#Efficient Pool Designs

[dantechnologie]

Best Swimming Pool Manufacturers: Space-Saving Tips and Ideas for Small Backyards

Having a swimming pool in your backyard is a luxury that many homeowners dream of, but if you have a small yard, you might feel like it's impossible to make it happen. Thankfully, with careful planning and the right design ideas, even the most compact spaces can be transformed into a beautiful, functional oasis. In this article, we’ll explore space-saving tips and creative ideas for designing a swimming pool that fits perfectly in your small backyard. Plus, we’ll highlight how choosing the best swimming pool manufacturers, like Dan Technologies, can make all the difference in bringing your vision to life.

1. Assess Your Available Space

Before jumping into the design process, it's essential to assess how much space you have available. A small backyard can still accommodate a pool, but it’s all about optimizing that space. Take measurements of your yard and visualize how a pool would fit into the layout. Keep in mind any existing structures like patios, gardens, or outdoor furniture that need to be factored in.

For very small backyards, you may want to consider compact pool designs such as plunge pools, lap pools, or even swim spas. These types of pools take up less space but still provide all the benefits of having a pool.

2. Consider the Shape of Your Pool

When it comes to smaller backyards, the shape of the pool is crucial. A rectangular or lap pool is often the best option for a tight space. These pools can fit neatly along one side of your yard, providing a long, narrow swimming area that doesn’t dominate the entire space.

If you're looking for something a bit more unique, consider custom shapes like an L-shape or a geometric design that blends well with your landscape. These shapes are often more flexible in fitting into smaller, irregular spaces while still offering an aesthetically pleasing look.

3. Opt for a Plunge Pool or Cocktail Pool

If space is tight, a plunge pool or cocktail pool might be the perfect solution. These smaller, shallow pools are ideal for cooling off, soaking, and relaxing without taking up too much room. Plunge pools can be designed with modern features like built-in jets or fountains for added relaxation.

A plunge pool is usually between 5 to 8 feet wide, so it can fit into even the smallest backyards. With the right design, it can still offer a chic and luxurious vibe while being space-efficient.

4. Maximize Vertical Space

In a small backyard, you need to get creative with how you use every inch of space. Vertical space is an often overlooked area that can be maximized to create a more expansive feel. Consider adding walls or fences with built-in shelves, planters, or even vertical garden systems around your pool area.

Incorporating a vertical garden or climbing plants around your pool area can help soften the hard lines of the pool while providing privacy. This creates a more intimate and cozy atmosphere while keeping the design minimalist and streamlined.

5. Incorporate Multi-Function Features

To make the most of your pool and backyard space, think about incorporating multi-functional elements. For instance, you can choose a pool design that doubles as a hot tub or an infinity edge that enhances the visual appeal while making the pool feel more expansive.

You can also install a pool with a built-in lounging area, which will give you extra room to relax without needing to use up additional space for furniture. By combining multiple functions into one area, you’ll maximize both space and utility.

6. Use Lighter Colors to Create the Illusion of Space

In small spaces, the color scheme you choose can significantly affect how large or small the area feels. Lighter colors like whites, light blues, and soft grays can make a small pool area look bigger and more open. Opting for light-colored pool tiles, walls, and decking can help open up the space and create the illusion of more room.

In contrast, dark colors tend to make a small space feel more enclosed, so they should be used sparingly in smaller backyards.

7. Consider the Pool’s Surroundings

While focusing on the pool itself is essential, don’t forget about its surrounding area. Choose landscaping elements that complement the pool without overwhelming the space. Go for minimalist designs with clean lines and choose plants that won’t grow too large or block natural light.

Opt for modern, low-maintenance materials like stone or composite decking, which can give your pool area a sleek and contemporary look. Consider built-in seating or hidden storage that can help keep the area organized and clutter-free.

Read more: Top 10 Important Questions to Ask Before Hiring a Swimming Pool Manufacturer

8. Select the Right Pool Manufacturer

Once you have a design idea in mind, the next step is selecting a pool manufacturer who can bring your vision to life. Choosing a reliable and experienced manufacturer is crucial to ensure that your pool is built with quality materials, designed to fit your space, and installed efficiently.

One of the best swimming pool manufacturers in the industry is Dan Technologies. Their innovative designs and expertise in custom pool solutions make them an excellent choice for homeowners with small backyards. With a focus on quality, aesthetics, and functionality, Dan Technologies can help you design a pool that maximizes your available space while staying within your budget.

9. Maximize Functionality with Smart Pool Technology

Incorporating modern pool technology can also enhance your small pool’s functionality. For example, automated pool systems allow you to control temperature, lighting, and cleaning schedules from your smartphone, helping you save time and energy. LED lighting can also add a stylish touch to your pool, making it a beautiful focal point in the evening without taking up any additional space.

10. Work with a Professional Designer

If you're unsure about how to optimize your small backyard for a swimming pool, consider working with a professional pool designer. They can offer expert advice on layouts, design features, and the best materials for small spaces. Professional designers, like those affiliated with Dan Technologies, can ensure that your pool not only fits your space but also complements your overall landscape and lifestyle.

Conclusion

Designing a swimming pool for a small backyard doesn’t have to be a challenge. By thinking creatively about the shape, size, and surrounding elements, you can create a beautiful and functional pool area that maximizes your space. Remember, working with the best swimming pool manufacturers like Dan Technologies will ensure that your pool is built with the highest standards of quality and craftsmanship. With the right design and expert guidance, you can enjoy the luxury of having a pool in your small backyard, no matter how limited your space may be.

[renegadeelectrics]

SPA and pool Controls in New Zealand - Renegade Electrics - Automation + Control Limited

Renegade Electrics specializes in the automation of your SPA and pool controls. Experience ultimate convenience and efficiency as our expert solutions seamlessly manage and optimize your water features. Trust us to elevate your relaxation experience, bringing innovation and precision to your SPA and pool automation needs.

[faithfromanewperspective]

does anyone remember the 2010s when like. teslas were the Good Car. no one else had EVs out yet and you saw a tesla and knew it was a rich hippie with solar panels powering their off-grid passive design urban mansion housing 12 rescue cats and an anaconda. while we're all driving around in our carbon-farting gas guzzling at least fuel efficient old toyotas. you saw a tesla driver and were like 'if i work hard and pool money with my friends we might be able to own one tesla all together in 10 years time'

now it is 10 years time and teslas are killing motorcyclists and drowning drivers and it's like. i'll take my push bike and BRT rides and a share in a renault zoe but can we just. please get rid of those things

[ivys-garden]

More Minecraft ideas, what part of Minecraft needs improvement?

You're wrong, it's ponds.

Ponds, lakes, lava pools. They all suck in Minecraft, they end up just being big holes in the ground with nothing interesting about them that make the landscape ugly and hole ridden

Now you might say “Ivy, literally no one cares” and to that I say, wheesht and accept my ramblings ya donut

So, how do we fix Ponds? It's simply really: make ponds generated structures.

Ponds would now be generated structures taking up one chunk, with an actual human made design to make them, you know, look good. There would be, say, 100 or so different designs to stop them looking to samey (they'd be so small that something like that would be feasible)

Lakes would be done similarly, only with the key difference, they would be made up of 4 chunk “cells”, each making up a corner of the lake.

ponds and lakes in plains or forest biomes would be made of blocks like mud and dirt.

Ponds and lakes in deserts (or oases if you want) would be made up of grass and sand

Ponds and lakes in tundras would be frozen over on the top layer of the water and with clay spawning around the water

Now, let's see some things that can be found in ponds and lakes:

Frogs

Nothing new here, frogs and frogspawn are most common ponds, pond frogs also only come in the green frog varietie.

Perhaps the oasis can have a desert rain frog variant that gives a purple frog light

Toads

Toads and toad spawn can be found in lakes and ponds in forest and plains biomes. Toads emerge from toad spawn in the same way frogs do. Toads have an exaggerated size, being double the size of the frog

Toads come in several colours (Green, Brown, Yellow, Orange and Lime) but these colours do not harbour any game mechanics (in other words: sorry but there are no toadlights)

Toads will eat all mobs with wings, that being the Parrot, Chicken, Phantom, Bat, Bee and the player if they are wearing an elytra, so watch out.

All the aforementioned mobs are scared of Toads, making them and effective deterrent to phantoms in particular

Cattails, Reeds, Rice, Algae and Papyrus

I'll just do all the plant life stuff at once (these will generate dependent on the pond or lake cell)

Algae is a new decorative blocks that can be placed on water

It will connect to other blocks, creating an unbroken surface across the water

Algae has a bright green hue and can be found in both ponds and lakes with the same frequency

Papyrus is a new plant that spawns naturally in the oasis, it is used as a more efficient way of making paper as it can be bonemealed and only one papyrus is needed to make paper

Rice is a plant that grows in water in lakes and ponds spawning in cherry groves.

Rice can be used in two recipes:

Rice Bowls:Putting rice, a bowl and any meat together will craft a rice bowl

This food source that can be eaten twice, eating the meat and then the rice

Sushi: putting rice, dried kelp and one fish into a crafting table creates Sushi, a foodsoarch that can be eaten instantly without playing the eating animation, not very nutritious but good in a pinch

Cattails are a purely decorative plant found in ponds and swamps

Reeds are more common around rivers and lakes, being a fern like plant that grows two tall.

Reeds can be used to craft a new item: Pan Pipes

Combining 3 reeds and 3 string will create pan pipes, these can be played to draw passive mobs towards you so long as the button to play them is held down.

Pan Pipes can also calm neutral mobs like wolves, iron golems and bees, but doing this instantly focus the Pan pipes into cool down

Pan pipes have a cool down double that of the Goat Horn

Bagpipes

By putting Pan Pipes, 3 iron nuggets, 3 red wool and 3 green wool together you can make Bagpipes.

Bagpipes have durability on top of having the same level of cool down as Pan Pipes. Bagpipes cannot be enchanted.

Bagpipes have the ability to PERMANENTLY pacify all hostile mobs in the chunk the player is in.

Bagpipes will break after 10 or so uses

Willow and Palm

Willow and palm are new wood types, Willow spawns around lakes and ponds and Palm spawns around oases.

Willow has a dark Bluish-green colour, complementing mangrove, where as Palm is a desaturated pale white

(These will generate depending on the pond or lake cell)

(Part 1/3)

[quinnred]

Fan concept for Rythaze's Repha project. Nephilim super soldiers require a LOT of energy to support their bodies, and so need large and efficient food portions.

One solution for this issue was the Meal Pig, a genetically modified domestic pig designed to grow large and grow quickly with enough meat and fat to easily feed Nephilim soldiers.

Meal Pigs are placed in shallow pools that support their massive weight and feed on high nutrient slop to sustain their size. Their elongated snout acts as a snorkel as they feed on their submerged food.

Meal Pigs are designed with segmented surface fat and meat "packets" for easy and fast butchery.

[throneofsapphics]

track 32

Fenrys x Reader x Lorcan

Summary: Cursed to fall in love, only to have everything ripped away from you, moving on to your next life already feels like a drag, only things don't quite follow their usual patterns.

Warnings: discussions of death, Maeve, brief description of torture, happy ending

Word Count: 8077

A/N: the HAPPIEST of birthdays to @whisperingmidnights <3 I hope you have an amazing day (& thank you to @rowaelinsdaughter for your help)

You tumbled into your new body. Again. At least this time the Gods let you skip through the childhood years, instead flooding your mind with memories of your new past. You could only be a toddler so many times before truly losing the last grip on your sanity. 

You’d think so much pain and suffering would flood together, the lives all melting into one giant messed up pot but instead each experience remained distinctly painful to you. Distinctly full of suffering and sour memories. You, obviously, hadn’t survived a single one and your trek across the multiverse was written in blood. 

It took you up until life 15 to really stop holding onto so many grudges, especially considering you seemed to be destined to fall for the same people each time. Not the same types of people, but the actual same person. 

Whoever put a curse on you had been clever. If you were cursed, perhaps you were just really damn unlucky. But right now you needed a bath, a hot meal, and a good night’s rest. Of course you were drunk. Fresh in from a night out on the town with one of your friends, but you had good some good fortune in this life - your own apartment. 

Tossing clothes off as you walked, you beelined towards where you knew the bathing room was. You were pretty certain you’d stayed in this exact apartment building before, and if you remembered correctly each apartment had near identical layouts, the entire building cheap and designed for efficiency. In this life, you’d made it your own more than in the previous ones. 

You stepped into the tub, let the cold water hit your toes, partially sobering you, rivulets of now psycho-somatic grime and blood streaming from your body to pool in clear water at your feet. 

A mind healer would have a field day with you and you knew it all too well. 

Plugging the drain, you adjusted it to reach the perfect temperature. Yes, an efficiency building but still had hot running water. It was odd, but you didn’t question it - you were a creature of comfort after all. 

You wondered when you’d see them again. You wished you could say that tall of your interactions started off on a fresh beat, that you had it together enough not to judge them based on versions of them in a different universe, but you weren’t. 

Having it together? Maybe, certainly not on that level though. Having it together enough to appreciate their presence at this moment? Hell no. 

After last time. 

“We’re done,” he mumbled, not willing to make eye contact with you. 

“Then say it to my face,” you glanced between both of them. 

Heads down. Eyes downcast - first time you’d seen them like that. 

“Then I really meant that little, didn’t I?”

“No,” one said - you could barely distinguish who through the raging steam in your ears and tears down your cheeks. 

“Yes,” the other said. You didn’t know or care who said what. It didn’t matter. Later, just before the death took you you’d find out who made them do it and realize it still didn’t matter. She may have forced them to lie, but they didn’t have to be quite so convincing. 31 lives had taught you logic had no place in heartbreak. 

The memory hit you like a physical blow to the chest, a stinging and pressure left in its wake. That heartbreak had killed you the quickest of them all. 

Three days. 

It was part of your curse, you’d figured out. To always know. What life you were on, the details of your past lives, how long it took you to do, what the death felt like, every little detail was committed to memory all because you’d dared to love someone a little too much, and ended up stealing them away from a wicked witch. 

Well, the story didn’t go quite like that but you thought it sounded better in your head that way. In reality, you’d fallen in love and done something stupid, as all people in love do from time to time. 

You and Lorcan had agreed you should try to get Fenrys out, that although it would be more difficult to get him released, Fenrys needed it more. You didn’t have the guts to tell him you needed both of them like you needed air, but there hadn’t been time for that. All of your moments were stolen and borrowed time. 

“Will you please release him from your service?” You were on your knees, begging. “Please, Majesty.” 

The harsh flooring dug into your knees but you kept the same subservient pose. For someone with so much pride, this was humiliating and your Queen knew it. 

“No.” 

One flat and toneless word. 

“No?” You repeated. 

Wicked red lips curved into a smile. “That is what I said.” 

You had several choice words for her after, and she’d responded with a fucking curse. Cursed to always love, but to never have it stick, cursed to die from heartbreak. 

Even after all of these lives the word ‘curse’ was still ugly in your mouth, still made your stomach heave and back seize at the memories. The times you’ve run into the Queen she hadn’t recognized you, but you knew she was still untouchable. Frequently made that way by the ones you loved. 

The breeze sneaking through the poorly insulated window highlighted how water already chilled around you. You didn’t miss that part of this building, the tub held next to no heat and your bathwater always ended up cold in less than fifteen minutes. 

You were tempted to stay still and prune, but there was no use in it. A new life, new things to do. 

Dragging yourself out of the tub, you dried off as efficiently as you could make yourself, scrounged up some comfortable clothes and headed to your desk. Grabbing a notepad and pen, you began writing. 

number thirty-one. 

It was a ritual of sorts, perhaps your imaginary mind healer would be proud of you for it, for getting all of your pain out on paper as soon as possible. 

Right before you burned it. 

Tossing the five sheets of paper on the flames felt good.

Running into them happened far too quickly for your liking. It always did. Life always started and finished too damn fast. 

You glanced in the mirror, at what you’d chosen to wear for the night out with your not-really-new friends. The dress fit you perfectly, and showed just enough to leave you feeling bold without being uncomfortable. The gold wrapped around your wrists helped too. Not too much to look rob worthy, but enough to make you feel like some extra type of sheen was thrown over you. Maybe, just maybe this life would bring you a little luck. Was gold supposed to be good luck? You didn’t know, but maybe you’d figure out how to look it up later. If you remembered to. 

You felt something warm in your chest, not unlike the flush from the first sip of whiskey. Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn it tugged, dragged you towards another. 

No, not in this or any life. It wasn’t possible. 

No matter how many times you fell in love and in how many ways, you’d never found a mate and were convinced you were destined not to. 31 lives was enough time to find a mate, a life partner. You should’ve had that done in by life 10. 

It was funny, how you’d started measuring your existence in lives rather than years. After all, it fit your circumstances. Permanently destined to be a temporary existence in others lives, and for their existence and influence to end yours. If there was a way out of this, a stopping or breaking of the curse you figured you would’ve found it by now. 

A loud pounding on the door and you hissed as the brush slipped, you barely moving your wrist away in time to save your face from a large black streak. 

“Gods,” you yelled, “hold on a damn moment.” 

“We’re going to miss the bard,” someone - Ella? Yes, Ella, shouted back. 

“Alright,” you groused loud enough for her to hear, “one moment.” 

One more swipe of kohl and you looked ready. A few deep breaths and you felt ready. 

Shoving the cosmetics to the back of the counter, you swung yourself around the doorway, grabbing your coat off the hook and flinging open the front door, finding your friend posed with their fist menacingly mid-air, probably about to break your door down. Memory clicked in, reminding you they can be a tad aggressive on a mission. 

Their mouth curved into a too-satisfied smirk, probably that their threats had work. Rolling your eyes, you shoved past them into the hall, quickly locking your door. 

“Anyone else for tonight?” 

“Just us,” they looped their arm through yours and started for the stairs. 

Ugh. Last time in this building you’d been on the ground floor, and you’d definitely miss the convenience of that, but at least you had a pretty balcony view here. It’s all give and take, you supposed. 

“Copper for your thoughts?” Ella’s voice interrupted you. 

How long had you zoned out? Was that a habit in this lifetime? You couldn’t remember. 

“Do I really look that broke?” You deflected. 

It worked, she laughed. Maybe it would’ve been nice if she pushed a little. 

-

Fenrys breathed in the fresh air. Maeve had sent him on a mission. Alone. Staking out Varese for several months, observing, but she didn’t exactly tell him what to look for. It was perhaps the most exciting and infuriating mission he’d been assigned. Infuriating, because he truly had no idea what in Hellas’s name he was supposed to do, exciting because he had months to spend doing whatever he thought ‘observing’ looked like. 

Yes, he knew it was a mockery of freedom but right now he’d take the gods-damned mockery over what he’s stuck in every day. 

Walking through the street, although he stuck to the shadows, unnoticed to the masses, it still felt like each face was sent there to tease him, remind him of the invisible leash tying him to that bitch for the rest of his life. He didn’t know how Lorcan, the bastard, did it with such glee and joy. At least Whitethorn had shown a measure of discontent at some point, he’d even seen a hint of it on perfectly loyal Gavriel’s face. 

Something caught his attention. Someone. 

Arm in arm with your friend, strolling down the street, exuding pure confidence. Someone aware of their place in this world and what they meant to it. The light in your eyes matched his own. Dimmed, flaring when necessary and just enough to keep up appearances. 

Only a fellow fraud would recognize it. 

He had to follow. It was insanity, but he needed to see more of you. 

That’s how he ended up nursing a drink in the corner of the bar, shadows wreathed around him, cloak pulled up to cover his face. He matched some of the many body guards of nobles around, and through some blessing not a soul had recognized him or even shot him a second glance. Perhaps Friday’s were quite a popular night for the elite to pretend, that or he’d gotten better at blending in. He didn’t know which to put his money on. 

Someone, however, caught all of the attention - including his, even when he tried to ignore the magnetic attraction tugging him towards you. Throwing your head back in a laugh, you danced along with your friend, clothing absolutely sinful and fitting right in. He loved it. Every part of your energy felt like it was tugging at him, urging him closer, closer, closer, and he realized just how dangerous that made you. 

Dangerous to him, and to yourself through him. 

No matter what, she hung over him like a storm cloud. 

Anything he might try to pursue with you would end before it could truly began, love or relationship cut off at its knees without a chance to truly blossom. Did he actually want it to? Could Fenrys actually be that selfish? 

Yes, if it came to you. He glanced down at his pint. Still half full, and rather weak shit. He wasn’t drunk but still managed to think complete nonsense. Nothing could happen, but for now he supposed it couldn’t hurt to imagine a fantasy life with a stranger he’d never see again live in the corner of his mind, so long as it it stayed there. He was so, so wrong. 

-

Lorcan Salvaterre knew about sacrifice. In fact, he was an expert at it, at this point. But, every bit was worth it for her. His Queen. The only female he’d truly loved to the point where he’d do anything and everything. 

Perhaps other love could have come his way, but it had never been the right time. Timing, in his opinion, shouldn’t matter. He’d always make the time for Maeve, and everything he’d done since meeting her had been for her. When she ordered him away, he left. When she kept him by her side - but never her bed - he stayed. Maeve said jump, he asked how high. 

That's why Lorcan was trying to figure out when in Hellas he’d become so disillusioned, starting thinking things so unlike him. He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell anyone. Lorcan didn’t have any friends or confidants, that wasn’t something he dealt in. To him, there was no purpose in friends when his entire life’s purpose was bound by blood to servitude. 

The closest thing he had to friends was his blood brothers, and like hell he’d ever tell them of this ... treachery waging war inside of his mind. 

Lunch swirled unpleasantly in his stomach as he thought of the word. Treason. 

When Maeve called him to the throne room, when he knelt before her, he mentally prepared himself for his immortal life to end rather early. She must know. She always knows. 

Instead, he needed to figure out how he’d pissed her off because she’d sent him off for some kind of torturous punishment. Keeping an eye on Fenrys, currently loose in Varese. 

“Anything I should watch out for in particular, majesty?” He was quite proud of how he kept the bitterness from his tone. Or thought he did. 

“You’ll know if you see something off,” she dismissed him with a wave. “Consider it a vacation, of sorts.” 

Blood sworn didn’t get vacations, he wanted to protest. He didn’t want - or need one. Had he really been slacking that much? The journey would provide adequate time for reflection, for him to dissect and figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong so he could prevent those mistakes in the future. That was essential. This trip however, like most things with Fenrys, would probably turn out to be a complete waste of his time. Time that could be spent doing much better things. But ... he supposed if this is what his Queen wanted him to do, it was exactly what he’d be doing, regardless of his feelings on the subject. His feeling always had been, and always would be inconsequential.

He was here. Already. Fuck. 

It was day 2, and you couldn’t catch a break. Is there such thing as a resting life? One where you could go through without any relationships, just peace and enjoying your moments of solitude? No, not for someone like you. 

Running away from them never worked, they would haunt your every movement until they consumed every last bit of you and scattered crumbs on the wind, only for the crumbs to reform and drag you back towards them. 

Do you embrace fate or run away from it? It was inevitable, what was the point in fighting anymore? You were so tired of it. Exhaustion rippled from you in waves, you were surprised everyone around you hadn’t noticed as soon as you walked in. 

Even if you wanted to, Fate, in the form of the most gorgeous man to exist, all bronze skin, onyx eyes, and golden hair, didn’t give you a choice. He slid into the bar stool next to you. 

You didn’t smile, at first, but your traitorous heart warmed in his presence. 

“Have we met before?” He said, jokingly. 

If only he knew. 

“Maybe in your dreams,” you slid your hand across the bar and grabbed your glass, drinking deeply. He winced. 

“Am I that bad of company?” 

“You’ve been here for,” you glanced at the clock pointedly, “a minute. It has nothing to do with you.” You’d tried every approach in the past to get them to see if it would deter them enough for them to circumvent fate, but nothing worked. Each version of you was destined for tragedy with each version of them. 

“That’s fair enough,” Fenrys replied. You reminded yourself you didn’t know his name. 

“What do they call you?” The words came out, regardless of your internal wince, knowing you were setting him up for a ridiculous line. 

“In b-”

You held a hand up and his mouth clamped shut. “No, no, none of that.” 

He laughed, deep and rich, a sound you ... had you heard that laugh from him before? Perhaps not, at least not in a few lives. Recently things had been so depressing. 

“I like you,” he nudged you gently with his elbow, your heart ached. 

not again not again not again. 

‘Yes,’ a cruel voice from red lips whispered in your mind, ‘again, again, again. Forever. This is what you deserve.’

Someone cleared their throat. Fenrys. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, glancing at the bottom of your nearly empty glass. Empty. Fuck. You couldn’t handle this sober. Were you sober? Your friends were long gone, all found partners for the night while you nursed your worries at the bar. “What’s your name?” You took the last sip of your drink as the last syllable left your lips, ideally it could hide any signs of a lie from him. 

“Fenrys,” he leaned back enough in his stool to extend his arm to you, rather formally. When you placed your hand in his, intending to squeeze it to death, he deftly rearranged your hands and raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. “At your service.” 

“Charmer,” you rolled your eyes but softly pulled your hand away and replied with your name. 

He said your name quietly, extending the vowels, as if testing how it sounded on his tongue, how it might sound in other - 

You chided yourself, pulling your mind out of the gutter. With the situation you knew he was always in, that was the last thing you needed to be thinking about. Or that he needed to be. You might not escape him, but you certainly wouldn’t do anything to make this harder on yourself. At least thats what you’re saying now. 

“Last call,” the gruff barman said, scowling at Fenrys before shooting you a smile. Your mind rattled through details. Right, you regularly shut this tavern down and always left a good tip. 

You leaned over to Fenrys and whispered low so the other male couldn’t hear, “he’s easy to win over. A good tip, manners, and easy orders.” 

Fenrys hid his snort in his drink, draining the last droplets. “Thank you for the advice, love,” he whispered conspiratorially. Asshole. 

“Whatever,” you mumbled and left your usual amount, sliding off the stool. Just because you were fated to make each other’s lives hell didn’t mean you had to deal with him being rude. Maybe you were just sensitive. 

A ‘wait’ followed you but you ignored it. Inevitable.

He caught up to you on the street, calling your name again. 

Something else struck you. He was alone in Varese. When did this happen? This was odd. Out of all of your lifetimes nothing had followed this pattern, never meeting so quickly and certainly not with Fenrys on his own with his leash rather loose for what the bitch prefers. You needed to figure out more. 

“Want to come back to my place for a drink?” You said, slowly turning to look at him. 

If he was surprised by your quick change of tune, he didn’t say a thing, only nodding and linking your arms together. Like he’d been waiting for a friend. The pain in your chest was physical as much as it was emotional. 

-

Lorcan was here to keep an eye on Fenrys, and if that meant sitting in the shadows on a rooftop, peering through a beautiful female’s stupidly open window then so be it. You walked around and even acted like you didn’t give a damn whether you lived or died, but he could tell you were smart, based on how you’d handled Fenrys. 

He’d ended enough lives to have an appreciation for it, and the way you were so gods-damned careless with yours pissed him off. 

Lorcan should be questioning why his feelings towards you are so strong, but instead he’s observing every little detail of the interactions between you and Fenrys. For his report, of course. He always paid attention to detail, there was no other reason than being thorough. At least he kept telling himself that. 

It wasn’t because he liked the way your hair moved, or how you rolled your eyes frequently at his blood-sworn brother, followed by a barely there smile that he only noticed because the shadows danced around it, as if you repelled the darkness. 

Maybe you could repel the darkness in him. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Lorcan hadn’t drank, and even if he had he never entertained thoughts like this. 

Refocusing, he committed to memory every detail of what Fenrys was doing, how he reacted to you, how attached he might be and how you might already be used against him by his Queen. 

An unfamiliar feeling settled in his stomach, tainting him. 

Guilt. 

He didn’t want to use you. 

But if it came to it, he wouldn't have a choice. He never really did. 

-

Fenrys whistled lowly on his way home, through the empty streets. Still aware of his surroundings, also aware that none would dare approach him - not with the steel and the stature he carried himself with, proof he knew how to use it. 

All he’d done is sit and talk with you for hours, in fact the dawn was currently beginning to crest over the city. Hours of sitting and talking felt like mere minutes with you, and he found he had more fun in that time than he had in years, perhaps decades, perhaps since entering Maeve’s service. 

It was sad, really, that you could only be a temporary fixture, for your own safety. 

Still, his mind rattled with ways to do the impossible, with how he could be with you forever without ... it was useless, really, to even ponder it. The false hope and ideas would only taint the present he had, for however long Maeve let him stay here in his ... his fantasy, he supposed. 

He could imagine many fantasies with you involved but the biggest was your friendship. The way you hadn’t hit on him, made any kind of sexual innuendos or advances, thats why he followed you out of the bar. Because you made him comfortable in a way nobody else had in so, so long. Like you’d been doing it for lifetimes. 

The scent hit him. The male wanted him to know he was there. His entire body stiffened, posture straightened slightly, pleasant after buzz from your intoxicating presence gone just like that. 

Lorcan Salvaterre. His commander. 

“Who was that?” Lorcan wasted no time and matched pace with him. 

“None of your business,” Fenrys snapped. Aware that he could be punished for it, but he didn’t care, he looked the male right in the eyes. 

Lorcan ... Lorcan didn’t push him. At all. Instead, something like understanding passed through his eyes. Had Lorcan needed to protect someone from Maeve before? 

Probably not. He was a cold hearted bastard through and through. 

“Keep her away,” the words were whispered on the wind - there and gone. Just like Lorcan, who melted into the shadows. 

Away from who? Lorcan didn’t say ‘keep away from her,’ and Fenrys knew everything the bastard did was intentional. 

Lorcan Salvaterre was here. You knew it, having caught the faintest hint of his unfortunately familiar scent, trailing after you like a hound. 

The fact that he was following you made you nervous. Yes, similar situations had occured before but everything about this time seemed so different that it filled you with mixed emotions. 

What are the odds there’s actually something good in store for you? Slim, you decided, based on history and reasoning, and you knew Lorcan Salvaterre stalking anyone was bad news, but especially for you when you had ... history with the Queen he so lovingly served.

Someone whose head deserved to be ripped right from her neck, you cast the thought into the universe and hoped it landed, hoped she felt a phantom prick in the side of her neck. 

Maybe she regretted cursing you to some kind of eternal half existence, always in and out of different worlds. Doubtful. More likely she tired of whatever game she decided to play for you and set the person who she knew would hurt the most to kill you. Even you could admit you were extrapolating. 

Maybe an attitude change could fix everything. A tad less drama. 

You glanced out the window, at the rain currently pouring down, at the moisture leaking into your apartment. The weather certainly didn’t match up for life changes, if anything it read of staying right where you were. 

Accepting it wouldn’t happen today, you saved the attitude change for the next sunny day. Those practically screamed change in fortune. Or you hoped they did. 

A week passed. You saw Fenrys each night at the Tavern, and scented a weirdly careless Lorcan on your trail each day. 

Your attitude may not have changed with the next bout of sunshine, but you had a plan. It was rather simple, to somehow draw Lorcan out. However, there was a difference between having a plan and knowing how to execute it. You supposed that made your plan an idea more than anything. 

Fenrys had mentioned business meetings he’d be attending one night, and you decided that was the perfect to do it. The perfect night to pretend to get sloshed, and you had the help of your favorite barkeep. 

Knowing Lorcan, he probably had questions for you, and wouldn’t miss the opportunity to get some answers while your inhibitions were ‘lowered.’ Arrogant males like him wouldn’t let opportunities slide by, but Lorcan Salvaterre stayed Maeve’s commander for a reason, and you knew your acting skills had to be top notch to keep him from becoming suspicious. 

-

“When will you stop pretending to drink those?” Lorcan asked gruffly as he slid into the stool next to you, his hulking frame towering over the bar and casting a shadow over you. You were a good actress, but he was better, and caught on after the first couple of drinks and exchanged looks between you and the barkeep, who you were on very friendly terms with. 

The obsession with you, the flares of irrational anger when another man trailed too close, Lorcan knew what this was, and knew he was screwing both of you over with it. Fated for misery and doom, no matter how the cards played out. He’d be stuck with her, Lorcan noted how she was demoted in his mind, and you’d be ... free. 

All those years he’d spent making fun of those males now served to make him feel like a lot of an asshole because he gotit. There was a crack in his armor, a weakness in his resolve, and nobody knew about it. He intended to keep it that way until you were far, far away from him and his ... his Queen, and then as long as possible after that. His stomach clenched at the thought of what she might do to you in order to help keep him in line. Nothing good, and everything bad. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered primly, turning away from him. Why had he come over here again? 

He laughed, low and harshly. “Sure you don’t, sweetheart,” he exaggerated the last word - turning it into an insult. It didn’t feel right. His entire being flared against any insult to you, even coming from him. 

But ... the little flash of anger in your eyes, the way your nostrils flared, that was amusing. He liked the fire in you. “What did you call me?” 

He shrugged. 

You scoffed, muttering an insult he chose to ignore under your breath. “Nothing to say to that one?” You pushed when he didn’t answer, letting your elbow brush against his, “I thought it was creative. If you need me to I can keep going, there’s plenty where it came from.” 

“It was well done,” perhaps he wasn’t particularly in the mood to be insulted all night, and he got the sense you were more than capable of doing just that. 

“Well done,” you echoed, and he nodded. Your mouth curled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. 

-

In the future, you might just deny it ever happened, but Lorcan Salvaterre ended up in your apartment that night. You ignored the fact that he seemed to know the way there. There had always been plenty you were willing to ignore when it came to that male, and that hadn’t changed over the last however many lives. 

Once Lorcan - once he’d found his Queen, you’d been second. But before that, he’d made you his everything. You never could blame him for leading you to beg Maeve that first time, that cursed time. 

Still, on the nights when you were alone, when the rain or a pretty mountain outline reminded you of him, when everything felt too much, it was easier to pin it on him, even if it made you a horrible person. Horrible, even for an ex-lover, but then again you were always an expert at self-depreciation. 

Looking at the male now, like a statue of a God carved from granite, you knew he’d be the death of you. Again. But how could you fight him? You never had the strength to in the past. Maybe you weren’t trying to survive hard enough ... 

Things had never moved this quickly in the past, they’d always been at a pace just slow enough to be torturous with your knowledge of your impending doom. 

Maybe this time you needed to really try. 

For Lorcan. For Fenrys. But mostly, for yourself. 

The door closed behind you and you slipped back into reality, into the new situation you found yourself in. 

“Drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading right for your kitchen. 

He caught your hand, spinning you back towards him. 

“I had something else in mind,” he said roughly, and dipped his head towards yours. 

You knew he could be patient, he could be gentle, he could be kind, but you got none of that now. 

His hand gripped your jaw, tight enough to keep you still but not harsh enough to hurt, his mouth moved fervently against yours as you matched his pace. It was the collision of a thousand stars, a world breaking and re-forming into something new and beautiful and wonderful. It was everything and more. It was the multiverse coming together into a single moment and screaming yes! this is what you were waiting for. He slowed, softened, as if some kind of guilt caught up with him. You wouldn’t have that. Couldn’t. You gripped the back of his hair and pulled him back closer to you, pressing your body against his. 

He would be yours for the night, but little did he know you‘d already been his for eternity. 

-

You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing. You owe him nothing, Fenrys reminded himself as he walked out of the bar, spotting you teasing Lorcan. He’d finished his business meetings early and thought he might see if you were still haunting your favorite spot at the bar. 

Still, he wanted to rush up to you and ask you if you knew who the hell you were tangling with but ... he supposed he was like Lorcan in that way, one of Maeve’s Blood Sworn, and to have two of them shown publicly taking an interest in you was nothing short of deadly and he refused to subject you to that. So Fenrys left. 

And hated himself for it, but self hatred was nothing new to him. 

Fenrys wasn’t sure how he found Lorcan’s rooms, considering the male probably didn’t want to be found right now. Probably wanted to bask in you. Your beauty, the time he sp-

He stopped himself from thinking of it. Even thought of shifting now, to a body where emotions were simpler and didn’t drain quite so much. Fenrys rarely shifted voluntarily when away from her, not after she kept him in that form so frequently. ‘Where he was easier to deal with,’ she’d said once, and the words still stung as His Majesty, he thought the words mockingly, intended for them to. 

The door swung open. 

Lorcan didn’t speak, just stood there with his arms crossed and jaw clenched. 

Fenrys felt young, and not in a good way. What was he? A jealous lover? Concerned friend? Idiot? 

Then it hit him. 

The scent. 

Yours. 

His. 

Entwined. 

Without him. 

Rage, pure and strong filled him. The scent was particular, and he’d seen it just a few times before. Lorcan, intelligently, had a shield around himself before Fenrys he was on the verge of some kind of burst. 

“Not fucking possible,” Fenrys backed away, “we can’t have the same mate.” 

Lorcan’s eyes widened, but he was looking beyond him. Fenrys whirled around. 

You. 

“I can’t have a mate,” you said quietly, desperately. “I never have before,” then to yourself, “it’s never been like this,” you switched your gaze to the window, he watched you try to angle your face so they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes but they were evident. Everything was evident when it came to you. 

“Get inside,” Lorcan said roughly to both of you. 

He had a point, it wasn't exactly the space for this conversation. A hallway where anyone could be walking by and overhear. That’s the last thing he wanted, anything that might put you in further danger. 

When he didn’t instantly move, Lorcan grabbed his shirt, tugging him inside. There was a knife at Lorcan’s throat before the male could blink. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me,” Fenrys hissed, slowly sliding the knife away and sheathing it at his side. 

He was surprised his commander hadn’t caught it, but then again he was staring at a pretty female in the hallway, your gaze still distant and fixed on the window. He called your name, just loud enough to carry across the distance. Your head snapped, you blinked a few times. He tilted his head towards the room. 

An over-exaggerated sigh, probably for their sake more than anything, and then you followed them inside. Each step seemed to make you shrink further into yourself, he noticed, that confidence and bravado fading and leaving someone vulnerable behind. 

It took a strong hand to tamp down on instincts rising, telling him to eliminate any immediate threats to you. The main one being Lorcan, but also any other males and possibly females in the vicinity. It was absolutely ridiculous, the way he was feeling even if he wasn’t acting on it. At least he hadn’t acted on it. Yet. If only because he was well aware it would piss you off. 

-

“What did you mean, ‘it’s never been like this?’” Lorcan asked and you read the skepticism in his eyes. Not quite distrust, but an interesting mix of confusion and concern. That had the potential to change quickly. Could you even speak about it or would you drop dead? You’d always assumed you couldn’t but ... 

“I’m cursed,” you started. They exchanged a brief glance, and for some reason that irritated you, but you kept going. “We’ve met before. Many times,” you knew that would grab and probably keep their attention, at least for a little while. You held a hand up when their brows furrowed in concern, “just hear me out before you write me off as crazy.” 

“I would never write you off,” Fenrys murmured, and you shot him a thankful look but he kept his mouth shut after that. Perhaps it had something to do with the glare on Lorcan’s face. 

The words were difficult. 

Each one felt stilted and awkward, but they watched and listened as if each word you said was pure gold and something about that made you feel powerful. They went through the emotions with you, although it was a tad more difficult to tell with Lorcan, but you struggled together in a way. For some reason, it started to feel like this might turn into a goodbye and you weren’t quite ready for that. After all, you didn’t know how anyone could stay with someone ... someone with the kind of tainted past you have. 

“Why would she do that?” You finished. It a was rare chance to ask two people who probably have more insight than any others into how the mind of the Queen works, not that you believe she’d let anyone truly understand her. 

“Cruelty,” Fenrys said. 

The same time as Lorcan said, “jealousy.” 

“Makes sense,” you huffed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. It was stupid. 

“How do you end up reincarnated?” Lorcan asked. The question you were hoping to avoid. 

“I die.” 

“Of old age,” Fenrys said, but didn’t sound as if he believed it. 

“No,” you said sharply, exhaling. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“Try me. Believe it or not, I don’t find your death very funny,” Fenrys said dryly. Lorcan was watching with apt attention, eyes watching you like a hawk. 

“Heartbreak,” you grunted, quickly whirling towards - fuck. You’d meant to look out the window, but saw the mirror instead and the twin faces of horror behind you struck something deep inside of your heart. 

“I -” your throat closed up, the words not quite getting out. 

“What is it?” Fenrys curled his fingers inward, and despite a slight internal cringe you let him beckon you, let him take your hands, let him give you this kind of comfort. 

“I wish you remembered,” you whispered, glancing at Lorcan too, who’s eyes and face told you, yes he knew you were changing the subject, and no the conversation was not over yet. 

-

“I don’t -,” Lorcan Salvaterre stumbled over his words, perhaps for the first time in his life, “I don’t mind making new memories, as long as they’re with you.” 

You beamed. Fenrys laughed. He debated how upset you would be if he killed the other male. 

Other male. 

He knew, already, that he’d have to share you. 

For you, Lorcan could and would make anything work. You were worth everything, absolutely everything. 

Maeve, a voice whispered in his mind. He pushed it down, ignored it for now. That was an ... his Queen would never be an issue, but a situation he could deal with at a later date. 

He swore to himself he’d never make fun of a mated male again. Technically he wasn’t mated yet, but he would be ... soon, he had to be. Being your mate felt like an irrevocably necessary part of his soul, like he might die without it, without having that bond with you to tether him to this world and give him meaning. Meaning he’d been lacking his entire life. 

He didn’t know or care if Fenrys felt the same way but he supposed he should. He had an obligation to his mate’s mate, after all, outside of the fact that Fenrys is his bloodsworn brother. 

Bloodsworn.

His bones and blood chilled. He couldn’t be yours, not really. The realization threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not here - not in front of you. You needed him strong. 

He stood, abruptly, but didn’t care. He jerked his chin to Fenrys. “We need to talk,” he let his eyes say the rest. 

He found he didn’t like how some of the shine left Fenrys’s, how they dulled at the implication of their Queen’s existence. Too bad, for now. 

“Great. Secrets,” you muttered, and a slight smile threatened his lips, but you still waved them away. Perhaps you understood secrets better than anyone else. 

Lorcan led Fenrys to an adjacent room, and their shields went up at the same time. To keep any nosy females from overhearing. The more she knew, the more danger she was in. At least they were on the same page. 

“Where is safe for her?” Fenrys started. 

At least he had his priorities straight. 

“Antica,” Lorcan answered. Maeve didn’t dare touch the southern continent, yet. “For now,” he added for honesty’s sake. “The curse won’t break until Maeve is ...” He didn’t, couldn’t bring himself to, speak the words out loud, it felt too much like treason. 

“Dead,” Fenrys said for him. He had no problem with it, apparently. If Lorcan had been as insolent as the male in front of him, he would’ve been put to death long ago, and he knew that. Perhaps Fenrys didn’t, but it wasn’t the time for that conversation. “So we spirit her away, and then what? How do we keep her from dying?” 

“A blood promise.” 

“Like what?” Fenrys leaned back against the wall, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

“When the curse is broken, we will find her.” 

Antica. Hot, miserable, mate-less Antica. In truth, it wasn’t that miserable, but you'd be enjoying yourself a lot more if your mates hadn’t shipped you off here as quickly as they could. 

All in the name of keeping you ‘safe,’ you grimaced in the mirror, brushing down your hair, now frizzy slightly from the rare rain that breezed in the day before. They're and gone like a phantom, almost. Almost like their presences in your life. 

You could still remember their touches from that last night, firm but gentle, still tentative like new lovers can be. You thought you knew everything about their touch from the past, but even they kept some surprises across multi-verses, or maybe it had just been a while since it had been the three of you and your memory was getting poorer. 

Probably that. 

You pushed the door open, throwing yourself into the throng of people making their way to the one of the several monthly markets in the city. Throng of people, you thought. It was awfully busy. 

‘War,’

‘Sending us-’

‘Saved the princess,’

‘Foreign lord.’ 

The whispers hit your ears one by one like a drum. A war. Against who?

You stopped casually at the closest table, and sure enough the seller was chittering to the person who came before you about it. A war, and the khaganate would be marching for Aelin Galathynius. 

You rolled the name over on your tongue, it being vaguely familiar. Perhaps you should have kept up more with politics throughout the ages, you probably could’ve made a load of money betting, but that felt a tad too immoral, and you did fear the judgement of your own conscience. 

As soon as the intrigue was there, it was gone. You’d heard of several wars over the last two decades, the longest you'd lived so far, and none of them had brought your mates back to you. You seriously doubted this would be the one. 

You refused to acknowledge the ugly truth. They’d probably already forgotten about you. 

-

In the lonely and mindless hours stuck in his Wolf form, Fenrys thought of the beautiful female in Antica, and dreamed of a life without Maeve, however impossible it was he never stopped hoping.

The female screamed on the table in front of him, but he was frozen in time and space. All he could do right now was bear witness to the horrible crime in front of him. Aelin Galathynius deserved someone to bear witness to her pain and her strength. 

The female who should’ve been his Queen, and the female who was his mate had so much in common. Not necessarily appearance, but your attitude and the way you carried themselves. So much that being with her for those months had felt like an even larger blessing. It wasn’t infidelity, not by any means, but perhaps a bit wrong he was using Aelin as a proxy for you. 

The screams in front of him distracted him from his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. She’d passed out, he was waking her with some foul smelling cloth. Each day, he thought he’d reached the limits of what he could bear without closing his eyes, but somehow - because he knew you would do it - he managed to watch. Witness. Wait. It was all he could do now. 

- 

Lorcan Salvaterre knew he was a miserable male to be around, but traveling through Varese had turned him downright sour. At least internally. 

He knew he needed to get to Aelin, and he knew he needed to get to Fenrys. For the bond they shared with each other that they’d never told a soul about. If he didn’t get to him, you’d never ever forgive him. 

He might be too much off a coward to tell you, but he would know in his soul and that’s enough. He’d find Fenrys, get her away from him, do whatever it took. 

-

You woke up one morning with an unusual lightness, a ‘pep’ in your step, so to speak. You’d never understood that phrase until then, when you felt like all of your burdens and issues had been freed in a spare moment, like nothing could weigh you down right then. 

As usual, you got your gossip through the market, and it all made sense. 

Doranelle has a new Queen. 

Queen Maeve was killed in Terrasen. 

You were free. 

You tilted your head up towards the sky, and let the sun shine down on your face, not caring you were stopped in the middle of the park. From the corner of your eye you spotted an older woman copying your movements, not in a mocking way, but in a yes the sun is quite nice today way.

The flip side of your freedom meant your mates would be coming soon. They’d be coming soon. 

To Antica. 

To you. 

You scrambled back to your apartment to start packing. How long did it take to get from Terrasen here?

You paused halfway through throwing your closet onto your bed. 

A letter would’ve arrived by now, but you’d received no such thing. 

That night you fell asleep on top of your clothes. 

The next day you built the courage to put them away. 

You didn’t know where in the world they were now that Maeve is gone, and perhaps with the curse lifting they felt they no longer were obligated to be with you and love you, and maybe -

A familiar scent hit the same time as a knock on your door. 

You rushed to it, throwing it open finding ...

Both of them. Your mouth parted, words not quite leaving your lips. Finally, you managed a lame, “you came.” 

“We promised,” Lorcan said “Can we come in?” 

Yes, they obviously could, you swung the door wider and ushered them inside. 

“We came as soon as we could,” Fenrys promised. 

The silence was awkward for a few moments as the three of you tried to figure out how to navigate this. But, it was easy enough to break as you threw yourself at both of them, managing to catch each of them in a hug at the same time. 

“I forgot to tell you before I left,” you started, muffled in the shirts but knew they heard you. You’d memorized these words long ago. “I spent so long looking for all of the things that would kill me, I forgot the ones that made me feel alive. Both of you made me feel alive. Thank you.” 

[toskarin]

Since Bethesda was so insistent on moving away from Morrowind's combat system for Oblivion and Skyrim, what would you have replaced it with?

contrary to what it might seem, I don't think replacing the skyrim combat system wholesale with sekiro or dark souls is really a viable solution to the problem, because it's fun for a mod load order, but it definitely makes the game feel unskyrim

so I'd approach this more from the angle of "what needs to be added to fill the void left behind by the simplified combat"

design rambles below the break. this is less of me offering actual solutions and more of me just saying what I'd do if I were given all the resources and executive power in the world for it, from an armchair. and it goes without saying these are all just Opinions

one of the largest basic design issues with modern bethesda melee combat is that it's tied really hard into melee being a single button input. if they want to stick with that, they should at least implement directional attacks and blocking (which I'll mention now is not something new for TES) with a simple aiming scheme, possibly similar to mount&blade's

stealing something else from m&b while I'm at it, two attacks colliding from the same direction within a tight frame window should clash

enemies need to have attacks you don't want to get hit by. somewhere in their list of moves, enemies need to do something different that necessitates either dodging, blocking, or otherwise reacting in any way. they also need to gapclose, but that's a given

healing consumables need to have a cooldown. as funny as cramming items in your face by the stack during combat is, it's a bandaid to an enormous design flaw in melee combat not being interesting. if you really wanted, you could keep some of that flow by having a skill for mixing preexisting potions together into single doses

addendum to that previous point, players should have a hotbar that allows lower cooldown consumption of certain items, which cannot be reconfigured in combat

magic needs to be stronger and riskier. heavy armour should eat into your damage and efficiency significantly, medium armour should do it just a little bit, and casting past your magicka pool should start consuming health at twice the rate it consumes magicka

blocking should have a higher damage reduction cap (it is currently 85%-95% DR depending on armour) but scale depending on how precisely you block an attack and eat into your stamina much more (with a stagger at zero, to steal another mechanic)

as they are, the entire shout system is a symptom of bad design. having a cooldown-based system that gives non-magic characters spells removes the strongest incentive to play magic characters. I'm actually not sure what to even do about this one that doesn't involve cutting all of the overlapping skills and keeping its focus on weird utilities? as a rule, I kind of hate every gameplay concept that uses "this is something only the player can do" as its skeleton, so this is a tough one for me to poke at

hitstop

[probablyasocialecologist]

Ripping up concrete sidewalks and parking lots and instead planting urban forests and using less cars can all help to decrease indoor and outdoor air temperature. In cities with an abundance of water, “soft cooling” techniques using fans and pools can also greatly reduce extreme temperatures.

Many architects today are also changing how they design buildings: only providing AC in specific rooms instead of through a central heating system. This way, people can choose to open or close their windows if they want, while reducing the energy needed to cool the hallways and lobby areas.

If you face photovoltaic panels westward, you can time the peak electricity production from solar energy with peak electricity demand for cooling. Using better glass on buildings, external shading, increasing air movement and installing ceiling fans—all of these further reduce reliance on AC.

In the longer term, we can cool our streets by narrowing them, using less dark colors that absorb heat, and aligning streets to prevailing winds. There are also ways we can overhaul the way we do air conditioning itself.

Many cities already provide air-conditioned public spaces as a public health services; we could also redesign apartment buildings with social spaces for people to hang out, by, for example, transforming the much cooler basements into lounges.

We could build cooperative housing that is ecologically and efficiently designed, so that people can together manage their energy use and decide on their own innovations to lower temperature. Toronto has a district cooling system that uses cold water from the bottom of Lake Ontario, and then uses the warmed up water for the drinking water supply.

[simmervlogs]

Hilltop Hideaway

Hello Simmers, come and spend a weekend in Granite Fall's newly renovated vacation rental, Hilltop Hideaway.

The Hilltop Hideaway is the perfect home for a weekend getaway. The clients love to entertain, so the house was set up to create an open and casual atmosphere with a strong connection to the outdoors. The house is oriented toward the best view of the waterfall while maintaining good solar orientation for taking advantage of solar heat gain in the winter and keeping out the hot summer sun. The large roof over the living room serves to shade large areas of glass in the summer, while geothermal heat pumps and high levels of insulation help keep it warm and energy efficient in the winter. In such an extreme climate the house was specifically designed to withstand both extremes of the temperature spectrum. 

This property includes three bedrooms with their own bathrooms. Spacious yet moody, the property boasts high ceilings as well as uninterrupted views of the peaceful surroundings of Granite falls. The outdoor space offers a pool to lounge in during the summer heat as well as multiple hot tubs for the winter warmth. Multiple seating arrangements as well as a sunken fire pit is also available for you and your family to gather. The waterfall is immediately recognized from the kitchen. While the property may seem very open, it is equipped with security and privacy for you to relax on your holiday.

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders convenience ONLY.

Few of the CC files will need to be downloaded separately due to early access

Neat collection by Joyce (wardrobe)

Cypress collection by Sundays

Laundry Day required for washing machine and dryer for function, terrain from Outdoor camping pack used. 

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Granite Falls 50x50 lot

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

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[comic-sans-chan]

cursed modern human garashir au where ds9 is an old ruined resort that was built by some evil rich motherfuckers years ago and was recently seized back by the native people whose land and economy it had destroyed. it's since been converted into an affordable apartment complex sort of situation (just... with a pool, bar, restaraunts, spa and tennis court built into it lol) and is run by sisko and kira. since it is rundown, odo gets hired back on to keep kids from further vandalizing it and o'brien's team gets hired on from the nonprofit organization sisko works for to fix the place up best he can. dukat is the old overseer of the property who drops by sometimes to remind them he and his hospitality business still exist, and my, what a fine job they’ve done renovating the place! it’s actually nice again. sure would be a shame if someone bought the property out from under them (lmao jk kardasi hospitality and starfleet are friends! no hard feelings. they should collaborate on some future projects, actually).

garak's a sad bitch who just lost his amazing morally dubious nepotism career at obsidian corp. (which absorbed kardasi hospitality) and moved into the complex just for the comfortingly familiar architecture. even tho he's not on the payroll for his (secret) dad's evil exploitative company anymore he's still vital to its continued efficiency and is an absolute sucker who still does unpaid shady work for them from time to time. so no one in the complex likes him, but also he's a very pleasant and fastidious queer man who pays his rent on time and has completely taken over the laundry room, to the benefit of everyone, because all the machines actually work now, it's always tidy, and there's a variety of forever-stocked detergents and soaps available, plus an iron?? there was not an iron before garak moved in. which is how it eventually becomes public knowledge that garak has an online tailoring and fashion design business, and he's actually pretty good at restoring clothes that get fucked by the washing machine or eaten by rats, soooo. yeah. they let him stick around.

meanwhile julian's a hot doctor who works at the local hospital and is absolutely buried in student debt that he refuses to let his moderately-wealthy family help him with because they're awful people who had him on illegal drugs without his knowledge since he was a little kid. they were afraid he had something wrong with him, apparently. he was too far behind in his class or w/e. they couldn't handle having a kid with special needs, so they pumped him full of dangerous experimental stimulants. only reason he found out is because he snuck off somewhere to start transitioning and had some tests done that revealed all the crazy shit in his system. he's insanely lucky he didn't end up in the hospital with seizures or fall into a coma or worse. not to mention his parents still dead-name him left and right over a decade later. it's a whole mess and a huge secret, because he technically has a history with illegal drug abuse, and it's a partially ongoing history because going cold turkey off drugs he's been on since he was six is Not A Good Idea, so??? fuck his life, actually. he lives in the apartment just down the hall from garak's. 

garak hates the country his dad's company expanded into and would like nothing better than to move back home, but it's not really logistically possible. especially since everyone there hates him cuz his (secret) dad's company is a mega-corporation that's completely taken over everything p much and is a complete monopoly nightmare, and he did... kinda... work there for decades. no one would hire him if he went back. it would be an extreme conflict of interest, since everyone wants to stay on tain's good side, including garak. but starfleet is interested in him, so he does some begrudging contract work for them sometimes, but he really has no desire to join them. he just wants to resume his old career and reclaim his assets.

julian's hospital is owned by starfleet, tho. his scholarship into medical school was also from starfleet, in fact--they're the only reason he was able to (sort of) afford becoming a doctor at all. so he's a big fan, even tho they are pretty hardcore anti-drugs in a way that's made him have to forge medical records and risk serious legal charges and prison time. julian comes across as a squeaky clean medical professional and an adorable idiot, but he's intimately familiar with back-alley dealings. which is kind of how he ends up helping garak with his drug addiction, and keeps said addiction off the record.

but basically, how it begins is julian likes to support the local restaurants in the complex and garak finds him there and thinks he's gorgeous, and it proceeds as expected. they fuck nasty and become codependent. ten years later, julian lives in a modest house with garak in his home country and garak irons all his old university hoodies.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Meet Hardhat Ken!

This Ken is the last tool you'll ever have to buy! He's equipped with all the handiest supplies and know-how to keep anything up and running, but he's also the perfect tool for all the heavy lifting you don't want to do.

He loves to be put to use!

Hardhat Ken can easily lift over 400lbs. He's our strongest model yet! Construction companies all over the globe have already ordered this Ken in bulk, so you'll be seeing a lot of him hard at work around your town. Just think of how efficient he'll be, working around the clock with no need for breaks or compensation.

He's designed for grueling manual labor, but he'll be content getting any work done, whether he's installing pool in your backyard or just fixing your sink. Hardhat Ken is happy to be your personal handyman, and he's got the perfect tool for every job!

But this Ken isn't just a mindless worker drone, he loves to kick back and sip a beer with you, his boss, at the end of a long day. You can even make him break out his biggest tool. He's happy to be of use in any way his boss wants!

[ceasarslegion]

Thought I just had during my bedtime knowledge reading: if your feet are designed to let your blood pool in them in response to gravity, does lying down help you rest more efficiently because you're evening out where your blood is pooling through your whole body, thereby giving your organs and brain more and fresher nutrients to replenish themselves?

Also, is the reason my feet swell up on airplanes because my body went very high very fast and gravity pulled more blood down to them?

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Hate Speech

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

June 30, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUL 01, 2024

In addition to his comments about Russia in Ukraine, Trump said something else in Thursday’s CNN presentation that should be called out for its embrace of one of the darkest moments in U.S. history. 

In response to a question about what the presidential candidates would say to a Black voter disappointed with racial progress in the United States, President Joe Biden pointed out that, while there was still far to go, more Black businesses were started under his administration than at any other time in U.S. history, that black unemployment is at a historic low, and that the administration has relieved student debt, invested in historically Black colleges and universities, and is working to provide for childcare costs, all issues that affect Black Americans. 

In contrast, Trump said: “As sure as you’re sitting there, the fact is that his big kill on the Black people is the millions of people that he’s allowed to come in through the border. They're taking Black jobs now and it could be 18. It could be 19 and even 20 million people. They’re taking Black jobs and they’re taking Hispanic jobs and you haven’t seen it yet, but you’re going to see something that’s going to be the worst in our history.” 

Trump was obviously falling back on the point he had prepared to rely on in this election: that immigration is destroying our country. He exaggerated the numbers of incoming migrants and warned that there is worse to come.

But what jumped out is his phrase: “They’re taking Black jobs and they’re taking Hispanic jobs.” 

In U.S. history it has been commonplace for political leaders to try to garner power by warning their voters that some minority group is coming for their jobs. In the 1840s, Know-Nothings in Boston warned native-born voters about Irish immigrants; in 1862 and 1864, Democrats tried to whip up support by warning Irish immigrants that after Republicans fought to end enslavement, Black Americans would move north and take their jobs. In the 1870s, Californian Denis Kearney of the Workingman’s Party drew voters to his standard by warning that Chinese immigrants were taking their jobs and insisted: “The Chinese Must Go!” 

And those were just the early days.

But while they are related, there is a key difference between these racist appeals and the racism that Trump exhibited on Thursday. Politicians have often tried to get votes by warning that outsiders would draw from a pool of jobs that potential voters wanted themselves. Trump’s comments the other night drew on that racism but reached back much further to the idea that there are certain jobs that are “Black” or “Hispanic.”

This is not a new idea in the United States. 

“In all social systems there must be a class to do the menial duties, to perform the drudgery of life,” South Carolina senator James Henry Hammond told his colleagues in 1858. “That is, a class requiring but a low order of intellect and but little skill. Its requisites are vigor, docility, fidelity. Such a class you must have, or you would not have that other class which leads progress, civilization, and refinement. It constitutes the very mud-sill of society and of political government; and you might as well attempt to build a house in the air, as to build either the one or the other, except on this mud-sill.” 

Capital produced by the labor of mudsills would concentrate in the hands of the upper class, who would use it efficiently and intelligently to develop society. Their guidance elevated those weak-minded but strong-muscled people in the mudsill class, who were “happy, content, unaspiring, and utterly incapable, from intellectual weakness, ever to give us any trouble by their aspirations.”

Southern leaders were smart enough to have designated a different race as their society’s mudsills, Hammond said, but in the North the “whole hireling class of manual laborers and ‘operatives,’ as you call them, are essentially slaves.” This created a political problem for northerners, for the majority of the population made up that lower class. “If they knew the tremendous secret, that the ballot-box is stronger than ‘an army with banners,’ and could combine, where would you be?” Hammond asked his colleagues who insisted that all people were created equal. “Your society would be reconstructed, your government overthrown, your property divided.” 

The only true way to look at the world was to understand that some people were better than others and had the right and maybe the duty, to rule. “I repudiate, as ridiculously absurd, that much-lauded but nowhere accredited dogma of Mr. Jefferson, that ‘all men are born equal’” Hammond wrote, and it was on this theory that some people are better than others that southern enslavers based their proposed new nation. 

“Our new government is founded…upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery subordination to the superior race is his natural and normal condition. This, our new government, is the first, in the history of the world, based upon this great physical, philosophical and moral truth,” Alexander Stephens, vice president of the Confederacy, told supporters. 

Not everyone agreed. For his part, rising politician Abraham Lincoln stood on the Declaration of Independence. Months after Hammond’s speech, Lincoln addressed German immigrants in Chicago. Arguments that some races are “inferior,” he said, would “rub out the sentiment of liberty in the country, and…transform this Government into a government of some other form.” The idea that it is beneficial for some people to be dominated by others, he said, is the argument “that kings have made for enslaving the people in all ages of the world…. Turn in whatever way you will—whether it come from the mouth of a King, an excuse for enslaving the people of his country, or from the mouth of men of one race as a reason for enslaving the men of another race, it is all the same old serpent.” 

According to the mudsill theory, he said the following year, “a blind horse upon a tread-mill, is a perfect illustration of what a laborer should be—all the better for being blind, that he could not tread out of place, or kick understandingly. According to that theory, the education of laborers, is not only useless, but pernicious, and dangerous.” He disagreed. “[T]here is not, of necessity, any such thing as the free hired laborer being fixed to that condition for life.”

He went on to tie the mudsill theory to the larger principles of the United States. “I should like to know if taking this old Declaration of Independence, which declares that all men are equal upon principle and making exceptions to it, where will it stop,” he said. “If that declaration is not the truth, let us get the Statute book, in which we find it and tear it out!” To cries of “No, no,” he concluded to cheers: “Let us stick to it then. Let us stand firmly by it.” 

One hundred and sixty-six years later, Black and Hispanic social media users have answered Trump’s statement about “Black jobs” and “Hispanic jobs” with photos of themselves in highly skilled professional positions. But while they did so with good humor, they were illustrating for the modern world the principle Lincoln articulated: in the United States there should be no such thing as “Black jobs” or “Hispanic jobs.” 

Such a construction directly contradicts the principles of the Declaration of Independence and ignores the victory of the United States in the Civil War. Anyone who sees the world through such a lens is on the wrong side of history. 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[rev-xce]

The third death is that moment, when your name is spoken for the last time.

i felt like drawing a older worldbuilding concept i made a few months back with my friends. This world has been torn apart by war and strife and demons are rapidly born by the minute through the strong emotions of living creatures.

Humanity has given up on the older gods, and through their desperation, birthed a new "god".

Demons(general): Born of strong emotions, feelings or memories. Will have a core of some sort which when destroyed, kills the demon.

The "god": Born out of humanity's need and want for a saviour, Is able to destroy existences. There is a very messy line between what the "god" considers a crime, and anything it considers a crime is unforgiveable. The offender will be reduced to a Intruder, nothing more than a shadow.

The "god" is also very hellbent on destroying/absorbing demons and the current world outside the hotel is being purged as it deems fit.

The liminal hotel: a entity that offers shelter to demons it deems worthy/contracts for upkeep. Demons fight for a spot in the hotel as the outside world is dangerous for them.

Hotel demons: are assigned to different sections such as: the lounge, front desk and halls, casino, pools, etc and their job is to rid any intruder that steps foot into the hotel.

Hotel demons who are not able to carry out their duties will be kicked out and their spot given to another demon. Some hotel demons are powerful, gaining the respect of the hotel. These few demons are left untouched as they may be useful.

Intruders: Humans stripped of their colors and names. They are left with only their shadows and form which resembles their physical body but are solid black with white eyes. They are tasked by the "god" to retrieve useful demon cores.

If exposed to the sun, their existence will be destroyed permanently, if they return without a core to the "god", they will also be destroyed.

Foxbell, the hotelier(designed for star), Core: one of the flowers on her body

Foxbell is the result of a demon merging souls with a girl. The original demon's birth cause is unknown, but Foxbell's motherly personality stems from the girl being raised by a kind mother. She may still have to dispatch Intruders but she feels particularly sorry if it is a child Intruder.

She is also one of the oldest demons to stick around in the hotel for duty as she is very efficient at upkeep. Many hotel demons respect her for her prowess as well. (P.s. she is prone to sparing "hot" intruders)

art done by @lil-starshooter

Moss Father and Moss Babies(designed and created by star)

Liminal space: Hotel lobby/hallways

Moss Father is a old demon which resides upon the roof garden of the hotel. He generally wanders around occasionally, all the while dripping dirt and moss everywhere. This in turns creates these little mosslings whom are very harmless and more likely to try to play with the Intruders. But ever since Foxbell lost her shit at Moss Father for dragging dirt everywhere, he has remained spooked and begrudgingly tries not to mess up any clean floors.

Foxbell has also taken custody of all the mosslings(they have dessert names)

Droupe, the lounge overseer

Droupe is a demon who was born through a butterfly's strong desire to be let free of a closed off room, they have a calm demeanour and is passive to the other hotel demons. Their stained glass wings cast colorful shadows as they soar above their section.

Liminal Space: A hotel lounge that appears to be exposed and falling apart, frozen in a starry night sky. Gumball and vending machines litter the space and even potted plants are perfectly still in time.

Droupe's powers are time based and their core is that of a stopwatch.

The above characters are the most outlined with refs, there are more characters but they will need a proper follow up post with more ironed up info. But here are some more art from me, star and @denziru of hotel demons^^

characters to be expanded upon in a diff post: Sire and Madame, Duskdare, RatKing, Estelle

[howtobecomeadragon]

mike gets sunburnt every summer. he tries to remember his sunblock, he really does, but sometimes it slips his mind. sometimes he does put it on but he then forgot to re-apply the sunblock after his first application washed off when he swam or when he was outside all afternoon.

either way, he inevitably always burns. he withstands the teasing from the others for a week, puts aloe vera on his burns with annoyance every day at his mom's insistence. and then his skin starts to get a little bit itchy and then suddenly, his sunburn is peeling.

will is his designated sunburn skin peeler. when lucas did it, he wasn't delicate enough and ended up peeling it to the unsunburnt edges of his skin, causing it to sting and pull. mike always ended up smacking lucas's hands away with a loud "ow, shit, stop!" lucas rolled his eyes at him and told him, "fine, you can keep looking nasty with all your peeling skin." when dustin peeled the sunburnt skin, he always got grossed out, making fake retching noises to make will and lucas laugh, and made distressed groans when faced with a back full of mike's peeling sunburnt skin. mike would call out "this means it's healing, okay! the skin underneath is healthy and not burnt. just do it!"

that left will. he was patient and gentle with his artist's fingers. when he peeled some sunburnt skin that stung, mike hissed in pain and will immediately stopped, whispering, "sorry, sorry. maybe i'll get that one in a few days." when will got a big peel, he showed it to mike with his nose scrunched up, looking a little grossed out but also delighted with sick fascination.

what his peeling sunburnt skin really was was a good exercise in trust. mike didn't love his body all the time. he took his shirt off to swim, got sunburnt on his back and shoulders, and then he couldn't reach the peeling skin as the sunburn faded. the peeling skin made him feel gross, entirely and overwhelmingly self-conscious by how disgusting it looked. and to get it off, he had to take his shirt off again to show it to someone and ask them to help.

will's fingers on his back always made him shiver a little bit. cooler fingers on burnt skin, perhaps. but he was often just red and flushed with the exposure of it all, and maybe that's why he shivered. his bare back being face up surrounded by his fully clothed friends, dustin making jokes about it all, lucas itching to meticulously get rid of all peeling skin with ruthless efficiency.

will helped. he made mike shiver but he helped. he was quiet in a way that mike knew probably just reflected his focus, similar to his focus while painting, but it also allowed time for mike to breathe through his anxiety and his discomfort at being shirtless like this. he wondered what will thought about his back, if his shoulders seemed broad enough, if he had too many moles, if he seemed too skinny or not skinny enough. maybe not muscular enough.

he always managed to breathe through it though, and on the other side, will would quietly say something funny or sweet or distracting, and mike could stop thinking for a moment about will seeing him half naked with gross, peeling skin.

when will was done, he laid a warm hand on mike's back, up between his shoulder blades. it was soft and fleeting but reassuring, and will announced, "all done! it looks a lot better." and he took his hand away.

mike sat up, reached around to feel his back feeling much smoother, and grinned gratefully at will. he shrugged his shirt back on and said, "oh my god, thank you so much. last sunburn of the summer, i promise."

will snorted and said, "sure."

but next time they went to the pool, once they all got out of the pool, will tossed him some sunblock and said, with a twinkle in his eyes, "put some on, okay? i can help if you can't reach your back." but then he averted his eyes quickly as mike flipped open the cap on the sunblock.

mike didn't need help applying it. but he thought about will's offer. he thought about it all afternoon and it hung in his mind for hours after he got home. he thankfully didn't get sunburnt after he put on a second application of sunblock.

he thought some more about will's offer and the way his eyes turned away as mike awkwardly put the sunblock on in front of all the people at the pool. maybe will knew he felt a little uncomfortable shirtless and being looked at too much. maybe mike wouldn't have minded if will had looked, though. will's eyes were always soft and gentle and held a feeling in them that helped mike relax in his skin.

he called will that night. mike thanked him for the extra sunblock and the reminder to put on a second coat, and reported that he was currently sunburn-free. will laughed and brushed off the gratitude like it was nothing. it was late so they both spoke quietly into their phones, mike cradling the handset close to his mouth.

"so maybe you can make it through the summer with no more sunburns, huh?" will asked. he laughed and added, "no more peeling skin to deal with."

mike's head was fuzzy because it had been a long, sun soaked day, and they were already well into the night. he thought of will offering to apply the sunblock again, and of the shiver mike felt at will looking at his back. it was anxiety of being looked at mixed with... something. something that felt like butterflies or the shiver you get from a fever, the flush of a sun kissed cheeks, the comfort of wanting to be soft and quiet on the phone with his best friend late into the night. it reminded him of how he felt watching will get tanner and tanner all summer long, while mike just got pink over and over again. it was how he felt when will took off his shirt to swim, when mike saw the tan line on his arm from wearing t-shirts in the sun all summer. it was the flutter he got from will's scrunched up nose, his big smile, his laugh.

mike's head was buzzing and his heart was pounding out of his chest. the words tumbled out of him, not responding to what will had said at all. "do you want to go to a movie with me tomorrow night?"

there was quiet on the other end of the phone, mike could just hear will's breathing for a few moments.

"like with lucas and dustin?"

mike rushed to answer, "no. no. just you and me. i want to take you to the movies."

quiet again, before will said, speaking quickly and fumbling a little, "yeah, that sounds really fun. let's do that."

mike held the phone handset even closer to his face, as if that would help him see will from across town and know exactly what he was feeling. "no risk of a sunburn at the movies," mike joked.

will laughed quietly and said, "no, it should be a safe place for you."

mike thought to himself, absently, as if floating, that right next to will was always a safe place for him. once he grabbed onto the thought, it hit him hard.

he whispered quietly into the dark, "i'll get us icee's and some candy tomorrow night. whatever you want"

will's voice floated back to him, a little breathless with a small laugh. "i don't need much, mike. i'll just be happy with some reece's pieces. it'll be fun even... even without any candy. it's always fun going to the movies with you."

mike grinned and resisted the urge to bury his face in his pillow. "yeah. yeah, it is. i'll get you some candy anyway though."

mike hoped, as they said goodnight and hung up their phones, that will knew. he hoped that will could tell what mike meant, what was just beneath his words. will always seemed to get him, so he probably did. if not, mike was going to hold his hand at the movies the next night anyway, and will would definitely figure it out then. will's hand in his would probably be just as soft and reassuring as it was when it rested on mike's shirtless back.

mike had a little shiver at the thought before falling asleep.

[ffashenanigans]

Formula

Part 3

[Part 1][Part 2]

Back to the present from Part 1! The full effect of the formula on the man is becoming clearer.

—————

That had been a year ago now and the man moaned as his bed finally completed pushing him into a sitting position. He suckled hard on his liquid tube and the drool quickly pooled from behind the hose and cascaded down his chins, his desires triggered by the sounds of the conveyor belts and the pumping of his belly cord.

The AI sensed his arousal before he even fully felt it and the hose attached to his dick began sucking furiously. He came hard just as the hands brought delicious morsels to his mouth. Only then did he release his tube and munch greedily.

His arms had been useless for a year and he had lost the ability to significantly move his head months ago. He no longer expended any energy besides what he needed to move his mouth and that had caused his body to explode with fat. His days were spent being fed by mechanical arms then advanced machines at night. The man’s every whim answered with insane efficiency.

He was an immense monument to unfettered gluttony. His body spread out in every direction and the slightest quiver would set off long undulations of his flesh. Arms so laden with adipose that they were now immoveable, not even his fingers and hands could escape the excess calories. The fat from his wrists encased the majority of his hands, only the tips of his fat fingers peeked out from the rolls. His arms sat comfortably on the fat that entombed him. His numerous chins led to two massive breasts that spread out over the thick roll that was the start of his incredible belly. It was his proudest creation. So huge that even when sitting up, it was still in his vision, slowly becoming the only thing he could see despite the height of the television monitors above him. His thighs, though partly buried under his belly ages ago, had become useless the moment he decided to never get up again. They were piled with fat and his feet were in the same predicament as his hands: buried under the rolls of his ankles; toes barely visible.

His ass had grown exponentially, the fat accumulating and raising his skeleton higher. His body’s position on the bed made it that the best way to even get close enough to his head was from behind, but even then a person would have to stretch their arms to reach due to the intense neck rolls and back fat pushing him forward.

He could feel how much surface area his belly took up, though he couldn’t possibly see it himself. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he swore he could feel every millimeter his fat was slowly covering as he added more and more calories to his body. His bed had been changed out not all that long ago, but he couldn’t really tell time anymore as his life had descended into one of pure fattening bliss. However, he knew it would have to be upgraded any day now, his massive body barely capable of being raised by the intricate pulley system. It was an inevitability he would soon be incapable of being lifted by anything other than construction machinery—barley. Soon, his flesh would fall over the sides of the bed, something he absolutely hated the feel of, that damnable gravity, and his employees would be left with the task of figuring out what to do with him. A part of him loved knowing so much of his business went to keeping him alive and joyful; cooking and feeding him. Departments designed for the sole purpose of achieving the endless goal of his growth.

Even though the edge of his stomach was so far away, he could still feel the wonderful new, soft flesh joining the rest of his belly’s constant jiggling. He let out a mumble between gobbles and mechanical arms whirled down to apply lotion to the end of his stomach, their metal fingers moving across the deep stretch marks. The happy snorts he made triggered more arms to descend down and start massaging the rest of his momentous belly, the lotion being applied and gently smeared all across his quivering flesh.

The jostling had caused his belly to begin sloshing once more, the food in his stomach moving to and fro, and he released a loud burp through the food still being stuffed down his gullet. It caused him to spit up once more, but he didn’t even stop his eating. Instead, he waited for the mechanical arms to clean it up and bring it back to his lips while he chewed the offerings from the other arms, lapping it up in between bites.

He suddenly felt movement to the right of him on his cascading flesh. The man released a delightful moan as he realized what it was. His sweet baby brother must finally be awake! His scanned excitement caused the hands to move faster to feed him, thinking he simply wanted more food, but his disapproving snorts encouraged them to slow back down. However, he didn’t cease his consumption as he waited to see his baby’s face.

It was taking longer than usual. The vibrations shifted to that of a struggle and he became worried. Through his gobbles, he was able to give a command to help his brother and he saw multiple metallic arms descend out of the corner of his eye, just barely visible past his full, fat cheeks. He felt what amounted to a ‘pop’, like a suction cup finally released. Only slightly audible above the sounds of pumping and the workings of his digestion was a deep breath and coughs.

“Bro-,” he swallowed quickly, “-ther?” It was difficult to talk when your mouth was constantly being filled. Another annoyance.

The movement on his body changed to that of climbing and finally his brother’s beautiful face crested his massive right moob and the man smiled. It dropped once he took in his brother’s disheveled state. His gorgeous brown hair, peppered with highlights of blonde, inherited from their mother, was a mess, eyes still wide from fear, and sweat dripping from his brow.

“What?” He chewed a few more bites. “Hap—,” a quick swallow, “—pend?”

His brother stared at him for a moment then shook his head. “I…I fell asleep on you like normal, but, I…” The young man looked behind and down then back at his brother. “Fell in?”

The man curled an eyebrow and the little brother continued. “I guess I somehow fell into one of your deep rolls. I woke up and was trapped! I…I couldn’t get out.”

The fat man’s eyes widened and for the first time in a long while, he wished he could still move his arms and his hands so he could rub his little brother’s back to comfort him. Instead, the slight movement he subconsciously made in response to his brother’s fear caused his whole body to move like a wave. He watched as his brother grabbed onto his moob to steady himself and not tumble down his cliffs of fat.

Then his baby brother frowned. He hated when he frowned. There should be no need. His little brother had everything he could ever want! Of course, he had to admit he had become overly clingy in the last year. As the only person the man ever got to see anymore, he had become obsessed with having his little brother with him as often as possible. He would complain the moment his brother would return from his short trips away from their home. The complaints were difficult to articulate through his constant eating, but it was always so upsetting. He had given his brother everything! He would give him the entire world if it had a sticker price! The man had already written a will(that he hoped would never have to be used due to the formula, but wrote one regardless) that gave his brother his entire company, assets, EVERYTHING! The least he could do was stay by his older brother’s side. His father in all but name.

Yes, his greed and gluttony had extended to everything else in his life. Not even his little brother was spared. He even hated it when his brother had to leave the room to use the restroom or fetch a book to busy himself. Every second he wasn't with him was agony, one possibly worse than the feeling of hunger. (He tried to forget the shocked look on his brother’s face when he suggested he too have tubes attached so he no longer had to leave him.)

”I’m.” More swallowing and chewing. “Sorry, my,” a gulp, “sweet-,” more eating, “-brother.”

His little brother’s frown didn’t shift. He looked around at the expanse of his older brother then back at his face.

“I…I need to talk to you…” He whispered. The man blinked a few times, a slight anxiety rising in the back of his head, but nodded as he chewed.

“Without you eating. Stop for now so you can talk to me.”

The man moaned sadly, but was able to communicate to the computer to stop feeding him. He looked towards his little brother expectantly and pushed down the tantrum his mind was having over the loss of food.

“I know that…your health isn’t a factor. The formula has been upgraded many times and can continue to be, but.”

The man found himself forcing his brain to pay attention, to not think about how much he wanted to continue eating. He kept his eyes locked with his brother’s.

“I’m still worried, big brother. My worry has been growing,” his brother paused and looked over his older brother’s mass at the word, “because this…this isn’t healthy. Maybe no longer physically, but definitely, um, mentally.”

Mentally. Mentally. He tried to focus on his brother’s last word as to not have his mind wander to the increasing problem of his lack of constant eating. He was salivating, heavily, and could feel the drool pooling in his mouth, flowing past his lips and down his chins in waves. His stomach was starting to make sounds, angry sounds.

He had to keep paying attention. He had to keep from eating. It was what his precious brother wanted and he had to give it to him.

The mechanical arms descended and began rubbing the flesh of his belly.

His little brother must have heard the discontent of his stomach since he absently patted it as he continued. “You haven’t been yourself lately! Yo-you even suggested I should be all hooked up and stuff, like you are! That’s…that’s insane! I love you so, so, so very much! I, I, I blame myself! I wanted you to finally have something of your own to enjoy after so many years of you taking care of me! Sacrificing for me! But this?! Brother, I almost suffocated in your rolls! Sleeping on you like you prefer! Big brother?”

The younger brother had finally noticed the pained expression on his older brother’s face. It was excruciating! The intense sharp pains emanating from his belly couldn’t be ignored anymore, but he stubbornly kept himself from commanding the arms to return to their loyal feeding. He had to do this for his baby brother! It was like his stomach was dying without the steady flow of food down his gullet. Even for a few minutes! The slobber now pulled in the cleavage of his huge breasts. His mouth never completely shut anymore anyway unless he was chewing, the weight of his chins pulled down his lower jaw, and his fat cheeks kept his lips pursed. A mechanical hand brought the vacuum hose down to suck the pooling liquid away while multiple hands busied themselves wiping up the remaining drool. It was all for naught. His salivating wasn’t decreasing, but only intensifying.

“My precious, I’m so…” It was still difficult to speak even without the food being crammed past his lips. The fat that pressed down on his larynx didn’t help and had caused his voice to become even deeper than it once was. “So sorry. But it’s too late. You…you know that. I’m trying, though…right now…I’m trying.” His voice hitched at the end, tears welling up in his eyes. But he was ashamed. Ashamed because the tears weren’t entirely for his brother’s honest words, but also, and possibly moreso, for his poor, poor stomach. Its roars of discontent now echoed in his room. A desperate moan escaped from him, but he still used all of what was left of his self-control to keep from calling for the arms.

“You…you can’t even stop eating for a few minutes to talk to me, can you?” His brother asked sadly, his own tears falling down his precious cheeks.

The older brother shut his eyes in pain for a minute, but answered, “No, no, I can. I’m trying!” His last word was filled with desperation and heartache. He could do this. He can finish this conversation without meat and cake and all else he fancied being pushed down his throat. He had to!

“I’m just so worried, big brother! All you think about is food and how you can get more. You are massive, brother! I…I didn’t even know a person could get this big! Jesus, you’re over three tons now! Mentally, I don’t know where your head is anymore. I even heard some of the scientists talking about how you’ve ordered a larger gastronomy tube! Why?! Yo-you know how invasive changing out your current one is! For godsakes, your fat has fused to it!”

A freight train of hunger hit him at breakneck speed. He released a deep yell at the pain.

“Brother?”

Then it happened. An alarm went off and a multitude of machine arms dropped down. The conveyor belt laden with food started up again as the hands quickly picked up plates and started to feed him. No! He tried to shut his mouth the best he could, his attempts to turn his head away all in vain; a mechanical hand gripped his first chin and began making the movements of chewing for him.

He truly cried now as he looked over at his little brother, the younger man’s eyes full of terror and acceptance.

His brother had left after mentioning he was going to talk to the head scientist, the last glance towards his big brother full of confusion and worry.

For the short time his little brother was gone, the man was in a constant tug of war between his hate of himself for upsetting his brother and the anger his stomach was communicating to him. Even after the hands started feeding him again, rage filled pain would shoot through him when he chewed. Something had irrevocably changed with his body and he felt guilty over the fact his mind and stomach were irritated with his brother. If he had just let him continue eating during their conversation then this wouldn’t be happening! If he could, he would have shook his head to dissipate such thoughts. His little brother had come to him honestly and with worried love. He shouldn’t be mad at him about it, but empathetic! Although he was sorry, he still couldn't shake the anger at his feasting being interrupted, especially since his belly was encouraging the bother.

Now, it seemed his stomach truly never wanted it to happen again and it was dawning on him that even the time it took to chew was too long for his body to handle.

After what felt like days, but had to be at most an hour, and his growing irritation that his brother dared to leave his side, the little one returned with the lead scientist in tow.

“It happened while I was talking to him. He stopped eating and it had to have been only minutes before everything changed! Like he was in excruciating pain!” The massively obese man wanted to correct him and state how it wasn’t ‘like’ excruciating pain, but exactly that! There was no way he was stopping eating to say even one word.

“The arms! The arms came down and started stuffing food into his mouth without him asking for it! I could tell he was fighting it, but they just made him chew! I figured you would know what’s happening. What did you and the others come up with?” His little brother’s words were filled with desperation.

The lead scientist looked over the quivering mass, the stretch marked skin glistening with sweat, and shook his head. “I was afraid of this. We all were. But he pays us better than any employer could ever do for scientists, so we did as asked. We always do.” He placed his hand on the man’s stomach and both he and the little brother could tell, even as slight as it was, the fat creeping past the hand. Growing right before their eyes.

“The formula changes his body on a molecular level so he can live out this fantasy of endless food. But it has gotten away from him. From us. It has changed his body so that he can’t even stop filling his stomach for a moment. His body has evolved, something that would normally take generations upon generations completed for one person in a matter of years. It would be a celebrated scientific achievement if it wasn’t so…” he petered off.

”So, terrifying?” The little brother finished. The scientist nodded.

“Honestly, this is dark science. This is the kind of thing we should morally never try to do, but the money! After what we’ve done to him, the only thing left is to continue to do as he says, or at least, what his body wants. Even without the NDA’s and his hush money to keep the formula from anyone, so he could have it all to himself…I don’t think anyone working on it would ever reveal it to the public. Look what it has done to him!”

The younger brother swallowed hard in barely restrained horror. His big brother was at the point of no return. No amount of begging was going to change the fact that his beloved brother’s body could no longer handle any interruption in food.

Alarms sounded from the multiple computer monitors located near the fat man’s head causing the scientist to run around his boss’s huge body to check the read outs. The little brother followed, his hand sliding across his older brother’s flesh as he walked.

As he rounded the widest part of his brother’s body, he could finally make out pained moans echoing down from where his big brother’s head should be, though he could only barely see the tuft of dark brown hair past his swollen neck rolls.

He found the scientist furiously typing away at a keyboard. Different percentages and charts flickered across the screens until they stopped on a simplistic image representing his big brother’s stomach.

“Dammit!”

“What, um, what’s wrong?” The little brother queried, apprehension clear in his words.

“I was worried about this! Whenever he stops to chew in between the robotic feeding, it’s causing him sharp pain in his stomach. His body can’t even wait for him to take bites!

The little brother’s eyes widened and he came up behind his brother and lovingly massaged a massive back roll

“What…what has to be done?” He whispered, the head scientist barely hearing him over the sound of pumping liquid and non-stop noises of digestion.

“The direct feeding tube that is inserted down his throat at night, well, will have to be permanent.” The scientist sighed and hit a few more buttons which heralded the familiar sound of the mechanical arm bringing down the feeding tube.

“Wait!”

The scientist pressed a key, stopping the machine, and turned to his boss’s younger brother.

”Please. Let me tell him first.”

———

One last chapter to go.