crank sets

6

i made every mistake and felt the shame rise in me. and even now i lie awake, knowing history has its eyes on me.

anonymous asked:

maggie/james brotp is my favourite thing in the whole world oh my gosh that thing you wrote about their gym sessions !!! i can so clearly imagine maggie getting so competitive even though james is a foot taller than her and generally huge and she's a lil pip squeak

Based on this post – http://queergirlwriting.tumblr.com/post/157695845674/queergirlwriting-i-dont-always-do-over-100

“Oh come on, Alex, what’s the harm?”

“The harm? James, she wants me to give her a flash grenade. A flash grenade, James! Don’t be fooled by that perfect smile and those shining, gorgeous eyes and that – “

“Okay, okay, Alex, I get it. I won’t be seduced by your girlfriend.”

“That’s not what I – “

“Alex, it’s just a gym date. And I’m – “ James glances around shiftily before leaning in and whispering in Alex’s ear. “I’m Guardian, Alex, I think I can handle your incredibly strong but also incredibly tiny girlfriend in the gy – “

“James, hey! Ready to go? Hi babe! James and I are gonna work out together, did he tell you? Wanna come with?”

Alex’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens hesitantly and her eyes swivel to J’onn, who smirks but looks away, offering absolutely no help. Her eyes land next on Winn, who’s leaning back in his desk chair and already gesturing at her with a pen.

“You know, I think I’ve had enough of a workout for the day – “

“You call scampering in here late for your shift a workout, Mr. Schott?”

“Not helping J’onn,” Winn says through clenched teeth, and Maggie goes over to him and slaps a welcoming hand on his shoulder.

“Next time, Winn, I know how to take a hint.”

“Thank you,” he whispers with relief, and Alex snickers.

“You, on the other hand,” Maggie says, running a finger from Alex’s throat down the slight neckline of her uniform’s zipper. “You’re just lucky I don’t want to crash James and my plans.”

She leans up on tiptoes to kiss her and James laughs as he tosses an arm around Maggie’s shoulders.

“See you all later,” he waves, looking back at Alex over Maggie’s head. “Nothing to worry about,” he mouths at her.

“There are cameras in the gym they’re going to, aren’t there?” Alex mutters to Winn, and he grins and points at his screens.

“Already on it.”

“Mr. Schott, Agent Danvers, I hope that you’re not planning to use DEO resources to surveil your closest friends – and for you, Alex, your girlfriend – while they’re working out together.”

“J’onn,” Alex holds up her hands, and the innocence on her face reminds him of when he’d keep an eye on her when she was a little girl, laughing with Kara in the back yard. “You have no idea how competitive Maggie is. James doesn’t know what he’s walking into. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

J’onn has never felt more like her father as he realizes where Kara learned to pout from, as he takes a deep breath, sighs, and walks off in the other direction, muttering as he goes, “At least Vasquez can be counted on to do her job.”

Winn snorts, because he knows Susan is bound to be on her way to join them any minute now, that even Pam might come up from HR to catch the latest.

Alex grins fondly after her space dad, her heart swollen with love, with pride, with feeling, unusually, like a child while also feeling perfectly loved, perfectly happy, perfectly confident.

She hopes James has his confidence in tact, too, because Rao, is he going to need it.

Because when Maggie and him hop on a treadmill to warm up, it takes him a minute to notice that she’s eyeing his speed and consistently keeping hers a few notches above his.

It takes him a minute to notice that when he runs through some dynamic stretching, she makes sure to flex slightly farther than he does.

He grins good naturedly and winks at her. She grins right back, because god it feels good to be working out with a man who’s going to love her and admire her and keep up with her, not want to overcompensate for his masculinity with her.

“Squats, Olsen?” she asks, and he wonders vaguely how sharing a rack is going to work with their… well… height difference, but if Maggie’s workout rotation is on leg day, he’s not going to get in the way of her having the most effective workout she can.

She doesn’t surprise him when she cranks out a beautifully formed workout set with just the 45-pound bar, but she does surprise him when she gestures him into the rack for his own warm-up set and she gets right down to bang out a set of perfect tricep pushups.

“So you superset, Sawyer?”

“Always.”

And she surprises him again when – after he lowers the bar to her shoulder level after his own warm-up – she leaves the 25 pound plates that he used to warm up on the bar and cranks out another perfect set with no problem.

“Maggie, doesn’t that weigh almost what you do?”

She shoves into his chest with her shoulder as they switch places. “Please, Olsen, I’m not that tiny, don’t believe the slander my woman spreads.”

He realizes quickly that Maggie is integrating endurance training with strength training – a lot more reps than he would normally do with heavier loads, even putting weighted plates on her back while she does her pushups – and her dedication makes him smile. The way she’s attentive to him when they’re both panting, when she’s spotting him, but the way her eyes seal themselves off in pure focus when she unracks the bar on her shoulders and sets her feet, the way her form is perfect every time, the way it’s like nothing else exists in the world while she’s lifting.

“Alex is a lucky woman,” he pants after his own set of weighted pushups, after Maggie’s latest set of squats.

“Why’s that?”

“You share her passion for focus. It’s something photographers have to have, too. No uh… no pun intended.”

Maggie looks around and grins before putting both hands on his shoulder and pulling herself up toward his ear. “And karate-style superheroes too, huh?”

James laughs as she lowers herself down.

“Apparently.”

And she helps with his own focus, too, counting out his reps for him, her voice pushing him to do more, more, more.

He’s so lost in his own focus during his next round of pushups that he almost doesn’t notice when the location of her voice rises from where she’s leaning back on her haunches next to him.

He doesn’t notice, that is, until she’s straddling him, full-out sitting on his lower back.

“Seriously?” he chokes, trying desperately to hold in his laughter, to keep his arms from shaking.

“Oh come on, Olsen, you can get in at least another ten, I thought you all are always saying I’m supposed to be microscopic or something.”

He laughs so hard at that that they both collapse in a heap on the padded gym floor, and as they’re gasping for breath, as they’re waving away the concern of other gym-goers, Maggie nudges him and points to one of the security cameras in the corner of the room.

“Say hey to the DEO, James,” she grins, and he groans with a broad smile.

“They hacked in, didn’t they?”

“Of course they hacked in. And you know what they saw?”

“Oh, god. Winn and Alex – and Vasquez, too, probably – oh thank god Kara’s at CatCo all day – seeing me collapsing with you on my back.”

“Wanna redeem yourself, Olsen?”

“You’re on, Sawyer. You’re on.”

knowing gina and thinking about her antics throughout the years.. im pretty sure she planned the whole “accidentally livecasting the captains speech and saving the precint” stunt

Sunday Brunch

Request: For sequel to The Alleyway Rescue. They’re related.  In this, Credence visits Reader for their weekly Sunday brunch and after the food, finds a way to fully relax via a story.

Word Count: 1,747

Pairing: Credence x Reader

Requested by Anonymous but also tagging @gdmora

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


The pan clatters onto the oven’s metal rack. Closing the heavy door, you crank the timer and set it aside. Turning away, you flick your wand, sending a pair of dinner dishes dancing onto your small dining table. The bowl of eggs lands in the center of it, right next to a plate of sausage and two cartons of jam.

Keeping one ear toward the door, you pull open the fridge as the timer ticks away. The turnovers’ warm strawberry smell wafts through your apartment, sending you stomach into a growling mess. Better a growling mess than the light, nervous mess it had been before.

The timer dings just as you hear what you’ve been waiting for: four light taps on the door. “Just a minute.” You shout, sliding on an oven mitt and pulling the pan of pastries from their spot on the rack. It crashes on top of the stove where you throw it, shaking the oven mitt from your hand and rushing toward the door.

Feeling silly, you pat your hair down before you click the locks open and pull the door open. “Credence!”

His smile is small, as always, but genuine. “I’m sorry.” He stops, as though he needs to recharge to finish his sentence. “For being late.”

You smile back at him. “It’s okay. You have perfect timing, actually! The turnovers just finished!”

Credence steps in and you shut the door behind him.

“Strawberry?” He questions, glancing around your apartment.

“Of course.” They’re his favorites, as you’d found out five weeks ago at your second weekly Sunday brunch. “You can sit. I’m just going to throw the turnovers on a plate.”

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Grillby x Reader Headcanons

So I see a… fairly large amount of nsfw involving Grillby. He’s one of my faves [hell I even have a tag for him that’s “campfire husband”], but being ace as hell means I get extremely uncomfortable being reminded that it’s out there. Other people can like it, I’m just… yeah. Ace and sex-repulsed and character possessive. Horrible combo, let me tell ya, for when things decide to slip through my blacklisted tags or my blacklist decides to lag with blocking those posts.

So to try and combat this, I’ve typed up a bunch of extremely self-indulgent self-insert-esque headcanon things that are pure fluff. I had a few that were extremely specific to my own insecurities, but I’m not gonna bother anyone with those.


- Headcanon that Grillby doesn’t actually ignite things or burn things with his touch; he feels like a freshly-warmed heat pack. He can set fire to things if he so chooses, but generally he won’t. He can also adjust his own temperature, but only so much.

- You spend a lot of time in the kitchen together. Preparing meals, checking out websites and shows and books for ideas, filing things away for later use. Grillby sometimes works things into his bar as limited-time offers, sometimes bringing them back every so often or making them permanent when there’s enough demand.

- Sometimes your food or hot drinks get cold. Grillby is perfectly okay with holding the plate or mug in his hands to warm them up. Boiling water is also much quicker when he’s around.

- Instant toasted marshmallows and melted chocolate and other things just by having Grillby hold things.

- You’ve mentioned how cold you get at night in the winter, even with multiple layers of bedding. You begin to experience a certain fiery being slipping into your room on particularly cold nights.  The temperature difference is one thing, but it’s kind of hard not to notice the firelight once it’s suddenly there.

- You have to invest in a sleeping mask for when you snuggle up to Grillby at night, because of that same illumination he gives off. At that close of a proximity it can be a little difficult to try and sleep with the light burning through your eyelids. He tries to dim himself but it doesn’t quite work well enough.

- Cold weather = warm cuddles. No more having to wrap up in countless layers just to stay warm in your own home. You’re kind of a barnacle about it though. Not that Grillby minds too much.

- Unfortunately, hot weather is a nightmare. So having the AC cranked up to ridiculous settings happens a lot when Grillby’s around in the summer. 

- You have a section of your pantry that, to outsiders, looks to be just fireplace materials. Coal, firewood, matches, various kindling material. They’re actually for the fire man. He has a soft spot for pinecones, especially the special ones around the holidays that are cinnamon or change the color of the fire once they’re ignited. Not quite the same as Snowdin pinecones, but still good in their own way.

- You get asked a lot where you’ve been that you smell like a campfire.

- Grillby tries not to go out after dark, because he literally becomes a beacon and actually doesn’t like being stared at by huge amounts of people. In the Underground there were other fire people, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but above ground there are way more people and none of them seem to be aware that there are beings out there that emit light like he does. You have to drag that out of him though, since the most he does is act really uncomfortable and just sit and not move when it’s suggested that you go out and do something when it happens to be dark out.

- You have a very small amount of glass figures and other things on a shelf. Grillby will rarely miscalculate just how hot his hands are when he’s holding glass cups, and melted them partly. So he’s reshaped them into little things. And after you made a comment that you liked the way they looked, he’s started leaving them around for you to find. He won’t purposefully melt things, so there aren’t too many.

It’s tough to choose a top 3. @breakbot was my favorite set. So much energy and their bassist was slaying everything with funk. @thexx had a touching set so precisely executed. And they even unleashed @jamie__xx for a few songs. @phantogram holy shit they stepped it up this year. @moderat_band on point as always. @lordemusic brought a huge headliner-worthy act. The new material she played was so good @kendricklamar’s fan waiting for a front row spot will probably pick up her new album. @crystalcastles were so loud & noisy they scared all the plastic barbies off the Sahara tent. Very satisfying. @grouplove @bastilledan @justice all great sets cranked to 11. But @radiohead sent it a little too hard as they blew up the sound board.
#coachella2017

thepotatoaddict  asked:

Hi mate. Just saw your video about Mason using a 42 cassette with his Shimano 105 short cage derailleur. Do you know if a 42 cassette would also work + the Shimano 105 mid cage derailleur and a 50-34 compact crank set Trek 1.1 + a long enough chain or would you recommend the short cage? And I should not screw the B-screw all the way in right? According to Shimano and Wolftooth it is of course not working.Would you recommend any specific 42 cassette and chain? Thanks a lot bro You are the best :)

Depends what 105 derailleur you have. Mason has a 5800 short cage aka SS.

You can put mountain bike cranks on the 1.1 so maybe that would work better if are are not racing crits or doing really fast bunch rides on the flat.

mindofdarrow-deactivated2015022  asked:

I've been trying my hand at writing dystopian science fiction, but I always feel unsatisfied with the end product. As much as I try, it's like I keep treading the same ground other writers in the genre have walked upon to death with my characters. What do you think I should take into consideration when trying to write a dystopian story with characters that don't feel like standard cut-and-paste genre caricatures?

By having something to say. Without exception dystopian lit is political. It’s a genre founded in the axiom, “be careful what you wish for;” using human misery to drive the point home. The payoff is always the argument you’re making in the process.

In writing a dystopia, you’re asking your readers to inhabit a fundamentally horrible world for awhile. You need to do something to justify that. It can be compelling characters, but that’s more of an end than means. If your world exists for a reason, it will go a long way towards explaining what is there, and giving it the unique identity it needs.

Also, don’t assume you need to be writing a fascist state. I see a lot of writers conflate these, don’t make the same mistake.

You do need a setting that makes sense. Ask your self how “normal” people go about their day to day lives. This is just general world building advice, but it’s incredibly important when you’re setting up a dystopia.

No one is stopping you from cranking your setting too far. Making things too desperate and bleak. But, for a functioning dystopia, you need people buying into the system, because what they gain through participation is more valuable than what they’re giving up.

One very good way to handle this is by hiding the unsavory nature under a veneer of public safety or health. “They’re not rounding up political opponents; those are just ‘the mentally ill,’ It’s for their own good, really, they’ll be sent to reeducation centers.” There’s a part of your brain that knows how horribly wrong that is, but if it sounds legitimate, that dissonance will serve your setting fantastically.

Also playing in the opposite direction is also useful for selling a setting that’s gone off the rails are excessive propaganda. Playing up how wonderful the world’s system is, even while the audience is shown the real horrors lurking under the surface. Orwell’s 1984 has a wonderful (read: horrific) take on this by rewriting the language people use to deny them the ability to dissent.

It’s important to understand that an effective dystopia needs people that will actively defend the status quo and view it as desirable. Either they actually benefit from it, or because they think that, one day, they will benefit from it.

In case you really want to run with fascism anyway, here’s a few things to point out.

Almost universally, fascism starts in a desire for revenge, marching lock step with nationalistic pride. The poster children of Fascism, the Nazis, came to power by appealing to the German peoples’ resentment over World War I reparations, which had left their country in economic shambles.

Fascism frequently secures it’s power base by playing bullies. That is to say, they pick a culturally acceptable target and start going after them as a means to make everyone else feel better about themselves. This could be an ethic group, a sexual orientation, political or philosophical ideology. They vilify that group, and let everyone else feel good about going after them. It’s important to remember, those targets aren’t picked out of a hat, they play on existing social prejudices; sanctioning and playing into them.

They also thrive on giving petty people enormous power to mess with people. Police and low level bureaucrats are given extreme power and allowed to run roughshod over the “little people.” Again, playing bullies. This also often includes picking members from the oppressed group to police their own. The expressed argument is that they are best suited to “protect” their own from outside oppression, but the truth is they will often be far more brutal, and provide a mitigating factor to keep the oppressed from looking at the true abusers.

The biggest possible mistake about a fascist system is dehumanizing the oppressors. They’re still exploiting and/or bullying the people under them, but they are humans who are making decisions based on the information they have. Someone who is evil in an understandable way is far more threatening and disturbing than someone engaged in cartoon supervillainy.

Again, you can just as easily present a dystopia that’s democratic. In some ways it’s easier, because unless you’re specifically talking about governmental overreach, then a fascist state is only going to muddy whatever you’re trying to talk about.

So, here’s a few classic dystopian novels to get you started: Just, fair warning, there’s only one book on this list that I actually enjoy. Don’t expect a lot of happy endings, this isn’t that kind of a list.

Handmaid’s Tale by Margret Atwood. This is a story about a woman caught in a Christian theocracy in the United States. Make sure you read the appendix, it provides a lot of background about the world from the perspective of in-setting academics analyzing the tapes that frame the book.

A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch, by Alexander Solzhenitsyn. If you thought dystopias couldn’t happen in the real world, I’m sorry. Ivan Denisovitch is partially based on Solzhenitsyn’s experiences in the Soviet gulag system. I hesitate to call it “autobiographical,” but it’s not using a fictional world.

Destined to Witness: Growing Up Black in Nazi Germany, by Hans J. Massaquoi. It’s The Third Reich, really, any discussion on fascism should probably include this. By focusing on the German people, the discussion revolves around anecdotes about the effectiveness propaganda so great that even those who do not benefit and are ostracized (such as Hans) buy into it. Nazi Germany is often treated as an anomaly in fiction, this is a good reminder that not only did it happen but it can happen again, anywhere.

Native Son by Richard Wright. Because 1930s Chicago isn’t your first thought for dystopian fiction. Except, here it is. A classic of the genre, where you didn’t expect to see it.

White Tiger by Aravind Adiga. White Tiger is almost a more comical take on Native Son. Set in modern day India, it deals with a similar narrative. It’s the only novel on the list from the last 20 years, but at this point you could probably use some comic relief. It also presents realities of a modern day dystopia that’s heavily grounded in the real world.

Animal Farm and 1984 by George Orwell. I don’t like either of these, but Orwell is still in print for a reason. Animal Farm does make more sense if you’re familiar with the Russian revolution. And, of course, 1984 is the book on oppressive dystopian governments. If you haven’t read it by now, you need to.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. If I’m honest, I don’t think Bradbury knows what he was saying, or what the book even means. But, he was certainly trying to say something. Probably, about the corrosive nature on popular culture on classical literature. But, I’m guessing. Regardless, it’s worth your time, especially to expand your toolbox of social manipulation from 1984.

The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. So… I skipped most of this when it was assigned in college. Sinclair was trying to advocate for safer work conditions, but instead lead to increased regulation of food production in America. As with Native Son, this is just America, no sinister space Nazis needed.

-Starke

( Open to anyone interested )

( Fingers reached out, compelling
the other closer as lips stretched
over white teeth, a yawn escaping
the boy’s lips though he tried to
stifle it behind the back of a hand. )

                   "My hammock is big enough
                   for two, you know. And I’m
                   willing to share.“

EXO’s Chanyeol in Final Talks for His First Movie, “Longevity Shop”

It looks like EXO’s Chanyeol might be making his acting/film debut!

On June 27, according to various industry officials, Chanyeol is in final talks for director Kang Jae Kyu’s new film “Longevity Shop” (lit.), the director’s first in three years. SM Entertainment said, “We’ve received the scenario for “Longevity Shop,” and we are looking it over.”

“Longevity Shop” was originally called “Greetings of Love” or “Last First Love,” and is about an old couple’s late-life romance.

If Chanyeol confirms for the film, he will be playing an innocent high school student, for his first foray into the acting world. Other actors who might be starring in the film include Park Geun HyungYoon Yeo JungJo Jin Woong, and Han Ji Min.

The film is set to crank in in August.

source: soompi

Give Up The Ghost + Part 2 [CS Nightmare Fanfiction]

Killian and Emma have nightmares after returning from the Underworld. Angst/comfort with eventual fluff/smut. Inspired by THIS SONG.


Slow down
We’re losing the meaning of words now.
Quiet the noise ‘cause we’ve made
A mountain of minuscule things.

He didn’t know when he’d finally drifted off the night before. He wasn’t actually convinced that he did any sleeping at all until his eyes forced themselves open, exhaustion still causing them to feel heavy as early daylight threatened to peek through the curtains. They swayed in the breeze in a comforting fashion - the true essence of home and a sweet reminder that Emma knew he liked to sleep with the window open.

She was always rather sneaky about acquiring such knowledge, the coy curve of her lips never giving away much when she observed his preferences for things. It made what was left of his heart swell and he settled into the relaxation the dim dawn was offering.

He turned carefully, the fact that he’d dozed off in his regular clothes making it difficult to do so. He’d barely grown into the idea of a modern wardrobe when he’d traded it all for his Dark One attire. The sweater was his favorite color and one Henry had been excited to coax him into buying. The material was soft and as much as he knew Emma liked his leather, there was something insanely comfortable about the way she snuggled into his chest when he wore it. She had a way with that - with making him feel relaxed and wanted, even when self certainty was out of reach.

She’d proven that again when he’d shown up on her - well, their doorstep the previous night.

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