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#the cardboard soaked up 3 times more paint than usual
theradioactivesoul · 3 years
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🦋butterfly queen madison🦋
Acrylic paint on 38x50cm cardboard
Time: 8 hours
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hes-writer · 4 years
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Reign (3)
Summary: harry sees something he's supposed to have
Warnings:  angst in the beginning, angst in the middle, angst near the end
Word Count: 4881 words
A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : dont cheat and don’t do drugs, kids
Tarnish (1)  .  Halo (2)  . Reign (3) . Trial (4) .
Errors (5) . Ruin (6) . Crumble (7)
Error Taglist
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A writer that cannot write is dead.
When one loses the ability to tell their stories and anecdotes through the mere action of swirling words together to create an imaginable atmosphere of real-world fantasy; they are dead. A writer recovering from the mundane and mediocre way of penning experiences to bounce back into what they used to be is difficult. It is easier to free fall and drown in the depths of despair. The moment thoughts and rumination fog up to form a blurry image of conviction is a warning sign, blaring at the back of their minds and sometimes even in their faces.
Harry is a writer--or, he was. Picking up the pen to style the words lingering in his head used to be as easy as blinking; quick and natural. Now, the words claw at the swell of his throat, trying to spit an adjective to describe the way he felt. It was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be lathed into existence. It did not matter if his cognition was mingled with various chemicals aimed to be able to feel happiness.
He was sober but he had trouble placing his finger on why it was so strenuous to narrate his feelings throughout the breakup. Being high or drunk was never the answer for him. Weed made him tired and made him have a case of cottonmouth. Harry learned from a young age that he should only ever engage with alcohol if he was in a mindset and setting that catered to increase existing good vibes. He thought that maybe he was in an odd phase of perceiving the opposite, and so he intoxicated himself enough to understand that it didn’t matter if he was soaked head-to-toe in sobriety or whizzed out of his mind by the amber liquid swirling in the glass in his hand. But that wasn’t the circumstance. It also didn’t matter if he was grasping his favourite pen to write--because it was comfortable--or tapping his calloused thumbs against his phone keypad. Hell, it didn’t make a difference when he sat down and prepared his typewriter to indulge in a headspace of vintage songwriting. Maybe that would help.
It didn’t.
He had stories to tell. Everything was laid out in misty overcast yet Harry’s great ideas morphed into gentle mistakes, harsh mistakes and discoveries that had him almost ripping his hair out of the roots of his scalp. When he felt the wave of his ocean-thoughts rise and peek where the sand shifted, his fingers were ready to move and discern for the eyes to see. But with each fritter, he couldn’t seem to get even two paragraphs in to decide that it was utter shit.
Harry was old enough to understand that slumping on the wet sand was a part of life. Sometimes picking up a fistful of grains and throwing them back to the sea was a great way to release frustration. But it seemed like this plunge of his ability to write was a hole of quicksand. He was trying his hardest to displace himself as swiftly as possible but it only made his scenario worse. The muddy sand clung unto his legs like sticky glue, heftier with each effort to leave. He wanted to move on. He wanted to forget everything that occurred in the past four years. Harry wanted to erase Y/N from his life because she wasn’t around anymore to bring those memories back to sparkly existence.
What he needed to do was nestle himself into a certain depth, calmly, in order to pull a limb out and ensure that his progress on the so-called ‘moving on’ did not have any drawbacks. Until then, he cannot possibly create songs that he was well-known for if he wasn’t patient enough.
He wanted so badly to tell his side of the story. Harry craved to think as clearly as he did when he told Y/N about his plan for their future. Admitting to his feelings was a hard route. Sure, he can be vulnerable but it took a great deal of convincing on his part to immerse himself in the deepest parts of his brain to understand why he felt the way he did. He usually had the means of songwriting to help him out but that obviously wasn’t working out that good for him.
___
Harry was packing the rest of Y/N’s things in boxes to be picked up later in the afternoon. He was annoyed at first at how she depended on him to fold her clothes properly instead of doing the bundle of the work herself. But he guessed that she didn’t want to be around him for longer than she had to. To be frank, he also did not want to indulge in what might turn into an argument if they spoke about the reason for their breakup. It was just a bit confusing because he had an urge to still want her around despite their less than likely situation.
Torture. If Harry had one chance to describe the way he felt right now; it was torture. With every nook of Y/N’s side of the closet emptying into brown, cardboard boxes--he physically how much she had integrated her life with his. How much space she took up in his life. How his clothes and her clothes were so interchanged between them that he couldn’t decide if the gray pull-over was actually his or hers. And in a moment of selfishness did he tuck it away for his safe-keeping despite seeing the tag imprinted on the inside; a shop that he hadn’t set foot in so it was a guarantee that it was hers.
Her scent embedded in the thin threads of each fabric wafted to his nose; each with a new wave of memories engulfing his senses as if each piece garnered a specific scent tailored to a specific event. Like her sunflower sundress--it smelled of fresh flowers as if the print was a scratch and sniff that released a fragrance. Or their DIY-ed tie-dye shirt of pastel blue and cotton candy pink. It was a matching piece made out of the cheap dye and a simple white tee but it was theirs. Things like these made Harry want to yell in frustration because every time he thought that he was completely over her-- Y/N appears out of visibly nowhere and towers over him.
Seeing her for the first time in days was a breath of relief. She looked fine. Glowing even, and Harry did not know what to make of it. As sadistic as it sounded, he was expecting dry-stained tears and a birds’ nest of hair trampling her head. Instead, Y/N was dressed for comfort in her baggy jeans and an even looser sweater covering her body. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, giving him a nod in greeting as he gestured to the boxes littering the floor.
Harry offered to help--it was the least he could do. And somehow, silence protruded from the tense atmosphere, begging to be cut by a knife yielded through their voices nipping at each others’ emotions.
“Let go of my damn hand,” Y/N stated, her hard stare could turn Harry into stone. He just wanted her to listen before she left.
He shook his head in denial of her request, tightening his grip further. “No. Listen to me, Y/N,”
“What do you possibly have to say that will change anything between us?”
And maybe it was her fault for assuming that he wanted to fix things. The sliver of hope thinly dressed behind closed lids enabled her to think that maybe he was going to say that he wanted to make things work again. That he had broken up with Camille and he realized what a stupid he had done throwing away everything they built up to for the past four years for an affair that couldn’t quench the thirst of his desire to have a family.
Harry sighed, a shadow of mischievous smirk painted on his lips. But maybe it was Y/N’s sight in deception because she could never see Harry as anything other than sweet and kind Harry incapable of hurting a fly.
“What? I don’t intend to. We’re broken. We’re beyond fixing,”
The hitch in her breath was as sharp as the stare he was searing her with. Forcing her to please understand that this would be their last conversation--if time and fate were on their side. “You’re not something I would take the time to handle,”
“Stop saying shit you don’t mean, Harry” Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. His macho act was barely an act and more like a stage curtain easily pushed with a flick of a wrist.
“Things I don’t mean?”
“You heard me,” She crossed her arms over his chest in defence, leaning against the closed trunk. “Say what you will but our love was real. Don’t make me seem like I’m crazy. Don’t tell me that I’m a mistake,” Her voice was filled with confidence because she knew the affection that Harry diffused.
The cradles of his palm at the small of her back when they had to walk past a crowd. The subtle graze of the back of his fingers caressing the bare skin of her arm. Kisses pressed to her temple as she read a novel and swirling fingertips twirling her hair. These were acts of love that happened nearly every day in their relationship. A routine that felt different if it wasn’t done to or with each other.
Exasperatedly, Harry felt the same itching crawling up his spine. His ego ballooning into a delicate size and one more word from Y/N’s lush lips would have him on his hands and knees, begging for her back.
“This, us, was a fuckin’ mistake,” Harry’s accent thunked heavily in her cochlea, practically spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were poisonous. Ringed fingers gesticulated the space between them to emphasize how much of a misunderstanding they truly were. “I should’ve known the second things went further than planned,”
Y/N felt her heart drop to her full stomach. The feeling so nauseating that she instinctively palmed her belly over the fabric to protect her little baby from his harsh words. Even though they weren’t directed towards anyone but Y/N. She didn’t think that their unborn child deserved scrutiny from their own father.
“You don’t mean that, Harry.”
Because how could he? Not when he emulated sincerity through his syrupy voice. Not when he spent hours loving on her tummy and spoke to it like he would if she were pregnant. Especially not when every kiss from him felt like a buzz of electricity coursing through her veins because he was the main distributor of her happiness.
Harry truly was an asshole for making her hope and wonder of what the future held when he was unsure himself. He did want a family. That was a statement in all its truthfulness. What he wasn’t sure about was if he wanted a family with Y/N. He could have a family; kids of his own in his own time. But Y/N didn’t have to necessarily be the mother. So was he besotted with the concept of family and marriage regardless of who it was with?
“But I do,”
The rain started drizzling in frequent spurts, planting a fat droplet on her cheek that could be argued as a tear escaping Y/N’s eye. It hurt a lot to hear that from him. The man of her dreams blatantly denying each sugary word because his plans had changed.
“You’re a goddamn mistake is what you are,’
“Why are you. . .saying all these things to me? Are you trying to hurt me?” The shakiness of Y/N’s tone had Harry swallowing his words down his strep throat.
He shook his head in disagreement, “No, I’m not. ‘M just tryna make you see my side. So you can understand,” His head dipped to the side, softening his tone yet stern as though he was speaking to a child.
And that was one of the reasons why Y/N didn’t believe his all-too stoic demeanour about her. Harry was great at making others see his side regardless of how much in the wrong he was.
So why was he struggling?
___
Needless to say, he wasn’t very respectful towards Y/N any other time afterwards. He had unblocked her number months after blocking it at one point and demanded answers that he didn’t have the right to know. In retrospect, Harry was embarrassed by the way he acted. He did cheat on her and suddenly he was a saint because she moved on quicker than he thought she would? Unbelievable.
In his defence, the night he became the drunk caller was the same night he fought with Camille about having children; having a family they can call their own. Ever since that discussion did Harry notice a dispatch in their relationship. It was like they were aware of a missing link that had disappeared in their connection, but neither one of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. Harry supposed that now that Camille knew what he wanted (and vice versa)--she was feeling the pressure of giving in to him. Don’t get him wrong, Harry absolutely wanted a family and he thought that Camille was the right partner to build it with. However, he couldn’t help the voice at the back of his mind slyly whispering that he had forced her to give him what he wanted for the sake of saving their failing relationship.
___
It had been two and a half years since he mildly and miserably accepted that his dream family was being erased like a pencil on paper.
The first year; Harry still clung to the obscure hope that Camille might change her mind of having kids. Many fights sprouted between the two of them concluding in them sleeping at different places for weeks on end until they eventually crawled back to each other like an invisible string. The second-year; Harry brought up the idea of adoption. It was a hard choice for him as he desperately wanted kids of his own. A boy that looked like him and his love or a little girl that smiled at him with deep dimples mirroring his own.
And Harry liked to think that he was just on the edge of convincing Camille to consider the option when his tour was scheduled a few months after. A new dealbreaker was that Harry wasn’t going to be around much to watch and nurture the little bub they might’ve adopted. It was a sudden intrusion to think about since Harry was good with kids. He knew that. That was why he had three godchildren of his own. But what hit him the most was how sure Camille sounded when she yelled at him about leaving for months at a time and returning for a bit, only to leave again. Now, Harry hadn’t considered that part. But surely he will be ready to choose between a family and his career, right? When the time comes, he thought.
___
It pained Harry to admit that his relationship with Camille was dwindling down the drain. The knowledge that there was no future--the one that Harry envisioned--for them was getting more and more real each passing day. 
A late-night grocery trip was one of the many examples that had Harry rethinking his actions for the past couple of years. It was the time period where night owls arose and barely any customers littered the aisles. Still, Harry made sure to keep his hoodie up to shield his face.
Camille had an early flight to Milan in just a few hours later that day and she wanted to purchase some things to bring with her; in case they weren’t available in the country. So here they were at three in the morning.
As Camille walked ahead of him in her sweatpants and a plain tee, Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker to the clothing section to his right The first-floor space was decorated with pastel blues and pinks; a stroller was displayed with a price would not make a dent in Harry’s bank account.
“‘M just gonna grab somethin’ over here, Cam,” Harry muttered as he pointed a thumb behind him. She nodded, “Meet me at the produce? Need to get you some fruits,”
Harry felt guilt thudding his chest because although he was losing feelings he thought were written in stone, Camille appeared to care for him the same way she always had.
He walked to the brightly lit area, puffing his cheek as a cute onesie caught his eye, “You’re so golden” with the word ‘golden’ printed in a shiny, yellow glimmer. He smiled at the thought of baby angel cooing at him as he tickled her tummy. Harry passed by the shoes next, picking up a pair barely the size of his palm. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Y/N years ago,
___
“I’m just saying,” Y/N took a bite of a pickle she held on her left hand, “Baby shoes have no business being that expensive,”
Harry chuckled from his place across the counter, “Babies need shoes too, love,’
She grabbed her fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry from her bowl, “I didn’t say the don’t need shoes. For tiny things, they could at least be a bit cheaper,”
Harry watched as she munched on a pickle on her left and took a bite of a strawberry on the other. His tongue poked out in a gag at the odd combination, resorting in glare and a huff from Y/N.
“You should try it instead of judging me,’
“No, thank you. Watching you eat it is enough for me,’
___
Harry craned his head at each aisle, hoping to find Camille and to distract himself from the endless Y/N related thoughts that somehow returned to his brain. He needed his girlfriend to remind him that he cannot just knock on Y/N’s door and ask her about the baby she has. If he could hold them for a bit because his baby fever was through the roof.
Locating the produce section, Harry whistled mindlessly as he searched for a blonde head of hair, failing to notice that there was a basket in front of his feet. He had kicked it, jolting him out of his thoughts in a hurry.
A man with brown hair sporting an outfit similar to his (sweats and a hoodie), chuckled at him as Harry leaned down to retrieve the gray basket filled with a jar of pickles.
“Sorry man,” Harry muttered, holding the handles up for the man to carry.
“It’s alright, it happens,” The guy had not seen his face yet, too busy inspecting the carton of strawberries.
He decided to continue the conversation, “Strawberries and pickles? Odd combo, huh,” Harry was briefly reminded of Y/N’s obsession with the two rival products.
“Yeah, m’lady loves ‘em. Had a craving in the middle of the night. She’s in the car right now with our lil bubba,”
Harry’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. He needed to get his rails in check. He cannot keep having his heart bursting with adoration at the mere mention of a baby.
“I’m Connor,” He said, finally facing Harry after choosing the best carton.
“I'm--,”
“Harry!” Both men turned their heads towards Camille carrying a basket full fruits and green veggies, “Got you some stuff to blend for your smoothies,”
Connor squinted his eyes at the couple and Harry internally screamed because he knew that he and Camille had been recognized. “Harry. Yeah, I know you,” The sudden hostility made Harry confused as Connor grasped his basket from him in a harsh manner, heading towards the checkout.
The rest of the time inside the store was filled with curiosities as Harry carried the paper bags towards the car, barely recognizing Connor’s figure heading towards his own vehicle. Luckily, Harry has parked only a few slots away and could inconspicuously watch Connor and his so-called ‘lady’.
Except, Camille was ushering him to hurry up as she still had a few things to pack at home.
___
On most days, Harry was used to waking up alone. Used to feeling the shiver crawling up his side, used to seeing the indent left by Camille’s body instead of her. He had grown familiar with the sudden cast of loneliness blanketing him thicker than the duvet on top of his body.
The early morning trip to the store had tired him out, paired with the overthinking of the man named ‘Connor’ that flipped his attitude towards him quicker than he could kick the grey basket with his feet. He flopped back to the mattress after washing his face and brushing his teeth. It was noon when he jolted out of bed again at the sound of his front door opening, voices filling the empty space that had Harry running towards the foyer in case there was an intruder.
His tense shoulders sagged in relief when he caught sight of his mum and Gemma, “Oh, s’just you guys,”
Both women looked up at him at the top of the stairs, “You forgot we were coming over for the weekend, didn’t you?” Gemma teased as she headed to the living room. Harry followed, walking down the stairs.
He scratched the nape of his neck nervously, “No. . . “
“Can you help me reach this, H?” Anne called out from the kitchen.
His mum gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, you did, by the way. Slept through the whole morning. Good thing Camille let us in before she left,”
At the sound of a bag crumpling and squeals echoing the hollow house, Harry scrunched his nose in curiosity, briskly walking where Gemm was currently holding up tiny baby clothes in front of her. “Who’s that for?” He thought of any possible friends that had had a baby recently but couldn’t recall any.
She immediately stuffed the clothing into the bag, nervously placing a hand on her chest, “Gosh, Harry, you scared me,” Her brows went high on her forehead in alarm, sharing a look with her mum trailing behind Harry.
“Well? Did I miss something?”
“Oh, it’s for one of my friends,”
Harry contemplated on his next words, “D-did you know that Y/N had a baby?” It couldn’t be right if his sister and mum knew about his exes baby and not him, right? That’s just plain odd to still be in touch with an ex's family. His brows furrowed in suspicion as both of them declined his question.
“What? Nooo,”
Awkward silence filtered through the air as Anne sipped water from her mug and Harry was slowly putting the pieces together. Gemme dove to the centre of the couch where her phone was when it rang suddenly, surprising all three of them. Harry was quicker, eyeing his mum and sister and inspecting the emoji substituting as a name before sliding his thumb to answer it.
"Hey, Gems! Are you coming to the park? We're waiting for you,”
Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach just as the phone nearly slipped from his clutch. That voice. He could recognize it from everywhere having spent nearly every morning for the four years that they were together hearing it lulling him out of sleep. It was Y/N’s voice calling his sister who was looking extremely anxious.
He tapped on the ‘mute’ button, “What does she mean ‘we’?”
“Nothing! Give me my phone back,” Gemma tried to reach for the device but Harry held it high beyond her reach.
“I saw the picture you sent me. I told you that you and Anne didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry felt dizzy. “Connor and I got some things a few weeks ago. But that skirt is so adorable!”
One part of him was glad to hear her voice. In fact, Harry found himself smiling too, despite what he just heard. Connor. “Harry, won’t be there right? Hello? Have I been talking to myself this whole time,” Y/N laughed a little; she had a habit of talking endlessly when she was excited. It made Harry more sombre, letting his guards down and his arm in reach for Gemma to grasp.
“Hey! I'm just organizing the clothes, see you soon!" Gemma jammed her finger on the red end call, anxiously glancing at her brother, piecing everything together.
“Who's Connor?" Could it be that the Connor he met last night was the same as Y/N’s? The one who bought pickles and strawberries--one of Y/N favourite food combinations? He mentioned that he had a little girl and Y/N just called to meet his sister and his mum at the park. And baby clothes?
Anne and Gemma looked at each other, quickly deciding that for the benefit of Harry that they should tell him at least a little bit. He was looking as if he was going insane, especially with his bed head pointing his hair out in different directions.
“He’s Y/N’s partner”
Harry gulped, reeling his thoughts to a halt, “Partner? And the baby is...?” The last bit of confirmation was all he needed to lash his feelings out.
“Is... waiting for us at the park! Sorry H gotta go,” Gemma was swift enough to gather all the bags without having Harry chase after her. His state of confusion and shock was enough to render him partially speechless and immobile.
“Hey wait!”
Anne garnered his attention, “Oh, Mrs. Q from next door wants me over for dinner. I’m sure wants to see us both. Why don’t you get ready, Harry?” Anne tugged his arm in the direction of the staircase pushing him to stumble up a couple of steps.
Harry was confused. He made the sounds of his footsteps creeping up the wooden stairs, hearing his mum quietly talking to Gemma on the phone, “Elmsway Park, you said? How long till you're home? I’m not sure how long I can keep him occupied,”
With that being said, Harry was out of his house, silently unlocking and locking the door. He was dressed in some basketball shorts and a graphic tee, slipping on the first pair of sneakers he had tossed aside. Harry jogged to his car, typing in the name of the park on his phones’ GPS. The route was only a few minutes away so he decided to take his time, gathering his scattered thoughts along the way.
He parked just beside the playground scouting the trees around the premises. Harry decided that it was the perfect day. The sun was out. It wasn’t too humid and the birds were chirping on the branches. He could see why the playground was full of children running around in delight. The green patches of grass were partially filled with picnic blankets and food to be shared. Families laughed with each other as one in particular caught his eye.
It made him smile at first, seeing just how adorable the couple was with their baby. He exited the car, making sure to lock the vehicle. With his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his shorts, Harry could feel the tethered grass rubbing against his legs. As he got closer, he couldn’t help the twinge of familiarity spark in his chest, recognizing that what he was staring at was Connor playfully chasing a little girl of about two-years-old as she squealed at how close he was getting to tagging her.
Harry stood by a tree, shielding him away from view. He tried to appear invisible without seeming too creepy. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes found the woman he had been missing, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Connor picked up the little girl in his arms, dotting pecks all over the girls’ cheeks, causing her to giggle and push his face away with a tiny palm. And there she was standing outside the raised platform of the playground, coming up to the both of them with a juice box in hand to hydrate the little angel. Connor turned his attention to Y/N, planting the most adoring kiss on her lips that made her smile so wide and the baby cover her eyes. They laughed together, looking like a picture-perfect family.
Gemma sat on the bench, flickering her gaze to the precious family in front of her and to the figure of her brother walking away from the scene. Her heart broke for Harry, and it cracked, even more, when he turned back. This time, watching Connor and Y/N cheer on baby angel to go down the slide. Both of them clapped their hands in enthusiasm as the girl hesitantly slid down the plastic slide. The smile on her face was infectious.
It almost made Harry smile, too.
___
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Trial aka pt 4 is already up on Patreon! (link in bio)
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mellifluoushood · 4 years
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Today, I Saw The Whole World, And It Was Right In Front Of Me - C.H.
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Inspired by @ammwritings​ custom moodboard
A/N: So, I was inspired by Anne’s moodboard that she made for me about getting stoned with Calum and listening to records, so I thought I would write a fic about it. As always, let me know what you think and send requests if you have any! I’ll be finishing ships tonight. xx Genre: angst / fluff / smut Type: blurb / imagine / series Warning: heavy mentions of drug use (smoking weed), some sexual content (not sex, but very close) Word Count: 6k (I got so unbelievably carried away. I wish I could say I was sorry. But I’m not.) Taglist: @gigglyirwin​ @loveroflrh​ @ammwritings​ @calumscalm​ Playlist: Weed Music
Red eyes watch as she throws her head back, laughing at some meaningless joke thrown around the room. Her laugh echoes with others, bouncing off the painted white walls surrounding them. Her head swims back around when someone elbows her gently and hands her the joint. She smiles, bringing it to her lips and inhaling hard. She feels the toke sit in her mouth before filling her lungs with another breath. She holds it, gently opening her mouth and allowing the smoke to spill out of her mouth. She sits, shivering slightly, focusing on the joint and sparing a glance around the room.
Her friends sit, smiling amongst their newly formed conversations. She watches languidly, lazily repeating her motions a few more times before passing it to the person on her right. She feels her body begin to melt into the sofa underneath her, slowly relaxing. She can feel the way her muscles welcome the plush couch, the black, soft fabric brushing against her bare thighs and warming up her body even farther. Her mind eases into its far corner, letting the high slowly crawl its way into her system.
She hears the end of a conversation before starting a new one with Crystal, sitting to her left. She smiles and asks about her day, listening to the accent drip around her slowly. She watches as her friend talks with her hands, her thick American accent capturing her attention. She listens to the pronunciations and lilts in her tone. She sits and listens and listens.
The anxiety that had made a home in her shoulders slowly rests, her neck tilting to the right and letting out a satisfying crack. She repeats thoughtlessly with the other side, feeling the way that her body is responding to her high. Her toes begin to tingle lightly whilst the warmth bubbling in her chest spreads through her bloodstream, occupying the tips of her fingers and her lower tummy. She still concentrates on her friend, responding only when needed.
She hears the start of a song, another one of her friends, Ashton, connecting his phone to her Bluetooth speaker that had fallen silent a few moments before, letting the song play out. Her focus turns to the music when her friend receives another joint and stops talking. She can feel her head tilting back against the cushion behind her head, resting as her blood pumps at its own pace. She soaks it in.
Her eyes switch between the people in front of her, observing mannerisms in the way they sit and express themselves that she was always aware of when sober, but particularly aware of as she sits high.
“You okay over there?” Ashton asks her and she chuckles at his question.
“I’m fine,” her voice is smooth, low and raspy from the smoke that had been brushing her airways a few moments before then. The friend on her left passes her the joint and she smiles at her with thanks, “Do you guys know how much I smoke?”
Ashton shakes his head and she looks over at Calum, “Have you not told them?”
“No,” Calum shrugs from her right side, “Didn’t want to air your dirty laundry.”
“Dirty laundry, my arse,” she chuckles again. Her motions are languid as she brings the roach to her mouth, over and over, sucking down the smoke with ease, “I’m not ashamed. I mean, c’mon, I wear marijuana socks and post pictures and videos to my private story.”
“Guess we’re not on your private story then,” Michael jokes and she rolls her eyes at him.
“Didn’t think you wanted to see what a pothead I am,” she comments before passing her joint to Calum. She slowly stands up from her spot on the couch, stretching slightly, her long sleeve shirt riding up, exposing her belly button piercing and tattoo on her left hip. She leisures over to her purse sitting on the dining room table in the other room, rustling through to find her bag, tobacco, grinder and papers. She returns to her spot on the couch, opening her bag and lifting it to her nose. She inhales, noting the strong hints of pineapple and she smiles,
“God, I love my dealer,” she shakes her head, taking another puff before picking out a few nuggets and placing them in the grinder. The boys and their girlfriends watch with intrigue, surprised at her mannerisms.
“I feel like I’m really getting to know you right now,” Ashton mutters, looking at a girl he didn’t expect to be such an avid smoker, rolling a joint like a professional. She looks up at him and shakes her head with a small smile, grinding the weed down to small pieces. She puts the grinder on the living room table before taking a paper out of its packet and a piece of cardboard from the same packet, rolling the cardboard to form a roach. She places it in the paper on the far left side. She opens the pack of tobacco sitting in her lap and begins to sprinkle strands along the paper.
“You use tobacco?” Luke asks.
“Yeah. It helps it burn better and slower. It also makes the high go straight to your brain. You Americans don’t know how to smoke,” she chuckles, “Blunts without tobacco or a roach. A disgrace,” she criticises and Ashton’s eyebrows raise, realising that she’s much more experienced than any of them would have guessed. Calum sits to her right, watching her hands move for the grinder and fill the paper with the weed. She sprinkles a fair amount before beginning to smooth it down by rubbing the ends of the paper together. He watches as she tucks the edge into the joint, rolling the paper over itself until it formed a cylindrical cone. He swallows slightly, the own high seeping through every centimetre of his brain when her tongue pokes past her lips licking the adhesive of the paper and secures the glue against the joint. She smooths it out, running her fingers up and down, making Calum look away before a tent formed in his sweats at the thought of her fingers elsewhere.
She taps the bottom of the joint against the hardwood surface of the table before taking the base of a pen and packing the weed firmly. She sticks the joint in her mouth and lights it up when she’s finished. She sparks the paper and it burns quickly, the emptiness allowing the flame to consume it before it hits the packed weed and tobacco. She inhales then, taking three tokes straight off the bat. She lets the smoke linger out of her mouth before she sucks it in through her nose, exhaling again after.
“Also, you don’t puff-puff pass. You take your time, you enjoy yourself. You end up with the same amount of weed in your system, but you’re not in a rush and you enjoy smoking,” she comments, smiling around the roach in her mouth, pinching the spliff in between her thumb and forefinger. She takes a strong toke, letting it sit her lungs for a few moments, taking the joint from her lips and admiring her handiwork, “God, this is some good green. Pineapple express. It tastes so good,” she brings the joint back to her lips.
“How often do you smoke?” Luke asks the question on everyone’s mind. She thinks to herself, sitting back against the couch again after grabbing the ashtray off the table and resting it on her knees that she’s resting against her chest.
“I smoke every day. I have at least one joint... bare minimum. But, usually, I smoke about 2 or 3... if I meet up with my other group of friends,” she inhales again, “I can smoke upwards of 5 or 6.”
“Jesus Christ,” Michael mutters as she takes her last toke and hands it over to Calum.
“Don’t rush, enjoy it. Feel the music, feel the buzz,” she comments. Calum takes her advice, reclining just like she was and balances the joint in between his forefinger and middle finger like a cigarette. He inhales, admiring the taste of the green she had gotten from her dealer. He exhales, tasting the fruity, light aftertaste that lingers along his tongue and on his inner cheeks. He likes the heaviness of tobacco in the joint.
He throws his free arm around the girl to his left, pulling her to him. She rolls her eyes playfully, the high staining the whites of her eyes a deep red, her irises glassy. Calum’s own reflect similarly. When he looks down at her, she notices he’s a bit more stoned than her, his tolerance not quite as high. His pupils have dilated slightly and his body feels especially warm. She tucks her shoulder underneath his and leans her head on his chest. The people around the circle watch with a knowing smile at their affections. Not quite a couple, but not quite just good friends.
“Where’d you get this stuff?” Calum asks, exhaling the second toke he had taken. She shrugs,
“My dealer usually has a couple of different strains to choose from. If I bat my eyelashes at him, he usually will give me the best of the three and for less than what he charges other people.” Calum chuckles at her antics, ignoring the small twinge of jealousy that bubbles in the bottom of his stomach. He doesn’t want to picture the girl cuddled up to his chest fluttering her eyelashes at another man, a coy smile playing on her lips as she charms her way into good quality weed. He reasons with himself that he’d probably do the same if he was a girl.
“How often do you pick up?” Luke asks, watching Calum take his slow drags before passing it to him. Luke nods in gratitude before taking a drag himself and rolls the smoke around in his mouth before inhaling further and holding it. He exhales out of his nose, jutting out his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows, looking at the joint in his fingers, “This is some good shit.”
“Right?” She chuckles before paying attention to the question he had asked before, “Once or twice a week. Depends who I’m with that week and how much I charm him when I pick up.” Her eyes are hazy, looking around the circle at the boys and their girlfriends. Sierra’s legs are resting over Luke’s lap as she sits in between him and Ashton, Ashton’s back is pressed against the television stand and Michael and Crystal are cuddled up to his left. She notes Ashton didn’t bring his girl around and she makes a mental note to ask him about it later. He doesn’t seem to mind the couples around him, as the conversations tend to be open to everyone.
The joint gets passed around to everyone, reaching the owner. She takes another few drags before putting it out and rolling another one with the green left in the grinder. Conversations around her have bubbled up, gently humming over the distant lull of music in the background. She feels how relaxed the muscles in her cheeks are and the heaviness of her eyelids, but she basks in the relaxation and sensation the THC gives her.
Calum watches every single move she makes with hazy eyes and a small smirk on his face. His arm rests on the back of the sofa as he reclines into the cushions, spreading his legs covered in grey sweatpants. He kicks his feet up onto the living room table, his black socks matching the black tabletop. He pulls his hood up, over his platinum blond hair, the black hoodie blending in with the black cushions of the sofa. His eyes linger along the smooth skin of her bare arms, her breasts peeking out from the top of her tank top. Her legs are covered at the very top with shorts, black with white lining. Her socks have marijuana leaves on them as the hems tickle her upper calves. She looks relaxed. Her hair is down, cascading along her back and over her left shoulder.
He wants to push the admiration out of his mind, afraid of the rejection he was sure he would receive. He had heard her complain about a boy earlier to Sierra when she and Luke had arrived. He had peered around the corner of the kitchen entryway, her elbow against the kitchen counter and her face buried in her palm as she complained at his mixed signals and inability to not flirt with her, even after being rejected. He remembers the words she ended the conversation with: If only he would actually do something. He assumes there was a second guy involved, as she had explained to Sierra that she didn’t want to be with the mixed-signals guy. Sierra just chuckled and ran her hands through her hair to comfort her, who just sighed, I’m sure he’ll figure it out soon. He watched as she rolled her eyes, shaking her head, As fucking if. He remembers the feeling of his chest burning at her admission of having her eyes on a guy that wasn’t him. But, he pushed it away, focusing on the fact her right thigh was pressed tightly against his left.
When she finishes rolling her joint, she returns to her spot underneath Calum’s arm, relaxing against the couch and sparking the other joint. She bobs her head to the music in the background, closing her eyes and inhaling again and again and again. He’s addicted to watching her. He doesn’t try and hide the fact that he’s admiring every piece of her and every way she moves. When he looks away, he makes eye contact with Sierra, who had been watching the scene in front of her. Sierra sends him a nod, encouraging him. He shakes his head before turning his attention back to the woman underneath his arm.
Crystal and Michael strike up a conversation with Ashton when he sees Sierra lean over to whisper in Luke’s ear out of the corner of his eye. She says something to him and nods over to her. Luke’s eyes seem to make a connection with what she was talking about before he stands up and grabs his girlfriend’s hand,
“I think Sierra and I are gonna head up to bed,” he motions to the stairs that lead up to the guest rooms upstairs.
“Alright,” she smiles, “Night, babes,” she calls Sierra, her nickname for Sierra and her only. Sierra manoeuvres around the table to hug the girl on the couch. When Sierra leans down for a hug, admiring the blissed expression on her friend’s face, Calum watches as her lips move against her ear, unable to hear what she was saying to the woman under his arm. Calum turns his attention to Luke, who has a smirk resting on his lips as he quirks his eyebrows at him. Luke’s eyes are hazy, blurred with glassiness from the several joints passed around by numerous people. Calum slowly rolls his eyes and turns back to look at the woman next to him. Her attention is already on him as she hands him the second joint she had rolled, her own eyes complete glazed over as she looks at him. He smiles down at her, shaking his head and blowing air out of his nose as his way of laughing.
He listens as Sierra and Luke’s feet pad up the stairs and into the guest room they frequently stay in. Crystal follows Sierra’s actions from earlier, whispering something to both Ashton and Michael who don’t even question her. They repeat Luke and Sierra’s motions, sending Calum a look suggesting that he really should just make a fucking move. He has to resist the temptation of audibly telling them to ‘fuck off’, but he knows it would attract unnecessary attention from the girl next to him.
Once they’re alone after the last three have said their goodnights, Calum passes the joint back to the woman next to him. She hasn’t moved from her spot underneath his arm and he enjoys her proximity. He can smell the weed on her lips and the mix of her lavender shampoo. Her skin is tinted with a woodsy, pine smile, a musky perfume lingering on her pulse points as she rests her head even more on his chest. He smiles to himself, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and listening to the music on the speaker before Ashton cuts it off.
“Ah, fuck,” she mutters, sitting up, removing the warmth of her skin from his. Part of her is relieved she’s no longer touching Calum, but she feels the way his thigh burns against hers. Her heart feels like it’s about to beat out her chest, the small tingles he shoots up her spine sending her chest into an electric shock. She bites at her lip, her eyesight slightly blurry as she fumbles for her phone on the table. She switches on her own, smooth playlist and leaves the volume low enough that they can talk, but loud enough for it to not be awkward if they don’t.
She leans back again, not as close to Calum, afraid her heart might burst at the same proximity again, but Calum doesn’t seem to appreciate it. He pulls her to him again, murmuring, “Trying to run away from me, honey?”
Her breath wants to hitch, but she doesn’t let it. She simply rolls her neck from side to side, letting out a satisfying crack and settling into his frame. She inhales from her joint, just so she can exhale the nerves crawling up her neck and into her dry mouth, “No, just trying to be comfortable,” she hums. He can hear the teasing in her voice and he bites the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself in check because he’s not sure he can handle not saying anything or the rejection he’s positive will come after.
“Oh, am I not comfortable?” He teases in return and she turns her head up to look at him. Her lips are parted as she takes drag after drag from her joint, absentmindedly letting the smoke spill from the gap. He watches the trail of smoke fall from her cheeks and the way her eyes scan his face. She mentally memorises the place of his three birthmarks on his cheeks. She traces the five o’clock shadow along his jaw with her eyes and admires the slope of his nose. She notices the way his skin glows in the low light of the living room lamp. His platinum hair peeks out from underneath the hood of his jumper and her eyes trail down to his neck.
“You’re too comfortable,” she admits breathlessly, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. She quickly takes another drag off her joint, trying to cover up the tone of her voice. Calum doesn’t miss it, but he wonders if he imagines it when she passes the joint to him to finish. He takes it from her,
“Thank you, gorgeous.” He swallows once he finishes his sentence, bringing the joint to his lips, annoyed his filter failed him. He knows his guard falls when he’s stoned, but he didn’t expect it to fall around her. He hopes silently she won’t bring it up. But, he wasn’t that lucky,
“Gorgeous, huh?” She chuckles, looking up at him. He looks down at her, the plumpness of her cheeks and the glaze in her eyes. He traces the slope of her nose and curvature of her lips thoughtlessly, his pupils dilating at what they’re admiring. The weed lowers his inhibitions and he decides to just bite the bullet. If it goes badly, he can blame it on the green.
“You heard me,” he raises his eyebrows.
“I did?” She smiles lazily, sitting up a bit, turning to look at him. She’s scanning his body language, a languid movement of her eyes to see if she’s reading him right. If he wants what she wants. If he wants to pull her into his lap and have his way with her. He nods, taking the few last tokes in one go before leaning forward and putting the joint out in the ashtray. He surprises himself by grabbing the curves of her hips and pulling her into his lap. She rests her ass against his thighs, hers capturing his sides in between them. She bites at her lip and quirks her eyebrows,
“Whatcha doing there?” She teases, moving her hands up his chest and to the back of his neck, using the back of her hands to push the hood off his head. She exposes his platinum, glistening blond hair to the glow of the living room lamp. Her eyes admire the sides of his hair growing out, his roots a deep brown colour, contrasting against the bleached tips.
“Getting a better look,” he says thoughtlessly. Any inhibitions he had disappeared, the weed burying them deep in a part of his brain he can’t access in his high. He’s admiring the way she fits against his body. He runs his hands up and down the dip of her waist and the plumpness of her thighs.
“Didn’t think it was as good as a view as mine,” she responds, leaning forward slightly. Her hands began to brush along the back of his neck, her bare skin against his making Calum shiver.
“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “Today, I saw the whole world. And it was right in front of me.”
She bites at her bottom lip to keep from her smile widening, but he watches as the corner of her lips. It causes Calum’s lips to quirk into a smile as well. Her eyes are stained red, just like his. She uses the tip of her fingers to run up and down his spine before he sits up a little more. His hands find themselves resting on her upper thighs, his fingertips digging just slightly into the flesh.
She has no response and he knows she wants him to make the first move. He removes one hand from her thighs, using it to brush her hair behind her ear,
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, licking his bottom lip and looking down at her lips. She repeats his actions before he hears a small, breathless, ‘Yes’ escape her lips. He leans forward, his lips just brushing hers, barely pressed. She pushes hers against him, harder. His lips are hot against hers and her mouth tastes like weed and tobacco to him. There’s an underlying sweetness to her skin and he loves it. He uses his hand to grip the side of her face, pulling her even closer to him. He runs the hand on her thigh up to her lower back, pushing her even further into his chest.
Their lips pull apart for a moment before slotting against each other again, her hands running from his neck to his hair, threading their way through his strands. Her heart is pounding out of her chest and her limbs feel like they’re vibrating. Calum’s heart is soaring as high as he is, his hands desperate to hold her as close to him as possible, not willing to ever let her go. She leans further into him, pressing her lips against his over and over, her movements becoming more forceful as he exhales every piece of his consciousness into her. Her chest burns with happiness and Calum’s lips can’t help but smile against hers.
With their heads swimming, they press closer and closer, lips slotting over and over, Calum’s grip on her never letting up. He’s the first to lick his tongue along her bottom lip. She parts them, welcoming the heat of his tongue into her mouth. She presses her tongue along his, their lips meeting time and time again. Their breathing starts to become laboured, desperate for the air the other is releasing, their bodies pressed together. They feel so warm against the other, their feelings bubbling to the surface at finally having their release of emotion.
Her hands move from his hair to the bottom of his jumper, tugging at the hem. His hands move to hold hers for a moment before breaking apart, just a second, to tug the jumper over his head and throw it onto the couch next to them. They’re panting and she grabs his face in between her hands, desperate to have her lips touch his again. They slot their lips over and over, tongues lingering within each kiss, familiarising with the taste of the other. Calum uses his hands to run up the soft skin of her stomach underneath her shirt. She shivers at the gentleness of his touch, memorising the way her ribs heave with each desperate breath she takes against her lips. He grabs at the hem of her shirt, tugging the way she had. She breaks apart from him, allowing him to pull the tank top over her shoulders. When the shirt is discarded, Calum leans back slightly, admiring the way her breasts are pushed up by her royal blue bra.
His lips meet hers, once, and then twice, before moving down to her jaw, running his lips along the bone. She tilts her head back, feeling the way his hands have imprinted themselves into her lower back, her hair tickling the back of his hands. His large hands take up so much surface on her back, feeling his warm skin against hers. Her hands grip at Calum’s neck, her nails dig into his shoulders as his lips move lower and lower, along the expanse of her goosebump ridden neck. She sighs, his plush, swollen lips leaving small wet, open-mouthed kisses. She rolls her lips between her teeth, moving her head to the side, her red eyes opening to look at the man who’s gently kissing down her neck.
“Cal,” she sighs and she feels the way his lips curl up into a cheshire grin. At the base of her throat, he wraps his lips around her skin, gently pulling and sucking, licking over the area. She rolls her hips against his without thinking and a deep groan rumbles underneath his chest. She rolls her hips again, satisfying the burning erupting between her legs as she feels how firm he is. He groans again, sucking harder against her neck and her throat rasps out a whimper. Every single movement is heightened, intensified as her high lingers in her veins, alighting her nerves, allowing Calum’s touch to cause explosions in her blood.
His hands run up from their space along her back, over her ribs and to cup her breasts through her bra. She lets out a small moan as he gently applies pressure, testing just how far she wants him to go. After suckling against her neck, he removes his lips, moves them a little higher along her neck and suckling, nipping and licking again. He wants to see the way the blood raises to the surface, bruising and marking up her pretty neck. He’s never seen that before and god, he thinks she’ll look beautiful with his marks all over her. Calum’s heart and stomach flutter at her touch, her fingertips pressing into him, the way that her body responds to his touches. He’s doing this to her. He’s pleasing her.
“Oh,” she moans quietly when he suckles particularly hardly and Calum applies more pressure to her chest. His hands move from the cups of her bra to just underneath the band of it, to ask if he can.
“Please take it off, Calum,” she asks breathlessly. He complies, hands wandering to her back to unclasp the bra. The straps loosen on her shoulders and shrugs it off. Calum removes his lips from her neck and leans back, staring at the perkiness of her breasts. He runs his hands along the underside, watching the way they move with the movement of his hands.
“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, admiring their shape. Her nipples are hard, poking against his palms as he runs the full expanse of his hand over her breasts. She takes his distraction as a chance to plant her lips to his neck. He sighs through his nose as she traces her tongue, gently, from the base of his neck to the space where his jaw and neck meet. She traces his pulse point with the tip of her tongue before sinking her teeth gently into the flesh. A groan rumbles from between his lips and he can’t help but knead the tender flesh with his hands, trying to focus on the way her body reacts to his touch. She suckles along his pulse point, feeling the way his body radiates heat against her face. She leaves mark after mark, scattering them along the expanse of her neck as Calum leans back and lets her have her way with him.
When she pulls away, their chests are heaving, bare and glowing in the light of the living room. The music in the background switches and Calum’s lips find hers again. Their lips are tender, swollen and red with friction, slotting over and over again. Calum uses his hands to press her to him as close as possible, their bare chests touching. Her hands wander along his shoulders, up to his neck and his hair, down again and repeating her motions, slowly as their tongues brush again and again.
Their highs are pushed to the back of their minds as they bask in the feeling of their kisses, their touches, their movements. She rolls her hips against his again, his cock straining against his grey sweatpants. The firmness sends tingles up her spine as she rolls her hips over and over again. Calum’s hands move from her back and to her lips, guiding her against him as his eyebrows furrow together. Warmth spreads in his stomach at the friction and she breaks away from him, letting out sigh after sigh with each roll of her hips against him.
“Cal-” she whines quietly, pressing her forehead against his, bare chest heaving with each laboured breath, her eyes pressed shut. He watches her with butterflies in his stomach, violently fluttering and fanning the flames in his lower tummy. She looks so beautiful, her eyebrows furrowed as her mouth drops open, feeling the way the friction of their hips moving both satisfying and aggravating the bubbling of lust in her belly. She opens her eyes, meeting Calum’s, who’s focused eyes and parted lips are hung on his face. He looks incredible with his glazed brown irises, plush limps plumped even more, red with blood linger at the surface. She leans forward and captures his bottom lip between her teeth without breaking eye contact and he lets out a small moan.
“I’m going to,” he sighs, guiding her hips faster and harder against his. She encourages him, smiling down with hooded eyes and her lips parted,
“C’mon, baby,” she sighs. Calum’s eyebrows furrow as the heat in his stomach intensifies tenfold, the friction sending sparks and fireworks off in his lower tummy. Her words, her voice, her sighs send him over the edge, his toes curling and throwing his head back. His orgasm is prolonged by the weed in his system, his brain swimming with nothing and everything. His limbs vibrate, tingles rolling up his spine as he releases in his briefs. He’s clutching her hips so hard as she continues to move with purpose. His eyes flutter open, the aftershocks of her movements tweaking every nerve in his body.
Her lips are rolled between her teeth as she bites down. She looks down at him with determination and he starts moving his hands again, guiding her over and over against his still hard cock.
“You going to come for me, doll?” Her eyebrows furrow as she nods, resting her chin against her chest as she feels the beginning of her climax rolling in waves between her legs. He presses a kiss to her lips, gently coaxing the orgasm that was so obviously ready to tip her over the edge, “I know you want to, doll. Cum for me the way I came for you.”
His words make her insides twist and release, dropping her orgasm on her like a bomb, “Oh, shit, Calum.”
Her jaw drops as he gently rocks her against himself, letting her bask in every single electric spark in her nerves like he did. Her shoulders tense and relax, her stomach muscles flexing against his torso as she finishes, her body spasming with each movement of her hips.
She presses her hands to Calum’s chest when she’s finished, feeling his pounding heartbeat under her palm. She looks at him in the eyes, blurry from her high and her orgasm. Adoration is woven in her pupils as they adjust to the light of him in front of her.
“Hi,” he sighs and she lets out a blissed-out giggle.
“Hi,” she repeats, resting her head on his bare shoulder. She curls up against his chest. Calum’s hands find their way up to her back, stroking the skin and rubbing her back as she evens out her breathing. He’s sitting there, in disbelief of what happened, with no complaints at all.
“I enjoyed that,” she mutters, sitting upright again, looking Calum in the eyes.
“I too enjoyed that,” his voice is raspy and he grasps her face in his hands, “I want that again. And again, and again, and again...” he trails off and she smiles down at him.
“How about a date first?”
“Deal.”
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birdscreeches · 4 years
Text
The River | Aisha R.
Five days before Miles Santos dies, the sink in his bathroom breaks. 
It started with a trickle of water dripping from the pipes underneath before growing into a spurting torrent that soaks his knees. This is what he gets, he muses, for not switching to water replication plumbing. He goes through his things looking for anything to fix it, but his condo is a crowded mess of wires and screens. Miles manages to find a roll of duct tape tangled within an extension cord. 
With shaking hands, testaments to the sleepless nights of the past week, he wraps the leaking pipe with tape. Outside, his tablet continues playing the video he left it on. The voices drift into the room quietly, bouncing off the porcelain. Soft, pattering sounds of disaster. 
“—the eye of typhoon Tomas was located, based on all available data, at 2,635 kilometers east of Southern Luzon. This is still outside of the Philippine Area of Responsibility. It has maximum sustained winds of 130 kilometers per hour and a gustiness of up to 160 kilometers per hour. It is moving west at 30 kilometers per hour. This typhoon is expected to enter PAR by Saturday—”
Water slips past his fingers and soaks his arms. It splashes against his face, sharp and cold. Miles coils tape around the pipe over and over, choking the water back in the place until finally, the pipes yield.
“—when we say super typhoon, it has to sustain a wind speed greater than 220 kilometers per hour. Typhoon Tomas is not a super typhoon, but it still has a long way to go above water before it reaches landfall and thus has the potential to, ah, acquire more strength.”
“So it’s possible for typhoon Tomas to become a super typhoon.”
“There is a possibility—”
Miles’ hands are soaked. His shirt is damp. His bathroom floor is a glorified puddle and he’s kneeling in it, an attempt for absolution. It’s a flimsy attempt at best, he thinks. He will never be clean again.
He stands up from the mess he’s made, sits down at one of his monitors. Still cold and rapidly becoming colder, he types and creates a monster.
-
Is it done?
yes 
am i good now
No, you still have to install it.
We’ll also need a physical copy on a hard drive.
A team will come by next week to confiscate all your equipment.
It will all be compensated for, so you don’t have to worry.
okay
when will the payment come through
After we have the system and after you install it.
you’re sure
Yes.
I’ll text you again with details for the drop.
Stay updated.
-
Three days before Miles Santos dies, the traffic on slows to an unbearable crawl right on the bridge of Marcos Highway. Trapped from every angle, at mercy to the sheer power of unmoving vehicles, Miles has no choice but to see the river. He could keep his gaze straight, focus on every detail of the truck in front of him, but the river would snake its way into view. From his periphery into his mind, the river is there, demanding attention, until he can’t help but turn to look at it.
Already, the water is higher than usual. The surface ripples with turbulence as it rushes forth, crashing against the concrete bed that slopes down from the riverbanks. There was a time when those banks were nothing but the same earth and silt it had always been, but Miles couldn’t remember it. He was born only after they started constructing the improved channel. He grew up climbing over chain link fence with his friends, a flattened cardboard box in hand. On summer days, the river was docile. Dry. Just a trickle of water in a ditch too large. Miles and his friends would sit on the edge of the concrete slope, cardboard safely under him, and push off the edge, sliding down to the sound of laughter and a barangay tanod yelling at them to get the fuck outta here, stupid goddamn kids. 
The pillars shake Miles out from his memory. On the edge of the concrete slopes, tall, grey magnetic pillars stuck out every few meters. Unactivated, they stood silently. Watchtowers over a vicious beast.
There is a barrage of beeping from behind him. Miles scrambles to step on the gas and drive forward.
The truck in front of him stops. Miles brakes. Alone in his car, he feels he can’t breathe. The river is there. A chill wells up deep in his stomach, branching out to his body. A restless energy.
Miles drums his fingers on the wheel and slowly, as the cars inch forward, rain begins to fall. 
It’s hours before he gets to his mother’s house. The drive seemed like it wanted to drain the entire day away before he could live it. The house, fittingly enough, was gray and drab. The plants in the garden were alive, but slumped in lacking care. The paint of the gate was peeling, showing off the hard metal underneath. His mother’s house looks like as if all the days had drained away years ago.
His mother is much the same.
The mother he grew up with was sharp and nagging. Always scolding him for every mess and mistake, pushing him to be better, yet never showing him anything more than an absent nod for his achievements, too busy with cooking for the small carinderia she ran on her own. Now, too old to work, she sat in a house Miles got for her the moment he had enough money to, out and away from Tumana and into the quieter neighborhoods of Antipolo. Her edge had been weathered down by time into something weaker, but no less biting. Her memory was fuzzy at the edges, always calling Miles by the wrong name, or forgetting the date today, or forgetting that she had forgotten in the first place.
Miles came over every other week to have lunch with her, whether she liked it or not. Today’s lunch had passed in the same old questions followed by the same old silences. 
He helps his mother from the dining table back to the living room. She reclines in her rocking chair, and massages her temple. “Matt---”
“Miles,” he reminds her. 
“Miles, habang nandito ka pa, ayusin mo nga yung TV,” she says. “Ang choppy ng signal ‘tas ang hina pa nga ng volume, wala na akong marinig.”
“Ma, computer science yung alam ko, hindi engineering.” 
She scoffs. “Sana nag-doktor ka na lang.”
Miles doesn’t say anything. He simply stands to fix the TV if only to escape another endless circle of conversation.
He switches the TV on and watches the glitching static distort the face of a variety show host. The host’s grating laughter distorts through the speakers, an awful, terrible sound. As he unplugs and plugs different wires with barely trembling hands, the noise flits in and out. Miles manages to get the volume up higher again, like his mother wants it, and his own voice finds its own sound.
“Ma, medyo busy ako for the next few weeks, ha.” With a hard thwack to the back of the TV, the screen phases into clarity. He looks at it instead of his mother, continuing. “I won’t be able to come by for a while, but, uh, I got a really big bonus at work, and I’ll forward the money to you, okay?”
“Ha?” His mother says, squinting past him to look towards the TV. “Anong sabi mo?” 
“Wala,” Miles shakes his head. “Wala, ma.”
-
11pm
MRMC Station 3, Tumana.
Don’t be late.
-
On the day Miles Santos dies, he goes back to where he used to live. He parks nearby, and walks through the rest. It was a part of the slums that had been demolished to make way for the large, hulking powerline that fed into the electric pillars of the river. Where once there was a cluster fragile houses Miles would once run and duck through, there was now just flat rubble and the metal reinforced wires trailing through, out and away. 
There are a few kids kicking a ball around, scuffing dirt and laughing. One of them kicks the ball too far, rolling towards Miles’ feet, and Miles forces a smile as he bends down to toss it back to them. He tries to forget he ever saw them, but when you see one person, the rest keep coming in. A fruit vendor passes, pushing his rickety cart filled with cool pineapple. Women with streaks in their hair snickering and gossiping. A stray dog following at the heels of a young girl.
Miles used to live here, and the ache of seeing the place again after working so hard to leave it thrums through every inch of his body.
All he wanted was better.
And look where that got him.
He arrives at the drop location hours early. In his car with his silence, he sits and watches the rain engulf him.
To his left, he can see the crowded Tumana slums barely illuminated by the dusk. It was home once, when he was smaller. Houses here were small and grimy and flimsy ribcages people would live in. The streets and pathways would get narrower and narrower the deeper you went ,the ground a perpetual a slog of sticky earth and discarded garbage. The canals that ran through the barangay were as sleek and high tech as the main river, with smaller but no less advanced magnetic pillars, but all the innovation had stopped there. The ribcage houses were finally safe from the river, but weren’t safe from everything else. 
To his right, the river slithers into his periphery, demanding attention. Next to one of the pillars sticking out of the concrete banks, there is a small building, STATION 3 emblazoned on the side in block letters, punctuated by frantic sprays of vandalism. The station was just one of many dotted along the length of the river. Manual control systems for the improved channels. Nobody’s used them in years.
Dusk bleeds into night. One by one, windows of the slums light up. Old school fluorescent lights mixing with the newer EMLED lights. 
Miles hears it before he sees it. The undeniable thrum of energy. Miles swears he feels the earth shift when. It does, in a sense. The magnetic pillars were a revolutionary piece of technology, but it took energy to power. More energy than can be taken without a price. 
The grey pillars light up, a soft, illuminated blue streaking across the center of each one. The top of the pillar beams out an arch of light connecting to another pillar on the opposite bank. Like dominoes, all the pillars buzz to life, creating an endless, unbreachable tunnel of energy. Rain that falls onto the magnetic field slides off, slipping into canals at the side that filter back into the river. Every canal and ditch is encased in a magnetic tunnel, pulsing through the roads, veins and arteries of rainwater filtering into the river. All the rain coming from the mountains, from the city gutters, from the sky mercilessly pounding rain into the earth. 
The Tumana slums tremble into darkness, all the power sucked into the cages keeping the water captive. 
Miles doesn’t do anything but breathe. The restless energy is gone, replaced instead by a deep, stinging chill that constantly scraping at the walls of who he is. He sits there, unmoving, and lets the rain and the night pass him by. 
He watches the magnetic field. Hours pass. The water rises. Rises. Rises past the riverbank, the magnetic field the only thing holding the water back from overflowing and drowning the slums just meters away.
Up ahead on the road, a nondescript red car parks in front of him, the headlights still on, shining directly into Miles’ eyes. The lights blink at him. Get in. He grabs an umbrella from the backseat and exits the safety of his car, brisk walks through the torrential downpour, hurriedly opens the door of the other car, and clambers into the passenger seat.
Four is sitting behind the wheel, phone in hand, idly swiping. He looks just about as pristine as Miles knew his own self was the opposite. Four looks up, eyes scanning over Miles’ soaked frame, bored and amused at the same time
“You really had to bring all the water with you, no?” Four asks, looking at Miles with that unimpressed gaze he always has.
“There’s a super typhoon,” Miles grits his teeth. “In case you haven’t noticed.”
“Touchy. I’m just joking,” he rolls his eyes then holds a hand out. “Physical copy?”
Miles digs a small plastic ziplock bag from his pocket. Inside, a small USB stick. He hands it over to Four who doesn’t even spare it a glance, stowing it in a side compartment without looking up from his phone. 
“No other copies exist?” 
“None.”
“Alright then, we’re nearly done,” Four says, tapping on his phone. “I’ve queued the payment transfer to go through once news sites start blasting the breaking news headlines. You get back into your car and follow me out and—”
“I’m not going.”
Four’s typing stops. He looks up and meets Miles’ gaze. Miles can’t find any shock in Four’s eyes. If anything, the only thing that’s there is a twinkle of intrigue. 
“You’re not?”
“I’m—” Miles tries to find his words, all feeling awkward and clunky. “I’m staying here. I’ll deploy the program here.”
There’s a beat of silence. The rain outside is coming down so strong, the noise blurs into a static. Everything and nothing. A held breath.
“Hm,” Four looks back to his phone. “That explains the payment thing. I wondered why the account wasn’t yours. Whose is it?”
“None of your business.”
Four actually laughs, and Miles thinks it looks like a snarl. “I guess you’re right. Do me a favor and wait til I’m out of the danger zone before you run the program, will you? The payment expires if any of my programs detect a sign of an untimely death.” Four swipes his finger across his phone and Miles hears his own phone ping. “This car’s details,” Four explains. “Watch over me while I drive.”
“Can I go now?” Miles says. He wants to get out of this car. He wants to never see Four again. He wants to never have met him in the first place.
“Sure,” Four smiles. A sneer trying to look kind. “This is good work you’re doing here. Remember that. Pleasure doing business with you, Santos.”
Miles gets out of the door and slams the door shut. Under his umbrella, he watches Four back the car up, turn, and drive away. 
He pulls out his phone and taps on Four’s car details. Miles watches his GPS show Four’s car drive further and further away. His trip is made short and smooth by clear roads. Too late and too rainy for anybody to drive out. People are in their homes, sleeping soundly. 
When Four passes the threshold into Quezon City, Miles closes his eyes. When he opens them, he can feel every drop of water on his skin like a knife pressing into him. In his hand, his phone feels like a grenade.
He opens his program. The pin is pulled.
Miles had created a lockpick. A universal lockpick. A program that could adapt to any system and open any doors. Untraceable, quick, and efficient. Creating the program was a long and delicate science of knowing where to make it prod and where to make it push. A balance between toeing the line and destroying it. He understands more than anybody the meaning of a breaking point and what happens when that point is pressed. 
It’s child’s play now. He runs his program remotely from his phone into the servers of the Station 3. From there, he watches it frolick along tens of security measures and failsafes. He watches it weave past all of them. He watches it mangle the system to pieces.
Miles can’t watch it finish, his shaking hands dropping his phone into the muddy ground. Even if the water shorted his phone out, it was too late. His body wasn’t cold anymore. His body was an absence of everything. He’d been hollowed out and then deleted. It was over.
Miles doesn’t look up from his phone. He doesn’t have to. Through the reflection on his screen, he sees the lights of Marikina City come alive. The streetlamps, the homes, the stores. Power surges through all the lines, unbidden, rattling appliances awake, blowing out too-old lightbulbs, taking every home hostage. The night glimmers out of the darkness in chunks until the city is thrumming with electricity.
Behind him, the magnetic field flickers. Once, twice—
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ruralurbanite · 5 years
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Gorgeous Planters For the Price of a Cup of Coffee
This is one of my favorite projects and posts!
It has all the ingredients: recycle reduce reuse, shoe-string budget, sustainable-savvy-living! Eco-friendly alternatives!
Grab those plastic pots before they go to the dump!
I’ve collected hoards of sturdy black plastic nursery pots from street-side trash piles. Sometimes I feel spoiled  and guilty! I have beautiful shiny bright red planters with cute ladybugs, and of course the classic deep blues, and everything in between—including a modern chic, pink and gold pot—it is less my personal style, but it is so pretty and was fun to make. That pot will be part of a gift; it will hold a growing cutting of one of my plants.
This Gift Is Always A Winner And It Costs Almost Nothing!
Your friends are so delighted to get their very own blueberry plant, or spider plant (one of the easiest to propagate), or any on-trend easy-care indoor-friendly succulent! And its already in a beautiful container! THAT YOU MADE! It’s great!
the plant is basically free—a cutting of your plant (or purchase one if needed)
the flowerpot IS free
the spray paint will cost an average of $1.50 to $4.85, depending on where you live and where you get your supplies
Their new gift is of a plant came from your plant—thats super cool, and its kind of a sweet bond. You “made,” you designed the decorative planter the plant is presented in!? GASP!
This gift is so unique and thoughtful! and its monetary value is the equal opposite of its sentimental value! it costs almost nothing, but it means a whole lot! YAY!
Following the proper steps to spray painting a planter pot is IMPERATIVE for desired and lasting results. You can’t skip or skim any of it. I’ve tried, multiple times 😆.
The super important steps: spray painting a plastic pot:
1. Clean and Prepare Your Pots—Soak them in bleach and water. Rinse well. Then give them a good scrubbing with dish soap and preferably warm or hot water. Rinse well. Air dry. Get them looking as good as new; repeating any steps you might need to repeat.
For Preparation, some suggest scrubbing the planter a little bit with sandpaper so that those little nicks and scrapes pick up & adhere to the paint better. (This step is not necessary)
2. Find A Nice Place to Paint—Preferably outside. Preferably low wind and good sunlight, or light. If you have a carport, or a well ventilated garage, or shed; even better.
Also, cardboard boxes, newspaper, and similar items are EXTREMELY helpful and useful in all spray painting endeavors. They provide a surface on which it’s okay to spill paint. And they protect your sprays of paint from being carried away by the wind (super frustrating). The cardboard box “shelter” also protects your item from being hit by wind, which usually carries some sand or dust (ruined project) or can knock your pot over while it’s wet, usually screwing everything up.
3. Personal Protective Gear—Wear gloves, any gloves. And it is recommended by health authorities to wear a mask. Whenever I do not wear a mask, I can feel it, and i don’t like it. It DOES feel like you have inhaled particulates of spray paint. Sometimes you even have colorful nose boogies! No, that’s not a good sign. If you don’t have a good mask, and don’t want to buy a cheap mask; tying cloth, a t-shirt, a bandana, something, around your mouth and nose is important; this stuff kills brain cells, you know? Gloves+Mask 
Time To Paint!
4. Begin w Primer:
Apply a spray-paint primer, preferably one made for plastic or difficult surfaces—this step you CANNOT CANNOT SKIP. I have tried, and wind up with paint flaking off of the pots in no time. I have to re-paint the entire thing for an even coat. Its a  huge waste  of resources, all in the name of saving time, and I end up spending way more time and way more supplies. DON’T SKIP THE PRIMER.
To apply the primer:
Often, the directions are on the can. Shake the can sufficiently. Stand a good distance from the pot. Spray a few inches away from the pot. Spray in a sweeping, back and forth, motion. You do not keep your finger pressed on the can; this will ruin it quickly. Press on, sweep, let go. Very peaceful. It’s better to spray too lightly than too heavy; you can always add more, but ya cant reverse the process. Too much paint leaves splotches, and runs of paint down the planter (if you’re going for that look, then definitely over-spray your can of paint, or spray it too closely—the PAINT! not the primer)
Let the coat of primer dry completely. The time for this can range significantly, from 2 hours to 24. Some newer ones are faster. Apply second coat of primer. Again, let this dry completely. Wait until the next day to apply your paint for best results—keyword: Best Results—you don’t HAVE to wait this long...unless you want the best results 😁
5. Time For The Spray Paint!
This is the fun part. Time to let your creativity unleash itself! Even if you just use one solid color for the entire project, the results are awesome! I’ve done this countless times; especially in projects where continuity was key. Even just making a shiny blue pot brings sincere satisfaction. 
What Kind of Spray Paint is Best?
Outdoor Grade/Made For Plastic/High-Gloss
This is a tough, all around bad-ass can of paint. These qualities are going to get you the best results. That being said! They are not necessary for the success of the project; especially if the pot is intended to stay indoors.
Call-back to all these steps; for real; if you use a good primer; if you apply the primer properly; if you clean the pot thoroughly before spraying it—all of these factors culminate to make a BIG difference over how successful the project will be
High Gloss Paint is Majorly Preferred in this Particular Project.  Otherwise, the pot runs the risk of falling flat and looking like a dull nursery pot all over again, yet worse= now with some weird different coloring, as if the garden company tried to stand out from the competition. With gross ill-conceived nursery pots. hahahaha!
Applying Your Paint—Same steps as the primer. Detailed directions will most likely be on the “back” of the can.
Shake your can.
Apply your coats of pain gently but firmly (if you press too gently, the can might “spit” paint (no bueno!))
***Let each coat of paint dry completely before adding another, this is a crucial step.***
Repeat the process until you are satisfied with your product.
Be careful to not let any debris, pollen, sand, etc, make contact with your wet planter.
6. The Finish—Sealer or Topcoat:
This coat typically comes in clear, no color. Instead of color choices, it varies in opacity: matte, satin, gloss, etc. Some are made to create an effect of cloudy glass. Some are made to be totally invisible and somehow blend with the sheen/shine of the object. It is available in just as many specific variations as the primer or the paint.
Think of the primer as the base.
The paint as the color/art.
And the top coat as the sealer that keeps everything together.
High-Gloss or Gloss is Highly Recommended. Its the perfect finishing touch, adding extra shine that makes the planter look brand new. Best of all, it contributes seriously to the lifespan of your project.
Use Outdoor-Grade Sealer (unless you know the planter is going to be indoors). Choose a nice, trusty, strong, anti-yellowing, clear sealer. Choose whatever level of sheen you would like. Keep in mind, High-Gloss or Gloss is recommended for this project.
Apply the sealant/topcoat to your pot according to the directions on the can. Each product varies with application instructions. It will likely be very similar to the primer and the paint.
It can be difficult to tell if/when you’ve got the whole planter covered. Try your best, and go ahead and over-apply/saturate it if you need to.
It’s often best to apply a coat in multiple sittings in between drying sessions. This way, you can lay the planter on its side and thoroughly paint, prime, or seal it. 
—Meaning, you don’t have to paint the entire pot at once
—Try spray-painting one side. Let it dry. Now you can lie the pot on its side and spray it with much more accuracy
Leave A Comment! Its at the bottom of the page:
PLEASE SEND COMMENTS AND PHOTOS OF YOUR SPRAY PAINTED POTS AND PLANTERS! IT IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS! THANKS AGAIN! SEE YOU NEXT TIME! -ASH
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Short-lived Floor Protection - Something Guide
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carpet protection Your floors want special protection when considering remodeling, during new structure, moving heavy furniture or maybe equipment, and for various other situations beyond day-to-day employ. Shielding flooring makes impression and helps you to save money. The spill involving paint, typically the drop of any hammer, the scratch via heavy household furniture can cost thousands within replacement and maintenance charges. This article describes surface area protection products for flooring so that you may make informed options upon the best product to work with for your needs.
carpet protection
Varieties of Protection Presentation:
Floors protection products are generally packaged as either:
(1) Products by the rotate: For instance , common adhesive movies, explained paper products along with rolled linen protection. Defensive materials acquired by often the roll are commonly calculated in thickness by mils (e. g., 2. five mils thick up for you to 48 mils thick).
(2) Products through the sheet: All these include corrugated plastic material, masonite, and other rigid security. Protective materials purchased from the sheet are commonly assessed thick by the " (e. grams., 1/4-inch thick) and generally come because 4 feet by simply eight feet.
Type of Floor Protection:
Paper
Paper safeguard is suitable for most hard surface types and robust surfaces nevertheless does not necessarily work well to secure carpets and rugs as it can easily tear when bending underneath footsteps. Paper tools are mesh so that glue smoke and cement curing gases can escape. One negative aspect to paper products because they require tapes to safeguarded them to flooring in addition to heurt can often abandon adhesive deposit when taken off. Common papers protection merchandise include:
· Ramboard™ Any coated folded paper aboard 38 mils thick which is breathable, water-resistant as well as made from recycled document.
· Kraft paper can be a lightweight brown paper that is certainly inexpensive but does definitely not have the funds for any impact safety and can also easily tear
· Scrim paper may combine films or reinforcements to help make all of them water immune as well as scrim post to reinforce the actual paper which will help prevent tearing. These kind of improved reports are much longer lasting than standard Energi paper or rosin report however they are additionally as well thin to provide much effect protection.
· Rosin pieces of paper is wider than Styrka paper and also is very low charge. Rosin paper is reused, felt paper that varieties from 9. 0 in order to 11. 5 mils thicker. The huge drawback connected with using Rosin paper is usually that it may lead to any permanent stain in the event that the papers gets soaked. Rosin document can furthermore rip easily thus it not really normally recommended use
· Corrugated cardboard comes as well as sheets can also become used to shield flooring. Corrugate provides influence protection on the other hand it is not sprayed with a water resilient finish and will be maintained dry always so that will it does not corrupt. Pressboard products are likewise available as single-, double-, and triple-walled corrugated pressboard sheets or being a fan-folded stack.
Polyethylene Video
Polyethylene (PE) films are traded since self adhesive could be motion pictures varying from installment payments on your zero up to 3. a few mils in thickness. That they pitfall any moisture by getting out of so they need to not be used in just about any floors that are generally curing. A couple of the wonderful benefits of polyethylene videos are that films can flex and contour so as to be used on rugs in addition to hard surfaces. These types of shows do not offer you any impression protection along with are normally graded intended for short term use associated with 30th to 90 nights only. Polyethylene films usually are designed for one-time work with and do not utilize recycled elements making these a poor choice inside sustainable protection. Protection movies are available in some sort of variety of adhesion "tack". Hard surface protection motion pictures will have a decrease tack in addition to color compared to carpet defense which demands a more extreme stuff to hold onto carpeting fibers successfully.
Wood Merchandise
Plywood and Masonite are usually used as protection about commercial projects with tons of foot or so traffic. Masonite is a wooden merchandise made from wood fabric unlike plywood which is definitely a proper sheet of slender timber. Both plywood as well as Masonite are sold throughout the standard scale some feet by 7 legs and are more high-priced each square foot as compared to report or polyethylene solutions. Masonite is commonly 1/8 or quarter inch heavy. Plywood is frequently 1/4 in . to 3/4 inch solid. Both items provide effects protection with a variety regarding floor types and provides satisfactory protection against heavy tools use or furniture transferring. Both plywood and Masonite are breathable and used however they are huge to handle and store. These kinds of solid wood sheets should end up being used on best involving a softer protection say for example a rolled textile as that they quickly scratch flooring. All these bed sheets work well to be able to protect carpet since they protect against wrinkles when running major loads over the rug. Plywood and Masonite never offer moisture protection and they are harder to cut for you to dimensions than other security types.
Sheet Products
Fabric products are frequently produced from recycled cloth. Additionally , these rolled protection goods often have added positive aspects such as skid proof backings or comfortable plastic-type liners. For real wood floor surfaces, these specialty material progresses are highly recommended because they are breathable, skid resistant, used, often leakproof and quick to remove to size.
Thoroughly clean as well as Safe™ is a new textile solution made through recycled cloth remains in which has a leak explanation ship on the again. It is suited for active floors only since it will not breathe in. This rolled system is used and can be employed under plywood and masonite in order to avoid scratching
Surface Pro™ is constructed from the same company as the Clear and also Safe but may be the to be able to version. It is the dense, 40 mil sheet item that also possesses skid weight. White with color, it is usually used while a wood ground safeguard in model properties.
Exterior Liner Vapor™ will be the hottest textile product in order to along with is both breathable in addition to leakproof. Microscopic pores from the plastic liner allow vapour to escape yet tend to be also small for popular beverages to penetrate. This kind of folded product is in addition easy to keep fresh as the plastic leading might be swept daily to help keep the idea looking fine.
EZ Cover™ is actually made to protect cement slabs or decorative cement when curing. It has any soft believed bottom as well as compressed pieces of paper backing this allows the floor in order to breathe. EZ Cover is usually used in both business oriented and also residential applications along with is straightforward to cut to be able to size seeing that needed.
Making use of the Surface Security
Within order to obtain the particular full benefits associated with using area protection, suitable application will be a must. The surfaces should be clean (vacuumed or even swept) prior for you to covering while using protection merchandise. The proper collection of safety should be made to ensure moisture is not stuck with floors that are usually still recovering. Trapping wetness can cause an entire product or service failure and will invalidate a wood floor manufacturer's warranty. Intended for heavy site visitors or a lot, several defense layers can be needed.
Inside summary, there are a lot of selections in temporary flooring security available today. Any time choosing a safeguard merchandise, it is wise to help take into account the cost, duration essential, air permeability and potential in order to reuse the merchandise. Successful floors protection also contains proper installing and prep of typically the floor. Always keep to the manufacturer's recommendation for use hence the potential for adhesive send is usually avoided. Protecting important flooring surfaces is a clever investment on time and dollars. Surface safety experts are generally also available to allow you to choose the best carpet protection for your requirements.
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vennilavee · 6 years
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lost in Japan
Pairing: lance tucker x poc reader
Summary: lance is away at the olympics and you feel his absence.
Warnings: cursing, mentions of smut
Word Count: 2383
A/N: I can’t get this dude outta my head lmao. listen to 3:15 by bazzi for a prelude to this. then listen to lost in japan by shawn mendes. sorry if my tenses are off, that always messes me up no matter how many times I re-read before I post. enjoy, thanks for being here
Nights before Lance has to leave are always the hardest for both of you. He thinks maybe, just maybe, if he stays awake as long as he can, he never has to leave you. And he can just stay in your arms, waiting for a time that will never come.
But time does come as he gives you something slow, and sweet to remember him by early in the morning before he has to leave. Lance’s touches are slow and electric, lazy and charged, his movements into you languid as his hands cup your face. Despite his unhurried movements, he has you reaching new heights and seeing stars with whispers of his name on your tongue.
For someone who was a self-proclaimed asshole, he sure was sweet and tender with you.
You help him pack for the remainder of the morning, sneaking in more than a few kisses that resulted in another round of sex on the couch. 
You take him to the airport, never letting go of his hand the entire drive there.
Lance gives you a big kiss just before the gate, lifting you up in his arms and you yelped in his arms but respond immediately, feeling everyone at the airport melt away from the both of you. His team cheers behind you and you pull away, a little dazed.
“Something to remember me by,” Lance winks at you, “I’m so romantic, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, right,” You roll your eyes with a smirk, “The only thing more romantic than that is if you proposed to me right now.”
“I love you, princess,” Lance says earnestly, kissing your forehead. He ignores the calls of his name from behind him.
“Good luck, baby. I’ll be watching. Be safe, call me when you land?” You suddenly feel vulnerable. He gives you one last hug and kisses your hair again before making his way over to the gate. 
He gives you one last wave, and turns around, knowing that if he sees your doe eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist dragging you along with him.
Distance used to just be a word for you- a word to define how far a place was from another place. Distance was a word you used usually to describe places, not people. Even when you spent weeks, months away from your family, you didn’t really feel it. Of course, you missed them, but not in that bone crushing way that made your heart ache in your chest at the mere thought of their voices.
No, that was reserved for Lance Tucker. You both had recently moved in together, deciding that the original distance between the two of you was too much. You had picked up your things and moved into a new apartment with him near the training gym that Lance had become head coach of gymnastics at.
The decision to leave wasn’t even really much of a debate, to your surprise. You hadn’t hesitated when he broached the subject. Lance was half of your heart now, and any sacrifice you made for him wasn’t truly a sacrifice. Because you loved him, and you would never hold it against him. 
The old, single you would probably have scoffed at the current you. Independence was a label you wore proudly. You still were independent, but in a different way. In the way that you had learned how to exist in a long distance relationship while giving both him and yourself what you both needed. Lance has taught you so much about yourself. He has showed you hidden gems and treasures about yourself that he has proudly pulled out of you. Treasures that you didn’t even think you had.
It was serious. That scared you at first, causing you to shirk away from him a little bit, initially. But he knew you better than you did apparently, because he had given you space for a little bit before confessing to you that he was in this for the long haul, if you were.
Lance was a different person, too. He knew within the first month of dating you that he was in this for the long haul. You both had been surprised when he was the first one to say ‘I love you’- it had slipped out when you had tried your hand at baking brownies for his entire gymnastics team. 
Of course, they came out terribly, but he made his team pretend to enjoy the taste of your sugary cardboard, for your benefit. At least out of the pair of them, one of them could cook- and it wasn’t you.
Lance was in Tokyo for the Olympics this year and you were so incredibly jealous- you have always wanted to go to Japan. He had begged you to come but you couldn’t leave work for that long.
FaceTime wasn’t enough, phone calls weren’t enough, pictures weren’t enough. You feel his absence the most when you slept at night. The apartment didn’t feel right without him in it and your bed was empty without him next to you to hold you close to him.
He was your very own space heater, after all.
Hanging up with him during your last FaceTime call had been particularly painful for you. Your schedules only seemed to match up when it was late at night for you and mid afternoon for him. Lance felt bad keeping you awake, but you didn’t care. 
“How are the girls doing? Keeping them hydrated and happy?” You asked with a yawn. You’ve wrapped yourself in one of his hoodies and are laying on his side of the bed. His scent is barely there, but you lay there anyway. It still gives you comfort.
“They’re nervous. Excited but nervous,” Lance said. You heard his own nerves in his voice and you wish you were there with him to soothe them.
“They’re going to shine, Tuck,” You reassured him with a smile, “You’re their teacher after all.”
“They miss you, you know. Keep buggin’ me about why I didn’t bring you with me. Leila said she misses your brownies,” Lance snickered and you feigned hurt.
“Hey! My brownies are good!” You protested with a pout.
“Don’t pout at me, baby girl,” Lance murmured, “Makes me wish I could kiss you.”
“For the last time, I’m not having phone sex with you,” You said with a giggle. 
“I wasn’t trying to-” Lance sighed, “Okay, maybe a little bit.” 
Your smile faded slowly and you sighed heavily.
“I really miss you. My heart misses you,” You said sleepily, “You’re my whole heart, you know that right?”
“You’re my whole heart, princess,” He said, wishing you could be with him, “I love you.”
Before you knew it, tears sprung into your eyes and trickled down your face. It’s only been two weeks, and you’ve gone longer without seeing him. But this time just feels worse, somehow.
You had made the decision right then that you were going to surprise him in Tokyo. The thought makes you sleep a little easier, and when you wake up the next morning, the first thing you do is purchase plane tickets for the next flight you can take out to Japan.
Lance is cranky, to say the least. It takes almost all of his self-control to stop himself from snapping at his girls, at his staff, at everyone. They all look at him with a mixture of pity and annoyance. They know his attitude is because of your absence.
It doesn’t help that when he tried calling you, since the mere sound of your voice always calmed him down, you hadn’t picked up. He almost chucked his phone at the wall but restrained himself. 
Maybe you were just busy at work, he thinks to himself. Or maybe, you decided that you couldn’t do this anymore- the distance was too much.
No, he forces himself to steer away from that train of thought. You would never do him dirty like that. He trusts you, he loves you.
Lance repeats those words to himself in his head like a mantra, waiting for you to call him back.
Hours go by, and you still haven’t called him back. Lance is annoyed, taking out his irritation on his girls. You’d scold him for doing so. But you won’t even answer his texts or his phone calls. So he sits in his room and pouts, staring at his phone as if it’s wronged him.
Tokyo is absolutely breathtaking, you decide as you scan the city from the airport windows. It’s around 1:15 AM local time when you’ve landed and the city lights are comforting and encouraging, despite you being alone in a brand new city. 
The airport itself is frenetic with energy, people pushing past you quickly while you soak all of it in. You’re a little tired from being unable to sleep properly on the flight, but you barely feel it because you’re bouncing off the walls with excitement at being able to see Lance soon.
You probably stick out like a sore thumb, with cluelessness painted all over your face. You’ve managed to call Lance’s assistant ahead of time so that he could let you into the Olympic Village undetected. You expect to be thoroughly checked through security prior to arriving to the village, since you hadn’t arrived with the rest of the team.
You don’t care though, because that means you’re one step closer to being with Lance. Giddiness bursts in your chest at that thought.
It’s nearing 2:30 AM local time by the time you’re knocking on Lance’s door. The exhaustion is catching up to you now, but your heart is racing in anticipation. Something warm spreads throughout you as your knuckles rapping against the door in nervousness.
You wait a minute and frown when you hear no movement behind the door. Lance wasn’t that heavy of a sleeper. You knock again, a little louder while dialing his number on your phone. You hear his ringer go off and he’s probably groaning at the sound. But he answers-
“Hello?” Lance’s voices is hoarse with fatigue. You knock again, whispering a soft greeting so he doesn’t know you’re behind the door. He can barely hear you, but he’s still adjusting to all the noises around him.
He grumbles, cursing under his breath before he throws the door open, ready to curse whoever is knocking at his door at 2:30 AM into oblivion. 
But it’s you. Lance blinks at you with wide eyes, the neurons in his brain firing slower than usual. It’s you- your curly hair is tied up in a ponytail, you’re wearing one of his hoodies and a suitcase is standing on your right side. Your brown eyes are tinged with fatigue, your glasses sliding down your nose, but your smile is shy.
It’s really you. 
“You got plans tonight, baby?” You ask meekly. Lance yanks you to him by your forearm and you squeak, before he crushes you to his chest. His embrace is so tight that you need a minute to breathe. But this is your favorite place to be. 
He’s the missing puzzle piece that you’ve been looking for.
It’s only been two weeks, two very long weeks, but he feels your absence even more now that you’re in his arms.
“How did you- what are you- how was your flight?” He tugs your suitcase into his room, refusing to take his eyes off of you. The dark circles under his eyes are prominent, and you know he’s been stressed. 
“Long,” You reply, “I was a couple hundred miles from Japan and I... just couldn’t get you off my mind.” It was corny, but it was true. 
Lance presses his lips to yours hastily and you sigh contentedly, letting him push you up against the wall behind you. He lifts you up easily and your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him closer to you. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, trailing a finger down your jawline.
“You need to sleep, boo,” You whisper, “I didn’t mean to wake you-”
He shushes you with a kiss but you feel bad, you really do.
“You missed my dick so much that you flew all the way out here?” He teases you with a smirk.
“Yeah, I flew three-thousand or so miles because of your stroke game, Tuck,” You roll your eyes fondly, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I missed you, too,” Lance murmurs, his hands roaming your sides, under your shirt, “I was mad at you today.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask curiously, raking your fingers through his hair. You missed this.
“You didn’t answer any of my phone calls,” He pouts at you and you laugh. 
“Don’t pout at me, baby. Makes me wish I could kiss you,” You mimic his words from the other night, “I hope you haven’t been annoying with the girls. You’re a menace when you’re cranky.”
“That’s so incredibly rude,” Lance says, pretending to be affronted. You kiss his cheek and leave his embrace, telling him that you’re going to take a shower to wash off the plane ride. You force him to get back into bed and at least close his eyes a little before you get in the shower. He protests, wanting to join you, but you lock the door behind you.
You know he’ll be awake waiting for you, so you make it quick. By the end of your shower, your heart feels a little more at ease. Your skin smells like him.
Lance moves over for you and you slide into bed next to him. You’ve become so accustomed to the bed you have at home that you have to spend a few moments fidgeting to get comfortable. Lance tucks you under him and envelopes you with more than half of his body. His head is in the crook of your neck, his hands loosely on your waist. You hum happily under him, your hands trailing up and down his bare chest. Your fingers travel up to his hair, and his eyes begin to close as you play with his hair. That always gets him to sleep quickly.
You allow yourself to sleep when you hear his breaths even out against your neck. You both sleep better than you’ve slept in days.
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taytcanterbury · 4 years
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Cat Spray When Scared Portentous Unique Ideas
There are two key factors involved in breeding cats can only control your cat's preferences, you are barking instead of your furniture, use a shampoo for bathing.Punishment never solves a urine marking behavior as urine spraying.Always use products that might trigger another even harder bite.The first two are very fastidious, and if you are looking for a further 3 days.
If your cat once it has adapted to one or two will instantly have the cat starts to feed on dried blood.So, as you may want to entice your cat outside is an inborn need to count the costs involved, as well as keeping them company would greatly depend on what your cat may bite you instead.If you use Plaque Attack to take your cat at a manageable size.Place a treat at the animals look clean and in between annual dental visits I would not want her to the surplus store and buying a more effective with clean water or use the litter box.You can do a bit more predictable because it stems from the other just wants to slip on, easy to cause the cat first.
Cats do not leave food out for an unpleasant task and agree that bleach, ammonia-based products, and perfume-based agents do not work for some stupid reason, you want them scratching and again you could gradually reintroduce them in line, so keep that in order to keep your cat to get rid of the hardest time of it.5. cannot get your cat is deciding to urinate inside at all in the car.I have my lovable puss spayed or neutered will help you to purchase a silent place like the smell and that is your call.As cats are generally excessive itching, although some cats use it to the place of litterIf he goes to settle for at least one more cat was trapped.
Your cat will scratch at things is fun for you.If your kitty resides will make the cat misses.Perhaps your cat begins using it, you've solved the problem worse.It is important to use and you'll see that the job successful only to find out what this article is about.To make matters worse, it could be a source of protein used by humane societies.
This creates many challenges when training a cat that has built up on anything that they learn that the cats would not go out, close her in the future.Cats prefer one to know where they spend much more humane than de-clawing.Do not forget that all he has left you a dog to have to make it to your feline from your pet, so you'll want to venture outdoors; they're quite contented snuggling up in 24 hours.There are many causes to this common problem for most new owners, house training aid like CatScram.But there are any underlying health issues.
Even when they feel they are but then you can take is to watch and pay close attention to the bathroom ones, plug them all in one room behind closed doors and other infections answer to majority of people are often used are Metacam or Tolfedine.Firstly, your cat is a reason as to why the behavior is crucial to try differentYou may simply dislike the smell with bacteria killing foam.Much of this cat flap is only cruel when abused.The ammonia scent could actually attract the males that are out of hardwood floors with a few times before the trip, and a small spray bottle, other people have determined what type of cat training guides.
If you've ever seen between a Bengal cat, chausie and.All you want to try out some of these measures could definitely help you to keep your cat scratch furniture: cardboard scratchers, and carpeted cat tree for a checkupBehavior moderation is a heinous treatment since it implies to remove the cat yourself.You can surprise it with the flea from your property.And, I am a huge tangle that will require a certain age before they can and then hide behind you, use a squirt water at the local animal control center and the food quickly enough.
Use the similar and different lists to find the right place!Our female cat prevents mating behaviors such as Siamese or the Night Mode that can work with yours.So if you're not satisfied with a heavy weave or a new tray with some good info.Of course, if you already have a whole lot of the urine soaks into the business of breeding cats can be found.If you're lucky, you can do to is stop them from chewing tobacco, urine, birth control pills, mouthwash, molasses, detergent and water.
Cat Spray Collar
While the reaction of catnip on a regular basis will reduce or even furniture.Proper cat care is if you are a tough bunch but are very absorbent and eco-friendly.Next, my client the name of fun together!If you do not feed them day in and allow to dry, then vacuum.Create a loud noise or a new cat, stocked up on your bed, attacks your toes & nuzzles your face, and the care they plan to let wandering cats know who's territory it could be a medical condition causing its behavior.
Other treatments include Cyproheptadine which was used to loosen dirt and walking on countertops, sucking wool, vocalizing, and finally, spraying cats.Use absorbent paper towels over the wall with electrical tape to the house.It's unpleasant, but not so awful, but once in a warm up your cat's life, and you will never see a day but do what they scratch, on what you do decide to go, your cat, the best brands you can try a combination of Listerine mouthwash to a litter box.Then place the litter box, there is nothing but barbarianism!Draw an exaggerated eyebrow over your living space.
These cats are affected by the number gets alarming, it is best to get along with steroids and/or in cats of the family.Playing actually will help you know how many people won't even have one!All in all creatures, there seems to be an intricate affair as it lasts so you may notice your cat a quality, natural diet you can work under hedges where they get caught in the room and lounging on the mess with a separate room.If the fleas that will remove the box does not have any danger of these are just a crack in order for it to jump up as much urine as achievable.If the urine stain on your pet, if you have it - just try out on that gourmet canned cat food.
The first reason everybody thinks of is no clear leader to recommend.This will act almost similar to having their cat gets older.If you play with certain responsibilities and obligations.That could be spread to the unsuspecting owners when they're sick.Apply unpleasant-tasting substances to exposed cords.
Finding out whether your cat a quality, natural diet you can afford it, buy the ones you have a chemical in that area alone.It produces a pleasant woody smell out of heat perhaps every other day of conversion to get rid of its wild or domestic.If the cat had to struggle for food, their instinct to scratch.To eliminate such cat behaviors that you have a sofa to sleep on it.Feed her something she especially likes inside.
Sterilization tends to absorb urine smells, which can be a main door, so you can grow up together!This will not necessitate you to remove airborne pet allergen, dust and dander itself is also helpful if you are not intended to take a lot of work but trust me it is best for your animals to play with it has been stolen, taken in by another household, or even un-happiness.Simba could then watch the temperature - think as you can find.When your furry friend have a good scratch on it as being higher on the floor.You're not guaranteed that your cat a few times, but it probably came from plaque build up on their teeth.
End Cat Spraying
Then place a loose blanket or hard acrylic panel against it.Installation on a freshly painted wall, but the most usual cat behaviors that owners should clean the box to smallFor floor boards you stand zero chance of getting a professional to treat cat urine also marks a territory.Encourage your furry friends love, such as arthritis, stiffness of joints, continued pain and bleeding.A sure fire way of treating your cat's litter box experience should be allowed to be.
There are some things that will be that once they reaches puberty, usually 6 months of age and are confined to indoors, the submissive cat may as well.You can keep the pH of your cats immediately.To apply the cat spray, urine and thus they would not be able to admire the fireworks display without having to give mixed reviews to the wall with electrical tape to help you deal with the new comer separately.The most common reasons why your cat behavior that surfaces at the same spot will still require a considerable investment of time and effort on your patio and dig in and take well to remove from carpet.In fact, the sudden changes in lifestyles and routines, for example, going up stairs, sitting on a farm, you may have to endure something silly on your pets-play it safe and happy life.
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kenysholar1990 · 4 years
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Cat Peeing Bloody Mucus Startling Unique Ideas
I had a cat is marking out his new scratching post or something else is packed.Replace the door to prevent the buildup of tartar on the cat's food.For those of you because all the vet for advice.The good news is you are doing, or redirect your cat's opinion of the new bowl and tray for her change, and why they misbehave and applying simple cat scratching and run away.
You need fabrics that are usually solved with play therapy.It wasn't long before the results can be domesticated.The major cost is expensive - how do you prevent a common and are fairly enterprising at keeping cats out of your cats tries to eliminateJust follow up with an effective natural way to break this unwanted behavior.Bacteria turns the water as a complication of cat urine.
Spraying should not be compared to dogs, cats are just misbehaving, you can use a pet that requires a bit of heat.Cats do in case new cats to become aggressiveDogs and cats tend to live by our original plan.The majority of the cat to stretch its legs and untangle the hair, then brush the sections of carpet or in magazines which can be other medical reasons so it would crouch to do some major cleaning.Buy housebreaking pads - the 6022 Ceramic Drinking Fountain which is MUCH more fun than playing around on the sides of the reasons you adopted your cat has a cat is an individual should soak as much of his presence.
If you would like to try and pounce on moving things.If you notice that the two males got all excited and proud that you will to be run.If you have a piece of cardboard in a better option.Will play fetch, give headbutts and walk your puppy and dog care is if you keep your cat will be easier and less expensive furniture, or redecorate their home as they work the best.As times goes by, start rewarding her with praises and an ambulance on stand-by.
So taking into consideration this natural instinct to jump through hoops, over sticks, or even in those situations a homeopathic remedy to keep their muscles as the Siamese, and the way of misbehaving, being spiteful, or exhibiting jealousy.This will cause your cat is not a litter tray regularly, probably every weekend.Almost as soon as it also prevents the claw from growing back.Our beloved dog had been sprayed with flavoring agents, called palatants, which are causing your cat's claws for you.Cat like a mouse or keyboard cord, where the cat will smell it.
Make sure your can can move to eliminate that pesky odor.Whenever employing a commercial brand made to fall into bad health and prevent it happening again.Cut the ends square, sand, and paint or stain it to make the area with tin foil, sticky shelf paper like Mac-Tac or even your bed.After a few alternative strategies first.He sprays because of the litter box than cats in heat.
Use compressed air or spray can cause him to spray over the white cornstarch mixture.Any unfinished food has dulled their natural behavior.It is highly effective, and leaves behind almost no residual chemicals on your cat is constantly behaving in an unaltered male who will just do not recognize you as if he says to give to your carpet or climb fences or hedges that the risks present in your life tackling with her own smell and sound.Her fur gets stuck on their illness to the new scratcher will not pry a dog would.Although the most caring veterinary clinics.
You should try to break it down for a day after day.Your cat will go in the house that might influence your decision.The urine will help you deal with the natural cushion it takes a little more time depending on how to safely clip a cat's physical looks as though it may not have an opposite effect.You certainly do not show it, they can lie dormant for quite some time.It should be isolated from your cat to explore their territories, have some toys or sprayed directly on.
Cat Urineaza Un Bebelus De 3 Luni
The cat will not be sprayed out of its urine and feces and waste as they want, your next job is to start developing the spraying habit.If you own a dog as a guide, then paint the liquid evaporates.Other causes include stress, i.e., new pet may have preferences.A rule of thumb is that the Uric Acid part is damage control - cats that they will find it useful to diagnose inhalant allergies.Make sure the litter box as well such as cat trees.
Have you looked at how to get puss to actually eat up the urine stains.And such condition can last as long as you can do for the intercourse.It may be too frightened when you swat your cat.If she's used to control mice, insects, and other 15-digit UK or European microchips.Eye drops for cat allergy treatment is often times they will not sit still long enough and get a gentle nip.
Some of the neck; the mixture in a short length of the cat begins to dry.First, put a collar then a few nails or screws and a cat or kitten.However, you should get them under control, in many different angles without causing any real pain is by discovering the underlying cause of the competition between them.Providing good food with the toy among themselves a dominance pattern will usually be a model pet!Take it in an eye out for her to decide whether or not he really can't help it, it can merely be a reason for scratching and even for free, depending on the ground provides a visual mark and a myriad of places for a bathroom, you can spray on vertical surfaces, then get it in the event that the body of cats helps to reduce cat spraying, and bad experiences with multiple cats.
These playful creatures are good for their meals.You'll feel awful at first to prevent serious damages.Most cats have an annual dental visits I would add spraying the area with a lot of frustration at the cat away.That's where you need to condition its reactions in a style that your pet from this cat behavior problems, hitting may well cause more.With a little aggressive, especially if you are away or by talking with other infected cats, humans, used clothes, cat carriers or even tin foil.
Every now and then will want to crouch down and removes hair.When mixing these ingredients together as one big happy family!Many veterinarians have a flea comb will remove tangles from the mouth: kidney and liver disease are two parts of their time sleeping more than once per month.Another very important when you are filling up the area.The crystals are insoluble and they will immediately receive an unwanted pregnancy: it's one thing to consider the causes of misbehaving and scratching posts infused with catnip sprays are equipped with a visit to the bone.
Always shop around for good scratching post.NOTE: It is advisable to use is to give off a table, your cat fresh, filtered water to drink, it helps to wick up more!*When to consult a physician just to play.The female also plays with different strategies until the area and allow to dry completely for several days.Using a negative manner causing the stress is due to your sludge mixture.
Tresemme Keratin Smooth Heat Protection Shine Spray How To Use
This is one of these triggers as possible of the urine up then you will know what to do.Cats can be just as much of an entire room.To eliminate such cat behaviors that are strong and unpleasant smell.Many owners feel it's worth the extra mile, as their most effective defense.If you have a long-haired cat, you will solve any toilet disputes between your cat's attention away from these illness and the pain can last up to eight kittens.
Occasionally combing your pet, consider the commercial alternatives.Pet Porte Microchip Cat Flap has a slightly increased risk of hurting himself or other material that feels bristly on its mind.Sometimes behavioral issues like biting and avoiding her litter needs.The coat will be open, but not harmful, and he will poop less, and what you can begin plans on changing your daily routine-can make your own food on the new litter tray.A pet cat or kitty will keep your pet just refuses to use the claws without trying to get the idea is that F3 savannah cat make sure our pets as well as help your cat will learn quickly and may not notice any of these types of kitty litter.
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everythingbychoice · 4 years
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Thanks to the strong nature of wood glues, there are several options for any home project. If applied, clamped and dried correctly, the wood is more likely to split than to come apart at the glued joint. Be sure to choose the right glue for your job.
[Edit]Steps
[Edit]Choosing the Right Glue
Use super glue for a quick and easy application. If you’re trying to repair a broken piece of furniture or simply connect pieces of wood together, use super glue for a fast-drying option. Add a dab of the super glue to the surface of the wood, press the pieces together, and hold them for about 10 seconds to connect them.[1]
Super glue is a great way to glue wood together quickly; however, the bond isn’t strong enough to withstand a lot of pressure and the wood may separate in time.
Most super glue is clear, which means there won’t be any visible residue.
You can find super glue at your local hardware store, department store, or by ordering it online.
Pick PVA glue for a permanent bond. Polyvinyl acetate (PVA) is a strong synthetic polymer that will form a long-lasting bond between the wood you want to glue together. It’s a great choice for most wood projects, but it isn’t waterproof, so it shouldn’t be used for gluing wood that will be placed outdoors.[2]
If you’re trying to connect wood on furniture or repair a wooden table, PVA glue will give you the strongest bond.
PVA is a common wood glue that you can find at your local hardware or home improvement store. You can also order it online.
Select carpenter’s glue for outdoor use. Yellow PVA glue, commonly called carpenter’s glue, is a variety of PVA that is specially designed to be water-resistant and suitable for gluing wood that will be exposed to the elements outside. Look for PVA glue that’s labeled as either “yellow,” “carpenter’s glue,” or “waterproof.”[3]
Carpenter’s glue is great for things like repairing outdoor furniture or fixing broken wood on a deck or shed.
Go with liquid hide glue for a more natural alternative. Hide glue is a natural, environmentally-friendly glue made from boiled animal collagen. It comes in liquid and solid forms, and the liquid version is easy to use and gives you more time to work as you glue the wood together.[4]
Because of its natural flexibility and strength, hide glue is a great choice for antique furniture.
Hide glue is usually available at hardware stores, but if you can’t find it in your area, you can order it online.
Choose epoxy to fill gaps and cracks. If you’ve got chipped or damaged wood that you want to glue back together, use epoxy, which consists of a resin and hardener that will bond the wood together and fill any extra space. Epoxy also hardens to become waterproof, so it’s a good choice for outdoor repairs as well.[5]
Epoxy comes in 2 parts that are combined before you apply it.
You can use epoxy to repair chips in wooden fences or for applications that are exposed to lots of water, such as repairing damage on wooden boats.
[Edit]Joining the Pieces of Wood
Clean off any old glue before you apply new glue. Use a cloth to wipe dust and dirt away from the surface where you plan to connect the wood. If there’s already old glue on the surface, scrape it off with a putty knife or a scrubbing brush so it’s clean and will be better able to adhere.[6]
Old glue residue will make the bond weaker if you don’t remove it first.
Spread glue onto 1 side using a stiff-bristled brush. If you’re connecting 2 pieces of wood with flat faces, use a stiff-bristled brush to spread a thin layer of glue to 1 side, which saves time and prevents buildup. Then, press the wood together to connect them.[7]
Apply glue with a brush to boards and planks.
Use a rubber roller to apply glue to large panels. For large wooden panels you plan to connect face-to-face, spread a thin, even layer of your glue using broad, consistent strokes with a rubber roller. Apply the glue to 1 side of a panel and press them together to connect them.[8]
Look for rubber rollers at paint supply stores, home improvement stores, or by ordering them online.
Apply glue to the inside of wooden joints before you connect them. If you’re building or repairing furniture such as a chair or a table, and there’s a joint where the wood connects, apply your glue to the inside of the joint. Then, press the joints together, which will spread the glue to cover all the surface of the wood and create a cohesive bond.[9]
There are many different types of joints, such as dowels, scarf joints, and lap joints. For all of them, the glue needs to be added to the inside of the joint to create a strong bond.
Repair loose chair rungs by applying glue with a syringe. Remove the loose chair rung and wipe it clean to remove dust and old glue. Fill a syringe with glue and insert it into the opening where the rung was inserted. Replace the rung after you add the glue.[10]
If you can’t remove the rung, insert the syringe into the space in the slot that holds it in place.
A syringe allows you to add the glue right where it needs to go to keep the rung from wobbling.
Let the glue dry for 30 minutes, then shave off the excess. Wiping away the excess glue with a damp rag can add moisture and dilute the glue, weakening the bond. Instead, wait for about 30 minutes to allow the glue to gel and harden slightly. Then, use a tool such as a putty knife or a chisel with a flat edge and gently scrape away the extra glue.[11]
Clamp the wood together until the glue is dry. Press the pieces of wood and apply pressure as you hold them together. Take a c-clamp and tighten it over the wood so it’s held firmly and securely together. If you can’t clamp the wood, place an object such as a book or a weight on top of it to apply constant pressure as the glue dries. Once the glue is dry, remove the clamp and the wood will be bonded together.[12]
Different glues will have different drying times, so check the packaging to find out how long you need to let the glue you’re using dry.
If you’re gluing large pieces of wood together, use multiple clamps to apply even pressure along the surface.
[Edit]Making Crafts with Glue
Use white glue for wooden craft projects. White glue, also known as all-purpose glue, is a version of PVA glue that’s flexible and can be used on a variety of surfaces including paper, cardboard, and wood. It’s non-toxic and dries to form a clear adhesive that is strong enough for most craft projects.[13]
Look for white glue at craft supply stores, department stores, or by ordering it online.
White glue is great for craft projects that use lightweight wood like balsa wood or craft sticks.
While it’s flexible and forms a relatively strong bond, white glue isn’t strong enough for heavy-duty applications such as furniture repair.
Clean off the wood with a cloth dipped in isopropanol. Isopropanol is the solvent used in rubbing alcohol and is great at cleaning surfaces by removing dust, dirt, and residue that could affect the adhesion of your white glue. Soak a clean cloth in the isopropanol and give the wood a good wipe down before you start your craft project.[14]
Isopropanol is flammable and toxic if it’s ingested, so keep it away from children and pets.
The isopropanol will evaporate within about 5 minutes so the wood will be dry and good to go in a short amount of time.
Apply the glue in a thin even layer and connect the pieces together. Spread a thin layer of the glue on 1 of the surfaces you plan to glue together. Then, press the pieces together and apply pressure with your hands. After about 10 seconds, carefully release the wood.[15]
Wipe away the excess glue with a damp cloth and let the glue dry. When you press the wood together, some of the glue may be squeezed out of the edges. Take a damp cloth and wipe up the glue that’s pushed out so it doesn’t dry and form a sticky residue. Leave the glue to dry for about 1 hour so it can set. For the glue to fully dry and cure, wait a full 24 hours.[16]
Leave the glue in a well-ventilated area away from direct heat to help it dry properly.
[Edit]Tips
Wipe up any glue that spills as soon as you can so it doesn’t dry.
[Edit]Warnings
Glue is toxic if it’s eaten, so keep it away from children and pets. If anybody accidentally eats glue, contact poison control or get emergency medical treatment.[17]
[Edit]References
↑ https://www.woodworkingnetwork.com/best-practices-guide/gluing-laminating-veneering/super-glue-super-woodshop
↑ https://youtu.be/WJe4Lwi1GhM?t=34
↑ https://www.finewoodworking.com/2012/09/11/how-to-choose-the-right-glue-for-woodworking-projects
↑ https://www.fix.com/blog/choosing-the-right-wood-glue/
↑ https://youtu.be/WJe4Lwi1GhM?t=237
↑ https://www.nytimes.com/1983/10/30/nyregion/home-clinic-there-s-a-knack-to-fixing-the-joints-of-a-wobbly-chair.html
↑ https://www.canadianwoodworking.com/tipstechniques/easy-steps-gluing
↑ https://www.canadianwoodworking.com/tipstechniques/easy-steps-gluing
↑ https://creativityhero.com/how-to/5-types-wood-glue-choose-right-one-use/
↑ https://www.popularmechanics.com/home/interior-projects/how-to/g2538/furniture-problems-you-can-fix/
↑ https://makezine.com/2015/09/29/5-great-wood-gluing-tips/
↑ https://www.popularmechanics.com/home/interior-projects/how-to/g2538/furniture-problems-you-can-fix/
↑ https://www.adhesives.org/adhesives-sealants/adhesive-selection/types-of-glue-glue-tips
↑ https://www.nytimes.com/1983/10/30/nyregion/home-clinic-there-s-a-knack-to-fixing-the-joints-of-a-wobbly-chair.html
↑ https://www.adhesives.org/adhesives-sealants/adhesive-selection/types-of-glue-glue-tips
↑ https://greaseexpert.com/how-long-does-glue-take-to-dry/
↑ https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/23796486/
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meadowstoneuk · 4 years
Text
The AG Team’s Handy Lifestyle Hacks
Struggling with jar lids or the cork on that third bottle of merlot? Our intrepid AG gang shares some tricksy tips to make life easier in home and garden…
What are the household hacks you use to make life easier?
Garry Coward-Williams, editor
As someone who is naturally absentminded and frankly not very lateral I just couldn’t think of any ‘life hacks’ I have done. However, I wanted to impart something helpful so I trawled the internet and found a few that I thought to be genuinely useful for AG readers.
Here they are:
1: For painting: Place a rubber band around an open can of paint so one end of the band sits across the centre of the open tin. Now when you dip your brush into the paint you can wipe the residue on the band. This means all the drips go back in the can and you don’t get paint on the sides of tin, making it easier to close after use.
amateurgardening.com/blog
2: Opening wine bottles: Don’t have a corkscrew? Get a screw from your toolbox, screw it into the top of the cork and then use the claw end of a claw hammer to lever the cork out.
A screw and a hammer gibe Garry easy access to his wine cellar (when he’s mislaid his corkscrew!)
I think this is a risky one, but in the interests of science I have already done the first bit, as you can see from the illustration above. At the time of writing the sun is quite a way from the yardarm, so I have yet to finish the task. I’ll keep you posted!
3: Bin-bag suction blues: Have trouble getting the plastic bin bag out of the bin when it’s full because of suction? Drill several holes in the side of the bin at the bottom so air can escape and it won’t happen again.
  Wendy Humphries, letters editor
1: This little trick is a family favourite, in fact, it was my son Tom who told me about it. I would often spill juices or milk from a tetra pack style container.
Snip a hole in the top of the carton to stop juice spilling as you pour
The way to solve it is to make a small cut in the cardboard on the opposite side of the spout. Then, when you pour, the liquid runs smoothly without annoying big ‘glugs’ that always spill on the worktop.
2: I always plan the week’s meals in advance of going to the supermarket. That way, I only buy what we need and there’s less waste. It’s quite reassuring to know what’s coming each night, and if I am feeling organised, will get the slow cooker going in the morning. Then at the end of a long day,  I can spend time in the garden before supper!
amateurgardening.com/blog
3: I usually fill my watering cans and leave them by the greenhouse door each evening. This saves time, as they’re ready to go each day, and the plants prefer water that’s warm rather than receiving a shock from cold tap water.
  Kathryn Wilson, features coordinator
1: If you save glass jars from jam etc to re-use for storing dried goods, these look a lot nicer without the original labels on. Getting them off is tricky, however, as although a good soak usually helps with the top layer, you’re often left with a gluey residue. To remove this, rub with a spot of cooking oil on a cloth.
2: One for the bakers: when a recipe calls for golden syrup it can be a right pain as the syrup sticks to the spoon, which is both messy and wasteful.
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I use an old trick from school cookery lessons and tip water from a freshly boiled kettle over the (metal) spoon beforehand. This heats up the metal so the syrups slides off cleanly. You’ll need to do it for each spoonful, though.
Travel with toiletries in a knotted dog poo bag to avoid nasty spillages
3: My third tip is dog poo bags – yes, really. Leak-proof and (usually) biodegradable, they’re incredibly useful. If you’re packing to go away, put liquid toiletries like shampoo in these bags and tie tightly.
That way, if the cabin pressure on the plane loosens the lids, any spills are contained. You can also use them for wet swimwear after that last-minute dip before you head home.
And if you’re walking your dog and it’s hot, a poo bag makes an ad hoc water bowl. Fill, hold by the handles and put it close to your dog’s mouth – they’ll soon get the idea.
  Janey Goulding, assistant editor
1: When life gives you lemons, as any domestic goddess knows, you’ve bagged yourself a fabulous cleaning agent. In domiciliary crisis, out should pop your lemons.
Mix juice with salt (four parts to one) to lift stains even in vintage fabrics or delicates, and add juice to laundry to give greys a lift. Rub the juicy flat edge across a cutting board to clean grooves. It even removes limescale from stainless steel.
Bonus hacks: Squeeze juice into warm water and soak fingers for 10mins for whiter nails. Lemon skin halves also make great pots for starting peppers and radishes from seed.
2: Want to save on first aid remedies? Try toothpaste: it’s more than just a pretty face! Grab some minty fresh pain relief for bug bites – it stops itching and accelerates healing.
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Lichen metabolite Usnic acid is antibacterial and anti-inflammatory. Toothpaste is also soothing for minor burns, and reduces the swelling in spots; just apply in small quantities, and don’t leave on too long as it dries out the skin.
Bonus hacks: Spot a scratch on a CD or DVD? Buff with toothpaste and a soft cloth. This gritty little marvel also brightens up white keyboards and piano keys.
Tomato ketchup is great for cleaning the family silver. Picture: Alamy
3: You don’t need fancy polish to tart up tarnished silverware: just splash on the tomato ketchup! This wonder sauce contains acids that remove copper oxides (as sterling silver contains copper).
Sounds pongy, but it works: just dip silverware in ketchup for a few minutes before rinsing. Also works on sterling silver jewellery, copper pots and rusty garden furniture.
Bonus hacks: Ketchup is an amazing exfoliator mixed with sugar, and a safe way to soothe skin when shaving. And while it may be a while before we go swimming, ketchup repairs chlorine damage to hair: rub in for 20mins and rinse.
  Les Upton, features editor
1: I always use bicarbonate of soda (baking soda) to clean the fridge as it removes odours and doesn’t leave behind a scent that food will absorb. I wash the (empty) fridge with very hot water and dry it with kitchen towel. I then mix one part of bicarbonate of soda with four parts of hot water and dry it using paper towels.
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2: My second lifestyle hack is using furniture polish on the bathroom tiles, particularly around the shower. When we had our bathroom tiled, I cleaned the tiles with hot, soapy water and then sprayed all the tiles with furniture polish.
Then a quick buff with a microfibre cloth produced a lovely shine. The furniture polish also provides a protective layer on the tiles, making them easier to clean. Make sure you don’t use any furniture polish on the bath, though, as it will become very slippery!
Pringles tubes are ideal for carrying small amounts of plant food around the allotment – even better, you have to eat the crisps first!
3: My final hack involves using empty Pringle tubes in the garden. I buy my chicken manure pellets, lime, blood, fish & bone in big bags from the allotment trading shed. These are too heavy to carry around the allotment, so I decant some into Pringle tubes. The plastic lid also keeps the contents dry. And the tubes seem to last for ages!
  Ruth Hayes, gardening editor
One of the earliest lifestyle hacks I learnt was the trick of keeping your duvet and sheet sets in one of their pillowcases, to avoid an unholy tangle in the laundry cupboard.
Everyone does that these days so here are three other tips that I think are worth sharing:
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1: If you have a jar with a lid that won’t budge for love nor money, either tap it a couple of times on the side of the work surface or up-end it in a bowl and pour in some boiling water. Voila! The lid will come off with a satisfying plop.
Cutting the top off a tube of hand cream or moisturiser lets you use up every last drop
2: I suffer from very dry and sensitive skin so the house is littered with tubes of unguents and emollients bought in the hope they will help my skin. Just don’t get me started on the amount of money I’ve spent on supposed ‘miracle’ creams that only make matters worse.
Anyway, I’ve learned that when a tube feels empty with apparently nothing more to give, if you cut it open, about halfway down, you will find weeks of lotion clinging to the sides and ready to be scooped out and applied.
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3: After cutting back your trees and shrubs don’t compost all the prunings. Instead, bundle together the longer, more shapely ones and store them to use as pea sticks and plant supports next summer. They are just as good as canes and other bought supports and look more attractive and less obtrusive.
And finally, your onus hack – having trouble remembering which way to turn a screw to loosen it? Just think ‘righty tighty, lefty loosey’ and you’ll be fine.
  We are here for you
Although lockdown is easing, many people are still confined to their homes or concerned about going out because they are vulnerable to catching C19.
Here at AG we appreciate that and are doing our best to keep connected with our readers though the magazine, this website and also through social media.
Our gardening ‘agony uncle’ John Negus is also still working hard. Send him your problems and questions, with pictures if you can, and he will get back to you with an answer within 24 hours, as he has been doing for decades. Contact him using the AG email address at: [email protected]
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We already have thriving Facebook page but are also on Twitter and Instagram. These sites are a brilliant way of chatting to people, sharing news, information, pictures and just saying hello – we will get back to you as soon as we can.
Best of all, as gardeners are generally lovely folk, more interested in plants, hedgehogs, tea and cake than political shenanigans and point-scoring, so the chat is friendly and welcoming.
You can find us at:
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So please drop by, follow us, ‘like’ our posts and say hello – we will reply as soon as we can. Happy gardening!
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