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kiitoskiitos · 2 years

Note

what did you think of quackity’s final lore stream omg!! i know you’ve been busy so get back to this ask whenever you can!

<3 <3 <3 <3

cc!quackity did an incredible job, his passion and dedication is intoxicating. hearing him shyly yet so excitedly address chat after an emotionally heavy creative project like that is one of the best things in the world. simping, parasocially obsessing, maybe a little horny grip, you name it, i do it.

thoughts-vice it took me a while to process this lore stream actually. i get too lost on how annoying big-bad-dream plotpoints are even if this time it was fully justified (it does work since dreams need for revenge is based in quackity's horrible actions, it's one part of the massive house of cards now falling on Q).

As it often is for me, only the writings and reactions i read here on tumblr actually end up solidifying how i feel. This piece is incredible.

I do respect the concept of Slimecicle being just an embodiment of everything wrong with Quackity's hardened cruel current personality and actions finally catching up to him and ending him. But I've mostly seen slime as way more independent and emotionally mature, hiding an immerse character behind his "malleable" form. So I think he kills Quackity out of empathy in the end. He realises nothing less severe than death will be able to change Quackity. Even Slime's own death couldn't do it, actually only hardening the dis-illusion and trauma coping mechanisms, as seen in the way Q creates the slime army (i'll be real this was a bit too silly for me at first. mcrp, never change. bless up.) mixing the way his self worth is tied to his accomplishments (he needs for las nevadas to succeed) to his unresolved mourning for his dead friend (he isn't thinking clearly, he's literally recreating zombie version of slimecicle). this is not hot girl behavior. your employees are feeling very awkward rn. (also love the way people pointed out that foolish doesn't confront quackity in any point no matter how wild he goes, since they are not real friends, he's only there due to manipulation and business.)

(and i think there is obviously the compicated way the slime and Q relationship was.... not good. i still don't know how to view it. did quackity truly have someone he treated as an equal and trusted, or did he see slime as someone trust worthy only because he was, in his eyes, innocent and controllable. I think it is very fresh for slime to kill him, it's a clear switch of powerbalance between them -> at least in quackity's eyes, since i see that slime has always had way more self control and choice among the two of them aka power)

god, im so happy how this ended. i was fearing it would end in either only punishment and crucification or acceleration of greed and power. but these creators truly love their characters so much, its beautiful. Quackity going around and apologising, both for his own sake and others. HOT GIRL MOMENT!!!

also, i genuinely adored the scene between ranboo and mexican dream. they really went to limbo just to perform a boke and tsukkomi routine. though i don't even know which one is which because ranboo is the one being ridiculous tbh. Just truly... the visuals in that scene, the ways they both cope with being there, how neither's way is better, ranboo's "acceptance" which grants him no clarity or peace, Mexican dream's fragile denial which however makes him more versatile in this situation. It is probably one of my all time favorite scenes from dsmp. wanted it to last for way longer and it wont leave my head :D

#ask #posting this and going to ikea. hope it has something. hope it crunches

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justice4canyonmoon · 3 years

Text

An Evening Off

Summary: Both Y/n and Harry have a rare night off. Y/n has relaxing plans for how they should spend it.

Notes: Howdy! This is probably the last fic I’m going to post for the next two weeks; I have finals for college next week, and I have a fuck ton of work this week because professors love to give students everything at once 🙃 Anyway, I came up with the very fluffy concept because I crave emotional intimacy, so I hope you like it!!!!

Warnings: cursing ig. otherwise just a lot of fluff and taking a bath together 🥰

WC: 1.9k

Y/n was feeling lonely.

Her boring ass office job didn’t produce too many friends for her. While the people she worked with weren’t the absolute worst, they were just, well, bland. Their lives were cookie-cutter. The closest thing any of them had experienced to a true adventure was a trip to IKEA. Her two best friends, Maria and José, were across the country, since she had moved from one coast to another to live with her boyfriend. Sure, she could FaceTime them, but it just wasn’t the same. And after the call, she knew she’d just be more lonely than before.

Harry wasn’t an option either. He was working, far too hard for her liking. She understood, of course; it was album crunch time. He had to make all of the last minute decisions: finalizing the tracklist, photoshoots, and touch-ups on the chosen tracks in the studio. But she missed him. The only times she saw him anymore was right before bed, when he would stumble into the room sleepily and kiss her forehead before going right to sleep. So yeah, she was a bit lonely. And being alone on her day off wasn’t exactly the plans she wanted to have.

Luckily, the universe decided to answer her pleas. At around 1:00, after she had finished up a late shower, her phone buzzed with a text from her beloved.

H: Hi, baby! The only thing we have left on the agenda today is touching up a couple of the album tracks, so I should be home a bit earlier :D If you’d like, I can pick up some dinner on the way home.

She couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across her face. For the first time in ages, the two of them could finally have some time together! Maybe she could do something nice for him! He had been working so hard lately, he deserved it. And honestly, she did, too. An idea popped into her head, and she threw open the bathroom closet, taking a look through her bath supplies. She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out a citrus bath bomb, knowing that Harry enjoyed the calming scent of orange and lemon. A nice bath would not only help Harry destress, but it would also be the perfect cure to the loneliness that was settling in her heart. She quickly texted Harry a reply as she set the bath bomb aside.

Y/n: Sorry about the wait, babe, was just taking a shower. Forgot to this morning lol

He answered pretty much right away, making her smile.

H: It’s okay, baby! No need for apologies :)

Y/n: Okay! I’m excited to actually get to spend some time with you! I could really go for curry, if you’re up for Indian takeout.

H: Curry sounds good to me! I’ll probably be home between 6 or 7! I have to go now, but I can’t wait to see you :) I love you so much!!!!

Y/n: Can’t wait to see you, either, Har!!! I love you, too 💕💕

“Baby, ‘m home!”

Y/n looked at the clock. It was 7:30, a bit later than what Harry had said through text, but still much earlier than usual. She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the front door, tackling Harry in a hug. He laughed loudly and wound his free arm around her waist, not fully able to hug her back because of the takeout bag in his arms.

“Let me put the food down so I can give y’ a proper hug.”

She let go with a small pout on her face, which Harry promptly kissed off while setting the bag down. He then wrapped her in a tight, two-armed embrace. She melted at the contact, resting her head on his chest and hugging him back just as tightly. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then rested his head on top of hers.

“Miss you, Har,” she said, her speech slightly muffled from talking into his t-shirt.

She could feel him frown against her hair, “I miss y’ too, Y/n. The album should be done by the end of the month, and then ‘m all yours until tour starts.”

“Good. I was gonna break into the studio and steal you back myself if you weren’t done soon.”

He chuckled, “I don’ think Jeff would like that very much.”

“Fuck Jeff! I need you back here,” she scoffed.

“I certainly hope y’ don’ want t’ fuck Jeff.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned cheekily, “But yet y’ still here.”

“Lord only knows why,” Y/n grumbled, though there was a smile on her face.

They pulled away reluctantly, both realizing how hungry they were. The two chowed down on chicken curry and naan while chatting about their day. Y/n spent most of her day off watching The Great British Bake-Off and snuggling with Daiquiri, their black lab. Harry had been putting the finishing touches on three of the album songs (“I can’ wait to play them f’ y’, baby”), and ranted about the traffic coming home (“I would’ve gotten home 45 minutes earlier, but the freeway was ridiculously clogged up!”). It was domestic in a way that Y/n never thought she would have, and she loved every second of it.

When everything from dinner was cleaned up, Y/n figured now was as good a time as any to reveal her plans for the rest of their evening.

“Hey, Har,” she paused, then continued when she heard his hum of acknowledgment, “would you want to take a bath with me?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Is this a ploy t’ get me naked?”

“No,” Y/n said bashfully, “I just thought it would be nice to take a bath together. I found a citrus bath bomb at the back of the closet, and I thought it would be relaxing for us.”

Harry’s eyes softened and he smiled gently at her, “That sounds perfect, love. Y’ too sweet.”

The two made their way to the bathroom, hand in hand. Y/n plucked the bath bomb from the closet and laid it in the tub, turning on the warm water. The water became a pastel shade of yellow, reflecting the lemony scent of the bath bomb. As she was checking the temperature, a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, and a kiss was pressed to her cheek. The heat radiating off of his body led her to believe that Harry had already rid himself of his clothes. When she turned around, her suspicions were confirmed.

“You work fast,” she commented, making a humming sound when the temperature was to her satisfaction.

“A bit,” he confirmed, leaning over to turn off the nozzle “just wanna take a bath with y’, love. Speaking of, let’s get those pesky clothes off of y’, shall we?”

Y/n nodded and Harry reached forward, almost reverently lifting her (his) sweatshirt over her head. She shimmied out of her leggings and removed her undergarments. She stepped into the bath first, gesturing for him to follow. He obeyed, and sat between her legs, resting his head on her shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while, basking in each other’s company. Y/n couldn’t remember a time where she had felt this at peace. But she also knew that Harry had forgotten to shower that morning since he was nearly late to the studio, so she reached over and grabbed some soap and a washcloth. She looked down at him and giggled softly when she realized he was almost asleep

“Wake up, baby,” she crooned, “let me wash you.”

“‘M awake,” he muttered, “promise.”

“Sure you are, that’s why your eyes are closed,” Y/n teased.

He only hummed in response, making her giggle again. She kissed his forehead and began washing him gently. The soft circles she was rubbing into his skin with the washcloth were soothing, and a sleepy smile made its way onto his face.

“‘Y always take such good care of me. Dunno how I got s’ lucky.”

Y/n felt her face grow warm as she reached for the shampoo, “I think I’m the lucky one. You always take care of me, too.”

She began rubbing the shampoo into his silky locks. Breathy gasps fell from his lips as she tugged lightly as his hair, working the shampoo into his curls.

“Feels s’ good,” he murmured.

“Glad you’re feeling good, Har,” Y/n replied in a hushed tone.

She rinsed his hair and repeated the process with the conditioner. By the time she had finished, Harry had fully fallen asleep on her shoulder. She cooed softly at how adorable he looked. He was like an angel; his long lashes were speckled with little water drops, his wet hair stuck to his forehead in an oddly endearing way, and a small smile was spread across his lips. He looked so relaxed in a way that Y/n hadn’t seen in a while. The bath helped her feel more at ease too; the monotonous motions of washing Harry made the stress from her job melt away, and the loneliness that had plagued her earlier in the day was washed away by the warm water. But she knew she had to wake Harry. She wasn’t quite strong enough to carry all six feet of him back to their bedroom.

Y/n gently jostled his shoulder and whispered, “Harry. Need you to wake up, baby.”

He groaned softly, making her giggle softly once more. His eyes slowly blinked open to reveal his jade irises, and he stumbled his way out of the tub, making her laugh a little harder as she followed. Y/n got out two towels and dried them both off, knowing that Harry was much too tired to do it on his own. She took his hand and walked toward their bedroom.

When they reached the bedroom, Y/n guided Harry to sit on the bed while she picked out sweats for both of them to wear to sleep (she knew that Harry had a particular fondness for when she wore his clothes to bed, so she got out his clothes for both of them). Harry pliantly moved his limbs as she clothed him, and watched her with moony eyes as she pulled on her own sleepwear.

“Look s’ pretty in m’ clothes, love,” he complimented, relishing in the shy smile that appeared on her face.

“Thank you, Har. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” she replied.

Y/n turned off the light and joined Harry on the bed. He was already lying on his side, so she wound her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Usually, he was the big spoon, but with the whole mood they had set all night, it just felt right for her to be the one cuddling him. Y/n barely heard Harry mumble a “g’night. Love you,” before his breathing evened out. She smiled and closed her eyes, reflecting on the day. Just spending one evening with her boyfriend made her feel right as rain, and the loneliness that had once threatened to overtake her was totally gone. Though she had been taking care of him that night, he was also taking care of her. And sure, they were both going back to work tomorrow, but in two weeks, Harry would be done with the album and would be all hers. When sleep finally overtook her, all she had were the most pleasant of dreams.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine

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thebrotherswholoved · 5 years

Note

stranger: *crying* your son hit me in the face! Sam: Jack! Why did you do that??? Jack: The bitch said 'what are those?' i just gave him a closer look.

sorry this took so long, love! I kinda sorta forgot to post it one here…oops:/ hope you enjoy (I kind changed the prompt a bit, hope that’s alright)

fanfiction: or worse…expelled

Summary: a blessed tumblr user (@say-yes-to-hole) gave me a prompt—and I thought I’d be a jolly lad and deliver (oops I kinda changed it a wee bit)

Content: Jack’s 3 Dads, AU where TFW 2.0 can be happy without dying, normal kid stuff, Cas being an asexual cutie pie, obviously wincest (not explicit–it’s mentioned like maybe five times), Domestic Fluff, Friendship Bracelets

Read on Ao3

Dean has always known where this life would lead him. It didn’t seem far fetched a year ago to envision his own death at the hands a hungry ghoul, emaciated vamp, or even at the hands of the monster they let into their home, the one he denied and denied as part of his adopted family until he was out of breath. Last year, Dean only saw pseudo-infant Jack Kline as a threat, not only to his clan but to the world.

He’d always thought he knew that the road so far would continue into the dead end ahead, that he’d never escape this hunter hell to fulfil his desperate pleas for domestic life, locked gun storage, and worn sigils under wallpaper and rugs, long forgotten by their Michelangelo.

He never in a million years thought that he’d be here: sitting in shitty lunchroom chair between his now-official adopted son and brother-turned-lover, who’s trying to send a bat signal to the couple’s fallen angel friend (and coparent) while side-eyeing the terrifying woman in front of them. He’s gotten so lost in the blue-green-yellow abyss of Sam’s eyes that he’s forgotten altogether why the hell he’s sitting here—that is, until he reads the plaque on the desk before the quartet.

Mrs. Harriet Allen

Dean of Students and President of Scholastic Affairs

Oh, yeah. This buzzkill is trying to buzz-kill his son, which he hopes she knows isn’t going to happen. He may have had a spinal injury five months ago but he can still body-bag her if need be. In an unfortunate turn of events, she notices the devious grin forming on Dean’s face in all the grotesque insanity of “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

“Is something funny, Mr. Winchester?” She snaps at him. He watches her wrinkles crease and release with anger and has to look away to avoid snort-laughing.

“Not at all, Harriet,” he pops his lips with a stern gaze of challenging authority and a smug raise of his eyebrow.

Sam gives him a look that says “what the hell are you doing” and flinches when she shuts the drawer of her IKEA desk (the builder of which, per Dean, did a shitty job assembling it) in a rather abrupt and terrifying way. Dean doesn’t even flinch, but becomes intrigued when she maintains eye contact while flipping open an ominous-looking manila folder. The thing has four, maybe five pieces of paper enclosed and has been desecrated with shaky, all-uppercase letters spelling out the words “KLINE-WINCHESTER, JACK.”

“My plaque says Mrs. Allen and so you will call me Mrs. Allen,” her thick-rimmed glasses dip on her ski slope nose when she narrows her gaze at Cas, who hasn’t uttered a thing in almost ten minutes.

Pushing the lenses back to magnify her grey-black eyes, she clears her throat and looks at Jack, who’s been twiddling his thumbs and fiddling with his bracelets since they arrived. “Mr. Kline-Winchester, do you know why I’ve called you and your…retinue here today?”

“These are my dads,” he clarifies with a meek flicker of his hooded eyes. “And, yeah, I do, ma’am.”

“Alright, and would you like to tell your dads what the reason is?” She shuffles her chair—faux leather, Dean notes, already shriveling and flaking apart—forward to intimidate. Mrs Allen sees these three men as unruly subjects to her velvet fist, but it’s revealed by her heel tapping beneath the desk that she sees Dean as more of a threat to her authority than the rest of Jack’s “retinue.”

Jack glances down the row at Sam, who’s trying to be a stern father by raising an eyebrow—an empty gesture to say the least, and then moves to distracted-by-superiority Dean, and ends at Cas, poor Cas and his helpless glint of confused trepidation that has become his defining characteristic.

Inhaling a shaky breath laced with lack of understanding at his offence, he begins his avowal in this hell of a confessional. “I…hit someone.”

Mrs Allen leans forward again. “Where did you hit them?”

“In the face. Inferior to the nasal bone.” He says in a signature “Castiel” matter-of-fact way—no room for bullshit. Sam can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at his use of the terms he learned in Anatomy last week, the exam on which he got a 98 percent. “I didn’t feel any cracking. It was a low-impact hit, and it’d cause a superficial bruise at the w—“

“That’s enough, thank you,” Harriet puts her hand up to stop the inevitable spiel about medical terminology. God, Sam loves his quirky nerd of a son. “Why did you hit Mr. Hiscock?”

Dean snorts and doesn’t even try to hide it. He actually feels bad for this Hiscock kid—not because of Jack’s ‘low-impact’ punch but because his last name is just unfortunate. Mrs Allen really hates that he did that, and slams her fist down on the table.

“That is incredibly inappropriate, Mr Winchester,” she grumbles, but all Dean can see is Nurse Ratchet in her place. Poor Jack has to be Danny DeVito, though. He mouths a mocking apology and sits back in his chair like he did as a jock in high school. “Jack, continue. Why did you hit…Ivan?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to hit him.” Jack attempts to explain his “extensive misconduct” as the letter said—fuck, Sam thought he’d been caught having sex or smoking pot. The reality is that Jack Kline in all his purity thinks sex is for marriage and “pot” is for flowers. “I think he misunderstood…or maybe I did.”

Harriet squints her eyes at the boy and folds her arms, wedding rings becoming visible. Dean’s concentration is playing Never Have I Ever with some drunk sophomores in the janitor’s closet by now, but he finds it surprising that she found someone to marry at all. Maybe she’d been preppy and beautiful in her youth, but her significant other could still ride his Acorn stair-lift to freedom.

“What could Ivan have misunderstood, Jack?”

The sixteen-year-old literal toddler watches Cas fiddle with his trench coat button and sighs. “Well…he asked me about my bracelets.”

Mrs Allen moves to scan his wrists for these supposed wristbands but can’t see his hands over her giant plaque. “What bracelets?”

“Oh, these!” He perks up like Dean had snuck him a Pixie Stick or something, surprising everyone in the room. Jack jerks his wrists into the air and smiles. “Cas got a kit for Christmas, and so Sam, Dean, and Cas made some for me. They’re supposed to be friendship bracelets, but I like to call them ‘family bracelets.’”

Sam is the first to show his blue-green threaded band with a soft smile. “Mine says ‘happiness is only real when shared.” It’s a quote from Into the Wild.”

“And mine,” Dean rolls up his sleeve to reveal his own purple and red wristband, “says ‘kick some ass, kid’ because I’m not a nerd like my husband.”

Harriet is caught off-guard when Cas speaks, probably having expected a light and airy voice instead of the deep, monotone one that sounds when he holds his wrist up to show the black-white-yellow pattern he dons. “Mine says ‘go watch the bees.’ You won’t understand it if you weren’t there at the time.”

“Dude, you weren’t even there at the time,” Dean whispers at the angel, who simply nods his head to the left. “You were so spray-paint-high on barbiturates and propofol that you made your way into a cornfield to catch the damn bee. Sammy and I chased you for, like, twenty minutes.”

“Enough, please,” Harriet is rubbing at her temples now, praying to God, who’s currently in Cuba on a sabbatical, for this to end soon. “Jack, what did Ivan say about your bracelets that made you punch him? Was it a bullying situation?”

Jack shakes his head and scrunches up his nose in thought. “No…he pointed at them and yelled ‘what are those?!’ So, I showed them to him. I didn’t mean to hurt him, even though he does throw grapes at me at lunch. I don’t even like grapes.”

This time, Sam is the one to break down into a fit of laughter, unbridled and uncontainable, because of his son’s comment. Dean falls from grace next and joins his giant lover in his spasms of glee, not caring about the daggers Mrs Allen is eyeing them with. Cas just looks at the woman and in all his naïveté ignores the way his coparents are behaving.

“Is Jack in trouble, ma’am?” His blue eyes flutter and squint in confusion. “The letter we got threatened expulsion, and if he’s expelled I’ll have to buy more Crunch Cookie Crunch and nougat.”

Harriet has been forced into defeat by this junior and his dysfunctional parents, and therefore sighs and leans back while pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No, he’s not.” She mutters despite the noise from the two men still calming down. “Now, can you please get out of my office?”

#wincest #sam x dean #sam/dean #samdean #otp: and they were soulmates #fanfic #my fanfiction #wincest fanfic #tfw #tfw 2.0 #domestic boys #wincest crack #crack fic #jacks three dads

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cchellacat · 5 years

Text

The Checkout

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge

Day Seven ~ Shopping

Bucky/Darcy Tissue warning. I’m sorry.

Bucky hated crowds. It’s why he’s grocery shopping at 3 in the morning in the 24 hour store five blocks from the Tower on a Tuesday night.

The place is quiet, only the cashier at the checkout slumped over the register, head phones over his ears as he bobs his head tiredly to whatever noise passes for music these days.

Although the range of produce to buy has multiplied exponentially since the 40’s he wishes things were simpler, trying to choose a breakfast cereal was a nightmare. Rice, wheat, oats, chocolate, nuts, honey, sugar frosted? Puffs, flakes, pillows…. Are they kidding him? Who needs this much variety? It’s just cereal.

The bell gives a muted jingle and he looks up and spies an oddly familiar head enter the shop, a riot of wavy curls swept up in a clip. He’s seen her before. She works down in the astrophysics labs at the Tower. Daria or Dacey or something. He ignores her, the girl’s not a threat, and goes back to searching the cereal.

“Hey there soldier, I know you have a bad ass rep as an assassin, but the cereal didn’t do anything, what’s the problem?” It’s the girl, she’s peering up at him with tired eyes through rectangular frames. She has a basket slung over her arm and is filling it to overflowing with a multitude of boxes of pop tarts.

He grunts, hoping she’ll leave him alone, he’s got no interest in talking.

“You know, answering me will be less painless than the cereal-killer jokes I’ll be making tomorrow if I don’t get context for that murder glare.”

He glances back down at her, she’s moved closer and there is the faintest hint of a smile in her eyes. What the hell is wrong with her, didn’t she read the briefings all the staff in the Tower were made to sign?

“Tough crowd.” She mutters with a roll of her eyes before reaching across him to grab a bag of muesli.

“Have you got a death wish sweetheart?”

This time it’s her that glares.

“Okay… One, don’t call me sweetheart and two, no, I’m just trying to be friendly. Three, if you threaten me like that again I will tase you in the junk.”

He’s caught off guard at the abrupt indignation in her voice. She’s all of five two and bristling at him with all the menace of a wet kitten. He sighs internally, taking in the dressing down and reluctantly admitting he deserves it. His mother would be rolling in her grave if she knew he talked to a lady like that.

“Sorry…. Still not used to being a person again yet. I wasn’t threatenin’ you I just… You know who I am right?”

“Well like duh, of course I know who you are.”

“You read the briefing packet on me.?”

“I may have skimmed it, sort of, the last page where I had to sign.”

“I’m dangerous. You shouldn’t get too close or make any sudden moves around me.”

“What? Like you’re some sort of dinosaur? And no disrespect, but the only thing in imminent danger seems to be Captain Crunch.” She looks pointedly at where he’s clutching the cardboard of the box hard enough to have burst through the packaging. Eyes rolling skyward asking for some patience he puts it back on the shelf and shuffles a few undamaged boxes to the front.

“Chill my dude and tell Darcy what’s the problem. I’m good at this whole introduction to modern America, I managed to house train Thor for Jane, he hardly ever smashes his cups anymore.”

The image of Thor being smacked on the nose with a new paper and brought to heel by the tiny firecracker beside him makes him chuckle.

“See, you like me already!” she chirps brightly.

“You’re mad.” He tells her.

“All the best people are! Now spill, what has the fearsome Winter Soldier all riled up?”

“Just want some cereal, nothing fancy. There’s just too much and it’s all…“ He trails off, not sure how to explain his need for something familiar in all the chaos or brightly packaged breakfast goods.

Darcy bends down and grabs a plain white package and hold it’s out to him.

“I figure you’re the sweet and simple type, nothing has changed about the humble cornflake in a century.”

“Thanks, Doll.” He takes it with relief, something he recognised at least and together they make their way to the checkout.

Being the gentleman he is he offers to carry the five bags she comes out of the store with and she happily agrees, hooking her hand in his elbow companionably as they make their way back.

It was an interesting beginning.

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“You got the list?” She’d called him just as he stepped out of the door.

“Got it.”

“Did you remember to take Sam off the list?” He winces and presses the button for the elevator.

“Sam wasn’t on the list.”

“That’s just mean…” the lack of sincerity in her tone is comforting. She and Sam got on about as well as he and Sam, that is to say not at all. She had Sam running in circles most days trying to work out why shit kept happening to him. Darcy had Jarvis in her pocket and could count on him for technical support.

“Told you not to get him anything, he’s menace.”

“I ordered him a Make Your Own Cheese kit.” Bucky draws a blank, make your own cheese?

“What the hell is he gonna do with that?”

“Keep up Tin-man, he’ll make cheese. Publicly. In the common kitchen and everyone gets to watch him fail or triumph. I will be judging the shit out of it.”

He grins at the thought of Darcy winding Sam up with comments while he tries to cook.

“S’not a bad idea.” The evelvator finally reaches the lobby and he steps out just as she cannon balls into him. He grins down at her and pockets his phone before kissing her nose.

“Ready to go?”

“Am I ever, we are going to kick Christmas shopping’s ass and be home in time for dinner.”

“Okay, remember the plan?”

“Look as innocent and helpless as possible where appropriate and when not, let you do the not talking till they let us past.”

“You run into trouble, no starting a fight, you’re not allowed to taser people in New York, not even for being assholes.”

“Stupid laws…“ She mutters as he wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her out onto the street, it’s interesting to note that his presence has the desired effect she was looking for, there was a bubble of space around them at least three feet wide.

“I hate the crowds but the best deals are to be had out there and you my glorious Winter Shopper are going to be the best bodyguard/bag carrier I’ve ever had. Now on a more serious matter, what does Bucky Barnes want for Christmas?”

“All I want for Christmas is you, Doll.”

“You keep saying that I’m going think you mean it.”

“What if I do?”

“Don’t be surprised at me showing up wearing nothing but a bow.”

He nearly runs into a lamp post and she pulls him out of the way just in time.

It’s the way she says it, both cheeky and with a touch of vulnerability that shakes his world. They’d been friends for a while now, he’d certainly not missed how pretty she was and if this had been before he’d have had her in his bed months ago. They stop in the middle of the busy street and she tips her head up to look him right in the eye, waiting for him to say something. His hands cup her elbows and she holds her breath.

It’s like he’s at some fork in the road, two choices in front of him, the one he knows and the one less traveled. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and leans down till his lips graze the tip of it.

“Don’t mind how you wrap yourself up doll, just make sure the bow’s red.”

The way her eyes widen and the blush creeps up her cheeks he’d caught her off guard. Then it’s his turn as she grabs him by the collar and pulls him into a kiss. It’s the kiss that changes his life, on a snowy sidewalk in Manhattan.

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

They’d been in the store for what felt like week and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. He’s sure in fact, that where they are, is Swedish Hell. He groans as she tosses another throw and a set of cushions into the trolley he’s pushing.

“Hey, Bucky, what’s left on the list?”

He digs around under some dishes and a set of towels and pulls out the neon pink paper and hands it to her.

“Hmm… looks like we have almost everything, just one more and then we can go”

“Jesus Doll, don’t we have enough already?”

“We need a bed Bucky, we did not think this whole thing through with the new apartment. Come on, it’ll be fun. You can test em out till we find the right one!”

Growling under his breath he pinches her side, sending her jumping a mile, right into a security guard that gives her a look for about point five seconds before his glare falls to Bucky who sends his best murder grin. It’s the guard that apologises to Darcy then and he retreats quickly as she cackles with glee.

It takes them another two hours to find a bed they both like and agree should hold up okay even with his strength and her need to occasionally jump on it.

It’s lying side by side in Ikea that it happens. One small moment that they can never get back again, a first that came from nowhere.

She’s peering over a pillow at him as they lie on the bed they’ve chosen, he can’t remember now what it was she said that made him laugh, but he remembers her shit eating grin and the way he wiped it off her face with the sort of kiss they usually reserved for the bedroom, but that’s when he says it.

“love you Darcy-girl.” Her smile lights up the world.

“l love you too babe.”

They’re like a couple of teenagers going through the checkout, whispering and holding hands and kissing. The cashier gives them an indulgent look and slips a wedding registry booklet into the bag as she helps pack them up.

That night they make love on top of his old mattress on the floor of their new apartment, still high on the declaration of new love.

“How much do you love me Doll?”

“I love you all the muches and with much muchness.” She tells him seriously as he kisses her slowly, hands trailing over her skin, mapping all the places he intends to kiss while she sighs into his mouth in happy languor. Lying there in the dark later, he thinks about the wedding registry and pulls her closer.

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

The list pinned to the fridge also has a plastic bag attached. At first he doesn’t think anything of it, he’s always happy to go to the store with her so when she texts him to bring the list from the fridge he’s on auto pilot as he grabs it, catching the clear bag in his metal hand as it drops when he tugs the list free.

The double take he then does at the item within makes him feel like the world just tipped sideways for a second. He stares at the plastic wand in the bag, vaguely recognising it for what it is. If the two pink lines don’t confirm it, the list she’d asked him to pick up does.

Crib

Changing table

Cloth nappies

Bugaboo stroller

Car seat

Onesies

Sling

It takes him four minutes to get down to the lab where she’s waiting for him, near sick with worry at what his reaction might be. They hadn’t talked about it, never even thought about it, they’d only been married for six months.

He bursts into the lab and has her in his arms not a second later planting the teariest kiss he’s ever given her on her.

“We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Your gonna be the best Ma a kid ever had sweetheart.”

“Shut up and don’t call me sweetheart… I know you’re gonna be the best dad ever Bucky Barnes”

“We’re having a baby.”

It’s the happiest day of his life.

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

“Mr Barnes… Mr Barnes?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Ahh… well if you could choose from the cherry or the mahogany…” The woman trailed off and tilted the catalogue towards him again. He flicked a quick eye over the page and scrubbed a hand over his face.

Briefly the thought that Darcy would know what to choose drifted by in his brain. What a fuckin joke.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice was overly cautious and placating. He really wanted to just punch him in the face.

“M’not make of glass pal.” The tone was weary and bitter.

“Cherry.” He tells her shortly and then manages to get through the rest of the choices without Steve making another noise.

Out in the street he lights a cigarette and inhales a deep draw.

“I’ll walk back.” He tells Steve as the town car draws up. “Alone.” He reinforces the order with a brief shove of his friend toward the car.

He walks there unconsciously, or maybe consciously, he really isn’t sure. There’s nothing very different about the place. The police tape and the glass had been cleared up and replaced. The grocery store looks just as it always has.

It was stupid. The whole thing was stupid. She’d only popped out to get milk. He hadn’t even been there. He’d been upstate when it happened. Training the new recruits for Hill.

When he’d reached the scene her body had already been moved to the morgue. Some punk kid, high, looking for some easy cash had robbed the store. She’d been at the checkout with the milk, minding her own damn business but some hero type had tried to stop the kid and the gun went off.

He’d seen her body, the bullet had went straight through her heart. From all accounts she’d been dead before she even hit the floor. By the time the paramedics got there it had been too late to try resuscitating her or even to save the baby. A daughter, they’d told him when they brought him in to view the body. Tiny and perfect and beautiful, just like her Ma.

He stands there, looking through the window and remembers her handing him a box of cereal. It ended where it began, in a store on the corner of East 42nd and Lexington. His fingers fold around the list in his pocket and he draws it out to look at it again like had had a few dozen times since he took it down off the fridge.

Crib

Changing table

Cloth nappies

Bugaboo stroller

Car seat

Onesies

Sling

He holds the burning end of the cigarette to the corner and watches as the paper turns to ash, then he turns and walks away. Away from the Tower and away from the life he’d been stupid enough to think he had. He’s going home.

SKIP TO FIX IT

@captain-rogers-beard

#love all the marvel ships #Love all the marvel ships challenge #Bucky/Darcy #wintershock #tissue warning #sad #character death

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creepypasta-fandom-is-trash · 6 years

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Immature

hey, guys, I’m really sorry for not being active as of late. However, I’ve been working on this fiction assignment and I um... I hope you like it.

I love my apartment. The cloud gray walls, the dark wood trimming, it all just radiates the professional atmosphere that completes my new adult life. The sleek, modern Ikea furniture combined with the frugal paintings of a young art connoisseur. Maturity doesn't come easy, and with the changing of one's age comes the changing of one's mind. I am an adult, a strong, independent, graceful adult who doesn't go to college parties. I am...

“Weak,” I mutter, chowing down on my third sub sandwich of the day “I'm so weak.”

Mayonnaise, cheese, and pastrami, such a beautiful combination for a blossoming man-child like myself. The rough, unshaven shadow of a beard brushes my fingers as I wipe away leftover mayonnaise from my sandwich. Regret fills my chest as I place a hand on my stomach, it's usually flat due to my terrible budgeting skills; however, a large bump has formed where my stomach is, effectively showing how many sandwiches I've eaten. Typically I don't eat nearly this much, but since the death of my downstairs neighbor, Debby, I just... haven't been right. She was such a sweet old lady. Always collected vintage kid's bowls and beanie babies, Debby was a darling and I miss her so much. Even her obnoxious blue nail polish was endearing.

A sigh leaves my throat as I drag my gaze down to the bowl of Waffle Crispies on the coffee table. A second - much louder - sigh leaves my lips as I reach over and grab the cheap plastic. I don't know where my roommate keeps these or where he gets them, but he has a collection of kids' bowls that he uses to eat his....cereal? I think it's cereal. It's basically just sugary packing peanuts in the shape of waffles, but he likes them and I don't have to buy them so I don't care.

"Herbert!" I call into the blackness of the hallway "Clean up your junk when you're done with it!" Looking down into the soggy mess, I ponder gently whether or not my roommate is an actual adult male. After all, the dinosaurs on this particular bowl are made for a toddler, my neighbor's kids would be better off with this bowl. Actually, now that I look closer, it would appear that this bowl has a gratuitous amount of scratches on its surface. The thing looks like it's been thrown out a window. A chip off the side allowing a hair-thin crack to trace down the side of the bowl. Knowing Herbert's tendency to sleep in high up places like a lunatic, he did this.

Maybe Herbert is just a huge whiny teenager who decided to live life to the edgiest extent by moving in with some dumb liberal arts major. His dirty pine green hoodie? His tendency to sleep in closets? it just reeks of immaturity. At least I can invest in some bowls that aren't cracked. Grumbling under my breath, I take the bowl to the sink and prepare to dump the goop down the drain. The dark pink strawberry milk gushing between the soggy golden cereal bits make me stare in mild disgust. The mush falls against the chrome sink with a disgusting plop, the sound causing a shiver to race down my spine. Something smells oddly copper-like about this milk. Could it be the spoon?

"What are you doing?" The gravelly voice of my roommate startles me out of my trance, his lanky frame most likely posted up in the doorway. I turn to face him, nearly gagging at the sight of his medical-masked face. It's not that I dislike people who enjoy those "Japanese medical masks", the one's you're supposed to wear when you're sick but don't want to buy a bunch of throwaway ones. It's honestly bizarre.

"I'm taking care of the gross cereal you left?" I answer, a tad insulted by his glaring blue gaze underneath that forest green hood.

"I wasn't finished with it," Herbert groans, stuffing his ashy white hands into his pockets and crossing his jean-clad legs.

"It was mush,"

"So's your brain, apparently, but I'm not dropping it into the sink,"

It's at this point that I notice the vague squirming noise coming from the sink. A squishy squelching from the lump of waffle cereal. Turning around, I gaze down into the gross lump, watching as small brown bodies writhe around in the mush.

"Maggots..." I gasp softly, backing away from the tiny creatures. The sound of those itty bitty bugs chowing down on the cereal ringing in my ears. My heart throbs wildly in my chest, the soft white lights on my ceiling swirling with my stomach. A large, soft object blocks my path backwards.

"Jamie, get out of the way," Herbert whispers, pulling me aside and walking over to the cabinet. The scrawny man grabs a cup from the cupboard, scooping the maggots into the cup. As I watch him lift up the maggot-filled glass cup I think back at all the bowls of Waffle Crispies he's eaten. Hundreds of bowls of crispies eaten just out of sight, just away from my sight. Had they always contained such filth? Tenderly, with the gentleness of a trained surgeon, Herbert reaches into the glass, plucking out a long, frail object riddled with worms.

“What... is that...” I whimper, pulling my knees to my chest and shivering. Herbert hums, setting down the cup and slipping a pale finger under his mask. Sweat pools and runs down my back, soaking my shirt and causing a violent shudder to race through my body. Slowly, Herbert pulls down his mask. Beneath the black cloth lays something... filthy. Horrible. Bile rises in my throat as my eyes widen. A large, thin-lipped grin wraps around his features, his teeth like a dog's and his tongue like a worm wiggling out the side of his gaping maw. Herbert's being shakes violently Like a father to his newborn, Herbert gently pulls the writhing maggots from the object in his hand, tossing them back into the bowl.

“Pet, pet, pet, pet,” Herbert mutters, his lips remaining statue still and his piercing blue eyes staring down at the pale object. Upon picking off each worm I note the crimson hunks of meat still clinging to the glistening white bone of the object. Obnoxious blue nail polish glitters in the kitchen lighting. I am not allowed much time to absorb the nature of the mauled finger before Herbert opens his cavernous mouth and bites down onto Debby's finger. An audible snap emits from the deceased woman's bone as Herbert gnaws the meat off. Bile rises in my throat and I find myself squirming in my spot. Disgust is surely written all over my features as my demented roommate pull off his hood, letting light bathe his matted hair. A third, brilliant blue eye blinks from above the beast's right eye, an empty socket blinks above the left. Horrible grinding comes from the beast's mouth as he lovingly picks up the cup of maggots, their squelching growing ever louder as he carries them out of the room.

Silence fills the air, a cool draft bathing my damp skin in icy waves. Confusion twists around in my chest as I slowly sit up and gaze around the kitchen.

“That...” I pant, scowling and staring at the exit of the room “was so immature.” groaning, I stand up and wipe my hands off on my pants. White hot anger brews in my chest as I storm out from the room, stomping down the hallway and into my room. Asylum gray walls close in around me as my clammy hands run through my meticulously groomed locks. Why? Why does he have to be so immature? He even did some of that stupid special effect makeup to scare me. What a dumb prank.

“It didn't work!” I shout, slamming my fist into the door and growling “You hear that?? It did not work! Your dumb immature prank hasn't affected me at all. At. All! And using Debby as leverage to scare me?! That's low even for you!” Snarling, I grab the nearest item, a large book, and throw it at the door. A loud thud resounds from the door as the thick cover cracks against the wood. Furious, I throw myself onto the large, perfectly made bed and growl to myself. Closing my eyes, I try my hardest to fall asleep; however, despite my best attempts, I can't help but remember the sound of those maggots. The slimy, squelching, filthy beasts plague my hearing, the crunching of the fake finger meshing in with the horrible sounds. Deep down I feel an emptiness grow, just as though those maggots are burrowing deep into my core like a gang of mango worms. The sound grows deafening, and if I didn't know better, I'd say that he's in here with me, eating that finger. Grumbling softly, I cover my ears and try to block out the sounds, tears prick at my eyelids as I sniffle and whine. A gentle voice whispers, perhaps from the back of my mind, perhaps from under the bed.

“Are you crying? How immature”

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juliopoling2-blog · 6 years

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Hindu Little one Companies As well as Their Significances Through Julie Parker

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josephkitchen0 · 6 years

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... and then Spring!

March 15~ Days have been steadily streaming by. We do our routines, we face small surprises, and minor disruptions. We fold laundry, collect eggs, and progress on bigger projects. All of the siding is on the carport, which officially resembles a doorless garage. Everyone has shared in the effort, thankfully. And of course, there's more to do. There's always more to do, right? Hello, Maddie. Maddie stops at our Little Free Library, and sometimes, she lies down. Even if she's not having a treat, she just considers this the rest stop on her daily outing. We feel so honored. Sweet Maddie. March 18~ Balancing on surfboards, that I've seen, but I think this is first time I've seen a board balancing on a surfer. This is why it pays to go out, look around, shake-up the routine. We had a chance to shake-up our routine, at cousin Izzy's Rocking and Rolling skate birthday, and whoa! was that a lot of fun. There were a lot of smiles seen on that day, and I think Maria and I are both happily sold on skating roller rink parties. Maria got better and more confident with each lap. I certainly did not expect to go for it, and I am glad I did. Izzy promises to do this one again, next year... so I think the birthday girl had a good time, too. I came home in time to take Alex's roadside phone call. His vehicle died. On the freeway. He'd already managed everything brilliantly, safely getting off the freeway, calling our roadside service (thank you, AAA.) All I had to do was meet him at the repair shop. The diagnosis for Gold Honda is not good, but all I can think about is how relieved and thankful I feel that Alex got home safely. He had been in Los Angeles, late at night, in pouring rain, and the sudden kaput happened while we was in the fast lane, but he was only 14 miles from home, and a good samaritan gave him the last push he needed to get the dead van to a safe spot. Thank goodness, thank goodness, thank goodness. Geoff is at a conference in San Francisco... a last hurdle after all the months of crunch mode hours, but we're managing. His first night there he sent me a picture of the hotel lobby, and of course it's enviably gorgeous and elegant, and so I returned the favor, and sent him a picture of my evening plans, and hot date... Don't be jealous, but this is what awaited me... an evening with the Laundry Cats. You know what? It was kind of enviable. Alex and Maria joined me, then Max. The cats were funny distractions, and we made all kinds of progress, restoring order, and adding laughs to our night. We almost got all of the laundry folded, hung, and put away. Except, Cairo wouldn't give up his socks. He pulled them out of the pile, grabbed them from us, and when we started to cover him, he only looked pleased. He slept through the night like this, until 1:00, when he did one of his rat dances. Have I mentioned the rat dances? They are so weird. Cairo is so weird. Spring! It happened just like that! One minute I am dealing with a cat that walks on me, backwards, in circles, with an Ikea rat in his teeth, and the next thing I know it is Spring. I didn't have to look far for the signs, it's been coming along sure and steady, in the garden, in the light, those longer afternoons that stretch into what is beginning to feel almost endless. Even our plans and discussions, lately, mark a change of season, as we discuss summer plans, hopes, ideas. Alex suggested we resurrect my old potting table, which feels like a sweet and practical nod to spring... restoration, and a fresh start. We cleared it off, and tossed a heap of old and broken bits. We bought a can of paint, and he's been sanding, and repairing. Speaking of fresh starts and new seasons suddenly springing on us... our girl, our very youngest, has been accepted into the school of her choice. Her high school of choice. She made the choice when she was four years old, and wanted to go to the same school as her big brother. I can't believe the time has come. Well, almost. She's still finishing her accelerated middle school plans, and there is summer, yet. But looming, and already making demands, is high school. I cannot believe it. Did I already say that? I'll not candy-coat this: I am shaken. Proud, and appreciative, but totally shaken. Last night was "enrollment night." Maria got to check out electives, meet teachers, pick up her registration packet. And learn about school clubs... like robotics. And. Yeah. We know about robotics. Some of you may recall that we were 2102% robot obsessed for four years. Maria was three years old, when Alex joined team Paradox, just four when she traveled to Arizona, for a second FRC competition. We go way back, and we were way deep into it. Cecilia! Maria had a happy reunion with her ballet folklorico friend, who happens to be coder for Paradox... This may be the start of something. Girls who dance, and code, who love their school, and robots... there is something happening. Actually, this may just be the next chapter of something that started a long time ago, but it's all new, again! So, here is Maria, meeting David, consulting with Cecilia, and getting the scoop on metal shop, Solid Works, marketing, outreach, engineering, and tech wheel. I stepped back, and tried to take it all in, from a distance. I cannot believe it. It comes, and goes, so fast. Too fast. I am shaken. Adrian! Grade school buddy. Amira! Anagram sister. After all these years, they will be going to the same school. Taking this picture, I could see this moment as one that will stay with me, and in the next four years, I will return to it, thinking... where did the time go? ... and then Spring! was originally posted by All About Chickens

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vulnerablesync-blog · 6 years

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How To Hone Digital In 2018

New Post has been published on http://vulnerablesync.com/2018/02/03/how-to-hone-digital-in-2018/

How To Hone Digital In 2018

It’s the time of year when brands pause to take analyze the successes the past twelve months have brought and begin looking to the future for new ways to hone their digital strategies. Planning effectively for the future means having clear insight into the technologies, behaviors, and consumer expectations that will define the coming year.

Below we dive into four digital trends that will have a big impact on the digital sphere in 2018.

Voice Search; A Force To Be Reckoned With

2017 was the year that the importance and influence of conversational interfaces crystallized. The pace of adoption of connected speakers like the Amazon Echo and Google Home was impressive in 2017 and shows no signs of slowing down in the year to come. Data published by eMarketer estimates that 24.5 million connected speakers will ship by the end of the year and pegs the U.S. household penetration at 13.8% by the end of 2018. Adoption of connected speakers means that a growing number of U.S. households are being introduced to the voice assistants that power these devices.

Voice assistants and chatbots are poised to have a significant impact on the way users engage with information on the web. From purely search perspective, voice assistants mean that (ideally) users are presented with a single correct answer to their query, eliminating the plethora of options presented via text-based search. Content marketers will have to start adapting their strategies to focus on this new way of searching if they hope to compete in an increasingly voice-driven landscape.

From a commerce perspective, connected devices also put greater pressure on retailers to reduce friction in the path to purchase. The more consumers shop via conversational commerce, the more they will become accustomed to expect machines to do the work of sorting, sifting, and selecting products for them based on their specifications.

Video Is Essential

By now most brands are aware that the state of digital marketing is something of a content arms race. Creating quality content is absolutely essential in order to succeed in digital, but churning out the same content is almost as bad as doing nothing at all. The truth is that a multimedia approach to content is necessary if a brand’s content is going to stand out from the competition. Videos are a core element of that multimedia strategy.

Time spent viewing videos on digital devices is growing every year, and is projected to be 1:22 per day on average in 2018 (eMarketer). For younger generations, digital video viewership is the norm, with 90% of millennials watching digital videos at least once per month. A handful of social feature launches — Facebook Live and Instagram Stories — in the past year have helped hasten a proliferation of video content.

All of this signals a demand for quality video content and an increased opportunity for video advertising. In fact, eMarketer estimates that video ad spending will reach $15.2 billion in 2018 — an increase of roughly 16.5% from 2017. In 2018 many brands will be looking for opportunities both to create more engaging and authentic video content and to incorporate video as part of their advertising strategies.

Augmented Reality Is On The Rise

Augmented reality became a hot topic with the runaway success of Pokémon GO, which launched in summer 2016. The technology and its applications are far from frivolous though, even if they are often entertaining. The rapid mobile adoption of the past decade has paved the way to making AR accessible to a majority of the population, and that puts brands in the position of taking advantage of AR to connect with consumers in new ways.

2017 saw the launch of a handful of high-profile AR projects and collaborations. In September Swedish homewares giant, IKEA, launched IKEA Place. IKEA Place is an AR app built on Apple’s ARKit, a framework that allows developers to build augmented reality apps for iPhone and iPad. With IKEA Place consumers can see how furniture and home decor will look in their home by selecting a product and holding up their phone to their surroundings.

Apple’s ARKit and Google’s ARcore are making it easier for developers to bring augmented reality apps to the market. This will lead to an increase in the number of AR apps available and encourage user experimentation with the technology. In 2018 brands should be looking for opportunities to use AR to improve customer experience in meaningful ways.

Personalization Is Key

Personalization is not a new trend by any means. It’s been mentioned as a dominant digital marketing trend for several years now. And it’s no wonder why — according to survey data published by eMarketer, between 36% of marketers say personalization gives them a 1-10% sales lift, and 30% say they’ve seen lift between 10-20%.

Despite the fact that personalization is the word out of every marketer’s lips, and that the evidence supports its positive impacts on sales, the majority of brands have yet to nail their personalization strategy, or even begin devising one in some cases. According to eMarketer, only 6% of marketers claim that their personalization initiatives are “advanced”, versus 56% who say theirs are “in process”, 28% who are just starting out, and 10% who are doing nothing at all.

Personalization has already become the norm for most consumers, even if brands haven’t totally caught up. Spotify creates music playlists based on each consumers listening behavior on the platform. Google uses our past searches to predict what we’ll want to know next. Netflix crunches viewing data to give us options in hyper-specific genres it already knows we like, greatly reducing the burden of searching and helping ensure users can reach the content they’ll enjoy.

In other words, today’s digital users are accustomed to personalized experiences, and they are beginning to demand them from the brands they shop and do business with.

Takeaways

This time of year there’s always tremendous hype about what’s next for the industry, and we can certainly expect exciting things in 2018. While brands shouldn’t necessarily go out and invest in these technologies and changes all at once, it’s important to stay on top of industry predictions if in order to avoid getting left behind by the competition. New trends present opportunities for forward-thinking companies to get ahead of the curve.

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sherlocklexa · 7 years

Text

Easy DIY Wooden Arrow Wall Decor Tutorial

We are so excited to show you guys how to create a wooden arrow tutorial for the perfect home decor. Not sure if it's because it is so simple yet adorable or if it is because that means we are finally wrapping up our little guy's nursery with the final touches.

We've been hard at work for the past month and with only a few weeks left to go, we are on crunch time to get the final pieces hung. Thanks to our little man Greyson…he has been such a good helper from getting his old clothes unpacked to rediscovering his old books and toys.

So let's get to it!

How to Make Easy Decorative Wooden Arrows by Morgan from construction2style

First step to making anything is making sure you have all of your materials on hand.

Materials

Wood

Right Angle

Wood Stain

Old Rag

Miter Saw

Pencil

Tape Measure

Wood Glue

Building Instructions

Next you'll determine how large or small you want your arrows. You can really use anything for materials here, from scrap wood to 1×4 to top notch reclaimed wood. It really just depends how much you want to spend and the look your going for. For us, we had some extra materials laying around on our shop floor that we used.

As soon as you find your material, depending on how many arrows you want cut all the pieces to the same length. We wanted 3 arrows, so we cut 6 boards- each board measuring 1 foot. We measured from one end one foot in and marked it. We then used our right angle to draw a line at a 45 degree angle from the mark. On the mark is where we cut our angle.

Once you have your spots marked off, put your boards on your miter saw and make your cuts.

Once you've cut your angles on the one end you'll want to cut your angles on the opposite sides with the same angle and the same direction. Here's an example of the wrong direction of a cut, like I did at first. haha! Unless of course you like it that way!

Once you've made your cuts, it's time to paint and stain. There are so many fun options out there on ways to create fun arrows but for our little guys nursery we were just looking for something super simple that went with the forest green nature theme, so we used Rustoleum's Carathane Wood Stain. We also did a few fun one's in their blue bleach stains which turned out really fun too!

Once dry, place some wood glue onto each ends and adhere together with the opposite board.

And there you have it! You just made your arrows. These super simple arrow's make for the perfect home decor. And best part, they don't even look DIY. Last step is to determine where you're going to hang your beauties. We hope our little guy loves them as much as we do in his new nursery. And we can't wait to bring him home to his new space.

More easy wall decor ideas:

IKEA Hack Wall Planter

Wall-Mount Chalkboard Organizer

60 budget friendly large wall art ideas

The post Easy DIY Wooden Arrow Wall Decor Tutorial appeared first on Remodelaholic.

from car2 http://ift.tt/2sRiaL2 via as shown a lot

#car2

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chocdono · 7 years

Text

Easy DIY Wooden Arrow Wall Decor Tutorial

So let's get to it!

How to Make Easy Decorative Wooden Arrows by Morgan from construction2style

First step to making anything is making sure you have all of your materials on hand.

Materials

Wood

Right Angle

Wood Stain

Old Rag

Miter Saw

Pencil

Tape Measure

Wood Glue

Building Instructions

Once you have your spots marked off, put your boards on your miter saw and make your cuts.

Once dry, place some wood glue onto each ends and adhere together with the opposite board.

More easy wall decor ideas:

IKEA Hack Wall Planter

Wall-Mount Chalkboard Organizer

60 budget friendly large wall art ideas

The post Easy DIY Wooden Arrow Wall Decor Tutorial appeared first on Remodelaholic.

from mix1 http://ift.tt/2sRiaL2 via with this info

#mix1

0 notes