#camera backpack sale

[reilikeslifting]

This is the person who just did their first lift, I totally forgot to ask but, do you have any tips for new lifters ^^

of course! and congrats!!!

new l!fting tip #1: tumblr 101

no tags!!! do not tag ur posts, it makes it easier for non-l!fters to find and report l!fters

censor out brands and l!fting terms!! such as dn@, 3B, etc. (dn@ is did not arrive and 3B is empty box!!! different l!fting methods)

never ever put any defining objects in your photos if you are gonna post! make sure its the haul and ONLY the haul.

remove exif data from your photos so they can’t be traced, personally i dont do think bc im lazy but you should!

don’t put your total in your bio! i used to do this bc i liked to tell ppl i saved $20k-$30k over the year but it’s not smart to flaunt that you’re over the felony limit!

next, #2: how to lyft

so you’ve already completed your first lyft (woohoo proud of u!!) but how can you go about being safer and smarter?

my first tip is always scan the school for cameras! be sneaky tho don’t like just stare at the ceiling, but yk get a feel for how many cameras, what type, and what direction they’re facing. most places are gonna have the dome cameras, those are the worst because they see in every direction. always always try to body block if possible. either get someone else to block you or duck behind something while you’re concealing. better to not be caught on cam!!

nobody in that store is your friend, remember that. always assume that customers are plain clothes LP (disguised security) and always assume that sales associates WILL rat you out. don’t think “oh well it’s just me and one other person in the aisle it’ll be fine” because it’s gonna be the one time it’s not fine.

on that note, be kind to everyone. this isn’t just a lyfting tip it’s a rule i live by but just be kind. they’re gonna suspect you much less if you smile and answer questions and compliment them if you feel so inclined, just be a nice person. i believe this is one of the reasons i’ve never been caught, i’m just very friendly.

concealing!!! where to conceal? i personally like using my bag most often. your bag is important too!!! i use one off amazon (you can type like kawaii heart school bag and it’ll pop up, its black and has a big heart cut out for pins) but i dont have any pins because i dont want it to be too identifiable. its purse enough for people not to tell me to take it off (a lot of places don’t allow backpacks) but big enough to fit a LOT of stuff. structured bags are always a good idea too! that way people won’t be able to tell if you’ve put anything in there. i like to conceal in aisles without cameras most often, but if i have to body block sometimes i’ll put stuff up my sleeves first! another idea is to use a shopping bag from another store. this way people will think you’ve just already bought stuff! the target ones are my favorite since they’re opaque<3

onto the next section, #3: all about tags

de-tagging is definitely a more experienced lyfting practice but you can definitely start with rfids!!

rfids are gonna be the little metal wires in plastic, paper, or sticker tags. these are very common and you’ll see them at places like w4lmart or t4rget. these are easily removable by either cutting them off or disabling them with a magnet. you don’t NEED any tools while lyfting, but some of them can come in handy. if you do find yourself with a magnet, to disable rfids you just need to swipe your magnet against the tag. if you don’t have one, simply cut the metal wire in half. you can use scissors or nail clippers or cuticle nippers or whatever you might have!! if you can’t cut them, simply remove them and i personally stick the tag in the pocket of a really ugly item on clearance so that it hopefully goes unfound for a while!

hard tags! hard tags are any tag from the solid tags you find usually on clothes to spider tags you find on electronics or wire tags on jewelry at hot topic, etc. these all require tools to remove. some will require a magnet, others will require hooks, but it’s definitely worth looking into if you decide to branch out on your journey.

brief mention, #3.5: booster bags!

booster bags are small bags lined with many layers of foil to prevent signals from reaching the towers. just in case you didn’t know, towers are the tall sensors by the front door when you walk in! with a booster bag, you can put any kind of tagged item you want, zip it up, and walk out without beeping. you need many layers however!! the way to test if your bag works it by putting your cell phone in there and asking someone to call you. if the call goes through, there aren’t enough layers!! once the call doesn’t go through you’re set! this however is a more advanced trick so please be careful if you’re gonna try this!

lastly, #4 online “shopping”!

so you’ve heard of dn4ing or empty boxes, well lemme tell you what it all means! did not arrive is when you purchase an item, wait for it to arrive, and then message the carrier and tell them it never arrived. typically our goal here is to get a refund, but any times they wont be as easily persuaded and you’ll end up with a replacement instead. however it’s not impossible and many places are easier others. if you think you wanna try this, she!n or am4zon are a good place to start!! if she!n opens an investigation, it’s just a bluff, go with it!

empty box is another form of online lyfting, it’s when you tell the carrier that your item arrived with nothing in it. the process is similar to the first one, message the carrier etc. however just claim that it’s an empty box!

I HOPE ALL THESE TIPS HELPED PLS LET ME KNOW<333 LOVE YOU GUYS STAY HEALTHY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES

[kittymaine]

Mattress Store

Summary: Are mattress stores all fronts? Why are there so many of them? Why does it suck so much to buy a mattress?

The bat boys discuss.

*****

Dick’s life was perfectly comfortable, if maybe not exactly what he would have expected for himself when he was a kid.

He had his own apartment, he ran free gymnastics and yoga classes in his spare time, and had a complicated on again off again relationship with his long time girlfriend. He was also the general manager of a mattress store, one of the most comfortable if also the most boring job he had had since he turned eighteen.

Being called the general manager sounded a lot more impressive than it was. He only had one full time employee and one part time employee that he had to keep track of. Running the store itself was incredibly easy compared to some other management positions he’d held before. The only somewhat frustrating part of the job was that his boss had recently asked him to pick up his son from the nearby elementary school and keep him at the shop until he could come to pick him up. Maybe if it was a different kid it would have been fine, but Damian was one of the most prickly and surly kids Dick had ever met. Luckily, Dick had never met a kid he didn’t like.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think that was true for the rest of the employees at the shop.

Damian pushed through the front door of the shop, the bell above the door giving a cheery ‘ping!’ as he did so. The inside of Mattress Deals looked the same as it always did. Bare mattresses lined up in rows and columns on top of stained and scratchy carpet that probably hadn’t been replaced since 1996 topped with water stained drop ceiling tiles and big salt grimed floor to ceiling windows. The two other employees of the store were sitting at the back of the showroom floor at the only desk visible from the front.

Dick hurried after Damian carrying his backpack that felt like it held at least five encyclopedia volumes. What were they teaching these kids in that fancy academy?

Dick almost ran into the back of Damian halfway to their destination, having to skip around him to stop a collision. Damian had stopped to stare imperiously at the other two employees, tiny fists on his hips and nose in the air already wrinkled in distaste.

“I see that you two drawlatches are still managing to slack off on my father’s dime,” Damian sneered at the two other men in the shop.

“What the fuck is a drawlatch?” Tim asked without looking up from his phone. He put as much disdain on the last word as possible without actually moving his face.

Tim was their only part time employee. He attended Gotham U full time and was majoring in Computer Science, apparently to the great scorn of his father. Dick didn’t really know what the whole deal was there and honestly it wasn’t any of his business. Tim was a viciously efficient sales person, which more than made up for his weird personality. Despite being part time, he made the most commissions of any of them.

“A guest who overstays their welcome,” Jason replied dryly, turning the page of his book also without looking up at Damian.

Jason was their only full time employee. He was only a few years older than Tim, but already had a felony on his record which made it pretty hard for him to find work. Another thing that really wasn’t any of Dick’s business, but Mr. Wayne had assured him that Jason’s felony was from when he was very young, almost criminally young to have a felony attached to his record. Either way, Mr. Wayne trusted him and Jason was always on time. That’s all Dick could really ask of him.

“Wow, fuck you too, Gremlin,” Tim drawled, holding his phone up briefly as the tinny artificial shutter sound of the camera on his phone went off.

Damian snarled, “Did you just take my photograph?!”

“It’s called a pic. Are you sure you’re not like a hundred?” Tim sighed.

“Okay, okay!” Dick intervened, physically stepping in front of Damian when he started to stomp toward Tim. The last time the two of them had tussled across the store it had ended with Tim sporting a bloody nose and Damian with a split lip. He wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance explaining something like that to his boss. “I know you’re all happy to see each other, but I need to get Damian set up at the desk so he can work on his homework.”

Damian clicked his tongue and dodged around Dick, but luckily he made his way toward the desk that Jason was lounging at rather than charging at Tim. Jason got up out of the chair and flopped down on a nearby mattress without once looking up from his book. Obediently, Damian got out his books and worksheets and pulled one of the pencils from his pencil case and started to work on filling out his worksheets.

Sighing, Dick rubbed a calloused hand through his hair. He cast a glance out over the store, but it was empty as usual. It was three o’clock on a Thursday, so it wasn’t like he was expecting a rush anyway. A few old sun bleached SALE! signs hanging from the ceiling floated in the slight breeze from the central air units. The only noise was the quiet scratch of Damian’s pencil, the muted tap of Tim’s thumbs on his phone screen and the occasional flap of a page turning from Jason. Stretching backward, Dick bent until he felt a few of vertebra pop satisfyingly before retreating to the broom closet that he charitably called his office. It was barely two steps from Damian, but at least there was a wall shielding him from the rest of the store.

The peace barely lasted for fifteen minutes before Damian seemed unable to help himself.

“How much work have either of you actually done today?” Damian shouted, slamming his pencil down as if the quiet of the store infuriated him. Dick put his forehead down on his desk and prayed for someone to set the store on fire or something. Not like a big dangerous fire. Just dangerous enough to close the store for like a week or something. A nice relaxing paid renovation, that sort of thing.

“Sooooo much work,” Tim moaned with a completely straight face.

“I’ve worked so hard today. I’m completely wiped,” Jason agreed, not looking up from his book.

Damian jumped to his feet in a fit of pique. “You terrible people dare to leech off my father like this! Off of his kindness and charity! As if anyone else would dare to laze about on the job!”

“Jesus, calm down. It’s just a front. Who cares,” Tim said with a roll of his eyes.

Jason snorted from behind his book, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“Guys,” Dick moaned. He wished Tim wouldn’t bait Damian constantly. He understood the temptation, he too was once a surly teenager or at least hung around them. Damian was such a fiery little guy that it was incredibly easy to wind him up. But, Tim didn’t have to deal with the hours of grumping, and growling, and fussing that came after.

Damian made a high pitched noise of outrage and looked at Tim as if he had just taken a shit right on his cat.

“My father’s business is not a front for money laundering!” Damian screeched.

“Oh, come on,” Tim said, finally putting his phone away and giving Damian his full attention. “There’s another Mattress Deals right across the street. What reason would there be to have two of the exact same store so close together?”

“Unless you don’t have to worry about competition,” Jason whispered from behind his book.

Dick threw Jason a dirty look, but he just grinned back at him with his uncomfortably pointy incisors.

“The store across the street used to be a Sealy’s and corporate bought them out last year. That’s why there’s two of the same store so close together,” Dick said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Exactly,” Damian said with a nod. “There is a more than reasonable explanation. It’s just that the two of you are buffoons who are jumping to the worst conclusions.”

“Well, how about the inventory then. When was the last time you saw one of these mattresses actually sell?” Tim asked with an arched brow.

Damian was not cowed however. “I know for a fact that this store is one of father’s most successful. In fact, I’ve heard him say that it is the store with the most units sold in his region,” Damian said with an imperious tilt of his chin.

“Exactly,” Tim said, pointing one long pale finger at Damian. “So, why are most of these mattresses older than me?”

“Tim,” Dick said in exasperation.

“It’s true,” Jason said with a mischievous grin, finally putting aside his book and sitting up. “This mattress has the same stain on it from when I dropped chili on it the first week I started here.”

“Jason! There’s a stain on it?!” Dick yelped, jumping to his feet to inspect the mattress that Jason was still reclining on.

“Yeah,” Jason said with the same inflection that most people said ‘duh’. “I just pull the little velvet logo thing over it so people don’t see it,” Jason explained, pulling aside the long dark blue velvet strip of fabric with the manufacturer’s name and logo that wrapped around the lower half of the mattress. There indeed was a rusty red stain in the lower left corner.

“Jason, what the hell,” Dick whispered as he rubbed at the the stain with his thumb, despite knowing that it was years old.

“What? I was new. I didn’t know if you’d fire me or what,” he said with a shrug. “Now I know that you bitches don’t even pay for these things,” Jason kicked the side of the mattress he was sitting on with a dirty steel toe boot and the cheap metal frame groaned dangerously.

“You don’t pay for them?” Damian asked, his fury momentarily derailed into honest confusion, his little angry face instead twisted into befuddlement.

“No. The manufacturers give the stores free mattresses to display,” Tim said with a lopsided close mouth smile that looked like he was holding back laughter.

“If you knew that, why did you imply that the floor models didn’t change because the store made no legitimate sales?” Damian barked, his fury building back.

“Because sitting here all day doing nothing is mind numbing and riling you up is the only break I have from the monotony,” Tim deadpanned.

Damian made a strangled whistling sound in the back of his throat like a teakettle getting ready to boil. Dick swept in, turning Damian with a gentle press of his shoulder to get him to focus on him instead of Tim. See again, bloody nose / busted lip encounter.

“We’re just a showroom. All the actual product is stored in warehouses. People come here to try out the mattresses and make the payment and then we coordinate the delivery with the warehouse. That’s all. Nothing nefarious there,” Dick explained with his best soothing manager smile and voice. It didn’t usually work on customers, no matter how much Mr. Wayne assured Dick that he was very reassuring and charming. Luckily, Damian was still eleven and so it seemed to soothe him well enough.

“So, then there is a reasonable explanation for everything. This store is not a front,” Damian mumbled, sticking out his lower lip in a mulish expression as he seemed to turn all this information over in his head.

“Who said this store was a front?” a rumbling voice asked from the front door, the bell chiming halfway through the sentence.

Dick turned around to see his boss, the regional manager of Mattress Deals, Mr. Wayne, walking through the front door. He looked tired and harried, but that was his default expression.

“Father!” Damian exclaimed in excitement. He dodged around Dick and seemed ready to throw himself at his father’s middle, but apparently caught himself a bare second before he launched himself off the ground. He balanced on the balls of his feet for a fraught second, while Mr. Wayne put out his arms to catch him in case he toppled. But, Damian found his balance and bounced back into a straight backed stance and quickly tucked his hands into the small of his back.

In a much more somber (if somewhat embarrassed) tone, he said, “Father, you have returned early.”

Mr. Wayne very slowly moved his hands from where they hand been held out to catch Damian, one going to the back of his head to mess up his already ruffled dark hair and the other to his hip. It was an awkward movement that didn’t fool anyone and seemed completely for Damian’s benefit.

“Yes…” he said slowly, then blinked and seemed to come back to his normal monotone. “Yes, I had intended to do a quarterly evaluation of the east side store today, but it burnt down.”

“What?” Jason laughed, elated.

“What?!” Dick gasped, aghast.

“Fucking unfair,” Tim muttered to his phone screen. “Some bitches have all the luck.”

“Yes… Well,” Mr. Wayne said awkwardly. “The police are investigating it as a case of suspected arson. I’m sure they have it well in hand. In the mean time, I can’t very well assess their finances if all their paper records just went up in smoke.”

“Geez, did everyone get out okay?” Dick asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he nervously considered all the planes of foam and fabric surrounding them.

“Yes, everyone evacuated before smoke was even detected. Someone pulled the fire alarm,” Mr. Wayne said, putting a reassuring hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“Hence, the suspected arson,” Tim sighed.

“Yes,” Mr. Wayne agreed with a frown.

“I guess a mattress store would catch fire pretty quickly,” Dick said slowly and uncertainly.

“Mattresses are actually treated to be highly flame retardant,” Mr. Wayne recited dryly. “The internal layers are interspersed with flame retardant material and some fabrics are treated with boric acid to make them more flame resistant.” Turning to Tim, he added darkly, “The fire started in the break room and didn’t spread much further.”

“And those ungrateful bastards even had a break room,” Tim hissed back theatrically.

Tossing Tim a wry smile, Mr. Wayne put an arm around Damian’s shoulder. His small son, proud though he was, seemed to soak in the affection, leaning into his father’s side unselfconsciously. He led him back to the desk and helped him start to pack away his homework supplies.

“We were just discussing how all mattress stores are a front,” Jason said with a mischievous grin as he lounged on the chili stained mattress that Dick was realizing was the one he usually sat on if the desk was occupied. It was also the mattress that Dick had to clean most often out of all the ones in the store.

Mr. Wayne’s mouth pulled into a similar smile at the leading statement. “I think looking in from outside it makes sense,” he said slowly. “But, that’s only because people don’t understand how incredibly lucrative mattress sales are.”

“I did not know that, Father,” Damian said stiffly, a textbook clutched to his chest. He stared up at Mr. Wayne with restrained curiosity as his father tucked his unaccountably cute dog patterned pencils into his also incredibly cute cat patterned pencil case.

“Oh, yes. Mattresses enjoy the highest markup of all furniture items,” Mr. Wayne explained as he continued to pack his son’s school supplies away. “A mattress usually costs between $75-$150 to manufacture, because the materials used are very cheap. However, because it’s a purchase that most consumers only have to go through every ten years or so, because it’s a purchase they likely have put off until they have to get a mattress quickly, and because the used market is practically non-existent, mattress sellers can basically pick their price point.”

“That is…” Damian’s face was making some entertaining fluctuations between horrified and impressed.

“Almost criminal,” Tim added when it didn’t look like Damian would come up with anything.

“My father is not a criminal!” Damian was quick to snap.

“Well,” Mr. Wayne said with a shrug. “That’s business, I think.”

Tim snorted and let himself slide off the mattress and onto the nasty carpet below.

“And, we can all be grateful for it, because it’s the reason we all have a job! Right, guys?” Dick said loudly.

“Yes, boss,” Jason and Tim chorused like two recalcitrant school children.

“And I, as always, am grateful for all the great work you all put in. Keep up the good work and please do not burn the place down,” Mr. Wayne said with a long suffering laugh.

“You got it, boss,” Dick said with a laugh.

“Apparently these bitches don’t burn anyway,” Jason said with a suspicious look at the mattress he was sitting on.

“Get us a break room and I’ll think about it,” Tim said from the floor.

“It was lovely talking to you all. Dick, feel free to close up early if business is dead,” Mr. Wayne said with a sympathetic glance around the empty storefront.

“Sir, yes sir,” Dick said with an enthusiastic salute.

“What do you say to take out for dinner?” Mr. Wayne asked Damian with an indulgent look down at his little scowling face.

His big green eyes got bigger. “From White Elephant?” he asked hopefully.

“I can never say no to their samosas,” Mr. Wayne agreed with a pleased grin.

Damian practically skipped out the front door, his father following behind him with his son’s small red backpack slung over his forearm.

The second the door closed, Tim’s head popped up from below a nearby mattress. Dick suppressed an unmanly screech only at the last second. That was not the mattress that Tim had slid off of. How had he gotten so close so quietly?

“So… We’re closing now right?” he asked with a face that said he absolutely saw Dick flinch.

“Guys, it’s not even four,” Dick sighed. “Tim, you’ve been here for like an hour.”

“But, you’ll pay me for my whole shift, right?” Tim asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I want to go see the Barbie movie before it leaves theaters,” Jason put in.

“You’ve already seen it like a dozen times,” Dick said aghast.

“It’s a feast for the eyes! A distillation of our culture! A tour de force-” Jason began to go off.

“Let the man see his Barbie movie, Dick!” Tim shouted from somewhere around Dick’s ankles.

“Oh my god!” Dick groaned at the ceiling. A sad gray water damaged ceiling tile looked back at him indifferently, like the uncaring god that put him in charge of these two fuckos. “Okay, god. Yes. Go.”

“Finally!” Jason exclaimed and jumped to his feet, shoving his paperback into his back pocket and already making his way toward the exit.

“Yay~” Tim sang somehow making it sound like the most sarcastic yay that any teenager had ever said. Dick didn’t see him emerge until he popped to his feet a few feet from the glass doors.

After the two of them had disappeared out the front door, Dick walked around trying to clean up and put things away. Not that there was much to tidy. They hadn’t had a customer all day.

As he was straightening up the small desk in the back, he laid eyes on the old desk lamp. It was a classic with a basic incandescent bulb, the kind that got pretty hot after you left it on for a while.

Dick stared at it thoughtfully. He looked back at the chili stained mattress beside the desk. The mattress was so close to the desk that if someone bumped the desk hard enough, the lamp could easily fall onto the mattress.

As Dick stepped out of the front door for the night, he looked back at the mattress, the bright desk lamp glowing faintly where the bulb lay right against that damn chili stain.

“We’ll see how flame retardant you are,” he muttered. Then, he turned and locked the door behind him before sprinting for his car. He wondered if Barbara would want to make up with him that night. He could always buy some nice flowers and chocolates and give it a try.

#batfam #fanfiction #alternate universe #no capes au #mattress store au #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #money laundering #kittywrites

[mxtantrights]

famous dc!au (dick's version)

TRACK FIVE:  NEVER SEEN ANYTHING “QUITE LIKE YOU” 

You looked over your reflection in the mirror once more. You can’t believe it. You’re standing in the dressing room of one of the most expensive boutiques in Beverly Hills and the only ones with you are Dick and a few sales associates. 

More over, this dress was so sparkly and bright. You’ve never wore something with this much beads and glitter. Sure there was that diva phase you went through in middle school. But all that  glitter was limited to sneakers and backpacks. 

“Okay first option is on!” you say.

Dick is sitting right outside on a blue velvet chair. He had been given fancy finger food to munch on while you got situated and tried on options. You had half the mind to ask him to hand you something while you were in the changing room. But then you thought about how grease might end up in a place is shouldn’t and you’d walk out of here with your back account empty.

You pull back the curtain and reveal your outfit to him. It wasn’t like you two had to match. Dick has said as much, and he told you if anything that he’d follow your lead. Which felt even more nerve wracking because you had no reason to be there and he had every reason to be there. It’s his night, not yours.

Dick smiles and nods his head, “You look amazing. Do you like it?” 

You move forward and look off to the side where the body length mirror is. It ticks all the boxes. It wouldn’t get you heckled online. It wouldn’t be too splashy. But it also wouldn’t be you. You aren’t the glitter and beads type. Or maybe you are, but not at this very moment. 

You shake your head, “It’s amazing but I don’t think it’s me.” 

“This is about you being comfortable for the night.” he says.

You look over at Dick. His full attention is on you now. You feel like you might lose your footing with the way he’s looking at you. He’s like a hot thunderstorm. You have to blink back your thoughts to focus on the situation at hand here.

“Okay I’m gonna try on another one.” you answer.

Then you’re turning around and walking back into the dressing room. As you do you see Dick sit back into his chair and reach for another piece of food.

“Don’t rush, these fancy things are great!” he says.

“Leave me some when I come back out, will you?” you joke.

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.”

When you get back into the dressing room you realize that you’ll have to unzip yourself. Zipping had been easy. You had learned a hack on how to zip yourself online a while ago. But usually you leave a bit of room to make the unzipping easier. Not today though.

Shit.

You reach and reach but the zipper is awkwardly not in the right place for either of your hands to grab and pull down on. Your face gets hot at the mention of calling Dick to come help you. Not that it’d be weird. It’d be too much tension. You like him too much to let him come in behind you and pull down your zipper. You wouldn’t survive it. The possible brushing of skin? The silence? Or would he talk to you while he did it? Sure you and him were basically cuddling each other for the music video. But that was different. There were people and cameras and a script to follow. This was real, unscripted and honest. 

You clear your throat. You were not about to ask one of the employees to do it. The person you knew the most in this store was Dick. And you’d have to tough it out.

“Dick?” you ask.

“Yeah?”

“I need a little help in here.” you say. You turn around and open the curtain a bit to invite him in. It takes a few moments and then he’s poking his head in. He looks adorable, like an innocent puppy. You have to toughen up!

“How can I help?” he asks.

You turn your back to him and point at the zipper, “I need help pulling this down.” 

“Oh, I got you.” he says.

You can hear him shuffle into the dressing room. And then you can feel his breath hitting your back. You’re pretty sure it leaves goosebumps all over you. You hope he doesn’t notice. And if he does, you hope he doesn’t say anything.

The mirror is in front of you now. You can see both of your reflections in it. Dick isn’t looking into the mirror, only down art your outfit.

You feel his fingers grip onto the zipper. You take a small breath in and look away from the mirror for a few moments.

“If you don’t find anything you like here, there are other options.” he says.

Then he starts pulling down the zipper. Slowly. Your heart is pounding against your chest. You look back into the mirror. His eyes are fully on the zipper going down.

“I think I’ll find something here.” you speak.

When the zipper finally reaches the end you hold the front of the outfit with your hand. That’s shown his eyes catch yours the mirror. He smiles and clears his throat. 

“I’ll be out there.” he points behind him with his thumb. 

“Thanks.” you say.

“Anytime” he responds. And then he’s walking past the curtain, and pulling it closed. Yeah you are probably done for.

-

Dick is home and he feels happy. More than that he feels inspired. He hasn’t touched his piano in four months because all the things he tried to write sounded like trash and felt like superficial lines found on the inside of a valentines card. But tonight is different. 

When he was in the shower a line came to him. He basically scrambled out of the shower, with soap down his back and his hair sopping wet and a towel around his waist, and he lunged for his notebook. He wrote out in scribbles what was on his mind. And when he felt like he got something good down, he dried off and dressed up.

Now he’s sitting in the candle lit dark of his condo. And he’s playing a few chords on his baby grand. 

“I think you know me more than know and you see me more than see I could die now more than die every time you look at me…” he sings into the empty space.

He smiles to himself. 

“But I’ve never seen anything quite like you tonight.”

And the words couldn’t have been more true. Dick things after the second outfit you tried on he might’ve been overwhelmed. You were stunning in anything you wore. He’s seen you in jeans and now he’s seen you in a sparkling white dress. It shook him to his core.

It’s not like he’s in love with you already. No way. He understands he falls fast sometimes. And with the right amount of time he falls really hard. But you are so different. It doesn’t feel fast this time and it doesn’t feel like love just yet. And he likes that. He want to take his time with you.

When you came out in your forth option he knew it was the perfect choice. A dark teal jumpsuit. He didn’t want to sway your choice so he kept the compliments to a minimum and pretty light. And you ended up settling on it anyways. 

He thought you were a vision. And a part of him, a big part, knows that it’s because of today that he’s able to write this song. There had been a few lines he had been thinking about since he had meet you. But none of them ever called out to him, or made him actually want to sit down at his piano and think out a concept. 

Dick wold be remise to say you were just a muse. No, he’s planning on asking you out. He just doesn’t want to scare you away, or make your relationship feel unbalanced. He’ll wait until after the video comes out that way technically your job with him is over. He already knew his status gives him an unfair advantage in certain situations. He wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to go out with him.

But at the aquarium, when he brought up that thing about the greater sights, he knew it right then and there that he wasn’t talking about a place. Thankfully you didn’t catch him looking at you while you looked at the jellyfish. Or you would have for sure picked up on what he was saying in between his words.

There’s a buzz from his phone. He picks it up and views the text. From his manager.

“Video is live and the fans are eating it up!!! Might have to get the two of you in front of a camera again!” The text reads.

On one hand Dick is happy. He’ll get to work with you again which has probably been a highlight of his career. Being on set with someone like you was like magic in it’s purest form. He never wanted to leave and he wanted to savor it. On the other hand Dick is torn. If he’s on set with you again, he can’t ask you out formally. No way. He’ll be your boss again and that would be unprofessional. Great. He’s stuck. 

#dc x reader #dc x you #dc fic #dick grayson x you #dick Grayson x reader #dick Grayson imagine #famous dc! au (dick's version) #dc imagine #dick Grayson fic

[cipheramnesia]

Hey guys, the tech support forum for defunct camera models has been really helpful but this one is a mystery. I bought this Paillaed Bolex H16 from an estate sale for a steal because it has a bunch of weird stuff scratched into the case but when I was testing some of my camcorders the video gets all distorted any time I point it at the Bolex - it even happens with the digital models. I haven't been able to get any good pictures of it either, as you see. What's more bizarre is look at what happens to anything I shoot from the Bolex. Weird right? Even with fresh film I keep getting that superimposed exposure. Kinda looks like it's getting closer but that's probably my imagination. Anyway, has anyone seen anything like this before? A bunch of friends and myself are going to go on a long, isolated backpacking trip through the Mystery Vanishing Hikerdeath trails this weekend and I want to film it all with the Bolex.

[theladycarpathia]

The Creel House. Built by famed architect, Buford Newton, in the late 1800s, this once glamorous building now goes to ruin on the outskirts of Hawkins. Abandoned for the last twenty years, the house has been unable to keep a buyer since 1987. After Buford died in a freak accident, the house passed to his nephew. Andrew Newton eventually died in the house of a heart attack. Was it medical causes? Or was it fright that caused Mr Newton to die in the same room as his uncle? And when the house was put up for sale…

“What the hell are you doing?” Billy asks, dropping another box into the van. Steve fumbles with his phone and it slips out of his hands and down between the seats.

“Fuck,” Steve hisses and jams his hand between the space for it. Billy sighs loudly and slams the rear doors shut.

“Robin, let’s go!” he shouts back to the house, giving no mind to the other Loch Nora inhabitants. “Steve’s already being weird!”

“Fuck you, I’m recording a voice-over,” Steve says, managing to grab the edge of the phone between two fingers and carefully pulling it up. “This is the biggest episode yet, I want to add some drama.”

“Drama,” Billy snorts, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Sure. Us breaking into an old house and wandering around for an hour isn’t exactly going to bring us in the big viewer numbers, Steve-o. And anyways Andrew Newton’s death wasn’t caused by some ghost. It was almost definitely caused by his love of red meat and prostitutes.”

“You are a buzzkill,” Steve complains, shoving his phone back into his backpack. They’re losing light and they need some good shots of the house. There’s a slam of a door and Robin races out of the house, clutching her camera and dressed for exploration in dungarees and boots, a green beanie pulled low over her ears.

“That’s why they love us,” Billy says, with a grin, as Robin pulls herself in next to Steve.

“I’m here,” she pants, slamming the door behind her. “Let’s go.”

“Belt,” Billy chides and waits for her to buckle up before he’ll even start the van.

Annoyingly, he’s right. ‘Mystery Spot’ was started a few years ago, in high school, when they were bored and Billy thought it would be fun to break into the graveyard at night to see if the ‘wandering maiden’ ghost rumors were true. They weren’t but them being busted by an annoyed caretaker got them enough hits that they decided it might be worth trying for an actual channel.

It does pretty well, especially with the LGBT crowd. They have Robin, who delights in wearing rainbow themed outfits on camera, and Billy who is eye candy to both men and women, even if he’s only interested in the former. The big draw comes from the bickering between Steve - the consummate believer - and Billy - the hardcore sceptic. Anything that Steve says that even remotely suggests something supernatural is instantly shot down by Billy. It’s weird and shouldn’t work but the fans love it.

Robin spends the drive over reading comments from the last video. Creel House has long been suggested by their fans, the old ruined mansion an established feature on the outskirts of Hawkins. They’ve been saving it for a special episode and a Halloween episode seems fitting.

“‘Robin, I like your socks, where did you get them?’” Robin quotes and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Why are so many of our comments asking about your clothes?” he says, watching the streets with their brilliant fall colors race by. Hawkins sometimes feels a little chafing but the small town charm isn’t all bad. There’s already carved pumpkins on peoples’ stoops, the odd skeleton propped up in a yard.

“My clothes are great,” Robin says easily, and as she should when she has a whole dedicated fanbase for her quirky thrift-store outfits. “I can read out the other kind of comments, if you like?” She raises her eyebrows but it’s enough. Steve has to turn his head so that Billy can’t see his blush.

So…a lot of their fans like commenting on the supposed sexual tension between Billy and Steve. Which, yeah, he certainly gets with their back and forth, and they’ve been friends forever. Which is kind of the problem.

So what if Steve’s been nursing a crush on Billy for the last four years? The guy is basically his best friend, aside from Robin, and if anything got fucked up, that would be the end of the show. Their group. Billy has never shown any interest in Steve anyway, dating the guy from the pizza place, a football player, and his next door neighbor in quick succession. 

It’s fine. Steve is completely in love with him but it’s fine.

“We’re nearly there, shitheads,” Billy comments, flicking the indicator to turn down Peach street. “Get ready for the most non-event of our lives.”

“Fuck you, this is going to be great,” Robin says, stashing her phone away in her bag. “Halloween special, super creepy fucked up murder house, I’m wearing my lucky bra and a new beret. The only way we could get even more views is if something unexpected and highly anticipated happens.”

Billy pulls up at the kerb by Creel house and blinks in confusion. “Do you mean ghosts?”

“Yes. Ghosts,” Robin says flatly. “Or some other highly nervous, insecure spook completely lacking balls.”

Steve discreetly stomps on her foot as they climb out of the van.

The unloading is quick, because they’ve learned to travel light when breaking into abandoned and possibly condemned buildings. Robin gets her camera rolling pretty quick to catch Steve’s shiver.

“Man, this place is creepy,” he mutters, staring around at the large broken mirror over the fireplace. 

“It’s a shithole,” Billy says, sweeping his own camera over the empty living room. There’s still a mottled throw flung over the back of the couch, paintings on the walls. Something bumps into Steve’s foot as he steps forward and he looks down to see a small ball, the kind of brightly coloured toy a child might play with.

“Did they just…leave?” Steve asks, taking it all in. Aside from the dust and thick cobwebs, this could be any normal house. The kitchen still has bowls and cups on the draining board, just waiting to be put away. A small swing set rusts outside and the grandfather clock in the hallway has a cracked face, a small spider climbing up the mahogany.

“Basically,” Billy says, scrunching up his nose at the dead plants sitting on the kitchen windowsill. They’re little more than empty plant pots of dirt at this point. “Creel House was still occupied until nearly a decade ago. The Packard family packed up and left everything behind, took only themselves and whatever necessities they could shove in the car. Mom, pop, kids, dog. They said they couldn’t take the evil in the house anymore.”

“And you thought this was going to be boring,” Steve says, bending over to peer at one of the framed photos hanging next to the kitchen table. Billy snorts.

“It’s an empty house. They got freaked out by some creaking boards and a spider infestation and they bolted like pussies. There’s a logical explanation for everything, Steven.”

‘Except for why you don’t want me,’ Steve thinks. But he’s not so sure that this house can be so easily explained away. Something is causing his hair to stand on end, some uneasy feeling in his gut like they’re being watched.

Robin sticks her head next to his, face softening as she catches sight of the little kids on Christmas day, all clad in bright Santa sweaters, among piles of presents. The kind of picture you’d get in any family home. 

“Doesn’t feel right, does it?” she whispers, focusing her camera on the frame. Steve shakes his head. He knows enough about this house to know that everyone who tried to live here experienced horrible luck. The original architect’s family had sold the house off after yet another distant relative died here but it hadn’t improved once the ownership passed out of the Newtons. When a young couple moved in during the first world war, the man went mad and beat his wife to death in the master bedroom. In the forties, the teenage daughter drowned in the tub. In the fifties, the owner’s prized Pekingese dogs both choked to death in the garden. An Investment banker crashed his car off a bridge in 1972. 

The Creel family moved in during the eighties, the famous case that gave the house its name. One horrible and stormy night in 1986, both of the Creel children vanished from their beds, leaving behind one battered teddy and a message written in blood on the walls. Neither body was ever found.

After that the house sat empty until the Creels both died. Victor and Virginia died barely a decade after their children went missing, Virginia taking a large bottle of pills and Victor’s heart gave out once all of his family were gone. A cousin fixed up the house and sold it off several years later. It bounced through several more owners, none of whom were able to keep the house longer than a few years. Finally, the Packards took it on in 2009, the last people to ever live in the house. But they didn’t last long. They made it five months before they fled and the house has sat empty ever since.

“It has to be something,” Robin continues. “How does a house go through this much bad luck? This much blood?”

“Sheer fucking dumb luck,” Billy insists. “Idiots. That’s all. This house isn’t haunted.”

Something creaks overhead, like someone leaning on a floorboard. They all look up at the ceiling, waiting for another sound.

“It’s an old house,” Billy says firmly. “Shit creaks.”

“Steve, let go of my arm,” Robin complains and Steve releases her wrist. The unexpected noise had startled him more than he’d care to admit. 

“Do we have weapons?” Steve asks, eyes still tracking the ceiling overhead and Billy sighs.

“No, we don't have weapons. Do you want a photon pack or something?” he asks and Robin cackles.

“Billy’s a nerd who makes references,” she says gleefully, flipping the camera around so she can grin at the audience. “You heard it here first, folks.”

“We don’t know what’s in here,” Steve says defensively. The feeling of being watched hasn’t gone away and while he’s never run away from a hot spot before, he’d very much like to now. He doesn’t like this house. It’s not like the others. 

“Aww, Steve, don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” Billy says, with a flirty wink. Steve’s stomach dips, first with arousal and then disappointment. He doesn’t mean it like that. He never means it like that.

Robin pats his arm as she passes by, drifting out into the hallway. She wanders down the hallway and they hear her sudden exclamation.

“Robin?” Steve follows her, wondering what fresh she’s found but she meets him in a doorway, face alight with joy.

“Steve, come look at this!” She drags his arm and pulls him into the room, shouting for Billy all the way. They’re in the family dining room, a grand room with paneled walls and a formerly plush red carpet, a full set of chairs still arranged around the ornate dining table. Steve gawps at the gilded sconces as they pass by. 

“Wow,” Steve says finally, when they come to a stop at the end of the room. Robin beams, turning to look at her find. “Holy fuck, is that them?”

“The Creels,” Robin says, eyes flicking over the four faces in the portrait. “The Packards must have bought it at an auction or maybe it came with the house. We have to film our intro here.”

Steve nods mutely. Victor Creel stands in the center of the picture, arms around his family. Virginia sits on a chair, legs folded neatly and a coy smile on her lips. She looks like the picture perfect housewife, golden hair gently curled under her chin. Alice is wearing pristine white skirts and gleaming buckled shoes, a wide toothy grin on her small face. Only Henry is dour, narrow chin and dark eyes staring resolutely out of the frame. 

“Creepy fucker, right?” Robin says, following his eye-line. “Are you gonna be okay with…this?” 

He knows that she’s not talking about the house.

“It’s fine,” he says automatically and Robin snorts.

“I stopped believing that one two years ago,” she sighs, tucking her arm through his. “I just…thought you’d get over it. Move on. You certainly dated enough.”

“Yeah,” Steve says miserably. “Me too.” 

Onto Chapter 2

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove harvest #prompt: ghost hunters #bless their hearts #they're gonna find actual ghosts and stuff #tired robin #idiots in love #pining #I think this will be a full fic eventually? #after nano #modern au

[desudog]

@fuumusu

i just ended up taking pics of /most/ of my plush collection, LPS included, but this isnt all of them its just whos on my shelves

mtn dew for scale ref. what am i, bad dragon? well anyways.

heres my LPS. super small collection, im mad bc a raise in interest in "2000s aesthetics" made the market for these go up so theres like no more 20 dollars for 5 lots on ebay LOL...

BAB Tempest Shadow (one of my fave ponyyyyyysss)

all 3 of my Dotties. one of my fave BBs ever. sadly, the backpack fits jack shit and is built for a kids frame...

closeup of mini.. hm, whats that? the leo in the bg?

yup, those are my promotional 2015 FEF keychains. # swag. idk why theyre sideways.

i bought these yoohoo keychains when they were still first in claires. i remember i was at the mall with my grandparents. its one of those things youre kinda self conscious of looking back on, ive always loved stuffed animals so i would beg to go to girls outlets and didnt really get why i had to fight so hard to lol. the gloomy is from like 2 or 3 years ago hes just from ebay

disney world Duchess plush which i THINK i got while it was still brand new release. ive ALWAYS been obsessed with this damn movie and my uncle lives in florida and got it for me before i can even remember. she went in a bit too hot water so her long fur is all wooly but shes mostly perfect besides 1 stain. i didnt take her a lot of places so she didnt get messed up. apparently goes for 50+ dollars these days even if conditions not great.

for ref, heres a mint condition one.

and YES, all the other duchess's are dreammmmm owns of mine. shes uhmmmm <3

not all of my webkinz. prob a 3rd. i have the opposum and black dragon (?) somewhere too, and i THINK i still have the orange tabby. ive lost my blufadoodle years ago tho and was HEARTBROKEN. hes somewhere around here i just dont know where. the wolf is worth $$$$ but i got him as a freebie at a church sale :]

new and old torchics XD one of my fave starters

CoCo Surprise cats. I hate Luna the cat her arms are so weird. I just gave the leopard a bath last night tho and she looks great ^^. her arms are super long in front front so she sits good on flat surfaces (not: my bed)

i also just gave Lady a bath and restuffing! shes perfect fr. got from a sal. army

Pound Puppy and Pound Puuuurries. (what, no pussies?) (bad perspective shots, mb its hard to take pics cus theyre so long and i try not to touch them bc autism badtexture. these i found downstairs with sega genisis games so you can guess theyre probably not from a secondhand)

(lol)

Cody's black jaguar plush. very cute and high quality and big andwas just 20 dollars. has weighted paws. the only stufie he'll cuddle lol i guess its hardcore enough

Lucky's Simba and retriever (who is like SOOOO well stuffed, sadly no weights tho.)

a mint condition blue gellart i found at GOODWILL? and a dancing/marching bear lucky got at a dead& co concert.

my beanie boos. im mad about the quality fail on the one to the left, whos eyes are all weirdly close. -_- the lemur is part of a growing collection of lemur plushes lol

and my P. Lushes!

for some reason my Bianca has what i ASSUME is a design error that causes her to have wayyyy too short front legs so she leans forward and cant sit. ._. (sorry for no camera focus idk why it didnt focus)

and a extra older BB + a similar one who was painted to be scary as fuck by an alter for whatever reason and has sense made us ban painting any plushes

[straysketches]

The Night Before the Future (preview)

✨Fic Link: “The Night Before the Future”✨

Summary: Two clans of gargoyles -- creatures that turn to stone during the day and come to life by night -- reside in the city of Iwatobi. Video evidence of their existence is eventually caught on camera, and the clans struggle to find their place in the world as the city transforms into a bustling metropolis almost overnight.

Fandom: “Free!” characters set in the “Disney’s Gargoyles” universe (some characters are gargoyles, others are human/other)

Pairings: primarily SouRin & Reigisa, with mentions of NatsuNao & MakoHaru

Rating/Warning: Teen (language, violence, mentions of death/depressing themes)

Tags: fantasy/AU, action/adventure, found family, angst, romance/fluff, friends-to-lovers, slow burn

Word Count: 44k (11 Chapters; completed fic!)

It happened in a single night and rippled through the city of Iwatobi like a wave.

***

Miyako glided as quickly as the wind would carry her over the dark, quiet coastline, towards the inner city. Her clan had just said their goodbyes and were one by one going back to business as usual until only Hiro and Tachi, her closest friends, were left, watching her until her silhouette disappeared.

“Think she’ll be happier?” Tachi asked, finally moving towards one of two abandoned beach homes the clan utilized for storage. She pushed the door open, its handle long gone, grabbed two empty backpacks hanging on the wall, and gave one to her companion.

“She’ll definitely be less restless,” Hiro replied, maneuvering the backpack’s straps under his wings, over his shoulders and clipping them into place. “The city will keep her busy.”

Tachi adjusted her own pack. “I just hope she’ll be safe, I worry every time another one of us goes over there.”

“You two worry too much,” a burly grey tank of a gargoyle chuckled—the leader of the clan, Ono. He approached the house with a slow saunter as they came outside. “Don’t worry for her, have confidence in her! She’s not the first of ours to transfer to Samezuka and I doubt she’ll be the last.”

“I have no doubt the Samezuka clan will be safe, I’m hoping the Samezuka district is as kind,” Tachi stretched her green feathered wings a few times, pulling their muscles and testing the currents coming in from the waves.

“Well, Seijuro left and I haven’t heard any complaints from him. Between you two and me, the last I spoke to him, Toraichi said he was heavily considering our boy as his second.”

Hiro’s eyes lit up. “So soon?”

“It’s not official or anything, but Seij has proven himself more than capable of taking charge. Not going to lie, I’m kind of jealous, he was such a hothead before he left, guess city living humbled him.” Ono rubbed the back of his neck and looked out at the expanse of beach that lay before him on either side.

Right in the middle of the vast beach and small grassy hill were two beach houses that had been put up for sale and abandoned long ago. Gargoyles weren’t the best carpenters, but they did what they could to keep the homes as neat as possible, sweeping away dust and keeping their belongings organized. The paint outside had started to chip in some places, but that was of little concern. His clan was scattered throughout the beach, talking, playing, swimming in the waves, exercising their wings in the skies—this was where the Iwatobi clan lived, far enough from humans to live as they pleased without being on constant alert.

It was rumored amongst the clan that their ancestors came from the mountains and eventually migrated down to the coast.

The houses came some five or so years ago, and Ono was sure they would have to give up their beachside home, but the two houses were built, construction was halted before more could go up, and no humans ever came. The closest beaches occupied by humans were miles away, the clan protected by an uninhabitable rocky cliff to one side, and miles of wilderness beyond the beach on the other. The Iwatobi clan didn’t know much about human customs, save for what they bothered to learn from the fae folk they made supply runs to, and eventually the clan grasped enough of the concept of how humans used money to learn that the houses were too expensive for their own good, so they fell through and the clan was once again safe.

They now used the homes as an epicenter, storing supplies, food, clothes, personal items and occasionally gathering inside when weather inclined. Everyone worked to keep the houses tidy and the beach clean. The beach had long since been declared closed by the authorities and haunted by the locals and the Iwatobi clan rarely ventured into the city unless making supply runs, which Hiro and Tachi were assigned to tonight. Miyako grew up in this clan and at some point she found cleaning and swimming too dull for her senses and craved something more exciting; shortly after, she met Toraichi.

“Go on, you two, you’re wasting moonlight,” Ono said, as the pair climbed to the roof of one of the houses, caught a gust a wind and flew towards the city.

Iwatobi was a large but modest island city, connected to the rest of the world through bridges and ferries on the west side; it grew from infancy as a small fishing town and had since tripled in size, though not so much in grandeur. It had its checkpoints—choice restaurants, lovely housing options, and a downtown one could describe as bustling on the right day—but was rarely filled with excitement or experiences typically associated with a city of its size. Located in the heart of the city was the social hub known as the Samezuka district, an expanse of shops and noise that spanned about three blocks, where the other gargoyle clan resided.

Miyako tucked her wings close to her as she maneuvered between vacant streets and dark alleys, forced to be more wary of humans. She flew down into one alley, gliding silently over a passing car, and pressed herself against the cement wall. She watched as people yelled over the crowd, trying to hear themselves, keeping their eyes glued to the path in front of them or to the ground to avoid relentless salespersons. If anything new or exciting came to Iwatobi, Samezuka would find it first and spread it through the rest of the city like a literal heartbeat, pumping ideas, merchandise and the promise of something bigger, better, flasher. On the opposite end of the street, a large billboard was in the process of being built; another sign to sell another product. Miyako had never seen actual daylight, but she surmized Samezuka was just as bright. The energy in the street was invigorating, she was almost tempted to walk out and experience the rush for herself, but instead she sighed and scaled the wall, making her way to the roof.

In the short distance, she saw shadows moving across the rooftops—they’d almost be undetectable if she didn’t know what she was looking at—and her heart thrummed loudly in her chest when one of the shadows made their way towards her.

Toraichi was a built gargoyle with medium brown skin, his body covered in dark stripes outlined in white. His large batlike wings wrapped lazily around Miyako, bringing her closer.

“Welcome home,” Toraichi said, gently tucking a strand of long red hair out of her face.

They fell into each other’s arms like it was the one place they were always meant to be. Toraichi was the young leader of the Samezuka district clan, a caring and considerate leader who worked alongside his clan rather than ruled over it. He came to the city with a handful of rogues—gargoyles that lived on their own—some years before. They found a home in Samezuka, taking an immediate liking to how much busier it was than the rest of the city, and soon afterwards they were found by the Iwatobi clan. Younger members of the home clan, curious about the newcomers, would often hang around until some became a permanent part of it, and the ragtag Samezuka group of no more than five quickly grew to fifteen.

***

#the night before the future #free! #free! iwatobi swim club #free! eternal summer #free! dive to the future #disney gargoyles #gargoyles #fanfic #my fic #my writing #fantasy au #alternate universe #sourin #reigisa #sousuke yamazaki #rin matsuoka #rei ryugazaki #nagisa hazuki #preview #going through my drafts so you all get a reminder of my really niche fic lol <3

[bunk12bear]

Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've

Fandom(s): Supernatural and Stranger Things

Character(s): Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Eddie Munson

Pairing(s): None

Words: 3700

Description: 13-year-old Dean Winchester accidentally comes across the debut album of up-and-coming metal band Corroded Coffin while avoiding being caught shoplifting food for him and Sam. On a whim he steals the cassette and quickly becomes obsessed not understanding why he's so drawn the the band's handsome and charismatic frontman Eddie Munson

or teenage Dean Winchester develops a huge crush on Rockstar Eddie Monson despite not realizing that he's bi yet.

Trigger warnings: allusions to child abuse, brief instance of homophobia

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

I posted about this crossover idea earlier and said I wouldn't write it. I have been proven to be a liar this isn't necessarily the final product because still looking for a beta reader but I'm posting it here in the meantime.

I'm aware that the song in the title is pop punk rather than metal but fun fact The Buzzcocks' Pete Shelly was openly bisexual and wrote this song after falling in love with his male roommate.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

1992 

Dean's stomach growled loudly, dad had been gone for 3 days and they were already out of food. He had managed to convince the lady behind the front desk to give them a couple of the single serving cereal bowls they had for sale but that's all she would give him without money.

Not for the first time he wished that dad would have them staying in hotels with continental breakfast. If he brought his backpack, he could probably sneak enough food to feed them for the rest of the day but every time he asked, he got the same response "Come on now Dean, that's expensive. What, do you think I'm made of money?"

Sammy signed from one of the dingy beds and put his book down on the scratched up little table between them, right next to the lamp with its cracked shade. Dean felt a twinge of guilt rising in his stomach. His little brother must have read it 100 times and it showed. The cover was practically falling off and it had faded the places where Sam's fingertips rested when he had it open. He should really think about getting Sam some new books. Maybe somebody would give him a few bucks for mowing their lawn or something.

"Dean?" Sammy asked, jolting him from his thoughts "When do you think Dad's going to get back? I'm hungry."

"I don't know Sammy," he replied, glancing at the door.

Sammy flopped onto the bed staring at the cracked ceiling tiles, "What if something happened to him this time? What if he dies and we have to go to foster care? Dad said they'd separate us in foster care." 

"You don't gotta worry about that, Dad's fine he's a good hunter he's not going to be taken down by a wendigo” Dean reassures him.

"Okay, it's just it was supposed to be a quick hunt, that's why he only left us with 2 days’ worth of food." 

"I know Sam, listen if he's not back in 2 hours I'm going to go find us some food. I wouldn't let you starve, okay?"

Sam sighed heavily, grabbing his book again "I know dean." he replied and began skimming the pages.

— — —

The two hours passed with little fanfare and dad still wasn't back.

Dean got up, carefully putting the hunting notes dad had left him neatly stacked on the desk.

"I'm going to get us food Sammy." He yelled over to his brother who was occupied with one of the few other worn books he was able to cart from place to place with them.

Dean put his shoes on and slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbing a baseball cap last minute if he needed to hide his face from security cameras.

Stepping out into the baking heat of the Arizona summer, he scanned the perimeter to make sure no one was paying attention and set out searching. 

He slipped carefully into a convenience store walking casually to avoid notice, repeating a pattern of grabbing several snacks and walking around as if he was still browsing before slipping them into his backpack hoping to avoid detection. When his bag was sufficiently full, he returned a few snacks he'd grabbed as decoys to their spots as he headed out the door.

He headed back towards the hotel, peering in windows and checking out pretty girls, trying his best to look like just another teenage boy out on a walk over summer break. Suddenly he saw a set of blue and red flashing lights out of the corner of his eye.

His stomach dropped; dad would kill him if he got arrested for shoplifting. He grabbed the handle of the closet door and slipped inside.

It was a record shop, that much he knew. The tiny shop was packed with cassette plays and rows and rows of record bins. The air was tinged with a musty scent Dean couldn't quite identify, weed Maybe and the lights were set weirdly low.

Buying himself time, he stashed away his backpack under one of the tables and began to thumb through the records. There were genres and subgenres he never even heard of before. To be honest, he’d never really explored music beyond what dad liked. It's not like Dad would have bought him cassettes anyway.

He continued pretending to search for a record, occasionally pulling one out and pretending to study it, not really paying attention to what he was doing until he got to the metal section. He grabbed a random record intending to continue his usual routine when he flipped it over and stopped dead in his tracks.

It was a fairly standard band picture, Four men in their mid-twenties sitting on a couch holding their instruments or something related clad in leather and denim and metal. That was not what caught Dean's attention.

The frontman, Eddie Munson according to the record, sat leaned back against the couch, an electric guitar held carefully in his lap. His body language and facial expression displayed a casual confidence that Dean could only fake. 

Dean's heart rate picked up and his mouth went dry. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the image and he couldn't understand why.

Was he…jealous? The man was good looking, Dean supposed, with big brown doe eyes, full lips, clear pale skin and long dark curly rocker hair. He was the kind of guy that girls his age would swoon over, and he could see why, you know objectively speaking. 

He put the record back in a rush trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks and the odd fluttering in his stomach.

He resumed his earlier activity trying to cut through the fog that had formed in his brain. His thoughts continued to return to the album, to Eddie Munson specifically. An image floated into his consciousness, that black leather jacket hugging Munson's shoulders like it was made for him. "I should get a leather jacket,'' Dean thought, "Girls like leather jackets," The fluttering in his stomach continued

His heart continued to pound in his ears as he reached the end of the table and grabbed his backpack. He was still thinking about the record when the cassette version caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed the tape and flipped it over, sure enough it bears the same band photo as the album. Despite the smaller size of the image Dean's eyes again fixate on Eddie Munson.

He glanced around the store; most people were absorbed in their own browsing and the only employee was a board looking teenage girl who seems more invested in the clock than her job. 

He stuffed the tape into his bag. 

The police are gone when he gets outside so he begins to walk back towards the motel stomach still churning as if he's hiding some big life-altering secret and not a shoplifted cassette tape.

Sam was distracted when he came back to the motel, absorbed in an episode of Darkwing Duck. Before getting his brother's attention Dean grabed the tape out of his bag and quickly wrapped it in a pair of socks depositing it back into the drawer where he'd been keeping his clothes. 

He laid the food out on the table. It isn't much, mostly processed as the room didn't even have a mini fridge but it'll do. They can make this last a couple days and he's done his best to ensure that Sam will be eating something from all of the food groups.

His mind continued to cassette hidden in his socks all afternoon and evening ending with him staring up at the ceiling with an odd tension in his shoulders and jaw till he finally fell asleep.

— — —

Dad didn't arrive back at the hotel until late the next afternoon. Turns out he had thought there was a lead in the case of mom's death, and he had gotten caught up in it for several days. At least he apologized about it this time. 

John offered to help the boys pack to make up for leaving them alone for longer than expected and Dean's stomach plummeted. John could not discover the tape. As a rule, he didn't like any music madefrom bands founded after 1980 and would complain if Sam or Dean tried listening to more modern music on the radio. He also would not have liked the fact that Dean was shoplifting even though he had only started to do so in the first place to feed himself and Sam when he disappeared on them for days.

"You can help Sammy, I'll be okay doing it myself" Dean had said, doing his best to seem mature and put together.

With dad's focus now on Sam, Dean grabbed the pair of socks with the cassette in them and shoved them very firmly into a corner of his bag. He finished packing, grabbing his bag and making sure to smile and offer to help Dad with his. Dad smiles, pats him on the shoulder and compliments him about how helpful he is. As they drive away from the motel Dean realizes he has nothing to play the tape with without his father knowing.

— — —

Dean only brooches the topic when he knows his dad is in a good mood. It's several days later and they're headed off to Bobby's, apparently the lead from the Hunts turned out to be more promising than he had thought.

They were all sitting at a Wendy's Sam and Dean dipping their fries in the frosty that Dad had decided to buy for them something he usually didn't do claiming it “unnecessary"

"Um Dad" he said barely above a whisper.

"What is it Dean?" John replied.

"I Was thinking maybe we could get a used Walkman or somewhere books on tape would probably be good to keep Sammy's brain up to shape over the summer and you could still listen to your music in the car." 

Dean braces himself for the worst.

"You know that Idea ain't half bad" John responded "On the way to Bobby's we can and see if we can find some sort of consignment shop. I'll ask the cashier if there's anything close."

"Thank you so much." 

John didn't respond having returned back to reading through his hunting notes.

— — —

The Walkman is heavily scratched and at least 5 years out of date it'll play cassette tapes fine and that's all Dean cares about. The man at the secondhand store was kind enough to give a discount on a few books on tape when they explained why they're buying it.

Sammy stared out the window listening to an audio version of Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. Dad had smiled when Sam picked it " a good choice" he had said "it'll teach you to be tough"

Dean for his part plays The Alphabet game do you know what that is or am I going to have to explain that in the author's note and taps his fingers to the Zeppelin dad is playing.

A billboard flies by as he's searching for the letter P amongst the signs of the side of the road

Homosexuality is a SIN

Leviticus 18:22 

It shakes Dean to his core, and he can't figure out why.

— — —

It's well past dark when they get to Bobby's and Sam is already asleep. Dean slipped the headphones off his ears and gently stowed the Walkman away in his bag. 

Once he made sure Sam was comfortably sleeping in one of the upstairs bedrooms, he ducked into another one locking the door behind him. 

Several agonizing moments passed as Dean stands back against the door bag in hand. He slept slowly down to the floor and it's practically vibrating as he reached into his bag, grabbed the cassette tape and pulled the socks off of it. His hands are trembling too much to get through the cellophane around it, so he tears at it with his teeth then quickly flips the cassette into place.

He places the Walkman on the bed as he changes into his pajamas and slips under the covers. After a moment of hesitation, he slips the headphones on, and presses play.

The music was good, very good it was certainly not dad's thing, but Dean can here be some of the references from things that are. Munson had a good voice and was obviously a gifted guitar player. The lyrics were full of fantasy references Dean didn't quite understand and fantastical situations that lead him to wonder if perhaps Eddie also grew up as a hunter. The thought makes the fluttering in his stomach and the burning in his cheeks return. 

At one point the music slows, and Munson's voice goes all husky for what's obviously a love song. Dean rewinds to the beginning of the song three times, (to better understand the lyrics of course).

When the album ends, Dean is left lying in the bed staring up at the ceiling with the headphones still covering his ears. He should sleep. He's exhausted but some persistent nagging feeling is gripping the scruff of his neck, extending its tightening fingers to his jaw. Do you understand what I'm getting at? I'm speaking from my own experience with anxiety but I'm not sure if it came across right Sleep does eventually find him and, in the morning, he stuffs the tape back into his socks and deposits the bundle back in his back.

— — —

It's been 2 months and Dean still can't stop thinking about Eddie Munson. He's listened to the album several times again on late nights with Sam asleep and dad on a hunt and every time it makes him more and more curious about the band particularly its frontman. 

There was a record store near the middle school he has been attending and every day as he passed by it to go pick Sam up from the elementary school, he swore he'd go in one day.

The owner catches him loitering outside one day and asks him what he's doing. He's an older guy who looks a bit like Harrison Ford if he were into metal. Dean can feel his cheeks going pink Under the man's gaze. He panics and nearly runs away but instead takes a deep breath and asks about the band.

The Man's eyes light up "Corroded Coffin? They're pretty good, aren't they? They're not Judas Priest or anything but I'm looking forward to seeing what their future holds. " He says, clasping a friendly hand on Dean's shoulder. The contact makes Dean's heartbeat rapidly in his chest.

"Um uh Yeah" he manages his to stammer out "I've always only ever really listen to my dad's music so I picked it so I could see what other kinds of music I might like" a snarky voice in the back of his head that tells him that that is decidedly not reason he took the tape but then again the shop owner didn't need to know that.

"I'm always happy to support people expanding their tastes. You know I have some music magazines that I'm done with. I was just going to throw them out, but you can have them if you want. One of them has an interview with the front man of Corroded coffin, Eddie something or other I forget his name".

Dean's heart leapt in his chest, "Munson," he corrected, quickly cheeks burning and eyes flitting to the side “His name's Eddie Munson." The man shot him a knowing look.

"So do you want the magazines?" he asked

Dean squared his shoulders giving a curt nod "Yes sir!" 

The shop owner raised an eyebrow but told Dean to wait there while he went to get the magazines and slipped back into the store.

He emerged a few minutes later with a small stack of magazines in hand "Here you go kid, enjoy" he says in places the stack in Dean's hands.

 "Thank you, sir," Dean respondef. " I should get going now though. I need to pick my brother up from the elementary school" 

"Goodbye kid good luck in your musical journey" the older man responds waving to Dean as he turns to leave and walks away.

— — —

Luckily for Dean, dad was away on a hunting trip that night giving him time to read the article one Sam has gone to bed. 

The article hails Munson as "September 1992's newcomer of the month" and features a full-page collage of different photos of him. If Dean spends 10 minutes just staring at the photos, then well nobody must know that. He folds the magazine hiding the pictures from sight and begins to read.

 Interview with September 1992 Newcomer of the Month-Eddie Munson

By Vanessa Guerrero

Eddie Munson (26) the lead guitarist / vocalist and Main composer lyricist of the up-and-coming band Corroded Coffin sits down in my office grinning at me with the boyish, slightly nerdy charm he's become known for.

Me: So, Mr. Muson, you've already gotten some pretty good buzz on your debut album. How does that feel?

Munson:  Absolutely fantastic, 6 years ago I was barely crawling my way to passing my third go around of my senior year of high school and now I have a charting album and I'm being interviewed for a magazine, kind of crazy you know.

Me: I can imagine. I understand that you write most of the music. Can you talk about some of your influences?

Munson: Oh yeah, I was inspired a lot by the classics you know, Metallica and Black Sabbath in particular, Ozzy Osbourne is like my all-time musical hero. There's also a good deal of non-metal influence like Guthrie and Phil Ochs. 

Me: Guthrie, as in Woody Guthrie?

Munson: Yeah, my uncle was a proud union man. He introduced me to a bunch of that kind of music when I was a kid. Painted my first acoustic to reference him. This machine slays dragons, a riff on his famous guitar you know

Me: Why dragons? 

Munson: It's a reference to Dungeons & Dragons, it's probably the biggest non-musical non-political influence on my songs. 

Me: I'm assuming you play it then.

Munson: Not only do I play but I also DM he presses his hand against his chest dramatically.  You are looking at the founder of Hawkins High School's very own Dungeons & Dragons Club. 

Me: You founded a Dungeons & Dragons Club in your high school? 

Munson:  Oh yeah, the rest of the band was in it actually. It was never very big, but I met some really great people through it including a couple of younger kids I still keep in contact with. They became like the little siblings I never had.

Me: That sounds lovely.

Munson: It was. Not everyone saw us that way though. Probably didn't help that we called ourselves "the hellfire club". You can imagine how well that went down in a small town in Indiana.

Me: I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Munson.

Munson: Thank you but call me Eddie, Mr. Munson's my uncle.   

Me:  The same uncle who introduced you to Guthrie? Munson nodsYou really seem to look up to him.

Munson: Yeah, I do, I owe him a lot. My old man wasn't a great guy. He never really wanted a kid. You know he pauses biting at his bottom lip for a second instead of teaching me to ride a bike or fish like a normal dad he taught to pick locks and hotwire cars. He had a real mean streak when he was drunk, cut off all my hair in a rage when I was in the 8th grade. That's when my Uncle Wayne took me in. Dad got busted for grand theft auto soon after that and I haven't seen him since.

Me: Wow I'm so sorry to hear that.

Munson: Yeah it sucks but Uncle Wayne's the best. I offered to buy him a big house with the earnings from this album but he refused. It's just not his style. I fixed him up with a nice double wide trailer instead.

Me: That's incredibly sweet of you. I bet he's really proud. Munson blushes and hides behind his long dark hair

Munson: I sure hope so, I owe him everything.

Me: Unfortunately, it looks like we've run out of time. It was lovely talking to you.

Munson: Oh, the pleasure is all mine. I must say you did a wonderful job. I hope we can get together to do this again sometime. He leans in, lowering his voice slightly.  If anyone on your team would like to learn more about Dungeons & Dragons, I'd love to help. The more the merrier I always say he flashes a  grin and winks.

Corroded coffin's debut album Girl With a Buzzcut premiered last May to rave reviews. It stayed in the Rock and Alternative charts for 6 weeks peaking at number 3. The band consists of Eddie Munson on lead guitar and vocals, Gareth Hughes on drums, Jeff Hall on Rhythm guitar and Rick Moore on bass.

By the time Dean reached the end of the article he felt a bit like a girl with a crush. Munson is funny, relatable, and charming. He’s everything Dean wants to be when he grows up. He's not sure why Eddie talking about struggling in school and having a beloved uncle  made him so giddy. He supposed it was just nice to have something in common with a rockstar. Dean does feel a pang of guilt for relating to the bit about his father, dad's just trying his best and Dean really should be more grateful.

He puts the magazines back in his bag then curls up in the covers and falls asleep.

Author's note: the guitar that says this machine slays dragons is actually from a behind the scenes look at Eddie's room. For those who don't know it is in fact a reference to folk music hero Woody Guthrie who had a guitar with the phrase "this machine kills fascists" painted on it.

#stranger things #eddie munson #bisexual dean winchester #bi dean #dean winchester #rockstar eddie munson #supernatural #john winchesters a+ parenting #Dean Winchester has a bisexual Awakening #young dean #young Dean Winchester #eddie munson lives #crossover #Dean Winchester needs a hug #early 90s setting #teenage Dean Winchester #Spotify

[hoskinsvarietyshow]

Okay. So apparently autism means I form a really strong connection to a lot of the things I own. If you’ve got similar habits, I recommend investing in some sturdy stuff. Doesn’t have to be expensive, but I’ve found I buy a lot less crap if I have specific things I have invested time and a bit of myself in.

Some of my favorite things: 

Clamshell cigarette case: (good for holding notes, lists, business cards, disposable masks,

A cool pen: I have a ball point and a fountain pen. Highly recommend a fountain pen. It pushes you to relearn cursive because that’s what it was meant for.

A watch: Frankly watches are just cool and add nice details to your silhouette. Mine’s dead so I just set it to secret numbers.

A deck of cards: I got a neat little pirate deck. Good for practicing riffle shuffling when you’re waiting for things. Nice for playing Hearts or Crazy Eights when waiting with friends. Even playing dice in a shady back alley. 

Tarot deck: I don’t believe in Tarot but I really like having them around. I have one in a cool wooden carrying case.

External battery: Mine has a built in carabiner so you can clip it to your backpack or belt loop.

Pedometer: I bought a neat little pokeball pedometer that I carry around with me.

A necklace: Good for showing a sense of personal style. 

Sturdy backpack: Mine’s made of old retired sailcloth so it’s thick as shit and weather resistant.

Carryon: Managed to find a 1970s American Tourister bag for $1 at a garage sale. Absolutely fantastic. Deep. Wide. Fits in all of those carry on dimension cubes. Great for transporting stuff you don’t want your neighbors to see you walking into your house with.

Cigar Box: Mine says “Jucy Lucy” which I think is funny as hell. It isn’t the traditional flat clamshell shape, mine opens from the top but it’s great for transporting small little things like your jewelry, cards, etc

Suspenders: My tummy can hang over my belt and belt buckles may look cool but man can the wrong one cut into your tumtum. 

Cowboy boots: Pricey. Don’t buy cheap. If they aren’t in the stars, don’t do it. But. They’re great for confidence. Like high heels with more stability. Slip on and go. Plus if you’re a pants person they can change they way your pants look around your ankle if you want a slightly less form fitting look to your silhouette.

Scarf: Great for if you’re feeling self conscious about your middle while you wear a coat as well as staying warm or keeping the wind off your neck. 

 Toiletries bag: Get one that isn’t just made of some kind of stiff cloth. Pleather is good for feeling classy as well being easy to clean and pretty stain resistant.

Cufflinks/broaches/tiepins/hairpins: Sometimes you need to really dress up. Usually when someone else is getting married. I like having a tiny bit of bling especially when I’m wearing a rented suit.

Bike: You can get one for about $75 on places like Facebook Marketplace. Really handy for when gas prices are too high and you’re cheap enough to suffer for it.

Skateboard: Super pricey. Not for the faint of heart. But a good way of meeting new people and getting out of the house. Do not start on hills like I did. I still have a dent in my ass.

Workbench: You might not have the room which is fine, but if you do, have a table you can store all of your hobby gear in one place. Something meant to take a beating, not a walmart folding table.

Cane: There’s no honor in pain. If you’ve got bad knees, bad joints, or frequent blisters, grab a cane. Get one with solid wood. It will breath more in hot, cold, and humid weather. 

Sunglasses: Getting blinded isn’t good for anyone so invest in that prescription. I also recommend a pendent eyeglass case if you have regular lenses.  

Camera: Your phone is neat and all, but frankly I don’t trust the cloud and film is more neat.

Sturdy phone case and a pop socket: We’re all adults. We know why. Don’t support your phone with your pinky. It’ll cause a lot of strain on your hands.

These are things I’ve been buying over the last few years. Slowly but surely I get things I can see myself enjoying. I try and ignore shitty plastic stuff. Get the braided charge cable. Get a cheap broken watch you can have repaired later. Minimalism is bullshit and nostalgia is poison but getting some cool stuff that will last you a few years will feel fantastic.

[langlyco]

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[bimbinis]

Any tips for going to the grocery store?

1. Keep your own reusable bag in your purse/backpack

2. Have a selection of alternatives in mind for recurring goods in case one of them is too expensive/the alternative goes on sale

3. Getting in bulk is (usually) cheaper than picking individually, both for produce and packed goods

4. If a store seems too expensive for a mundane item, it is. Go to a competitor nearby or ask for a discount based on their prices, some stores have a policy about this you can exploit

5. Speaking of which, sometimes you can invent the price of items at [competitor place], cashiers will only argue or ask for evidence at all if they're being monitored and it isn't company policy

6. Expired items are sometimes good to go and you can get big discounts on them

7. Cameras are usually insufficient to cover the corners of the hallway directly below them unless they're those fisheye ones, when that's the case the items there are free (secret tip they don't want you to know)

#anon #answers

[47burlm]

my "new toy"

【User-friendly and Versatile】Loiley drones are perfect for beginners and children, offering features like one-key takeoff/landing, altitude hold, emergency stop, and headless mode. It also provides smart app control (APP name: Loiley Fly), allowing users to define flight routes, use voice control and gesture selfies, and enjoy various functions like 360° flips, gravity sensing, and adding music and filters. 【Real-time Image Transmission and HD Photography】This small drone is equipped with an HD 1080P camera to capture stunning photos and videos with high quality and frame rate. The camera angle can be adjusted remotely up to 90 degrees. Combined with the upgraded hover system and optical flow positioning technology, the camera drone is more stable when shooting. Wi-Fi real-time transmission enables quickly sharing happy moments with family and friends. 【Take it Anywhere】 Loiley drone with camera is your ultimate travel buddy! It's so compact and lightweight that you can literally fold it up and fit it in your pocket or backpack. Weight under 250g to save you from FAA registration. Whether you're going on an outdoor adventure or exploring new places, you can easily take this mini drone with you and capture amazing aerial shots wherever you go. 【Safe and Long Battery Life】With two rechargeable drone batteries, this kids drone extends the flight time to approximately 25-30 minutes, providing a worry-free flying experience. The batteries are easy to charge and replace, with built-in overvoltage protection. The remote controller emits a low battery warning, ensuring beginners never lose their RC drone. 【Professional After-Sales Support】A mini drone with a camera makes for a cool and creative gift. Along with that, the package includes a portable bag for outdoor travel. The drone comes with propeller guards, spare fan blades, and remote control batteries, ensuring safety and reliability. Additionally, 24-hour technical support, quality warranty, and money-back services a

[ivy90com]

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[rukodrone]

INTRODUCING RUKO’S BEST-SELLING MODEL: RUKO F11GIM2 DRONE

As the flagship model of the Ruko brand, the F11GIM2 drone has many standout features. In this article, let’s explore what makes the F11GIM2 drone the best-selling model of Ruko.

4K Camera with 2-Axis Gimbal and EIS: Capture Every Stunning Moment

With the 4K Ultra-HD camera paired with a 2-axis gimbal and EIS, the F11GIM2 ensures that every shot is captured with clarity and stability. Whether you're a professional photographer or a hobbyist to document life, the F11GIM2 drone’s excellent camera capabilities will surely meet your expectations.

Built-in Remote ID: Enhanced Safety Compliance

The F11GIM2 drones are equipped with a built-in remote ID module. As we know, a drone that weighs≥250g needs to be FAA-verified with a remote ID module. Most remote ID modules are attached to the external of the drone body and they are generally overpriced. With the F11GIM2’s built-in RID, you have no worries about the attached module falling off, the complicated installation process, or the overly high price.

Smart GPS: More Fun and Convenience

Equipped with advanced smart GPS technology, the F11GIM2 drone enables intelligent navigation features such as Return to home, GPS follow, and Route Planning, which greatly enhances the overall flying experience.

• Return to Home: Fly with Confidence The F11GIM2 drone can automatically return to its take-off point simply with a press of the “RTH” button or in case of low battery level or lost controller signal, ensuring your drone is never lost.

• GPS Follow and Route Planning: Fly with More Fun The F11GIM2 drone’s GPS Follow functions enable the drone to track your movement and automatically follow you, for example, we can use this function to record moments of running on a lawn with the family. You can also choose a point of interest like your house and the drone will fly in a circle with that point as the center. Additionally, you can plan and customize the flight routes in advance by marking the beautiful scenery points (up to 16) that you want to explore, the drone will automatically fly along designated paths then.

9800ft Digital Image Transmission: Enhanced Clarity and Control Range

The F11GIM2 drone offers 9800ft real-time video transmission, allowing users to capture breathtaking pictures and videos from a great distance. The new-version F11GIM2 drone comes with a digital image transmission controller which provides a more secure and stable transmission connection compared to a Wi-Fi controller, reducing the risk of signal interference and ensuring more smooth flight maneuvers.

Leve-6 Wind Resistance: Superior Stability and Control

Capturing stunning aerial pictures outdoors can be difficult sometimes, especially in windy conditions. However, this obstacle is addressed with the Ruko drone’s excellent wind resistance capabilities. With the level-6 wind resistance, you get to capture pictures and videos with enhanced stability and control.

To Sum Up

Apart from the features mentioned above, the F11GIM2 drone also has a reliable battery life lasting more than 1 hour considering two batteries. Many Ruko users are even more satisfied when they open the packaging, It comes with a delicate carrying case for protection, and the size is small enough to perfectly fit in your backpack during hangouts. Additionally, the Ruko users can start a conversation with our customer service team at any time simply by using our drone apps or dialing our hotline, which ensures you have no worries about the after-sales service.

If you are looking for a high-quality and easy-to-fly drone, the Ruko F11GIM2 would be your best choice! Shop now and discover the beauty from above like never before!

#drone #gps drone

[ogatonosaco]

[DI/ Unha foto dun gato branco coas orellas canelas e o rabo listado sentado enriba nunha mesa de picnic nun parque. O sol de inverno brilla detrás del por enriba das árbores. O gato leva un arnés de cadros marróns, e un colar cunha chapa dourada. /Fin DI]

[ID/ A photo of a white cat with cream colored ears and a ringed tail sitting on top of a picnic table in a park. The winter Sun shines behind him on top of the trees. The cat's wearing a brown checkers harness, and a collar with a golden badge /End ID]

[DI/ Unha foto dun gato branco coas orellas canelas e o rabo listado entre uns bambús ornamentais. Ten o rabo inchado, pero está tranquilamente sentado entre os matoxos. Aínda que está de espaldas ten a cabeza xirada, mirando a cámara. O gato leva unha camiseta branca con listas marróns. Unha correa marrón sale do lombo dela ata a cámara. /Fin DI]

[ID/ A photo of a white cat with cream colored ears and a ringed tail between some ornamental bamboo. His tail is fluffed up, but he's calmly sit between the bushes. His body is facing away, but his head is turned, looking at the camera. He's wearing a white and brown striped t-shirt. A brown leash pokes through its back towards the camera. /End ID]

Disfrutando do solete e explorando o territorio dunha colonia felina cercana. Estivo frotándose moi agresivamente contra os matoxos!

Hoxe leveino sen a mochila, nos ombros coma antes de tela. O moi trenco non se engachaba nada, e eso que levei unha chaqueta pra que poidera crava-las uñas.... Estiven todo o rato facendo equilibrios con el.

Enjoying the sun and exploring a nearby cat colony's territory. He aggressively rubbed himself against those bushes for quite a while!

I didn't bring the backpack today, I just carried him on my shoulders like I did before I got the backpack. The silly guy didn't try to hold on at all, and I even wore a jacket so he could dig his nails.... I spent the whole trip doing balancing acts with him.

#cats #galego #described #descrito #gatos #neo o michi