue on the floor.

Habit compelled her to neatly fold the suit into a rectangle and place it as the crowned star to the pile.

She wasn’t completely naked - not yet anyway. Her dirtied and blood-stained bra remained, as well as her high waisted panties that longed for a (working) washing machine.

Feeling suddenly shy, Lucy sought to empower herself by taking another look at the month of June. She quickly flipped to the correct page, and her shoulders sagged less the more she studied the figure that coquettishly stood with a glass of lemonade held in the air.

The sound of a soft, cadenced tapping from behind caused Lucy to turn.

It was the Ghoul, signifying his impatience by drumming two gloved fingers on top of the chair’s arm.

Another deliberate action meant to poke her.

Refocusing on the task at hand and needing a prop, Lucy grabbed the can of Cram before turning around. Not wanting her front to face him entirely, Lucy angled herself and stood tall with confidence. The Cram was raised into the air to be displayed on the flat plane of her hand as she simultaneously bent a leg and placed her other hand at her waist. She puckered her lips and cheekily stared his way whilst adding the finishing touch of an eye closed in a forever-wink.

“Ready!”

The action of lifting his hat was done at a snail’s pace - a contradiction to his previous impatient drumming. Lucy couldn’t tell if the dramatic build-up was more for her benefit or his; her arousal was keen to see his response, and she wondered if the Ghoul was preparing himself for disappointment had she chosen to re-zip her suit and chicken out.

Hat removed, his head tipped forward, and yellowed teeth shone with a smirk at the sight he beheld. Same as before, his eyes traveled up and down her body - absorbing the pose and her scandalous lack of clothes. His hat hovered, having yet to be resituated on his bald head, allowing Lucy to once again see the interest brewing behind his eyes. There was an appetite there, and it wasn’t for the Cram she was holding.

“Little Miss Lucy MacLean… What would your dear ol’ daddy say if he saw you standin’ here in nothin’ but your unmentionables?” The Ghoul said lowly, causing a ripple of pleasure to spread across her body. He leaned forward with his hat in place. “And in front of a no-good ghoul like myself…”

“Surely you’re a ghoul good at something…” Lucy replied, holding her wink and feeling a burst of spunk.

His head tilted with curiosity and he looked dangerous under the brim.

“What is it in particular that you’re hoping I’m good at?”

Her loins, soaked and burning with desire, screamed ‘sex’.

Her spunk, which had arrived when needed, was now wavering when being confronted with his heated gaze.

“Losin’ your gusto, Vaultie?”

Disliking this reversion of using the derogatory nickname, Lucy bit down on her gusto - lest it become lost to her.

“I still have something new to show you,” she said.

The Ghoul chuckled, “If you say so.”

“If you want to see, you have to close your eyes again - and no peeking.”

He closed his eyes after a moment of staring her down. He didn’t bother to reposition himself or his hat, and the faint smirk that remained on his lips goaded her into losing her wink and pose, goaded her into losing the Cram she held, and goaded her into losing her bra and damp-with-slick panties (which were tossed and discarded to the side). Warm air kissed her breasts and hardened nipples and she was more than aware of the throbbing ache that sat between her legs.

Flicking her eyes to him every few seconds to ensure he was abiding to her request, Lucy maneuvered to the side of the dryer and flipped to the next page of the calendar - July. She’s perpetually seated on a towel under a red and white striped beach umbrella, body mostly in profile with her legs bent on either side of her, back arched and buttocks jutting out as she shields her breasts from view with her hands and arms, the ties of her bikini top having been undone. The woman gives the viewer a flirtatious smile.

Perhaps she herself had been the one to undo the ties.

Nodding resolutely at the image, Lucy tip toed over to the Ghoul’s bedroll. At her close and passing proximity, leather creaked and she noticed his gloved fingers tensing. She pondered if he could better smell her arousal with his cavity of a nose as she snagged a torn comforter from his ‘bedroll’ and retraced her steps back to the dryer to drape the comforter across its centuries-old enamel surface.

Her fantasies of how things would go from here did not involve her skin rubbing uncomfortably against rusted metal.

Fixing her mistake of covering the calendar, she imagined Flirtatious July wishing her luck as Lucy climbed on top of the dryer and became the embodiment of the woman who sat on the page hidden at her side.

“You can look,” Lucy said.

And the Ghoul did - his breath hitching and mouth parting.

The smirk was erased from his face, and a dark expression of hunger appeared.

“What is it that you want, sweetheart?” he asked after an agonizing wait. “I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me.”

“I, uh…” she started, her July persona faltering.

It was now or never!

“I want to...” Oh, just say it, Lucy! “Have sex.”

The Ghoul tasted her confession. “Show me the ‘somethin’ new’ I was promised.”

Lucy didn’t hesitate; she delivered his request by splitting her fingers and teasing a glimpse of a nipple only to then slide her hands away and drop her arms from concealing her chest.

“Turn and face me,” he drawled. “I’d like to better appraise what’s being advertised.”

Lucy awkwardly swiveled and revised her position so that she faced him. She crossed her ankles to stay somewhat on theme with the calendar, but she left her breasts exposed as she leaned back on her arms. The radiant, pin-up smile of hers was genuine as she observed him unblinkingly and intensely peer at her from under his hat.

He wanted her, too.

Aluminum scraped against the floor as he suddenly stood, and Lucy’s heart began to pound as spurs jangled with each slow, sauntering step the Ghoul took. Gloved fingers worked at the buckles of the belt that held his holster.

He was heading straight for her.

“Gotta admit I like the idea of my irradiated cock getting a taste of Hank MacLean’s daughter.”

His candidness didn’t bother or offend her; perhaps he didn’t want her as much as he wanted to enact any degree of vengeance against Vault-Tec.

But that suited Hank MacLean’s daughter just fine; either way, she would be getting something out of their copulation.

The Ghoul stopped shy of her - within distance that she could touch him with a bare foot should she extend a leg. His belt and the gun it carried fell to the floor with a thud, drawing Lucy’s attention downwards to the bulge in his pants - the shape of his penis clearly defined and straining fabric.

“Oh, it still works, sweetheart.”

“Show me.” She glanced up at him with her doe eyes. “Cowboy.”

That cocky smirk of his made its return as the Ghoul began to undo the belt of his pants.

“Wait,” Lucy said, halting him. “Give me your hand.”

He deliberated with himself but eventually took another step closer and offered his hand. She gently grabbed his wrist and used the tips of her fingers to carefully tug on the tips of supple leather from thumb to pinky. Loosened enough, Lucy removed the glove and tossed somewhere near her unmentionables. The Ghoul flinched when her thumb caressed along the burnt remains of his skin. He motioned to flee her touch, but Lucy held firm to his wrist. He watched her with dark eyes as she guided their hands to her mouth, and her lips encased his trigger finger - a finger that used to be hers.

She swirled her tongue around the scarred digit and sucked with her eyes on him.

“You’d better hope I don’t go feral,” the Ghoul warned.

Lucy withdrew the glistening finger from her mouth, and she looked at him with mild concern.

“You took your anti-feral serum didn’t you?”

His gloveless fingers jerked forward and gripped her by the jaw.

The urge to jump his bones was almost unbearable.

“That’s not the ferality you should be worried about.”

The Ghoul invaded her space, and in the blink of an eye, his head slanted and his lips were on hers. A current of electricity sparked at the sensation, and their mouths were quick to fall open to greedily deepen the kiss. The tongue that licked hers tasted of chems, or what she assumed to be chems. It was chalky and bitter, but nothing she couldn’t get used to. The bare hand holding her jaw slid into her hair and cradled the back of her neck as Lucy enthusiastically went to work undoing the remaining belt buckle - that which kept her from what she wanted.

She was a woman starved, and she let him know as much with a whimper when soft leather touched the skin of her hip and trailed along her thigh. Ankles became uncrossed the moment the belt came undone. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his pants and eagerly tugged open the waistband. Leather dug into her skin as she reached in and found his erection, and the Ghoul broke their kiss to let out a shaky breath.

She freed him, cock and balls, from the confines of his pants with a simpering smile. “Please don’t ask me to ‘hold my horses’. It’d be a bit too cliche.”

He huffed a laugh and moved back in for another searing kiss. The Ghoul bucked into her hand, and Lucy’s sex longed to be filled (with his penis that most-definitely functioned and was more-than-satisfactory in the length and girth department). She languidly stroked his length with firm pressure that worked like a charm whenever she gave handjobs, and a moan escaped her when the Ghoul bit and ran his tongue along her lower lip. Leather returned to her hip and his bare hand roamed from her neck to her chest to claim a breast. Thumb and forefinger rolled a nipple and tugged and pinched, eliciting further noises from Lucy’s throat.

Aching need spread her legs for her.

“Fuck me, please,” she gasped against his mouth, twisting the lapel of his duster with her free hand.

His touch left her breast to dig into the skin at her hip - matching the grip of his opposing hand. With a rough jerk, he yanked her forward to where she was barely sitting on the edge of the dryer. Lucy’s legs opened fully for him, and she eagerly lined the tip of him to her entrance.

Blown wide pupils stared at her. Hoping to see the good man within their depths, Lucy released his coat and cautiously reached up and removed his hat.

“Fuck me as though there were no tomorrow,” she whispered, searching and finding the barest fragment of whoever it was he used to be.

His mouth crashed into hers without warning, and the Ghoul eased the textured tip of himself into her slick sex. He groaned as he inched himself deeper with every slow and subsequent push. Lucy breathlessly cried out - pleasure was instantaneous and she braced herself with a hand behind her as he thrusted to bury himself fully inside. His hips continued to move - fucking into her with a steady, practiced pace. Their kiss verged on feral and the hat fell from her fingers so that she could cling to the collar of his duster.

His mouth began to move along her jaw, and her moans filled the department alongside the rhythmic, hollow bang that resounded from the dryer she was being fucked on. Her ankles linked, but this time with her legs encircling his torso.

He was better than her cousin and better than Monty.

“What does Hank MacLean’s daughter sound like when she comes undone?” he grunted into her ear in-between satisfying her aching cunt with each drive of his hips. He then chuckled darkly. “Well, what have we here? July, huh? I have to say… you’re much prettier than Miss July - Lucy.”

The effect of hearing her name saw her eyes momentarily flutter closed. Needing to come undone, Lucy gracefully laid down upon the dryer top, her dark hair fanning out. She cursorily worried about the condition of the calendar that was beneath her back, but the worries dissolved the second her fingers slipped between her folds. A single touch across her sensitive bud of nerves caused her to keen and arch her back.

“Tell me your name-” Lucy bit her lip, feeling delirious by the continual buildup of pleasure. “You’re more than the Ghoul, and I’d like to give credit where credit is due… oh lord!”

“I definitely ain’t the Lord,” the Ghoul replied, his hands moving to squeeze her thighs as he picked up his pace.

“Please!” She pleaded, the swirling pads of her fingers doing their due diligence in bringing her so close to the edge. Her vision was becoming spotty - her body growing taut, toes curling…

It was on the cusp of oblivion that he supplied her with something else she wanted.

“Cooper.”

“Cooper… I’m… I’m going to come!”

She came, and it was an orgasm worthy of the end of the world - the kind that she’d never experienced by herself, or with her cousin or with Monty. It was the kind of orgasm that had stars bursting behind her eyes and her muscles twitching and spasming on their own accord. Nothing but ecstasy coursed through her veins, and it lasted for a good-while of bliss-filled seconds.

“What a sight you are,” Cooper drawled, his gaze heady. Caring enough to not overstimulate her, he slowed his horses and gave her a moment's reprieve to recover.

Lucy brought a hand to her head. Dizziness had yet to wane, and her muscles tingled with numbness.

“I wish my dad could see us like this…” she muttered with a wry half-laugh.

Cooper nearly pulled out of her - only to bring himself flush against her with a thrust of his hips.

“Then let’s hope he finds himself in another cage,” came the reply as he returned to the steady pace from earlier. “And I’ll let him know how much I enjoy the feel of his daughter’s soaking wet cunt.”

She smiled, despite his lewdness.

“I enjoy the feel of your cock inside me, Cooper.”

He groaned.

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart…”

“You feel so good… Your cock is the best I’ve felt - the best I’ve had...”

He leaned over her, and his ungloved hand gripped the junction between her neck and shoulder.

“I can’t wait to watch you come all over me,” she added huskily, remembering the road she was used to one-man-in-particular traveling on their honeymoon.

“Why would I do that when there’s a nice, warm hole waitin’ to be filled?”

Lucy shivered at the arousing thought; to think that Cooper would ejaculate inside her. The risk of pregnancy was likely zero - or so she assumed was the case when copulating with a ghoul whose semen was likely sterile.

She mentally crossed her fingers.

“Fill me, Cooper…”

His eyes traced along her naked form that was coated in a thin layer of sweat, and she considered the possibility that he was maybe comparing her to the wife he had once upon a time.

As if confirming her suspicions, his eyes seemingly glazed over.

He was losing himself to memory…

In one fluid motion, Lucy sat up, grabbed the collar of his duster and pulled Cooper in for a tender kiss that a loving wife would give a loving husband.

In returning to the present, he moaned and held her close as they kissed. His release was looming judging by the way his fingers twitched and movements stuttered, and when he came-

“Fuck, Lucy…”

He spilled inside her with her name on his lips when she half expected the name of the wife he had loved. Cooper’s forehead came to rest against hers, his breath stilted as the effects of his orgasm played out.

Lucy gave him a small, close lipped smile when he pulled away a minute later and removed himself from her sex.

“You’re not going to try and kill me now are you?” she asked, making light of her wedding night.

Cooper smirked. He was once again the intimidating gun-slinging ghoul of the Wasteland. “His loss, my gain.”

Butterflies spread their wings and fluttered within the cage of her stomach.

He cleaned himself off with the at-hand comforter before tucking himself back into his pants. Lucy didn’t scramble for modesty; she felt oddly comfortable sitting naked on a dryer in a blown-apart department store in the presence of her associate who just came inside her, and the last thing she wanted was to sugarcoat the fact that she simply used him to satisfy her needs.

Which she did, but…

Remembering the calendar, and hoping she didn’t ruin it, Lucy blindly felt for it and gathered it in her hands. She frowned; the page of July was somewhat damp and warped.

“Where’d you find that ol’ relic anyway?” Cooper asked in the middle of affixing the belt of his holster.

“In the employee locker room,” she answered, beginning to kick her feet (more than aware of the mess between her thighs). “Which pose was your favorite?”

“July.”

He crouched to pick up his hat while she earnestly flipped through and took a look at the future months.

Her head tilted in consideration of pin-ups she studied.

“I think I’d make a good August and September…”

With the hat nestled on his head and his back to her, he threw a glance over his shoulder. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

She grinned at him.

“How does tomorrow sound, Cooper?”

#my writing #lucy x cooper howard #lucy x the ghoul #lucy x the ghoul fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout #fallout show #vaultghoul

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meowzfordayz · 1 year

Note

Compleeeetely almost missed this event!! I'll get my angst refill please and thank you. Gimme prompt n.11 with my man, you already know who! You can pick if sfw or nsfw >:) thanks T 💜💜💜

MILESTONE 5.0

V! 🤍 Thank you for choosing T's to refuel — we appreciate your customer loyalty! ⛽️😉😂

Is it weird that I’m drunk and on my sofa? Is it weird that I’m naked on my sofa? All alone, damn, I wish I didn’t know ya. — Kill My Time

CW: alcohol, explicit language

Sanemi believes it’s a blessing in disguise that you blocked him shortly after breaking his heart. If you hadn’t, then you’d be receiving every single one of his calls—he’s nearing ten—while he lounges naked on his couch, beer cans stacked precariously on the floor beside him. Maybe he’s trying to convince himself that They’re just busy, or maybe he’s in denial about missing the sound of your voice—your voicemail message isn’t enough anymore—or maybe he’s finally feeling sorry, but Damn it, pick up your fucking phone. And then he remembers Oh. Yeah. They blocked you… dumbass promptly downing the remainder of his eighth beer.

From the moment he saw you, he’d known that someone would leave empty chested, the other walking away with a still dripping heart staining their sleeve, because he’d stumbled over himself to say Hi, I’m Sanemi.

“Hi Sanemi, nice to meet you,” you stick out your hand, slightly warm and very soft, “Do you come here often?”

“No,” he eyes your hand suspiciously, grimacing when he realizes how sweaty his own palm is, “First time.”

In hindsight, that clammy first touch should’ve been a warning sign.

“First time in a bookstore,” you deadpan, lips pursing, “Do you prefer the library?”

Gulping, he squeezes your fingers, hoping you’re fixated on his pretty purple eyes or his wintery white hair or anything other than his pulse trembling through his fingertips.

You smirk, squeezing back, “First time shaking someone’s hand too?”

“I don’t want to let go,” he admits, reeling inwardly The fuck is this? A fucking meet-cute?!

“So don’t.”

Your flirtatious quip haunts him, especially as he opens his ninth beer. Pressing its cool metal base to his bare stomach, he tilts his head backward, stupored sigh swallowed by the living room. If only they were here to sigh with me. That’s what he misses most. Not your beautiful smile, the silence of your focus, or the tang of your wit, but the familiarity of how easily and perfectly you annoyed him. If he sighed, then you’d sigh louder, and if he sighed even louder, then soon you’d be locked in a sighing competition, one sigh away from falling into laughter — from falling back in love.

“So what are we?” he asks carefully, watching your brow for signs of unease.

It furrows faintly, his gut coiling as he realizes: I can’t tell if they’re happy or mad.

“We’re together,” you answer simply, expression relaxing as you peck his cheek, “What did you think we were?”

I don’t know he almost says, waiting for a gush of elation, peace, specialness to register, “Dating?”

“Do you want to define our relationship?” you tease fondly, his face turning pink at your directness, “Because we can do that.”

“I’m yours,” he declares, quiet and decisive.

“Mine?” you wink, stealing a sweet, lingering kiss, murmuring lowly, “I like the sound of that.”

In hindsight, he should’ve listened better, swept up in giving himself to you — for nothing in return.

“And I like you,” he whispers.

“Mm, I like you too.”

You hadn’t lied to him. Not exactly. You’d obscured the ultimate truth for something more convenient. For something shiny and tender, masking a loneliness that he’d eventually learn he could never fill.

“I should go to sleep,” he mutters abruptly, chugging his beer with stubborn reluctance, burping wetly afterwards Tengen would be proud of me proceeding to knock over his aluminum tower Eh, I guess not.

Skin prickling, he crosses and uncrosses his ankles, sunlight shifting past noon, long shadows receding from his collarbones, brightness mixing achingly with the alcohol in his vision. Scowling at the blanket strewn across an armchair, too far from his reach, he settles for resting a forearm over his eyes And you should be here with me.

#milestone event #5.0 #sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #drabble #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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open-hearth-rpg · 7 months

Text

Open Hearth Video Roundup - October 20, 2023

Welcome to the weekly Open Hearth Gaming video roundup!

These recorded sessions represent only a portion of the games we play every week, and anyone is welcome to join the fun! If you'd like to play in games like these, join our Playabl community and click on the "Calendar" tab to sign up for upcoming games. To browse our entire library of session videos, please visit our YouTube Playlists page.

Open Hearth Gaming Calendar

Delta Green: Impossible Landscapes (Session 10 of 12) Shane runs for Blake Ryan, Brandon Brylawski, Mark (he/they), and Puckett The agents, badly hurt and fleeing the recent ambush, hope to find comfort and safety at the Dorchester House. But the hospital has secrets and dangers of its own.

The Mecha Hack: Ares Station Q (Session 1) Anya Reyes runs for Bryan, Steven S., and Travis Allison Today in Roleo Time, another game in English, we play The Mecha Hack! a game about pilots trapped in the middle of a war in an unknown planetary system. The Pilots have been stationed for a few months at Ares Outpost Q, the farthest outpost on the planet protecting a series of Transparent Aluminum mines, material used by the Collective to create much of the galactic infrastructure. But they are not alone, Kaiju lurk everywhere.

The Mecha Hack: Ares Station Q (Session 2) Anya Reyes runs for Bryan, Steven S., and Travis Allison The Pilots are sent to deal with a Kaiju nest nearby to Station Q. During the attack several of the eggs hatch and start to fight back, costing blood, oil and steel to the pilots. Meanwhile a mysterious sound announces something is about about to show up over the heads of the Pilots.

Star Trek: Fate of the Quadrant (Session 5) Alun R. runs for Lowell Francis, Paul Rivers, and Will H Personal Log - Stardate 48301.6 - Lieutenant Keenec Reporting: We've been at Gamma 7 for nearly a week for re-supply prior to embarking on our patrol of the Delera Sector. I've spent the time recalibrating the micro-settlement circuits in the food replicators, which seem fine to me. I've also had a chance to work with the team studying a recently recovered Dilithium-Herbert-Matrix that resembles the Horta contacted by the USS Enterprise and could be a new sentient species. Unfortunately, I got a little over-excited and the team asked me to leave. There's a 'difficult' local commander, a group of Bajoran religious dissidents, and a memorial service for the loss of the USS Intrepid over a century before. Then...territorial Tzenkethi; a deeply disturbing subspace signal; and eight (currently quiescent) threats...

Free from the Shadow: Samurai Fantasy (Session 2) Lowell Francis runs for Cale P, Elle, Mike Minutillo, and Sherri We see the clans enact some of their first moves, working to establish influence and gather resources to cover their shortfalls. Then the four protagonists join together, for many different reasons, to find out information about the vanishings plaguing the borderlands and locate a missing shugenja for the Azalea Crow clan.

Girl By Moonlight: Divine Engines (Session 2) Lowell Francis runs for Ethan Harvey, Patrick Knowles, Sherri, and Tyler Lominack The alarm sounds as a new Leviathan approaches the Last Bastion. Our heroes scramble, the first test for this new configuration. Will the new pilot survive? Will Tav reveal that he is not person they knew? How will Manon handle battling a divinely necro-tized version of her lost homeworld?

Star Wars Saturday

Solar Blades and Cosmic Spells (Session 2) Rich Rogers runs for Anders, Ethan Harvey, Sherri, and Steven Watkins The raiders are defeated, but a greater threat is uncovered.

Off-Calendar Highlights

Heroes of the Hearth: Fresh Faces (Session 2 of 2) Madelancholy runs for Paul D. and Rob Fletcher The townsfolk hear from their loved ones and of their failures in the distant battle, and secrets are revealed as the threat nears. We close out characters in this two-shot's conclusion.

Hearts of Camelot: Once and Forever (Session 4) Madelancholy runs for Chris Greenbriar, David Miessler-Kubanek, and Rod Santos Sir Bertilak offers the terms of the favor in return for his hospitality, and Ydelles makes an incredible counteroffer. Sir Elio and Sir Granit react with surprise and dismay at their friend's acceptance of changed fate. The characters continue their knightly path in their own ways in this next episode of David Adrian Randall's hack of Hearts of Wulin, Arthurian-style!

#ttrpg #rpg #rpg actual play

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aacesignco · 2 years

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Reverse channel letters have metal faces and sides, but a clear plastic backing. Mounted an inch or two away from the wall, at night these letters create a halo-lit effect. The reverse channel letters are eye-catching! For more information to visit our website https://a-acesignco.com/ or feel free to contact us.

#Channel Letter Signs #Parking Lot Lighting #Channel Letter Sign Company #Lighted Channel Letters #Neon Signs Near Me #Aluminum Signs Near Me #Wood Signs Near Me

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gogiaprints · 3 days

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Impact on Durability and Quality

In the vibrant city of Delhi, where the demand for effective advertising and visual communication tools never ceases, standee boards and sign display boards are essential. The materials used in their construction play a pivotal role in determining their durability, quality, and overall effectiveness. When searching for the "best standee board printing" or "sign display board near me" in Delhi, it's important to understand the characteristics of different materials and how they suit various needs.

1. Materials Used for Standee Boards

Standee boards are widely used for promotions, events, and indoor displays due to their portability and ease of setup. Here are some common materials:

- Vinyl: Vinyl is a popular choice for standee boards because of its durability and cost-effectiveness. It is resistant to water and humidity, which makes it suitable for both indoor and outdoor use. Vinyl prints can also be vibrant with high print quality, making them visually appealing.

- Fabric: Fabric standees are favored for their premium look and feel. Materials like polyester are often used for fabric standees as they offer sharp image quality and are lightweight. Fabric is less prone to wrinkles and can be easily transported, making it ideal for trade shows and corporate events.

- PVC: Lightweight and sturdy, PVC panels can be used for both temporary and semi-permanent standees. They are easy to print on and provide a smooth surface that enhances image quality and color depth.

2. Materials Used for Sign Display Boards

Sign display boards need to be more durable, especially if they are placed outdoors. Common materials include:

- Acrylic: Known for its durability and professional appearance, acrylic is often used for both indoor and outdoor sign display boards. It resists weathering and doesn’t yellow over time, making it a long-lasting option that maintains clarity and vibrancy of colors.

- Metal: Aluminum and aluminum composite materials (ACM) are commonly used for outdoor sign boards. These materials are highly durable, resistant to rust, and can withstand harsh weather conditions without fading or deforming.

- Corrugated Plastic: Also known as Coroplast, this material is another favorite for outdoor sign display boards due to its lightweight and waterproof nature. It’s excellent for temporary signage used in real estate or event directions.

3. Impact on Durability and Quality

The choice of material greatly impacts the durability and quality of both standee boards and sign display boards:

- Weather Resistance: Materials like vinyl, acrylic, and metal offer high resistance to the harsh Delhi weather, ensuring longevity and reducing the need for frequent replacements.

- Visual Quality: Acrylic and PVC provide a smooth surface that enhances the sharpness and vibrancy of printed graphics. Fabric offers a unique texture that can elevate the appearance of images and make colors pop.

- Sustainability: Eco-friendly materials are becoming increasingly popular due to growing environmental awareness. Options like eco-solvent prints on recyclable fabrics or biodegradable materials are considered by businesses looking to reduce their ecological footprint.

Conclusion

Selecting the right materials for standee boards and sign display boards in Delhirequires a balance between durability, aesthetic quality, and cost. Whether you’re promoting a new product, directing traffic at an event, or enhancing brand visibility, the materials you choose will dictate the effectiveness of your displays. For those seeking the highest quality and durability, Gogia Prints offers a variety of options tailored to withstand the demands of Delhi's environment while ensuring your message stands out distinctly.

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signengineears · 11 days

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Enhance Your Surroundings with Custom Street Signs in Memphis

In a vibrant city like Memphis, where history, culture, and modernity converge, street signs play a crucial role in maintaining order and adding character to the environment. Whether for urban planning, neighborhood beautification, or business purposes, custom street signs can significantly enhance the aesthetic and functional appeal of any area. If you're searching for "street signs near me" in Memphis or looking to create unique custom street signs, understanding their importance and the customization process is essential.

The Importance of Street Signs

Street signs are more than just markers of location—they serve several critical functions:

Navigation and Safety: Street signs provide clear directions and important information, helping drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians navigate safely. They reduce confusion and enhance road safety by indicating traffic rules, speed limits, and hazards.

Identity and Aesthetics: Custom street signs can reflect the unique character and history of Memphis neighborhoods. They contribute to the overall aesthetics of an area, making it more appealing to residents and visitors.

Branding and Wayfinding: For businesses, street signs are an effective way to guide customers to their location. Custom signs can incorporate branding elements, reinforcing brand identity and making it easier for customers to find their way.

Types of Custom Street Signs

Directional Signs: These signs are essential for guiding people to specific locations, such as public buildings, parks, and tourist attractions. Custom directional signs can be designed to blend seamlessly with the surroundings while providing clear, concise information.

Regulatory Signs: These signs inform road users of traffic laws and regulations, such as stop signs, yield signs, and speed limit signs. Custom regulatory signs can be tailored to meet specific needs and local regulations while maintaining high visibility and compliance.

Street Name Signs: These signs are crucial for identifying streets and intersections. Custom street name signs can be designed with unique fonts, colors, and logos to reflect the character of a particular neighborhood or district.

Informational Signs: These signs provide general information, such as parking restrictions, hours of operation for public facilities, and historical or cultural facts. Custom informational signs can enhance the educational value and attractiveness of public spaces.

The Process of Creating Custom Street Signs

Consultation and Planning: The process begins with a consultation to understand your specific needs, whether for a residential area, business district, or public space. Discuss the purpose of the signs, the desired design elements, and any regulatory requirements that need to be met.

Design and Proofing: Based on the consultation, a design is created that incorporates your ideas and meets all necessary standards. You'll have the opportunity to review and approve the design, ensuring it aligns with your vision and requirements.

Material Selection: Choosing the right materials is crucial for the durability and appearance of your street signs. Options include aluminum, reflective sheeting, and high-quality paints that withstand the elements and ensure long-lasting visibility.

Fabrication: Using state-of-the-art equipment, the custom street signs are manufactured to precise specifications. Quality control measures are in place to ensure that each sign meets the highest standards of durability and clarity.

Installation: Professional installation ensures that your custom street signs are placed correctly and securely. Proper installation is vital for both effectiveness and compliance with local regulations.

Why Choose Custom Street Signs in Memphis?

Memphis is a city with a rich cultural heritage and a unique urban landscape. Custom street signs can help preserve the city's identity while promoting safety and functionality. Here’s why investing in custom street signs is a smart choice:

Enhance Local Identity: Custom street signs can celebrate the unique character of Memphis neighborhoods, adding a personalized touch that standard signs lack.

Improve Navigation: Well-designed street signs improve navigation for both residents and visitors, reducing confusion and enhancing the overall experience of moving through the city.

Support Local Businesses: Custom street signs can help local businesses by providing clear, branded wayfinding solutions that attract and guide customers effectively.

Boost Aesthetics: High-quality custom street signs contribute to the visual appeal of streets and public spaces, creating a more welcoming and attractive environment.

Conclusion Custom street signs are a valuable asset for any community or business in Memphis. They enhance safety, improve navigation, and add a unique aesthetic appeal that reflects the local identity. Whether you're looking to beautify a neighborhood, support local businesses, or ensure clear and effective navigation, custom street signs offer a versatile and impactful solution. If you're searching for "street signs near me" in Memphis, look no further. Invest in custom street signs to elevate the functionality and charm of your surroundings, making Memphis an even better place to live, work, and visit.

#Street Signs in Memphis #Street Signs Near Me Custom Street Signs #Street Signage

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