#Battery Store

[tristandawecarlover13]

Batteries are the heroes that power up everyday adventures. 🔋💥 And when it comes to finding the right battery for every need, Every Battery is your go-to battery store for expertise, selection and service. 💪🛒

[fixtops]

The Ultimate Guide To Finding The Best Battery Store Near You | FixTops When searching for the best battery store near you, it is important to consider a few key factors. Firstly, check the store's reputation and customer reviews to ensure they offer high-quality products and reliable service. Additionally, compare prices and warranties offered by different stores to make an informed decision that meets your needs and budget. 

[ghospectr]

i just think itd be silly if they matched

[vinyls-and-valentines]

There are whispers of things before Battery City.

Of stubby buildings not unlike the skyscrapers modern citizens proudly call home and safety, but adorned with flimsy wood and glass cut-outs, or plaster casts that range from vain to downright obscene. Of wilderness, untamed, smothering clean and orderly neighbourhoods in an onslaught of burrowing roots, web-woven branches, and leaves serving as nothing more than breeding grounds for pests.

The bones of what once were giants now rest on the outskirts of town, hollowed and forgotten, like stalwart reminders of hardship overcome through ambition and human ingenuity. Yet, if one were to take a closer look at these remains, they would find little to no proof of any of the above: no scars left in the pavement or shattered stone ornaments— only scortched earth, shattered glass tinted by years of grime and canned paints amongst pieces of plastic all strewn about and shriveled up in shame.

Instead, the truth lives in glimpses caught between the pages of tattered journals, lost family albums, and long-overdue history books. There once were museums where Battery City now stands. Churches, libraries, and synagogues. Broadcast stations and astronomical observatories. There were post offices and schools, and houses older than the ages of everyone you've known combined, none of which still standing in the age of Progress and Valor (or more aptly known as the Danger Days).

What remains of the past now rests alone and dejected, a warning lost beneath the waves: Make yourself insignificant enough, and maybe one day you'll get yourself to believe comformity will lead you to survival.

[hood-ex]

My dad was Bruce-ing again today.

Dad: Where are your keys? I'm gonna go put more air in your tire.

Me: I already filled it up this week.

Dad: Oh okay.

Dad goes upstairs for a second and comes back with a bag in his hand.

Dad: Here, take this poncho and put it in your glove compartment. In case you have to pull over in the rain, put it on so other cars can see you.

So then I took my new bright ass orange poncho to my car, bypassing the three water bottles my dad had stuffed in the door pocket as well as the emergency phone battery pack charger he stuffed in another pocket.

[cosmereclysmic]

If emotional pain feels like physical pain could you replicate Odium-numbing-Moash levels of numbing with a Painrial? 🤔🤔🤔

[artemistorm]

Brain is vibrating in ways I don't want it to. Been stuck in a cycle of opening and closing tumblr, discord, and ao3 all day. Ugh.

[springlock-suits]

Hnnnnnng

[sincerely-sofie]

In light of people being way too kind to me about the excerpts from that Hollow Knight fic I posted a bit ago: I have some more snippets of various old Hollow Knight fics that I want to get out into the world because they've been buzzing around in my head like angry yellow jackets at a summertime picnic 🥲

Hollow Knight Fanfic Speed-Dating, GO!!!!!

(From a fic shipping Hollow and the Collector:)

The Malfunctioning Kingsmold made it a point to try and drag the Hollow Knight into imperfection along with him (often quite literally, as he would hook a finger into the anchors on its pauldrons to lead it on his misadventures). Not that it would ever stoop to such things— the preservation of Hallownest rested in its hands, and it could not safely bolster up the kingdom into eternity if it dirtied its fingers with indulgence— but the Malfunctioning Kingsmold was persistently getting on its nerves and looking to make it crack. A mountain could not bow to the wind, but that did not make its howling any less insufferable. 

(From a fic where Ghost checks in on the Hunter a while after the Embrace the Void ending:)

The “cave” lying in the center of the chamber stirred. Six eyes opened in its yawning mouth, and the mound rose, revealing the head of the bug she’d come to visit. The Hunter growled, “You carry the scent of the hunt, little wanderer. I take it prey has been numerous.”

Hornet would have just complained that she stunk. Thankfully, the Hunter didn’t turn up his nose over such things. Ghost shook her head— she hadn’t slain many bugs since the Infection was uprooted, and that vengefly wasn’t even all that close when she slashed it. She didn’t know what he was talking about. 

The Hunter dug most of this cavern himself, yet his head still brushed the ceiling when he rose to his full height. “The pestilence has gone to dust. My own quarry has adapted accordingly, and I find that I might hunt them anew. You’ve not taken the chance to pursue the beasts of this kingdom?”

She shook her head, stopped, then shrugged. 

“Curious.” He reached out a large hand that she clambered onto. He held her level with his eyes. “I thought you one to continue the hunt even after finishing your journal.”

Ah, right, that. She pulled the journal out from her cloak and fanned through its pages, stopping on a leaf that she’d inserted herself. She set it on his palm. She squatted and pointed to the page, waiting as he looked it over. 

He blinked. “You hunted gods.” There was a long pause, then a rumbling laugh filled the cavern. “And to think I once called you squib! What an insult to those haughty fools, being brought low by one so tiny. But a hunter’s strength lies in deception, doesn’t it, in lulling prey into a sense of safety— of course you, so small and so plain, would bring gods to their knees.”

Behind her mask, she snickered, though it came out sounding more like a rattling cough than anything else. She didn’t mind being thought of as small when it made her seem all the mightier.

(From a fic where Hornet encounters Quirrel outside of Dirtmouth:)

Hornet took a chance and leapt down one branch further. The bug was close enough now that she could tell it was a pillbug— he wore a bandana around his head and carried a remarkably crafted nail. She hissed, “I’ll ask again. What do you want, traveler? Why are you in these woods?”

“I’m here to visit someone in Dirtmouth and to do good where I can. Nothing sinister, I assure you.”

She gripped her needle beneath her cloak. “I am a stewardess of Dirtmouth. Tell me who you’re looking for and why. Answer well and I’ll help you find who you’re looking for.”

“Ah, well… I’m afraid I don’t know their name. They didn’t talk much about themselves— or anything at all, really. They’ve helped me more times than I can count, but I haven’t heard from them since… since they saved my life. They’re rather small, about yea high? To be frank, they also carry a very unfortunate scent about them.”

Hornet blinked. 

“They knew how to wield a nail with frightening skill, if that helps.”

Hornet pinched her brow. 

“Do you know who they might be, or—?”

“Gods. You’re talking about Ghost. Follow me.”

(From the same fic as above, when Quirrel and Ghost reunite and catch up on what happened while they were separated:)

Quirrel’s eyes widened. “He had a beard and an odd horn, yes. Do you know Lemm?”

She nodded and held out her handful of Geo.

“You did business with him!” He laughed. “Then you must have been the customer who he loved to complain so much about.”

Ghost nodded and scuffed her foot on the sidewalk, proudly showing off the muddy print she left.

“He doesn’t like dirt, does he? He also said that you came into his shop one day smelling like you spent a week in the sewers. Did you really take a trip through them?”

She opened her map again and pointed to where she’d jumped down an open grate, then fallen into the Royal Waterways.

Quirrel tilted his head, face screwed up with disgust. “Well, at least it was sewers that once belonged to the nobility.”

She shrugged. That sort of thing didn’t mean much to her. Dung was dung, though Ogrim might argue otherwise.

(From a fic where Hollow finds the Pale King hiding in the Dream Realm version of the White Palace, and he hugs her when he realizes how badly he messed up with the Vessels:)

He could hear the quiet whines coming from their throat, now— tiny, pitiful, weepy sounds that were strangled by a spell to prevent any word from escaping a vessel's mouth. He'd woven that spell. He'd done that to them. And here the child was, now taller than him almost twice over, coming to him for forgiveness, when he could feel the openings in the shell of their back that he had carved into them.

He felt sick. 

The Hollow Knight's side was sunken in. 

He shifted his hand along their shoulder, confused, and eventually pulled back to better examine them. The Hollow Knight did not move as he took hold of their cloak, nor did they so much as twitch as he moved it to the side. They only hunched inward, ashamed, when he cursed under his breath at the sight their gnarled shoulder that ended in bandages instead of an arm, how pockmarked and sunken-in all of their shell was— not an inch of it spared from the mercilessly generous scarring. Even Herrah, the warrior queen famed for her countless scars, would blanch at the severity of it all. 

He held them closer and fought back tears of his own.

(Later passage from the same fic as the above--- TPK has left the Dream Realm and is given temporary housing in Ghost's home while Mato is visiting.)

"My apologies, I forgot my manners." The Nailmaster smiled brightly. "My name is Mato. I studied under the Great Nailsage, and I am this little warrior's father. By choice, not by blood, though it makes little difference." He reached up to pat the arm of the little vessel sat astride his shoulders. 

The vessel squeezed their arms tighter around his horns, pouting.

Ah. The Pale King took a sip of his tea. It was poorly steeped and the flavor was far too strong as a result, but the opportunity to ground himself in the face of that revelation was welcome. 

(This child had grown up with darkness above them and dried out husks underfoot. They had managed to escape the Abyss. They had found someone to provide the care and concern for them that no one else had. He had no right to feel as pained by the fact as he did.)

(That fact did nothing to change the guilt spearing him.)

"How noble, to take in a wandering grub," he finally said. 

(More dialogue happens--- Ghost storms off to her bedroom in the middle of Mato and TPK's conversation, and Hollow follows shortly after to comfort her.)

"Is…" The Pale King struggled to summon both the words and the resolve to ask his question. "Is this a frequent occurrence?" He tapped his claws against the mug. "That the H— that Holly is required to reassure Ghost?"

"There are good days and bad. Their brother is also typically here to bolster the child before she begins struggling too much, so it doesn't often get to the point where Holly is needed." There was a long moment of dead air. He sighed. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this. It's her business, not mine." He smiled again, resuming his jovial demeanor. "I interrupted you before. How are you related to Ghost and her siblings?"

"I am their—" He paused. "I am their father. Theirs by birth, at least."

Mato blinked several times, kind expression flickering between many emotions before settling on a carefully neutral look. "Ah. Ghost has…" He glanced away, brow furrowed. "… mentioned you on a few occasions, I believe."

[awek-s]

atp absolutely cannot blame ppl here for hating my nationality like the customers we got today that had to be told ‘no’ and the way they reacted to it made me want the ground to open up and swallow me whole

[selfmaderibcageman]

my general hostility to renewables is that they're base load power generators like nuclear. but worse at it. they lack reliability like nuclear, which means that you need to have way more peak plants, grid batteries, or the like, to deal with situations where you have high power draw *and* renewable shutdown. i feel like this should be obvious. if you want to go 100% renewable, you need to be working on renewable energy storage and dispatchable generation. whether that's biodiesel turbines or w/e.

[crystalleoi]

au in which most of the dead mephones r just existing in a server in meeple. Yippee

[sometimesanalice]

So the Apple Genius who helped me today learned two things:

1) Yes, tumblr is still very much alive and well (and that 60% of my battery usage goes toward it)

AND

2) that I keep notes for fics I write under headers such as “Rooster Smut” and “🗒️🍑🍆”

send help, my soul has left my body 😂😭😂

[oldblood]

fear mongering worked on me i think my laptop’s lithium battery is inflating but i’m too scared to handle it

[slowdesire]

what i saw within the first 5 minutes of rummaging versus what i left with after 2 hours of being an insane person (and an old man helping me get one of these because it was stacked under 28783 other cds and i was struggling while he was looking for a beatles album)

[djsangos]

//WHY IS MY PHONE SO SLOWWW THERE WAS A PRETTY RED BIRD RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW AND I WAS GONNA TAKE A PICUTRE OF IT BUT MY PHONE ALWAYS LIKES TO UNLOCK SLOWER THAN MOLASSES WHEN I NEED TO USE IT QUICKLY AAAAAAAUGH