#Iron Pills at cheap price

[libratalks]

The Resurgence of CDs: the "forgotten format" remembered by me

I know what you're thinking. There is no rebirth of CDs, Isha.

The facts tell us that they have been dying a slow death since their peak in the 2000s, suffering a 97% drop in sales revenue back in 2020. It fails to be a viable commercial format due to performing terribly in sales' data, with only a 1.1% increase in the US during 2021. No one is buying CDs, and those who are, well they just don't matter in the grand scheme of things for a few reasons. There are various sources of media that say otherwise, yet Damon Krukowski boldly states that one of the reasons why journalists have been penning articles regarding "the resurgence of CDs" is because there is a sense of false consciousness attached: it is an attempt by the industry to substitute the interests of the rich for one's own; to distract music consumers from facing the deeper problems within music distribution, such as a supposed booming economy in the music industry despite there being a great income inequality. To which I say, true, but un(?)fortunately, our minds do not resort to that aspect of the resurgence of CDs immediately. I mean, really, when I came across a sticker-peeled, used copy of Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill in the snug CD section of my temporary hometown's Oxfam (I was in Bath during my second year of university), I was hardly thinking of the effects of CD sales in the music industry. What I was thinking about was the excitement I felt in the pit of my stomach to be eight years old again, sat on my bedroom floor, wanting to scream the lyrics to Ironic whilst dancing around my stereo. If there is a resurgence of CDs, it is thanks to my generation: Gen-Z.

Perhaps one of Krukowski's faults is that he is building his conclusions based on CD sales from corporate stores, not independent stores that sell pre-owned copies. An hour ago, I was stood in a place named Record Collector in Sheffield, a whole store dedicated to collecting CDs along with artist memorabilia, such as tour posters and band autobiographies. There are also places such as Oxfam and Truck Store in Oxford where pre-owned copies of various CDs are sold at cheap prices ranging from 99p to £5. These stores are where the heart of CD-love lies. It's the accessibility with personal ownership that is comforting, along with the affordable pricing in contrast with vinyl prices. This reason for CD appreciation has always been evident, yet the introduction of MP3 files and the quick accessibility to downloads back in the 2000s is one of the murderers of the CD craze. Once there was a rise in MP3 players being sold, CD sales nearly halved between 2000 and 2007. Despite this, various artists and music fans remain defending CDs against MP3 players due to MP3 files becoming compressed when downloaded, affecting the audio quality of the song. With CDs, the audio is never compressed nor tweaked in any way. Yes, you could also just encode your MP3 files at a higher bit rate, but that leads me to my next favourite thing about CDs.

THE CREATIVITY IS UNMATCHED. I have always been a visual learner of some sort, falling in love with aesthetics that are carefully crafted in front of me for my own enjoyment. It's why I adore films over books, possess a keen eye and attention to detail when it comes to their direction and fashion, and it is also why I love CDs in the way that I do. I mean, I have a whole Instagram page dedicated to the craftsmanship that artists have demonstrated through their CDs. I own a growing collection, ranging from artists like Hole and Radiohead, along with Avril Lavigne and Alanis Morissette. All CDs I own are bought based on two things: how much I love the music and how much I adore the artwork. This creativity that artists can build on introduces a realm of sentimentality for when a music consumer witnesses time taken to produce a delicate work of art, where thorough thought has been given to which photos will be used for the cover - what colour scheme we are aiming for in terms of the album's aesthetic - which font should be used for the title and should it be the same for the lyrical pages in the booklet? - these are intricate details that an artist recognises and appreciates, no matter what. With so much love and care given to a piece of work that you have crafted, not always alone but with a team, you can't help but feel a sense of inspiration along with appreciation for the beauty of it all - allowing you to feel a strong connection with the artist. With that, no other music format could even compare to the liberation of creativity that CDs possess.

If there's anything you're going to take from me and my ranting, please let it be this: close your eyes, think of an album, or a song, or an artist that you can't help but feel a strong connection to, and buy one of their CDs. Go through the cover booklet, consume and appreciate each framing of text on each page - ask yourself why they chose to use that font or that colour - have the music playing at the same time and read through each page that consists of their lyrics... Let yourself be completely enamoured by the artist's choices of creativity and build your critical thinking in terms of what could be going on inside their minds.

You'll find yourself tapping into a whole new aspect of consuming music, especially in terms of appreciating visual individuality and the liberation that comes with it. All these feelings... thank you, CDs.

[digilancerasif]

7 WAYS TO ALWAYS DRESS CLASSY

Here you will know 7 awesome way to look classy which look good at you

#1 WEAR ITEMS THAT ARE MADE OF CLASSIC FABRICS

Classic, timeless clothing made of materials that will last well into the next decade is what you should be looking to add to your essential wardrobe. Think cotton, wool, linen, and silk. These four basic fabrics will stand the test of time if cared for properly. Cleaned and pressed, items made of these fabrics tend to give off a classy vibe all on their own.

These fabrics also have variations that allow you to expand on your wardrobe. Denim is one example of a cotton fabric that cuts across all style lines, from street to boho to minimalist. Similarly, chino cotton works excellent in pants, blazers, and even moto jackets (for the street style in you!). Then there is cashmere, a type of wool that feels heavenly against the skin and doesn’t pill with age. Cashmere sweaters, whether they are cardigans, V-necks, or crewneck pullovers pair perfectly with those denim jeans, as well as tailored pants and skirts.

A word to the wise with these fabrics: Read the labels and care for them properly to make them last. While wrinkle-free cotton has become more available, most cotton items will need to be ironed. (Classy outfits are not wrinkly!) Wool, linen, and silk often have to be dry-cleaned or hand-washed. Make a mistake, and you may have to give your 6-year-old-niece that wool cardigan that was a staple in your wardrobe but shrunk in half thanks to your dryer.

#2 IF IN DOUBT WEAR SOLID NEUTRALS

Bold patterns and prints can definitely work in a sophisticated and classy look, but you may not be comfortable with such patterns if you are just beginning on your classy style journal. Neutrals are your friend in this case. Solids are plentiful in the stores (and probably your closet), easily combined, and help to stretch your wardrobe.

Typical neutrals are white/beige/cream, navy blue, black, and gray. Now, don’t think you have to dress head-to-toe in black (or other neutral). Monochromatic (different shades or tints of the same color) allow you to vary a color but remain classy. Or you can add small accents that can transform a solid into something eye-catching, like a skinny burgundy alligator belt, a paisley scarf, or a pair of red pumps. Want to know more about monochromatic dressing? Make sure to read What is Monochromatic and How to Wear a Monochromatic Outfit.

#3 FIT IS KEY

Classy and sophisticated clothing is typically tailored and form-fitting (not too tight, but you can show off your figure). Skirts should hit just above or below the knee, as should your classy dresses. Classic trousers are straight, slightly wide, faintly bootcut, or menswear-inspired and should be ½-inch off the floor in the back. Wide-leg pants and skinny pants in classic fabrics are also acceptable, as are ankle pants (shades of Audrey Hepburn!). Blazers, blouses, and sweaters should follow the curve of your waist.

Do not hesitate to take items to a local dressmaker or tailor to be altered to fit correctly. Love that shift dress at Nordstrom, but it’s too big in the bust? That’s a $15 fix. Are those gray wool pants in your closet too long for classic 3-inch pumps or do you want to wear them with flats? Another $10-15 fix. Remember, good quality clothes will last you for 10+ years, and it is a small price to pay for alterations. Beats having to replace cheap pants every three years.

Not everything you wear has to be perfectly tailored and form-fitting. You can mix in unstructured pieces for a more relaxed vibe. Pair a blue-striped t-shirt with chinos and a denim jacket or a flowy maxi skirt with a crisp white button-down shirt (roll up those sleeves for added panache!).

Here is an example of how to wear a jumpsuit, and in this outfit, I opted for solid neutrals and paired a structured blazer with a flowy jumpsuit.

#4 NEVER OVEREXPOSE

Dressing classy requires a bit of modesty — no midriff-baring tops, revealing low décolletage, or mini skirts.

Necklines are typically collared, boatneck, crew neck or V-neck. For some variety, you can also try square, cowl, and scoop necks. For more formal occasions, asymmetrical, sweetheart and halter necklines work as well. Regardless, keep your cleavage and your belly button covered. Additionally, armholes on blouses and dresses should not reveal your bra.

[thekitschdiet]

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet. 

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days. 

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress. 

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram.  Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it. 

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is  actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even… 

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera. 

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

 I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead.  Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit. 

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an  inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read). 

[thelifeofprettycommitteealpha]

Make Cheap Clothes Look Expensive (for LBRs)

You'd love to pop for an expensive wardrobe, but your wallet has other ideas. Never fear, you don't have to spend a fortune to create an expensive-looking wardrobe. Just making a few changes to your clothes, such as switching out the buttons, can make a huge difference. Also, looking for good quality items when you're buying clothes, even cheap ones, can really up your look. Once you've done that, all you need to do is throw out clothes when they start looking worn and pull together a great outfit before heading out the door. 

Making Changes to the Clothes

Have it tailored. Tailoring an outfit can help it fit much better, which in turn makes it look more expensive. Plus, tailoring an inexpensive outfit is much cheaper than springing for expensive brand names. Basically, you want to get the outfit nipped and tucked so it hugs your body instead of just hanging there.

If you don't want to have all your clothes tailored, just spring for the items you wear the most, such as your jacket.

Many dry cleaners also do alterations.

You can also try doing some alterations yourself, such as hemming a pair of pants.

Change out the buttons. Simple plastic buttons can make your clothing look cheap. Buttons out of other materials, such as bone, metal, and mother-of-pearl, can make your clothes look more expensive. You can switch them out yourself by cutting off the old ones and sewing on new ones, or get an alteration place to do it fairly cheaply.

Switch out the zippers. Cheap-looking zippers can also bring down the look of an outfit. Zippers are little more difficult to change out than buttons, so you may want to have a tailor do it.

Choosing Better Cheap Clothes

Pick better-looking fabrics. Fabrics that are shiny scream synthetic and often come across as cheap. Look for fabrics like cotton, linen, or fake suede, as they can be inexpensive. They wear much better than other cheap fabrics such as rayon or acrylic.

Choose all black or all white. Wearing all black or all white can help create a streamlined, high-quality effect. Therefore, if you invest in black and white pieces you can mix-and-match, your wardrobe will look more expensive overall. However, make sure you don't wear mismatched blacks (one more faded than the other), as that can look cheap.[1]

Keep it simple. When it comes to "extras" on the cheap end of clothes, such as embellishments, it's best to skip them. They can start to look cheap very fast. On the other hand, simple clothes with clean lines automatically elevate your outfit.

Make sure your clothes fit. Making sure clothing fits may seem obvious, but it can be hard to follow through in the dressing room. That is, you may fall in love with a piece, but if it's not in your size or doesn't fit quite right, you may still be tempted to buy it. Don't. Clothes that don't fit will always look cheaper.

Polyester can look fine in some cases. Hold it up to the light to see if it looks shiny, and run your hands over it to see how it feels against your skin.

Neutrals, such as tan, brown, and gray, can also look more expensive.

For example, instead of buying a fringed turquoise shirt with gold-like accents, opt for a sleek v-neck shirt with no embellishments that you can accessorize.

Paying Attention to Wear and Tear

Get rid of any clothes with stains. If you can't get a stain out of your shirt, such as grease or red wine, see if a dry cleaner can. If that fails, it's time to ditch the item. Stained clothes will never look expensive, so it's best to get rid of them when you can't wear them anymore.

Repair any problems. If a button pops off, sew it back on. If you see a loose thread, cut it off. It a hem starts to come undone, sew it back together (with thread in a matching color). All the little details are important, and if you don't fix them, they can cheapen your look.

Shine those shoes. Scuffed-up shoes can drag an outfit down. Make sure your shoes look polished, and it will help create a more expensive look overall. If your shoes are beyond polishing, it may be time to toss them.

Avoid clothes that look worn when you buy them. Distressed clothes can be very expensive, but sometimes, distressed clothes on the cheap end of the spectrum tend to look just look worn instead of fashion-forward. The main exception to this rule is jeans that have just been ripped (not distressed), which can still look good at a cheaper price.

Remove pills and lint. Pills can make clothes look instantly worn out. Use a pill remover to take care of that problem. Similarly, lint and pet hair can also bring down a look, so use a lint roller on your clothes as needed.

Similarly, try to wash your clothes as little as possible to prevent them from looking worn. Try spot-cleaning when possible.

Putting Outfits Together

Iron your clothes. Anytime you've got an event (or even school or work), get out the clothes you want to wear the night before. If you notice any obvious wrinkles, it's time to pull out the iron. Wrinkles can make anything look cheaper, so just ironing your clothes can make them seem like better quality.

Minimize the bumps. Bumps from your underwear can affect the clean lines of a sleek outfit. Opt for underwear that doesn't show, and you may even consider donning a slip to help smooth out the edges if you're wearing a dress.

Accessorize. Accessories can elevate any outfit, making it seem richer than it is. Gold accents, especially, can make an outfit look more expensive. Try adding some gold dangly earrings or even a gold clutch to your outfit to up its quality level.

Match colors. You may not want to go out dressed head-to-toe in green, but matching your shirt to your hat, bag, or shoes, for instance, can help pull an outfit together. The effect is the whole thing looks more expensive.

Tuck your shirt in with a belt. Hanging hemlines can give your outfit a messy quality. If you take the time to tuck your shirt or sweater in, it can make your whole look seem more polished and put-together.

A steamer can also do the job without you having to pull out an ironing board.

You can also add a pretty scarf to help elevate an outfit.

[elfwriter1088]

Old Guard fanfic (prologue)

A/n: Please bear with me. It’s been a hot minute since I got the time to do this. Plus, I blame @badassbaker (in a good way) for getting this done. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the Old Guard characters! That belongs to their respectful owners--don’t sue me! I only own the ones that you would not recognize (i.e. Nyx, Erik, etc.)

---(prologue)---

The blaring of a mobile device rings out into the otherwise silent apartment. Nothing happens for a couple of seconds before the figure underneath a pile of blankets swore under their breath as a hand reaches out to grab at the device.

“Hello?”

Hey, it's Book

“Where's the job at?”

Booker has to laugh--blunt and straight to the point. That's one thing about Nyx: you never beat around the bush with her.

I'll text you the details. How are you, l'amour? (love)

“You know what that does to me, Book. You think, after how many years we've known each other, that you would use that one weakness against me.”

Can you blame me? But, seriously, how are you?

Book could hear the gears turning in her head. Then again, who would blame the youngest member of the Old Guard for slipping to his native tongue on one of the older females. However, Nyx could outdo him on being fluent in a lot more than just French.

“It's been busy on my end. Trying to blend in a mundane day job while awaiting to see you all again. Je vous ai manqué (I missed you).”

Booker smiled at how Nyx managed that phrase with a hint of her own accent. It amazed him that she could slip into speaking different tongues with ease...after all, the woman had spent years living in Europe throughout most of history before making roots in the US after WWII.

And you said that I was playing dirty by using my mother tongue.

“Never said I play easy, Book. Who else will be there?”

Joe and Nicky are arriving in a couple of days...Andy too.

“It'll be good to see them again. Even though it's only been over a year since the last time. θα σε δω σύντομα, αγάπη (See you soon, love).”

As the figure ends the call, they sit up to reveal a disheveled woman, who was clearly just getting back to consciousness.

“...Σκατά. Δεν το πιστεύω ότι θα μου τηλεφωνούσε ακριβώς πριν τη βάρδια μου… Γαμώτο, πρέπει να βρήκα μια δικαιολογία την τελευταία στιγμή.” the woman mused aloud as she scrolled through her phone to place a call.

*Shit. I didn't think he would have called me just before my shift … Damn, I now have to find an excuse at the last minute*

Sand...gritty, earthy, hints of iron and raw material. The sun is hot, drying, killing all moisture in the humid air. The sounds of sword fighting, the grunts of men and women littered the surrounding atmosphere as far as the eye can see. People of all ages, from the age of three to eighteen, training and bettering themselves for future battles and parenthood.

In a blink of an eye...the scene changes to numerous battlefronts: different clothes...different tongues...different weapons...same results. Another blink: landscapes evolve with the passing years and eras of mankind. Same faces of agony...same faces of yearning for peace and hope...same color of death on the ground.

She is startled to consciousness as the memory of sleep starts to fade little by little. She's glad to have her headphones, although cheap by price in today's world, to block out any outside noise from her sleepy mind. She blinks away the sleep while getting into a more comfortable position in her seat, almost forgetting about the flight she's currently on to Morocco. Once in a good comfy position, she takes off the headphones and rubs at her weary face to a more alert look. Glancing down at the watch resting on her left wrist, she can read the time on there: 0238.

She wondered if the others were awake or asleep. Then again, Booker only called her up only nine hours prior to alert her of a new possible job for the group. It was not easy as far as booking a last minute flight, let alone from one of her own contacts in the US to get her safely to her destination. Then again, Nyx was owed this favor. Raphael knew that, once the petite brunette called him up just after Booker's phone call, her turning in that favor she was owed was something. He gave her details of the first possible flight to the other side of the Atlantic and Nyx was up in the air within four hours of planning. Now, five hours into a thirteen hour flight, Nyx was in dire need of catching as much sleep as she could.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and rose from the chair, grabbing a small toiletry bag in the process before she shuffled her way to the toilet onboard the jet plane. Once she closed the door and turned the vanity light on, she grimaced at the sudden brightness on the narrow compartment. Glancing back at her was a mirror image of herself: a messy chest length of dark brown hair rested on two directions on the left side of her head, bound only by a hair tie; her complexion looked a bit ashy, although the woman knew that her natural coloring was a somewhat warm olive-brown tone from years of being out in the sun and somewhat thanks to her genetics of long ago; vibrant amber-brown eyes hidden partially to the blue ringed contacts she wore to enhance the exotic nature of her origins.

She scowled a bit under her breath as she went about washing her face and brushing out her hair and teeth. Sighing once she freshen up a bit, she risked another glance in the mirror. She saw a worn-out woman looking back at her. She was merely surprised at how quickly she was able to scramble an excuse to her 'boss' of a family emergency that would take her out of the country for a while to care for them. She shook her head at the response she got back on how last minute the excuse was--then again, it was merely a front of her waiting for the next time she was called to help "save the world", as Andy would kindly phrase what the Old Guard was responsible for doing.

A soft knock on the door took over her musing thoughts. Nyx sighed in a breath as she turned the handle to see a young male looking back at her.

"Everything ok, ma'am?" The man asked, his voice a bit too soft for how tall he looked.

"Yeah...sorry, just wasn't intending to sleep so little for this trip, Erik."

Erik nodded his head, his crew cut hair did little to hide how handsome he appeared to others.

"Dad was mentioning that you would have issues with staying asleep. Did you try alcohol?"

Nyx gruffed at the suggestion of being drunk to sleep while flying.

"Wouldn't have worked for me. Even took a sleeping pill...tried it all, kid," she answered as she slowly got out of the small compartment; Erik allowed her to exit by scooting off to one side to allow her to pass. "I'm surprised that you fly this tincan at all. Your dad lost a bet with you?"

"Dad mostly does logistics now. Hasn't flown in a while due to his heart condition. Plus, he was really upset about missing out on taking ya." The man replied back as he took a seat across from Nyx.

"You left the control on autopilot, didn't ya"

The younger man nodded his head in response.

"Needed to take a nap. You ok with taking over for a bit while I catch a quick snooze?"

"Weather is going to be fine there?"

"Clear skies and only God to guide us there. It's safe."

Nyx nodded her head in return.

"Go on. I'll holler if I need ya," she said, grabbing a can of Cola Coca on the way to the pilothouse and giving Erik a squeeze of his shoulder in passing.

After getting situated in the pilot seat, Nyx let out a breath she didn't realize she held. The man accompanying her was the son of the man that helped Nyx get her semi-retired life in order. She helped raise that kid from diapers. Although, she never once complained at the mere thought of looking after one of her descendants from one of her long-lost children of yonder ago. She had been careful of revealing too much of her origins to Erik's father, but the boy wasn't blind nor stupid to see some sort of family resemblance. The kid was quite good at keeping his thoughts to himself--only happy to have someone be his guiding hand at times; other times, just be there if he needed an ear to vent to.

Sighing once more, Nyx prepared for however long it would take to fly the jet before the young pilot would awake from his slumber and join her on the controls.

[thesteelbiteproreview]

Steel Bite Pro

Steel Bite Pro Supplement Reviews 

Are you suffering with gum bleeding? Would like to know what’s really happening inside your body when gums are bleeding? It may lead to plague in your throat, nose and airways. Your Doctor might recommend deep cleaning treatments, medications and painful surgeries or implants that could melt your savings within few days. Here is the review about Steel Bite Pro supplement that helps you to get rid of tooth decay. 

 What is Steel Bite Pro supplement? 

Steel Bite Pro is the 100% natural solution to rebuild your teeth and gums. It destroys the bacteria that creats plaque, inflammation, bleeding in gums and bad breath with effective plant extracts. It gives you a health look and smile with improved confidence of having a whiter tooth. 

It has the sources of 23 plants, herbs, minerals and vitamins at right quantities in a single capsule for easy consumption. You can take one capsule a day on regular basis for best results. It is manufactured in USA under strict safety standards and GMP certified facility. 

 Click To Order Now  

 How it works? 

The saliva is the only thing that reaches every corner of your mouth and goes under your gums. It protects your teeth and gums. It has anti-bacterial properties and mineral as well as proteins. It can fight millions of bacteria without any help. The Steel Bite pro supplement turns your saliva into the most powerful disinfectant that could break the tartar and destroy the termite-bacteria with the helps of certain herbs, plants and minerals. It consists of 29 top ingredients from the purest locations. It is 100% effective and treats from inside your body to supercharge your saliva and makes it an ultimate dental weapon. 

 Step 1: Breaks the existing plaque. 

Step 2: Teeth Rejuvenating. Locate the bacteria colonies and destroy them.

Step 3: Tighten your loose gums, heal the wounds and cement the teeth roots.

Step 4: strengthen your teeth crowns by filling them with minerals and vitamins.

Step 5: It purifies and detoxifies the gut and balance the mouth bacteria. 

Step 6: Oral rejuvenation of teeth and gums. 

 Ingredients added in Steel Bite Pro Pills: 

Berberine : It is the powerful antioxidant and anti-inflammatory herb has been shown to fight harmful microorganisms, including bacteria, viruses, fungi and parasites.

Turmeric : It is an antimicrobial herb, that can help to remove plaque, bacteria inflammation effectively. 

Milk Thistle: It helps to treat damage to liver caused by heavy metals. These metals can also cause brain damage. This ingredient is effective in cleaning up and detoxifying your mouth and body. 

Artichoke, Chanca Piedra and Red raspberry: These ingredients are loaded with vitamins and minerals like vitamin C, vitamin K, folate, phosphorus, and magnesium, which act as essential purifying agents and are especially important for mouth infections. 

Yarrow: It increases fibroblasts, which are the cells responsible for regenerating connective tissue and helping your body recover from injury. 

Beetroot: It helps to heal wounds and stains your teeth to stop tooth decay. Dandelion: It is the greens provide a substantial amount of several minerals, including iron, calcium, magnesium and potassium. 

 Click To Order Now  

Alfalfa: It reduces sensitivity and strengthens the teeth. 

The Jujube seeds: They are particularly rich in vitamin C, an important vitamin with high antioxidant and immune-boosting properties. 

Zinc: It is the trace mineral naturally found in saliva to fight the growth the bacteria and plaque. Powerful blend of Chicory Root, Celery Seed, Burdock Root and Yellow Dock: It detoxifies your body and maintain the gut balance. It reduces inflammation and strengthens your teeth.

Grape Seed Extract: It prevents the growth of common foodborne bacteria.

Ginger: It contains gingerol, which is excellent at fighting off bacteria 

and preventing infection. 

Feverfew: It is a natural pain relief, without the harmful side effects of common drugs.

Methionine and L Cysteine: They are additionally added amino acids to support body’s detoxification process. 

Cause of Bleeding gums: 

The bacteria are like small termites that are relentlessly chewing on your teeth and gums, leaving them bleeding and inflamed. It might be from food, kissing or some drinking. Within times, the bacteria start multiplying and accumulates to form plaque and calculus. It spreads on the teeth walls and causes bad breath. The bacteria become even more resistant when you do the following: 

Advantages of Steel Bite Pro supplement:

It helps to get rid of your gum swelling and tooth pain with natural effects. You can improve the strength of your teeth, tighten it and have a lighter shade. You can feel free to talk close with your friends without the fear of bad breath. The supplement can be used by anyone at any age regardless of their medical condition. It is the natural and effective method to destroy the dangerous bacteria that causes tooth decay. You can save your money spent on dental clinics for treatments, time and energy as well.

You can feel the difference within three weeks and keep your gums and teeth safe from future dental disorders. As the ingredients are natural plant extracts sourced from the best and original place it is 100% safe and doesn’t produce any negative effects. There is 60-day money back guarantee that gives you absolutely risk-free investment. Drawbacks: The supplement is available only in online from its official website only. 

Already Decided to Get This Supplement? Good News Official Steel Bite Pro Website Is Steel Bite Pro FDA approved? The FDA does not certify dietary supplement products, such as Steel Bite Pro. However, Steel Bite Pro is manufactured in an FDA registered facility that follows GMP (Good Manufacturing Practice) guidelines. And the Steel Bite Pro Manufactured in USA. 

 Is Steel Bite Pro a good product? 

Steel Bite Pro has been taken by thousands of folks with no reported side effects. Unlike toxic medications, everything inside Steel Bite Pro is natural. You might experience some nights where you don’t want to go to sleep when your energy levels soar through the roof! And you might have friends pestering you and asking what you’ve been up to look so goodbut we trust those are minor annoyances. 

 Is Steel Bite Pro safe? 

There are no negative side effects to worry about. Everything is 100% natural and safe. Is Steel Bite Pro GMP Certified? Yes, the Steel Bite Pro manufacturer in an FDA registered facility that follows GMP (Good Manufacturing Practice) guidelines. 

 Can you buy Steel Bite Pro at Walmart or Amazon? 

Not at all and will never be available on their store. Recently, they were caught with over 4000 tainted, unsafe and cheap supplements and vitamins. Most of them from China. You deserve better than that and why you can only get Steel Bite Pro here. It’s the only way we can ensure quality remains the same throughout the entire process. 

 What are the ingredients in Steel Bite Pro? 

The Ingredients are 100% natural and Safe. And read above mentioned list of the ingredients included in this Steel Bite Pro supplement 

 Why this Steel Bite Pro not available in stores?

As per Creator stringent quality standards, They can’t ensure product quantities demanded by the Walmarts and Targets of the world. In fact, we supply just enough for our direct customers ONLY. That’s why it pays to select the multi-bottle options, so you never worry about running out. 

 Is everything made in the USA? 

Yes. Steel Bite Pro is formulated and shipped to you within the United States of America.

How do I use Steel Bite Pro? 

Just 1 small capsule in in the morning and you’re all set. 

Is Steel Bite Pro safe for diabetics? 

Yes, you can take this supplement every day after the morning meal. 

What if this doesn’t work for me? 

With literally billions of people on the planet, there will be some this doesn’t work for. That’s even the case with most prescription drugs. So if you do happen to be in the minority on this and it doesn’t work for you, remember, you’re protected by a rock-solid 60-Day Money-Back Guarantee. Just call us up or send us an email. Tell us it didn’t work, send the bottles back and you’ll be guaranteed a prompt refund. No questions and no hassles. Read the Real Customer Feedback and testimonials of Steel Bite Pro Here 

 Pricing: 

1-month supply cost $69 only with free shipping. 

3-month supply cost $177 with free shipping. ($59 each) 

6-month supply cost $294 with free shipping. ($49 each) 

 Final words: 

The Steel Bite Pro supplement is the best supplement if you are the one searching for the solution for treating your teeth and gum related problems in a natural way. The thousands of positive feedbacks from the users provides you the confidence about the results of the supplement. SO, what for you waiting? Get the supplement now before the offer ends. And one more thing 

You have an amazing benefit to use this 100% money back guarantee for the first 60 days of your purchase. If you aren’t satisfied or not benefited by the product, then you can claim your 100% refund immediately. With a 100% money-back guarantee policy, the supplements are definitely worth a try!

Click To Order Now

[steelbiteprothings]

Steel Bite Pro

Steel Bite Pro Supplement Reviews 

Are you suffering with gum bleeding? Would like to know what’s really happening inside your body when gums are bleeding? It may lead to plague in your throat, nose and airways. Your Doctor might recommend deep cleaning treatments, medications and painful surgeries or implants that could melt your savings within few days. Here is the review about Steel Bite Pro supplement that helps you to get rid of tooth decay. 

What is Steel Bite Pro supplement? 

Steel Bite Pro is the 100% natural solution to rebuild your teeth and gums. It destroys the bacteria that creats plaque, inflammation, bleeding in gums and bad breath with effective plant extracts. It gives you a health look and smile with improved confidence of having a whiter tooth. 

It has the sources of 23 plants, herbs, minerals and vitamins at right quantities in a single capsule for easy consumption. You can take one capsule a day on regular basis for best results. It is manufactured in USA under strict safety standards and GMP certified facility. 

Click To Order Now

How it works? 

The saliva is the only thing that reaches every corner of your mouth and goes under your gums. It protects your teeth and gums. It has anti-bacterial properties and mineral as well as proteins. It can fight millions of bacteria without any help.

The Steel Bite pro supplement turns your saliva into the most powerful disinfectant that could break the tartar and destroy the termite-bacteria with the helps of certain herbs, plants and minerals. It consists of 29 top ingredients from the purest locations. It is 100% effective and treats from inside your body to supercharge your saliva and makes it an ultimate dental weapon. 

Step 1: Breaks the existing plaque. 

Step 2: Teeth Rejuvenating. Locate the bacteria colonies and destroy them.

Step 3: Tighten your loose gums, heal the wounds and cement the teeth roots.

Step 4: strengthen your teeth crowns by filling them with minerals and vitamins.

Step 5: It purifies and detoxifies the gut and balance the mouth bacteria. 

Step 6: Oral rejuvenation of teeth and gums. 

Ingredients added in Steel Bite Pro Pills: 

Berberine : It is the powerful antioxidant and anti-inflammatory herb has been shown to fight harmful microorganisms, including bacteria, viruses, fungi and parasites.

Turmeric : It is an antimicrobial herb, that can help to remove plaque, bacteria inflammation effectively. 

Milk Thistle: It helps to treat damage to liver caused by heavy metals. These metals can also cause brain damage. This ingredient is effective in cleaning up and detoxifying your mouth and body. 

Artichoke, Chanca Piedra and Red raspberry: These ingredients are loaded with vitamins and minerals like vitamin C, vitamin K, folate, 

phosphorus, and magnesium, which act as essential purifying agents and are especially important for mouth infections. 

Yarrow: It increases fibroblasts, which are the cells responsible for regenerating connective tissue and helping your body recover from injury. 

Beetroot: It helps to heal wounds and stains your teeth to stop tooth decay. Dandelion: It is the greens provide a substantial amount of several minerals, including iron, calcium, magnesium and potassium. 

Click To Order Now

Alfalfa: It reduces sensitivity and strengthens the teeth. 

The Jujube seeds: They are particularly rich in vitamin C, an important vitamin with high antioxidant and immune-boosting properties. 

Zinc: It is the trace mineral naturally found in saliva to fight the growth the bacteria and plaque. Powerful blend of Chicory Root, Celery Seed, Burdock Root and Yellow Dock: It detoxifies your body and maintain the gut balance. It reduces inflammation and strengthens your teeth.

Grape Seed Extract: It prevents the growth of common foodborne bacteria. Ginger: It contains gingerol, which is excellent at fighting off bacteria and preventing infection. 

Feverfew: It is a natural pain relief, without the harmful side effects of common drugs. Methionine and L Cysteine: They are additionally added amino acids to support body’s detoxification process. 

Cause of Bleeding gums: 

The bacteria are like small termites that are relentlessly chewing on your teeth and gums, leaving them bleeding and inflamed. It might be from food, kissing or some drinking. Within times, the bacteria start multiplying and accumulates to form plaque and calculus. It spreads on the teeth walls and causes bad breath. The bacteria become even more resistant when you do the following: 

Advantages of Steel Bite Pro supplement:

It helps to get rid of your gum swelling and tooth pain with natural effects. You can improve the strength of your teeth, tighten it and have a lighter shade. You can feel free to talk close with your friends without the fear of bad breath. The supplement can be used by anyone at any age regardless of their medical condition. It is the natural and effective method to destroy the dangerous bacteria that causes tooth decay. You can save your money spent on dental clinics for treatments, time and energy as well. You can feel the difference within three weeks and keep your gums and teeth safe from future dental disorders. 

As the ingredients are natural plant extracts sourced from the best and original place it is 100% safe and doesn’t produce any negative effects. There is 60-day money back guarantee that gives you absolutely risk-free investment. Drawbacks: The supplement is available only in online from its official website only. Already Decided to Get This Supplement? Good News>>> Official Steel Bite Pro Website<<< Is Steel Bite Pro FDA approved? 

The FDA does not certify dietary supplement products, such as Steel Bite Pro. However, Steel Bite Pro is manufactured in an FDA registered facility that follows GMP (Good Manufacturing Practice) guidelines. And the Steel Bite Pro Manufactured in USA. 

Is Steel Bite Pro a good product? 

Steel Bite Pro has been taken by thousands of folks with no reported side effects. Unlike toxic medications, everything inside Steel Bite Pro is natural. You might experience some nights where you don’t want to go to sleep when your energy levels soar through the roof! And you might have friends pestering you and asking what you’ve been up to look so goodbut we trust those are minor annoyances. 

Is Steel Bite Pro safe? 

There are no negative side effects to worry about. Everything is 100% natural and safe.

Is Steel Bite Pro GMP Certified? 

Yes, the Steel Bite Pro manufacturer in an FDA registered facility that follows GMP (Good Manufacturing Practice) guidelines. 

Can you buy Steel Bite Pro at Walmart or Amazon? 

Not at all and will never be available on their store. Recently, they were caught with over 4000 tainted, unsafe and cheap supplements and vitamins. Most of them from China. You deserve better than that and why you can only get Steel Bite Pro here. It’s the only way we can ensure quality remains the same throughout the entire process. 

What are the ingredients in Steel Bite Pro? 

The Ingredients are 100% natural and Safe. And read above mentioned list of the ingredients included in this Steel Bite Pro supplement 

Why this Steel Bite Pro not available in stores?

As per Creator stringent quality standards, They can’t ensure product quantities demanded by the Walmarts and Targets of the world. In fact, we supply just enough for our direct customers ONLY. That’s why it pays to select the multi-bottle options, so you never worry about running out. 

Is everything made in the USA? 

Yes. Steel Bite Pro is formulated and shipped to you within the United States of America.

How do I use Steel Bite Pro? 

Just 1 small capsule in in the morning and you’re all set. 

Is Steel Bite Pro safe for diabetics? 

Yes, you can take this supplement every day after the morning meal. 

What if this doesn’t work for me? 

With literally billions of people on the planet, there will be some this doesn’t work for. That’s even the case with most prescription drugs. So if you do happen to be in the minority on this and it doesn’t work for you, remember, you’re protected by a rock-solid 60-Day Money-Back Guarantee. Just call us up or send us an email. Tell us it didn’t work, send the bottles back and you’ll be guaranteed a prompt refund. No questions and no hassles. Read the Real Customer Feedback and testimonials of Steel Bite Pro Here 

Pricing: 

1-month supply cost $69 only with free shipping. 

3-month supply cost $177 with free shipping. ($59 each) 

6-month supply cost $294 with free shipping. ($49 each) 

Final words: 

The Steel Bite Pro supplement is the best supplement if you are the one searching for the solution for treating your teeth and gum related problems in a natural way. The thousands of positive feedbacks from the users provides you the confidence about the results of the supplement. SO, what for you waiting? Get the supplement now before the offer ends. And one more thing 

You have an amazing benefit to use this 100% money back guarantee for the first 60 days of your purchase. If you aren’t satisfied or not benefited by the product, then you can claim your 100% refund immediately. With a 100% money-back guarantee policy, the supplements are definitely worth a try!

Click To Order Now 

[thessalian]

Thess vs Veganism

There was a thing in the Guardian a couple of days ago about, “Why do people hate vegans so much?” It was a very vegan-friendly article ... or rather, it was an article that called all people who don’t go with the vegan diet unreasonable for having issues with vegans. My issue becomes that, as with most articles of its type these days, it is dealing with a very vocal minority rather than getting to the core of the matter. I have a feeling I’m more on the scale of the average non-vegan than those the article was yelling at for being unreasonable to the poor, poor vegans - basically, “I don’t care what you eat; just please don’t give me grief over what I eat”.

Yes, I understand that there are significant issues with sustainability of a meat-based diet and that veganism is, in principle, better for the planet. Thing is ... I can’t be vegan. Hell, I can barely be vegetarian. It’s not as if I haven’t tried. Because I have. My school in the UK was strictly vegetarian, and I spent much of my two years there dating a guy whose family was Hindu and strictly vegetarian. The sleepaway camp I went to during the summer served vegetarian meals as an option all the time and as the only option several times a week. And you know what? I didn’t cope well on the diet.

Part of the problem in my case is lactose intolerance. Yes, with a strictly vegan diet there isn’t any milk product to deal with, but this is why vegetarianism is an issue for me. I can’t have cheese without a terrible lot of pill-related help, and even then it’s not 100%. Pizza is one of those things that I have to actively prep for. I have a hard time going out to eat except under fairly strict circumstances because so much food here involves cheese unless you’re going for, say, Chinese or Indian (which itself tends to involve a lot of yoghurt, so I still have to be careful).

There’s also the fact that I default to mildly anaemic. I take vitamin supplements and it’s still not sufficient. Without a goodly amount of red meat intake, I would have to live nearly entirely on spinach in order to get the amount of iron I need and ... put it this way; there are some issues with digestion and elimination if you eat a lot of spinach, particularly if you’re me and have a symptomatic hiatus hernia that makes digestion an adventure at the best of times. There are iron-rich pulses and the like that help, and I have looked into those, but I’d end up needing quantities that I was not designed to intake. Even with all of that ... I don’t know what it is about my body chemistry, but I tend to struggle without some kind of meat-based protein in my diet. Doesn’t matter if it’s fish or chicken or what, but not even eggs quite do it. I spent a week eating lentil-stuffed peppers, Quorn bolognaise, tofu stir fry, and a lot of peanut-butter sandwiches. I felt awful afterwards; weak and draggy and kind of weird. I didn’t normal out until I got a burger down me, and that’s despite the fact that everything I was eating should have provided the nutritional essentials.

Oh, hey, and how about the bit where fresh veg and all the other organic stuff that makes up a purely vegan diet is way too fucking expensive for someone on my pay scale? Or the bit where everyone extolling the virtues of quinoa conveniently ignore the bit where the amount of money growers make on quinoa means they sell all of it at inflated prices and deny the people who actually harvest it the chance to eat what they grew, instead relying on the cheap processed stuff produced in the places buying the arguably healthier stuff? How we’re happy to trash other people’s economy and health so long as we get to eat virtuously and then complain about how other people are destroying the world with their hamburgers and ribeyes and roast chickens?

I get sustainability. I really do. I do want to live on a planet that’s not about to catch fire. I wish I could embrace the vegan diet. However, I can’t. I have tried and I have suffered under it. I don’t know what it was I wasn’t getting enough of, but I wasn’t, and it was unfortunate. Vegan eating isn’t anywhere near as virtuous as some very outspoken vegans would have us believe, and it is frustrating as hell to be lambasted for destroying the planet when I am in no position, whether from the standpoint of my health or from that of my budget, to adopt a vegan or even vegetarian diet.

Translation - I have no problem with vegans. What other people eat is their business. I just wish the more vocal of them would stop calling me selfish and evil for following a diet that actually keeps me as healthy as my lifestyle allows. So ... why do I ‘hate vegans so much’? I don’t; I just take significant issue with the ones who hate me. I’d rather not feel like I have to suffer and die to conform to other people’s views of how things are supposed to be. I had enough of that in grade school ... and high school, for that matter.

Some people can’t be vegan. We need to find another way, not pillory people whose dietary requirements are that specific.

[rahabs]

so I’ve eaten chicken hearts before, but the other day I picked some up at the local organic market on a whim because I’d read somewhere that they’re high in iron (and also cheap) and I’m anaemic/borderline anaemic (it takes prenatals and blood-builder pills just for me to maintain a relatively normal-low hemoglobin level of 132), and tonight I cooked them myself for the first time and!  oh my gosh, they are delicious, and I am a total convert!  I marinated them with olive oil, some mediterranean-spiced vinegar, and some basic spices, then pan-fried them on my (new--thanks, Homesense, for the low low prices) Gordon Ramsay pan, and then served them with cauliflower rice (mixed with sweet potatoes) and added a bit more salt.  it was so good!  I will definitely be going back for more, and hearts are so much better for my budget.  I also picked up some liver.  I’m not as big on liver, but I can easily stir-fry it and mix it in with other things, and liver also has a high iron content, so it’s good for me!  I’m very happy that this turned out so well!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Spring

[PART TWO OF AUTUMN]

NCT Jaehyun x Reader & Jungwoo x Reader Characters: Jung Jaehyun, Kim Jungwoo, OlderBrother!Johnny Seo, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten), & mentions of Lee Taeyong Summary: Running away from your problems never helped anything, esspecially if it can come back and haunt you.   Warnings: Infidelity, unhappy marriage, bad relationships, angst, typos prolly, unanswered questions, don't ask for part 3 cos i wont make it lolol, etc. Words: 5k+

A/N: this is prolly NOT what yall wanted HAHAHHAHAHAHA kinda not sorry but this is what yall get. Hello, i hope you enjoy @justacinnamonroll-lover

NO MORE PART 3. THIS IS THE END. BYE. HUHUUH

---

"Hear me out though!” I chuckled as Johnny pulled a pained, slightly amused face. “Listen, I don’t care if you already bought two sky diving tickets! I’ll say it cleary, I am afraid of heights, there is no way I’m doing that.”

I chuckled at this ironically tall buffoon and tread after him and his long legs, “But oppppppppaaaa, remember, you loooove me.”

My older brother made a sound, “Die with your love.”

I pulled my head back and chuckled, “Wow, okay, violent, uhmmmmm.”

Johnny laughed and slowed his paces down. He turned to me and huffed, I nudged him on his shoulder. “Oh, come on, you know you want to.”

“We’ll see how much I want to after you buy my lunch,” Johnny spoke.

“Ooooh, bribery,” I grinned and fiddled with my fingers, “I’m down. What did you want?”

“Oh, no, no, no, the key is finding something that I want, then, then we talk.”

I laughed at the challenge proposed by my brother. “Okay, deal.” I outstretched my arm and we shook hands.

The two of us then strut down the large lobby of this hundred floor building our father owned, ready to head on out for some grub. 

At this point in time, Johnny was about to become the CEO... but we all know he doesn’t because of his car crash...

“Mr. Seo,” a voice called from a far corner. Then there emerged a man in a suit similar to my brother. He had a milky white complexion and bright eyes. When he flashed a smile, my heart skipped and my lips mimicked.

Johnny slowed down not one bit and it made it clear to me that this man was simply an underdog looking to buy some of his time. And so I caught my brother’s arm and raised my brows. He turned to me and did the same. I then shrugged and pursed my lips.

Lucky for the man though, he caught up with us before we could exit.

He airily called for my brother again, and this point, Johnny finally noticed him, or rather, finally stopped ignoring him.

“Name?” Johnny blurted, turning to the dimpled man who smiled brightly in relief.

“Jung Jaehyun,” he nodded, “we spoke on the phone, about the expansion.”

For a moment, Johnny looked clueless, up until a light bulb flashed over his head. He begins to chuckle, “Ahhhh, I remember.” Johnny chuckles, “You have such a shocking proposal, Mr. Jung.”

Mr. Jung faintly smiles, “May I offer you to talk about this matter over some lunch?”

“Ah, it’s not me you should entice,” Johnny turned to me, “but who I already have plans with.”

My brows quirked up at Johnny’s words and the man turns to me. I purse my lips and hold out a hand for him to shake, introducing myself.

“Ah, Mrs. Seo--”

“Ani. Ms., Ms. Seo, his sister.” I corrected. Johnny looked at me, a grin forming on his lips. He knew full well my selfishness with his work and how I would readily reject this man. I cleared my throat, “What you want to talk about must be important, but... I have not met with my brother in months, so please  understand.”

Mr. Jung’s jaw slacks, “Ah... ye. I’m sorry. Surely family comes first before work matters. I mean, we work for our family, right?”

My lips curve into a smile at his words and Johnny pats his shoulder, mumbling something about calling him later. As my brother and I make our way to his car, I turn to Johnny fondly, “He’s nice. I like him. Make sure to really call him, oppa.”

Johnny whipped his head to look in my direction, as if I just stole a year of his life, “Ya! What do you mean you like him?”

I rolled my eyes and got into his car. He followed. “I just like the fact he has filial piety.”

Johnny scoffs, “You think he’s cute?”

I chuckle, “Yes, but I think you’re cute too.” I tease, moving to pinch his cheeks. He scolds me in annoyance and starts his car after securing his seat belt. I fasten mine as well.

“Stay away from him,” he says lowly, “I won’t approve.”

I chuckle, “Ye, ye.”

---*

"That's how you met your husband?" Ten scoffed at the story I spoke. His wife however had the exact different reaction.

"No, no, no, don't tell me. After that you end up meeting at some some coffee shop near your brother's building and end up having lunch together." Ten says with a sour expression as he feeds his daughter some more baby food.

His wife clicks his tongue at him and Ten shrugs.

A small hand tugs on my shirt, "Can I mwake moor chowate sanwishes?" my son asks, chocolate spread marking his chin and cheeks. I chuckle at him and nod, picking up a tissue and wiping his face.

"What about Jungwoo? How’d ya meet him?" the woman asked, placing a watermelon in her mouth.

"I already told you how I met him, babe." I spoke, making Ten snap at me because of the pet name. I laughed at his cutely jealous reaction.

"Oh, ye, ye." the woman nodded. She clapped her hands. "How did you end up together then? With Jaehyun, I mean."

I breathed in deeply, turning to the blue sky above me. 

Honestly, I am so thankful that I the world allowed me to have these two as my landlord. If they hadn't been here with me all this time, I would've probably caved and gone crazy.

I turned to my baby boy, happily sitting on a picnic mat, victoriously munching on the slices of bread he assembled, looking out to the fields of green grass before him. He doesn't deserve that kind of pain, having a mad mother.

"It was at an auction. Jaehyun bought the painting I wanted at an unimaginably high price." I spoke. 

Ten clicked his tongue. "What a waste of money."

His wife gave him another look.

"Honestly, I agree," I offered, "he tried to be romantic by buying it then giving it to me, obviously in exchange for a date. But all I thought of him was haughty at that point. I only agreed because, well, I was getting such a beautiful painting at such a cheap price."

"Pah, it still worked though," Ten pointed, "you ended up marrying him anyway."

"Yes, but obviously, it wasn't the painting!" the woman yet again scolded his husband.

I chuckled, "It's not."

---*

"You're as impressive as you are beautiful," the man spoke smoothly, dimples showing. I broke into a bubbly laugh, "Wahhh, that's not very much. But I'm sure it worked on all the ladies."

We continued walking on the damp sidewalk; the rain that has passed made it glisten, similar to the stars out at this moment. I slightly jump as a few raindrops fall on my head as we pass a tree. The man beside me laughs.

"Wow,” I turn to the man who chuckled at me, “how gentlemanly of you, Jung Jaehyun."

"No," he speaks firmly, grabbing my wrist. I look at him, heart fluttering, not caring as to why his reply was such, and confusing. Jaehyun smiles widely, "you are beautiful, Ms. Seo."

My breath gets caught in my throat. 

"Are you afraid of calling me by my name?" I speak lowly. 

It'd been nearly a month since the day he bribed me out on a date, and I was drastically slipping on this slippery slope to his heart. Yet, he has never called me anything but miss Seo. It slightly worries me.

"I am not afraid of anything," he says and I want to scoff but he continues, "except maybe losing what we have made in this month..." Jaehyun trails off. My hear pounds when he ends his words by speaking my name.

"Mr. Jung," a foreign voice calls for far behind me. I turn around and see that there was an old man that came out from Jaehyun's building, the one we were currently in front of.

I move to pull my hand away from Jaehyun's, but he tightens his grip which lands on my palms. I turn from his fingers to his eyes, his expression was no longer the same. He gently pulls me behind him.

"It's late Mr. Moon, you should be at home," Jaehyun speaks clearly.

The said man clears his throat and moves closer to us, "The vice president said you went home."

"Taeyong wasn't lying," he said, voice mixed with annoyance and slight anger, "I am on my way."

I wasn't the only one who noticed this. Mr. Moon lets out a sigh, "Mr. Jung, please rethink their offer--" "I already told you what I think about their lowly offer." Jaehyun scoffs. "Don't speak to me again outside my office."

With that, Jaehyun stormed away, pulling me along with him.

He brought me to his car and I sat in the front seat. I turned to Jaehyun as he started his Lambourghini, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?"

I was taken aback by the sudden pet name he used. My breath hitched and it was audible enough that he turned to me. Jaehyun smiled.

"Act cold to everyone?"

He placed one hand on the wheel and another on the gear stick. He released a chuckle, "Don't you think that it's the other way around?"

---*

"Jungwoo!" Ten's wife spoke, "tell me about him."

"Ya, you are so nosy." Ten scolded this time around.

"Wae! I can ask what I want!" she raised her voice then turned to me, "but you only have to answer the same way.” 

I chuckled at her expression and it was then that her baby started giggling at the faces her father was pulling.

"He was my happy pill. He brightened my day whenever I felt like I was on the brink."

---*

"I fucking told you, Jungwoo," I snarled, shoving him away, "I don't want to fucking go ice skating."

Why couldn't he take a hint? I didn't even want to see him today because I had seen Jaehyun being flirted with by some young woman in his office. I was bringing him lunch, but all that went into the trash, literally, I dumped it in the trash.

Now I was in a horrible mood.

Jungwoo called me and said he wanted to take me somewhere. I refused, telling him why, but he insisted, saying he could cheer me up. And now just as I knew I would, I was now taking out my anger on him.

I expect him to lash out on me at this point, but instead he chuckled and cooed, "Ah, baby, you're so cute when you're angry." Jungwoo took my hand and pulled me with me, "Kaja, the rink awaits."

The next thing I knew, I was on the ice, latching on Jungwoo for dear life, "Ah, you didn't tell me you sucked at ice skating."

I growled, "Why do you think I didn't wan to fu--" "Ah, ah, ah," Jungwoo pulled way from me, "You want me to pull away?"

"No, you asshat!" I called, gripping him tighter.

"But I will if you don't clean your potty mouth."

I huffed but complied, "Please don't let me go."

Jungwoo blinked rapidly, lips twitching, breath hitching. "Please, what?"

My brows knit quizzically, "Please... sir?"

Jungwoo threw his head back and pulled me slowly into his arms, "Baby," he spoke airily, peering down at me, "I'm not that kinky." 

He smiled, and pushed hair behind my ear. He then caressed my cheeks and licked his lips, "Jungwoo. Kim Jungwoo. Remember my name."

---*

"Okay, come on," Ten said, carrying Autumn in his arms, "Time to go home."

I turned to my son who was tumbling in the grass nearby and called him. "Come on. Picnic time is over!"

He turned to me smiling widely, "I had swo mwuch fun! Can we pwicnwic toime again?"

I walked over to him and brought him into my arms. "Of course baby, anything for you."

"Can we bwing appa next toime?"

I froze where I stood and turned to my child. He looked at me with his big eyes and my heart started to hurt.

"Maybe."

He took my words gleefully.

After cleaning up, we went into the car, and drove back home, to our noodle place.

"Oh, look, it's only eight am! It looks like we have to won't open late today." the woman in the front seat beamed. "Ah, I'm excited to cook some ramyeon."

"Darling, you always cook ramyeon. Everyday, to be exact."

"Yes, but why would I tire if it's something I love to do?"

---*

"Tell me, why would I get tired of helping you?" Jungwoo muttered softly, crushing me against his chest. I poured my tears out against his shirt, feeling my neck get pressed on by guilt.

"I'm crying to you over another man, my husband, your rival."

Jungwoo stayed silent for a moment, and at this point, I felt scared, that maybe he realized the weight of my words and would pull away. And when he did, I started to shiver. He spoke my name and I looked up at him.

"Why would I tire of you when I am so helplessly in love with you?"

My heart stopped for a second and then beat like a hummingbird.

Jungwoo wiped a tear rolling on my cheek and looked at me in the soft expression he always did. He let out a soft chuckle and examined my face, "I have seen you at your worst, when you're red in the face, puffy eyed, and runny nosed."

I turned away from him and attempted to turn away. He held me in place and took my chin, moving my head to look at his. Tears welled in my eyes at the sight of his sweet smile.

"Jungwoo--"

"Don't say anything if you're trying to change my mind." he said. "Whatever it is you are facing, I will be here to face with you. And in the same way, I hope to face every other thing you will in the future."

---*

When we arrived at the shop, I helped my son get down from the car. He hopped off cheerfully and turned to me with a smile. I smiled back at him. He moved to go inside, up until he stopped and shouted, "Appa!"

My heart dropped.

The boy ran off inside and I quickly followed after. I called his name as he rushed inside. And just as the boy said, there stood a man there, face wet with tears, eye red.

The boy ran to him and wrapped his arms around his legs, "Appa! Did you cwome for pwicnwic toime?"

The man looked down at the child and I gulped, "What are you doing here?"

"I-" his voice cracked and then he crouched down to the floor, looking the boy in the eyes. The younger version of the that teary eyed, suit clad man, smiled and introduced himself. He then raised his small hands and wiped away the tears streaming down from his face. "Do you haw a booboo?"

The older man let out a chuckle and turned away from the boy, standing up.

"Is he... mine?"

"Of course he is. Would I lie to my own son?"

The man took a step back and knit his brows, "How do you know?

"The same way you're here. It's in your bones... you feel it." I spoke. The boy pouted and tugged the man's jacket, "I can help wiv booboos."

The small person was unmistakenly his, even if he couldn't believe my words. Anyone can see that my son had his father's eyes, nose, and lips.

"If you had known, why did you leave?" he said, voice slightly angry. "Why didn't you go to me?" he added, softly.

"I didn't know I was pregnant, until I was already so far out of reach. And when I did, I figured you don't deserve the trouble."

"Trouble?! He's my son!" he raised his voice. "He's the son of the woman I love... how... how could you think that?"

"I also figured," a tear fell from my eyes, "that if it wasn't trouble, you'd find us, because that's who you are... and I have never stopped loving you."

[caffeineivore]

Candy

Prompter: Adrianna Sharp

Ship: R/J

Rating: R

Warnings for angst and drug use.

**

The lights in the club flash, psychedelic-- enthralling and terrifying as siren song, and the punchy beat of the pulsing music race almost in tandem to his speeding heart. The warehouse is packed with sweaty bodies, lit with strobe lights and the faint, thready circles of countless glowsticks (broken and bent into beautiful flashes of evanescent life), and Jay switches from cheap vodka to water as the little red pill takes effect, bringing with it a flush of heat and arousal. He splashes the rest of the Aquafina over his hair, enjoying the sensation of it sluicing down his torso, and weaves through the throng, hands landing on the hips of a dark-haired girl whose eyes are the wrong colour-- they’re as black as his right now, but who knows? maybe tomorrow they’d be a rare and unforgettable shade of blue-violet like Potassium chloride thrown into a campfire-- and grinds. She’s high, too, and doesn’t mind, and her skirt is some soft, silky material which feels amazing under his fingertips. 

He doesn’t ask her for her name, but joins her later when she goes to a slightly quieter corner of the warehouse, where a handful of cheap pleather chairs and formica tables are scattered for the ravers to rest for a moment-- if they can. The girl unapologetically digs a baggie out of her bra and dumps it onto the dirty little table, clumsily scraping it into a line with a credit card before snorting it. Jay hasn’t done coke in a long time, but then again, he has another half-dozen Molly’s in a yellow prescription bottle in the pocket of his jeans, along with a few Xannies helpfully donated for the fair asking price of a few crumpled bills from a friend of a friend whose mother had anxiety attacks and didn’t keep too close an eye on her stock. They’d be useful later, to come down, so that he could eventually go to sleep lest he dance his literal life away, but Jay was used to avoiding sleep. The dreams of a hallucinogen-fractured mind were vivid and oftentimes terrifying, and then again, he’d be cursed with seeing her, more likely than not. He has no idea who she is. He thinks, maybe, that he’s gone crazy, and maybe he should be the one getting a pill script. 

It had started maybe four years ago when he’d woken up in a hospital somewhere in Japan, with absolutely no idea of how the fuck he’d gotten there-- all the way across the whole freaking world. No memories of the country whatsoever, thousands of miles away from the skate parks and alleys of the south side that had been his stomping grounds. Between a number of charitable institutions and a bit of panhandling, he’d managed to get a one-way ticket back to the US, but that was about it. He roamed between homeless shelters and odd jobs and the couches and basements of strangers and casual friends, and the pills came with the territory-- it was a lot easier to stay awake, and staying awake was vital to keep clear of the cops, to juggle the multiple grimy dead-end jobs and gigs that all paid little money for back-breaking work. 

He doesn’t know who it is that haunts his waking and sleeping moments, with a sheaf of raven hair and candy-red stilettos, a malevolent violet-eyed femme fatale surrounded by a halo of hellfire intent on ending his very existence. He feels that heat sometimes when he’s left with a bad batch or takes it too far-- his very skin feels like it’s about to catch fire and burn like a tenement torched for insurance money-- and it’s terrifying and thrilling in equal measure. He’s some sort of sick fuck, he thinks, for liking this. But that flare of feverish heat feels like a soul-stealing kiss, and more than once he’d waken from those fire-and-blood-red dreams hard as iron with no chance for respite. 

The dark-haired girl pulls him back onto the dance floor as another song starts up, pulsing electronica and synth-beats, and when she pulls him in for a kiss, he doesn’t resist. Maybe he’ll get lucky later. There’s generally a fifty-fifty chance of that, dancing the night away in places such as these. Always a girl with hair like a black oil-slick, lips painted candy-red, leaving all sorts of interesting blood-like smudges on his clothes and body as their bodies undulated in the dark. It’s about as effective as putting a bandaid on a broken leg, but any little scrap of relief helps. 

He’s scared that he’ll meet her, for real, someday. Jay doesn’t even know who he is for real-- if that name, a vague memory from some foggy distant past-- is short for James, or Jason, or Jacob, or something different altogether-- but he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if he does meet the girl with the violet eyes and the hellfire hair and mouth, that his life will end. But he can’t help but seek her out, that incredible face with those ultramarine violet eyes, and really, he’s dying a little bit every day, the drugs wreaking havoc on his health, not-sleeping in drafty little rooms with one eye always cracked open, and who knows? Maybe someday, he’ll meet her again, and finally, finally remember.

He’ll be able to rest in peace then, and it will feel like fucking bliss. 

[puttingfingerstokeys]

[untitled]

Nanowrimo 2019 day 9  Featuring Leon Kennedy and Ricardo Irving Horror? ish? Resident Evil, alternate universe where Wesker picks Leon up instead of the US Government Unfinished and unedited

The contact was scheduled to arrive at the designated site—a predictably empty warehouse on the coast of a west African town called Kijuju—at six PM. As such, Leon Kennedy had arrived much earlier, set up his contingent of plainclothes and otherwise hidden men around the place in strategic locations, always assuming the so-called deal would go south. This was more of a recruitment mission anyway and, depending on the level of subterfuge and deception, this Ricardo Irving fellow would be a prime candidate for the position of VP of sales for Tricell, Africa. Irving, a black market drug or weapon (Leon was unsure which, though it had assuredly been in his file) dealer, knew none of this—neither the identity of his buyer, or any other affiliation was known to him, though Wesker had specifically instructed a trail of Umbrella-flavored bread crumbs to be left here and there to draw such a man in. This much had worked, though Leon suspected that Irving was too clever by half to fall hook, line, or sinker for the ruse.

It didn’t matter either way. They would get what they wanted. He was selling good product on behalf of a much more (ironically) well-known black market dealer who went under the moniker “Forrest Mars”. Leon was sharp of mind and absolutely of the opinion that it was a pseudonym of some kind, but neither he nor Wesker had been able to ascertain Forrest Mars’s true identity, so he supposed that, in the end, it was not so foolish after all. Sniping the competition’s best dealers was part of the bait to draw Mars out into the open. His name was known, but other than that, no one seemed to know anything. Through dubiously-supplied intel (Leon knew Ada Wong was at the other end of this little con), they had at least gathered the names of his top dealers. Ricardo Irving was priority one, as he seemed to be the most influential, if not the closest.

Leon paced, considering the choice. Irving was influential, meaning he made money. Making money was advantageous in its own way, but the fervor with which Irving moved his product told Leon something else: he was greedy. Greedy men could always be bought. Leon leaned against an abandoned vehicle which looked as if it had been put up on blocks when Leon was still in diapers. The rust scraped viciously against his battle suit, but did not so much as scuff the dark blue material. Leon didn’t dislike the tight getup, but he thought it was probably unnecessary for this deal. His sex appeal would not likely work on Irving, whose profile proclaimed him to be a prolific heterosexual.

“Should’ve sent Excella,” he rumbled, arms crossed over his chest. Of course he knew damn well why Wesker had not sent her. She was far too high profile. Her name and face (and breasts) were known. Still, he thought, she would have made a hell of a deal with this Irving bozo. Leon had not been impressed with the man’s psych profile. He was arrogant, greedy, and slimy as all hell, a Brooklynite if Leon had ever seen one—possibly Atlantic City. Not exactly a wholesome person himself, Leon felt he was a decent judge of these kinds of things. He sneered at his watch, deciding that if the guy didn’t show in five minutes—it was already ten after six—he would give Irving a welcome he wouldn’t forget and extract Forrest Mars’s information the fun way.

Just as he engaged his commlink to inform his team of this plan, they buzzed him. “Echo zero-one, this is Echo three-one, we have visual on the mark.”

“Solid copy,” Leon returned. “Echo zero-one maintaining radio silence for the duration. Don’t move without my signal, copy?”

“Copy. Over.”

The radios went silent and Leon shifted so that he looked as if he had been waiting far longer than he actually had. Setting Irving on edge right off the bat might make for a friendlier negotiation. If not, well Leon had no problem getting rough. Irving was dealing something Wesker needed—Leon was not paid to ask or to care—and he would get it for the man at whatever price he specified, not Irving. Leon thought that if Irving knew precisely with whom he was dealing, he might play nice, but that was never guaranteed either. Sharp as his mind was, he disliked this kind of shady negotiation crap. He was a field agent, much better with a firearm in his hand—not that he was currently unarmed; far from it—than a briefcase full of cash.

Presently, a small convoy of SUVs pulled up in front of the warehouse where Leon stood, leaning against the old vehicle up on blocks. He watched them but did not move, seeming more interested in the scenery than this obvious show of muscle and force. Maybe Irving did have an idea who his contact might be—or maybe his boss did. Leon’s steely blue eyes only moved from the scenery of the docks to the convoy when a short, skinny man hopped out of the middle vehicle. He wore a cheap-looking suit that was probably exceedingly expensive with a clashing orange button-down underneath the blazer. This, Leon thought, was intentional, either purely a fashion choice or, more likely, to give the impression of nigh-incompetence. Leon assumed it was the former, because he could not have been convinced of the latter now that he had seen the firepower Irving’s goons were packing.

Arms deal, then, not drugs, he thought to himself. Of course, why would Albert Wesker, of all people, need drugs? Tricell was the world’s foremost manufacturer of everything from ibuprofen to chemotherapy pills. It was irrelevant, however. No matter what Irving was dealing or carrying, Leon and his men would walk away with it and either Irving himself or, failing that, information on his employer. It was a win-win. Patience was a virtue, but Leon had never considered himself particularly virtuous and he was tired of waiting for this “win”. He caught movement on a nearby rooftop out of the corner of one eye, but betrayed nothing. The flash of a scope would set off Irving’s guards for sure, but this sniper had positioned himself with his back to the sinking sun.

“You’re late,” he pointed out, opting to break the ice and take control of the conversation. Leon pushed off the truck and moved forward, not extending his hand, but giving Irving and his men a full look at him, showing he was unarmed. Irving eyed him up and down, but did not appear to be searching for armaments of any kind. In fact, Irving’s ravenous gaze actually settled upon Leon’s chest, which was tastefully exposed. He had been instructed to give the impression that the battle suit was warm in this vicious, African heat, and that he had done what any uncomfortably hot person might have: unzipped. That he was also instructed to “forget” he had done so was just another part of his job.

“Traffic was murder,” responded Irving, not taking his eyes off Leon’s ample chest. Leon himself made a mental note to scratch out “prolific heterosexual” from Irving’s profile and replace it with “opportunistic”. He was not entirely sure of this yet, but most men did not eye his assets that way.

“Yeah, they’re real,” Leon said, stopping so that there was little more than five feet between the two of them and resting his weight on one foot. “My eyes are up here, big guy. What’ve you got?”

“Y’mean you don’t know?” Irving sounded incredulous. He was far too shameless and slimy to blush however and took his sweet time letting his eyes wander up to Leon’s. When they met, Irving suddenly wished he had not. He had seen eyes like that before, bombardier’s eyes, gunslinger’s eyes. This guy’s playin’ for the wrong team, he thought shrilly. He looks like one of those goddamn war hero types, but not the General so-and-sos, more like a fuckin’ black ops dudes. He checked his gaze from then on, wondering just how close he was to the truth. Leon wasn’t telling.

“I don’t get paid to ask questions, Irving,” responded Leon evenly, as if this was the simplest piece of knowledge, the easiest fact to grasp in all the world. “I’m a middle man, that’s all.”

Leon Kennedy was not, in fact, a middle man. After Raccoon City, the US government had picked him up and introduced him to the anti-Umbrella initiative, a small group of special operatives and the government officials who had volunteered to back them up, seeking to root out everything even vaguely resembling the perpetrator of the Raccoon City tragedy. They had given him special training, enrolled him with the CIA, sent him to the SEALs with no explanation to his commanding officers, and then, when the training was done, had sent him into the field. Operation Javier was his first foray and he had been partnered with a man named Jack Krauser. He had been fond of Leon, for some reason, and the two had gotten along strangely well, given their differing backgrounds. Leon’s experience with the undead paired well, it turned out, with Krauser’s days in the Rangers.

It was, ironically, this first exercise of trust that made Leon lose faith in the US government. He used the skills they had given him to disappear soon after returning, heeding the call of a mysterious woman in red who had appeared in 1998, in Raccoon, and had dogged his steps ever since, seeking to recruit him for “something greater”. At the end of that rainbow had been Albert Wesker, an Umbrella employee himself and the former STARS captain. Once the initial shock wore off, Wesker pled his case and Leon… had been swayed. “Umbrella made a mistake,” Wesker had said, “one which I will not repeat.”

Now, in 2009, Leon stood, making deals and scouting new recruits for Wesker, much like what Ada had done to him. She had long since defected, but still threw intel their way from time to time, keeping one step ahead only by Wesker’s good graces. Should he send Leon after her… Leon was grateful he did not. It was hardly a question of fondness; she had done nothing but play with him from the start, but rather a sick fascination with someone so much like him, yet so utterly different. She was quick and clever and devilishly devious. Did he admire this? Maybe a little. Leon’s tactics tended to be much more forthright, in the field at least. He and Jack Krauser had crossed blades, for example, multiple times since he had expatriated, though Leon was sure the man had died in Spain in 2003—regardless, their encounters had always been deliberate one-on-one tests of strength and cunning. He missed that. He did not miss Ada. Her intel was good, but her methods were undesirable at best. Still, whether he wanted it or not, the fascination remained.

“The goods’re back here; where’s the cash?” Irving was right down to business now. Leon had felt the shift when the man looked into his eyes. Good, he thought, get this ball rolling. His instructions had also included swiftness, as the BSAA had been seen sniffing around Kijuju recently. The last thing Leon needed was an encounter with that upstanding organization’s golden boy, Chris Redfield. He had survived with two other people in Raccoon, a girl named Sherry Birkin, and a woman named Claire… Claire Redfield. She was, in fact, Chris’s younger sister and for some reason, seeing her brother would have, he was sure, incite some strange feelings of regret, remorse, and/or guilt. He wanted none of those. He had no time for those. This was business. The US government had failed him, had failed them all—they had been the ones to cover up Umbrella’s “mistake”. Albert Wesker had not failed him once. It was to that man he owed his life and sense of purpose. It was not simple, but it was good enough for Leon. Why complicate things further?

[urinebrand-blog]

The Complete Guide to Acing a Drug Test

One of the most feared things these days is random drug tests. Most companies conduct pre-employment tests, and some conduct random tests while you’re on the job.

With the legalization of marijuana, most of us prefer to wind-out with a joint every now and then. But, THC molecules stay for quite some time in your system. The density, however, depends on your usage.

Here’s the thing - It is going to take a long time for everything to “come out in the wash.” Even in states where it is legal, an employer still has the right to fire you for using if you fail the test. A more enlightened boss may look the other way.

There are tons and dozens of ideas being dumped on Internet forums. Everyone seems to be an expert in passing drug tests. Don't believe people on almost 95% of what anyone says because that will cause you to fail quicker than anything.

Some of these ideas that people give you can actually make the test work even better because it will put more of the chemicals that THC leaves behind in your system making the test find it a lot easier such as exercise/drinking certain Types of drinks.

Types of Drug Tests

The most common drug tests used are urine, saliva and hair. Each test has a different detection time which is important to know. The urine drug test is the most commonly used because it is cheap and has a longer detection time than a saliva test. There are several very important factors that can influence how long THC will be present in your urine:

· Weight

· Body Fat

· Amount Used

· Frequency of Use

Since these factors will vary greatly for each individual, there are no definitive guidelines to tell you how long you can test positive for THC.

On a Urine Drug Test, THC will appear as a positive within 2-5 hours of use. How long it will still show on a urine drug test is estimated based on frequency of use, but does not take into account the weight and body fat of the marijuana user:

· One Time User may show positive for 1-6 days

· Moderate User may show positive for 7-13 days

· Frequent User may show positive for 15 or more days

· Heavy User may show positive for 30 or more days

· Some Heavy Pot Smokers have reported being positive 45-90 days after quitting

On a Saliva Drug Test, THC will test positive within one hour of use, but may only show positive for about 12 hours after last use.

On a Hair Drug Test, THC will show up about 7 days after use and most hair drug tests will test for a 90-day period. However, THC does not always bind to the hair follicle which makes it not always considered an accurate testing method for marijuana use.

But, worry not! Listed below are 4 awesome products that can help you pass a drug test easily.

Synthetic Urine Reviews on Reddit

Synthetic urine will help you clear a drug test in most of the cases. But, you need to be very careful in choosing the right brand.

THC is fat soluble and stored in your fat cells. Cleaning it out of your body is not difficult, it just takes time. An overwhelming amount of products sold in head shops, health food stores and on the internet claim to clean out your system, yet they do nothing to remove THC byproducts from fat cells.

Be very careful! Look at the ingredients before you buy a detox product. You will find that the majority of them are comprised of mostly B-Complex vitamins, water and sugar.

Synthetic urine products are all pretty much the same, with minor differences such as ones are powdered and others are premixed. That being said, there is one major advantage that Sub-Solution has over all other synthetic urine kits - it comes with a vial that heats the urine up to body temperature (about 100 F). This is usually the reason why most of the people consider it the best synthetic urine.

When you buy synthetic urine, make sure to look out for the ingredients. The key concept is for it to be like normal urine in terms of Ph., odor, color, gravity, composition, and other normal urine features. Some of the most recommended brands are Quick Fix, Test Clear, and Sub Solution.

Best Detox Pills

Detox pills are another great way to get THC out of your system. They work wonders and are really effective in cleaning the molecules out of your system.

You need to boost the detox process by consuming detox pills. You can try detox pills that accelerate the process and help you get rid of THC sooner than expected.

If you are a moderate smoker, your body can naturally get rid of the toxins in 10 days (if you abstain from using), however with detox pills, you can achieve it in 5 days.

There are loads of options available in the market - some low-priced and some extremely costly. We recommend that you read detailed reviews before buying.

Some great brands that we recommend are Toxin Rid and Rescue 5-day detox.

Toxin Rid 10 Day detox

It comes with 150 pre-rid detox pills, and is considered to be the most complete and thorough detox pills available. If used as per recommendations, it can eliminate THC in less than 2 days.

Toxin Rid 10-Day detox contains Alfalfa leaf extracts, calcium carbonate, iron glycinate, magnesium oxide, kelp, low-sodium sea minerals, and many other essential chemicals.

Here’s how it works -

· Increased elimination via urine. Urine production and elimination are increased due to the presence of electrolytes and herbal remedies.

· Increased elimination via feces. The concentration of THC in feces is increased - that means that a lot more of THC leaves the body via feces excretion.

Learn more about Toxin Rid.

Detox Drinks for Drug Test

Detox drinks works well for light smokers. It doesn’t actually get rid of the toxins, but gives you a cover-up time to submit your sample for test. You can trust detox drinks for masking the metabolites for a few hours.

Get your hands on a quality product, based on user reviews and feedback, to get the most out of it.

Keep in mind that THC is highly fat soluble. This means that while liver is always working to get rid of it, some of the metabolites are ‘trapped’ in the fatty cells.

The longer you’ve stoned, the more times you take weed, its potency, and your rate of metabolism are some of the major factors that determine the number of THC metabolites that end up in your fat layers, and how fast your body is able to remove them.

[witchyphlossy]

Budget and Broom-Closeted Altar Ideas

So, as someone who is partially broom-closeted, and very much on a budget, let me share some tips I’ve learned with you. It’s sort of long, but I may come back and add more stuff to the list later. :)

1: Candles

White can be substituted for any color candle. Tea candles are super cheap and you can find them almost anywhere, and places like Walmart and the dollar store usually carry tea candles on various colors. My grocery store also carries white wax “emergency candles,” that have a long ass burn life. They’re more pricey but you have a logical reason to buy them (power outages) and you won’t have to buy them as often. Also, birthday candles can be used in a pinch as well. I especially like them for spells that require the candle to burn out entirely (I’m impatient), or for travel altars. You can also purchase candle making kits and claim you’ve developed a new hobby. Candle holders are super abundant at local thrift shops as well.

2: Incense

Not only does the dollar store typically carry some cheap incense and holders, but I noticed last night that my grocery store also carries incense and holders in their floral area! Also, in a pinch, a bowl or candle holder of pebbles or sand works really well for holding incense safely. If incense is too hard to explain, try scented candles, wax warmers, or oil diffusers. They’re all more expensive, but reasonably easy to explain. Also, something to think about: incense can also be found in gift sets with the holder, and sometimes boxes of incense (especially cone) will come with a holder. My box of Nag Champa cones came with a censor.

3: Crystals

So, this one really isn’t all that cheap or easily hidden to be honest (unless you buy a lot from Amazon). There’s some sellers on Amazon that sell bulk gemstone or crystal kits by the pound (either raw or tumbled), generally for less than $30 including shipping. It’s going to be a grab bag and you’re not going to be 100% sure what you’re getting, but it’s affordable as hell compared to buying crystals individually, and they work just as well. I managed to pass mine off as “just decoration,” by throwing them in a decorative glas bowl on my desk shelf. You can also explain having them by developing a new interest in jewelry making or geology, or by possibly putting them in the bottom of a vase of fake flowers. Bonus of keeping them in a bowl? Excellent impromptu incense holder!

4: Bowls, chalices, etc.

Again, this one can be sort of hard to explain. “Why do you have one wine glass?” “Real” chalices are fucking expensive (like I paid $16 for mine from a pagan website). The best place to purchase affordable glassware new is the dollar store. They also sometimes offer china/stoneware (like mugs, plates, etc) too, and usually in a variety of colors. Another place to look is local thrift stores. Frequently mismatched sets of things will be sold (like 5 wine glasses, or pairs). You can purchase the mismatched set and simply use four out of the five, or two out of three etc for kitchen ware, and the odd man out can become your chalice. The same goes for bowls. Single teacups are sold pretty often at thrift stores, and some of them are gorgeous. They can easily be used as offering bowls or chalices. Improvisation is one of the biggest gifts a witch can practice!

5: Bells.

Like chalices, bells can be pricey as hell. Thrift stores tend to carry decorative bells made of glass or porcelain, but..... breakage. Like those sorts of bells aren’t meant for daily ringing, if they’re meant to ring at all. I present to you an alternative: jingle bells. You can ge them extremely cheaply at craft stores, during Christmas in the form of ornaments, and my dollar store carries a children’s toy that’s essentially a Velcro band with jingle bells on it to be worn on the wrist. My first improv Bell was just a bunch of jingle bells wired together around a stick, like a handle. My current travel bell is just a Christmas jingle bell ornament on a ribbon loop. They make a gorgeous tinkling sound, and personally I find them more pleasing to the ear than “real” bells. I also have a friend who uses a triangle (like the instrument) rather than a bell, and I’ve heard of people using xylophones (like childrens toys), whistles, recorders/flutes, or wind chimes.

6: Cauldrons

Again, cauldrons are fucking expensive. Imo, you can’t beat a good cast iron cauldron with a lid. Unless you’re looking specifically for something small, a cast iron bean pot/dutch oven is the way to go. I found mine for $11 on Amazon, and it had prime shipping. Free shipping is great because cast iron is fucking expensive.

7: Color Magick

I can not recommend dyed hemp, yarn, ribbon, and embroidery floss enough. They’re reasonably priced (especially the floss), and so easy to find. I also keep a sewing kit with my travel altar for the thread and pins and such. Also, shop around your local thrift shops. Frequently you can find boxes of “sewing notions,” with thread and yarn and ribbon and such. I also use glass beads for color magick, and I’ve found some stuff like water buffalo teeth and gemstone and shell beads too. I’ve even found coral beads!

8: Herbs

You know what works just as well for magick as those herb packets you buy from pagan shops? Herbs from the grocery store. Not only do almost all stores carry an awesome selection of cooking herbs, but some carry more exotic spices in their international departments. I’ve also found some stuff in the tea aisle, like premixed herbs in herbal tea, straight chamomile, peppermint, etc. For travel altars or discreet storage, I purchased “pill towers,” which are essentially little plastic jars that screw together in a tower that are meant for medications. I bought mine at Walmart, but grocery stores usually also carry pill boxes and such.

[rametarin]

From a practical standpoint

You know, if someone wanted to bring down the cost of medicine, the only thing they’d really need to do is improve the science and the technology/engineering to where such things are cheap, and easily available.

However, they won’t do that, because in the current system, if anti-cancer drugs were the cost of bubblegum at the local corner store, then they couldn’t necessitate having a strong man government and centralized healthcare system that demands everybody be given said treatment on the basis of being alive, and demand everybody pay into this system to provide it.

So people like me find ourselves in this position where we despise the racketeers that overcharge for medicine, and the fabian socialist types that want all the centralization and authority and marriage of the state with healthcare as a way to justify taxation and control over the people.

Had I the political means, I’d fight high medicine prices by making a push towards the engineering education and manufacturing to make existing medical equipment that’s literal pennies to make, smack some bureaucrats in the head to make it more legal to do so, and set up programs to have the technical manpower needed to operate the diagnostic machines and equipment. So the base minimum standard of X-ray, sonargram, if there’s a machine you can name the thing would be ‘finished’ to be portable, consume minimum amounts of electricity, moderately intelligent and comprehensive to use and interpret- and capable of being software updated based on the latest research.

Profit would still be a driving motive, but overhead costs and engineering realities would be figured out. With a particular emphasis on those engineers that are willing to work on things that ultimately will lead to cheaper devices that can even be end-user owned but interpreted by clinicians and specialists. Profit NEEDs to be a motive. The question is, exactly by what margins and just how big a business or corporate model is required to fulfill them.

Some of the amazing things they’re doing now by pharmacogenetics and organs-on-a-chip are just incredible. So a great deal of complexitiy, the time sink and the ambiguity and unknowns of drug and medicine research, the pitfalls and legal risks, are about to go the fuck away. Meaning, even smaller companies trying to develop and patent their own brand of drugs or medicine, could do so.

And then there’s lowering the cost of the materials needed or required to produce insulin. And just smacking the bureaucratic system in the face on the government’s end that says, “only a certain anointed few are even allowed to produce stuff classified as medicine, and it’s an in-group you don’t belong to.”

I fully believe in the free market, private property, intellectual property, patents, copyrights and trademarks. And right now it isn’t capitalism or patents that are fucking it up for everybody, it’s how the government is being used to secure monopoly for some using that system, and then hiding behind that system like a shield for the impropriety existing at all. As certain ideologues are.

And I believe when medicine and healthare are UNFUCKED from this system, that will be the ideologues last gasp against capitalism. Capitalism will win, and ironically, it will result in honest medical bills from a position where there’s not a pill or injection that could run you more than the cost of OTC pain medicine.

The biggest battles to free medicine from this exploitation of the legal and bureaucratic system will occur in law and government on one end, and the science and engineering level on the other. It is ONLY in the interests of corporate monopoly and government interests, and those that want them merged, that healthcare be so expensive it REQUIRES an entire nation’s treasury to secure.

[mistymins]

A Call For The Past

○ yoongi x reader | 2.4k

○ some angst | winter soldier!au | marvel!au |

⇀ summary: it hasn’t been easy since you discovered your friend ‘Suga’ was an undercover assassin. And trying to reconnect with him may be just as hard as being traveling fugitives.

⇀ part of a scenario/drabble series, Lacuna - inspired by Marvel & the character Bucky Barnes

Gunshots. The distinct intimidation from the sound of every single one unloading from the barrel rattled the core your bones only this time, the discordance thundered beside your ear. The strange thing about it was that there were no visible bullets, not even one, to accompany the alarming sounds you were hearing. You sank to your toes, nearly burying your face to your knees as you cupped your ear in a failed attempt to foil the sound’s intent on instilling fear in you.

But the abyss-like void ignores all pleas, engulfing you into the darkness until you were falling and falling…faint echoes of something troublesome beginning to gnaw at you and you didn’t know whether they were manifestations of this nonsensical place or the real thing. But the clarity settled and those “faint echoes” became all the more familiar, and a piercing kind of hurt dug at your chest.

As you descended, you feel your gut menacingly tell you that you weren’t too far behind from the end of the fall. You teetered over the edge of danger but there was only silent acceptance and a slight taint of fear in the mixture. But before the bone crushing impact could hit you, light and soon coming into focus, cheap furniture in a mundane room with walls as vibrant as lifeless vegetation.

You woke up abruptly almost like a reel from shock. A sheen of sweat gliding down your forehead as you prompted yourself upright. Right…this was your reality. The color of the room lacked saturation probably due to the grey weather seeping from the curtains, the time indeterminable, but that seemed insignificant now that you notice him standing near the doorway—his black baseball cap covering his forehead, a bag of contents in his right hand.

You knew he had stepped out because he usually wears the same cap whenever he did and he almost rarely returns without bringing back something. 

But just looking made you remember your circumstances, so you slither back into the curtains,turning your back against his stoic gaze. “Take me home” a hint of tiredness in your voice, “Take me home, I miss my dog…I miss my apartment.”

There was small moment when you hear nothing from him before feeling the paper bag settle near your feet. “Eat up.” He says.

You hoist yourself up to rummage through it—of course, he had already left you to yourself—it was food that was nothing special: two pieces of plastic wrapped sandwiches from the gas station and a water bottle. Though it was a far cry from the norm, you kind of got used to it in the past couple of weeks. 

Before you could dig in, a proper thanks was in order, after all, he’s had no qualms about getting grub for you whenever necessary (you couldn’t leave the motel anyway, but it was the thought that counts).

You eyed the overturned bag, the other sandwich beckoning to be paid attention to. Did he not eat again? You pout slightly, he tends to provide for you at the expense of his health, you get it; he’s the knight in shining armor but this protection shouldn’t be at ‘expense’ of anything.  You’re not the only human being on the run here. 

You snag the other sandwich, staggering your way off the mattress to go and meet him. Of course, he’s already in his favorite spot: on a chair adjacent the window, inscrutably peering at the happenings outside with laser-eye focus, hands twisting and turning a knife, a glock appearing pristine as it perched by its lonesome in the middle of the coffee table before him.

“I don’t think they’re chasing us right now.” You murmur.

He tilts his head just enough to tell you that he definitely heard your voice and that he’s acknowledged it, but nothing more. It was starting to get annoying how brooding and reserved he is, acting like a stranger…he doesn’t even talk to you much anymore.

“Suga.” You say and his attention seems to catch the bait.

You held out the sandwich for him and he stares at it blankly at first, then navigates to you—his eyes devoid of anything, resembling the arctic cold. He could probably freeze a person with intimidation just by that poker face, but not you.  

You raise your eyebrows and nod as if it was your own wordless way of commanding him to take the damn sandwich and just eat it.

He sighs—which you’ve come to know as his way of saying, fine, I’ll do it—and you grin from ear to ear, satisfied so much to have him listen to you that you pull the chair on the opposite end, intending to have a bite together like it was your guy’s typical, lazy, Sunday morning back at the apartment. Like how it usually was. 

The moment your hand touches the head of the wooden chair (maybe he was already eyeing you before then), he blurts, “Your fingerprints.”

It takes a second or two but you immediately caught on, ripping your fingers back much like the reaction of a person repelled back by stinging pain from a hot stove.

“Sorry.” You muster, mouth drawing a line, knowing he was going to have to wipe off the prints later. “So…”, you start again, watching him unwrap his food as you quickly follow the same action. “Anything suspicious going on out there?”

“We’re in the clear right now so there’s nothing we need to worry about.” He says, stopping midway just to check back on you.

He must’ve noticed you gawking at him, it’s not like it was your intention to do it on purpose. Trying to reconnect with somebody who, to be honest to yourself, you thought you knew pretty well only to find out he wasn’t just hiding one or two measly little secrets was eye-opening. 

You’d known him as ‘Suga’, your next door neighbor, close friend, confidant, all that good stuff…he was nearly a complete 180 but…The guy you knew, he couldn’t be completely gone, could he?

“Suga” you quickly notice your mistake, “I mean, Yoongi. When you were my neighbor, when we hung out and all that, how much of that was actually you? It can’t be all a lie, right?”

There’s that feeling where it seems like everything and everyone just stops moving, and the air ceases to blow a draft through the wispy curtains of the window, and even the tick-tock of the clock dissolves into a soundless nothingness—all because you were listening for something you either wanted or didn’t want to hear.

You couldn’t help but bring this up or think about it whenever you looked upon his face because he, Suga, was your friend.

His eyes twitch just enough for you to catch wind of it, “I’m given an alias wherever I go, my background, my interests…all fabricated”, his voice is surly; he doesn’t seem to want to eat anymore, “Suga was just a persona and a mask that I was supposed to play for Hydra. I’m sorry.”

His confession was a sharpened knife that you had pricked yourself upon now that he lay the words right in front of the table. And as much you swallowed the pill of harsh “truth”, it managed to bubble up in your voice; the anger and the hurt. 

“Then who are you? And I don’t want to hear another alias or another fake identity, I mean, who are you, really?” you notice your voice slightly grow but it was too late to take it back.

“I…” he manages to say, letting his brown hair fall on his eyes, “don’t know. I don’t remember.”

His eyebrows knit together and for a while, you thought that that was it, it was going be another season until you hear about his past, however…

“It’s just—” he’s fighting to press on, “I have bits and pieces jumbled in my head. I remember these memories but” it’s as if whatever words he’s unable to convey is translated into hand gestures. “I don’t know what’s real, what was implanted. What I’m supposed to believe.”

There’s a look on his face that unintentionally confesses the anguish he’s holding back.

Never before, since this whole ‘run-away’ thing had blown out of proportion, had you felt some semblance of empathy towards him. He’s told you only on a ‘need to know’ basis. About Hydra, about ‘his work’, but the only fact ingrained in you was that he took Suga away—it felt like, in some sense, he had killed him; the Suga who was all along a fake identity. 

The bitterness cultivated like a growing seed but now it seemed to filter away as you realize that here sat a man, used like an asset, paying the price for being their mercenary dog.  

“Listen to me. there’s something that you did, or didn’t do I guess, that already makes you different” You say, leaning closer, “Your mission report was to kill me...You had nearly a hundred chances to do what you had to do. You got close to me, earned my trust; you could’ve ended my life before I even knew it. But you didn’t” It still hurt to admit what he’d been planning all this time but you’ve had some time to let it simmer.

“Don’t you see? This means that something that was the real you made a decision.” You assure.

After weeks, it looks like your words finally punctured the iron clad armor he hid behind as you saw a small smile that, to anyone else might’ve been insignificant—just a faint and effortless—but to you was like blue skies peering through the storm. You’ve seen him smile before, but it just seemed…different.

The truth is, you missed Suga but the person who portrayed him was still here, with that same face that reacted to whatever you were saying. Maybe Suga was fake and Yoongi was the real person…or maybe it didn’t matter as long as he was here.

“Housekeeping!”

There was a muffled voice behind the door that instinctively got you both turning heads, your throat tightened as if even the slightest sound of your hushed breath could be detected; anxiety beginning to run its course. Yoongi, however, was fearless, he didn’t tremble at the thought of another assailant possibly barging in, at least he didn’t appear to be as you watched him soundlessly tip toe towards the door when you could only sit and swallow the dryness in your throat.

It probably is just the housekeeper but being on the run has taught you to be extra careful of the ones you’d least expect to try anything.

He prompts you stay where you are—which you knew to do anyways as he’s the expert in these kinds of things—twirling the knife in his right hand as he predatorily checks the door. 

All you could think is ok, what can we do in this situation? If the person outside is, in your worst possible scenario, another wolf of Hydra, opening the door and letting your face be shown is equivalent to inviting death; your voices too would probably be in the files…of course, before all this, you were Yoongi’s target, and he’s likely fed them intel or they’ve already done their little ‘research’. Either way, they definitely know who you are.

There’s a knock on the door when neither of you spoke a word.

This was when a plan simultaneously hashes in your head; one you admit you’re embarrassed to have thought of in the first place, but more so, that you actually think it would be a viable solution—especially since your source for this “ingenious” plan was from a movie. 

Seriously…seriously?! One half of you say. And the other half is curiously gung-ho for it. Let’s just say, HYDRA recognizing your voice wasn’t going to be a concern.

Okay…

The more you thought about it the more cumbersome it appears so you literally just dive in head-first before your other half could talk you out of it. A series of lewd sounds begin to leave your lips; the kind that occurs in the ‘after dark’ hours. Was this more embarrassing in action? Yes, yes it was.

And what could possibly be the cherry on top of this mortifying experience was the fact that Yoongi had no choice but to observe while you work at it; etched on his face was an ajar mouth and widened eyes that detailed a ‘is this really happening?’ speechlessness.

An overwhelming amount of heat settled on your cheeks and continues to climb there when he raises a cheeky brow at your changes in pitch. He’s never seen or heard you like this before.

But despite the crippling embarrassment, it evidently works as the housekeeper utters something along the lines of ‘I’ll come back some other time’ and Yoongi peeks out the viewfinder, knowing that he is just waiting until they are no longer in the picture or at least far enough. What was for sure not even a minute felt significantly longer; made more intense that neither of you lost eye contact even if your mind is burdening you to look elsewhere.

You clear your throat as your leg fidgets and as he made his return to the table. “Shut up.” you say before he could sit down and say anything smart. “It worked, okay?”

He shrugged and although his expression tried to be subdued, there was no hiding that he undeniably got a kick from all of this. “Just one thing.” Is he pausing for dramatic effect now? “Remember that mask I have?” he asks and you snap your gaze from your sandwich to him.

Crap. In hindsight, this now made your little idea from a few minutes ago seem like an embarrassing drunken story from a frat party. 

This “mask”, technically called a Photostatic Veil, was an ingenuity that was made up of programmable tech, constructed by nano-sized cells from end to end. In other words, it could completely reshape itself and mimic the facial structures of another person and it was 100% fail proof in hiding your true identity. It was one of the technological devices gifted to him along with the job.

The sudden realization only now makes you avoid looking at him as you pick up your food, “Just eat the damn sandwich…” you mutter.

You would be mistaken if you thought you heard him snicker but you swore you did as the sound of rustling plastic eventually drowns it out.