#worlds largest knife store

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Random bird facts! (Mostly about birds from my country cause that's all I really know but they're really weird birds here so you get some neat facts!) . My country's airforce mascot is the Kiwi bird. A very well known, FLIGHTLESS bird. Which I will never not find funny. . When we were trying (and failing) to do a flag design referendum, one of the actual flags proposed was a clip art and ms paint rendition of a Kiwi bird with laser beams being shot out of its eyes. Sadly, that option did not make it to the final voting stage. But it got close. . Kiwi birds lay a single egg that is roughly about 2/3rds of its total body mass. The thing is MASSIVE for it's size! How it doesn't kill the bird is still a mystery. . Kiwi bird feathers are very similar to fur, they have WHISKERS, they take up the same evolutionary niche of most rodents, and their nostrils are at the tip of their beak rather than the base like most other birds. The point of the nostrils being there is to help them sniff out little grubs and fruits in the leaf litter on the forest floor, but it also has proven useful during floods as they will simply flip their beak up like a snorkle and bob their way to dry ground. They're not great at swimming but they are great at floating. . Kiwi birds are nocturnal and watching them play on trail cams and nightvision cams is incredibly entertaining, they are so goofy, highly recommend. . Most of my country's birds are flightless as the islands they live on were mostly predator free until the introduction of humans. Due to the isolation, they all ended up evolving to take up a lot of evolutionary niches that would normally be filled by other animals. We have birds that are very similar to rodents and we used to have bird that took up the grazing/hunting niche that looked like massive ostriches called Moas, they most likely hunted smaller birds and grazed on ferns and grasses, and the only thing that dared to hunt them before humans was a giant fuck off eagle that was known as the largest eagle in earth's history called the Haast eagle. Sadly they both went extinct but we still have viable dna stored in labs so....could possibly bring them back? Maybe? Not sure if that's a good idea as they probably wouldn't do well with humans.

. We have the world's only alpine parrot! The Kea! They're our equivalent to crows as they are just as intelligent, but like if a crow had a knife and knew how to use it cause Keas have massive beaks and no fear of humans and have been recorded tearing open CARS to get inside because they saw something they wanted. Tourists are often told to NOT feed the Keas and keep all shiny objects and food hidden in the trunk of the car so the Keas won't see it through the windshield because they CAN and WILL destroy your car/purse/vehicle/bags/etc... to get what they want. They are not actively malicious btw, they're just like toddlers with inhuman strength and no sense of boundaries. They're very curious and playful, again they're very similar to crows and ravens, and they love playing in the snow! . We also have Kaka's, the Keas slightly more shy and better behaved cousin. Only slightly though. I got bit by one who saw I hid a bag of chips in my backpack and it landed on me to try and undo the sipper on it so I wrapped my arms around the bag to hold it shut and it literally looked at me and slowly pinched my arm with it's beak while staring at me like "open the bag, OPEN THE BAG! I want treats!!! How dare!" Didn't break skin but still, little guy was basically threatening to eat me if I didn't give my chips.

. Kakapo are our super endangered flightless parrots that look like fuzzy green melons I swear. There's been attempts to try and get them repopulated but unfortunately, unlike the Kea and Kaka, Kakapo are very....stupid when it comes to reproducing and I will not say more.

. We have giant fucking pigeons called Kereru and they are notoriously bad at flying to the point there are warning signs on roads near where they live that warn drivers of them potentially falling out of the sky.

. The majority of our birds are named after Pokemon naming conventions! As in Pokemon are named after the sound they make, and our birds are too! If you listen to their songs or the sounds they make (such as with the Kereru, it's mostly quiet but it has a whistle feather that makes a sound when it flies which is the sound it's named for) they sound very similar to their names! I think it's cool!

. We have burrowing penguins.

OH THESE ARE WONDERFUL!

I actually knew quite a bit about the Kiwi bird because I did a presentation on them in middle school for some reason (we all had to pick an animal and I was a weird kid I guess) but I love the bird facts :D thank you!

#asks

[precambrianhottopic]

Fires of the North

CHAPTER 1: FELL BOUND

First ✦ Previous ✦ Next

The newspapers began reporting on the construction of the great refinery long before even the switchblade-quick men of almighty business could swoop down like vultures from penthouses and corner offices and tear the land apart. No, when news broke on the front page of the Borean Dawn- OIL FIELDS FOUND IN FROZEN NORTH- what would go on to be the most contested piece of land in the Arctic Circle was still just snow and ice, one hundred miles from the nearest major civilization. And yet, the moment those hunters struck oil, journalists hacked out stories and printing presses churned out copy after copy hailing the construction of the most magnificent new oil refinery in the world, a veritable palace of industry, the vital turning point that would finally bring Hyperborea to the world’s attention, under the assumption that the magnate with the sharpest teeth would have broken ground before they could get another issue out. 

This is not what would eventually become of the oil field.

There would be no palace of industry, no global eyes on long-overlooked Hyperborea, and no winner to the rat race that would go on to stain the snowfields for the next several years. Seventy-four starry-eyed men and women from every place conceivable, surnames from every dialect and tongue, would set out northward with teams of shovel-wielding laborers and vast pools of gold at their command. By the end of the first winter, only three would remain.

To understand the depth and depravity of the events that would play out there, one must first understand the depth and depravity of Hyperborea herself. None can match her beauty, and none can match her wrath. Poets wax and dream of her frozen shores, of rivers cutting through endless glittering fields of snow, of secrets untouched by time within the beating heart of shining glaciers- and yet the reality of fair Hyperborea, the Frozen North, Hell on Ice, Glacale, the Last Rise before the Abyss, is a cold and cruel one. The country, and the vanishingly few brave souls who live in it, seem balanced on a knife-edge. Every death and birth, every successful hunt, every chunk of coal burnt to ashes, every grain taken from food stores in the unfathomable depths of winter, is kept in perfect, metered record. Because the truth of a land like Hyperborea, so much further North than anyone should have gone, is that it will snatch everything that is good and warm from you, force its frostbitten fingers into every crack in your plans, your shelter, your safety, and tear it from you like freeze-thaw through a boulder, and leave you, hypothermic and broken, upon the burning snow. There are nights that last days. There are blizzards that last months. There are villages that disappear into the snow and are never seen again.

Perhaps this provides some clarity, then, as to why so many were gripped with such an acute madness when the news broke- perhaps this elucidates even further why so few of them would live or remain to see it through. For whichever upstart could reach out and grab it first, there was liquid gold beneath the ice- the question remained, however, if he could still hold onto it as the impossible North began to eat away at everything he held dear.

They came, in desperate masses, to the city of Fell. Fell was not the largest city in Hyperborea, it was not the most important, and it was not the capital- but it was further northward, pressing deeper into the ever-darkening cold, than any other city in the world. The blistering, maddening hostility of Fell cannot be understated. She stood teetering on the edge of the world, in stark defiance of her limits, a monument to both the deep hubris and undying determination of her people. A wrought-iron giant, magnificent and blazing, clinging to the white tundra like a stubborn grease stain; Fell was a young city, aching for industry, half a million people thronging through her streets, fighting against the elements. Smog pours from chimneys, forges run hot deep beneath the city, and fires blaze all along the streets, keeping intransient Fell smoldering, staving off the great freeze, sealing cracks as the ice splinters through them, just barely grasping her existence from the jaws of the North. 

Through the center of Fell, along the high streets where black facades rise stories-high, a river cuts the city in two. This is the Corione, a paradoxical beast flowing inland from the Ocean, which joins with the Stoll and the Sea to the West, and races screaming up from the South, where the waters are calm and blue and beautiful, through jungle, woodland, plains, and steppe, before tumbling over the cliffs into the tundra and slicing through Fell like a jack-knife. Its frigid waters arrive bearing gifts- dead fish, ships with metal faces, and news of warmer lands. Three dozen miles to the North, the Corione reaches its terminus, an impossibly deep and desolate lake. Within the walls and streets of Fell, it is bludgeoned by the streets into the rough shape of a canal, and is constantly at war with itself in much the same way that Fell is constantly at war with Hyperborea. The casualties of this war are the shattered ice sheets it carries with it; as each one crystallizes, it is rent asunder by the ceaseless currents, or the ice-breaking boats, or the streetlamps and hearths burning alongside it. The waters of the South, against the cold of the North, against the fires of the city- the Corione can never rest. The city of Fell can never rest.

And so, in droves, up the Corione and the Stoll and along the vast frozen plains, the big-city oil magnates, sleazy news-hawks, and leaden-shovel laborers came to Fell. The truly inconceivable seclusion of the promised bounty must be emphasized here- Fell, by all accounts is an incredibly remote city. The next major hub is almost two hundred miles to the South; some say her sheer septentrionality is bordering on blasphemous. And yet, any man hoping to sink his talons into the treasure trove waiting out there in the snow would have to journey one hundred miles deeper into perilous Hyperborea, into the far reaches of the world where lakes hide beneath kilometers of ice and your breath freezes in your lungs. 

This nightmare did not trouble the minds of the fools in their boats and chariots as they pressed Northward, the promise of oil money so lucrative and all-consuming it struck any inkling of concern or forethought from their minds. No, there would be no time for consideration, no time to pause and think how quickly and thoroughly Hyperborea was going to flay the cashmere greatcoats and fine lambskin gloves from their flesh- only gold glistens behind the eyelids of the wealthy businessman as thundering black stallions carry him upward, to the wonderland of infinite profit and shining snow that he dreams of.  At the end of the road or the river, icy damnation waits hungrily for him with open arms. 

There was oil, and soon there would be blood.

#plush.txt #my writing #thraeposting #fantasy #fires of the north #LOOK I DID A DIVIDER AND EVERYTHING ARENT I FANCY!!!! #read my thing pleaseeeee im really proud of it and there WILL be more

[taiyo-to-tetsuu]

gloomcore artist flowchart:

worlds largest knife store

Flowchart for one of my favorite gloomcore artists

#gloomcore #slowcore #webcore #internetcore #bummer #diy music #doomer #emo music #richmond #virginia #richmond va #ambient #sadcore #sadgirl #sadboy #Folk emo #Emo folk #acoustic music #drone music #memorycore #dreamcore #manic pixie dream girl #emo #midwest emo #worlds largest knife store #nostaligiacore #corecore #boy problems

[grox]

I got a candle from the world largest knife store in tennesse that smells like fruit loops and its the best thing ever I swear

[shop-cailey]

FREE - DOWNLOAD - SCREEN - CAPTURE

LIGHT SHOT - THE - BEST - SO - SORRY - 2

TOOK - MORE - THAN - 5 MIN - 2 - GET - A

FULL - SCREEN - BUT - AWFUL

MY - TOKYO - MALE - SCIENTISTS - WILL

MAKE - OUR - WORLD - MUCH - BETTER

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS,

KOREAN - AGE 21 MALE - STABBED - A

TOTAL - STRANGER - KOREAN - GIRL &

AGE 21 - AT - TRAIN - STATION - B4 SHE

TOOK - TRAIN

SOLUTION

MILITARY - SMALL - BOOTS

FLIES - US - ALSO - PULSE OF - MURDER

PULSE - OF - THEFT - PULSE - OF - TRUE

VIOLENCE - PULSE - OF - HATRED - OF

WOMEN - THAT - WOULD - EVAPORATE

HIM - ALREADY - BUT - WHAT - IF - HE

WAS - PRETENDING - HE - LIKES GIRLS

KOREAN - HOMO - MALES - WHO - KISS

MALES - TIK TOK

JUSTIN LUZARES

BRITISH - CHISMOSA

GIRL - GOSSIP - CHECKED - TIK TOK

ACCOUNT - LATEST - WAS - HIM AS

PHILIPPINES - CELEBRATION - OF

CORONAVIRUS

STABBINGS - OF - PINAYS - WHO

WERE - ABOUT - 2 - SHOP

MANDALUYONG - MALL

WORLD's - TOP - LARGEST MALLS

PINOY - STABBED - 2 - DEATH

ON - CHRISTMAS - DAY

PINAY - MOM - AND - DAUGHTER

STABBING - BY - PINOYS

MANILA - WHERE - JUSTIN - WAS

BORN - PARANAQUE - N - SPAIN 2

IMELDA - STABBED - BY - RUSTED

KNIFE - BY - MALE - PINOY

MALE - PINOY - STABBED - THE

THROAT - OF - PINAY - GIRL FOR

SHE - COULD - HAVE - BEEN YES

A - DULCE - SINGER - ALWAYS

SINGING - STABBED - ON THE

THROAT - SO - BRIT - GOSSIP

MARITES - AS - REGULAR

JUSTIN LUZARES

ABOUT - 2 - KISS - A PINOY

THE - NEW - PHILIPPINES

DISCONTINUING - HIM

HOMOS - GO - 2 - SHEOL

GOD - SAID - IN - HIS WORD

MALES - STRONGEST - STRONGER

THAN - FEMALES - MALES - KISS'G

EACH - OTHER - BOTH - STRONG

TOGETHER - IN - THEIR - HOUSES

NEW - PHILIPPINES

BAKLAS - KISSING - EACH - OTHER

IN - PUBLIC - MARRYING - IN - LAS

VEGAS - NEVADA - WHERE - GAYS

CAN - MARRY - LEGALLY - IN - USA

UNITED STATES

GAYS - LEGALLY - MARRYING

LESBIANS - LEGALLY - WED 2

BUT - THEY'RE - NOT - ALLOWED

2 - KISS - NEW - MANILA

BAKLA - GAYS - KISSING

PHILIPPINE - REPUBLIC

TAX - CRIME - SMOKE - FREE

GIRLS - MARRY - BOYS

AGE 16 - AND - OLDER

MAKATI

MINDORO - ISLAND

AS - WE - SEPARATE - FROM

MANILA - SODOM - AND - GOMORAH 2

AS - WE - 'BUZZ LIGHTYEAR'

CLEAR - COVERING - OUR - CITIES AND

ISLAND - NO - ONE - CAN - ENTER - TOO

WORLDWIDE

MAKATI - VILLAGES

KOREAN - VILLAGES

LEGAL - PERMIT

MOANA - VILLAGES

TE FITI - NICE - GREEN - DISPLAY HUGE

WE - SEPARATE - FR - GAY - MEN

GOD - SAID -

MURDERERS - FEARFUL - ROBBERS

LIARS - HOMOS - LESBIANS - COWARDS

AND - MORE - GO - 2 - SHEOUL UNSEEN

REALM - LAKE - OF - FIRE - & - SULPHUR

WHERE - SATAN - AND - HIS - ANGELS

HIS - DEMONIC - SPIRITS - NOW - WILL

GO - 2 - AFTER - A - CERTAIN - TIME

THEN - LATER - PERMANENTLY TOO

PEOPLE - WHO - WANT - 2 - JOIN

THEM - WILL - 4 - SHEOL - WAS

MADE - 4 - THOSE - EVIL SPIRITS

TIK TOK - BUSINESS

BECAME - 2 - ME - K POP - GIRLS

THEIR - BEAUTIES - AS THEY YES

DANCE - LIKE - DEAF - GIRLS

DANCING - THE - BEST - DEAF

LANGUAGE - 4 - ME THE DEAF

THEIR - MUSIC - AS - THE YES

WORDS - ARE - DANCED - HIP

HOP - PERFECT - 4 - THE DEAF

WE'RE - CHANGING - DEAF

LANGUAGE - AND - KOREA

K POP - MADE - THE - PERFECT

DANCES - 4 - DEAF - BOYS AND

GIRLS - SO - WONDERFUL 4 ME

ADDED - AGAIN - 2 - PERSONAL

CHROME - ACCOUNT - ADD - 2

CHROME - STICKY - NOTES

BUT - GIANT - EDITION - GREAT

4 - MY - EYES - PARTIAL - BLIND

STICKY - NOTES - BACK UP - PAGES

4 - PAID - PLAN - SO - WILL - USE XO

LIGHT - SHOT - 2 - STORE - WHAT ME

TYPED - BECAUSE - IMPORTANT

EVENTS - PASSWORDS - ACCOUNTS

WHEN - PRESSED - 4 - TIME - WILL

DO - THAT - NOW - COMING - BACK

TYPE - AT - GOOGLE - SEARCH

THEMES - 4 - CHROME

CHROME THEMES . com

I - THINK - EASY - 2 - FIND THEM

LOVE - MY - NEW - BUSINESS

CHROME - THEME - PINK - BLUE

HEARTS - AND - FLOWERS - NICE

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"MOTHER KEPT FIVE ON SIX DOLLARS A WEEK," Toronto Star. November 11, 1913. Page 5. ---- Now Eldest Boy Is Working and Contributes All His Salary to the Home. ---- THE FARM FOR A YEAR ---- Bill wasn't out that night; Joe had gone to night school, and Bob was having his music lesson - at least he had gone to get it. The remaining three boys had been playing an innocent and tidy game of tag, keeping strictly in the middle of the road and avoiding the man's lawn with great care. But some one had thrown bricks at his door, rubbed rags in the dirt of the road and thrown them on his verandah, played ring-around-a-rosy with the sentimental little maple trying to sprout on his front lawn, and generally made his life a Welsh rarebit nightmare. By careful manipulation of the boys' evidence, peppered here and there by mothers in the rear, the two brick-throwers were singled out.

"I suppose it is a little bit of spite all round," suggested the commissioner.

"No, sir," returned the largest mother emphatically. "It was spite on his part, but there was no spite on the boys' part at all. He turned the hose on them once, but they wouldn't hurt his old lawn for anything."

"I see," grinned the commissioner. "Well, I'll make it a fine of $1 and suspend it on condition that you keep on your own side of the street and don't go near his lawn."

Chased Them With Knife. Peter walked into court with a dazed red face. One eye has become sightless and the other was swollen until it almost closed. They let him out of jail on Saturday, where he had been sent for 60 days, to become a teetotaler, but somehow the cure had failed. Sunday he spent between the always-procurable whiskey bottle and chasing his eldest son round the house with a knife. His frantic wife called in the help of the court officers, and he has been brought in on the charge of contributing to make his five children juvenile delinquents by reason of his constant drunkeness.

"Why in the world didn't they examine him before they let him come out of the jail?" asked the commissioner.

Her Frenzied Finance. Peter sat sobbing intermittently as his wife told the court of the frenzied finance she had to use to support her five children on a salary of $6 a week. Later, however, it has been supplemented by the hard won $5 brought in weekly by the oldest boy. The heroism of these little fellows, bruised numb by early troubles. as they silently pass over all the result of a week's work to mother, sometimes receiving five cents to attend a nickel show as their share of the proceeds, is something for the court observers to marvel at. Very rarely the steam valve bursts and a desperate small chap is found pilfering in the big stores or breaking into some house with the front door open.

Having ascertained that Peter's wife could manage better when not being chased with pokers and knives, even by foregoing Peter's salary, he has been committed to his chance in the Prison Farm for one year.

#toronto #police court #juvenile delinquency #youth in revolt #youth in the toils #vandalism #contributing to juvenile delinquency #drunk and disorderly #non-support #deadbeat dad #sentenced to prison #central prison #toronto jail farm #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #fines and costs

[ajoytobeheld]

Pointless activity numero 10

May 7th, 2009

A new favorite activity of mine involves taking a old news story and trying to turn it into a Hollywood pitch. It’s pointless and harmless and is much like making things out of tin foil along to Blue Peter but then trying to eat the tin foil just to see what it feels like…Feels weird just in case you wondered.

Anyway here is my latest (and first) effort in a game I like to call “pointless activity number 8″ or “Hollywoodizing the news”

Firstly a Synopsis of The News Story: On the 21st of March 2009 Google’s “Street View” went online in the UK, this technology allowed people to take a 360 degree tour of 25 city’s from the comfort of their computer, however some images were removed for invading privacy laws including one showing a man coming out of a sex shop in Soho.

The Hollywood Pitch:

A one syllabled sexy yet scruffy man is on the run for his life, unwillingly partnered with his glasses clad sexy photographer ex girlfriend. One syllable has unwittingly found himself involved in a global computer conspiracy, which threatens to destroy the world….unless he can figure out how to put a stop to it. Its one man against “The Man’s” unquestionable thirst for consumerism in a world full of pain.

Brad/Buck/Ben is a sad mess of a man who eats noodles from a bin whilst playing World of Warcraft/Day of The Tentacle. He was recently fired from the world’s largest Internet server Noogle after he found their new product City View too unsavoury for his ethical code. He is a man with morals who is potential sexy. His best friend still works for them but the day after City View is launched he is brutally murdered and our hero is framed for the crime! 

The night before the brutal murder our hero was on the Noogle site and happened to noticed this odd looking guy coming out of his apartment building with a really big knife and a balaclava but he didn’t think much of it at the time but now…. it all makes sense. He tells the cops (Ed Burns with a wig) about the picture, but they don’t believe him, luckily he sent it to his sexy photographer ex girlfriend to check out (Kate Hudson in glasses.) However when she agrees to help him they both start getting framed! Bank cards bounce! There photos are in convenience stores! He has to cut his hair and have a shave! Oh he is sexy. 

They find the knife man, but he is dead!

The audience by this point will be like “NO WAY!”

Then the police turn up and although they escape Buddy tells Ed Burn’s he is so innocent. He doesn’t shoot him when he has the chance (it’s not like the fugitive, they can’t sue, the dead man has a knife not one arm, plus Ford owes me a favour). This makes whigful Ed Burns begin to think there is something fishy going on, and he starts investigating Noogle, and discovers it was invading privacy laws with City View…. 

Anyway our two hero’s end up finding out more info (someone approaches them in a diner whose wife was molested by Noogle and he wants to spill,) which leads them to the final showdown with Noogle’s boss.

He confesses everything, saying how they had to kill Ben’s friend because he was going to tell everyone about how City View was being used by the mafia/bank/ Richard Bacon/devil.

As the Noogle boss who is the guy who plays the farmer in Babe tells them his plan from behind his big office chair the police turn up, and the boss tells Ed Burns to shoot the guy, but Brad/sexy bespectled slut have e already put it up on twitter. Luckily Ed Burns is a follower of there’s, and he tells the evil boss that the game is up. He gets a shot in at Brad, but is shot by Burns first and falls out of the huge glass window of his office toppling 800 floors, shouting out “nooo!!!!!”/ “WHHHYYYY!!” or “That’ll do piggggg!!!”  as he plunges to his death. Brad lives and Burns and the girlfriend gather around his hospital bedside, and they made some joke, and then maybe the credits should have a song by The Fray.

 Sample dialogue from script:

“You have not been the same since she left.”

“I’m just an innocent man in a crazy mixed up world”

“I never stopped loving you, I just stopped loving what you had become.”

 Suggested Film Names

The City View of Death

Bad Technology

The Butterfly

Budget will be 500 million

Ellen x 

#2009 #ellen!blog #lc!blog

[that-fema-corps-blog]

Day 242

April 1, 2023

We visited Siesta Key today, which is considered to have some of the nicest beaches in the mainland USA.

Unlike beaches elsewhere that are made up mostly of pulverized coral, Siesta Beach’s sand is 99% quartz, most of which comes from the Appalachian Mountains. Over time the feldspar and mica have been removed from the rock, leaving almost pure quartz. Even on the hottest days, the sand is so reflective that it feels cool underfoot. According to Harvard University geologists, it’s estimated that the sand on Siesta Beach and Crescent Beach on Siesta Key is millions of years old, having its origin in the Appalachians and flowing down the rivers from the mountains until it eventually was deposited on the shores of Siesta Key.

We stayed at the beach for a while, and I walked a mile down the coast to look for birds. I saw dozens of gulls (mainly laughing and ring-billed) and terns (royal, plus a couple sandwich and one Caspian), a few ruddy turnstones, and over 100 sanderlings. Watching the sanderlings run back and forth along the shoreline to dodge the waves is pretty entertaining.

I spotted a black skimmer flying overhead as we were getting ready to leave. These tern-like birds have a longer bottom bill, which they dip into the water to “skim” fish off the surface. They have the odd habit of resting by lying their entire head and bodies flat on the ground. They also have cat-like eyes with a vertical pupil, which is unique among birds. Very strange animals overall.

I found a couple sand dollars and an assortment of shells on the walk back. We stopped to look in some shops on the returning drive, then got meals from the grocery store. I spent the rest of the day playing video games.

#fema corps #round 3 #florida #birding #sightseeing

[melodiiesxfmadness]

( au verse: world's end - dystopia/apocalyptic. )

— — — — ☣ DAYS SINCE LAST EVENT: unknown ☣

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? Truthfully? No one really knows. Blame is getting pointed everywhere all while no one is accepting the claim of the virus outbreak, so everyone and anyone is paranoid.

— WHERE THE STORY BEGINS: Lourdes was called back into military service three months after the outbreak started to crop up on the east coast of the United States. Upon re-entering the Marine Corps, she was promoted in rank and her unit was deployed with a heavily armed convoy to safely transport US Diplomat's to Camp David when the convoy was ambushed by people wanting extra supplies and then those people were overrun by the infected, along with the diplomats ( and their families ) and she was the only survivor of her unit. Passing out from the adrenaline rush, Lourdes woke up a few days later by herself in a fortified hardware store with a few guns, two or three months worth of extra ammo, a machete, and a rucksack.

— SAFE ZONES: Areas that have been fortified by groups or individuals after being cleared of the undead so that those wandering in need of rest / somewhere to stay can be safe.

Iris Island – Somewhere off the coast of North Carolina ( permission granted by sloane madison-pierce )

Goodspeed Opera House in East Haddam, Connecticut | was moved onto an anchored floating raft & only accessible by a rope bridge. The survivors calling this safe zone home leave part of the bridge in the water until they can determine that you aren't being followed / chased.

Perryton, Texas | moreso near the border of Oklahoma. This safe zone doesn't trade often with outsiders but if they do? You'll end up running for them to get supplies til the leader decides to release you. They have UV lights ( lamps, flashlights ) here to scare off the infected.

Sisters, Oregon | From a population 2,100 down to 650 when the outbreak hit. Survivor's in this safe zone steal from other towns, ambushes convoys & murder outsiders. They also have one of the largest trading posts in the country, no one knows where the other is.

— TYPES OF INFECTED: Aside from the standard type of zombie that will chase you down, there are special types of infected roaming around that are worse than the rest.

Spitter

Screamer

Night Hunter

full name: Lourdes Cecilia Rasmussen nickname(s): Lour, Des, Deź, Cece, C.C., Cilia, Mussen. date of birth: January 10th 1981 place of birth: Petoskey, Michigan zodiac sign ( west ): Capricorn ( Element: Earth | Color: Brown, Black | Ruler: Saturn | Quality: Cardinal )

Strengths: Responsible, disciplined, self-control, good managers.

Weaknesses: Know-it-all, unforgiving, condescending, expecting the worst

zodiac sign ( east ): Metal Rooster former occupations: bounty hunter | recalled into military service, Staff sergeant of the Marines Corps current location: undetermined species: human gender: female orientation: heterosexual gray romantic status: highly selective ( multi ship. ) height & weight: 5'9" & 134 pounds hair & eyes: Light Brown & Hazel fight training: kung fu, tae kwon do, karate, Thai boxing, jujitsu and judo, plus bayonet and knife-fighting techniques.

piercing(s): both ears & her right eyebrow.

tattoos:

MCMLXXXI ( 1981 in roman numerals ); left forearm.

psalm 23; left tricep

sergeant chevrons; right bicep

education: Petoskey High School, class of 1999 ( Summa cum laude in Spanish, French, Mathematics & Science. ) medical: Aerophobia is an extreme fear of flying in an airplane. ( particularly taking off & landing – always had to be sedated half a valium during flights for deployment. ) languages: English, Spanish, French, Greek, Russian, Mandarin, Arabic, Farsi, Pashto, ASL, Swahili/Kiswahili, Dutch, & German. extra: senior girl scout ( grade 10 | sophomore ), girl's track team ( all four years – long distance runner ) parents: Ixchel ( commonly referred to Chel ) Felicitas née Aguilar ( mother, deceased ), Erling Hilmar Rasmussen ( father, deceased ) siblings: Bridgett Cathryn ( born May 1984; accountant ), Imogene Jillian ( born October 1987; pediatric nurse – neé Rasmussen, married in 2012 to Lyle Domenic Knight ) weaponry: ( added: 09/14/2022 ) Atchisson Assault Shotgun ( + ammo ), Ithaca 37 ( 20 gauge, + ammo ), Kel-Tec KSG ( + ammo ), Beretta Px4 Storm ( + ammo & two extra magazines ) & Heckler & Koch VP9 ( + ammo. ) // the machete is her main weapon however, consistently strapped to her back & remains sheathed unless needed. additional arsenal: machete. — pocket subverses: Agent of The Institute ( fallout 4 ), Agent of the GRE ( dying light ), Sentinel of the Brotherhood Of Steel ( fallout 4 ). — species: human, greywalker.

added, 10/18/2022 headcanons: ☣: Fairhope, Alabama has three types of additional "special" infected - demolishers, howlers,& sleepers. ( sleepers tended to be hunched over and looked like they were sleeping - make fast movement, loud noises, or getting too close in proximity and they WILL wake up. | Demolisher. | Howler. ) ☣: most stores were overrun in regards to regular clothing, so a lot of survivors ditched "regular" undergarments in exchange for swimwear. ☣: Lourdes has a leftover charcoal grill in her safe house ( in Fairhope ), along with a pot for boiling water that she collects in left behind plastic gas jugs. ( She will put the swimsuits in the boiling water for a few minutes and then let them dry over the shower rod in the bathroom. ) ☣: Demolishers show up just after sunset and drop off a Screamer in one spot, before shuffling off to another location to put Howlers down. It is safer to stay inside or remain completely unseen if you're out past sunset! ☣: All of the Northeast, along with three states in the southeast ( West Virginia, Virginia & District Of Columbia ) experience winter – heavy snowfalls & lots of ice due to no one being around to clear it away. Most, if not all survivors use the snow to boil down for drinking water. ☣: Salt water doesn't freeze over - please be mindful of the banks of any harbor area. Irradiated sea creatures ( otherwise known as Mirelurks ) dwell there. Their nests are easily spotted by the dinosaur sized eggs in the ground, and they will attack if you approach the nest / they spot you in the open. Their approach is easy to detect – the scuttling can be heard on the ice. ☣: Weather is VERY unpredictable – obviously. Rain can happen for a month straight, sometimes longer – or it can be that way with the heat. "Mild" seasons like spring and autumn last only a week or two in between the rainy season and the hot season. The south doesn't get snow, that's more up north – but it will be as cold as a desert in the south no matter the "season" during the night. ☣: Some national parks are still overrun with infected – mostly Glacier, Zion & Death Valley – the others aren't as overrun but there are plenty of decomposing bodies / rotting bodies still around. Because maintenance of the parks completely stopped, trails and buildings have become overgrown by plant life and some animal life as well. ☣: Pregnancy/having babies is at a steady decline; that's no surprise. One would think because now there's no mass produced protection - the numbers would be growing. Definitely not the case while in the middle of an apocalypse; food shortages / proper nutrition, proper medical care, clothing, not to mention the undead around almost every corner. A fair number of women who have survived the outbreak have figured out that mother nature has decided to take its course -- allowing animal life to reproduce but let human kind take a back seat for now. ( Most mother's do not survive childbirth now, and sometimes the babies don't either. )

added; October 20th, 2022 — York, Nebraska ! – population, 3k. — This safe zone is a HAVEN for those who have nowhere else to turn. No ulterior motives here, everyone helps everyone out. A twelve foot tall fence surrounds what remains of York University, guard towers having walkways attached to them that go six feet out to patrol at night — with UV lights dangling under each walkway. All manner of infected roam the streets here – including spitters, screamers, demolishers, feral ghouls, howlers, night hunters, and whatever else irradiated beasts roam freely. By choice — men and women live separate from each other, as they interact plenty throughout the little community these survivors share. ( however, just because they live separately doesn't mean anything stops them from being intimate – many know of couples who sneak off to the abandoned clock tower at the far end of the old campus or some of the old classrooms. ) Weapons are allowed here but only used outside the walls of the safe zone. Disputes are handled by fighting — unless it's two older citizens, they are usually given duties that will keep them apart if they are too old to fight. Sometimes, citizens end up leaving this safe zone because the fighting doesn't always quell the fighting. With law enforcement and the penal code utterly abolished, weed / cannabis grows legally in York safely. — The weed grown in the York settlement has two classifications; A: half the potency, will still get you high but not make you too high where you can't complete tasks. B: full potency, also laced with remnants of magic mushrooms — leaves users in a high for days sometimes a full week. not suggested or even given to first time users.

#( character bio: lourdes cecilia rasmussen. ) #( additional verses. )

[celebritypiner]

Shun kanso asian utility knife

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Explore More on Doors & Windows 3.1 Classic Chef's 8 (Model DM0706) 3.2 Classic Blonde Santoku 7 (Model DM0702W) 3.3 Higo No-Kami (Model DM5900) 4 Best Place to Buy Shun Knives 5 How sharp KAI Industry's Chef Knife (Seki Magoroku) Feature of Shun Knives Simple, but Elegant and Effective When Chris Reeve Knives releases a new model, nobody gets it faster than we do. Shun's incredibly sharp edges and beauty set them apart from other kitchen knives. Shun knives are some of the best Japanese-made knives. Best Starter Set: Henckels 4-piece Steak Knife Set. Best for Entertaining: Dubost Laguiole Natura Steak Knives, Set of 6. This combines excellently with the razor-sharp edge and center line tip to give you a versatile and capable chef's knife.

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[hikevancouverisland]

Skills for Wilderness Survival May Save Your Life

You don't have to be a participant on the television show "Survivor" to learn how to survive in the wilderness. Our forefathers knew this information instinctively many generations ago, but in today's high-tech society; we have lost connection with nature and forgotten how to meet such fundamental necessities as food, water, and shelter.

But why should we learn how to make a fire without matches or how to find clean water to drink when we have modern conveniences at our disposal? There is an easy solution. Hurricane Katrina serves as a reminder of how rapidly natural disasters can occur and deprive people of the electricity they need to get by through each day. Other natural disasters, such as earthquakes that happen suddenly and tornadoes that can form in a matter of minutes, are even less predictable than hurricanes.

Many specialists think that we are gravely at risk for a worldwide disease pandemic, like the Spanish flu that ravaged populations throughout the globe in the first quarter of the 20th century. It is very likely that an outbreak of the bird flu may put such a strain on local infrastructures as to make it impossible for inhabitants to rely on services like ambulances, hospitals, police, or fire departments, leaving them on their own. Additionally, it is not out of the question that a terrorist assault could result in the destruction of power plants, water reservoirs, or other public infrastructure in today's world of growing unpredictability.

As a result, the prudent person will invest some time in learning how to create a fire, obtain water, construct a shelter, collect food, and prepare meal using only basic tools. Learning this information should be viewed as an exciting opportunity to increase one's independence rather than a monotonous task. These skills may also prove to be more beneficial than insurance in the event of a catastrophe.

Some of the best sources for acquiring outdoor survival skills are the books by Tom Brown Jr. Mr. Brown was taught tracking and hunting by an Apache elder when he was a young boy. He later founded a survival school and wrote classic works like "Tom Brown's Field Guide to Wilderness Survival," which amply demonstrates numerous ways to start a fire without matches, build wilderness shelters out of only natural materials, identify edible plants, and hunt wild animals for food.

For a little investment, it is possible to quickly assemble a pocket-sized wilderness survival kit that contains a small knife, compass, matches, fishing hooks and line, and possibly a thin, metallic "space blanket." A visit to practically any sporting goods or camping supply store will be time well spent if you should unintentionally find yourself in a survival situation. But knowing how to survive in the outdoors is more important than possessing the correct tools. This is because your mental attitude—rather than your technology—is your largest edge in a crisis. Someone with the necessary skills and knowledge may live far more comfortably without a lot of survival gear, as opposed to having a lot of equipment but not knowing how to use it.

If you are chosen to compete on the reality TV series "Survivor," you might use your wilderness survival abilities to win a million dollars even if you never find yourself in a situation where they are required.

 You can build the confidence to manage the majority of wilderness survival situations by hiking Vancouver Island. Learn a variety of basic outdoor skills over the course of two days, including how to construct (and spend the night in) a shelter with only the bare necessities.

Hike Vancouver Island is a terrific team of guiding specialists who gave you Island Alpine Guides, Vancouver Island’s best alpine guiding outfit. Based in Cumberland, British Columbia, they provide exceptional experiences and education that meets the highest international standards by focusing on the community. The team of expert guides and instructors are all certified by the Association of Canadian Mountain Guides, so you can be assured you are in good hands.

#map and compass course #wilderness skills courses

[adultfamilyhomesworld]

Mens Neckties: Fashionable Symptoms Around Our Necks

You are about to open up your coffee house business. Although since you are not as it's a lucrative one who is the owner of a company doing this inside your place, a person better think about something which would help your business outperform from the rest. You will need to put a new sign which would successfully draw the customers' attention towards your freshly built business. That way, people might understandthat there is definitely an innovative coffee go shopping in the area. Nevertheless this type of organization isn't a new comer to individuals, they would still be curious of how your product would tastes from the additional coffee in will probably have. The colours, in the order that had been holding discovered, are blue (mercury), white (CO2), yellow metal (helium), red (neon) and after that phosphor-coated hoses create chats involving the colours. Phosphors are accessible in a lot of pastel colouring materials. In case you located in a busy highway or even thoroughfare, look outside the house and check out each of the lots of potential clients you may possibly. You have to be able to act smart and grab these folks to be able to be to your current store and portion their own cash. Are usually already standing right outside; all it has is several coaxing to get these people to step on the inside. neon signs are available to purchase on-line. Factor about online stores is the player offer huge collections about this image and can discover the symbol to get excellent with the business. May choose through eye -catching and colorful luminous symbols in which undoubtedly give spark for business. Times Square and The Las Vegas Strip are Numerous neon showcases. Consist of neon signages Tokyo does have its Ginza in addition to Shibuya. Osaka features Du Bon bun, which will be the world's largest shopping avenue that provided the inspiration for Knife Runner. There's also Nanjinj Road in Shanghai and Soi Western style in Bangkok(which was named after a great American who opened up a go-go pub there within the 1970's). There a multitude of fluorescents ad signs that businesses can buy. That they can choose to be able to advertise their shop name or logo in neon stands out. But there happen to be a few necessary neon signage that industry establishment ought to have. These are the wide open signs, restroom symptoms and thank a person, come again spots. Are that you lover among the 1950s become old? Customize an indication that says, Malts and Shakes, Rock Close to the Clock, or even simply, Customer. Desire to make an enjoyment child's playroom? Produce a sign featuring your child's favorite animal or even cartoon character. These indications will contribute considerably to the theme among the room, and when they will not go out of type. Different hues are created imagined possible . mixed fumes and elements to some neon lighting. An enterprise sign outside the store could also be a way of advertisement. You will be on the point of open the bistro business.

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[autotransportcity]

Are You Open Or Closed?

Are you in need of some meals supplies? Perhaps, are you looking to obtain a place to get a bite? Many people have trouble seeking for an in order to buy food or eat at because institution signs don't offer clear clues of their specialties. An easy method to get people to your own specialty is to have them glancing at your bright and inviting food neon symptoms.

There could have been lots of passing by your business street on an every day basis. They could are already potential customers but they are basically clueless whether most likely open or therefore they never stop by. Potential customers who are in a hurry or perhaps within their cars do not have the luxury energy to be able to watch out for your published open signs. They will just move past your business in addition to look for the next one that obviously stands absent. Imagine just how many customers an individual has lost the actual obscure written signs. What is really a commercial fluorescents sign valued at? Gowns really hard condition expertise. However, when referring to prices collectors might pay all of them there are some statistics available that present what possess purchased highly-prized illuminated signs. In fact, within June of 06\, for just a memorabilia great deals a Thunderbird Lodge illuminated sign sold for $26, 1000., while one who stated Cloud 9 sold for $21, 275., and the legend part of a Holiday Inn sign proceeded to go for $3, 220. Builders what individuals are willing to pay intended for collectible neon signs. Prices for industry kind vary according to size and also other aspects. You also modify icon if you want to. Online dealers will provide you some choices such currently being the typeface style and alternative of of greater. Usually, you can immediately contact producer and set a meeting and so you can talk into the glass bender regarding the symbol that knowing. You can accept the draft of icon that you developed so the bender can work on this task. Any kind of form of business may use neon signs with regard to the signage. Achievable purchase the sign from online stores or perhaps from nearby dealers nearby. Most among the signs on offer are : all set on this so inside moment you need to this with your hands, 100 % possible set inside the sign as well as plug that in the wall socket to find out the indication glows brightly inside instantaneously. Tax Neon Signs are very helpful in advertising the business. Its glowing effect can immediately capture the efforts for this people completing by. These people would give few instances to stare at the glowing sign and ultimately find out there what ought to just about all in relation to. Times Rectangle and The Vegas Strip are Numerous neon showcases. Some other neon signages Tokyo does have its Ginza plus Shibuya. Osaka provides Du Bon bun, which could be the world's largest shopping streets that provided the inspiration for Knife Runner. There's also Nanjinj Road in Shanghai in china and Soi Rancher in Bangkok(which had been named after an Usa who opened a go-go bar generally there in the 1970's). Having ones that will let dip unique artistic styles will give you a sense of private accomplishment. Besides, the ads signage in order to one-of-a-kind and they're going to be noticeable more than the other folks. This really is important regarding it's not a person understands how successful these units can stay in luring consumers. Your competitors and other stores globe region likewise be using fluorescents signage to draw clients towards them. Along with your custom-made signs, it's a warranty your business receives noticed by individuals from the streets. Bear in mind it may take up to half an hour when first flipped in order to fully become lit. The glass-tube contains neon gas, argon and mercury. Both neon and LED signs have long-lasting effects about the viewers.

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[insomniac-dot-ink]

Hey! A new wlw short story is up on my Patreon. Check it out! And please consider becoming a Patron for more wlw writing and more. As a struggling artist anything helps.

Here’s a free preview:

Headlights Girl

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the land, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they shrank away from my gaze deep into their cages into the nooks and crannies. Most things do.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness and sleep. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There have been stranger kids born in the age of spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for small articles and mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy with fire on his breath. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father calls it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He doesn’t look at me much. And I know what he means. I know what he means when he calls it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. They could barely afford to send me to That School. I didn’t want to be there either.

We weren’t the same, not really. None of us are the same age and most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons under flat mattresses. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or have a pig-nose or blackhole for a nose. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he runs away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I’m 16 when I heel-toe my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with a collection of loose clothes, change, a bath towel, sewing kit, a bible written in a language I don’t speak, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he’s at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at Target and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There’s a beer in front of his idle hands and he glances at the bag on my shoulder.

He sighs like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafs through a wad of cash he kept in a safe in the garage. He hands me almost three hundred bucks and we nod at each other. I’m out the door before the midnight bus arrives.

I watch the headlights of the bus approach through dense summer night and think it must be like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I get on the bus and kick my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, I cross my arms over my chest, and watch the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet move like tides. They toss me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I taste the painted deserts toward the west. I dip my toes into the largest cities with lights brighter than my own. I graze my palms on neon signs and hunch my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touches me. They don’t come close enough when I open my eyes and they see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that will smite them.

I find my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gather. I don’t talk much, I don’t like to, and people stare at me whether I’m speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it aches. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’ve never seen a movie in any theatres, but I can imagine what it’s like.

I like the ocean cities best with their pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding white paths, and crushed seashell parking lots. I like the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkles from the ocean water as it sun-dries. I camp out on beaches and bum cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I’m good at taking care of myself once I get in a rhythm.

Sometimes, or often, I dream of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dream of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I am weighted down through the cold to where no human has ever been before. I open my eyes there, I open them all the way, lightning-bright, and in my dreams, the salt doesn’t sting. It doesn’t hurt, instead, I light up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I do something good then. Maybe I do something good and bring the sun to places that have forgotten it.

I meet Mags on the beach. She’s got one eye and five teeth and carries around string and scissors everywhere. She smells like seawater and roasting kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes are neat despite her leather-cracked skin and her arms and neck are covered with tattoos of shipwrecks. She cackles and pulls me aside the first night we meet.

“What’s your name?” Her voice is old creaking wood. I am quiet. “I could give you one.” She offers with a grin that is more empty space than anything.

I shake my head. “Nana.”

“What do you like, kid?”

I shake my head again.

Mags likes me more than I deserve. I pocket her last pair of socks when she’s not looking. She never mentions it and drags me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She takes me to the soup restaurant for something that isn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackles, she spits when she talks, people glare at her as well.

I think she’s normal, not touched by the spirits, but she likes me more than most people and I don’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snort. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snap.

“Lippy-wild thing. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heats the needle before she uses it, red hot and untouchable. She dips it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she calls them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin with color and movement. She shows me on her right foot first, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It takes her six hours to make a little shipwreck right above her big toe. It’s a schooner going under and I’m the only witness to the way she makes the waves come to life and crash against its sides. I can’t look away and I forget to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washes another needle. She heats it red-hot. She dips it in ink and hands it to me.

I practice all over my thighs first, there’s enough meat there and it’s easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looks like nothing but squiggles, a wobbly stick figure on a skateboard, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practice designs in the sand. Mags takes me to the museum on Sundays. They’re free on Sundays.

Something stirs in my chest, even as the guards yell at me about how flash photography isn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I’m shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rots roars to life in my chest.

I stab in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake next, and then finally, something good, something that gives people a reason to stare. I make it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than the others.

I don’t want to leave the ocean city. Mags says she has to keep moving though. She gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackles. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winks as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I want to make her pinky-promise like I’m a kid again and begging one of the other kids to tell me if I’m actually beautiful when I close my eyes. I can’t do that; I wave as she totters up the steps of the bus and is taken away with the tides of her own feet. ------------ I get an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked to them first and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but coach surfing and camping out on beaches is a tiring pastime. Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie run a tattoo shop together. Davies walks like he’s never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie has a throw-pillow that says “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies is nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie has topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’s been asked to leave a number of stores before the children start staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me, it’s not that type of town. I rankle at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. I brush off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie calls me “Shadow” and I think it’s a joke. Davies says I must be possessed by the ghost of a dead star and now I’m nothing but a blackhole: take everything in and let nothing out.

Neither of them lets me touch a needle in those first six months. They have me practice on pig skin and stand by their shoulder as they work. I feel like a dental assistant except I’m the hanging light above shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stand at their shoulder as they draw thick lines and thin dots and make hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They ask me to stop blinking and stand still. I almost walk out and find a new cliff to crash against, almost. No one had ever expected me to show up to something before. No one cared if I went to school or when I got home. And no one kept any tabs on me after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, it didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow.” She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I am eloquent in the morning.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want the desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

I grumble. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before. I tell myself I’ll just try it out, no harm in having a bit of a savings anyway. No harm in seeing what the fuss was about.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with my eyes. I don’t let up though. I put on pants for this, after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder now.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, he had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me now as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “The line’s barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” He chuckled darkly. His grin is crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.

“Look at you go. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun before the new year. I tell myself I’ll only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I don’t have to actually stay. I’ll just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chases after girls with eyes that glow.

I don’t break my lease. I draw cartoon heroes in speedos on tipsy college girls who swear they’re sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I have to give two refunds for a duck that turns out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with nothing but doors ahead of her. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I’m best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It’s dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hide my smile when she goes to my bosses and points at it while jumping up and down. The best thing she’s ever seen. She should pay us double. Where did you get this girl? I try not to blink so they can’t see the wetness under my eyes.

Sometimes I still stand by the bus stop to check who’s coming off. I don’t expect to see Mags again so soon, but sometimes I want to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

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[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Inevitable

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (不可抗力) which has not been released in English servers!🍒

This R&S features S2 Gavin!

It is incredibly important to read Ch 9 Part One before embarking on this!

[ Chapter One ]

At midnight, a young man makes a turn at a secluded alley, walking into a small hotel that’s still open for business.

He walks around the main hall, and straight into the innermost booth. The sound of shuffling in the night is continuous, and the dealer holds a cigarette in his mouth, drawing a card.

A hand suddenly approaches, and the muzzle of a gun covers his temple.

"How long will it take for you to finish this round?" Gavin’s voice is calm, fingers exerting more pressure on the trigger.

The others are so frightened that they rush out. With no way out, the man suddenly whips out a knife and swings it at Gavin. Gavin grabs his wrist, the other hand reaching for the handcuffs.

All of a sudden, a voice rings in his head: Don’t get hurt, and don't ignore the consequences. If he were to do this, it seems someone would be very sad. He doesn’t seem to want to make that person sad either.

In that second of distraction, the knife glinting with a cold light in the man’s hand slices the area between Gavin’s thumb and index finger. The thoughts in his mind accumulate amidst the pain. Gavin gathers some strength in his palm, a raging gale rolling up the battered tables and chairs. The man’s gaze turns frightened...

-

Three minutes later, the man, who was puffed up with pride earlier, is firmly handcuffed and kneeling on the ground, begging for mercy.

Gavin pushes the person out of the booth, and the colleague responsible for providing assistance steps forward, escorting the person into the police car.

In the main hall, the little girl who was clapping her hands and singing the birthday song earlier has burst into tears, shocked by the sight before her. Her mother comforts her. "Don't be afraid, darling. This is the Special Police Uncle who catches bad men and is here to protect us.

After glancing at him, the little girl cries even more fiercely.

Gavin nods to the girl’s mother apologetically, then walks towards the claw machine at the entrance of the hotel. After a short while, he returns, hugging the largest doll in his arms.

"Happy birthday.”

He hands a huge cartoon doll to the little girl, then turns and walks out the door.

-

An hour of interrogations is enough to leave one exhausted. Tang Chao stretches, holding a tidied statement while heading towards Gavin’s office.

It’s late at night, and the lights are still on. Tang Chao knocks thrice but receives no response. He tries pushing the door open, and is shocked to find that Gavin, who is seated behind the desk, is neither dealing with a case nor official business. Instead, he’s in a daze.

Gavin leans against the chair, his gaze fixed on the computer screen for a long time, brows furrowed deeply. Tang Chao walks over and glances at the screen - it’s a report regarding the arrest of the producer from [MC’s Company Name] not too long ago. He reaches out, waving his hand in front of Gavin. He asks, "How many fingers?”

When Gavin glares back coldly, Tang Chao feels relieved. However, seeing the scab wound on his hand, he’s confused again - what could be so important that he’d forget to tend to his wound?

He places the tidied statement on the table, then drags Gavin to the infirmary. "Even a body forged in iron can’t be compared to you.”

Fortunately, the wound isn’t deep, and can be healed in a few days. But Tang Chao’s intuition tells him that Gavin is a little different from usual. This time, the offender wasn’t considered dangerous, and could be easily subdued by Gavin’s skills. How did he get hurt this easily?

Before Tang Chao can ask a few more questions, Gavin has already vanished without a trace.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

At four o'clock in the morning, the clerk at the 24-hour convenience store yawns, overcome with boredom as he stares at the TV commercial on the wall to pass the time. A cheerful electronic sound rings. The automatic doors slide open, and a young man walks in. 

The clerk perks himself up, and is about to say "Welcome" when he realises that the customer in front of him looks very familiar.

This man lives in an apartment in the vicinity, and visits this convenience store frequently. Sometimes, he drives past in a smart-looking motorcycle. When someone tries to hit on him occasionally, he always rejects them coldly. It’s a pity that whenever he visits, he either buys instant noodles or instant bento... looks like it’s the same this time.

When the clerk sees him heading towards the convenience food shelf, he sighs in his heart: Young people these days don’t take care of their health at all.

Gavin leans down, his gaze flitting across the neatly arranged food on the shelf, absentmindedly differentiating the expiration dates marked on the packets. 

Shiitake mushroom flavoured instant noodles aren’t tasty. The stray cats at the entrance of STF prefer meat, not anchovies. Don’t get hurt, don’t get mired in danger alone, don’t leave without saying a word.

Such thoughts once again surge forth. From a certain point in time, many unfamiliar experiences have been intruding into his life. It’s as though he’s sharing another memory, these disordered fragments of memories twisting into a long, thin thread, holding onto his wrist, tugging at him secretly from time to time. 

Gavin returns to his senses, subconsciously drawing back the hand that was reaching for the convenience food, and picks the brand at the side which contains more vegetables.

When checking out, Gavin notices that there are rows of potted succulents next to the cash register. 

"This is a public welfare activity jointly launched by our store and the Loveland City Environmental Protection Association. For every plant sold, we will donate the same amount of funds to the environmental protection charity.”

Seeing how unresponsive the young customer in front of him is, the clerk is tactful as he continues scanning the remaining products, "Nine dollars in total.”

The receipt is printed, and the clerk hands it to him along with the bento. The young man suddenly points at the small potted plant that had just emerged from the soil. 

"Add this too.”

-

Back home, Gavin throws his jacket into the washing machine, sets the time for washing and drying, then heads into the bathroom to take a shower. 

A strong gush of water flows from the shower, and white mist quickly fills the entire space. The stinging pain from the wound sobers him up quite a lot, and he subconsciously thinks: The wound should be tended to quickly, and “she” can’t know about it.

Realising what he’s thinking, Gavin is once again stunned-

Who’s “she”?

And why is he so concerned about how that person feels?

Stepping out of the bathroom, the washing machine makes a "ding" sound. Gavin wipes his head and walks over to take a look, only to realise that he had put bleach instead of laundry detergent. He stares at the washing machine in silence for a while, then reaches out to unplug the power, retrieving the ruined jacket.

After all of this, Gavin suddenly remembers the small potted plant he just bought. The clerk said that if it is placed in a location with sufficient sunlight, there would be new shoots in a week, and that it’s very easy to grow. 

Gavin places it on the balcony, then picks up the phone and begins to search "How many times must succulents be watered in a day". Whether it’s a mere illusion, that sense of deja vu once again surfaces.

"What in the world am I doing...?" He mutters to himself, tossing his phone aside a little irritatedly. He returns to the bedroom, lying on the bed and closing his eyes, waiting for sleep. 

In the depths of this autumn night that no one knows about, the rain outside the window patters against the leaves gently, and there is a very, very light stirring in his heart.

Gavin opens his eyes, looking at the ceiling which is illuminated by car lights. Suddenly, an unnamed emotion surges in his heart - he feels that the memories he has never been able to grasp weren’t “forgotten”. Rather, they are “losses” which render him powerless.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

On a rare, idle weekend, Tang Chao calls a group of friends from the STF together for hotpot. Right after ordering the hotpot base, Lu Yi’s conscience suddenly bugs him, and he asks if he should call Captain Gavin over. 

Thinking about how rarely Gavin gets to rest and how he definitely wouldn’t be willing to see this group of people, Tang Chao knowingly shakes his head. However, his mouth has a different idea. “I’ll call him then.”

On the other side, a few special police officers are comforting Xiao Zheng from the Publicity Department who was hurt emotionally. Xiao Zheng fell out of love last week, and has been feeling extremely fragile and sensitive these few days. Hearing the bitter love songs in the shop, his eyes immediately redden.

Tang Chao taps open his contacts list, silently recalling the odd behaviour of Gavin recently. He isn’t interested in being a busybody, but his instincts tell him that Gavin has something on his mind, and it’s a change obviously brought about by that girl’s appearance. But whenever Tang Chao wants to inquire about it, the words get halted by Gavin’s killer glare. 

Thinking about this, Tang Chao glances at Xiao Zheng sympathetically, and comes to a definite conclusion - if Captain Gavin were to continually suppress his emotions without releasing them, it’d result in an illness.

Tang Chao asks the waiter to serve two dozen beers, then dials Gavin’s phone.

"Good evening Captain Gavin. Have you eaten?" 

"I don’t mean to annoy you, but Captain Eli invited us to have butter hotpot. You coming? 

"Don't be in such a hurry to refuse. I’ve got something to talk to you about. Yes, it’s happening right now... it’s of utmost urgency.” Tang Chao shoots a grin towards an astonished Eli. Then, he continues fabricating a tale. "I don’t want to run laps. There’s a genuine matter.

Half an hour later, Gavin frowns as he walks into the hotpot restaurant. Seeing this, a few young special police officers immediately set down their chopsticks and stand up straight in a row. The only thing they haven’t done is to salute at Gavin. 

Tang Chao grins, asking the waiter to bring an additional pair of tableware over. “Captain Gavin, you’re here.” 

Gavin glances at Tang Chao and says in a cool voice, "What’s the urgent matter?"

“Xiao Zheng fell out love, so he asked you over to console him with us.”

“...”

Xiao Zheng frantically waves his hands in surprise, stammering a retort. Tang Chao pushes him back onto his seat and signals for him not to speak. 

"Don't be sad, the chances of people ending up together is always unpredictable." Tang Chao pats Xiao Zheng on the shoulder. "Besides, who doesn’t have someone in their heart? Don’t you agree, Captain Gavin?" 

These words are akin to a sudden clap of thunder on a calm sea. Xiao Zheng immediately forgets to cry. Eli immediately straights up, and the others hurriedly set down their chopsticks, whipping their heads over to look at Gavin like meerkats.

Gavin remains expressionless, though the hissing sound emanating from his body is even cooler than the ice cubes in the beer.

Since they’re in public, Tang Chao knows that it wouldn’t be convenient for Gavin to give him a beating. As such, he’s incredibly composed, and continues with his questions without a fear of death. “Captain Gavin, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Why do you think this has anything to do with her?”

“I already saw the photograph back in the training days. Is she the lady from before when you roared “Tang Chao, put your hands away”?

[Note] These are references to R&S [Tempering] and Ch 2 Part One!

"...Tang Chao!”

“I'm here, I'm here." Tang Chao fills Gavin’s glass with beer. "Captain Gavin, I actually realised that you haven't been in the best state recently, but you don't like speaking your mind. I’m showing my concern." 

“It’s said that you speak the truth after drinking, and today’s beer should be enough. Whatever you want to say, whatever’s suppressed in your heart, just release them all happily. Right, Captain Eli?”

After three rounds of drinking, Tang Chao fails to get Gavin drunk, but ends up drinking too much himself. Once again, he complains about Gavin's "Death Training" back in the days of special training. In the end, Gavin foots the bill. 

Eli steps forward and pats him on the shoulder, saying, "Did something happen recently?" Gavin shakes his head in resignation. "You really believed him? His mouth is like a runaway train.”

Eli looks at Gavin and sighs. "I know you don’t need anyone to worry about you.”

"But that kid Tang Chao said one thing right. If one keeps suppressing their feelings, they’ll be suppressing problems.”

-

[ Chapter Four ]

On the way back, Gavin sees withered leaves on the branches along the street, and only then remembers the small succulent he had bought not long ago. 

Back home, the potted plant on the balcony shrinks alone in the corner. Originally thinking that the plant he had left “free range” for so many days would meet a premature end, it turned out to be alive despite having a few withered leaves. Gavin finds this a little unbelievable, and he becomes more meticulous in watering it.

-

The next morning, Tang Chao opens the door to Gavin’s office and apologises solemnly. "Captain Gavin, I'm sorry. I promise that I’ll never inquire about your personal life in the future, let alone make arbitrary conjectures about your feelings.”

Without looking up at Tang Chao, Gavin only tosses out a sentence. "Before next Monday, re-check all the case data in the Archive Room.”

The Archive Room is on the third basement floor. The dust is very dense and the materials are very thick. Tang Chao wails immediately, leaving dejectedly.

Gavin picks up the document Tang Chao had just placed on his desk. It is a sealed report for the seizure of "small syringe" production plants, which records in detail the batches and output of pharmaceutical companies which participated in the production.

Reaching the final part of the report, Gavin is silent for a moment. At the end of the report, there is a line of small characters - "Ten boxes of drug samples are suspected to have gone missing." 

Without putting much thought into it, a face with a beaming smile locks onto his mind.

“...I won't investigate you this time." He sighs, putting the report back into the drawer. 

After ferreting the mole out of STF, Gray Rhino seems to have erased all traces of the "small syringes". But Gavin knows they wouldn’t withdraw easily from competing for "CORE" - naturally, neither will Black Swan.

Gavin is clear that the current peace will not last for long. Before the girl stands against him on the opposite side, what he has to do is be one step ahead, obtaining more crucial information as soon as possible.

The phone beeps, notifying him of a new e-mail. Gavin is pulled back from his thoughts, and his eyes fall on the unknown email that popped up.

"Congratulations on your successful registration in the Hunter Game" - the sender’s address is encrypted, and there is no doubt that no information can found.

Gavin's thoughts gradually settle. His hands are clasped lightly on the table, his gaze falling on the words "Hunter Game", his gaze turning sharp and determined. 

That place definitely has something they’re looking for.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

In the STF Intensive Care Unit, a dripping sound accompanies the plastic tube. Gavin sleeps very peacefully, and he feels like he had a lot of dreams in his dazed state. They aren’t nightmares which wake him up with a start, but dreams which make him willing to remain asleep.

However, it seems he can only remember the final dream from the long series of dreams. When he’s roused awake by the sound of footsteps in the corridor, what lingers before his eyes is a blurry yet familiar face. Gavin sits up on the hospital bed, the pain from the no-longer-effective anaesthesia making him more awake. 

Despite not telling Tang Chao and Eli about his participation in the Hunter Game, they aren’t suspicious. They’ve grown accustomed to Gavin’s aloof nature, and as such, assumed that he went on a secret mission.

During his absence over the past few days, there was a new development in the Evolver assassination incident - a new victim has appeared. 

Gavin is very clear that if the cases were to be allowed to ferment, the higher-ups from “that side” would intervene in the matter. They have to take immediate action.  

“There’s one more tricky thing." Tang Chao sits at the edge of his desk. "For the latest assassination case, we encountered a witness with a special situation. We might have to ask an Evolver who can read memories for help."

Tang Chao blinks and asks, "But I don't know any Evolvers with this ability. Do you know any, Captain Gavin?”

-

According to theory, aside from work purposes, they should be keeping a distance from each other. But according to the girl, the reason why they’ve come out for an idle stroll is, for one, to relax. Two, to search for inspiration to solve the case.

The lead from the only witness to the Evolver assassination was cut short. Gavin isn’t affected much, since he knows that this matter isn’t simple. In contrast, the girl is especially bothered by it, and feels apologetic for not being able to help. 

On the bustling street in the afternoon, Gavin returns to his senses, taking the oden which the girl hands over with a smile. 

When walking by her side, Gavin realises that he’s barely thinking about the things that are bothering him. He naturally picks up her conversation topics, as if they had wandered aimlessly on the street side by side before. 

Does she feel the same way? In his heart, Gavin shakes his head in self-mockery, wanting to forget these thoughts which confuse him.

Walking out of the food street, rain patters down. The pedestrians on the street crowd together suddenly, rushing towards the station. Gavin holds up an umbrella, planning to send her back. 

The yellow wintersweet flowers exude a subtle fragrance in the rain. The smell, colour, and the scent of the person next to him seem to be magnified, forming a memory of the present moment. 

Perhaps, even before he noticed it himself, while he has been deliberately neglecting the complex emotions in his heart, they have been also been growing in a place where he cannot see. When she calls his name, when she accidentally touches his hand, it’s as though some things from a very long time ago are coming back to life in his mind--

Someone had once called his name using such a tone.

Someone had once held his hand in this way.

Someone... was once his strength.

The emotions which he conceals deeply, whether they are good or bad, were once held gently. 

A scorching wave of heat suddenly rushes into his chest.

The traffic lights change, and the crowd waiting at the side of the street slowly surge towards the middle of the road. The surrounding pedestrians squeeze past each other, bumping into his shoulder from time to time. 

Gavin lifts his head abruptly, watching the side profile of the girl as she’s in the rain. It’s as though there’s an intriguing overlap. It’s as though a very long time ago, his heart had leapt this fiercely for her.

The girl suddenly turns around, looking in his direction and waving at him. Putting away her umbrella, she points to a mother-daughter duo hiding from the rain underneath the bus stop. She asks for his opinion through her gaze. Without much thought, Gavin removes his jacket, brisk walking towards her in the rain.

Raindrops patter down, and the water beneath his feet leave splashes in their wake. Akin to rain, they land on his body. It’s as though he gets slightly more drenched with each step. At this moment, Gavin realises that on days when memories are muddied, he has grasped a thin thread since a long time ago.

The jacket supports a narrow world, and wind and rain occasionally blow in. 

If their reunion was meant to verify their directions, no matter what the future holds, what he has to do now is to run forward with her, together.

[Note] Please don’t ask me about the Hunter Game! I haven’t had the chance to read the earlier chapters in detail so I don’t know the specifics 😅

💙 More S2 content: here

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[redpandaramblings]

Laundry Day. Sero x F!reader

Content warning- Mature humor, Mineta mention, sexual situations, heavy petting.

 “Come on!  It would be so much fun!”  Mina was bouncing on her heels, practically vibrating with excited energy as she tried to convince the group to go along with her scheme.

“So let me get this right.” Bakugo sighed.  “You want to do this fucking thrift store scronging thing for Christmas?”

“Yep!”  Mina said.  “Let’s be real, none of us have a lot of money this year, and this will be a way to have a lot of fun on a budget!  It’s simple.  Everyone finds the weirdest or most inappropriate thing they can buy for five bucks or less, and then we have a white elephant party on Christmas Eve!”

“White Elephant?” Kirishima asks, tilting his head.

Kaminari nods, jumping in.  “Yeah man!  Means people take turns picking gifts out of a pile.  Or they have the chance to steal a gift someone else already opened.  Basically, don’t go picking stuff thinking it will go to a specific person.”

“Is this going to be just us?  Or are we inviting everyone?  Because I live in curious fear of whatever Mineta would manage to dig up.”  You asked from where you were lounging.

Mina blanched while Denki cackled in delight.

“Oh god, we have to invite everyone now!  Imagine Midoria’s face!  Imagine Iida’s!”

“It’s settled!  Party at Bakubro’s!” Kiri cheered.

“Oi shitty hair! Don’t fucking invite everyone over to my place!”

“But you make the best curry!  Please?  For your bestest friends in the whole wide world?”

“Fuck no!”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”  Kiri pleaded.

“NO!”

Kirishima looked around the squad, communicating silently as everyone nodded.  As a collective force, you all turned your best puppy eyes at Bakugo.  He squirmed, firmly trying to look away from all of you.  You all started fake whimpering and whining.  You knew you had won when Katsuki’s lips briefly twitched into a smile.

“Alright!  Alright!  Now stop it, you fucking extras!”

“Three cheers for Bakubro!” Sero exclaimed.

The weeks flew by and before you knew it, the party was upon you.  Katsuki had grumbled and bitched the whole time, and yet now was gazing with pride at the absolute spread he had spent the last two days cooking.  Everyone had showed up, had gorged themselves, and were now in the process of opening presents.  There had been a couple weird mugs, a lamp made out of a deer leg, and Iida had had the misfortune of opening the gift Mineta had brought.  Everyone stared in horrified awe at the three foot long, hot pink dildo.

“Are those teeth marks on it?”

“Yep, teeth marks.”

“Mineta, where the hell did you find this thing?”

“I swear I got it at a thrift store!  The price tag is still on the base, look!”

“Yep.  That’s a price tag.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“I wanna bite it.”

“Y/N!  NO!”

There was a lot of laughter and teasing as the evening continued, gifts continuing to be claimed or stolen at a slow pace.  Just about everyone after Iida had tried to steal ownership of the horror dong as it had been nicknamed.  Denki had just stolen it from you, so you had to pick a new gift.  You pointed toward a box that was rather conspicuously wrapped entirely in tape.

“Okay, someone toss me whatever the hell Sero got.”

The black haired man gave a little fist pump as he snagged the box, walking over to sit next to you as he handed the box over.  He casually pressed against your side and slung an arm around your shoulders.  “Amiga, I’m honored!  You’re going to love it!”

“Yeah, I’m going to love it if I can ever get into it.”  You began the process of slowly unwrapping the absurd amount of tape.  “Seriously, anybody got a knife?”

A chorus of “no”s replied, no one actually bothering to look for one.

You gave a dramatic groan.  “You’re all awful and I hate each and every one of you.”

Hanta gasped and placed a hand over his heart.  “Even me, Querida?”

“Especially you, you office supply elbowed freak.”  You replied, sticking your tongue out at him even as you snuggled more comfortably into his side.

After a couple more minutes of dramatic whining and tape unwrapping, you finally got the box open, only to reveal the gaudiest t-shirt you had ever seen.  It was a nauseating shade of Pepto Bismol pink.  There was glitter.  And oh god, what the thing said.  You started cackling.  You held it up for everyone to see, discovering as you did so that this had to be the largest shirt you had seen in your life.

“Ooo, nice one Hanta, that’s really awful!”

“Someone steal this from me, please!”

“No way, Y/N!  It’s the perfect addition to your wardrobe!”

“Hermosa! I’m wounded you would get rid of my gift right after opening it.”

“Look at this thing!  Fatgum would swim in it!”

You made a show of grumbling, but you stowed the shirt back in its box and enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friends.  When you got home quite late that evening, you shoved the box into the back of your closet and didn’t think about it again until almost a year later.

~~~

Today had been the day from hell.  You muttered curses to yourself as you stomped down the hallway to your apartment.  Work had been harder than usual, the kind of day that made you grateful to make the long commute back home.  So of course today would be the day that the subway would be taken over by a villain who had a sludge quirk.  Asshole had flooded the cars with the thick, foul smelling, viscous ooze that reminded you of things unmentionable.  You and the other passengers had had to scramble to make sure no one ended up in over their head.  Lucky everyone had been saved.  Unluckily you and many others, you had spent the better part of two hours standing shoulder deep in the muck.  It was in your hair.  It had soaked your clothes.  It was in your underwear.  And the icing on the cake was of course it was your friends and neighbors who had rescued you.  Of course your crush had seen you when you looked like you had taken up competitive septic tank diving.  

It took you three tries before your key actually got in the lock.  You shuffled into your apartment and straight for the bathroom.  Grimacing as you peeled your clothing off, you unceremoniously chucked everything into the hamper before stepping into the shower and turning the water as hot as it would go.  You stayed in the shower for over an hour scrubbing and rescrubbing every inch of you.  With great reluctance, you eventually stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel.  You lazily dried yourself off as you walked into the bedroom, intent on putting on pajamas and pretending you didn’t exist for the next several hours.  

You opened your underwear drawer only to be filled with a deep sense of dread.  Empty.  Your pajama drawer? One pair of extreme booty shorts that say “creepy” on the butt.  Your t-shirt drawer?  Empty.  Your closet?  Empty.  Frustrated tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as you realized that the shorts were the only clean item of clothing in your apartment.  You had been meaning to do laundry for a while, but you hadn’t realized that it had gotten this bad.  As much as you hated to, you were going to have to do your laundry tonight.  You put the shorts in and  looked through your closet again, desperate enough to find a sheet to try and fashion into a toga when you spotted a rather bedraggled tape covered box.  You hadn’t thought about your ridiculous white elephant gift in several months, but now?  Well, it technically was a shirt.  It certainly would cover you better than an improvised sheet toga.  Before you could think twice about it, you opened the box, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.

The shirt swam on you, going past your butt.  The color was bad, and you winced at the image on the front.  But, you were now decent enough to venture down to the building’s shared laundry room.  So, after grabbing your hamper, detergent, and quarter jar; you did just that.

You hummed the Mission Impossible theme to yourself as you descended the stairwell to the ground floor.  Most of your friends lived on this level, but chances were they were fast asleep at this time of night.  You were glad of that as you hurried along.  You really didn’t want to run into anyone wearing your current getup.  It took several minutes to sort your laundry into a few machines and get everything started.  You were leaning against the last machine in the line, debating going back to your place or just staying here when you heard something that made you freeze.  Upbeat whistling that was growing closer each second.  You knew that whistle You did not want to see the owner of that whistle right now.  You had already been embarrassed in front of crush today, you really didn’t need him showing up for round two.  You were debating how quickly you could scramble into a dryer to hide when Sero Hanta entered the room.  

He briefly glanced your way.  “Hey Y/N!  I figured I might see you here.  I’ll admit I’ve seen some shit, and that was gross even by my standards.  I wanted to ask how you were doing.  Make sure you weren’t injured or any…”. He trailed off when he finally registered what exactly you were wearing.  His grin turned positively feral as he set his own laundry bag to the side.

“My, my, my.”  Sero gave a rumbling chuckle.  “Whatever do we have here?”  Sero’s eyes could sweep up and down your body.  His signature grin grew wider as his gaze lingered on your t-shirt clad chest.  

You crossed your arms, attempting to hide the gigantic image of a lime green, glittery, prancing unicorn proclaiming “I’m horny!”  What were the odds that someone else would be washing their clothes at two in the morning?  Apparently changes were pretty damn high, you thought as you leveled a half hearted glare at your friend and neighbor.  

“It’s laundry day, Hanta, don’t read into it.”

“But Hermosa!  How can I not?  The first time I see mi corazón wearing the gift I so painstakingly chose for her?”  He waggled his eyebrows as his trademark teasing grin spread over his face.

You blushed, turning your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“You’re full of crap, Cellophane.  It’s been a really shitty day, and this was literally my only thing to wear.”

Sero nodded and hummed, turning to put his own laundry in the machines.  “Si, si.  It was a rather difficult time, it looked like.  And you okay though?  Not injured?  I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you after the fight was over.”

You groaned, tilting your head back and covering your face with your hands. “I’m afraid I got a nasty case of extreme embarrassment and took a heavy blow to my pride.  Of course you fuckers had to be the heros on duty for that whole debacle.”

Hanta looks at you seriously as shoves disorganized armfuls of laundry into the nearest machine.  “I’d rather it be me saving you than anybody else, Querida.”

You let your hands fall to your side with a disgruntled sigh.  “Why?  So you can witness all the embarrassing situations you can blackmail me with?”

“Well now that you mention it, yes.”  Sero dumped an obscene amount of soap into the washer before turning it on.  “However,” he purred in a sinful voice that startled you.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  Squeaking, you inched away from him until the back of your legs were pressed firmly against the cold metal of the washing machine. Hanta leaned over your retreating frame, placing an arm on either side of you, caging you in.  “Querida mia, I want to always be able to make sure you are safe.”

You placed your hands on his chest, halfheartedly trying to shove him away.

“That’s very touching.  Now get out of my personal space.”

 “But Querida,”  Sero murmured, his voice going low and sensual, moving closer until your hips pressed against each other.  “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than your personal space.  Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte...”

With him so close, there was nothing you could do to disguise the shiver that ran through you at his words.  

“Oh?  What’s this?”  Sero said.  His large hands traveled to your hips, his long fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt to tantalizingly stroke your skin.  He leaned forward, voice turning to a growl with his mouth next to your ear.  “Hermosa likes me speaking Español, hmm?”

You bite your lip before giving in and nodding.

“Well, in that case…  Taco supreme!”

The fingers that had been stroking your skin suddenly became deadly, horrible tickle weapons; digging into your sides and moving rapidly.  You shrieked with surprised laughter, thrashing from side to side as you tried to escape.  However, Hanta’s large frame and firm hips kept you pinned against the washing machine as his traitorous fingers continued their assault.  He continues to tease in between his own laughter.  “Nachos grande!  Cinnamon Twists!  Quiero Taco Bell!”

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you wheeze and slap at his chest.  “Stop!  Stop!  You horrible man!”  He gets in a few more tickles before he does stop, wrapping his arms around you, pulling into a tight hug as you both take a few moments to pant and calm your laughter.  He nuzzles your neck before asking softly, “Feel better?”

You nod, just enjoying his warm body wrapped around you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”  Your voice just as soft as his, one of your hands finds its way up to stroke his hair.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Please.”  You whisper softly, tugging at his hair just enough to encourage him to move his head back.  Your lips find each other, cautious and gentle at first.  Then, Hanta nips at your lower lip, and you let your mouth fall open with a whimper.  The kiss is hunger and passion, and heat.  Tongues wrestling, teeth lightly biting and teasing each other as hands roam and grope.  Sero’s hands find the back of your thighs and soon he’s lifting you, setting you down on the edge of the washing machine.  He presses himself between your spread legs, bucking against you, and you can feel his hard length teasing you through your clothes.

“Wanted this so long.  You have no idea how long.  Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.”

“Me too.  Wanted this so long, but didn’t think you felt the same.  Now get back here and kiss me like you mean it!”

He happily complied, his lips fitting over yours as if they had been made to be placed together.  The kisses and touches didn’t stay innocent long, his hands finding your breasts through your shirt, teasing and pulling at your nipples.  One of your hands traveled down to stroke the obvious bulge that was rutting against you.  Between his thrusting and the vibrations of the machine you were sitting on, your shorts were becoming visibly soaked.  His fingers found their way up a leg hole and he moaned sinfully when he found there weren't any undergarments keeping his touch from your soaking folds.  It was your turn to smirk, pulling away from his kisses to whisper in his ear.

“I told you, Darling.  Laundry day.”

“Amore, you’re going to be the death of me.”  He groans, shoving his face into your cleavage as he slips a finger into you.

You laugh breathlessly.  “You better not die on me, Hanta.  What I have in mind will be much less fun if you’re dead.”

“HOLY FUCK!”  Shouted a very recognizable voice from the doorway.  Your groan was not from pleasure as you rested your head on Sero’s shoulder.

“Piss off, Denki.”

“Hanta’s finally getting some honey!  Score man!”

“What’s going on?” Mina’s sleep heavy voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Y/n and Sero are going to Pound Town in the Laundry Room!”

“Denki, en el nombre de Dios, I will kill you if you don’t back out of that doorway and let me finish what I started.”

Bakugo’s voice rang down the hall “No fucking in the goddamn Laundryroom!”

Kiri’s voice soon followed “Take it easy, Tsuki!  They can clean up when they’re done!  Get some guys!  You need condoms?”

Sero sighed deeply, pulling his hand out of your pants as your shoulders shook from silent laughter.  “I think, Hermosa, we can agree no fucking in front of the friend group?”

You nodded, laughing as you jumped down from your washing machine perch. “Not until the third date at least.”

Sero moaned softly, not expecting the way that statement had made his cock twitch.  Acting quickly, he scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  “My room.  Now.”

“Ooo, Caveman Hanta.  Sexy.”

Denki jumped to the side to let Sero pass, calling after you “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

You called back “Well, I’m going to do Hanta, so what does that say about you?”

Sero’s hand came down on your bottom with a firm smack as he continued down the hallway and around the corner, taking you two toward his apartment and out of sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spanish guide- 

Amiga- Friend

Querida- Darling

Hermosa- Beautiful

Querida mia- My darling.

 Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte- If you knew the things that I want to do to you

Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.-  And then today I was so worried about you. When I saw that you were in danger, I wanted to kill that villain and lock you up where you would never be in danger again.

Hey guys!  Pan here, hope you enjoyed it.  It’s been quite a while since I’ve put any of my fanfic out there, so please be gentle with me.  I just used Google translate for the Spanish, so I’m sure some of it is very wrong.  If you have corrections, please feel free to send them my way!  Also, if you see any triggers that need tagging please let me know.  I also accept constructive criticism, and appreciate having spelling and grammar mistakes pointed out.  Also want to take the chance to answer this question ahead of time-

“The fuck is up with the dildo?!?!”

The Dildo of Doom is based on real events.  That actually happened.  One of my former sorority sisters found the dong of death at a thrift store.  It did indeed have teeth marks on it.  Human teeth marks, I should clarify.  Truth is stranger than fiction.

I have to thank @reinawritesbnha for helping me edit some clunky sections.  If you aren’t already familiar with her work, please check her out!

Taglist- @reinawritesbnha @nkjktk

#Sero #Sero Hant #sero x reader #not sfw #hanta reader #mature situations