#Concrete Expansion Anchors

[fixdex-fastening-technology]

👍 Wedge anchor All production processes are inside our factory

[tthevoic3s]

From Blood Births Life and Death - Chapter 17

Held at Gunpoint

(Alt: Fly, My Scarab)

Word count: 3,243

MASTERPOST

The wind gusts hit hard against his face as Mars made his way back into the forest – back at the headquarters. The whizzing of cables of his gear resonated slightly in the air, a stark, metallic contrast to the sounds of the nature surrounding him. 

The hooks anchored themselves on the rough tree barks, making the soldier move in the vast expanse of the woods with absurd speed and agility. He leapt in the air no slower than a bug casually flying by. Well, if only bugs wore military clothes, thin glasses, and had a mess of curly blond hair actively disturbing their eyesight. 

As soon as the deeper part of the forest became visible and able to shield him from undesired eyes, Mars quickly fired a wire and lowered himself mid-flight.  

He hovered swiftly between the thick tree branches, the foliage shadowing from above.

He really, really risked his neck this time. It was almost unbelievable he agreed with Maya. The girl’s decision was straight up reckless, based on everything but solid, reliable proof, nor a plan, but he still agreed. Mars still said yes. And again, he wasn’t really able to understand what part of his brain decided to loosen his grip around rationality. Unlike the chances of success, the risks were concrete, real, almost tangible. 

A drop of sweat slid down his forehead as his mind retraced every step that led him to that moment. 

The jail guards had been their first problem. Well, obviously not the worst. Mars — or rather, Captain Erickson of the Research Scout Unit — had everything but a bad reputation in the headquarters. He was one of the best, his face known and recognised by other soldiers, guards, staff… everyone, in a nutshell. He might haven’t been Junior, but his well known identity alone guaranteed him good protection. Yeah, maybe his scouting mission companion was a little bit shorter than the average soldier, and the military clothes didn’t fit their body well, but he was pretty sure he could forget about suspicions, at least in this part. Nobody would’ve expected that the person under that ski mask and helmet was, from all people, Maya Strauss. 

They had sneaked out successfully, and that alone was a great win. 

One point less to Scott’s colony organisation system, because, for fuck’s sake, you really must be absorbed in your stupid evil planning shit not to notice a prisoner escaping from jail. And, most of all, not to notice that said escapee was being helped not by one, but by five of his best soldiers. 

Looked like Scott had only eyes for Junior. Well, nothing’s new. Mars wouldn’t have blamed him if such attitude persisted only during that month, after all he wasn’t — no, wait, she, actually — wrong to want to control the native who helped Maya, but everyone in the academy knew how much Higgs cared about Junior. 

“Cared”.

Hah, it was more like he wanted to have her on a leash. Oh, and he totally had her. The general’s loyal lapdog and perfect student. Annoyingly perfect, always got the best missions, and, most of all, the main reason their plans of overthrowing Higgs’ power was being sabotaged. She was his second pair of eyes, hidden behind the mask of the apprentice. It was undeniably too risky to act when she was around. And she was always around. 

Now, if God existed, He must have blessed their luck. Because casually, precisely during the month Junior wasn’t around, and Scott was absorbed by other matters, Maya Strauss came out with her reckless plan. Not that the two things weren’t linked — after all, the key factor was that guy. The native Maya interacted with. 

Screw it, Mars hated having him involved. It wasn’t anything personal, but having one of them involved in their plans meant multiplying significantly the risks of getting discovered. 

And, to be honest, he was also kind of intimidated. Okay, maybe Mars was on the verge of pissing himself when he locked eyes with the giant — just being looked at by someone so much powerful than him made his blood run cold.

For how Friedrich’s ideologies were still in his heart, believing giants were harmless in theory was a thing, almost interacting with one in real life was… a completely different, adrenaline inducing, terrifying one. 

Probably, that young man wasn't even really aware of the power he held in his mere hands, but Mars, oh, Mars sure as hell was. 

He wasn’t exactly scary himself — freckles, dark blond hair, pointed ears— all of his features might have been boyish if they weren’t attached to someone a hundred feet tall.

Even though he might have looked like a slightly awkward librarian, not much older than a teenager, judging by his appearance, it absolutely couldn’t deny the fact that he could kill a human being without effort or a second thought. 

The soldier shivered at the thought, clenching his teeth.

It’s okay — he tried to reassure himself — If Maya trusts him…

Okay, let’s take a step back. Realistically, nobody would put their life in the hands of Maya Strauss, no matter who her father was and how reliable his knowledge could have been. She had always been a reckless feral goblin, even while Fred was alive, he could vividly remember it. 

Luckily though, she was the type of person to apply her crazy plans by herself. Always great at seeking attention, he had to say. That red haired bastard really thrived to cause chaos, as if she was trying to be the main character of whatever adventure fiction she was building up in that little head of hers.

It almost seemed that she was jealous of her troubles and wanted to carry all her reckless shit alone, quite never involving others — Mars being included was an exception. Maybe, just maybe, because he was the one that included her first.

Welp.

Mars sighed in relief. 

Now he was safe and sound, whizzing in the air away from danger, as agilely as the previously mentioned bug. A mighty scarab in a world too huge for him. Tired and misunderstood, he would have added. Welp.

Now, the native was a Maya problem. Asking him for help was her idea, she was dealing with him, and with whatever reaction he might have been having at that moment.  It might have been a bit egoistical as a thought, but Mars never denied being a bit of an asshole. 

The Mars problem right now was making sure that Scott didn’t suspect a thing while he was away — that man was still kind of unpredictable, and fucking crazy, he might say. But screw Scott Higgs. The most important thing he had to make sure was that Riley actually nailed the secret mission they had discussed before Maya’s jailbreak, and most of all, that he did it without getting his ass caught. 

-

“The bunker is in good shape. Honestly, I’d expected Higgs to destroy every single one of them, burn them down, but surprisingly, it was just sealed shut.”

Mars took a slow drag as the two soldiers walked through the empty corridor, letting the cigarette burn down just a little more before exhaling a cloud of gray. 

Thank God. 

“The infrastructure is sturdy. A bit dusty, sure, but still standing,” Riley continued, stuffing his hand in his pockets as he kept looking at his mate. “We have to collect and bring supplies, though. Weapons, food, maps and documents for the plans.”

Another tendril of smoke spread in the air after leaving Mars’ lips.

“You sure it’s safe, well hidden?” He asked, his tone etched with something close to anxiety. Riley shot him a pointed look, as if he had just questioned an obviousness. 

“General Strauss made sure of it himself, years ago. It always worked. Why are you doubting now?” he replied. “Something on your mind?”

There wasn’t a concrete problem, but if Mars had to be completely frank, there was something in his mind. His brows knitted together as the scene at the village library replayed in the blond haired soldier’s mind. Higgs and his allies were their main problem, the thing he should focus on, but he still couldn’t shake off the way the native boy looked – no, stared – at him. Sheer confusion. He looked everything but aware of the entity of what was at stake, but how could he be, after all? Until Maya decided to let herself be seen, humans were extinct in the boy’s mind. It wasn’t the easiest news to learn, and they had been lucky he reacted in such a calm way.  The problem gnawing at Mars’ mind was now another – What if other natives discovered about them? Not only their existence, but a whole bunker of humans right there, inside their village. 

The issue had never bothered him when Friedrich was alive. He knew what he was doing, and Mars didn’t need to worry. However, everything was on his squad’s shoulders now. And since he was the captain, the sheer responsibility of it added weight to the already heavy burden. And he couldn’t forget about Maya’s involvement. He shivered at the mere thought of leaving such a fragile matter in her hands. But what was done was done. 

Right on point, Riley elbowed him. “Any problems with that ginger menace?” he snorted, “All her father, isn’t she? Let’s just hope her little friend doesn’t mess anything up.” 

Yeah. Perfect time, Jason Riley. Really.

“How was he?”

“Tall.” Mars replied, deadpan. 

“No shit.”

“Young, confused, definitely too little aware for my liking.”

“For your liking?” Riley scoffed. “Is there anything in this world that actually fits your liking, Unit Captain Marcus Erickson?” 

Mars glared at his companion. Here he goes, addressing him with his full name and title just to mock him. In response, he just sighed.  

“Let’s go deliver this report before Scott loses his temper, come on.” he said, as they resumed walking towards the meeting room. The heavy metal door slid open, but just before the two men could step inside, a dark blur of movement cut straight across their path.

Junior.

Well, predictable. Mars and Riley exchanged a knowing glance. Of course she had to be the first one on roll call if Scott Higgs was there. 

The doors sealed shut as they finally entered, and the two soldiers headed to their usual spot on the side of the dimly lit room, against one of the walls. Sarah, James and Samuel, the other members of their Unit, were already there, probably waiting for them. They stared at the General, who was turned towards the huge whiteboard, his fingers sweeping over the projected map of the island, while his other hand firmly held a lit cigarette between two fingers.

“Killed by her own stubbornness,” Higgs prompted, his voice low and detached, almost a contemplative hum, without any hint of grief or concern. “What a shame for a girl to die so young.” 

His lips curled into a slight smirk.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if she got killed by one of her friends,” the general scoffed. “Those savages she insisted so dearly to defend. How heroic. At least she died proving me right,” he added, his smirk turning even more grim. “Not that I ever doubted, anyways.”

Mars visibly cringed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tried to keep his mask of loyal composure on. 

It was incredible. Incredible how Scott Higgs took any possible chance to blame everything on someone that did absolutely nothing to him — rather than existing. Just that mere fact, although, was considered an outrageous insult to human kind, given Scott’s ideals. 

Higgs pinched at the screen with his fingers, zooming out from the map, and leant against the long metal table. His broad frame casted a shadow on the electronic board behind him, partially obscuring the projected image.

“Well. Captain Erickson…” he prompted, stretching his arm in Mars’ direction, flexing his fingers in a clear gesture for him to hand the mission report.

Mars obeyed without any kind of complaint, and gave him the neatly folded — and accurately falsified — report of the scouting mission. The ‘scouting mission’ that was covering Mars’ little trip to the giant village and to that boy’s library. 

Higgs dismissed him with a nod, and flipped through the pages of the file quickly, almost carelessly. Then, he just exhaled slowly. 

“Well, one problem less. Right, Junior?

Sadie’s head jerked up abruptly, as if she was caught lost in thought. Well that was new — Mars thought. She was always so precise, never off guarded — especially during meetings. Something was on her mind, perhaps. And perhaps, it didn’t mean it was good. Mars bit his lip, his hands fidgeting slightly behind his back. She nodded, initially looking at Scott. But then, her sharp blue eyes moved slowly to meet the Captain’s own auburn ones.

Mars stiffened as he noticed how her brows furrowed, almost if she was studying him. Her gaze lingered on him for seconds that seemed hours, and he let out a string of curses under his breath, not audible to anybody else in the room except his mind. Junior almost never acknowledged anyone except general Higgs, slouching in that throne of superiority she built with his and her mother’s help since she was in the academy. And now? Now she kept her eyes stuck and still on him. Him, who, back in the academy, was nothing more than a nuisance.

In a normal situation, such attention by nobody less than Sadie Junior Howard — and we’re talking about a mere minute of staring — would have pumped up his ego. Being acknowledged by her would have probably made him feel important, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t enjoy how that scrutinising gaze landed on him because Mars was organising a full conspiracy against every single one of her superiors?

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure, never detaching from eye contact with the other soldier. That would have been suspicious. 

Mars felt utterly exposed now — he couldn’t deny it. 

-

“So,” the General prompted again, his voice rising in both pitch and volume as if the topic he was about to bring up was way more interesting.

He rubbed his hands together and straightened his posture.

 “Thanks to the latest Research Missions, we were able to locate the areas where the minerals that Dr Howard was analysing are in higher quantities.” 

He turned towards the screen again, and continued. 

“One of those precious sediments is right under the north-eastern settlement.” He tapped on the map, his finger drumming right against the village out of the forest. “What a shame,” he added, his tone etched with something close to sarcasm, “When the weapons I requested, the village will be our first target.”

Mars gritted his teeth. Fantastic. Not that he didn’t know Higgs’ intentions, but still, the thought made him uneasy. It was a bit egoistical, perhaps, but if really Higgs wanted to commit an inevitable manslaughter, he’d rather unleash it on a village that wasn’t hosting the damn rebellion’s only base.

They needed to be quicker. Maybe it was already too late. They had eight months. In theory, a long time. Practically, it was barely more than a minute to organise a whole resistance against a military chief. 

And fuck, Junior kept watching him. 

“Though,” the General continued, “It is clear that a large-scale operation like that won’t stay unnoticed by the natives. Therefore, it is equally clear that it will be crucial, and I repeat, crucial” — he reiterated, his expression darkened as he leaned forward, placing his hands on the long metal table — “that we mustn’t raise any kind of suspicion before we’re ready for the mission. They might be savages, but they’re not blind. And if they feel threatened, it’s impossible to believe they won’t react.”

Scott exhaled and crossed his arms, and after a brief pause, he started pacing slowly around the table.

“I will not tolerate any other… incident like the one involving Maya Strauss.” He declared, his voice cold, and he stopped right behind Sadie’s chair. He rested both hands on the backrest, leaning slightly towards her. 

The first thing Mars noticed was how Junior’s whole body stiffened, became rigid. Her gaze finally left him. Something wasn’t right. It was almost like… she felt exposed as well. 

“I will have the curfew checks doubled.” 

And so, Higgs kept yapping. About resources, about weapons, plans, whatever. Yet, Mars’ brain was completely disconnected. Despite how much he fought against himself to stay concentrated, now he was completely focused on Junior. Her eyes, her body language, every shift in her behaviour. If she knew something — anything, really — the whole rebellion would have fallen like a castle of cards before its very birth. Saying that the balance was precarious was more than an understatement. He cursed in his mind. This whole plan was a dare, a complete gamble. 

Not long passed before the whole squad was dismissed, anyways. Mars exhaled a sigh of relief, but he couldn’t help but keep an eye on Higgs and, most of all, Junior.

As he always did, almost on ritual, the General stopped her in her tracks, keeping her inside for their usual post-meeting private chat. 

He never did it, but that day Mars felt tempted by the idea of eavesdropping. Studying her body language wasn’t enough to state with certainty if she knew about their plans, but if she did, he was sure she wouldn’t have hesitated to report it to Higgs, like a dog retrieving a bone to its owner. 

Mars rolled his eyes. Was there anybody in the academy who could stand Junior? Hell no. 

He pressed his back against the nearby wall, pondering his options. He could try to spy and eavesdrop, but the risk of getting caught was too high, and most of all, it would have only confirmed the allegations with the rebellion Higgs now hypothetically knew about. Mars shook his head. The idea of waiting, and already imagining the worst, was unbearable. But he couldn’t risk getting caught — it was too hazardous.

Too bad. If he couldn’t know with certainty, he had to force himself to ignore the problem. You can’t cure something you don't know. 

Let’s just hope for the best. I'll have my answer when I get executed for treason against humanity.

Mars sighed again, adjusting his glasses as he started walking towards his quarters. He walked slowly, his hands curled into tight fists as he absentmindedly chewed on his lip. 

Just go on and hope for the best.

He kept repeating it in his mind like a mantra, trying to make the stress dissolve, so lost in his mind every sound echoing around him seemed muffled. 

Just hope for the best, you’re acting for the greater good. 

Mars finally stopped in front of his door. His hand reached for the ID in his right pocket. He placed it on the scanner, a green light flashing as the card was checked by the machine. 

The metal door slid open. Mars exhaled. Finally, some peace and privacy. — He thought. 

Before he could step inside, his breath hitched instinctively, his whole body freezing.

A cold, hard object pressed right on his side. A gun.

“Don’t you dare move a single muscle, or you’re a dead man.”

A low, feminine voice he rarely heard. He turned his head, slowly.

Junior.

[b1ackbaccara]

to peel back the edges of the universe

Bombardier. Mercury. It wasn't a glamorous, sprawling metroswathe like much of the rest of Cradle's fulcrum worlds, but instead something more reminiscent of a weed pushing itself up between faults in asphalt, stubbornly growing out of necessity than careful cultivation.

There was something to be said for it, for humanity's proclivity to scrabble and grasp for survival, to flourish in the face of challenge and adversity--and while her younger mind couldn't grapple with all the complex particulars, that driving necessity took root early in the wake of their purpose here; the anchor for humanity's very first Dyson web. Without access to the sort of energy it provided, the crises across the galaxy would be catastrophic. Catastrophic.

It should have scared her, young as she was, but with how often her parents repeated their responsibility to their station, to Cradle, to humanity spoken with such reverence every time she lamented their absence without fail (until she stopped asking altogether)--how could it?

She'd say she understood, but she didn't, not until she saw the web. Really saw it.

While the only residential hub on Mercury, Bombardier's passages and facilities were still largely industrial, perfunctory spaces. There weren't windows and atriums and greenery--save for the hubs through which Union's officials would pass most often--as most of Bombardier was below ground, given Mercury's climate on the surface.

There was a passage, though, near her family's apartments. A long corridor that opened up like the elbow joint of a drain pipe, branching down into other residential passages. She remembers a few scattered tables, once-plush, curved leather benches lining the walls with grooves where people had sat on and off for decades, vidscreens with the latest station news alternating with programming beamed across the Omninet from Cradle.

She remembers the concrete flooring was shinier down the main thoroughfare, that she'd spend her limited amount of free time occasionally tracking up and down, playing at filling the shoes of her parents or their colleagues on some important mission or another for the Anchor (like defending it from invading mutant astronaut dinosaurs who she'd inevitably convince of the error of their ways and she'd get to ride up and down the hallways).

On one of those days, though, something had possessed her to lay out in the center of the little concrete plaza, staring up at a ceiling that vaulted far higher than she'd ever really noticed. Reinforced steel beams were criss-crossed by thick ropes of tied up cabling, recycled air hissed through slats in the massive, squared rows of ducts that spliced down the junction of each hallway. Electricity buzzed in the artificial lights, flickering almost imperceptibly, while the TV blathered on at a low drone.

She didn't notice any of it, though, peering up into what she'd always thought was a shadowy ceiling that terminated not in darkness, but light. It was high up enough that it didn't really cast light down, not below the artificial industrial lighting lining the hallways and the edges of the room in a harsher, off-white glow, but it was a massive porthole to what must have been the surface.

She could see the outline of thick bolts the size of her six-or-seven year-old head lining the edges, and whatever glass was up there was so thick that it cast a foggy haze over the sights beyond, blowing out the flickering strands of the Dyson web so each lit section looked more like a glowing bulb on a strand of holiday lights.

Like she was seeing cracks in the black expanse, fingers of gold trying to peel back the edges of the universe.

It was that moment, that spark of wonder and of terror that spurred her along the path her life would eventually take. Her parents might have planned to have her take up engineering, but while she internalized the responsibility and importance of caring for the Anchor on behalf of all humanity, she would eventually fly straight past it.

[izoatefashion]

Reflections of Glam: Elevate Your Space with Mirror Wall Art

Why Mirror Wall Décor Deserves a Spotlight

Let’s be real—your walls do a lot of heavy lifting. Art is essential, yes. But mirrors? They do double duty. Mirrors visually expand a room while offering an instant dose of glam, elegance, or minimalism—depending on how you style them. Whether you’re designing a cozy apartment or reimagining a luxe living room, mirror wall décor works across aesthetics.

1. Sculptural Mirror Installations: Bold & Architectural

Ready to push boundaries? Sculptural mirror panels—think staggered, oversized, or multi-paneled—bring architectural rhythm to your interiors. Choose smoked glass for a moody edge or gold-accented frames for high-glam drama.

These work beautifully above console tables or on expansive blank walls. Use them to create focal points that feel curated, not cluttered.

Pro Tip: Anchor large-scale mirrors with sleek furniture pieces in complementary tones. Think a marble-topped sideboard or a velvet bench—elevated, layered, and intentional.

2. Vintage Mirror Gallery Walls: Romantic & Reflective

There’s something inherently romantic about vintage mirrors—aged patina, curved frames, baroque detailing. Create a curated gallery wall using mismatched antique mirrors in different shapes and finishes. Go with gold, pewter, or even distressed wood.

This look is ideal for bedrooms, entryways, or any space that needs an eclectic, lived-in touch.

Style It With: Candle sconces, layered artwork, and fresh florals for that dreamy, Parisian apartment feel.

3. Minimalist Mirror Grids: Clean & Curated

For those who crave symmetry, minimalist mirror grids are a win. Install square or rectangular mirrors in clean rows—ideal for Scandinavian or modern interiors. The repetition creates structure while keeping the look elevated.

Stick with frameless styles or go full monochrome with black or white borders for high contrast.

Where to Try It: Dining rooms, office walls, or even a luxe bathroom accent.

4. Organic & Irregular Mirrors: Fluid & Modern

Mirrors don’t have to be perfectly shaped. Organic, wavy mirrors are trending in 2025 for their ability to soften hard lines and add a playful, fashion-forward element. From amorphous blobs to irregular sculptural cuts, these pieces feel like modern art with function.

Pair them with clean walls, neutral tones, and textural materials like linen or concrete for contrast.

Bonus Layer: Combine with floating shelves, asymmetrical lighting, or pampas grass for added

[sims-realty]

welcome to desert springs, the newest and most premiere lot in beautiful oasis springs. with its iconic butterfly roof and exquisite landscaping, the exterior of the home immediately catches your eye. enjoy the incredible mature cactus and succulent garden in the front yard that provides a natural barrier between your expansive front porch and pool entertainment area, with vintage pink terracotta tiles salvaged from a local home original to the area prior to its demolition on a lot nearby. a landscaped palm oasis welcomes you to the expansive backyard that separates the main house from the greenhouse. because of its humidity control, the greenhouse makes an excellent home for all of your exotic plants and gardening hobbies while also providing space for an office or art studio.

just inside the custom glass doors and windows, you'll be blown away by the custom built-in cabinet that separates the curated entryway (lit by a a truly unique - confirmed one-of-a-kind - chandelier) from the large living room designed for gatherings. the 360-degree fireplace anchors the living room and provides heat to the entire house on those chilly 55-degree desert evenings. custom accordion glass doors separate the living room and kitchen that also features the salvaged pink terracotta tiles. a handmade dining table gifted to the home's original owner by the artist natsukashii herself comes with the home and is highlighted by the second of the home's bespoke lighting fixtures. one thing this home doesn't lack is natural sunlight. from your kitchen enjoy the most beautiful view of your backyard oasis, filled with lavender bushes, cacti and palm trees.

this home features two bedrooms and one bathroom, recently remodeled. the guest bedroom features a cozy sitting area perfect for the bookworm in your family, without lacking adequate closet space. custom bed and shelving seamlessly flow together, making this bedroom an aesthetic retreat.

when you walk through the door adjacent to the guest bedroom, you'll take in the walk-through closet which opens to an expansive primary bedroom featuring a lounge area, natsukashii custom bed and living shelving. the primary bed looks out onto the back patio and a break in the sleek concrete and wood fence surrounding the property allows for uninterrupted south-facing mountain views. living shelving moves out from the primary bedroom onto the patio as well, ensuring that you're never far from green in this home.

desert springs is open for showings now, but don't delay because this gem won't be on the market for long. make this home your oasis in oasis springs.

cc used:

SYB: Fency, Astrid, Nathalie, Dreamy, Julie, Maya, Natsukashii, Laundry, Millenial, Pauline, Sabine, Manon, Diane, Cecile, Nothing to Wear, Agnes, Brigitte, Sophie, Elodie, Rosalie, Oceane, How About Tea

SIMcredible: Advent Calendar 2022, Vocatio, Agreste, Veranda, Amazonica, Emblema, Naturalis, Green Time, Pomeriggio, ScandiFever, TV Corner, Nuance, Coastal Plants, Bontempo, Bossa Nova, Calligaris, Zara, Keep Life Simple, Morning Tea, Ofuro, Breezy, MinimaliSIM, Clarity, Modernism, Chlorophyll, Mix It

Soloriya: Winnie

MincSims: Tara, Basset

Siomi's: Vault Avalon House II

Simsova: Plants, Plant Stands

Lapanemona: HEX

Comiko: Boho, Book Nook Zodiac

[pretty-princess-jeremy]

Let's transform a 0 point 0 1 square meter space into a functional house. Mannequin Mark lived frugally and worked diligently in a woodworking business for two years managing to save up half a million to buy a house in New York.

However, upon moving in, he was shocked by how small it was, tripping upon walking in but was saved by his childhood eagle. He couldn't even fit his grandma's coffin.

Poor Mark had to tie himself up to the doorframe to get a proper night's rest. He would lay on his eagle's and cry. Eventually, he got sick of it and decided for renovation.

Now, let's explore how we can help Mannequin Mark transform it into a functional home.

First, we'll construct a durable frame using galvanized square steel anchored firmly to the wall with expansion screws borrowed from his aunt filled with grid steel bars and concrete for lasting strength.

We'll also install thermally broken aluminum windows, expanding the living space by 2 square meters.

Next, we'll build a multifunctional sitting platform on the floor with hidden storage underneath for bulky items, saving precious space and providing a seating area for Mark and his husband, Wallter. This platform doubles as a comfortable bed that can fit two people, surrounded by cushion panels in blue and yellow for a better rest.

We'll add a movable table on the bed to serve as both a workspace and dining area, with an outlet switch nearby for charging devices, making it perfect for work and meals.

After use, the table can be stored beside the bed, keeping the space organized. Add a projector and projector screen so he can watch his Korean Dramas.

We'll then construct a bedframe from galvanized square steel, enhancing its appearance with eco-friendly wood veneers.

Incorporate a pre-buried drainage system for convenience. Build a set of wall cabinets with a countertop drilled to embed a sink. Underneath, install a build in washing-machine to keep dirty laundry at bay.

Convert the countertop for dual use by placing an induction cooker for cooking, and install a mirror cabinet above. Next to the mirror, add a cabinet for spices and toiletries. Install a showerhead on the wall and an enlarged stand, allowing even space to ride a horse while showering.

Now his tiny space has everything he needs

"Did tou just send me an entire fucking home decor story or whatever. For MANNEQUIN_MARK.?"

[auburniivenus]

I was ten years old when you were born. (modern)

In   this   moment,   as   daybreak   unfurls   its   lustrous   embrace   across   the   cerulean   expanse,   there   exists   a   marina.   Here,   serpentine   paths   of   concrete,   aged   as   gracefully   as   a   vintage   from   an   esteemed   vineyard,   curve   alongside   the   gentle   murmurs   of   the   watercourse—a   portal   to   the   immeasurable,   enigmatic   sea’s   heart.   Piers,   resembling   the   outstretched   limbs   of   veteran   mariners,   plunge   into   the   tender   caresses   of   the   waters,   anchoring   an   assembly   of   vessels   with   nylon   strands   to   age-old   cleats.

Water,   an   eternal   artisan,   molds   the   immense   stones   at   its   border   into   timeless   monuments   to   nature’s   dogged   perseverance.   Guardians   of   wood,   sheathed   in   protective   rubber,   stand   watch   over   the   ceaseless   affections   of   the   waves,   while   barnacles,   the   ocean's   inconspicuous   craftsmen,   adorn   the   pylons   at   the   waterline,   manufacturing   a   narrative   rich   with   maritime   heritage.   Metallic   ladders,   reminiscent   of   liquid   silver   streams,   plunge   into   the   depths,   bordered   by   relics   of   sea   life—containers   concealing   the   ordinary,   hoses   and   spigots   poised   to   quench,   and   receptacles   holding   the   echoes   of   humanity’s   dialogue   with   the   deep.

Amid   this   domain,   tools   of   safety   and   prudence   lay   in   quiet   expectation,   encircled   by   the   implements   of   fishing   ventures,   whispering   of   the   unseen   giants   beneath   the   blue   veil.   The   atmosphere   trembles   with   the   pious   dance   of   individuals   clad   in   beachwear,   who,   in   an   ancient   ceremony   as   perpetual   as   the   sea   itself,   prepare   their   vessels   for   the   voyage   into   the   open   waters   or   nurture   them   with   the   tender   care   of   salt   and   wax.   Sun   forms   a   spectacle   of   light   upon   Adam's   ale,   transforming   the   mediocre   into   a   vision   of   awe-inspiring   aesthetic.

They   wander,   in   pursuit   of   solace.   Eyes   deep   with   the   richness   of   caramel   roam,   moving   in   accordance   with   his   presence—a   symphony   of   coexistence   amidst   the   myriad   expressions   of   dasein.   Couples,   families,   children—each   imbues   the   marina   with   vibrancy,   their   laughter   and   conversations   a   rhythm   of   the   human   condition.   Some   stride   past,   casting   glances   that   linger,   admiring   the   synergistic   bond   between   them.   A   petulant   smile   rests   upon   her   lips   as   she   heeds   his   words,   her   complexion   a   study   in   reflection.   The   sweet   resonance   of   his   voice   shifts   her   attention   from   the   terrain   to   his   gaze. “Does   that   bother   you?”   The   concept   of   age,   so   inconsequential   and   yet   so   pivotal   in   societal   judgment,   had   never   dimmed   her   spirit.   Yet,   she   wondered—perhaps   not   for   her,   but   what   of   him?   In   a   realm   often   swift   to   judge,   might   their   union   be   viewed   as   an   act   of   askance?   “I   don’t   really   care   about   what   others   think.   We   are   doing   nothing   wrong.”

@estarion - modern

[thetrinitarianmystery]

A Wave: On Love and Individuality

This is the oldest poem in my collection—the first I wrote as a freshman in college. It was indeed a “starting point for thought” for me.

It was winter when I wrote it. There was a place I would go to think, a little nook in the rocks on the shoreline in a small town near Boston. I would watch the waves crash and break at my feet for hours on end, until the cold or the tide dictated that I should go home.

At the time I was grieving a close relationship, studying physics and theoretical mathematics at university, and reading such figures in classical Chinese philosophy as the Laozi, Confucius, and Zhuangzi.

Amidst this expansion of my worldview, I needed a place to anchor my thought. I felt that I was swimming in new concepts, and I needed a basic way to hold what I had known and what I was learning. I anchored my understanding in a great and generative paradox.

At once, the wave is entirely and only itself; it is irreducibly individual. Even the concept of a “wave” is an abstraction, a many-to-one mapping of real facts to a neat concept that ignores the “suchness,” or haecceity, of each wave itself—that irreducible individuality that escapes full linguistic or mathematical capture.

At the same time, there is no clear division between a wave and the rest of the ocean. It is part-and-whole simultaneously. One can draw a division, but the border is shifting, permeable, and ultimately arbitrary.

I began to notice that the division between myself and the rest of Reality (and by “Reality” I mean, “that which IS, prior to anything we may say about it”) has a similar character.

Once I have declared my borders (my skin, perhaps) in any given moment, I as a subset of Reality have an irreducible individuality. I may be conceptualized many ways, but I retain my haecceity, my unique “suchness.”

At the same time, I am part-and-whole of all that is, as the wave is to the ocean. Wherever I draw the line between self and Other, there is a blending and an interchange—a dance of sorts. The “Other” is continuous with and in constant interchange with “self.” This is a coordinated process of being and becoming.

What does this mean for us, concretely?

Well for one, this idea is experiential: let it be a starting point for thought, and see what comes of it.

See if you can notice that when you conceive of your self, your ego, you do so in relation to some imagined Other. You mutually conceptualize the agent and the arena, to borrow cognitive scientist and philosopher John Vervaeke’s terminology.

Now realize that that Other is not alien from and discontinuous with your self, but likewise part-and-whole of the same unified Reality.

If you’ll indulge it, notice too that in this very moment I am coming to you as that Other, with a message of great love and good tidings.

Indeed, when I started posting my poetry, I had no followers and no engagement. I was very much casting “a stone at the wave in my conceit.” It seems now that the olivine sea has carried the wave to break on your shore.

Let us marvel at how beautiful the world can be.

[foxxydevil]

Lace & Silken Shadows

So this is a lil something something I'm cooking up because I have mega brain rot. This should be a longer fic, maybe even pretty slow burn-y.

The basic principle is that Alexia, a young destitute female college graduate, gets accepted into the Alchemax bioengineering internship under Dr Miguel O'Hara. She struggles with her abusive home life, making ends meat, and her judgmental pain in the ass lab supervisor who stirs feelings in her she can not even begin to understand and he clearly has a few secret second lives of his own.

Fem!OC/Miguel O'Hara third person dark romance + superhero shenanigans

Word count: 8.6k

Content warnings ⚠️

Past child abuse, sexual trauma, prostitution, discussed current sexual abuse, mild injuries due to abuse, abuse denial, age gap, mentor/student relationship, BDSM

The Boomtown Rats droned a particularly fitting chorus in Alexia’s ear as she took the 9 train, shooting through the dim green pre dawn expanses interrupted by the bright concrete and glass structures of Nueva York.

Tell me why?

I don't like Mondays

Tell me why?

I don't like Mondays

I want to shoot

The whole day down

Grim, she thought and yawned into her hand, a wrist looped through one of the few loops hanging from the ceiling to anchor oneself with. And still, fitting. Nerves coil in her stomach, twisting her guts onto a winch with rhythmic efficiency. It wasn’t hard to feel like she was making the wrong choice, again, as hunger roiled in her stomach and she could almost feel the disgusting rubberized anti-slip flooring of the train through the thinning soles of her shoes.

Accepting the scholarships to go to college had been stupid, even if it had covered some living expenses, but an unpaid post graduate internship?

Alexia's mom's screams of how selfish she was still stung in her ears.

Her heavily pregnant sister-in-law's sneer burned into the backs of her eyes.

Somehow the bruises on her back and the way her shoulder ached as she held onto the wrist strap didn’t seem nearly as bad as the words that had bloomed just as deep on repeat in her mind when her brother had shoved her into the doorframe.

“Selfish little princess.”

“So you're just going to let us all starve for your useless BS?”

“I have done nothing but care for you under this roof since dad died. All you do is take and think you're so much better than us.”

Those memories of screaming and shoving from the last few weeks since she had told them the news about being accepted into the internship program crowded her mind, distracting her from the other morning commuters.

Their own little girl

Sweet 16 ain't so peachy keen

No, it ain't so neat to admit defeat

They can see no reasons

'Cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need?

I can give you at least 3 good reasons, Bob Geldof, she thought as the band launched into the repeating chorus once more and the train drove into a tunnel, transforming the window into a dim mirror.

Fuck, were the bags under her eyes always that obvious? And were the windows smudged or did her bun really have that many drab colored flyaways.

At least she was running a comfortable - more like overly anxious - hour early for the first day of her Alchemax internship. She could probably fix herself up a little nicer in a Starbucks bathroom if they didn't require a purchase. She couldn't afford the dollar menu for breakfast much less a 5$ coffee that would only turn her empty stomach gurgling into agonizing cramps.

And daddy doesn't understand it

He always said she was as good as gold

And he can see no reasons

'Cause there are no reasons

What reason do you need to be shown?

Sorry daddy, it's been a couple of years. You probably wouldn’t recognize me anymore. I had to sell all my gold to keep the house.

It was a bittersweet feeling thinking of her dad today. He may not recognize her, but she hoped he would understand what she had to do, that she had to do it for both of their dreams to come true.

Growing up, before she could even walk on her own, her dad had taken Alexia to work with him, boasting about how she was a junior engineer, and someday, she'll work there too.

And today was that day.

As she stepped off the train, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She glances up at the towering building that houses Alchemax and couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of starting her internship finally, after all the work she had done to stand there.

Of course it wasn't the first time she had stood in this very spot. Aside from the interviews for the internship, her father had been one of their top engineers. He'd even run his own lab.

Alexia grinned to herself as she walked across the plaza to the crowded chain coffee shop. A line snaked out of the building despite the early hour but she wasn't there to order. She walked to the front counter.

"Bathroom code?" Alexia asked the already tired looking barista and coiled the kinked white plastic headphone cord around her ancient, barely working, mp3 player before shoving it into her ancient canvas backpack.

He gave her a blank stare before reluctantly rattling off the code. Alexia thanked him and quickly made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She washed her face with cold water and tried to tidy her hair as best she could. She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. You can do this, she told herself. You can succeed.

She grimaced at the too small, too off white, button up shirt she wore, the very last button hole secured with a safety pin. One of her brother's friends had popped the plastic button off the other night while tearing at the cheap yellowing fabric with an urgency that still flashed through her mind accompanied with a surge of fear that made her want to heave her empty stomach into the sink.

Her skirt wasn't in much better condition. Despite being black originally it had a gray-ish worn out tinge from being washed a few too many times, having outlived its destined fast fashion lifespan. She knew she should have been wearing sheer tights under it, the expected clean look of a Nueva York business woman, but she hadn't owned an intact pair in years.

Alexia sighed and splashed some more water on her face, as if she could wash away the negative thoughts. She had spent too long letting her circumstances define her, elegant sheer tights or not she was making a new life for herself.

Even being 45 minutes early to her scheduled office hours she decided to head into the intimidatingly dark Alchemax building across the brick courtyard anyways. The front receptionist hadn't even laid out all the badges for new interns on the desk yet, a group of about two dozen hopeful headshots looking up at her from their plastic sleeves growing one by one in neat rows.

Alexia was the only one of the group that had the designation "bioengineering" printed in an all caps cobalt font under her portrait. While Alchemax pursued many scientific fields, none were quite as selective as bioengineering, she had earned high marks in her college courses even with her unusual work schedule to qualify for the prestigious field and stand out among all the other applicants. She grinned as she snagged up the card, a renewed sense of pride warming her chest to push out the fear and anxiety.

“Dr O’Hara already came in a few minutes ago. You can head up to the 15th floor rather than wait. I’m sure he’s not preparing a presentation for you anyways,” the receptionist said, shaking Alexia from her thoughts.

Was that a sympathetic or pained look in her eyes? Oh shit-

“Oh- yeah for sure no point in the full production for just one intern,” Alexia answered with a lopsided grin, trying to sooth her nerves with some humor, give herself more of a chance to see if the receptionist was hinting at a far less dire reason she shouldn't bother waiting.

The look the receptionist gave her was definitely sympathy, that and pity. The look one gave someone who was terminal.

Alexia laughed nervously before turning to make her way to the elevator, not having to wait for the direction to go past the center escalator in the hall and to the row of silver doors hidden behind it. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain in her gut again. She could only hope that she would be able to meet the expectations of her mentors and live up to her father's legacy and dreams for her. The elevator doors opened and she stepped in, her heart pounding in her chest.

While most of the other interns would be directed to a variety of conference rooms for their first day and introduction to the company, she was to go directly to the lab. Dr O'Hara, it would seem, did not have a separate office space or need for a larger room.

That sympathetic cringe the receptionist had given her set her mind spinning with worry again. She pictured a stern and intimidating figure, someone who would judge her based on her appearance and pedigree, not on her abilities and work ethic. As she walked down the hallway after a gut lurching short trip up, her footsteps echoed in the silence, the sound of her own breathing deafening as it crowded out every thought with beginnings of an anxiety attack lurking in the recesses of her mind.

A deep voice called out to her from a nearby room. "Hey- are you the new intern?"

Alexia looked over to see a dark haired man standing in the doorway, his suit neatly pressed and tie perfectly knotted. He stared at her, his eyes tired with dark bags that emphasized his already deep set eyes with thick brows hooding his narrowed eyes as if he was already over this interaction, annoyed at the inconvenience of her very existence.

"Yes! Alexia-"

"Uh," she realized her mistake almost immediately as the pause drew out just slightly too long to add her last name naturally, introducing herself by her first name alone. She narrowly avoided her legs tangling under her as she made the sharp stop and turn, walking with a confident proud stride that didn’t exactly match the restricted proper stride of most pencil skirts, the material too worn out to give her the ladylike gait.

Her hand stretched out in an offered handshake. "Alexia Gates."

The man stared at her hand for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he reached out and gripped her hand firmly, his gaze returning to hers.

"Dr O'Hara," he answered, his voice low and gravelly. "You’re early, that's something. Let's get to the lab."

His voice had a rhythmic quality, a scripted practice that hinted at a cool ego he hadn't expected him to be so- large. She never thought of herself as short. Alexia stood a respectable 5'6, neither tall nor tiny. Dr O'Hara dwarfed her, not only because he was at least a foot taller than her but because he was twice her weight, pure muscle. His face wasn’t unfamiliar of course, she had looked him up in the college library almost as soon as she had received her acceptance letter with her program details, but his presence online had been limited to a short corporate bio along with a portrait that was only a few years older than the portrait that glowered at her from the badge clipped to his chest, clearly not one for social media or media engagement in general.

She nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. It was a bad habit, one that sometimes led to the iron tang of blood in her mouth but people rarely noticed, not paying much attention to her face in her field of work.

"Right, yes. The lab," Alexia agreed.

As they started to walk her eyes assessed her new mentor, picking up any details she could glean from his movements alone. Dr O'Hara didn’t so much as walk as he prowled, his shoulders were massive and rolled forward. It wasn't quite in the same way that most tall men seemed to have a permanently shrinked hunch to their posture, used to training themselves into a less intimidating posture, but like Atlas balancing the sky on his shoulders.

They reached the lab without another word while Alexia considered if she was supposed to say something, to make a good impression on the man that the receptionist had seemed to regard as her executioner. She thought better of it as Dr O'Hara tapped his badge to the door lock and held the door for her, gesturing for her to take a seat at his desk at the far side of the room.

She walked ahead of him, feeling his strangely red eyes burning into her back.

Not red, she told herself. A weird brown like clay, people don’t have red eyes.

She slid into the chair, crossing her legs instinctively and placing her hands, one on top of the other, on her knees. It was a defensive position, closed off and protective of her core. Her green eyes followed him as he made his way to the mesh desk chair on the other side of the wide cluttered desk, too focused on deciding if he was a threat or not to take a good look at the rest of the lab.

Of course he was a threat in her mind, look at him.

Alexia launched into the empty pleasant words she knew most men with an ego liked. If she wanted to learn and drag herself into a new life, she could stroke some egos and make pleasant sounds at self important men. If she wanted to survive this world instead of rotting away on the streets, she had to stay on her toes. She couldn't afford Starbucks coffee, much less useless pride.

"I appreciate the opportunity to work with you-"

"Save the pleasantries, Ms Gates. We have a lot of work to do." Dr O'Hara cut her off mid-sentence, his tone sharp and biting,

Her eyes narrowed as her mouth slowly closed, forgetting those little niceties. Ok, maybe fuck not having pride.

"It's called manners, Dr O'Hara. Some of us have them," she answered, voice clipped, before she could stop herself. She knew her greatest downfall was her inability to shut up when annoyed. Even still, she didn't apologize or show any outward signs of regretting the words.

She could already tell the man in front of her wasn't used to getting any lip back, it would probably do him some good and humble him a bit if he didn’t fire her immediately.

Miguel, the name she had gleaned from his online bio since he hadn’t given her his first name, leaned forward in his chair, his eyes boring into her, "Ms Gates, let's be clear. I am not interested in your pleasantries or your opinions. I am here to work, and I expect you to get in line in my lab and not interrupt my day. I did not request an intern, nor am I interested in putting on a kids' lab day. You will stay out of my way and entertain yourself, making yourself useful whenever possible."

A shiver ran down her spine at his direct cold statement. His words had an almost rhythmic quality, the only hint at an accent that matched his tiger eye skin. She idly wondered why everything about him seemed hard as stone from his grinding voice, to his garnet eyes that definitely had to be a normal brown in a more natural lighting.

"I am not here to be your simpering lackey. I'm here to learn hands on and earn my credits, the actual point of an internship. I expect to be respected as a graduate intern who is here on merit and not pay, not treated like a clueless brat," she pushed back, unable to help herself even though every instinct in her told her to shut up or he would lash out and do what men do, take what they desire regardless of what she needs.

Miguel's eyes narrowed as he considered her words, "I respect your determination, Ms Gates, but I will not stand for insubordination. Here’s your first lesson, don’t talk that way to the person who will decide whether or not you actually get a job in this company."

"I will be your lab intern, run any tests or data you like," she agreed, but her eyes were still hard, matching the gemstone hardness of his eyes piercing into her, still determined to lay down her boundaries and not be dismissed when she knew she was worth this internship. "- but I am not some secretary or personal assistant. I do not run around for coffee orders or your dry cleaning."

Alexia was stubborn to a fault, her foot tapping in the air to an anxious beat and flashing the worn-out bottoms of her soles, unintentionally drawing attention to her less than fashionable attire. Dr O'Hara studied her for a moment, his face the picture of exhaustion despite the day just beginning.

“Well, you actually will be doing that. That’s what an intern is. Or did you think we just hired some fresh out of school kids for the fun of it?” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“You take on fresh out of school adults to learn in the field so we can earn a paid position. I wouldn't call an unpaid internship employment, Dr O'Hara,” Alexia countered, holding perfectly still. She would stand her ground and not give him an inch, but she wasn’t relaxed enough to put on a confident swagger.

“Call it whatever you want, chica. I call it ‘being used’. Welcome to the real world,” he answered, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Oh, I am plenty experienced with how the real world likes to use people up,” Alexia scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “I was under the impression that Alchemax cultivates brilliance, not wastes it.”

“They like the idea of cultivating brilliance. But when it comes to actually doing it- well, that’s a completely different ball game.”

“Maybe drop the bitter tone when you are the one refusing to cultivate. You have one intern, not a herd like the other departments, I'm sure there are far more useful things for me to help with than running errands,” Alexia countered, hoping a little reasoning would work on her reluctant mentor.

“You know, you’re exactly like every other intern. You think you’re so special, that you’re gonna change this place, but you’re just the same as all of the others- in over your head and going nowhere,” Dr O’Hara observed with cruelty and his latin accent became a little more noticeable as his annoyance grew, “I bet in a month’s time, your so called ‘brilliance’ won’t be worth a dime and if anyone remembers you at all it’ll just be as the office coffee girl.”

“I won't be changing this place, but my work will change the world. Not because I'm special, but because I am determined and unlike the other pedigree kids, I need this. They can drop out and cry to their parents. I need the paid offer after the internship,” Alexia spat out, vaguely aware that she shouldn’t be showing so much frustration even as she leaned forward in her chair.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, cure Huntington's disease? You think we take pity on kids who need this? You think we’re gonna hire you just because you have ‘need’ on your resume? That’s not how it works, chica.”

“There is a difference between need and want, Dr O'Hara,” Alexia said through clenched teeth. “When an animal wants, it makes big pouty eyes and begs. When an animal needs, it will chew off its own leg. Nothing stands in the way of its need. I need this and that's what sets me apart. I will do anything I need to to learn and rise above.”

“Sounds like you’ve got drive, which is more than most people,” Dr O’Hara admitted, his brows rising slightly. Was he impressed? “Maybe you’ll make something of yourself in this world after all. But if you want my advice? You’d better take that energy you’re putting into selling yourself- and put it into not pissing me off.”

‘Selling yourself’, that hit a little too close to home for Alexia and she just barely held back a wince.

“Show me an ounce of basic respect for a mentee, and I will respect you as a mentor,” she countered, hating the common demand for respect by men worth far less than the clothes on their back.

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those. You want respect? How ‘bout earn it?” he smeared, his full lips turning up into an amused grin that was closer to a snarl.

“Ah, so you mean ‘treat me like a God or I won't treat you like a person’ when you say 'earn respect’?” Alexia leaned back in her chair again with a roll of her eyes, any hope for finding something worthwhile in the man in front of her gone.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” the older man growled, clearly not enjoying the image she was painting of him. “If you want me to do something for you- like say, teaching you instead of letting you run and fetch- then let me see if you’re actually capable of doing things for me. You think I’m gonna tell my bosses and my colleagues that I should hire you because I feel bad for you? That’s not how things work here. So yeah, earn it.”

“Oh, I am more than ready to earn your recommendation,” Alexia said, standing up and placing her palms flat on his desk. “I am qualified for this internship, I can collect and compile data for you and make base analysis for you to review. I earned this internship by being at the top of my course. ‘Go and fetch’ unfortunately wasn't covered.”

“You know, you’ve got more spunk than any of these other interns I’ve had,” he observed, sounding near defeated or just exhausted. “Fine. Collect some data for me and write me up an analysis, and you can work with me in the field instead of doing coffee runs. You got 48 hours.”

Alexia nodded, a little self satisfied and victorious smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She felt proud for standing up to herself and, from all appearances, gaining an ounce of Dr O'Hara's respect.

Despite herself she felt a growing need for more than him simply relenting to her stubbornness. She felt a desire to make him proud of her as well. She wanted to be more than just an annoying student to him. Alexia wanted him to see her as a peer. As these thoughts swirled in her mind, she barely noticed Dr O'Hara walked around his desk and approached her.

"Now, let's get started on your training, Ms Gates."

She straightened her back as he walked up to her, feeling a tinge of nervousness at his approach. Standing straighter didn't exactly help all that much.

"What would you have me do, Dr O'Hara?" she asked, falling into the comfortable familiarity of referring to him just as she had her professors before graduating college. While she was now 23, it was hard to peg down exactly how old Miguel O'Hara was, though it was safe to say he had at least a decade on her. She couldn't help but feel intimidated by his height and presence, but she did her best not to let it show. Miguel looked at her, his eyes piercing and intense.

"Follow me, Ms Gates. I have something I need to discuss with you." He led her through the lab, his lack of hesitation showing his confidence that she would follow his orders.

Alexia did all but scramble after him, gritting her teeth in annoyance with his tendency to leave her behind and expect her to chase after him already. Within a few steps, she had caught up to him, so that she walked only a step behind him, glaring at the middle of his back, the pure white expanse of his lab coat annoying her.

As they walked through the lab, she could hear the sound of his leather shoes against the tiled floor, the sound echoing through the lab. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to her, his face unreadable.

"Ms Gates, I want you to lift your skirt." He said, his voice calm and collected, as if he hadn’t just made a demand so out of the blue, Alexia swore she heard a phantom record scratch. Maybe it was just the blade of disappointment that sliced through her mind, destroying the small inkling of hope that had warmed her only for a moment.

"What?!"

She had to skid to a stop, stumbling back a few steps. She realized they had gone around a corner, no longer visible from the only entrance in the lab. Her eyes burned with fury, her assumptions of him clear as day. She saw him as just another horny man who thought he could take from her.

But he pointed to a yellowed bruise on the inside of her thigh that was just barely visible under her skirt.

"I want you to show me the bruises on your body," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I need to know if they are a result of consensual... interactions, or if they are something else. As your mentor I have a vested interest in ensuring my employees are in a safe environment."

Alexia's face burned. Not just mortified but ashamed of how quickly he'd noticed, how careless she'd been. She was not about to admit to this intimidating stranger, a man she wanted to respect her, that there were many more and they had absolutely not been her choice. The absolute absurdity of this sudden shift sent her mind spinning.

"I think this is highly inappropriate, Dr O'Hara," she fumed, hoping her anger portrayed her as a woman who was embarrassed, not guilty of his assumptions. "I think what the state of my body is is none of your business."

Miguel eyed her as he considered her words. "Ms Gates, I am your employer, and I expect a certain level of professionalism and trust from you. I will not stand for insubordination or dishonesty." He stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"And I will not be exposing myself at my workplace," she hissed between clenched teeth, her fists balling at her sides and refusing to back down even a single inch.

"You will not touch me, Dr O'Hara," she sneered, assuming his approach was to force her compliance. "You will not touch me, do you understand?"

He cocked his head, his nostrils flaring and it was as if her words were a physical strike that he flinched back from.

"Ms Gates, I understand a situation like this could be misinterpreted, but I do not intend to touch you. I assure you that when you show me these bruises, I will respect your boundaries."

To Alexia's surprise he clearly seemed offended, possibly hurt, at the accusation she had thrown her way.

Her face heated as she looked down, her eyes burning into his chest without actually seeing him.

"That bruise is the only one, a clumsy accident," she tried to explain, blatantly lying through her teeth and hoping he would just back off even if she had to portray herself as a clutz. "I'm fine, really. You don't need to worry about it."

Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, his face pulled into hard lines of barely controlled restraint. "Ms Gates, this is a non-negotiable for my employment. That was the last time you will ever lie to me," he paused, and Alexia could hear the unspoken threat hanging between his words. “Tell me you understand. If you wish to be taught by me, I need you to show me these bruises, otherwise you can leave."

It was unexpected for her, the mere option of refusing his demand. Of course, she would lose her dream if she did not comply, but he wasn't going to force her. He was giving her a choice.

"I understand," she gritted out, feeling so much more like a chastised child than a grown woman being told to expose herself, and somehow, as absurd as it seemed, it helped. It made her feel like he genuinely wasn't just trying to leer at her, but was a protective figure trying to gauge her situation to see if she was safe.

"What are you worried about?" Dr O'Hara asked, his voice kept low but it was impossible to tell if he was trying to be soothing or if he was holding back rage, maybe both.

"You, Dr O'Hara- you worry me."

"Elaborate, Ms Gates," he continued to push at her, making her open her thoughts to him.

“You’re smart and strict like my previous professors, you clearly have the qualifications and experience to be a fantastic mentor in this program, but you have the approach and temperament of a barbaric di-” she suddenly cut herself off, realizing she was letting her own temper get her into more potential trouble.

“Language is permissible in my lab, Ms Gates,” he allowed, apparently not considering her words a sign of disrespect this time. “As long as it’s used constructively.”

She narrows her eyes right back. “I was going to say dickhead, but I’m not sure if that's entirely constructive.”

“Give me an example of my alleged behavior, and I’ll decide.”

"You just hauled me around to a private corner and told me to lift my skirt with no explanation or warning beforehand. Asking about the bruise first would have been the least you could do," she snapped, fidgeting with the stretched hem of her skirt with her fingers.

“This is just an examination, for your own good. Nothing inappropriate," he insisted instead, his sheer mass uncompromising. “I’m waiting.”

She starts lifting the hem of her shirt up to uncover her torso, just below her breasts so he could see the band of her black bra but nothing more. Around her hips, only a few days ago, there were more bruises, clear marks of a painful grip but they had faded, he couldn't see anything.

"See, nothing." She said, her voice strained as she tried to keep it together. "I'm fine."

He lowered himself into a squat, his gaze traveling over Alexia's torso, the low waistband of her skirt, then dropping to the knee-length hem. “Now raise your skirt.”

His bent position puts him eye-level with her pelvis, despite his hulking size, and she was momentarily distracted by the soft curls of his dark brown hair, as if her mind was trying to slip away from this dangerous situation rather than experience it.

Physically, he was in an unusual position for a man in her experience. He was lower than her, his face below her waist. More vulnerable, right? She tried to reason in her own mind. Yet he was still trying to take in a way. Alexia could knee him in the nose and run. But the need or want wasn't quite rising up the way she expected it to.

Alexia bunched her skirt up with both fists, lifting it only three inches above her knees, stubbornly refusing to expose herself any more as she kept her gaze lowered, not meeting his eyes.

"Ms Gates, please. This is not an interrogation. I just need to know if there are any other marks on your body that should not be there."

His voice whispered roughly into the foot of space separating his face and her thighs. His hands were there, too, dangling between them, close enough to grab her between the legs if that was his plan. A slight tremble twitched through his fingers, and her shoulders tightened. She shook her head after hesitating, a clear lie but she couldn't voice it. She'd promised herself she wouldn't show weakness.

"Alexia," Miguel said, his tone becoming more stern, as he took in her discomfort. "Keep lifting your skirt."

Alexia took a deep, shaky breath, forcing herself to look down at him. She tried her best to focus past her humiliation.

She lifted her skirt more, until the worn out blackish gray fabric was just barely concealing the purple cotton of her panties.

“Widen your stance.”

She slid her feet out, wobbling with the effort just to keep breathing.

“Just like that,” he breathed, his voice as low as sin. “Good girl.”

His praise wrapped around her like a warm hug. Alexia couldn't remember the last time someone embraced her without hurting her, but if Dr O'Hara spent the next nine months calling her a good girl, she might never need a hug again. The sensation of fear and comfort was dizzying. Who was this man, and why was she not running?

He dipped his head, angling closer. “I’m looking for marks on your inner thighs.”

There were in fact more bruises, some more obvious in their origin than others. Some teeth and some hands. Others were just angry splotches of sickly color.

Alexia's face stayed carefully blank, not revealing the nature of the marks on her skin as she digested her own whirlwind of emotions.

Miguel's eyes scanned her body, his expression remaining as unreadable as her own.

"Alexia," he said, his voice low and commanding. Was that the first time he said her first name? No, he said it before too. She was again distracted, this time by the sound of her name on his lips. "I'll remind you that I need you to be completely honest with me, at all times."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, fighting to focus.

"Ok, Dr O'Hara," she answered, her voice stiff, only robotic as she stood in front of him, her thighs completely exposed, staring him down with her steely green eyes. "I understand."

Miguel nodded, his eyes back on hers, the impossible dark red hue seeming to boil with some heat she could not place with confidence.

"I need to know if these bruises are a result of consensual interactions, or if they are something else."

"I wasn't raped," Alexia said firmly, defensively even as if she was insulting her for even insinuating that 'weakness'. Everything in her face said she believed that she was being honest. But the lack of elaboration was concerning. She hadn't said no. She hadn't fought back. She had allowed it to happen. She had allowed it to happen again and again.

Miguel's expression darkened, his eyes never leaving hers. "You don't need to be defensive, Alexia. I just want the truth."

She pulled her skirt back down, preferring the anger that boiled in her stomach to the uncertainty of not understanding his motives and the feelings his words stirred in her.

"None of this is any of your concern, Dr O'Hara," she repeated, emphasizing his name to put distance between them when he had slipped into using her first name. "I can handle my own probleMsms."

Miguel took a step towards her, his eyes still locked on hers. "Alexia, you can't handle this on your own. You need help, and I'm here to give it to you."

"I am here to intern in your lab," she shot back, teeth bared like a snarling wolf. "I would appreciate it if we could refocus this orientation on your work in the lab and not my personal life."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his words turning cold once more, "Don't try to change the subject, Alexia. I won't allow it." He takes another step towards her, his body tense as if ready to fight.

"You don't have a choice in what is or isn't allowed," she answered, standing firm but crossing her arms under her chest, feeling cornered despite having the option to turn and run. "I am just an intern here, Dr O'Hara. I don't have to submit to your demands."

Miguel's eyes flash with anger, but he quickly regains his composure.

"On the contrary, Ms Gates. This is my lab, and you are my intern. You will submit to questions and my interest in your safety, or you will no longer be my intern."

Alexia bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room as she contemplated her options.

"Fine," she snapped, her eyes meeting his again. He wanted to ask questions? He could ask questions. It wouldn't be her fault if the answers made him uncomfortable.

"I wasn't assaulted. I allowed it to happen. I allowed it to happen again and again," her voice was cold and detached, as if she was recounting a grocery list rather than speaking about something so personal.

"Unfortunately I don't take coworkers or supervisors as clients, so you're out of luck," she sneered, needing the biting edge to sooth her own insecurity, bring her back from the dark pool of dissociation that drew her in with a different kind of comforting embrace.

Miguel's eyes widened slightly, his composure broken for the moment.

"That's not what I asked, Alexia," he said, his voice calm but with a hint of warning. "I asked you to be honest with me, and I expect nothing less."

"I am being honest. Are you fishing for proof? Trying to see how open I'd be to you toying with me?" Her question sounded like a taunt, another jab to get him to back off, but something in her eyes said that was truely what she thought of him.

Miguel shook his head, his expression softening slightly. "No, Alexia. I'm not fishing for proof. I simply want to know what happened so that I can better help you." He stepped closer to her again, his eyes locked on hers.

This time she did step back. His tenderness seemed to scare her more than his harsh words. Anger was easy and predictable, his kindness screamed of tempting manipulation. A facet of masculinity she did not see often and trusted less.

"Fuck off, Dr O'Hara." She spat, turning to leave.

Miguel caught her arm, his grip firm but gentle.

"Alexia, please. Let me help you." He pleaded, his voice low and earnest. "I care about you, and I want to make sure that you are safe."

She huffed, indignant, and turned to leave.

A man she barely knew, caring for her? BS

Miguel held her arm, his grip firm but gentle, stopping her from leaving. "Don't walk away from me, Alexia."

She whipped around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. His strength was overwhelming, even just his arm on hers wouldn't budge an inch as she tried to yank away. Still, this was much more comfortable.

"Don't enjoy the view?" She sneered. "You should focus on your work, Dr O'Hara. I don't need your protection."

Miguel's grip on her arm tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he leaned in close, his eyes intense and focused on her.

"Here’s today's lesson," he erased the distance between them leaning into her space. "Don’t question me. Don’t lie to me. And never look away from me." He straightens. "Sit down."

He pulled one of the lab chairs towards them, angling it for Alexia to sit. They were ridiculous demands and yet she found herself sitting.

"If you slip up, I will punish you," he promised, his voice low and dangerous. "I do not accept excuses or sniveling. Any distractions, any problems in your life affect our lab work and I will leave my own welts on your pretty ass." He punctuated his words with an intensity and confidence that shocked her, had he really just said that?

Alexia swallowed hard, feeling a mix of fear and arousal. She hated being bossed around, but she also found herself drawn to the power in Miguel's words.

Her pupils expanded as she looked up at him. Approval shone in his face at whatever he saw in hers. He smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Good girl," he said again, the two words sparking through her veins. His voice had softened again as he released her. "Now, let's get back to work." He turned as if to go somewhere, but paused to look back over his shoulder. "And make sure you wear a damn damn lab coat."

It was far from the first time she had been referred to as a good girl. Generally the words felt demeaning, more insulting than genuine. The warm tension in her stomach, the tension that shot further down, made her crave those words in a maddening confusing way.

She shook her head, trying to shake off the feeling like a mutt shaking of the rain rain.

"I- I don't have a lab coat," she said, flushing with embarrassment.

"I didn't say you had to have one, you have to wear one," he said, his eyes holding on to her with a raised brow, not quite grasping what the issue was.

She felt the fire in her stomach lessen, but she still felt flushed.

"I don't have one-" she repeated.

"Get one," he interrupted her as if she answer was obvious and she was simply dull.

"Can it wait until the beginning of the month? I don't have the cash right now..." she clenched her jaw, muscles tightening. She'd been hoping to get a new pair of shoes now that she'd be on her feet all day again. Well, not new, just newer. She'd get lucky if she found a lab coat at goodwill with it not being Halloween.

Miguel sighed, his expression softening slightly but annoyance at this petty inconvenience pulled at his face, irking Alexia.

"Alright, I'll cover it for now," he said, pulling out his wallet. "But you have to manage your finances better. We can't have our brightest minds distracted by trivial matters."

Her pride choked her off, but not only her pride. In her life, there was only one reason a man did kind things, and that was to put a woman into debt to him so he could demand from her body.

"So kind of you," she said, sarcastically. "But I don't rely on charity, Dr O'Hara. I will keep your brilliant financial advice in mind."

Miguel narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening again.

"I don't give charity, Alexia. I expect something in return." He stepped forward, his body inches from hers. "And if you don't deliver, we will have a problem."

This time she did lean back, her hackles raised.

"That is exactly what I was worried about. I have no interest in delivering on any of your disgusting demands," she snapped back. It was maybe presumptuous of her to imagine his expected payment as lewd but that was her experience with life, the evidence of that were in the bruises under her clothes that he had seen. She couldn't afford to be naive.

Miguel's expression darkened, his jaw clenching with anger. "You have no idea what you're dealing with, Alexia," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I think we both know that I have a very good idea of what I'm dealing with, Miguel," she shot back, matching his tone. If he was going to insist on using her first name then he would get the same, regardless of his preferences. "I will not be put in the position of being indebted to a man who thinks he can take what doesn't belong to him."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his expression cold. "I will make you an offer, Alexia," he said, his voice low and calculated.

"Enlighten me," she ground out, too curious not to hear his offer though it was clear from the tension in her shoulders that she already planned to reject it.

Miguel took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. "I will give you a clean slate," he said. "No more debts, no more bruises. I will help you rise above your circumstances and become the successful woman I know you can be." He paused, his eyes holding hers.

"I will be doing that regardless of your help," she answered stubbornly. It was a tempting offer, as Alchemax's top bioengineer Alexia had no doubt he was living comfortably. "What would you require for your generous offer?"

Miguel smiled, his expression confident. "Simple," he said. "A little obedience, a little respect. I will train you to become the best version of yourself." He stepped closer, his body inches from hers.

"Bullshit," she answered, standing her ground and squaring her shoulders. "You would require that regardless. Why would you give me a 'clean slate' for something that's already expected?"

Miguel shook his head, his eyes holding hers. "Because I know your potential, Alexia. I see it in your eyes when you talk about your work. And I want to help you realize that potential," he said, his voice earnest. "And I won't take anything that doesn't belong to me."

Alexia's sharp green eyes considered him for a moment. She still deeply distrusted him, had no reason to trust any man, but the offer was so tempting. She knew she was worth it, that she had things to offer this lab and the world as a whole that only she would be able to accomplish. She had no doubts about her abilities, only the chances of her surviving long enough to realize her potential.

"And what exactly does a clean slate entail?" she asked, the hesitation in her voice already giving away that she would cave and agree. She still believed Dr O'Hara would take advantage of her body, but what difference would it make if it was him or some guy off the street? She needed a chance to prove herself, and this seemed to be her best option.

Miguel smiled, his expression smug as he saw her stubbornness start to give.

"It means a new beginning, Alexia," he said, his tone condescending. "A chance to start over and achieve your goals. It means becoming the best you can be, free from any distractions." He stepped closer, his body inches from hers.

"I know what you're trying to sell," she retorted, annoyed. He sounded like a car salesman, raving about the features of the car when you asked for the price.

At least that's what she imagined a car salesman would do, she had never bought a car before.

"What are you giving? Clean slate? I'm not going to magically be able to pay my bills and be 'distraction free' just because you said so with an unpaid internship. If I had better options for a job I would have taken them."

He stepped even closer, his face only inches from hers. "You will work for me three nights a week, in exchange for room and board," he said.

"You want me to abandon my family to the streets so I can be an in-house prostitute?" She sneered, his assumptions about this 'work' he was offering clear.

Miguel's expression darkened. "Do not insult me, Alexia," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I have offered you a chance to change your life for the better. And you will not turn it down."

"I do not need your help. All I am here for is this internship under you. I will sort the rest out myself," she decided, stubbornly.

Refusing his offer was hard but she was far too proud to give in to the one person who's respect she wanted. All she could see now was that he was just like every other man, ignoring her true potential for a chance at her body.

Miguel shook his head, his expression twisting with disappointment.

"I warned you, Alexia," he said, his voice cold. "If you don't accept my offer, you will be nothing more than a used up, forgotten whore for the rest of your life."

Alexia's shoulders rolled back, stretching to her full height that was nothing compared to his. Despite her confidence and strength of will she was still small. She knew she should back down, but couldn't.

"That's where you're wrong, Dr O'Hara. My name will go down in history. I will far surpass any measly legacy you leave behind with your step stone findings or as my mentor," she answered, her eyes alight with that passion, a confident promise her father had whispered in her ear before he died. "My name will be in every textbook for the next 150 years."

Miguel's eyes narrowed, his expression a mix of annoyance and admiration.

"You are one stubborn woman," he said, his voice a mere mutter of frustration at her words. "But I admire your determination. I will give you one more chance to reconsider my offer."

"I am not interested in being your free use slut in exchange for a place to live. I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

Miguel's e eyes filled with a dangerous intensity. "What is giving you the idea that I want you to prostitute yourself to me? Is that how you make money now?" he asked, his voice a low growl. He had assumed that she had an abusive boyfriend or something similar. Her immediate assumption of sex in exchange for his help opened up other possibilities.

"What I do outside of this lab is none of your concern," she repeated her earlier words, but there was uncertainty in her eyes. He didn't just deny her allegations, he was disgusted. If that wasn't his intent then what was? Was he really different? "I will not be in debt to you."

Miguel shook his head, his expression unreadable. "You are far too proud for your own good, Alexia," he said. "But you will learn humility under my care. You will learn to respect those who help you, and be grateful for what they give you." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you will earn my respect."

"And I can do all that the normal way, without you demanding to see my skin or forcing me to live where you want me to live," she stood her ground.

"You don't truly understand what I'm offering you, Alexia."

This time, Alexia finally took a step towards him, refusing to let him intimidate her.

"Then explain," she demanded, eyes cold. "Stop being vague and threatening and explain exactly what you're offering me and what you expect me to give as payment for your generosity."

Miguel took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. "I'm not asking for anything in return, Alexia," he said, his voice calm and reasonable. "I simply want to help you get to where you want to be in life. And I can offer you the resources to do so." He gestured towards the lab around them.

Alexia looked around, her eyes gave away her thoughts. She wanted to believe him, she wanted his words to be true and to finally have a little help in the world.

"I can't trust that," she said, her voice surprisingly soft, even in her own ears. It felt like a confession more than a rejection. "Nothing is free."

"Go home, Ms Gates," Dr O’Hara ordered, but there was none of the expected rejection in his own voice.

Alexia looked up at him, her eyes wide not in confusion but fear that he was firing her, judging her not worth his time. Why did this man have to be the only one alive who's approval she sought?

"Think about what I'm offering, get yourself a lab coat, and come back tomorrow morning," her mentor listed another few orders, his voice and the sheer exhaustion in his shoulders hinting at some line of thought that Alexia couldn't begin to guess at. "8:30 am, sharp."

[akbarfasteners]

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[coloradohelicalpier]

Building Strong Foundations with Helical Piers

The Strength of Helical Pier Technology

In the ever-evolving landscape of construction, where stability is paramount, helical piers have emerged as a cornerstone for robust foundations. A Commercial Helical Pier Contractor USA specializes in delivering these innovative solutions, ensuring buildings stand firm against shifting soils and environmental challenges. These steel shafts, equipped with helical plates, are screwed deep into the ground, reaching stable soil or bedrock to provide unmatched support. From towering commercial complexes to industrial facilities, this technology offers a reliable, cost-effective alternative to traditional concrete foundations. Its versatility and minimal environmental impact make it a preferred choice for contractors across the United States, transforming how structures are built and stabilized.

Why Helical Piers Excel in Construction

The appeal of hiring a Commercial Helical Pier Contractor USA lies in the technology’s efficiency and adaptability. Unlike concrete piers, which require curing time and extensive excavation, helical piers can be installed quickly, often in a single day, with minimal disruption to the site. Their screw-like design allows them to anchor securely in diverse soil conditions, from expansive clay to sandy coastal grounds, making them ideal for projects nationwide. The installation process uses hydraulic equipment, which drives piers to precise depths based on torque measurements, ensuring immediate load-bearing capacity. This precision reduces construction delays and costs, offering a sustainable solution that meets stringent building codes while supporting structures of all sizes.

Colorado’s Unique Foundation Challenges

In Colorado, where soil conditions vary from rocky terrain to expansive clay, a Colorado Helical Pier Company plays a critical role in addressing local challenges. The state’s Front Range, including cities like Denver and Colorado Springs, often faces issues like soil swelling and settling due to freeze-thaw cycles and drought. Helical piers excel in these environments, bypassing unstable surface soils to anchor in deeper, load-bearing strata. Local contractors leverage advanced engineering to assess soil reports and design custom pier configurations, ensuring foundations remain stable despite Colorado’s extreme weather. This expertise makes helical piers a go-to solution for both new construction and remedial repairs in the region.

Applications in Commercial Projects

A Commercial Helical Pier Contractor USA serves a wide range of industries, from retail centers to energy infrastructure. These contractors install piers to support multi-story buildings, warehouses, and utility towers, where high load capacities are essential. The piers’ ability to resist both upward and downward forces makes them ideal for dynamic environments like coastal areas or earthquake-prone regions. In projects like pipeline foundations or retaining walls, helical piers provide stability without the need for extensive excavation, saving time and resources. Their eco-friendly design, requiring minimal soil displacement, aligns with sustainable construction trends, making them a favorite for developers aiming to balance cost, speed, and environmental responsibility.

Colorado’s Expertise in Helical Pier Installation

A Colorado Helical Pier Company brings specialized knowledge to projects, combining local soil expertise with cutting-edge technology. These contractors work closely with engineers to evaluate geotechnical reports, ensuring piers are installed at optimal depths, typically 10 to 30 feet, to reach competent soil. For example, in areas like Grand Junction or Aspen, where soil conditions can vary dramatically, installers use high-torque hydraulic machines to drive piers with precision. Many offer free estimates and on-site inspections, tailoring solutions for residential additions, commercial buildings, or infrastructure like boardwalks. Their commitment to quality, often backed by lifetime warranties, ensures long-term stability for Colorado’s diverse construction needs.

The Installation Process Unveiled

Engaging a Commercial Helical Pier Contractor USA involves a streamlined process designed for efficiency. The project begins with a site assessment, where engineers analyze soil conditions and load requirements. Using hydraulic torque heads, contractors screw steel piers into the ground until they reach stable strata, with torque gauges ensuring adequate resistance. Brackets then connect the piers to the structure’s foundation, transferring weight to deeper layers. This method requires minimal excavation, preserving landscapes and reducing cleanup costs. In Colorado, where rocky soils or limited access can complicate projects, a Colorado Helical Pier Company adapts with specialized equipment, ensuring installations are completed swiftly and accurately, even in challenging terrains.

Benefits for Businesses and Developers

Choosing a Commercial Helical Pier Contractor USA offers significant advantages for developers. Helical piers reduce project timelines, as they can be installed year-round without waiting for concrete to cure, a critical factor in fast-paced commercial projects. Their cost-effectiveness, with installations often ranging from $1,000 to $3,000 per pier depending on depth and load, makes them competitive with traditional methods. In Colorado, a Colorado Helical Pier Company enhances these benefits by offering localized expertise, ensuring compliance with state regulations and addressing regional soil challenges. The piers’ durability, often galvanized for corrosion resistance, provides long-term value, making them a smart investment for businesses seeking reliable foundations.

Why Helical Piers Are the Future

The partnership between a Commercial Helical Pier Contractor USA and a Colorado Helical Pier Company represents the future of foundation solutions. Their ability to deliver fast, eco-friendly, and versatile installations meets the demands of modern construction, from urban skyscrapers to rural infrastructure. In Colorado, where environmental and soil challenges require innovative approaches, helical piers offer a proven method to ensure stability. By combining advanced engineering, high-quality American-made steel, and skilled installation, these contractors empower businesses and homeowners to build with confidence. As the construction industry evolves, helical piers stand as a testament to progress, providing strong, sustainable foundations for a rapidly changing world.

[avalonremodeling]

Flooring Installation Grand Rapids: Transform Your Home with Style & Precision

When it comes to Flooring Installation Grand Rapids, homeowners and businesses alike seek quality, craftsmanship, and aesthetic appeal. Your floors set the tone for your entire space — they need to be durable, stylish, and expertly installed to handle Michigan’s seasonal shifts and your everyday life. Whether you’re considering a cozy hardwood upgrade or a sleek tile refresh, the right flooring can completely transform your interiors.

In this blog, we’ll dive deep into the flooring trends making waves in Grand Rapids, tips for choosing the right materials, why hiring a professional matters, and how Avalon Remodeling Services ensures a seamless installation experience. Plus, we’ll explore how flooring connects with other home improvement services like deck installation Grand Rapids to create a unified home environment.

Why Flooring Matters: The Foundation of Every Room

Floors are more than just surfaces to walk on — they’re a visual anchor that ties your entire design theme together. In Grand Rapids, where homes range from classic Colonials to modern farmhouses, the right flooring choice can elevate your interiors dramatically.

Aesthetic Appeal: The flooring you choose sets the vibe — warm wood, industrial concrete, plush carpet, or rustic tile — it’s all about your personal style.

Functionality: Your lifestyle, whether it's a busy household with kids and pets or a more low-traffic space, determines the best flooring type.

Value Boost: Flooring upgrades can significantly increase the resale value of your home when done right.

The Avalon Advantage in Flooring Installation

If you're searching for reliable, professional Flooring Installation Grand Rapids, Avalon Remodeling is a name you can trust. Known for attention to detail, transparency, and customized service, Avalon brings decades of experience to your project.

Why choose Avalon Remodeling for your flooring installation?

Personalized Consultations: Every project begins with a detailed consultation to match the right materials and designs to your needs.

Skilled Craftsmanship: Their trained installers ensure every plank, tile, or board is aligned and installed to perfection.

Timely Completion: Your time matters — Avalon sticks to timelines and ensures a hassle-free process.

Their expertise doesn’t stop at flooring. Avalon is also a leader in deck installation Grand Rapids, creating seamless transitions between your indoor and outdoor living areas. When both spaces are handled by the same high-quality team, the result is a cohesive and stylish home environment.

Flooring Trends Grand Rapids Homeowners Love in 2025

Home design is ever-evolving, and flooring trends reflect broader lifestyle shifts, environmental concerns, and aesthetic preferences. Here are some top choices we’re seeing this year:

1. Engineered Hardwood Floors

Classic hardwood is timeless, but engineered hardwood offers better moisture resistance — ideal for Grand Rapids’ humid summers and snowy winters.

2. Luxury Vinyl Planks (LVP)

Durable, affordable, and available in an array of finishes, LVP mimics natural wood or stone but is much easier to maintain.

3. Eco-Friendly Flooring

Bamboo, cork, and reclaimed wood are becoming increasingly popular for homeowners prioritizing sustainability.

4. Large Format Tiles

Especially popular in open concept spaces, these tiles create clean lines and a modern, expansive feel.

5. Patterned Carpet Tiles

Ideal for basements and home offices, these offer fun design flexibility and easy replacement if damage occurs.

Choosing the Right Flooring for Your Space

With so many options available, how do you pick the right one? Here’s a quick breakdown based on room usage: RoomBest Flooring TypesWhy?Living RoomHardwood, LVP, LaminateDurable and invitingKitchenTile, LVP, VinylMoisture-resistant and easy to cleanBathroomPorcelain Tile, VinylWater resistance is keyBasementCarpet tiles, LVPHandles moisture and insulation wellBedroomHardwood, CarpetComfort and warmth are important

Benefits of Professional Flooring Installation

While DIY flooring videos may look easy, the reality is that incorrect installation can lead to costly problems. Professional flooring installers provide:

Perfect Fit: Accurate measurements and subfloor preparation ensure longevity.

Warranty Protection: Many manufacturers void warranties if flooring isn’t professionally installed.

Time-Saving: Professionals handle the job quickly and efficiently — no need for multiple weekend projects.

Expertise Across Surfaces: From uneven concrete basements to old hardwoods, trained professionals know how to address unique challenges.

What to Expect During the Installation Process

Curious about what working with Avalon Remodeling looks like for your flooring project? Here’s a general step-by-step:

Initial Consultation & Material Selection

In-Home Measurement & Assessment

Detailed Project Quote & Timeline

Floor Preparation (old floor removal, leveling)

Installation Day(s)

Finishing Touches & Final Walkthrough

The goal? To ensure you’re completely satisfied — not just with the finished look, but the entire experience.

Budgeting for Your New Floors

Prices vary based on material and scope, but here’s a general idea:

Luxury Vinyl Plank (LVP): $3 - $7 per sq. ft. (installed)

Hardwood: $6 - $12 per sq. ft.

Tile: $5 - $10 per sq. ft.

Laminate: $3 - $6 per sq. ft.

Carpet: $3 - $7 per sq. ft.

Avalon Remodeling works within your budget, helping you select flooring options that maximize your ROI without compromising on quality.

Why Grand Rapids Residents Trust Avalon Remodeling

Home improvement is a big investment. Avalon has built its reputation on transparency, craftsmanship, and client satisfaction. From flooring installation Grand Rapids to full kitchen remodels and deck installation Grand Rapids, their portfolio showcases projects that are functional, durable, and magazine-worthy.

Ready to Upgrade Your Floors?

If you're planning to remodel or revamp your home, flooring is a great place to start. Visit Avalon Remodeling’s Flooring Installation Services page to explore your options and schedule a consultation.

Transform your space from the ground up — because when your floors feel fresh, your entire home does too.

[srjsteel]

Mistakes to Avoid When Installing Dowel Bars in Roads

Installing dowel bars in rigid pavement isn't only a technical necessity—it's an essential structural decision. When performed properly, it guarantees that load is transferred smoothly across slabs, stopping cracks, settlement, and long-term degradation. But too frequently, avoidable mistakes compromise the whole pavement. These errors aren’t just about bad work; they regularly stem from underestimating the function of alignment systems like construction rings and Super Rings, which might be essential for correct, long-lasting dowel placement.

1. Incorrect Alignment Compromises Structural Integrity

One of the first and most costly mistakes is incorrect alignment. Dowel bars must sit parallel to both the traffic flow and pavement surface. Any tilt, even slight, can lock the slab’s movement, causing cracking under stress. This issue is worsened when installers skip using construction rings or choose inferior alignment systems. Quality rings help keep dowel bars steady and aligned, especially under the vibration of concrete pouring.

2. Inconsistent Spacing Leads to Early Joint Failure

Closely related is the error of inconsistent spacing. Misplaced bars lead to uneven load distribution, which accelerates wear and tear at joints. This is where Super Rings prove vital. These specially designed holders ensure uniform spacing across the joint and maintain bar position even in high-speed construction settings. Without them, installers often rely on visual estimations, which almost always lead to performance failures.

3. Lack of Support During Concrete Pouring

Another frequent problem is insufficient support during concrete pouring. Dowel bars shift easily without firm anchoring, especially when heavy machinery moves across the pour zone. Without Super Rings, bars may sink or tilt, leading to long-term structural issues. Strong anchorage systems like construction rings provide the stability needed to prevent vertical movement and displacement.

4. Skipping Sleeves or Bond-Breakers Locks the Joints

Failing to use proper sleeves or bond-breakers on dowel bars is also a critical error. These allow the bar to move slightly within the concrete, accommodating natural slab expansion and contraction. Without this, joints lock, and cracks form rapidly. While dowel sleeves play their role, construction rings further ensure that bars don’t twist or bind within the joint, offering a secondary safeguard against restraint.

Using Super Rings with built-in protection features significantly reduces this risk. Combined with anti-corrosive construction rings, they extend the lifespan of both the dowel and the pavement structure itself.

5. Ignoring Cleanliness of the Joint Area

Debris and dust in the joint area are often overlooked but highly detrimental. A dirty joint prevents proper bonding and can cause the dowel bar to be misaligned or ineffective. Proper installation includes cleaning the joint and using Super Rings that resist moisture and prevent slippage. This attention to detail makes the difference between a five-year road and a twenty-year one.

6. Rushing the Curing Process Creates Irreversible Errors

Rushing the curing process is another common mistake. If concrete sets before final dowel bar checks, there’s no turning back. Using clearly marked construction rings allows for rapid visual confirmation of alignment and spacing before the pour hardens, preventing irreversible errors.

7. Compromising on Quality Costs More in the Long Run

Finally, cutting costs on materials leads to a chain reaction of problems. Choosing low-grade bars or cheap accessories might seem economical, but the long-term costs in maintenance and failures quickly add up. High-quality Super Rings and construction rings are not optional accessories—they are precision tools that ensure engineering integrity and project success.

Final Thoughts: Precision is Non-Negotiable in Rigid Pavement Installation

For engineers, contractors, and decision-makers, the takeaway is clear: installing dowel bars in rigid pavement requires more than bars and concrete. It demands precision, expertise, and the right supporting products. Every poorly aligned bar, every missing ring, adds risk. Investing in tested, durable solutions like construction rings and Super Rings doesn’t just prevent mistakes — it ensures a road performs the way it was designed to.

[nascocorp]

How to Install Electrical Cable Cleats: A Comprehensive Guide

Introduction Properly installed electrical cable cleats ensure safety, compliance, and longevity in electrical systems by securing cables and preventing damage. Whether you're a professional electrician or a facility manager, understanding cable cleat installation is critical. To install electrical cable cleats, select the appropriate cleat type, measure and mark cable routes, secure cleats with suitable fixings, and follow safety standards like IEC 61914. This guide provides a step-by-step process, safety tips, troubleshooting advice, and expert insights for installing cable cleats, optimized for both indoor and outdoor applications.

Why Cable Cleat Installation Matters

Cable cleats secure electrical cables, preventing movement, damage, or short circuits. Improper installation can lead to costly repairs, safety hazards, or non-compliance with standards like NEC or IEC 61914. According to a 2023 study by the Electrical Safety Foundation, 13% of electrical fires are linked to faulty cable management.

Step-by-Step Cable Cleat Installation Process

Follow these steps to ensure a safe and effective cable cleat installation:

Assess Cable and Environment

Identify cable type (e.g., single-core, multi-core, armored).

Determine environmental factors (indoor, outdoor, corrosive areas).

Check cable diameter to select compatible cleats.

Choose the Right Cable Cleat

Use metallic cleats (e.g., stainless steel) for high-fault currents.

Opt for non-metallic (e.g., polymer) for non-corrosive indoor settings.

Ensure compliance with standards like IEC 61914.

Plan Cable Route and Cleat Spacing

Mark the cable path on walls, trays, or racks.

Follow manufacturer guidelines for cleat spacing (typically 300–1200 mm).

Account for bends, ensuring cleats support cable curvature.

Prepare Tools and Fixings

Tools: Drill, screwdriver, measuring tape, marker.

Fixings: Bolts, anchors, or screws suitable for the surface (e.g., concrete, steel).

Install the Cleats

Drill holes at marked points.

Secure cleats with fixings, ensuring alignment.

Place cables in cleats and tighten without over-compressing.

Inspect and Test

Verify cleats are firmly secured and cables are immobile.

Check for compliance with local codes (e.g., NEC, BS 7671).

Document installation for future audits.

Expert Tip: John Miller, a 20-year veteran electrician, recommends using torque wrenches to avoid over-tightening cleats, which can damage cables.

Electrical Cable Cleat Installation Safety Tips

Safety is paramount during cable cleat installation. Follow these guidelines:

De-energize the System: Always work on de-energized cables to prevent shocks.

Use PPE: Wear insulated gloves, safety glasses, and hard hats.

Check for Corrosion Resistance: In coastal areas, use 316 stainless steel cleats to resist rust.

Avoid Overloading: Ensure cleats are rated for the cable’s weight and fault current.

Follow Standards: Adhere to IEC 61914 or local codes like NEC for compliance.

Real-Life Example: In 2024, a manufacturing plant in Texas avoided a major outage by replacing outdated cleats with IEC-compliant ones, preventing cable slippage during a storm.

Read more...Electrical Cable Cleat Installation Safety Tips

Cable Cleat Installation for Outdoor Cables

Outdoor installations face unique challenges like weather exposure and temperature fluctuations. Here’s how to optimize:

Select Weather-Resistant Cleats: Use UV-resistant polymer or stainless steel cleats.

Protect Against Water Ingress: Apply sealant around fixings to prevent corrosion.

Account for Thermal Expansion: Space cleats to allow cable movement due to heat or cold.

Elevate Cables: Use racks or trays to avoid ground moisture.

Case Study: A solar farm in Arizona used UV-resistant polymer cleats for outdoor cables, reducing maintenance costs by 20% over five years.

Read more...Cable Cleat Installation for Outdoor Cables

Troubleshooting Cable Cleat Installation Issues

Common problems can derail installations. Here’s how to address them:

Loose Cleats

Cause: Incorrect fixings or poor surface preparation.

Solution: Use anchors suited for the surface and ensure holes are clean.

Cable Slippage

Cause: Undersized cleats or improper tightening.

Solution: Verify cleat size matches cable diameter and use a torque wrench.

Corrosion

Cause: Non-resistant materials in harsh environments.

Solution: Replace with corrosion-resistant cleats (e.g., 316 stainless steel).

Overheating Cables

Cause: Over-tightened cleats restricting airflow.

Solution: Loosen cleats to allow ventilation while maintaining security.

Pro Insight: Regular inspections every 6–12 months can catch issues early, per NFPA 70B guidelines.

Read more... Troubleshooting Cable Cleat Installation Issues

FAQs About Cable Cleat Installation

Q: What is the purpose of cable cleats? A: Cable cleats secure electrical cables, preventing movement, damage, or short circuits while ensuring compliance with safety standards.

Q: How often should cable cleats be spaced? A: Spacing varies by manufacturer but typically ranges from 300 mm to 1200 mm, depending on cable type and environment.

Q: Can I use plastic cleats outdoors? A: Yes, but only UV-resistant polymer cleats rated for outdoor use to withstand weather exposure.

Q: What standards govern cable cleat installation? A: IEC 61914 is the global standard, while NEC and BS 7671 apply in the U.S. and U.K., respectively.

Q: How do I know if my cleats are correctly installed? A: Inspect for secure fixings, immobile cables, and compliance with manufacturer and local code requirements.

Conclusion

Installing electrical cable cleats correctly is essential for safety, compliance, and system reliability. By following the step-by-step process, adhering to safety tips, and addressing outdoor and troubleshooting challenges, you can ensure a robust installation. Regular inspections and adherence to standards like IEC 61914 will extend the lifespan of your electrical system. For complex projects, consult a certified electrician to guarantee compliance and safety.