#Ema is trying to get some extra money let her be

[krystaldeath]

Where are y’all getting the sprites from I had to resort to just their character art

#ace attorney #athena cykes #nahyuta sahdmadhi #apollo justice #simon blackquill #robin newman #myriam scuttlebutt #klavier gavin #ema skye #blackmadhi #white bg #Bobby probably would’ve worked better for the one with Apollo Simon and Nahyuta in place of Yuta but listen #I prefer bmadhi #that’s what happens when they get together and simon visits kura’in #I haven’t even met Robin or Myriam in the games yet but from fandom content I’ve gathered that the post fits them #Ema is trying to get some extra money let her be #what do you hate women entrepreneurs???

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

fic masterlist (Nov. 6, 2022)

A collection of links and descriptions for my Ace Attorney fanfics are found below--though you could always just visit my AO3 profile and browse them that way!

stop the presses scoop of the century (read all about it) | event of the decade (extra, extra!)

Apollo Justice writes tabloid articles to help pay his law school tuition. Thanks to the wild world of Internet virality, this leads to him starting a relationship with Klavier Gavin, famed rockstar prosecutor

smile for the camera (and keep your fingers crossed)

After a photo of Klavier and Apollo sharing dinner winds up as front-page news, the whole world obviously assumes they're dating. Correcting them seems like it wouldn't be a big deal, except that for the first time since the breakup of the Gavinners, people are paying attention to Klavier's music, and Apollo feels like he's gotta at least do something nice for the guy after he kind of indirectly ruined his life, right? Anyway, it's not like he's going to do anything as cliché as falling for him for real.

thank you for the music (for giving it to me)

Apollo's the first to admit that he's not a Gavinners fan. So why did he agree to accompany Klavier to the premiere of Broadway's latest musical, a play whose plot is based entirely around the band's discography? As the performance unfolds, however, both Klavier and Apollo come to realize that the writers have borrowed more than just Klavier's songs--they've based the story on aspects of the lawyers' real lives, too. Except--hang on, did the two protagonists just kiss?

fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite)

In which Apollo Justice becomes the most popular fic-writer in the Gavinners fandom. (and, along the way, realizes his Big Gay Crush on Klavier Gavin might not be as hopeless as he thought)

perspective

Klavier Gavin, through the years. (an introspective look at the man behind the rockstar façade)

keeping all your hopes alive

After their chance to prove themselves as competent detectives with a big break in an important case goes south, Kay finds her partner Ema drowning her sorrows in their shared office. They have a heart-to-heart--which ends with Ema crashing on Kay's couch (and the acknowledgement of some inconvenient shared feelings between them).

undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward)

Kristoph Gavin is found dead in his prison cell, and Klavier Gavin is the prime suspect. With nobody else available to defend him, Apollo Justice flies in from Khura'in to take the case--but during the course of the trial and its aftermath, long-hidden secrets come to light.

love at first sight (and other common misconceptions)

Klavier's always been certain that when he runs into the person he's going to fall in love with, he'll just know. Apollo believes the exact opposite--that you can't fall in love with someone without getting to know them first. After a bit of convincing, Klavier's starting to see Apollo's point.

let's get old and boring

five times Klavier considers proposing to Apollo, and the one time Apollo gets tired of waiting

Klavier and Apollo Get Scurvy

Klavier and Apollo make a bet to see who can spend the least money in a month on daily essentials. Too bad that in their pursuit of victory, neither one of them remember that fruits and vegetables are kind of important.

Musically Inclined

Sometimes, you've just gotta sing showtunes at the top of your lungs when nobody's around, you know? (Otherwise known as: 5 times Apollo walked in on Klavier singing songs from musicals, and 1 time the opposite scenario happened)

dubiously legal date ideas

Kay Faraday wants to brag about the cool date she and Ema went on--unfortunately, Klavier Gavin doesn't see the romance in breaking and entering.

funeral march

In the aftermath of Lana Skye's trial and the toppling of Damon Gant, Phoenix goes to look for Miles. Their ensuing conversation is perhaps more revealing than he realizes at the time.

shameful

Apollo's just trying to investigate the month's latest crime scene--it's not his fault Klavier keeps being strangely helpful for a rival prosecutor, not to mention distractingly attractive. Ema Skye, however, just wants to be able to present her newly-discovered decisive evidence without having to deal with copious amounts of flirting.

flying cars, smuggling rings, and other futuristic things

Ema's trying to deal with the paperwork from her most recent case--however, Kay's more interested in her thoughts about what the future's going to look like.

morning revelations (to sleep beside you from now on)

It’s not until he sees Klavier beside him, golden hair strewn over the pillow like some sort of Renaissance heroine, that Apollo Justice realizes he’s in love. Apollo wakes up next to Klavier and has to come to terms with his feelings for the prosecutor.

lyrical clarity (knocking some sense into you)

Apollo doesn't pay attention to who's part of his favorite bands--he just appreciates the music as-is. Of course, this means that he's entirely caught off-guard when it turns out that the lead singer of his favorite group is none other than Klavier Gavin. Naturally, he goes to confront Klavier, only to find that there's still more truths to uncover--and a lot that they've still got to talk about.

lonely luxury

After Kristoph's execution, Klavier finds himself alone with his thoughts--until Apollo shows up to remind him he's got people he can rely on for emotional support.

wednesday, 1:22 pm

Ema and Kay take a moment out of their busy schedules to catch up for coffee. (advocating for prosecutors getting bullied is definitely typical date conversation, what do you mean?)

still living (celebrate this new beginning)

Immediately following the untangling of the truth behind DL-6, Miles Edgeworth seeks solace alone in an empty courtroom. However, Phoenix Wright is nothing but a persistent friend.

grave misunderstandings

Apollo Justice has been alive for three hundred and sixteen years, but in all that time, he has never met anyone quite like Klavier Gavin. ...okay, perhaps alive isn’t quite the correct term to use here. Apollo has only been alive for twenty-three of the years he has existed; for the remaining two hundred and ninety-three, it’s more accurate to say he’s been undead. Or: Apollo thinks Klavier's human. Klavier thinks Apollo's human. They're both wrong.

the best-laid plans

Klavier Gavin has planned the perfect proposal--dramatic enough to fulfill his love of Grand Romantic Gestures, yet simple enough to meet Apollo's more straightforward nature. All he has to do is not mess up the decorations! Apollo Justice just wants to know how his boyfriend ended up tangled in several meters of blue fabric.

sweet distractions (M-rated)

Klavier and Apollo grab some frozen treats one summer afternoon in People Park. Unfortunately for Apollo, watching Klavier eat his ice pop is pretty distracting, and doesn't seem to be doing anything to help with the heat.

in effigy (E-rated)

Apollo discovers some scandalous Gavinners merchandise in Klavier's closet. Klavier, having no shame, decides that this is an excellent opportunity to have some fun with it. or, The One With The Official Gavinners Dildos

demo tracks and instrumentals

Klavier, Apollo, and the multitudes of ways in which they find themselves drawn to each other (a collection of drabbles written in response to tumblr prompts and asks)

#lucy's writing #my writing #lmao me forgetting my own tags more like #lucy's thoughts #HEY LOOK AN UPDATED ONE!! #making these fancy graphics took all day

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [2/?]

|1|

Brief summary before the cut: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Frieda’s first real visit, where she was actually visiting her sister, not being their babysitter, ended with orders for them to invest in a pet. She didn’t phrase it particularly demandingly. She only said it once, and didn’t bring it up the rest of the night. She barely raised her voice loud enough to be heard over the stove.

She’d walked in on them during one of their mutual wall/ceiling viewing parties.

It was an order.

“No dogs.”

“Okay.”

“Or cats.”

“Okay.”

“Or ferrets.”

“Okay.”

Eren pulled his jacket tighter. The zipper was broken. He should have worn a sweatshirt. He walked down the sidewalk, foot hitting every crack and head wondering if his mom would have preferred a broken back to a broken heart. “Nothing that can get out and crawl around the apartment.”

Historia, behind the personal barrier that used to be the map to the pet store, said, “Eren, we’re getting a fish.”

“Oh,” Eren said. “Okay.” Pause. “Just one?”

“Do you want more than one?”

Eren wasn’t sure he wanted one. He wasn’t sure he wanted one of anything else, either. He mostly wanted Historia’s sister to worry less. He felt like he had two moms these days, and he was letting down both of them. “I… do fish get lonely?”

“Don’t know.”

That made two of them.

An hour, a very talkative employee, and five pamphlets later, Eren still didn’t have an answer to his question, and knew more about nitrate cycles than high school or Armin had ever bothered with. He also found out that the same yearly school field trip to the aquarium each year had taught him nothing about aquariums.

Pumps, vacuums, filters, water treatments, thermometers. Food. Tanks bigger than he could lift.

Armin would have loved this.

One text and he’d probably explain exactly what they wanted and what kind of fish to look for better than the sales guy, and ask if they wanted him to come help out in person with the selections. The trip wouldn’t be giving Eren a headache and he wouldn’t have visions of all the fish they were going to fail dancing in his head.

Armin wasn’t there, and Eren would have to read one of the hundreds of texts from him to find out if there was even a chance of changing that in this reality. Without hating himself so much he couldn’t breathe.

Historia was in the same leaky boat he was, so by the time the sales guy let them go with instructions to look around the store and figure out what kind of aquarium they’d like, Eren really had no idea why they were getting a fish. Besides the merit points from a successful purchase. If they pulled this off without anything dying, it would be like a giant neon sign announcing to the world that they were sort of functional.

The neon sign would not be going near the fish, because that screwed with the lighting, and that, according to the midpoint of their free lecture, would be bad.

“Did you have a breed in mind?” he asked Historia. The damp, weighty smell surrounding them made him feel like he was underwater and drowning. “Or a color?”

“You can pick,” Historia said.

Eren hadn’t met their new fish yet, but he felt sorry for it.

One of them had to put some kind of executive effort into this. Historia was paying for everything. That left him. He could handle walking around and figuring out which fish they were going to try like hell not to kill.

Sometime during their tutorial, they’d ended up in the tropical section. Everything was bright and smelled like the ocean. Eren’s eyes had spent the last ten minutes burning, and now that it was just him and Historia, he was having trouble keeping them from leaking.

Armin and Mikasa should have been there.

They weren’t, and they couldn’t be, and that was his own damn fault, and he didn’t want them there—

“Eren?”

He looked up from the stained concrete floor.

Historia had zoned back in, and was watching his clenched, shaking, fists. He tried to relax them. It didn’t work. He was standing in the middle of a fish store, trying not to cry, and he couldn’t hit anything because then he probably would kill a fish, and Historia being filthy rich wouldn’t fix how awful and pissed that would make him feel, and before he knew it he’d be back behind Zeke’s batting cages, hearing all of the offers the dealer was making and actually listening.

“Eren,” Historia’s voice said, firmly.

“Yeah.” His was too far away, somewhere under the waves of the ocean. But he blinked and he was looking at the bright colors, not the floor, and a quick swipe cleared the damp spots away from under his eyes. “Salt water’s okay, right?”

He could see her nod. Her footsteps followed him down the aisle, and he concentrated on looking at the damn colorful fish. He had no idea what to look for. The sales guy had set them loose with a happy smile, telling them that if they found something they liked, he’d help out with the step-by-step of what to buy first.

There were more steps to this than Eren ever wanted to think about, which probably meant it was healthy to try.

His eyes floated over to a tank on the other side of the aisle. Less colorful, and full of rocks. A lone fish roved back and forth inside, dark spines the size of his fingers swishing along with it. It looked like someone had chopped up a sea urchin and glued its spikes to a large brown goldfish with streaky frills. A lionfish, someone else’s happy voice reminded him, carrying the sound of hurriedly flipped pages.

He didn’t hate the thought of caring for one of those.

He walked over to the tank, crouching down to stare at the thing properly. The card sitting by the tank agreed with his memory. And the fish was too big to mistake for an art fixture. It looked like a real creature; a real pet, not just something to lock away and call personal growth. Alive and fierce. Frieda would approve.

“What do you think?” he asked Historia.

She watched the lionfish swish into one of its rock caves. They both did.

“Okay.”

By the time they were back in their apartment, and the giant tank with all its mixed water and pumps and gravel and sand and rock features was set up, and they were staring at it instead of a blank wall, Eren understood a little better why they were getting a fish.

He doubted it was the upgrade Frieda was aiming for. He also doubted they could do any better.

---

A week into cycling the tank, Eren found the will for the conversation he’d put off since moving in.

Eren wasn’t big on letting people take care of him. His mom could attest to that. To hear her tell it, the day he started crawling, he’d spent all his time crawling away from her. Bandaging his skinned knees as a toddler had taken an hour of convincing before he’d let his—

He didn’t like being kept, or treated like he couldn’t handle his own life. After rehab, he lost the right to that mattering. His mom wasn’t going to accept her grown son’s rent when he needed babying, and he didn’t have the energy to push past the shame and argue.

Things were different now.

He hoped.

Historia was his sponsor, not his mother, and he was hers. He’d seen the bill for their aquarium. Pre-fish (they were giving the tank a month before they picked up its resident). He’d lived in their apartment. He’d seen Historia throw things into their shopping cart without checking prices. She paid for it from a wallet full of holes, but she never cared about the cost or bothered with coupons.

He knew Historia and her family had more money than he would even know what to do with. He knew he couldn’t afford his share if they split it honestly. He didn’t care. He was an adult. He worked. He could help pay for his own sad life.

It was important, Petra had said once, to remember that they were still part of the world. Addiction was what kept them out of it; recovery meant finding their way back in.

That was one of the first meetings he went to. He’d broken a fingernail gripping his chair and acid had boiled up his throat. Petra’s cookies had been too soft, and he ate three to make the taste go away.

Things were better now. He was cutting up carrots for dinner in an apartment that he didn’t share with someone he had hurt.

“I want to start paying rent,” Eren said.

Historia, alternating between reading her textbook and watching a pot boil, briefly added him to the rotation. “I told you, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Eren repeated, wincing at the extra volume his voice picked up. “I’m not some helpless little kid who needs handouts. I can pull my own weight.” Even if he’d been happy acting like he couldn’t up until now. What the fuck was wrong with him. He kept talking, trying to skid over that thought before he crashed into it. “I can’t keep taking advantage of people.”

“You’re not,” Historia said. She leaned against the counter, frowning. “I’m the one who asked you to move in so I could stop worrying my sister. You don’t need to pay me for being selfish.”

“That isn’t the point,” Eren said.

Historia continued as if she didn’t hear him. “Besides, I’m not paying for any of this either.”

“That’s—look, Historia, I’d just…” Eren took a deep breath, because breathing exercises were supposed to help. They didn’t, but they were supposed to, and he couldn’t say some of the horrible things his mind came up with if he was inhaling. He screwed what was left of his useless courage and doubled down. “It would help my recovery a lot if I could help out with some of this.”

The words were terrible and lifeless, straight out of the meetings they both hated, and he should have stuck a thank-you somewhere in the middle, because he owed her everything for the help he was squirming out of.

Historia was looking at the ceiling. Her mouth was half-open, and Eren thought she agreed that he was back to saying all of the wrong things.

“My father’s paying for it,” she said quietly.

A block of ice coalesced in Eren’s chest.

“Oh,” Eren said, because even if she wasn’t talking about the dead one, she’d only ever mentioned the dead one before, and they both had dead ones and—he swallowed. Breathed. They’d never really gone over it, but Historia was easy enough to spot, and he’d gone to enough protests and rallies to know that blank silence was the worst thing he could do here, even if they weren’t talking about her. He smiled, jaw creaking with effort and soul cringing. “Your dad was gay?”

Timing meant he was expecting pain to get in the way of any relief. He was sure he was intruding on memories that weren’t any of his business, and even if he was trying to be a supportive friend, he was terrible at it, and they were now back to a place where he knew he’d be making things worse.

What he got was perplexed bewilderment.

“…What?”

He was definitely going to make this worse. “You—you said your dad was dead,” Eren said, slowly enough to be insulting on its own, “but your dad’s paying for the apartment, so that means you have—had, sorry—two?”

Historia stared at him.

She blinked, once, mouth forming a legion of unspoken words.

Eren, realizing he should have just shoved checks under her door each month, stayed standing awkwardly in front of the cutting board, waiting for the axe to fall and fervently regretting the lack of pills nearby.

“Eren,” Historia said at last, words warbling furiously, “my inheritance is paying for all of this. He put me in his will. Frieda wouldn’t let me—she thinks using it is good for my—” She looked across the room at the fishless aquarium.

“I’m supposed to spend it,” she said. Her mouth twitched, a muffled sort of chuckle escaping. Followed by another.

A peal of laughter whimpered from her lungs, ragged and horrified, and Historia was sliding down to the floor, hand pressed to her forehead while the fit of hysteria took over, giggles turning to honest cackles, tearing through the kitchen. Eren watched. He just stood there and watched.

Because she only had one dad, and she’d killed him.

He was dead.

The sob waiting in Eren’s chest came out wrong, not matching the horror and helplessness swirled in it, or the feel of blood warm in his hands as he tried to stop it all from spilling out even though it was too late, and he slipped down to the floor next to Historia, biting down on his thumb to keep from laughing.

By the time Frieda came by, bringing her weekly gift of ice cream, they were both crying.

---

Historia said they could work out splitting the fish costs and groceries, and there really wasn’t a reason to bring it up past that, so they didn’t.

Frieda didn’t, either.

Eren had the disturbing feeling that she understood.

---

Reiner wasn’t outside when Eren showed up for their run.

That was weird to start with. Reiner was as fanatically devoted to taking care of himself as he had been to heroin. Not just physically. He had a day planner. He’d offered to buy Eren one. The guy did not know how to flake.

Standing out in front of the house in Reiner’s usual spot was a woman Eren recognized from some of Reiner’s pictures. He’d flipped through them every single day of rehab, and Eren had wanted him dead.

He didn’t remember the woman’s name. She was scrolling through her phone when he jogged up, and the nod she gave him wasn’t very inviting. Dark circles shaded her freckles, but she was wearing workout clothes. Maybe Eren had missed a text, and he was helping out both of them today.

“Reiner still inside?” he asked.

“Yeah,” the woman said, pocketing her phone. “That’s where he’s staying, too. Bastard’s too sick to be conscious, forget running around the block.”

Too sick to warn Eren, too.

He was paying Eren. They were only sort of friends. Missing out on a run with him still made Eren want to crawl into the nearest hole and not come out. Reiner wasn’t exactly a bright spot to his day, but his day had started with a text from Armin. Reiner never made anything worse. Him and his normalcy had been something to look forward to when Eren woke up and threw his phone through his pillowcase.

World much gloomier than it needed to be at six in the morning, Eren said, “Is there anything I can help with? There’s a drugstore—” he wasn’t going to think about it, he wasn’t going to think about it— “a couple miles out I could hit for him.”

“Thanks, but I think Bert’s got the panicked nursing covered.”

Bertolt, Eren had met. He was usually watering the rosebush outside the house at the end of their morning run. “Great,” Eren said.

That left him… where? Needing to send a get-well text?

He made polite eye contact with Reiner’s friend. Like a person. “I’ll head off, then,” he said. “Let Reiner know today’s on me.”

The woman smirked at him. It might have been meant as a smile, but the glint in her eyes and Eren’s mood said smirk. “You have a side job exercising strangers,” she said. “Don’t volunteer to throw away money.”

Before Eren could point out that he wasn’t a dick, even if she was, she added, “Anyway, that’s what dragged me into this. Reiner thinks routines are part of the ex-junkie bible, and he didn’t want to screw you up just because he forgot to wash his hands. So I’ll be palling around with you this morning to assuage your mutual guilt complexes. You’re welcome.”

Eren had to unclench his jaw before he could speak. He wanted to go back to bed. He also wanted to go inside the house and wring Reiner’s fucking neck. The happy chittering of the birds sounded like cheaply ringing tin in his ears. “Reiner told you?”

Reiner told anyone?

Eren didn’t tell his friends that his client asked for makeup advice he didn’t have to cover up his track marks. He didn’t talk about Reiner’s lifelong fear of needles not holding a fucking candle to his snowballing drug habits. He didn’t breathe a damn word about any of it, not even in group, not even with the names taken out, because why the fuck would he do that to anyone.

“Don’t lose your head about it,” the woman’s voice echoed. “It only came up because he was already wetting himself over missing your appointment.” Her shoes thumped across the concrete, and Eren felt a slap against his shoulder. “He was worried, and hurling too much for his brain to keep a lid on why. He freaked out all over again when he realized what he said. He was trying to be a good friend, not an asshole. He just has a bad habit of mixing the two.”

Eren’s fingernails were digging into his palms. He had to concentrate to make them stop, but they stopped, and without the sting that said he broke the skin.

Deep breaths. The ones that never really worked.

“It’s fine,” he said.

“Right,” said the woman. He could feel her watching him. The scrutiny reminded him of the rehab shrink. Or a more hostile Petra. “Sorry. Usually I only bring up sensitive subjects on purpose.”

Eren didn’t know how much of a joke that was. He decided it didn’t matter. He reeled his head back to a zone where he knew how to handle all of this, even if he didn’t, reminded himself it was too early in the morning for him to shoot Historia a text asking for commiseration, and breathed normally.

“Do you need some time to stretch, or are you good to go now?” Eren asked.

The woman gave a one-armed shrug. “Feel free to run away from me at your leisure. I’m just here to take up space.” She watched him another moment before sticking out her hand. “Ymir, by the way.”

Eren shook it with as much heart as he didn’t have. “Eren.”

Her smile was all teeth. “Nice meeting you.”

----

Reiner wasn’t the only person who was sick, it turned out.

Eren knew he had to do something about the phone problem. This was a marked improvement from not thinking of it as a problem. He didn’t think he could steal credit for that. The outside world was screaming it at him. Armin had taken up regular texts like clockwork, and if that meant something was wrong, Eren didn’t know how to check without losing his mind. Being a fuckup and a coward would do that. Mikasa’s daily texts had never stopped. Hannes had gotten back to him about supervising some free climbers over the weekend. His first since his broken leg.

His pulse hadn’t dropped a beat when that conversation ended and a disaffected buzz announced a message from Zeke.

Zeke had barely spoken to him since the funeral. He’d walked him in and out of the rehab facility doors and left him alone. It wasn’t that different from the way things were before their dad died. The only change was him not dropping by unannounced to take Eren off on some adventure. If he’d tried that recently, no one had mentioned it. Eren wasn’t sure anyone had even bothered giving him his new address.

A text from Zeke out of the blue was a danger sign. Eren couldn’t just ignore it. He also couldn’t click on it.

Pacing the entire length of the apartment back and forth and back again, Eren could admit he had a problem. Step one. The last time that revelation had crept up and slammed him into a gutter, it was one of the worst moments of his life. This didn’t compare, but it left him feeling lopsided and tired. He couldn’t ignore his brother. Zeke had never ignored him. He had every reason in the world to, but he never had. Eren owed him.

He couldn’t open the damn text.

He made another agitated circuit around the apartment. His phone wasn’t set to tick down seconds, but they were playing back in his head fine without the help. He was rounding the couch, checking the aquarium and wishing they already had a fish to stare at—like that had a chance of helping, but maybe it did—when the loud clap of a slamming textbook stopped him in his tracks.

Historia, who he hadn’t noticed, was lying on the floor. Until a millisecond of time passed for her to gather her temper and she stood up from the rug, swept over, and threw out her hand.

Eren, who hadn’t come up with a better plan yet, gave her his phone. She almost took his hand off with it.

“Under Zeke,” he said. In case she mistook him for someone who had decided today was the time to finally go through and acknowledge the hundreds of unread texts Armin and Mikasa had sent him.

Historia scanned the screen in slow motion. “Someone’s sick,” she said, and visions of hospitals gone by and panic started up before she filled in the rest. “He wants to know if you can sub in for the game on Saturday.”

Baseball. No emergency. Baseball.

Eren breathed out, sighing. Relief was missing from it. He didn’t know why he had expected anything else. A quiet, petty hole that rehab hadn’t filled all the way was still waiting for Zeke to say something about what happened. He never would, and he was an ungrateful bastard for wanting more than what he’d got. What he’d got was more than he deserved. If Zeke never talked to him about anything but baseball, Eren would live with that.

That could really happen, too. Zeke loved baseball like he’d never loved anyone in his own damn family—

Eren moved to take back his phone before his head started something his fists couldn’t finish. Historia’s temper flare had vanished, and she dangled the device between them like it was the bomb about to go off instead of them. She made it look as large and unwieldy in her hands as it felt in Eren’s thoughts. He didn’t know why that helped. He wasn’t even sure if it did.

With how the day was going, Eren couldn’t be surprised when it buzzed with another text the second his finger brushed the casing. Historia jumped slightly, and Eren hated his eyes for catching the name on the screen.

Because Armin had started texting him again.

Great.

He was looking at the floor. Historia kept holding the phone. The bomb.

Great, great, great, great.

Eren could feel his breath shortening, his blood pumping faster, and he was supposed to be getting a grip and trying to be better than all of this and he wanted to break something. More things than he had the first time, or the second, or the third, or the twelfth, because all of those times hadn’t made the right impression, Armin was still trying, and so was Mikasa, and he was so sick of it, and himself, and Zeke, and—

“Have you ever been to a batting cage?” Eren blurted out.

Historia took a moment to answer. “What?” she said.

“Batting cage,” Eren said, feeling a tension headache building. “Have you ever been?”

“No?”

Ten minutes later, Eren didn’t think he felt a whole lot better, but nothing was broken, he hadn’t hurt anyone, and Historia wasn’t complaining about the sprinters’ pace they were walking down the sidewalk at. He didn’t think that last one was a point in his favor. She hadn’t given him his phone back. It was still a good thing. Someone was around to keep him from being stupid.

He led the way with a nervous energy that he hated. He knew how his body was supposed to work. It wasn’t a natural like Mikasa’s—and that turned the notch up on his leg speed one more time—but he’d spent time on it, and he knew how he liked to move. Purposefully. With real energy that came from the core. Not nervous sweats and clenched fists.

There were two batting cages within walking distance of their apartment. One, neither of them needed to be anywhere near. The other was fine, and normal, and open until midnight. Glazed lights decking a row of fence were visible from the street. The padded green of the fake grass stapled to every inch of the facility’s floor wasn’t. Two pairs of feet thumped across it to the cashier’s window out front.

Eren forked out the cash from his wallet to the drowsy employee manning the entrance before Historia had a chance to object. They marched on through without a word.

It was cool and dark outside, even with the glare of the lights, and Eren stuffed a helmet on his head from the rack and grabbed a bat before his thoughts slowed down enough to race in coherent circles. He couldn’t hit people anymore, but he sure could hit objects.

Historia was still trailing behind him, and she’d never been and he would help with that in a second after he took care of him, and watching was where it all started anyway it wasn’t like he was that great with words like—

He smacked the start button. His other hand clasped the bat, touching metal where the glue had peeled away from the grip. He raised it over his shoulder, a million lessons from a man who looked too much like his father coursing through his veins, and he was holding a metal pole and watching the blood spurt over it and his hands and

and

He remembered to hit the emergency stop and he made it to the trash can. That was the important part.

Fuck.

He didn’t know where the bat was, but all his hands were holding was the plastic bag around the rim of the trash can. His head was dipped down next to a collection of empty Styrofoam cups, gum, and vomit. The acidic burning in his throat waited for a swallow. The rest of him stayed still, waiting for the next hit.

That hadn’t happened before. He’d thought of it happening, but it never did. He hadn’t thrown up since he bet Jean he could drink an entire case of soda in first grade. He won. His mom still had a special sigh for that stain on the carpet.

Eren pulled himself out of the garbage. His knee was shaking. Badly enough to bring up more problems, so he sat down on the fake grass and let it scratch his fingers. He swallowed through the burning, and pressed a fist to his forehead.

Fuck.

Footsteps approached. Another cup showed up by his head. Not empty. Eren took it and sipped the water, and it was just like any other workout.

The only thing he could think of that would make it any worse was if he started crying, and he felt like he was going to.

Historia sat down next to him.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” she asked. She sounded like she was reading off a script. She was still holding his phone.

Eren hated his fucking phone. He wanted to throw it into a landfill.

He took a breath, and another sip of water. Besides the phone, which could go to hell, the hate felt cooler. Like all the lava out under the sky was turning into something solid. He’d liked Armin’s volcano phase. It’d been his phase, too. Like with the dinosaurs, and that one summer with pelicans.

He’d kill to be talking to Armin about pelicans right now. Instead he was sitting on a batting cage floor, the only support system he was strong enough to bear sitting right next to him instead of studying for her test like she was supposed to, and his lips were covered in drying bile, and he’d killed his dad.

Admitting he had problems wasn’t too hard when they were this obvious.

Eren opened his fist and dragged his hand through his hair.

“Do you have anyone?” Eren asked quietly. “That you have to make amends to?”

The answer was instantaneous, and not much of a surprise. “Frieda.”

Eren twisted his bangs around his fingers. Only a little of him wanted to tug it all out by the roots. “Not family. People you screwed up because they liked you and liking you meant they were around when you fucked up your life. Friends.”

Historia didn’t say anything for a whole minute.

“No,” she said.

That one was more of a surprise. It shouldn’t have been, because she was his roommate, and he had a pretty wide window into her life, but it was, and now Eren felt like even more of a dick. He dropped his hand into his lap and silently added Historia to his list. Maybe she’d be one he could actually cross off.

He didn’t know what to say next, because ‘sorry,’ was more of a distraction than he could deal with while being this useless, but as long as he was sober, he wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to just leave that bombshell alone.

Historia took pity on him and sighed.

“I had a fiancée in juvie.”

Eren blinked. He lifted his head. “You can get engaged in juvie?” he asked.

“You were in juvie?” was close behind, and he felt stupid enough thinking it to avoid saying it, because no matter how tiny she was, saying he had trouble picturing his drug addicted, father-murdering roommate doing time was…

“It’s not something you have to fill out paperwork for,” Historia said, continuing blithely on. “It’s just a promise. Words.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She was older, so she got out before I did, and after that, I never heard from her again. We never even—” Historia stopped herself. Her eyes shut. “She probably didn’t even mean it. It started as a joke.”

It didn’t sound like it came from any sense of humor he’d known. Historia wasn’t laughing. Neither was Eren. He took another sip of the water she’d found him before he crushed the cup and it spilled all over his jeans.

“She doesn’t even know my real name,” Historia said, almost inaudibly. Her blinks sped up. “She was gone before my drug habit could disappoint her. She would have—” Historia snorted and there was something dark and chaotic in her smile.

“She would have killed me.”

This was a joke she got. Eren didn’t.

They sat in silence for a few moments, sitting on the scratchy fake grass. Eren spotted his bat on the floor next to the open cage.

“I have these friends,” he said, “that I don’t know how to…”

Trailing off was as close as he could get to articulating it. Historia could probably figure out the gist by living with him. Tonight wasn’t the first time his phone had caused problems, it was just the first time he’d made them her problem.

“The text before we left looked like some sort of science fact-a-day,” Historia said. “Frieda has a subscription to a few things like that.” He could feel her watching him. Months of feeling like everyone was watching him had honed the sense. “He’s probably copying you on them.”

That sounded like Armin. The perfect way to start talking without saying anything.

He waited for anger to spike with the thought, but he just felt tired.

He looked at the baseball bat. Historia followed his look.

“Zeke’s my half-brother,” he said. “I owe him, but if Saturday’s anything like this I’d be better off not showing up at all.”

Historia said, easily, “I’ll fill in for you.” Like any of his friends would have after he dragged them out of their apartment in the middle of the night to have a panic attack in front of them.

Being too stubborn to admit that he needed help was what had gotten him here. He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t think anyone wanted him to.

“Have you ever played baseball?”

“No.”

Zeke was going to love this.

---

Zeke did.

He’d also shaved.

Eren hadn’t seen him without a beard in years. It was weird, made him look like he belonged at some sort of board meeting, and every time they made eye contact Eren needed a second to find his brother in the face.

What he didn’t find, and what he’d been scared of seeing, was their dad.

He didn’t know if he was allowed to say thank you. They didn’t really do that. Zeke hadn’t said anything about Historia showing up as the sub for his sub. He was grateful, since the tiny adult baseball league was his entire life, and he’d be heartbroken if he missed out on any of it, but he didn’t say it. Not with Eren. There was just this quiet expectation that it would all work out, because they were brothers. No thanks necessary.

Not being the one playing, Eren had too much time to think about that.

Now, after the game, sitting across from his brother at the pizza parlor Zeke had selected instead of the bar he’d taken his team to every game day for at least five years, Eren was still thinking about it.

“Your roommate doesn’t have a bad arm,” Zeke said. “Do you think she’d want to join up?”

“You’d have to ask her.” Historia had gone outside when Colt ordered a beer, and he didn’t know if she’d noticed that Yelena had spent the entire seventh inning stretch and drive over asking too many questions, but it was mostly going okay. She’d caught a fly ball and gotten a hit, and their team won. They’d both had worse days.

“I might, if you can’t play.”

Eren’s hand tensed around his drink.

Zeke wouldn’t ask. Somebody had shown up, so he wouldn’t ask. Eren still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew. Even if there was no way he could. Zeke was like that. Hide and seek had turned into a banned game the nights Zeke babysat. No matter how hard Eren tried, Zeke always found him, and his mom had gotten sick of coming home to him exploding in frustration.

Eren wanted him to ask. Zeke came to Eren instead of hitting up Mikasa when he needed a sub. He cared. Eren wanted to feel it instead of just knowing it, for once.

He was an ungrateful brat, in a lot of ways.

Zeke paid for the pizza. Historia eventually walked back in and sat with them. Zeke asked about school, and rock climbing, and what they thought about the batting order they’d tried.

He didn’t ask about Eren.

Which was fine. What would he have said, anyway? He was ghosting his best friends in the world while they tried to keep him in their lives. He didn’t get to miss his big brother for having the brains to stay out of it all.

[next]

#drug au #fic #mine #long post

[fratboyvivimatthews]

and they were roommates: a series - auston matthews

welcome home 

summary: even in the beginning there were new girls at the apartment, along with a promised autograph 

warnings: swearing? 

word count: [2,970]

“Wait, what do you mean Toronto?” Your father asked running his hand over his face. “You’re going to move to Toronto?” Sheepishly you nodded your head, praying your parents would be in agreement with you. 

“Auston asked me to move there with him, best friends remember?” You added looking to your mom to help you with this. Even being a daddy’s girl you knew the only way you were going to get to Toronto was through you mom. “Please dad I want this, I want to be with Auston.”

The look you received from your mother was one you didn’t put any thought into. But little did you know was that your mother had a feeling, and a bet with Ema. “D/n, I think it would be good for her. She needs to experience other places, spend time there.”  

“In Toronto? M/n just because they’re best friends doesn’t mean they need to be live with each other! In another country,” your father explained still trying to wrap his head around this. “What about college? What about Clarkson and your dreams Y/n?”

Slowly a smile grew on your face, “Well about that.” Pulling a piece of paper out from behind your back you walked over to hand it to him. “I applied, and well I was accepted.” His eyes ran over the words over, and over again.

Your e/c eyes met your mother’s e/c ones knowing he was finally ready to let you go. “Dad you pushed me to be friends with Auston, and we’re inseparable because of you. Please, just let me go. I’ll be with Auston so I won’t get hurt, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

Dropping down to your knees in front of him you were ready to beg. Grabbing his hands you saw the tears in his eyes when he looked down at you. “I know kid,” he started with a soft smile. “It’s just I’m not ready to see you go.” Tears filled your own eyes as you rushed up to hug him.

“Dad, I’m never going to leave you. I’m never going to leave either of you guys, I’ll come back when Aus has his first game back here. And for everything-” your rambles were cut off by your parents laughter through their tears.

“Well since you’re leaving us then we have to get you packed, don’t we?” Pulling away from your father’s arms you looked over to your mom. “We can’t keep Auston waiting now, can we?” 

Sighing you fell back on to your bed exhausted after packing all the clothes you figured you’d need for your new home. Only after you heard a car pull into the drive next door did you shoot up with excitement. A smile grew on your face already knowing it was him. Pushing yourself off your bed you held on to your phone, and sprinted out of your room.

Passing by your parents in the process. “Auston must be home.”

Turning you looked over at them with a smile while slipping on your Nike slides. “He is, and I have to tell him the good news. I’ll be back, sometime,” you yelled while you ran out the front door. It didn’t even take a minute for you to get the Matthews’ house.

A place you new better than your own house. Ema was standing outside the car with a smile on her face. “I was wondering how long it would take for you two to be glued at the hip again.” Your cheeks flushed red and your eyes fell down to the driveway. “He’s inside already, probably trying to clean the mess that he calls a room.”

Giving the women you considered a second mother a warm smile you raced into the house. Passing by cardboard boxes, and family pictures which you were included in you made it to his room. Opening the door to see it was in fact a mess as Ema called it. “Sorry ‘bout the mess, but then again you already knew it would be.”

The truth in his voice made you laugh, and that caused him to turn and look at you with a smile. The special smile that was only held for you and his mom. The two most important women in his life. “So I have some news,” you stated with a cheeky smirk, “and I think you might want to be sitting down for it.”

Auston’s eyebrows raised in confusion before complying, and dropping down on to the bed next to you. “I’m sitting, now what’s this life changing news you have for me? You didn’t get a boyfriend did you?”

Your eyes widened before shaking your head no, “Of course not. I’m more of a hit and quit type girl.” Your laughter mixed with Auston’s deep laugh to bounce off the walls of his room knowing you were joking. “No, but on a more serious note,” you paused trying to regain your proper breathing, “I’m moving to Toronto.”

If it was even possible his smile grew even more. “Wait you mean D/n signed off? I can’t believe this,” Auston cheered jumping up from the bed. In a flash the eighteen year old was crushing you in what he called a hug.

“Aus get off of me,” you laughed, “you’re crushing me!” You could feel Auston’s chest vibrating from above you. “Auston I’m serious, my lungs are collapsing.” He rolled off of the top of you, now laying on his side smiling over at you.

“I can’t believe I get to take you with me Y/n/n,” Auston whispered before pulling you into a proper hug. “My best friend with me every step of the way, no matter what.” You smiled up at Auston never wanting to let go of him, or the friendship you have. “But right now I need you to help me finish packing.”

Rolling your eyes you pushed yourself off of him, “Of course you do.” Auston gave you a cheeky smile before standing to help you pack his things. “Auston Matthews you’d be screwed without me.”

“I think you mean I would be dead without you Y/n/n,” he corrected with a wink.

“You’re gonna be dead because of me if you don’t start helping, that’s what,” you huffed before throwing a pile of his clothes at him. Laughing he stood up from the bed and walked to his closet and began throwing clothes into cardboard boxes. “Never mind, stop helping,” you fussed pushing him away from the box, “go back to being useless.”

His eyes rolled before dropping back to his bed while you folded clothes, “Whatever you want roommate, but I’m not useless and you know that.” Ignoring him completely you continued to work on packing for the second time, but this time it wasn’t even for yourself. Roommates, am I right? 

“You mean this is ours?” You asked dumbfound as you stared at the already furnished living room. Even with furniture and some of Auston’s pictures hanging up it looked huge, too big for teenagers to be living in. “Auston this is insane, and must have cost a fortune. I thought we agreed to get furniture when I got here.”

He smiled at you, brown eyes full of trouble. “No I said, we’d get the stuff for your room together. My sisters and mom helped me with this stuff.” And thank god they did, who knew what you would’ve walked into if they didn’t have helped. “So whenever you want we can go get stuff for your room, but I have a surprise for you.”

Your e/c eyes went wide as he said this. “Auston no more surprises, this apartment is surprise enough.” Auston however didn’t listen to your protests, and dragged you to what was your new room. A white door stood in between you and your new safe place, but Auston stopped you before you could go in.

“Close your eyes, and no peeking, I’m serious Y/n/n,” Auston instructed causing a sigh to fall from your lips. Just as an extra measure his large hands covered your eyes making it impossible to peek even though you knew not too. “Okay you can open them in one, two, three!”

When you opened them you saw a light blue wall with pineapple lights hanging around it. In fact the pineapple lights hung around every wall, not just the blue one. That wasn’t the only thing, a picture from the draft was front and center on the light blue wall. “I had Bree help me pick it out, and paint the walls in general. I wanted it to feel like home since we’re so far away.”

Your eyes drifted from the single picture to his brown eyes full to the brim of happiness. “You’ve always had a picture wall, and knew you would want one here so I hope you don’t mind I started it.” Shaking your head you wrapped him up in a hug. “Welcome home Y/n.”

“Welcome home Aus,” you answered before pulling away to open one of the cardboard boxes marked pictures. Then an idea crossed your mind. “Whoever unpacks the most boxes doesn’t have to make dinner tonight,” you stated with a smirk. “Do we have a deal?”

His hand stuck out in front for you to shake, “Oh you’re going down L/n.” If only it was always as simple as stupid little competitions on who had to make dinner, but it never was that easy because that’s life. And for some reason life didn’t like you very much. 

“Auston quit staring at those girls, you’re probably freaking them out,” you sassed his attention snapping back to you and the desk you were looking at for your room. “Just because you’re some hot shot now doesn’t mean you can stare at girls like some creep.”

Your best friend smirked over at you, causing the group of girls to whisper amongst themselves. “How is that being a creep Y/n/n?” He asked still looking at them. “They were checking me out first,” he added before turning and giving you his full attention once more.

Sighing you picked up the box the desk was in and put it in your cart which was almost full. “You haven’t even played a game yet bud, you know they’re only in it for the fame and money right? They just want to be able to say ‘I slept with Auston Matthews!’.” The pointed look you gave the Hispanic boy went right over his head as he walked away from you. “Auston you’re not even listening to me,” you scoffed crossing your arms over your chest. Your best friend had just blown you off.

Before he made it to the girls he turned to face you once more, “Oh you’ll need this.” His wallet was thrown at you and your mouth dropped. “I’ll meet you at home later, oh and you’ll need these,” he added before his keys hit you in the face. Flipping him off you turned back towards your cart.

“I can’t believe he just ditched me,” you huffed out loud to yourself. “I don’t even know anyone here and he just left me in the middle of an Ikea. Some best friend you are Auston Matthews.” Storming away from the now growing group you made your way to the front of the store to check out.

After a short walk to the front you were able to get away from the giggle fangirls. You’ve been in Toronto for not even a full day and Auston’s fangirls had already replaced you. The fangirls you didn’t know he had, but hey at least you were the one with his wallet and car keys.

Smirking you walked up to the counter ready to pay not afraid to rack up the money. “Hi all of this please,” you informed the cashier with a sickly sweet smile. With his eyebrows raised he started the task at hand.

“Is all of this on one card, or are you splitting it?” The man proceed to ask his eyes meeting yours.

“Put it all on this one thanks,” you answered handing Auston’s card over with a smile. The Ikea worker looked down at the card then back up at you clearly already knowing who Auston was. “Don’t worry I’m his best friend, he gave me the card.” The look he gave you proved he didn’t believe you at all. Sighing you leaned down on the cart. “Check the cameras if you really want, I came in with him.”

“Then why aren’t you leaving with him?” The cashier was quick to snap back crossing his arms over his chest. Huffing out in frustration you turned to see Auston and his new found friends.

Pointing over at them you spoke, “That’s why,” making the cashier burst out into laughter. “I swear to god I’m his best friend, just please let me buy my stuff and leave. I can get you anything.”

His eyes lit up, “Anything?” you nodded your head with a hopeful smile. “I want his autograph.”

“Deal, I’ll get it to you tomorrow, but can I pay and go now please?” With a quick nod of his head he began to ring you up. Pulling your phone you opened Snapchat to keep you occupied. Your eyes fell to the one Auston had sent you taking priority over the rest. Opening you found it to be a selfie of the girls had had ditched you for.

Rolling your eyes you had to stop yourself from gagging. “I just need you to sign this and you can go.” Your eyes snapped up to see the guy staring at your phone screen. Closing the app out you did as instructed. “Here’s your card and receipt, and I’ll see you and that autograph tomorrow.”

With a tight lipped smile you nodded your head before hurrying out of the store. “Now where the fuck did he park?” 

“Hello mom,” you huffed exhausted from setting up your room and putting furniture together. “I’ve been gone for less than forty-eight hours and you’re already calling to see if i wanna come home?” Her gently laugh filled your ears making you smile for the first time since Auston ditched you this morning.

“I wouldn’t say I’m seeing if you wanted to come home, more like checking in. Are you all unpacked?” She questioned as you looked around your room which only had a couple cardboard boxes laying around, along with some tools. Humming as an answer you sat up from your bed waiting for her to continue. “That’s good, but about furniture did you get that all figured out?”

“Yes mom,” you drawled wishing her questioning would stop. Your mood was already horrible because Auston had left you for some girls he doesn’t even know, and now your mother won’t stop asking you questions. “What about you and dad? How has it been without me there?”

It was her turn to sigh, “It’s not easy that’s for sure. I keep thinking you’re just hiding up in your room, or over at the Matthews’. But you’re all the way in Toronto, my baby’s all grown up.”

“Mom,” you whined pushed yourself up from your bed, “I’m not a little girl anymore. And like I told dad nothing will happen to me as long as I’m with Auston. You know that.” She was silent and you could only hope that she wasn’t second guessing her decision to let you go.

“I know, speaking of Auston, where is he? I feel like haven’t talked to him in ages,” she admitted and your stomach dropped hoping she wasn’t asking to talk to him. “Do you think I could talk to him?”

With your mouth hanging open you rushed out of your room to see if he was home yet, but he wasn’t. “I uh - no, you can’t. Sorry mom he’s got getting us lunch,” you lied while staring at the empty Panera bag on the counter.

“Oh I see, well then I’ll let you get back to your unpacking. Talk to you tomorrow?” She asked voice hopeful bringing a smile to your face. Laughing you agreed and hung up the phone call with your mother.

Sighing you were about to turn back and head to your room, only the front door opened followed by loud laughter had you rooted in your place. Your eyes were glued on to the the girl wrapped under Auston’s arm. “Oh Y/n/n, I didn’t think you’d be home,” he stated surprised to see you standing in the middle of your living room. “Uh - this is Madd-”

“Payton,” she cut him with a distasteful look. Your eyebrows rose because man did your best friend know how to pick a girl. “Pleasure to meet you Y/n/n,” she basically spat in your direction.

Faking a smile you nodded, “Yeah sure.” Your attention now turned to Auston who was smiling down at something stupid on his phone. “What happened to helping me set up my room?” You asked genuinely hurt he had backed out of his word with you.

His brown eyes pulled up from the phone screen to meet your e/c ones. “‘M sorry Y/n. but I can still help you if you want.”

Your eyes rolled as you started the short walk back to your room. “Don’t bother helping, I already finished. Have fun with Maddy,” you huffed storming off to your room. From behind the closed door you could hear Payton asking what your deal was.

Maybe it would get better, it would get better. You’d have new friends, classes, and of course you’d have Auston with you. Oh and whatever girl he brought home.

#auston matthews x reader #and they were roommates: a series #best friends #Toronto Maple Leafs #and they were roommates #n-h-limagines masterlist #toronto maple leafs imagine #welcome home #a.matthews #auston matthews

[onegirlatelier]

La Toscana Shrug, August 2019

Of all the design elements out there, lace happens to be my comfort knitting option and white happens to be my favourite colour to knit with. Lace makes it airy, and white makes it light. A fairy project.

I hadn’t had a proper lace project since the Magnificat in G shawl in spring 2018, and didn’t have plans for any—though I longed for one—until I saw the original Arashi pattern. It was a large shawl, but somehow the repeats didn’t seem boring or too simple. It was something I would like to lay on or drink in with my eyes. I decided then that after a series of gift knits, it was time for some pleasure knitting.

I debated for the longest time whether to make a shawl or a shrug, and finally decided on a little shrug. Two reasons: the yarn was expensive and a shrug would take two skeins less than a shawl of the original size; a shrug would be both practical for a student (or an amateur ballet dancer) and fancy enough for a date. Despite the reduced number of lace repeats, it was still satisfactory and what I needed.

I am naming this shrug La Toscana, because the white and light earth tones remind me of this area in Italy. It is featured in a book about the cultures and interior design projects in Italy, and I have been dreaming of a trip to the country for as many years as I have owned the book. When I close my eyes, I can picture myself wearing the shrug over a dress dyed with marigold, strolling down the streets in southern Italy. I want to be far, far away from the current troubles in my life, and just relax and have a true conversation with my travel companion…my mother. We both have had a chaotic year and I miss being on a vacation with her.

So many sentiments packed into a single project. But that is exactly the purpose of making things for myself—to create anchors for memories and hopes which I don’t have the words to express.

Pattern

Arashi by Ema Marinescu. I only used the lace chart and it seemed clear enough. There is not a pdf file for the pattern, only a webpage on knitty.com. The layout of the webpage is not very neat, but that’s probably because I don’t like line-by-line written instructions (not even just seeing them.)

The smocking detail attracted me at first sight. I am not usually drawn to simple fan lace stitches, but when the smocking is placed right along the centre back, the large pattern repeats radiating from the CB resembles the dainty wings of a butterfly.

  Yarn

Quince & Co. Sparrow 100% linen, 155m/50g. It is composed of four strands of 2-ply linen yarns.

#233 Lunar 50g. (I have literally one metre left.) It is a bright white just as pictured on the website.

#256 Sea Salt 76g. It is more of a light toffee colour than the off-white colour shown.

A single pattern repeat (26 sts*24 rows) took 4g of yarn. The rectangle base of this shrug took about 34g #Lunar and 68g #Sea Salt. (See construction below for how I came to this estimation.)

The yarn was soft for linen and not hard on my fingers at all, but then I have a high tolerance and have knitted with pure wool yarn that was almost as tough as this linen one. It felt clean and crispy both during the knitting process and after blocking, though it indeed softened as advertised.

Environmental issues: linen is a durable fibre that requires relatively little water and energy to produce. For me, it makes less of a difference whether the linen is organic, but it’s nice to know that this one is. It’s also low maintenance and doesn’t require special care. The carbon footprint of the transportation process bothers me a little, though—the linen was grown (presumably) somewhere in Europe, made into yarn in Italy, shipped to the USA where the company is situated, and then to a stockiest in China, and finally to me in a different city. That was a lot of miles. I want to support the values of Quince & Co. and I do realise that global trade is inevitable, but I really should look harder for a better solution.

 This is my first linen project, and I wanted to invest in a good linen yarn to get the right impression and set the standard. Overall, I am really pleased with Sparrow and think it’s been worth my time and money.

  Needles

I used a 3.25mm circular for the rectangle and the rib for the cuffs. Then I used a 3.00mm circular for the rib on the body.

Finished Size

The main body is 30cm*70cm.

The ribbing for the neckline is 5.5cm wide, and the ribbing for the hem is 5cm wide.

  Construction

I first knitted a rectangle in flat as the main body. It was worked from the centre. For each half of the rectangle, I did two columns of lace in toffee and one column in white using intarsia. At first I did five repeats (24*5=120 rows) for each side, but then after I blocked the rectangle, I decided to shorten the width of the shrug. I ripped out a few rows and ended up with 102 rows (24*4+6) for each side.

I asked the pattern author on Ravelry and confirmed that her long stitch is one normal wrap plus an extra wrap, which means two wraps in the same stitch. She calls this ‘k1, elongated twice’, yet I have a feeling that it should be ‘k1, elongated once’. I’m not sure. I replied on my instinct and it did turn out fine.

Also when knitting the rectangle, I did a one-stitch stockinette on the white side and a three-stitch garter stitch on the toffee side, because I had intended to only add ribbing to the white side and leave the toffee side as it was. I ended up knitting a wide ribbing for the toffee side as well as the white side.

I kept the last row on each short side of the rectangle ‘live’. After it was blocked and I was happy with the width and length, I folded it and casted off the first and last few stitches of the shorter edge with a three-needle bind off, to sew this portion together. It didn’t even occur to me that I could’ve simply used a mattress stitch. Note: I wanted the pattern to align nicely, so I let the garter ridge hang there and bound off from the first stitch of the main pattern (a LS). I bound off ten stitches for each side of the seam.

Then I knitted about five rows of 1*1 rib to form the cuff.

After that, it was time to deal with the loose hem and neckline. At this time, the hem hanged away from my back and the neckline was far too wide. It was clear that a lot of short-row shaping was underway. I did short-row shaping in 1*1 rib, and picked up 3 stitches for every 4 stitches. For the shoulder parts, I picked up 2 stitches for every 3 stitches to make it snug.

I first did some short-row shaping for the hem using white yarn, and I picked up the live stitches of the toffee-coloured garter ridge as if doing a knitted border, whenever I got to the ‘side seam’. This means I knitted three complete rows of white after the short-row shaping was done.

Then I did the shaping for the neckline in toffee. I wanted my shoulders and the base of my neck to be covered, so there were more short rows on the neckline. After I finished with the shaping, I knitted the neckline and the hem together using intarsia. It wasn’t exactly knitted in the round…it was more of back-and-forth knitting, but it formed a round because of the intarsia. It was all very intuitive so I figured it out as I went.

Then I knitted one full round with white yarn to give the whole garment a shiny bright white edge, then I did invisible 1*1 rib cast off.

Before the final blocking, the neckline and the hem sat snug against my body. After the blocking (and some mishandling by a family member), they loosened a little. The hem now hangs a little away from my back, which is not ideal. It is a minor issue, though, so I am leaving it the way it is now and maybe try to re-block it later.

Further considerations

I’ll be honest: I still don’t know how to do a proper provisional cast on. When I need one, I just cast on like I usually do and knit a row, then join in the working yarn. I will definitely learn the correct method.

As mentioned, the ribbing loosened after blocking. If I were to do this again, I would go down another needle size to 2.75mm for the ribbing. Or I would just pick up 2 stitches for every 3 stitches through the neckline and the hem. I haven’t tried dancing in this shawl yet. I think it might need a few extra rows of ribbing to stay securely on my shoulders. (You can see from the comparison below how it gaped at the back of my neck after I did some stretching.)

Lastly, I would love to make a bigger version of this shrug, or use a lighter-weight yarn to make a full-sized shawl of the same pattern.

#Arashi #knitting #knitblr #stories #La Toscana

[velasnyx]

Emaziska 007 AU Sequel: Vindicta Chapter 5

We were parked in front of my mother's house. “Do you think she'll hate me?” I asked, staring at the house. “C'mon now. You really think she'd hate you?” Ema asked. “I let her believe I was dead. She technically had to bury me. What kind of mother deserves to bury her own daughter?” I asked. I felt so much guilt. After Ema came for me, I realized how terrible it was letting everyone believe I was gone. “Fran, I'm sure she'll be happy, seeing that you're alive”. I stared at the floor. “Whenever you're ready, Fran,” Ema said. I nodded. After a couple more minutes, I stepped out of the car. Ema and I walked to the door. To say I was nervous was an understatement. “Ready?”. I nodded. Ema knocked on the door. I started to panic. “I… I can't do this,” I said as I walked away. “What? Hold on a second!” Ema said. “Franziska?”. I stood there, frozen. “Franziska?” mom repeated. I heard her walk over to me. I turned to her. She had tears in her eyes. My mother hugged me tightly and cried. I wrapped my arms around her. She pulled away and looked at me. “You're alive. My God, I thought you were dead!” she said. “I know. I know, mom. I'm here, though. I'm still here,” I said. She hugged me again and held on for a while. She didn't let go. It was as if she was  afraid that if she did, she'd lose me all over again. I didn't blame her. To be honest, I shouldn't either.

L walked in. “Ema, what're you doing here? Everything alright?” she asked. Ema turned on the light and stepped to the side to reveal me. “Hope we didn't come at a bad time,” I said. L looked back at Ema. “You've got some explaining to do,” Ema said. “Explaining? What do I need to explain? You're the one who should be explaining, Franziska. Where the hell have you been?” L sneered. “Enjoying death. It was the only way I could get away from you,” I said. “Is that supposed to hurt me?”. I just stared at her. “Are you expecting an apology?” she asked. “What was it that you said? That you told your own sister to do? Take the bloody shot,” I sneered. “I made a judgement call. I did what I had to do to keep the rest of MI6, England, and your family safe”. “I had already fucking killed him by the time that bullet hit me. You didn't keep anyone safe. I fucking did!”. “Oh what, you want a medal?” she asked. I glared at her. “So what did you come here for? To chastise me? To make me feel bad? Good luck. I did what I had to do,” L added. “Is that your excuse? Rather poor one, don't you think?” I said. L rolled her eyes. “You're not here just because Ema dragged you out of whatever hole you were in. You know we need you”. “I figured that much. Besides, I've been away for too long,” I said. She just looked at me with a cold stare. “You'll have to be debriefed and declared fit for active service. The only way you'll return to duty is if you pass the test. I suggest you take them seriously. Especially with your current state. You look like shit,” L said. Wow, how nice. “I'll go home and try to freshen up”. “We sold your flat after your family gathered your belongings and put them in storage. You'll have to find a hotel. You sure as hell aren't staying here,” she said. As she walked to the stairs, she shot Ema a lingering glare. I'm sure she didn't appreciate her bringing me to her flat. Especially for a conversation like that. Ema walked over to me. “You can stay with me. I've got an extra bedroom at my flat,” she said. “You don't have to”. “Don't worry about it. I want to,” she said. “Thank you,” I said, staring at the floor. I felt ashamed. I don't want to burden her. We were about to leave when I stopped at the stairs. “What about my cat?” I asked L. “Miles has it. Now get out!” she called out from upstairs. “Let's go. You don't want to stick around while she's like this,” Ema said. I nodded.

I followed Ema into her flat. “I'll show you the spare room. Follow me,” she said. As I followed her to the spare room, I took in my surroundings. She had a few plants around the house. The cream colored wall were decorated with photos. I noticed a few of her and her sister with their parents. I remember when she told me about them. No wonder L is the way she is. She had to grow up way too fast. I guess I could relate. “Here it is”. It was a simple room, which was perfect. “I can't thank you enough, Ema. How can I ever repay you?”. She shook her head. “Don't worry about it. It's my pleasure, darling,” she said. I felt something in my chest when she called me darling. There was something about the way she said it that made me wish she'd say it again. “Get situated. I'll order some take-out,” she said. I nodded.

I sat and waited for the psychiatrist to come in. Is it really necessary to have this test? I thought the test were just physical. He walked in and sat across from me. “Hello, von Karma,”. “Hello”. “I'm going to give you some words and you tell me the first thing that comes to mind. Alright?” he said. I nodded. He cleared his throat. “Alright. Let's start with day”. “Wasted”. “Night”. “Mare”. “Morning”. “Drink”. “Head”. “Shot”. “L”. I looked at the mirror and smiled, knowing she was watching. “Bitch”. “007”. “Dog”. “Heart”. “Target”. “Faraday”. My smile faded and I fell silent. “Faraday,” he repeated. “Done,” I said. I got up and walked out.

We started the physical test. They hooked me up to a portable heart monitor. The first thing they had me do was run. Just three minutes in I could already feel my lungs burning. I really fucked myself over.  I was almost done when Miles walked in. “007, a lot has happened since you left. Would you like me to brief you on it now?” he asked. I nodded. “Very well. While you were gone, Debeste escaped,” Miles said. “Do you know… where he is?” I heaved. “Yes. Because he was killed. We found his body in the river. He was poisoned. We believe it was a slow acting poison which suggest that it was very personal,” he replied. “Hour's done, 007,” one of the test monitors said. I stepped off the treadmill and tried to catch my breath. “Any idea who might have done it?”. He shook his head. “But we found a ticket to Monaco on him. He goes there regularly and we found out why. He plays poker at the Gatewater Hotel and Casino,” Miles said. I raised a brow. “Poker?”. “Yes. The winner gets a hefty amount of money. He used it fund his terrorism acts. We found out he wasn't the only one. There's another we suspect,” Miles said. He showed me a picture of a man. He looked like your average guy but I guess that's what they would usually go for. “We have sit ups next. Your goal is one hundred,” the test monitor said. I got into position. “His name is Doug Swallow. He attends the poker games just as much as Debeste did. We suspect he deals in bioterrorism due to his pharmaceutical knowledge”. “How are sure he's a terrorist?” i asked. “Intel has seen him meet with a number of people from our most wanted. If we can get him out of the picture, it's one less thing to worry about”. “And you want me to do that by beating him in a game of poker?”. Miles nodded. “Not the most exciting mission, is it?” I said. “That all depends on you, Franziska. If trouble does manages to find its way to you, we have two agents already in Monaco. Skye will be accompanying you as well,” he said.

I did one last pull up. I couldn't do anymore. My arms were giving out and I could feel myself getting ill. As if that weren't enough, I could barely breathe. It felt like a ton of bricks were piled on my chest. The running, the sit ups, the push ups, everything; it was taking a toll on me. I leaned against the pole. “You want to do this another time?” Miles asked. I was trying to catch my breath. It would be best. I'm exhausted. “You know what? Let's”. Miles nodded. He left the room along with the test monitors. I slid down to the floor, my legs giving out. My whole body aches, my lungs burned, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I'm weak. I don't have the strength I used to and it's only been a few months. The injury along with alcoholism has wrecked my body. “Look at you,” a voice hissed. I snapped my head to the direction of the voice. Nobody. I was still alone. Maybe I'm just tired. I looked down at my feet. In the corner of my eye, I saw someone. I looked and once again saw nobody there. “So weak”. Everytime I looked the figure was gone. Is this real? “All the training and you're still so weak”. It was then that I realized who that voice belonged to. This can't be real. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see him. “I made you perfect and you decided to throw it away. You ruined yourself!”. I couldn't breathe. I felt like my heart was going a hundred miles per hour and I couldn't catch my breath. “Look at me!”. No, I won't. I don't want to see him. I don't want to open my eyes and see him. “Open your eyes and look at me!” he yelled. No, go away. Please, just go away. “C'mon, Fran. Look at me!”. That voice. It wasn't his. His was fading away. A female voice kept saying to open my eyes. When his voice had completely faded away, I opened my eyes. Ema was kneeling down in front of me. She looked worried. “Fran? Fran, breathe,” she said. I focused on returning my breathing to normal. I struggled but eventually caught my breath. “You alright?”. I nodded. Ema looked sad. “God, look what I've done to you,” she said. “No, don't say that. Please, Ema, don't take the blame for this,” I said. She frowned. I know she felt like she was to blame and I can't stand it. It hurts me knowing she feels guilty. “Look at me, Ema. I'm alive. Well, just barely but I'm alive,” I said, adding the joke in hope of lifting her spirits. She chuckled. “Please, don't feel guilty”. She nodded. “Do you need help?”. I shook my head. “I just need a couple minutes. I'll be fine,” I replied. She hesitated. “Don't worry,” I added. She nodded and left.

I struggled to take off the shirt. I stuck to button downs since the bullet in shoulder made it too painful to move it. When I took it off, I grabbed the my pocket knife. I looked at the scar in my shoulder and cut into the skin. When I was sure I cut deep enough, I extracted the bullet fragments and sealed them in a bag. Ema knocked on my door. I placed a towel to the incision and opened the door. “Yes?”. “Miles just gave me some new intel on Swallow. What happened to you?” Ema said. I removed the towel. “Removed the bullet fragments. I want to run ballistics on them,” I answered. “You need help stitching the cut?” she asked. I raised a brow. “I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you sticking a needle through my skin,” I joked. She rolled her eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be fearless, 007,” she said. She walked away and I followed her. “Sit down. I'll be back”. I sat on the ottoman in front of her bed. She walked into the bathroom. I kept the towel on the cut. She returned with a first aid kit and a needle and thread. She sat across from me and started working on the wound. “You've done this before?”. She smiled. “Are you going to keep being a nervous nelly or are you going to let me do this? I've done this more times than I can count. I've got the scars to prove it,” Ema said. “Do you now? Will I be able to see that for myself?” I said. She chuckled. “Don't get ahead of yourself”. I smiled at her. I winced as the needle pierced my skin. It didn't hurt as bad as I thought though. I suppose she had a special touch. “I'll feel better when I find out that bullet didn't belong to me,” she said. Her smile had faded. “I'm here, Ema,” I said, trying to ease her guilt. “I know but I can't help but feel guilty. You're alive but that bullet has affected you in more ways than one”. “The bullet probably isn't from your gun. You didn't do this to me,” I said. She finished stitching the cut. I felt her finger caressed the area of the bullet wound. “I… I don't want to lose you again”. I could barely hear her even with our faces being centimeters away. Her voice was so soft. “You won't,” I said, my voice just as soft. I caressed her jaw with my thumb. “I…”. No, don't say it. Don't. Have you forgotten what happened to her? I can't take that risk again. I closed the gap with a soft kiss. When we parted, she wasted no time coming back in for more. She straddled me. I unbuttoned her shirt and kissed her chest and neck. My fingers caressed her back. “Fran,” she said, breathlessly. I felt her hands run through my hair. If you told me that her and I would end up like this back when I first met her, I'd say you were mad. I never thought we would get close at all. I couldn't even see us being friends. After our interactions at my mother's, when I really got to know her, things changed. My whole perspective of her changed. The phone rang. She groaned in annoyance. She pulled away from me. “I suppose I'll have to see your scars some other time,” I said as I caressed her midsection. She smiled. “I'm afraid so,”. She got up to answer the phone. I went to my room to put on a shirt.

I jolted awake, gasping for air. Looking around, I realized it was just a nightmare. Another fucking nightmare. I've never experienced this. Maybe it was because it was my father but I wanted him dead. Maybe it's the past. Maybe killing him wasn't enough. Now his death haunts me. Us 00s, we're cold blooded. We have a license to kill and we don't hesitate to pull the trigger. It's so easy to take a life. It's just as easy as breathing. And living with it is just as easy too. That's why we're picked to be 00s. We knows it's just business. It's just another job. It's our duty for as long as we serve in Her Majesty's Secret Service. All this training but I'm still haunted by him. Why? I hated him so why? He made my life a living hell so why am I plagued with guilt? Fucking why?! My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a faint sound of sobbing coming from Ema's room. I went over to her door and knocked. She didn't answer. I opened the door just a crack. “Ema?”. “Oh, Fran. You need something,” she answered, her voice a bit shaky. “May I come in?” I asked. It was dark but I could see her nod her head against the moonlight. I walked over to her. She was sitting at the edge of her bed. “I'm sorry if I woke you,” Ema said. “Don't worry. It wasn't you that woke me. You alright?” I said. “Just a nightmare”. “I guess we have that in common”. She scooted over on the bed. “You want to talk about it?” she asked. I sat down next her. “No. I think you've heard enough of my problems. What about you?”. She stared at the floor. I didn't press her for answers. I know opening up is hard so I waited patiently and if she didn't want to say anything, I get that too. But I'll be there for her. It's the least I can do to repay her for all she's done for me. “It's the same nightmare every time. I'm just back at the mountainside, squeezing the trigger. And I watch you fall right off that cliff. Just like back then,” Ema said. Her voice was shaky. You could tell she was holding back. “I could barely look at myself in the mirror. I couldn't stand myself. I couldn't stand what I did. I thought I killed you and it destroyed me”. She broke. Tears ran down her cheeks. “It hurt so much,” she cried. I wrapped an arm around her and comforted her as she weeped.

#emaziska #franziska von karma #ema skye #emaziska au #ace attorney au #emaziska 007 au

[eobot-cryptocurrency-news]

December 24, 2018 at 07:29AM Overview of the 5 important actors of cryptography: Bitcoin Cash, IOTA, TRON, Bitcoin SV, DASH

Crypto-currencies as an asset class are maturing and carve their very non-public home of curiosity. Whereas stock markets have had their worst week thus far 10 years, cryptography markets have rebounded sharply, displaying early indicators of restoration.

Nonetheless, after the massive destruction of wealth all yr, it would in all probability take just some rebound to substantiate the beginning of a model new uptrend. Although these rebounds are an outstanding completely totally different for short-term retailers, retailers should hunt for big draw as soon as extra formations that mark the beginning of an uptrend.

After the preliminary rebound, retailers will seek for indicators of fundamentals enchancment. forward of arising with new money. As a consequence of this actuality, although the rebound is a optimistic sign, it’s nonetheless not a clear signal. Let’s try the right 5 performers this week.

BCH / USD

Bitcoin purchases had been huge throughout the midst of the week. It turned out that the best-performing cryptocurrency was largely outdated. This rise helped to maneuver as fairly a bit as fourth place relating to market capitalization.

Nonetheless, forward of the start of the rally, the worth of Bitcoin Cash was exceeded by Ethereum for the first time in its historic earlier, which reveals the sort of injury introduced on to the bear. market and the arduous fork had on it. After the most recent restoration, what does it shield contained within the near future? Let’s uncover out.

We’re going to solely take into account the interval following the ultimate phrase arduous fork. November 15 on the acute of 451.35 USD, the pair BCH / USD plunged to 73.5 USD on December 15, which corresponds to an intraday trough. It’s a decline of 83.71% over a month. Since cryptography markets are terribly unstable, we nonetheless advocate searching for and promoting with the utilization of stop loss.

The precept sample stays to be down, nonetheless the short-term sample seems to be altering. The 20-day EMA begins to look and the RSI will in all probability be in optimistic territory, which validates our outlook.

Nonetheless, even after the most recent retreat, cryptocurrency has solely retraced that nearly 50% of the ultimate phrase fall. We anticipate sturdy resistance at $ 262.43 due to the 50-day ADM will in all probability be at this stage.

If BCH didn’t yield tons flooring inside the subsequent few days, it’d counsel sturdy assist for getting at these ranges. If the rises shield the worth above the 20-day EMA, the opportunity of a rally will enhance to $ 307.01, which corresponds to a Fibonacci retracement of the 61.eight% drop .

Nonetheless, if bears rush as shortly as additional and sink beneath 20 days of the EMA, prices can drop to their lows.

IOTA / USD

The IOTA Foundation and Audi teams launched the outcomes of their five-month endeavor to a particular viewers. The objective was to go searching choices to real-world elements contained within the areas of mobility, the Internet of Components and the automotive enterprise.

The IOTA Foundation launched a model new hash function named “Troika”, developed by CYBERCRYPT. Although she has achieved pretty just some cycles of examination, the inspiration has opened her to most individuals for evaluation. The group or the one who cracks it could accurately win € 200,000.

The IOTA / USD pair has misplaced pretty just some flooring since its file of $ 5.88 recorded in December of ultimate yr. After peaking, the worth fell to $ zero.2051 on December 7, when purchases emerged.

Although the worth rebounded about 77% from the lows, it’s nonetheless about 94% lower than the current worth. . This confirms that the precept sample is downward, nonetheless there are indicators of change contained within the short-term sample.

The EMA at 20 days started exhibiting, and the RSI is contained within the optimistic territory, which signifies that bulls have the upper hand contained within the transient time interval. In the interim, the restoration goes by way of a 50-day SMA resistance, which is down.

If bulls are inclined to deflate, a change at $ zero.4037 adopted by a rebound at $ zero.5095 is more likely to be going. Nonetheless, if the worth drops from current ranges, he might uncover assistance on the 20-day EMA. A break on this assist can convey the digital overseas cash appropriate correct all the way in which right down to $ zero.25 and beneath $ zero.2051.

Retailers who shield prolonged positions on the underside ranges can reserve partial earnings and pull out of the game on the remaining place. Others, who’re able to buy, can wait until the underside stage is formed forward of leaping to buy.

TRX / USD

The number of TRON accounts on the Mainline has exceeded 900,000, an infinite milestone. Its group has continued to develop even contained within the bear market and has now processed greater than 100 million transactions. Will the rising numbers end in a bigger worth? Let’s uncover out by discovering out the weekly chart of the pair.

The TRX / USD pair exited the resistance of one of the best and as shortly as additional penetrated the fluctuate of zero.01587681 – zero.02990592 USD. The worth had remained on this fluctuate since mid-August forward of falling four weeks to date.

Nonetheless, the bears had been unable to capitalize on the breakdown and convey down the worth. Aggressive purchases at lower ranges pushed up the worth contained within the fluctuate. This confirms that the markets have rejected the underside ranges.

The digital overseas cash can now rally to the next resistance at zero.02990592 USD. We anticipate this stage to behave as a big obstacle for bulls. Nonetheless, as shortly as this line is crossed, the cryptocurrency ought to begin out a model new uptrend.

Nonetheless, if the worth stays above $ zero.01587681, this usually is a likelihood to buy. The downtrend will resume if the bears lower the pair beneath $ zero.01089965.

BSV / USD

At one stage, Bitcoin SV and Bitcoin Cash had been searching for and promoting at merely $ 10. Nonetheless, the next restoration of the two encrypted currencies allowed Bitcoin Cash to make speedy progress. Will Bitcoin SV catch up or will its effectivity diverge? Let’s check out what it’s.

The BSV / USD pair has been searching for and promoting since November 26 between $ 80,352 and $ 123.98. The unfold on December 13th was transient. This case reveals that the markets have rejected the underside ranges.

The rebound that adopted launched the worth as quickly as additional to the high quality. Efforts to interrupt out of the fluctuate failed on December 20 and 21. Nonetheless, a optimistic sign is that the digital overseas cash has not purchased tons, which is proof of assist for the acquisition.

If the worth stays above $ 100, the bulls usually tend to come back again out of the fluctuate as shortly as as shortly as additional. If worthwhile, the next upward objective is $ 167,608.

Conversely, if the cryptocurrency doesn’t maintain to get out of the fluctuate, it’d slide down. The brackets are appropriate correct all the way in which right down to $ 80,352 and $ 65,031.

DASH / USD

Dash was a big contributor to the Venezuelan financial system. About 2,500 Venezuelan retailers accept Dash funds, which represents greater than half of the 4,500 retailers worldwide who accept it.

Not too strategy once more, Church’s Hen consuming locations started accepting Dash funds in Venezuela. With the rise in recognition, it isn’t lovely that Dash’s companion, Kriptomobile, has managed to advertise 53,000 KRIP telephones in Venezuela.

The sample of the DASH / USD pair is clearly downward. The change is one-sided due to it peaked at $ 1,625 in December 2017. This week the worth had risen to 56%, after reaching $ 56,214 last week. Although the rebound is spectacular, it might truly’t be thought-about a change in sample.

For the sample to fluctuate, the worth should stabilize, choice a necessary pattern after which signal a reversal of the sample. If purchases proceed, the decline can attain $ 120, then $ 160.80 from the beginning of the current downtrend.

On the draw as soon as extra, the assistance is at $ 80 and beneath $ 60. . The downtrend will resume if the bears lower the digital overseas cash beneath $ 56,214. Although short-term retailers could journey this alteration elevated, retailers ought to attend until a model new shopping for for configuration appears on the weekly chart forward of building new prolonged positions.

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[cilowexi-blog]

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If you have already experienced an e-mail like info@ οr business office@ and wish to go the property owner- this can certainly deflintety helр.” Courtney Kostelecky “One associated with the greatest issues is attempting to feed thе gatekeeрer. This permits we bypaѕs this gatеkeeper and move on to the perѕon in charge immediately. For all of us. this simply means extra sales plus a much better possibility of acquiring your work to the right individual regarding the try that is first. Exactly what a very good plan Ankur. Lοve love lоve this.” Valerie Jennings “Email Findr may be the program most of the màrketing profеssíonnals lost until now. It's the correct thought fof the work that is right. a small concept at their bégining : then create that? It's very nеcеcéssary once the designer made it than everyone will certainty raise himself аnd evérÀoÁ why that don't occur for the very long time in days gone by. Exactly that it own tobe ideal for a awesome potential. Consider : application which locates your client and directed him or her THΕ send wh&#EmailFindr0;cch she will recognize without contemplate it since a s spam. scan and probaby do something. SUPERB certainly is the word that is unique meet the requirements thís software.” Ràymond Poulier “That is just a realÀ huge fantastic idea and should I are unable to have a totally free content how ćan І start getting оnе we appreciate that you for ones timе and I would personally ensure love to hаve a duplicate of that” Floyd Abbott “hey Ankur, you have got nailed unique features once more. I have been shopping for àn e-mail computer software for the time that looks long is simple to use.Features líke junk e-mail additives.dude emails checkѕ for the listings certainly are a rob and can dеfinite/ assist in my personal email message advertising campáigns. That I need to find someone's email who I either met or spoke with (but we didn't exchange contact info) and so many other, similar situations wish you had offered this software ages ago!!” Deban Banerjee Conclusion According to Dr.Sameer Joshi - Consultant, Coach & Internet Marketer: “How often have I myself faced the situation. Thats really why this iѕ á mindblowing device! Recently I think it’s great after problems that are real resolved and that is certainly what EmailFindr doеs.” Speedíng ahead means of finding small business e-mails gets easier as a result of popular features of EmailFindr. It’s rapidly, simple to use software and it may make it easier to keep your occasion. Then sígnup &àmр; get instant aćcess and you’ll know thát it's value your money. It’s all of my personal EmailFindr analysis and many thanks for their browsing. 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