#Plumbing Work Tenders

[squishysoftmonsters]

Triggers : Sexual Content/Expansion/[Mature +18 Minors /Ageless DNI]

💚Imagine trying to use the water in your home..but it was green otherworldly slime that had the feeling of man jizz..

Imagine coming home after a hard day of work. You hear squelches,scrambling and chitter sounds,as if little monsters invaded the plumbing of your house.

Usual bathroom time for you was 3am..but your tired eyes focused on a lengthy mass that seemed to be asleep in the sink. Its glow was very faint. You thought it was an alien leech.

Nervously turning on the light,it was several glowing penile eel monsters that screeched awake once the light hit them,trying to scramble out of the sink. They squished and writhed free of your firm hold,slithering back into hiding.

You : Seriously,dildo monsters in my house? This can't be happening to me..

You sighed looking at your impressive collection and dropped your face into your hands while sitting on your bed. The plumber would laugh his ass off with you trying to explain that living dildo monsters are affecting the quality of water. Who could you tell?

Your head did a u turn at a chitter under your bed,a single green eye staring into yours.

You : [softly] Its okay little guy. You can come out. Pun not intended.

A soft mrrrrp noise came from the penile alien creature as it inched toward your hand. The red and white banding throughout with teeth decor supporting it's body reminded of your favorite pour.

You lifted and petted it..Treating it like a little animal,building it a dark place to lay its soft head. Days went by,and you noticed your penis pet began to grow out of the little enclosure,features more and more defined.

You : They grow so fast. [gasps]

More mmrrrp noises came from your pipes,your sink..toilet and shower head. Soon your house was squirming with large penile aliens! Their tender knobs and teeth decor against your face.

You : [gasps] Oh dear...

The penile aliens began to poke where they shouldnt,but you were firm with them. You could'nt sleep with the mmrrp noises,and being covered in their slime,as they turned demanding..fighting to be intimate with you.

Over time they became aggressive and jealous as you spent intimate time with your toys and not them. Their warm,pleasant smelling bodies began to pile and wrap you,screeching and fighting for your holes.

You : [snarls] Bad..BAD.

You yelped as one went in you,stretching your stomach,then your knees buckled and you collapsed.

The mmrrp noises became erratic as they stuffed you. It felt horrible,but it felt good too. Weighted,full and gurgling,you panted and wobbled around your house,feeling them rhythmically pump you from inside.

You : [weak laughter] Eheh..

You fell to the floor,squirming and gasping in orgasm,spurting slime as the alien penile monsters had their way with you. Fat and engorged,you looked like an round egg on the ground,enjoying the pleasurable fullness of being stuffed from inside.

They climbed all over your body,sucking and biting on your body,covering you in hickeys. High from their pleasant smell,you did'nt fight them.

Their mmrrp noises were like music to your ears as you lulled to sleep in utter orgasmic bliss. You kept the penile aliens..and they kept you...

They took over your home..They became your everything...

Finding otherworldly Dick Monsters in your sink? Sign me up! Inspired by this post from the awesome @batbitestoys ! Their pours are gorgeous beyond belief..please show them love!

[disarm-you]

Confessions

Hi Everyone! I haven’t watched The Walking Dead in years. So I was incredibly surprised when Shane decided to join me recently on a hot girl walk.

I didn’t have the time to rewatch the first season but I did use TWD Wiki to fill in some of my blank spots. I took a couple of small liberties in Shane’s past but it shouldn’t be distracting to any diehard fans.

Tuna-Tober Prompt: “You can sleep here tonight.” Pairing: Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: You’re part of the group that ends up at the CDC during season 1 of TWD. You and Shane hook up after a few confessions. Some plot, lots of porn with feelings.

Content Warning: Unprotected PIV sex (don’t actually do that), hair pulling, no use of y/n, tenderness

Trigger Warning: Reader does get slightly overwhelmed at one point. But Shane notices something is off with her and checks in. Just an extra warning for more sensitive readers but everything here is consensual!

Word Count: 3,492

18+ below the cut. Thank you so much for reading! Gentle reminder that reblogs are the best way to support writers on here. XOXO

“I almost can’t believe this is real.” You say as you sit down on the bed next to Shane. Your group had arrived at the CDC earlier today. After introductions and discussions with Dr. Jenner, everyone had the best meal they had ever eaten, succeeded by hot showers and fresh clothes. 

“This feels surreal.” You say as you sit on the bed, eyeing the room around you. “It’s been months since the outbreak. All I’ve seen is loss. My sisters, my parents, my boyfriend, every single one of my friends. Hell, I’ve even lost my cat. All gone. In almost the blink of an eye the entire world changed.” You said with a large sigh. 

“We used to think we were struggling working eight hours a day and trying to pay our bills. We didn’t know what struggle was. And now to sit here on a soft bed after taking a hot shower with plumbing in an air conditioned room is a shock. I never realized precisely how much I took for granted. Not only is this room safe but this building is safe, except I don’t think my body knows how to feel safe anymore.” You tell Shane as tears begin to well in your eyes. 

“I also don’t think I ever took time to grieve. The hits kept on coming and if you didn’t keep moving you were next. Now I’m here sitting in what I used to take completely for granted: food, shelter and safety. But how long will this last?” You shrug your shoulders, head hanging in despair. The hot stream of tears in your eyes starts pouring faster and Shane tugs you in, holding you closely. 

“I know darling, I know.” He cradles you as he kisses the side of your head and you begin to sob. 

“Just get it all out.” He says as he rubs calming circles on your back. 

Shane sat patiently with you on the bed. He whispered calming words and just held you as you let the emotions cascade out of you. Your chest heaving with the pain, low back starting to ache from the position you were sitting in.  When you felt like there was nothing left, you remained in his lap not wanting to ruin the intimate moment between the two of you. Not that your bodies weren’t familiar with each other. You two had been hooking up since you joined the crew but emotions were never involved. There wasn’t time for that in this world. 

Shane waited a few minutes once you had started settling down.“You can sleep here tonight.” He murmured, his voice landing gruffly as he whispered in your ear. 

”Yeah, I do. But Shane, I’m not up for sex tonight.” You say quickly, averting your eyes from his. Your body tenses as you wait for his response. Normally, you wouldn’t think twice about fooling around with Shane but crying had left you with a throbbing headache. You were also feeling tired and emotionally vulnerable. What you needed most was a good night’s sleep. 

“Don’t you ever be ashamed to turn me down. You don’t owe me nothing.” He says while grabbing your chin to move your face towards his. Then he gives you the softest kiss on the forehead before laying you both down. 

“Can you hold me?” You sniffled as you got comfortable on the plush bedding. 

“What do you miss from before the walkers?” You ask as Shane obliges your request. 

“Cold beer.” Shane quickly retorts. “And hot wings.” He chortles, lightening the mood.  

“I don’t blame you.” You giggle. “I miss getting my nails done. And going shopping. Especially at Target.”

”Hmm, you women did love your Target! I miss going to the bar after work with my buddies. I miss eating cheeseburgers. And the internet. Shit, why did you have to go and start reminiscing like this!?” He said teasingly. 

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sorry! It feels like I haven’t had a minute to just think lately, you know?” You sigh as you bite down on your lip. You hesitate but before you could stop yourself it slips out: But seriously. Is there anything else? Were you married? Did you have a family?” You roll over to face him, worrying that you were pushing the envelope with him. Shane was known to be a little hot around the collar, so you wanted to be able to see his reactions. You didn’t want to push any buttons and shut him down. 

His body tenses and he takes a large breath before speaking. 

“I was raised by my grandma Jean and she passed well before the world went to Hell and truthfully, I’m glad she wasn’t here to experience this. I don’t have any siblings but I consider Rick to be my brother. He and I grew up together. Graduated high school, went off to college and then ended up joining the force together.”

”Wait, I knew you and Rick were deputies together. I didn’t know you’ve known each other your entire lives.” Your mouth dropping at his admission. 

“Yeah. We did. I have some of my best memories with Rick. In fact, I think football is what I miss most. Football, cold beer and hot wings. That’s my final answer. You know after all this.” He nods, gesturing to the room. 

“Playing or watching?”

”Both.” He replies quickly. 

“Your number didn’t happen to be ‘22’ did it?” You ask as you finger his necklace.  

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “That was my number.” 

“So…” You pause, wondering again if you were wandering into dangerous territory. Your heart started picking up and your mouth felt dry but you knew if you didn’t ask now the timing may never be right again.“You must have known Lori and Carl before all of this?” You cautiously ask. 

Shane stiffens slightly once more before responding. “Yeah, we all met in college.”

”Listen, I know we’ve never had any discussions about whatever this is.” You say, motioning between the two of you. “ And you don’t owe me any explanations but is there something going on between you and Lori?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even think to stop them. You cringe as you held your breath waiting for his response, tension growing in the air. You had always felt something between him and Lori, despite her being married to Rick but now you had been slowly catching feelings with Shane you just had to know the truth. 

”Look” Shane sharply interrupts you and the tone of his voice sends a cold shiver down your spine. “I’m only going to tell you this once. Before the outbreak, Rick and I were on a call. He got shot and ended up in a coma. He was still in that coma when we had to evacuate the city. I took Lori and Carl to safety. They are just as much my family as they are Rick’s. I’m always going to feel responsible for them.” He barked, passion radiated from his body even after he was done speaking. 

You relaxed into him, appreciating the honesty. Your reaction shocked Shane. He was bracing himself for a fight, instead he found you slotting your legs between his and resting your forehead against his chest. 

“I completely understand that Shane. If I had anyone left from before I would cherish them as well.” You appreciated his honesty and besides, the world that we once knew was gone. That’s going to have an impact on relationship dynamics. Regardless, you felt safe with him and that was worth sticking around for, so long as everyone remained truthful. It did, however, bring up one more question for you. 

Swallowing hard before asking, “Do you think you have room for one more person?” 

“Yeah I think I can manage that sweetheart.” He rolls on to his back and pulls you along with him so that you end up positioned on his chest. A fresh pool of tears formed in your eyes again. You are overwhelmed by his softness with you as you cuddle into him closer. He held you tightly as you cried yourself to sleep. 

__________________________

You woke up first the next day. The emotional hangover clung to you like a cold, wet blanket. Until you realized where you were and recalled last night’s admissions. You rolled over to see Shane sleeping on his back. He looked so peaceful. You couldn’t help but to admire his features in the low light. 

“Good morning, love.” 

You jumped. Not only were you unaware that he was awake but the new pet name was surprising. It awakened a yearning in your low belly. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. But good morning.” You meekly reply as you roll over on your side, facing away from him. Your embarrassment got the best of you. You were afraid last night was going to be too much for him.

“C’mon girl, where are you going?” He asked as he followed you, one of his arms snaked under your pillow and the other wrapped itself around you, pulling you closer into him. 

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” You replied, relishing in the warmth and security his body provided. 

“How are you feeling today?” He whispered in your ear, lips gently trailing down the side of your neck as you melted into him. 

“I’m feeling better. But did you mean what you said last night? Are we a thing?” You ask, hoping that a good night of rest didn’t change his mind. 

“I meant every word.” His reply was peppered with kisses on the back of your shoulder, igniting the embers that glowed in your low belly.  

“I did too.” You whispered as you started to lightly grind yourself against his bulge. 

“You better be careful about starting something you don’t intend to finish.” He growled as you continued your movements against him, desire growing with each provocation. 

“Who said I didn’t want to finish?” You murmured. 

Your words made Shane groan as he ran his free hand across your abdomen, resting it on your hip. 

“Shit sweetheart, what am I going to do with you?” His voice was dangerous as he caressed the side of your body. His breath hitches as he realizes you weren’t wearing any panties. 

You could feel him getting harder and the reaction your body gave him made you tremble as you rolled on your back to kiss him. 

Shane grunted as you spread your legs to accommodate him. You deepened the kiss and he brought your hands up to rest near the top of your head, interlacing your fingers with his. You relaxed into the bed, enjoying as Shane took the lead. 

He slowly but firmly thrust his hips against yours. The thin pair of pajama pants he was wearing left nothing to the imagination against your bare skin. 

You open your mouth to let out a soft moan and Shane takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours. The sensation left you light headed and wanting more. 

His kisses were hungry and frenzied, as if he wanted to devour you. Soon your blood was buzzing in your ears. Shane’s breathing was picking up and you couldn’t stop yourself anymore from grinding back into him. Shane groaned as he broke a kiss. Stilling his hips against yours he silently skimmed his hands down your forearms, lifting his palms so that only his fingertips danced down your biceps. In any other circumstance the sensation may have tickled you but right now the pathway tracked heat down your body causing your nipples to harden and your center to dampen. 

The hazy look in your eyes made Shane chuckle before he swiftly tore your night shirt right down the middle. 

“Shane!” You gasp before bringing your hands down and snatching his shirt over his head. You shamelessly took in the view before you. Shane was in glorious shape and you weren’t sure which of the Gods should be thanked for the opportunity to see this man. 

“Wait.” The last bit of reason that wasn’t tainted by Shane in your mind wandered to the front. 

Shane stops his hands, resting them on your hips as he sat back on his knees, eyes reading your body language.

”Please tell me you have a condom?” 

“Hang on, I think I do.” You adjusted yourself so that he could grab his bag. Reaching in he grabs the small box of condoms that were found hidden between the racks of the last pharmacy the group managed to search. 

“Shit.” He replies, turning the box upside down. “We’re out.” 

“Of course we are.” You whined, laying back on the bed, throwing your forearm over your face. “I want you so fucking bad.” You lie there pouting, trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness that was growing between your legs. 

“Listen.” Shane tosses the empty box onto the floor before laying down beside you. “We don’t have to have sex. Can I touch you?” He pauses his hand on your pubic bone waiting for an answer. 

Against better judgment, you nod your head and your body sings as Shane’s hand touches you where you so desperately needed him. 

“You’re already so fucking wet for me.” Shane admires you as he teases his fingers along your slit. 

“You feel so good.” You gasp as he slowly slips two fingers inside of you. Exhaling, you bring your hand to rest on his forearm, fearing he would stop his ministrations with your center. 

The sight of you beneath him, moaning in pleasure was stunning to Shane. He leaned down and gently scatters kisses around your chest until he popped a nipple into his mouth. 

You arched your hips at the pleasure from both his hands and his mouth. He immediately curled his fingers into your g spot. You deeply moaned at the sensation. Your noises caused him to release his assault on your nipple and he met you with a sinful stare. 

“Shane, fuck me.” Your emboldened request shocked even yourself. ”Just don’t cum in me. Please.” You whined as your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him up to you for a filthy kiss. 

“You sure that’s a good idea princess?”

”No. But I don’t want to stop. And we can’t make a habit out of this.” You cautioned as you quickly untied the string to his pajama pants, greedily pulling them down his hips as soon as you could. 

“As you wish, my love.” He sharply exhaled as you held his cock firmly in your hand. The use of his pet name caused your eyes to close. 

There it was again -love. The four letter word you hadn’t realized you had been secretly yearning to hear but struck nerves at the possibility. Your brain wanted to ask the hard questions but the ease at which the phrase rolled off his tongue pleased you. His deft hands were already making your loosely formed questions disappear. 

You open your eyes and remember the task at hand. The sight of his cock was mouth watering and you firmly grasp him and jerk him off. 

You watch as Shane’s eyes close and you thumb at the bead of precum that was forming at its head. His brows furrowed and you notice how tense the muscles in his abdomen are. His breath started to pant which encouraged you to work him harder. 

“You feel amazing love but can I please fuck you now?” Shane whines as he withdraws his fingers from you. 

Nodding you move to spread your legs for him.

”No, pretty girl. Not today. Roll over.” 

A wave of shock and excitement rolled through you as you turned over. In your previous hookups, you were usually on top and you had to be incredibly discreet. This change of pace was exciting. 

Shane roughly grabbed you by the hips, pulling you up and back so that you were doggystyle on your knees in the middle of the bed. 

Anticipation washed over you and before you could figure out what he was going to do next, Shane laid a hard smack on your ass. With an open palm, he ran his hand up your backside, electricity following in his wake. He stopped at the base of your neck, giving you a gentle squeeze before he entangled his fingers in your hair. Keeping his hand close to your scalp, he grabbed a handful and pulled. 

You cried out in pleasure as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Is this ok?” 

You felt the weight of him pressed against your cunt and it made it hard for you to answer him. You meekly nodded and he laughed against your ear. 

“Yeah, I thought you might like this.” His tone was almost sinister as he tapped your arm, unconsciously asking you for it. 

You shifted your body, moving your head to the side, so you could kneel with your chest on the bed. 

Shane grabs your wrists together in one hand while he teases your entrance with his cock. 

The anticipation of finally feeling his bare skin on yours is overwhelming and your breath is coming out in hitches. But he continues to tease you. Pressing himself slowly against your hole, tip just barely entering you before slowly pulling back. 

“What are you waiting for?” You cry out and Shane just chuckles. 

“You know, I really like to take my time but since you're impatient, I guess this is it.” He said before he filled you up. 

You cry out at the mind numbing pleasure he gives you. 

Shane didn’t waste time and started to harshly fuck you. The pleasure was intense but soon, so was the position. The bliss was starting to mingle with the discomfort in your shoulders. You started to feel crushing weight in your chest and your arms felt uncomfortable. 

Shane took notice of your changing breath and at how stiff your body had become. “Hey, hey, hey, hey what’s going on?” He said in a soothing tone as he let go of your arms and stopped his movements. “Are you ok? Do you need me to stop?” He asked as he helped brush strands of hair out of your face. 

“No, we don’t have to stop but I don’t want you to hold my arms back.” 

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s ok hun. It just started to feel too intense” The pet name effortlessly rolled off your tongue. He didn’t seem to object to it and the unquestioning acceptance lit the fire in your body back up. 

“Can we keep going?” You ask as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Absolutely.” Shane growls as he slaps you on the ass again, making you moan. He resumes his thrusting and you reach down to rub your clit. 

“Can you pull my hair again?” 

“I fucking love a woman who asks for what she wants.” He groans before he places one hand around your hip for support while the other pulls a handful of hair. 

“Omg, fuck that feels amazing.”

Shane keeps his pace as you feel yourself nearing the finish line. He pulls on your hair, making your back arch as you come up on your palms to conform to his request. 

“You’re doing so well for me.” 

All you can do is moan in response. 

Shane moved his free hand up your side body, over your shoulder trailing until his hand was loosely under your jaw, cradling your neck. 

He rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip and you popped it into your mouth, sucking on it like it was giving you life force. 

The heat at your coil was ready to boil over at any minute. Shane could feel you pulsing around him. 

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me fucking cum.” 

His admission pushed you over the edge. Shockwaves rippled through you, causing reality to splinter and before you could realize what was happening you felt Shane pull out of you. You can hear him grunting as you are riding out the final waves of your organs. Moments later, his hot cum lay across your ass and you both lower down into comfortable positions. 

You lie there in post coital bliss for several minutes. And then reality crashed down. 

“How loud were we? Do you think people heard us?” Mortification echoed through you at the thought. 

“Uh, well, I guess that would depend on how far away they were from us.” He teased as he rubbed your back. 

“Listen, we’re all adults here and it’s the end of the world. If anything, they were probably jealous. Hang on a minute, I’ll get you cleaned up.” 

Shane looked around, deciding to use the shirt he ripped off you earlier to wipe up his spend. 

“C’mon, let’s take another shower and go get something to eat.” 

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

“Mario has no personality” shut up he’s a Little Guy™ he’s a working class hero he Never Says No he genuinely unironically loves plumbing he’s a Short King he has the sweetest blue eyes and chubby lil cheeks you’ve ever seen he literally dreams about pasta he’s a quintessential underdog he’s a little too competitive sometimes he’s adorably chivalrous he lives life to the fullest he puts himself on the line to save his friends over and over not wanting anything return simply bc it’s the right thing to do and also kind of fun he wants to Save Brooklyn With Low Prices And Friendly Service he Doesn’t Know How To Quit he’s the world’s most affectionate tender protective big brother he is my CHILDHOOD HERO AND I WILL NOT SEE HIM DISRESPECTED ANY LONGER

[sassenach77yle]

"Go wi' God…mo duinne."

He stepped off the ledge and made his way down the steep incline, bracing his feet against tufts of grass, catching at branches to keep his balance, not looking back. I watched him until he disappeared into the oak clump, walking slowly, like a man wounded, who knows he must keep moving, but feels his life ebbing slowly away through the fingers he has clenched over the wound.My knees were trembling. Slowly, I lowered myself to the granite shelf and sat cross-legged, watching the swallows about their business. Below, I could just see the roof of the cottage that now held my past. At my back loomed the cleft stone. And my future.

I sat without moving through the afternoon. I tried to force all emotion from my mind and use reason. Jamie certainly had logic on his side when he argued that I should go back: home, safety, Frank; even the small amenities of life that I sorely missed from time to time, like hot baths and indoor plumbing, to say nothing of larger considerations such as proper medical care and convenient travel.And yet, while I would certainly admit the inconveniences and outright dangers of this place, I would have also to admit that I had enjoyed many aspects of it. If travel was inconvenient, there were no enormous stretches of concrete blanketing the countryside, nor any noisy, stinking autos—contrivances with their own dangers, I reminded myself. Life was much simpler, and so were the people. Not less intelligent, but much more direct—with a few sterling exceptions like Colum ban Campbell MacKenzie, I thought grimly.Because of Uncle Lamb's work, I had lived in a great many places, many even cruder and more lacking in amenities than this one. I adapted quite easily to rough conditions, and did not really miss "civilization" when away from it, though I adapted just as easily to the presence of niceties like electric cookers and hot-water geysers. Ishivered in the cold wind, hugging myself as I stared at the rock.Rationality did not appear to be helping much. I turned to emotion, and began, shrinking from the task, to reconstruct the details of my married lives—first with Frank, then with Jamie. The only result of this was to leave me shattered and weeping, the tears forming icy trails on my face.Well, if not reason nor emotion, what of duty? I had given Frank a wedding vow, and had meant it with all my heart. I had given Jamie the same, meaning to betray it as soon as possible. And which of them would I betray now? I continued to sit, as the sun sank lower in the sky and the swallows disappeared to their nests.As the evening star began to glow among the black pines' branches, I concluded that in this situation reason was of little use. I would have to rely on something else; just what, I wasn't sure. I turned toward the split rock and took a step, then another, and another. Pausing, I faced around and tried it in the other direction. A step, then another, and another, and before I even knew that I had decided, I was halfway down the slope, scrabbling wildly at grass clumps, slipping and falling through the patches of granite scree.

When I reached the cottage, breathless with fear lest he had left already, I was reassured to see Donas hobbled and grazing nearby. The horse raised his head and eyed me unpleasantly. Walking softly, I pushed the door open.He was in the front room, asleep on a narrow oak settle. He slept on his back, as he usually did, hands crossed on his stomach, mouth slightly open. The last rays of daylight from the window behind me limned his face like a metal mask; the silver tracks of dried tears glinted on golden skin, and the copper stubble of his beard gleamed dully.I stood watching him for a moment, filled with an unutterable tenderness. Moving as quietly as I could, I lay down beside him on the narrow settle and nestled close. He turned to me in sleep as he so often did, gathering me spoon-fashion against his chest and resting his cheek against my hair. Half-conscious, he reached to smooth my hair away from his nose; I felt the sudden jerk as he came awake to realize that I was there, and then weoverbalanced and crashed together onto the floor, Jamie on top of me.I didn't have the slightest doubt that he was solid flesh. I pushed a knee into his abdomen, grunting."Get off! I can't breathe!"Instead, he aggravated my breathless condition by kissing me thoroughly. I ignored the lack of oxygen temporarily in order to concentrate on more important things..We held each other for a long time without speaking. At last he murmured "Why?"—his mouth muffled in my hair.I kissed his cheek, damp and salty. I could feel his heart beating against my ribs, and wanted nothing more than to stay there forever, not moving, not making love, just breathing the same air."I had to," I said. I laughed, a little shakily. "You don't know how close it was. The hot baths nearly won." And I wept then, and shook a little, because the choice was so freshly made, and because my joy for the man I held in my arms was mingled with a tearing grief for the man I would never see again.Jamie held me tightly, pressing me down with his weight, as though to protect me, to save me from being swept away by the roaring pull of the stone circle. At length my tears were spent, and I lay exhausted, head against his comforting chest.

It had grown altogether dark by this time, but still he held me, murmuring softly as though I were a child afraid of the night. We clung to each other, unwilling to let go even long enough to start a fire or light a candle.At length Jamie rose, and picking me up, carried me to the settle, where he sat with me cradled on his lap. The door of the cottage still hung open, and we could see the stars beginning to burn over the valley below.

"Do you know," I said drowsily, "that it takes thousands and thousands of years for the light of those stars to reach us? In fact, some of the stars we see may be dead by now, but we won't know it, because we still see the light.""Is that so?" he answered, stroking my back. "I didna know that."I must have fallen asleep, head on his shoulder, but roused briefly when he laid me gently on the floor, on a makeshift bed of blankets from the horse's saddleroll. He lay down beside me, and drew me close again.

"Lay your head, lass," he whispered. "In the morning, I'll take ye home."

[innocentlymacabre]

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Micro Monday Edition 6 was sent out Monday morning! Sign up now to get priority access to more of my writing.

Alastor McGumbo had a name almost as ridiculous as he looked, not that anyone would ever dare tell him so. He took a long drag of his cigarette and turned to his top hat-wearing client, an accessory he believed to be universally nonsensical. The job had been beyond insane to begin with, but it had only gotten steadily worse since work began; the chocolate river running across the entire compound had been the least of his worries.

“Look, you can make the ground edible, but to keep it cured and set you’re going to need to keep this room chilled. And for a room this size, that’s going to a few thousand right there – and no, you cannot pay me in chocolate. The answer to that question will never be yes, so stop asking.”

William’s face fell. “No matter, my good man,” he said, recovering with a literal pep in his step. “You will be paid in full. With legal tender from this here country!”

Alastor’s response was to grunt. He barked an incomprehensible order at one of his people, but the boy scurried off anyway, apparently having understood him perfectly.

William leaned over Alastor. Standing almost a whole foot taller than him, he was able to do so very literally. Everything was literal with William, as Alastor learned only too late. When William said he wanted pneumatic tubes big enough to fit an elephant, Alastor had just laughed – until the job began and he had to figure out a way to do just that.

“Anything else?” William asked in a voice laced with artificial sweetener. Although he apparently wouldn’t dream of putting the stuff in his chocolate.

Alastor straightened up and pushed past him. There was lots else. “With all the extra pipes you’ve got running through the place – the chocolate, the transport, what have you – in the confusion, it seems regular old plumbing has been neglected in Room 2. We’re going to have to rip up the flooring and lay that down. We’re looking at about a month’s delay there – and that’s if I can get Romey to wrangle a couple extra hands for the job. I told you adding all of those pipes would only lead to disaster, and here we are. But no matter, it doesn’t matter who was right – I was – and who insisted on eccentricity.

But, blessing in disguise, because the “cooking marble” you insisted upon for the room’s walls so that you could “roll and dole” – was it? – has come in but there are cracks in the shipment. I warned you that would happen, if you remember, so you can’t hold me liable. Ordering something that delicate from that far away, no way it was going to arrive undamaged. I can fix it, but it will no longer be sanitary enough to bake on. Even if you manage to get the health department to sign off on the rest of this lawsuit waiting to happen, no way will they go in for that.”

William seemed unbothered by the issues. “Oh, no matter. Pipe a little frosting into the cracks and throw it into a kiln. That’ll fix it right up without invoking the ire of the health department.”

“Uh huh,” Alastor replied uncertainly. “Okay, well, moving on. Those trees you wanted? Candy cane and gummy worms for vines?” Alastor internally groaned at the words coming out of his mouth. “They need two different soil types if you want them to continue to grow and putting them next to each other would mean erecting an impermeable barrier between the two, which in turn means an extended timeline and extra cost for the barrier. I would say move one of them to another room. Keep things simple.”

“Oh no, that simply won’t do,” William said firmly. He had been fiddling around with something in his hands the entire conversation but this seemed to demand his full and present attention. “Those trees need to stay together. Pulling from all sources of cacaotastic fauna is an unmovable requirement of what that room represents.”

Alastor let out a heavy sigh. He was losing his patience with this man. “William -”

“- my name is Willy. Willy Wonka. You’ll do well to use it.”

“I am not calling you that.”

“You are aware that all of these extras mean extra manhours, yes?” Alastor pushed on. “Come payment time, I don’t want you dragging your feet and whinging over all the charges.”

“Yes, by my estimations we’re already a hundred and twenty percent over the budget I gave you. How’s that? Am I right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I already said you’d be paid in full, so I really don’t see what you’re standing here for. And no, not in chocolate, although I still think you should at least consider it.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a squat square wrapped in yellow, a golden W stamped across it.

“I don’t want your candy, Willy,” Alastor pushed out slowly, forcing a tenuous smile across his face. Willy didn’t bring up the fact that Alastor had already pocketed the chocolate for himself. “I just want to make sure my people are paid.”

“It’s chocolate, not candy, but fret not! You just handle the construction and I’ll handle the little stacks of paper."

“I’ll send you an invoice...” And with those inspiring words, Alastor walked off, readying himself to deal with whatever new thing was due to go exasperatingly wrong.

↝✧↝

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[bluebird722]

After a Long Day

Summary: After a long day of working, a little private and family time are all Jean needs.

Rating: T for nudity

Pairing: Jeankasa

Author's Note: So...I noted in "Beyond the Tree on That Hill" that I was not entirely pro-Jeankasa but liked to read fanfiction and look at fanart. Well...now it's become my OTP, especially factoring in his character development throughout the series! I definitely have more drabbles coming, but this one took only an hour to write.

At last, the day was over. No more paperwork, or catching up on current events. No more writing letters to schedule appointments with overseas officials, or reading up on politics. No more reflecting on past pilgrimages, or reading up on notes from his fellow ambassadors from their previous posts, for future meetings. It was time to call it a day. 

After a nice, hot dinner with his family, Jean eagerly hurried to the bathroom blessed with indoor plumbing, turned on the phonograph, took off his clothes, and dipped himself into a hot bath. Leaning his head back over the edge of the tub, draping his arms over the smooth sides, and parting his legs helped him release the stress from his body. For some reason, he felt like he could breathe easier as though the hot water was like a sponge absorbing all the tension. He kept his eyes closed for two minutes, slid his head into the water, and pushed himself up to wipe his face. 

He swung his legs side to side, alternating between hitting his knees or moving them together. Making himself relax was itself stressful, but the music really helped. He didn’t know the music or composer, just that the genre was called jazz, but he didn’t really care to know the details. It was just something he knew about because Nicolo had the music player at his restaurant and played jazz for private dinner parties. Jean ignored the chill over his wet skin and watched his bent legs move along to the music. 

Knock, knock.

“Jean?”

Only two people would be forgiven for interrupting his private time. He smiled without looking up. “Yes?”

“May I come in?”

Jean pulled apart his legs again and struggled to not smile. “Yes, you may.”

Mikasa–his darling Mikasa, his beautiful wife of three years–walked into the bathroom and hurried to the sink. “How are you feeling? Better?”

“Much,” he sighed. He hung his head back again. “Care to join me?”

Mikasa huffed, though he barely heard it over the running sinkwater. “Maybe later.” After she dried her hands, she walked to the back of the tub and, to Jean’s surprise but overall delight, knelt behind him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Jean moved his head to touch her shoulder and breathed in her sweet scent. “Better?”

“Much more,” Jean sighed. Her touch was like magic in healing him. She didn’t care that his wet hair was making her clothing wet. One hand drifted over his bare chest and stroked both sides of his collarbone. “I could stay like this forever.”

Mikasa kissed his cheek. “So could I.” She grabbed the shampoo bar and ran the square over his head. Jean tilted his head so she could lather the shampoo throughout every inch of his hair, including his nape and behind his ears. Jean remembered when they were first married, how they used to take baths together and wash each other’s hair out of the love they had for each other. 

Now, he had an even greater reason to love her.

Mikasa took her time with his crown and temples, her fingers massaging his scalp and quick to prevent anything going into his ear. Jean stared at the phonograph playing music and closed his eyes with a smile. He needed to close every day, good and bad, like this. His wife moved her hand, tickled his throat, and snaked down his chest, ribcage, and abdomen to finger the small hairs under his abdomen. 

Jean chuckled and slightly shivered at her gentle, ticklish touch. “That felt nice,” he said seductively. He received a kiss on the cheek and more tender strokes over the hairs around his more intimate region. Reluctantly, he pinched his nose and slid his head underwater one more time, where she helped him rinse the suds from his locks. 

When Jean sat back up, Mikasa patted his hair dry and folded her hands over his heart. “Are you truly happy with your life, Jean?” she asked. “I know today was a stressful day for you.”

“I am,” he said, “but yes, I was ready to be done.” Jean lowered himself into the bath water and stared ahead. “It’s not that all this research is burning me out, but…” He closed his eyes. “I had no idea it would be so hard thinking of compromises when you’re meeting with two countries at war with each other. It seems like every time you come up with a good idea, it could jeopardize even part of the other country’s economy somehow, or it violates their law in another way.” 

Mikasa pouted, something she rarely did unless she, too, could understand the challenge of avoiding catch-22s in peace negotiations. “I don’t know how to help, though,” she said.

“You are now,” he whispered, “by being here…but it would be nicer…if you took off your clothes and came in and let me love you up–”

She interrupted him with a kiss beside his eye but was giggling. She smoothed her hands down his arms to lace her fingers between his. He folded his arms so both pairs of hands were crossed over his chest and turned his head. She kissed him, first gently and then with more intensity. 

Jean kissed back just as hard. He could never tire of kissing her. He kissed her even when she was sick. Every kiss was a promise that more would follow, in good and bad times. He freed his right hand from hers so he could cup her face and deepen the kiss. With her left, she pulled his face to hers, sucking on his lips like they were a juicy fruit. Jean wondered if she suspected how hard he was becoming and that a familiar tugging was growing between his legs. 

A loud wail broke apart the couple and shifted them into parent mode. “She’s hungry,” said Mikasa. “I can tell.”

Jean chuckled. “Nine months in you, and you can tell when she’s too warm, too cold, or too tired. Heck, I still can’t believe you can be in a different room from her and know when she needs changing.”

Mikasa, chuckling, reluctantly stood up and left the bathroom. Jean had one minute to himself and the music, and then she returned with her blouse untucked and her baby girl at her breast. No matter what mood he was in, Jean never felt anything other than pure delight to see the one person he loved more than anything else in the world. 

Mikasa hummed to baby Sasha for five minutes until she stopped eating, and propped her onto her shoulder to pat her back. Jean smiled watching Sasha turn her head and flex her fingers until she let out a soft belch. “Want to say hi to Papa?” Mikasa whispered. Immediately, Sasha lifted her head, and when she saw Papa, she held out her arms to the man in the bathtub. 

Jean happily took her after Mikasa stripped off the baby’s clothes and diaper, and held her up so that her feet touched his chest. “Yes, baby,” he cooed, “even Papa needs bathtime, but not as often as you, because you soil and spit over your clothes every day.”

Sasha, who was already showing signs of her first teeth coming in, still stuck out her tongue between her gums in a smile, like she knew what he was saying. Jean lowered Sasha into the water up to her navel, and then back on her feet onto his chest. He kissed her cheeks and whispered how much he loved her that he didn’t even pay attention to his wife until he heard a splash. She had already disrobed and seated across from him in the tub, her bent legs together. Jean’s smile widen. “At last, you decided to come in.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes, blushing. “She did spit milk over my blouse, so I might as well.” She hugged her legs and watched Jean plant kisses to Sasha’s tiny stomach, the inside of her forearm, and the back of her hand. Watching a father give love to his child warmed Mikasa every time, but seeing the way Jean fussed over and dote on their little girl, their Sasha, made her want to cry in delight.

Normally, Sasha hated bathtime, but she happily splashed her hands into the surface and kicked water to her father’s shoulders. Jean noisily kissed her cheeks to increase her laughter and pulled her up and down into the bath. “We haven’t even had a whole year with you, Sasha,” he said, “but I think I know now the best way to make sure you don’t whine when it’s bathtime. Of course, your mama and I will find out how to make it easier when you’re a little older and more bratty, but we will still love you with all our hearts, and more than anything else in the world.”

Sasha giggled, but then her smile fell. Her eyes crinkled like she was ready to cry.

“She’s hungry again,” Mikasa easily detected. She reached for their baby and sat up to easily guide Sasha’s mouth without dipping her ear under the water. Every time Jean watched his wife nurse their daughter, he noticed that she herself made a face like she was on the verge of tears, like it was the most beautiful way to bond a mother and baby.

“Stay right there,” said Jean. “I’ll be right back.”

Mikasa watched him stand up from the tub (and always admired how fit and toned his naked body was), dry himself, wrap the towel around his waist, and leave the bathroom. He came back with his sketchbook and charcoal. 

“Aren’t you–”

“It shouldn’t get wet,” he reassured her. “I’ll put it away when she starts kicking.” Jean quickly opened to a blank page and stole every detail he could, from the reflection of his wife’s knees in the water, to the curl of Sasha’s fingers, how Sasha’s cowlicks hid her face except the roundness of her cheek, and the adoration on Mikasa’s face when she studied her daughter.

Sasha finished before Jean was completely done, but he finished what he knew from memory as Mikasa patted her back. This time, after Sasha belched (and drooled out a little milk), she nuzzled her face into her mother’s neck and closed her eyes. Jean had enough space on his page to bring to life what he saw but did not want to commemorate with a camera. 

Mikasa waited for Jean to finish to reluctantly stand up, dry herself one handedly with a towel, let her husband tuck it around her hips, and carry the baby back to her nursery. Jean used this opportunity to drain the lukewarm water and pour in clean water, with a scrubbing of soap for bubbles. When Mikasa came back, she discarded the towel and sat across from him again. 

It seemed so long ago, Jean reflected, when he was first attracted to her with all of that long, beautiful black hair and was devastated when she agreed to cut it off. Now, her hair was longer, and he was even more in love with her now. She never tired of hearing him say, “Having Sasha made me fall even more in love with you. I didn’t know how much I could love you more than romantically until I watched you go through labor and give birth.” Of course, Jean had no idea how much he could love or give love until the very moment that Sasha was born. He could only attribute that to the warrior woman across from him, tired from breastfeeding but happy to resume time alone with her husband. 

Jean kissed her knee and stroked the cap under it. “I’m always telling you how much I love you, how you and Sasha are the most important things in the world and in my life.” 

“Yes.” When she reached forward to stroke his wet hair farther from his forehead, he kissed her skin.

“Well, you have no idea how important you two are to me, how you both make me feel after long, stressful days like today.” He kissed her knee again and decided to peck down her shin later that night in the comfort and protection of their bedsheets. “At the end of the day, I remember why I’m doing this and not letting your embroidery become our sole source of income–so that you and I can watch Sasha grow up healthy and happy, no threat to her life or future, and maybe give her little brothers and sisters, in a peaceful island.”

Jean leaned over Mikasa’s knees, put his hands on either side of her, and kissed her. “Then you and I can continue to live in peace, and we can grow old and pass the same, after a long, good life after everything.”

He noticed that her small smile grew wider. “That’s a future that I want to work for as well,” she agreed. “I would be happy to spend the rest of my life and my bed with you.” She put her hands on either side of his face to kiss him deeper; he gently put his hands on her arms. Jean didn’t know if they were going to make love later, either right there in the tub or within their sheets, but he did not want the night to end.

[pianokantzart]

If You Can’t Stand The Heat

One-shot fic. Don’t know if it qualifies as fluff/angst or hurt/comfort, but ptsd is definitely happening.

Mario and Luigi settle into a new home in The Mushroom Kingdom shortly after their victory over Bowser. Both try their best to embrace the new normal, but both have their own struggles wrapping their heads around everything they just survived.

Now posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46686196

______________________________________

Luigi never had a kitchen to himself before. The moment he and his brother declared themselves homeowners, his entire family, near and far, pitched in to make sure they had everything they needed. The kitchen especially was stocked with all their hearts desired, as everyone in the family had a spare something: cutlery, spatulas, measuring spoons, cutting boards, cheese graters, rolling pins, crock pots, meat tenderizers, bread machines, pitchers, pots, pans, knives, blenders, choppers, slicers, mixers, grinders, peelers, juicers, shakers… Mario tried to explain that they could stock their own kitchen– the plumbing business was going great, they had money now, but nobody listened. In their own loud, pushy, overbearing way, they only wanted to make sure he and his brother were taken care of. They were family, after all.

While Luigi had always pitched in to help cook for big events and celebrations back in Brooklyn, the kitchen was his mother’s domain, kept pristine, efficient, and orderly. She was an unstoppable machine that churned out three multi-course meals a day, all made from scratch. She worked hard, poured her whole heart into every detail, and always made sure everyone was fed and taken care of. Luigi was often told– sometimes condescendingly– he took after his mother, but to him this was no insult. Quite the opposite. At last he had a kitchen of his own, and though he was cooking for a household of two rather than nine it felt like no less of a responsibility, especially given the way Mario had been for the past few days. To anyone who hadn’t lived with Mario his entire life, he seemed fine. Better than fine. He behaved like his usual self, head raised high and a spring in his step, ready to take on the world. Nobody else knew how little sleep he was getting, sitting up in bed while looking back and forth between his brother and the window like a newly-hired guard dog, waiting for the worst. Nobody else saw how his whole body shifted into a fighting stance at the slightest hint of trouble, the worry in his eyes every time Luigi stepped away for longer than a minute.

For as long as Luigi could remember, Mario treated his own life with reckless abandon while treating Luigi’s like it was more valuable than the world itself. It was only two weeks ago that they nearly lost each other, and then found each other, and then saved each other by the skin of their teeth. Luigi, feeling a little guilty, was dead set on seeing to it that all was made right again. He was happy to stick close to his brother for as long as needed, stay up talking for long hours into the night, and manage the plumbing business whenever Mario finally felt calm enough to fall asleep (no matter what time of day it was). But more than anything he kept their new house clean and organized, intent on ensuring every square inch of it truly felt like home– a safe haven where nothing could hurt them. 

Of course, their first home-cooked meal would be a major milestone, and what better way to launch their kitchen than with an old-fashioned Italian pizza? Luigi layered the sauce and the mozzarella on the freshly stretched dough while the oven preheated, singing “Che La Luna” to himself while Mario sat in the living room, trying to beat the first boss of Kid Icarus.

“You sure you don’t want any help, Luigi?” “I said I’ve got this!” Luigi called back, pausing his singing as he added fresh basil leaves and a sprinkle of salt. “I’m almost done. Dinner in five!”

Luigi plucked up the pizza peel by handle and headed toward the oven, pleased with his handiwork. He picked the tune back where he left off, taking a moment to twirl proudly in his apron as he crossed the kitchen floor. “C' 'na luna mezz'u mare Mamma mia m'a maritare!…” He carefully held his creation in his right hand as he leaned down and opened the oven door. “Figlia mia a cu te dare Mamma mia pensace-”

The blast of heat hit him. Luigi suddenly stopped singing. He had been so lost in his own thoughts… he didn’t even expect the oven to feel like this, five hundred degrees fahrenheit slamming against his cheeks like a heavy blow. Blindsided by the sensation, an uncontrollable tremor slowly overtook him, the pizza he had so carefully prepared falling out of his hands, clattering to the tile floor.

“Lu! You okay?” Luigi didn’t hear Mario’s voice. The comforting presence one room over disappeared under an ocean of fear that crashed down upon him, suffocating him. The cozy kitchen, the golden light of evening streaming through the open window, and the smell of yeast and flour evaporated under ash and sulfur, boiling magma lapping at his feet and red-hot iron bending beneath his hands. His heart pounded so hard he felt like it was about to burst, blood rushing to his head and turning his mind inside out while it desperately attempted to grasp reality… This wasn’t real! It was over! He was safe! He was home! He… Heat. He was trapped. He was burning. Luigi leapt back from the oven, hitting himself against the island table as he fell. Hard stone, sharp claws, bony hands, crushing scales, falling debris. Heat. Oppressive, inescapable as death.

“Mario!” Luigi screamed his brother’s name on instinct, unaware he was already in the doorway, rushing to his side.

“Luigi! what’s wrong?” Mario took hold of his brother. Luigi tried to wriggle out of his grasp as though his life depended on it. He shook violently, pressing his hands tightly to his face as he screamed again, voice cracking with terror and desperation. 

“Mario!”

“I’m here Lu! I’ve got you!” With some effort, Mario managed to force Luigi’s hands away from his face. He held Luigi’s cheeks and looked into his eyes– they were wide, tearful, looking past everything toward some undisclosed horror in the middle distance. At last they shifted, returning to the present world, settling upon the face in front of him. He shivered terribly, his breathing shallow, his brow soaked in sweat as recognition finally dawned on him. “… Mario?”

“I’ve got you.” Mario pulled Luigi close, pressing their foreheads together as they sat on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a mess of trampled dough and scattered flour. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” Mario repeated softly, “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

________________

That night, they had ice cream for dinner. Mario stood in the living room in front of the coffee-table-turned-dessert-bar, and split a tub of butterscotch-caramel between two dishes, topping them with mounds of whipped cream, sprinkles, and cherries. Luigi sat on the nearby couch, wrapped in a quilt, watching his brother divvy out the icecream from a carton that still had the smudged remnants of “Mario’s! Do not touch!” written on the side in sharpie, hastily scratched out at the last minute. 

“You want pecans too?” Mario asked, already popping open the tin. Luigi nodded, tightening the blanket a little further around his shoulders. His hands still shivered as he took the bowl from his brother. He was quiet for a moment, taking a few bites of the ice cream, fighting down another wave of tears that tried to bubble to the surface even now that the worst of the attack had left him. He was miserable. Exhausted. Defeated. “I feel so stupid.”

“You shouldn’t.” Mario sat on the couch, shoulder-to-shoulder against his brother while holding his sundae in his lap. “This is normal, I think. I mean... you went through a lot.”

“You didn’t fall apart like this.” Luigi whined, “You went through a lot too.” “What I went through is different.” Mario retorted, stirring his sundae into a brown, chocolatey slurry with his spoon, “I wasn’t alone like you were. Even from the first moment I landed in The Mushroom Kingdom I had Toad watching my back. You didn’t have anyone.”

Luigi didn’t say anything, he just looked at his older brother. Mario was right, but he didn’t like how guilty he looked while saying it. It wasn’t his fault that they got ripped in separate directions, it wasn’t his fault they ended up where they ended up. He did everything he could. He did amazing, all considering. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mario asked, breaking the silence between them. “You know… what happened to you while we were apart?”

Luigi took a bite of his ice cream to buy himself time to consider his response. The answer was no, of course, even though Luigi knew talking about it would be good for him. He dreaded the thought of putting his experience into words. Even in the daylight hours, when all was well and the world was as it should be, merely thinking about The Dark Lands made his chest hurt and his hair stand on end. “Can I talk about it tomorrow?” “You can talk about it whenever you like,” Mario assured. He reached his free hand over to Luigi’s shoulder and tugged him into a playful side hug. “You’ve been here for me Lu, but don’t forget I’m here for you too! and I’m gonna keep being here, every step of the way. That’s a promise.”

Luigi smiled. Tears welled up in his eyes, far from the fearful tears that had plagued him moments before. “Mario…” Luigi set his ice cream down on the coffee table in front of him, rubbed his tears away on the palm of his hand, and plucked his little-big brother up into a bear hug. Mario barely had enough time to put his own ice cream down safely before being yanked into the embrace. “…We’re a mess.” Luigi chuckled, sounding happy at last. The shivering was almost gone, his breathing was steady, and his heartbeat was almost normal. Mario noted each of these things while he was pressed against his brother, and couldn’t help but smile as well. He’d be okay. Whether Luigi knew it or not, he was strong as either of them. It would take a bit of time, but they were going to be okay.

“Yeah.” Mario laughed, resting his chin against his brother’s shoulder, “we sure are.”

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Crashing Like A Tidal Wave

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears

Rating: R

Spoilers: Takes place in an AU for the first season, where Ari approached Nikita to work with him in the pilot episode. 

Summary: Being stranded together causes Ari and Nikita’s relationship to shift in a tender direction.

Author's note: I *thrive* on romantic solace. Ari deserves the world and Nikita no matter what canon happens to declare. I will fix it piece-by-piece if that's what it takes to rectify the mistakes I felt were made.

On AO3

If it’s coming over you 

Like it’s coming over me

Crashing like a tidal wave 

That drags me out to sea.

Stranded, Plumb

Crashing Like a Tidal Wave

It was far from an ideal situation. Being stuck out in the middle of nowhere in the midst of a winter storm was anxiety-inducing as it was. Experiencing that while in the company of an enemy turned ally whom she had romantic feelings for was, in short, complicated. 

         Nikita Mears sighed tiredly, emerging from the tiny bathroom located at the back of the cabin that Ari Tasarov had brought them to in order to have shelter from the rain and snow. 

The former operative was grateful that her companion had known of a place to stay. The main problem was that it was on the small side. 

Ari had already insisted on taking the couch in the living room, which was roughly five steps away from the bedroom itself. There wasn’t a door or even a partition to separate the two areas, so she had changed quickly into the pajamas stuffed into her overnight bag in the bathroom instead. There was no shower – merely an antique-looking metal tub right next to the toilet and sink. 

That’s going to take some adjusting to, she thought wryly, before slipping a sweater on over her sleep tee and then moving into the living room to see if Ari had settled. 

She saw that he had made up the pull-out bed – which frankly seemed larger than the twin she would be occupying – and was standing by a window in the adjoining dining room.

Like her, the Gogol agent had changed into sleep wear: in his case a long-sleeved Henley and flannel pajama pants. The dark colors suited his tall, lean frame, but his handsome features were locked in an expression that she couldn’t fully read. In fact, there was a subtle tension to his posture that alarmed her. 

“Ari?” she padded forward, calling his name softly so as not to startle him too much. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he murmured, his clear blue gaze fixated on the dark clouds in the horizon. “Just trying to gauge how close this next storm is.”

“You do realize that I can tell when you’re keeping something from me, right?” she stopped only inches away from him, and then tentatively reached out to touch his left shoulder. 

It was momentary, but he flinched, which prompted her to pull back her hand quickly. 

A flash of lightning lit up the sky outside the window, and that was when she noticed that he was paler than usual. 

She whispered his name again and didn’t hesitate to curl her fingers around his arm comfortingly. 

They stood there for another moment until Ari finally turned to face her, an apologetic expression on his striking face. “It must seem silly to you – a grown man being apprehensive of a little thunder and lightning.”

She shook her head, instinct driving her to curl her arms around his waist. “No, we all have things that frighten us.”

His perceptive eyes caught her own, burgeoning affection surfacing in the cobalt depths. “I find it difficult to imagine that you would be afraid of anything.”

She tilted her head back, a smirk crossing her lips. “Clowns. Can’t stand them.”

His own mouth quirked, and he was unable to completely hold back a laugh. “Don’t tease me.”

“I can’t help it, I like to,” she mumbled, toying with the top button on his shirt till it popped open and she was offered a better glimpse of the chest that lay beneath. 

Unable to resist, she stroked over the triangle of flesh now revealed, their eyes once again locking as the intimacy of the situation began to dawn on them both. 

Ari’s hands came up to frame her face tenderly, her name emerging as a reverent whisper while he leaned forward and started to bridge what little space was between them. 

Nikita’s lips parted in anticipation. They had spent the better part of a year together, slowly building a trust, and now it seemed as though, finally, they were on the same wavelength. 

Thunder abruptly boomed outside, scaring her companion enough that he took a step back, a growl of frustration ripping from his throat. “Damn this weather!”

Undeterred, Nikita surged forward, gripping at the soft fabric covering his chest and tugging him back into the safety of her embrace. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

He inhaled shakily, touching their foreheads together. “Nikita: distract me. I don’t care how.”

“I might have a few ideas,” she coaxed at his mouth with her own, sliding her hands up under his shirt and massaging lightly at the tone of his abdomen. 

Ari curled into her touch, the pair colliding in a long-awaited kiss that caused the world outside to no longer matter.

They embraced with a steadily growing passion, months’ worth of pent-up longing bubbling to the surface with each nip and tease at each other’s lips. 

She began to pull him away from the window and steered him towards the bed situated in the center of the room, yanking insistently at his top. 

He parted from her long enough for the garment to be peeled up over his head, and then dived back in for another kiss, shoving her cardigan down her shoulders in retaliation. 

Hastily, she freed herself from the sleeves and flung the sweater away blindly, the pair toppling back onto the covers, legs entangling as they gradually became consumed with one another. 

Her tee was the next article to be removed, goosebumps erupting the second their bare skin finally touched, causing delicious friction.

There was a flurry of movement as remaining barriers were cast aside, and then they sunk further into the nest of blankets, embracing languidly. 

The storm continued to rage on, wind beating at the glass windowpanes, but it appeared to be the furthest thing on Ari’s mind now that he was so pleasantly occupied. 

Nikita surfaced for air when her lover’s mouth eventually strayed and gained purchase on her throat, his tongue laving purposely over the hollow before drifting down to explore further.

She gasped as his ministrations grew more heated and threaded her fingers into his dark hair, upsetting it from the neat style that he usually kept it in. 

She felt him smirk when his lips grazed the underside of her breast. He was being so deliberate in his actions that she idly wondered if he had planned this all along. 

As if in answer, his thumb stroked over a particularly sensitive area. 

Her hips bucked instinctively, molten heat gathering at her core thanks to his actions, unable to suppress a pleased moan. “Who’s distracting whom now?”

Attractive features suddenly loomed into her vision, desire mixed with gratitude evident in a sea of blue and gray. “Just trust that it’s working.”

“Good,” she wasted little time in drawing him back to her, eagerly seeking another kiss while arcing her body towards his invitingly. 

He needed no further persuasion, joining them with a decisive, fluid thrust. 

She cried out against his mouth, reveling in the sensations that being one caused, hooking her legs around his waist to anchor them together as he started them off with a surprisingly gentle motion. 

They carried on that way for some time, exchanging unhurried kisses while they built a steady rhythm. 

She was in awe of how perfectly he happened to fit with her, grasping at his back to ensure that every inch of them that was touching remained so, committing the image of him at that moment to memory. 

In their time working together, she had witnessed plenty of situations that required an intense focus on his part, but being the subject of that concentration was far different from mere observation. 

Ari’s movements were precise and almost delicate, as if he were specifically attuned to her pleasure alone. And yet – it was also clear that their lovemaking was the balm that he needed to drown out whatever trigger the storm had caused him earlier. 

His stunning gaze never left hers, even when he dipped his head for a loving nuzzle, his hands moving just a fraction up her back in order to cradle her against him. 

Nikita circled her arms around his neck, nudging her nose to his and spurring him further with encouraging murmurs. 

Their motions began to lose their elegance, giving way to wild need as they reached their pinnacle, and even then – he somehow managed to slow down so they could savor the singular moment when they fell. 

                  Basking together in the afterglow was just as wonderful, allowing the couple to revel in their closeness. 

                  Nikita wondered if there would ever be any place that felt as peaceful as being in Ari’s arms, her head pillowed on his chest, stroking idle patterns with practiced fingers along his torso. She could hear his heart – an untamed dance that had yet to fully calm – and sighed contentedly before dropping a kiss right against his clavicle. 

                  The hand that wasn’t resting on her hip moved up to slide rhythmically over her arm. “This is nice.”

                  “Mmm,” she pressed light, feathery kisses to his neck. “It is. In fact, we should insist upon it as stress relief after every mission.”

                  He chuckled, quiet and alluring and making her fall that much more in love with him. “There’ll be no argument from me.”

                  She peered up at him, dragging her nails briefly through the hair dusting his chest before twisting so she was halfway on top of him. “There is one thing that’s got me curious though. I just thought that maybe you didn’t want to talk about it.”

                  “Well now you have to ask,” he arched an eyebrow and draped his arms across her waist. “And I’ll give you as honest an answer as I can.”

                  She smiled and tousled his hair further. “Why don’t you like storms?”

                  He exhaled slowly, his hold on her tightening ever-so-slightly. “Sibling rivalry.”

                  “What?”

                  “My older brothers,” he elaborated. “They loved to torment me, to the point that they made it a competition. We often spent the winter at an old estate in the country. There was a storage shed in the garden that terrified me because of the stories my mother used to weave for us. You’ve heard of Baba Yaga?”

                  “The folk tale or the crime lord?”

                  He laughed richly, grateful that she had lightened the mood. “The folk tale. When you’re six years old and have a vivid imagination: any old, rickety building could feasibly sprout chicken legs in your head. Eric found my literal fear of a fairy tale hilarious for some reason, so he and Alexei decided to play a trick. They locked me in that shed during a stormy night. The groundskeeper found me the next morning.”

                  Her breath hitched, pity surging through her. “That’s horrible.”

                  “Our mother was furious. I think father was off traveling at the time,” Ari caressed over Nikita’s cheek. “And ever since, when there’s thunder and lightning, I’m on edge. Old memories of that night resurface. I can function well-enough but as you’re aware, distractions help.”

                  “I’m happy to be what takes your mind off of that,” she stretched against him and stole an ardent kiss that he gladly returned. 

                  With a swift movement, he turned and bore her back beneath him, their embrace deepening significantly as they lost themselves yet again. 

                  He pulled away first, fingers twining into her hair, and uttered the words that would change everything. “I love you, Nikita.” 

                  Her heart fluttered in delight, and she didn’t hesitate in replying: “I love you too, Ari.”

                  And as they shared another long, passionate kiss, it was obvious that they meant it. 

The End

[femslashfictournament]

Femslash fic tournament: Round 1.2

Fast Cars and Slow Jazz Ship: Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli Fandom: Agent Carter Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/206534 Summary: Angie’s got suspicions on what Peggy does for a living and she’s determined to protect her at all costs…to other people. It’s not like she’s crazy and about to risk her life for a dame that’s more hot and cold than the plumbing on the third floor of the Griffith Hotel.

Starts as a relatively light fic that's a quick read and evolves into a whole universe with worldbuilding around multiple other MCU characters. Peggy's family! Natasha's backstory! 10/10 recommend for anyone who thought what happened with Agent Carter was a huge missed opportunity.

The World Falls Away For You Ship: Mai/Ty Lee Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37488319/ Summary: From the minute she was born, Mai had only to accept the simple truth that love was there, whether she felt it or not. Sentiments such as 'I love you' were unnecessary. Her mother loved her with the teeth of a comb, gliding through Mai’s damp hair as she hummed an unattainable lullabye. No words, just the vibration of a tired voice and rhythmic motion. As a younger child, Mai found comfort in sinking down into her mother’s contentment, wrapped tight in that simple gesture, suffering through harsher tugs and tangles for the feeling of care. Her father loved her with material grants, ready and willing to purchase whatever she so desired, from delicate confectionery treats to finely crafted hairpins and pearl-lined combs. And the love that they shared, the small bond that tied the two to Mai ineffably, came in the ways they pushed her towards a future she couldn’t even begin to grasp, one hand on either shoulder.

holy shit idek how to describe this fic. just wudjzksnfkekcnskwudk it’s incredible. the best characterisation I’ve ever read, the author Gets the characters so well. absolutely STUNNING prose. beautiful imagery, tender and complicated relationships, meshes with canon in Such a good way. this fic is the love of my life

the best mailee fic ever

minutes/millennia Ship: Maribel Hearn/Usami Renko Fandom: Touhou Project Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25916080/chapters/62985241 Summary: When Maribel Hearn doesn't appear at one of their club meetings, Usami Renko assumes that she's dreaming, and that she'll return soon. Months pass, though, and she remains absent; moreover, Renko must find out why someone who looks suspiciously like her has been seen on university campus.

That moment when you get stuck in some other world due to your abilities fudging up but you still love your college girlfriend even after thousands of years (doesn't mean you can't love a different girlfriend too).

[sacredbathos]

It was in 1952, on the deck of the ship on which I made my first journey abroad, that I exchanged a reconciliatory handshake with the sun. From that day on, I have found myself unable to part company with it. The sun became associated with the main highway of my life. And little by little, it tanned my skin brown, branding me as a member of the other race. One might object that thought belongs, essentially, to the night, that creation with words is of necessity carried out in the fevered darkness of night. Indeed, I had still not lost my old habit of working through the small hours, and I was surrounded by people whose skins unmistakably bore witness to nocturnal thinking. Yet why must it be that men always seek out the depths, the abyss? Why must thought, like a plumb line, concern itself exclusively with vertical descent? Why was it not feasible for thought to change direction and climb vertically up, ever up, towards the surface? Why should the area of the skin, which guarantees a human being’s existence in space, be most despised and left to the tender mercies of the senses? I could not understand the laws governing the motion of thought—the way it was liable to get stuck in unseen chasms whenever it set out to go deep; or, whenever it aimed at the heights, to soar away into boundless and equally invisible heavens, leaving the corporeal form undeservedly neglected.

- Yukio Mishima, Sun and Steel

[plenilune]

was tagged by @sandovers to do this meme; when u get this u have to put 5 songs 🎵 u actually listen to, publicly. then, send this to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) ✨ LIKE JACQUI I am baffled by the wording of the meme -- are you trying to suss out Musik Sekrits and not the cool stuff everyone says they listen to all the time? alas, I am always happy to prove I'm the living fulfillment of the old don't-hand-the-trans-folk-the-aux-under-any-circumstances stereotype. anyway here's five songs I've been listening to a lot lately, some new to me, some old.

"So Pale It Shone In The Night" - The Stranger. this is from his album Watching Dead Empires in Decay which I see as a sort of urban mirror to the unsettling rural soundscapes of prior album Bleaklow. you may also know the Stranger from his work as the Caretaker, where he plays a lot with memory and sense of place. I've been cycling around on a lot of half-formed thoughts about dying empires (huh, wonder why) and industry towns after the industry's left and cities and memory lately and this track sounds like -- waking up, or trying to fall asleep, in a thin-walled apartment in a massive apartment block, and the sounds of furnaces, of neighbours moving about, doing dishes, putting the kettle on, radio static, the traffic and the trains outside, all these sounds blur together, the sounds of life, but weary and a little melancholy. anyway I'm obsessed with this entire album but this vivid and tactile little soundscape is one of my chief delights at the moment.

"Are You Going to Leave Me?" - Isobel Campbell. old favourite song from an old favourite album, this arrangement of a traditional ballad that's zigzagged back and forth from the UK to Appalachia for centuries builds layer upon layer, verse after verse, in a way that's incredibly driving and haunting.

"gec 2 Ü" - 100 gecs. feels like every six months a different 100 gecs song I hadn't paid individual attention to before completely takes over my psyche and I listen to it on repeat for hours. love the way this plays with melodramatic glittery early 2000s style ballad format, like Angels and Airwaves crossed with a 90s chanteuse, similar to "xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_ÜXXx" but less eerie, warping and toying with the sound, just detached enough to be a little arch and playful, and then breaks into one of the most wrenchingly sincere and tender refrains I've ever heard. "you're sitting all alone / and you call me on the phone / and you say, I need love / can you get to me now?" I get shivers and my chest aches. yeah. that's what it's like.

"Walk Like A Motherfucker" - Ghost Funk Orchestra. I listen to this a lot on the walk to work, even though it is about being a sleazy con man who is maybe beginning to weary of the grift, and all I do is sell groceries for Jeff Be-- WAIT A MINUTE. anyway, Ghost Funk Orchestra is one of my favourite recent discoveries -- for one, they actually deliver on the vibes promise inherent in the name, and I've been burned by so many bands with cool names promising a specific weird and chewy atmosphere they don't bother to actually create. absolutely great spectral, jammable funk. also while the band is not local, their record label is run out of an old favourite record shop in Loveland, Ohio, whose catalogue Corey and I have been plumbing excitedly since we found out about them last month.

"Myth" - Julie Feeney. I rediscovered this album I used to listen to a lot in 2011 last year when I was going through my old last.fm stats (YEAH BABY) trying to find a couple of obscure lost favourites. it is! so infectious! anyway this song came up on shuffle recently and reminded me about Julie Feeney once again and now I keep returning to it. this feels like watching a creek bubble up, wildly playful and inventive, skipping stones, spinning dizzily, whispering secrets.

[charmtion]

It is not a thing to be repeated: the tender layers of her dream. That it happened she commits more to fable than to fact. A lapse in the synapse that plumbs the way between memory and imagining. So—it will not be repeated. Let them sit like brothers, then. Later it will be the three of them, gathered at the dining room table for a feast. Her with the steam of roiling water laying colour to her cheeks. Them dark-eyed, expectant. They will sit, the three of them. Sit and eat together; pick the flesh of a lamb from its pink-hued bones, darken their teeth with wine. After, Robb will take his leave: to the pine-scented chasm of his car, to the shadowed workings of the streets he runs at night. And Jon—Jon will follow her wherever she treads. Tend the pale crook of her finger as a flock its shepherd.

I found this section from your last update fascinating so here is a ⭐️ for you to talk more about it, if you would be kind enough, Charm. Thank you!

this is me playing with the idea of an unreliable narrator // the general fallibility of memory; & the conditioning of the mind to accept something difficult or uncomfortable as a distant, dissociative general miasma rather than a concrete event or emotion—in this instance, the did they // didn't they re Sansa, Jon & Robb on the evening a year previous to the timeframe of the final chapter 🫀

there's a distinct sense of push & pull; Sansa literally toys with the idea of the event from the beginning of the chapter to its end, but she dresses it as something else—a wolf in sheep's clothing, if you will; the idea of a feast, communal & collaborative, a sacrificial lamb, the sharing of its flesh, wine & blood, the power that rests unevenly between the three; packaged in this quasi-religious imagery that sits v well within the overall atmosphere & setting of the fic which is dictated by Irish // Catholic underpinnings—& Sansa dresses it like that so she can allow herself to not only think about it, but relive it: dissect it, desire it—albeit it in terms so abstract she (& we alongside her) continue to wonder if it ever happened at all. ✨ x

ask-game: director’s cut

[cosmicanger]

Stephen Antonakos: Pillows

PRESS RELEASE

January 13 – February 24, 2023

Bookstein Projects is pleased to announce an exhibition of Antonakos's Pillow series from the dynamic early Sixties, a period marked by the powerful emergence of both Pop Art and Minimalism. The series was first installed at New York's Byron Gallery in 1964, again at the exhibition organized by Houston's Contemporary Art Museum in 1971 and most recently at Lori Bookstein Fine Art in 2013. This is the artist's sixth solo show with Bookstein Projects.

The gallery is also pleased to announce the forthcoming monograph, Stephen Antonakos: Neon and Geometry, published by Rizzoli with a new essay by David Ebony. The book will be available in the fall of 2023.

From our current perspective, the Pillows may be understood within the long development of European found-object and assemblage traditions, particularly from Miro to Burri and on through to the contemporary work of such great American artists as Bontecou, Rauschenberg, and Chamberlain. The Pillows' other essential context is their creation specifically at the temporal intersection of the emergence of both Pop and Minimalism – nearly simultaneous movements surging in very dissimilar directions.

By the early Sixties Antonakos had left behind his hand-made Constructions and "Sewlages" and was working with non-referential, abstract geometry in neon, his signature medium. Suddenly, unexpectedly, at this pivotal moment there was a detour into a unique series of profoundly personal, nighttime compulsions involving pillows and – once again – found media. Some of the elements are presented "as is" and others are variously painted, manipulated, or even hidden beneath their pillowcases. The rush lasted over a year. Each Pillow reverberates with inner emotional, psychological subtexts. Perhaps more radical than even their most visceral operations is their displacement from human contact and the horizontal to their exposed vertical positions on the wall. This change from private to public recalls Rauschenberg's famous "Bed," but the Pillows have also gone through a lot on the way.

Asked about the "detour" into his distinct and distinctly strange constellation of Pillows, Antonakos said, "It squeezed me, it had me in its grip. I was going somewhere else but it wound me up and pulled me into its coil. I ricocheted from one to the next without rest, without awakening." This does not sound like Antonakos, and the Pillows don't look like Antonakos either – at least not at first. Yet the compelling unconscious force that produced these urgent, almost automatic, handmade objects is upon further consideration quite similar to the unmediated, direct process that has informed his decisions and his hand throughout the more than five decades of neon installations, Panels, and drawings since then.

The intensity and immediacy of these profoundly internal works, for all their tortured, nocturnal content, still show the tender, succinct hand of the artist resisting – with various results – the violent. In the cuts, the bristling areas of nails, the geometric contortions of plumbing pipes, the buttons, rods, and other words and objects revealed or hidden; Antonakos's central formalism can be recognized. For all the vivid yet ambiguous emotional content, these real things in real spaces are shaped not only by internal pressures, but by his natural, deep-seated formal rigor.

[edu43543hld]

The Essentials of Property Construction: A Comprehensive Guide

Introduction Property construction is a critical aspect of the real estate industry, serving as the foundation for residential, commercial, and industrial development. Whether you’re a property developer, investor, or first-time builder, understanding the process and key elements of property construction can save time, money, and effort. This article provides a comprehensive guide to property construction, covering every stage from planning to completion.

1. Pre-Construction Phase

The pre-construction phase is crucial for laying the groundwork for a successful project. It involves several key steps, including:

Feasibility Study: Conducting a feasibility study to assess the project's viability. This includes analyzing the location, target market, and financial returns.

Site Analysis: Evaluating the site’s soil quality, topography, and access to utilities like water, electricity, and drainage.

Permits and Approvals: Obtaining the necessary building permits, zoning approvals, and regulatory clearances from local authorities.

Budgeting and Financing: Estimating the overall project cost and securing financing through loans, investors, or self-funding.

Design and Planning: Collaborating with architects and engineers to create blueprints, floor plans, and 3D renderings.

2. Planning and Design

Effective planning and design are vital to ensure functionality, aesthetics, and sustainability. This stage includes:

Architectural Design: Designing the structure’s layout, appearance, and functionality. This stage ensures the building’s form aligns with the client's vision.

Structural Design: Engineers design the structural framework, considering load-bearing capacity, seismic resistance, and material selection.

MEP Design: Mechanical, Electrical, and Plumbing (MEP) designs ensure the smooth operation of essential building systems like HVAC, water supply, and electrical wiring.

Sustainability and Green Building: Incorporating eco-friendly features, energy-efficient appliances, and sustainable building materials to meet green building standards.

3. Procurement Phase

Once the planning and design are finalized, the next step is to source the materials, equipment, and labor required to execute the project. The key activities in this phase are:

Selecting Contractors and Suppliers: Hiring experienced contractors, subcontractors, and suppliers to procure high-quality materials and equipment.

Tendering and Bidding: Conducting a competitive bidding process to select contractors offering the best value for money.

Material Procurement: Ordering and purchasing raw materials like cement, steel, bricks, and finishing materials like tiles and paint.

4. Construction Phase

The construction phase is the most intensive part of the process, where the physical structure takes shape. Key activities include:

Site Preparation: Clearing the site, leveling the land, and setting up temporary structures like storage sheds and worker accommodations.

Foundation Work: Laying the foundation, which could be shallow (for small buildings) or deep (for multi-story or heavy structures).

Structural Framing: Building the core framework, including walls, beams, columns, and slabs.

MEP Installation: Installing mechanical, electrical, and plumbing systems to ensure functionality and safety.

Roofing and Exterior Finishing: Installing the roof, windows, and exterior finishes to protect the building from weather elements.

Interior Work: Completing the interior work, including wall finishes, flooring, ceilings, and fixtures.

5. Quality Control and Safety

Maintaining safety and quality control on-site is essential to prevent accidents, ensure durability, and meet regulatory standards. Important steps include:

On-Site Inspections: Regular site inspections by project managers, supervisors, and regulatory authorities.

Adherence to Safety Protocols: Implementing safety measures such as protective gear, safety drills, and hazard signage to protect workers.

Quality Testing: Testing materials like concrete, steel, and electrical components to ensure they meet industry standards.

Compliance with Building Codes: Ensuring the construction adheres to local building codes, environmental regulations, and labor laws.

6. Post-Construction Phase

Once construction is complete, the project enters the post-construction phase. This final stage ensures that the property is ready for use or sale. Key tasks include:

Final Inspection and Handover: Conducting a comprehensive inspection to identify and rectify any defects before handing over the property to the client.

Commissioning of Systems: Testing HVAC, electrical, and plumbing systems to ensure they operate efficiently.

Cleaning and Site Clearance: Clearing construction debris and cleaning the premises for occupancy.

Occupancy Certification: Obtaining an occupancy certificate from local authorities to certify that the building is safe for use.

7. Common Challenges in Property Construction

Property construction is a complex endeavor, and several challenges may arise, such as:

Cost Overruns: Unexpected expenses due to price fluctuations in materials or project delays.

Delays and Time Management: Delays caused by weather, labor shortages, or supply chain disruptions.

Regulatory Issues: Delays in obtaining permits, regulatory approvals, or compliance issues.

Labor Shortages: Difficulty in finding skilled workers to complete specialized tasks.

8. Tips for Successful Property Construction

To ensure a smooth construction process, here are some practical tips:

Plan Ahead: Detailed planning prevents costly delays and errors.

Set a Realistic Budget: Account for contingencies to avoid financial strain.

Hire Qualified Professionals: Work with experienced contractors, engineers, and architects.

Use Quality Materials: Avoid low-quality materials that may compromise the building’s longevity.

Embrace Technology: Use construction management software to track progress and streamline communication.

9. Conclusion

Property construction is a multifaceted process that requires meticulous planning, coordination, and execution. By following the key phases—from pre-construction to post-construction—stakeholders can reduce risks, manage costs, and achieve successful project outcomes. Whether you’re a developer, investor, or homebuilder, understanding the essentials of property construction will enable you to make informed decisions and maximize returns.

[regenwavemobiletherapy]

How Shockwave Therapy for Tennis Elbow Can Speed Up Your Recovery

Tennis elbow, medically known as lateral epicondylitis, is a common condition that causes pain and inflammation around the outer part of the elbow. Although it’s often associated with tennis players, it can affect anyone who performs repetitive arm and wrist movements. For many sufferers, the condition can become a chronic problem that disrupts daily activities, impacting both quality of life and overall mobility.

One treatment gaining significant attention for its effectiveness in treating tennis elbow is shockwave therapy. This non-invasive, cutting-edge therapy has been shown to significantly reduce pain and promote healing. In this article, we will explore how shockwave therapy for tennis elbow.

What is Tennis Elbow?

Tennis elbow refers to the pain or tenderness on the outer part of the elbow, caused by overuse or strain on the forearm muscles and tendons. It often occurs when the tendons that connect the forearm muscles to the elbow become inflamed, usually due to repetitive motions such as gripping, lifting, or twisting. The condition is common in sports, particularly tennis, but it can also affect people in professions like painting, plumbing, or office work—basically anyone who performs repetitive arm motions.

The Symptoms of Tennis Elbow

The hallmark symptom of tennis elbow is pain on the outside of the elbow, which may worsen with certain movements such as lifting, gripping, or twisting the arm. Additional symptoms can include:

Pain or weakness in the forearm or wrist

Discomfort when lifting objects or shaking hands

Pain that radiates from the elbow down the forearm

Swelling or tenderness at the lateral epicondyle (the bony bump on the outside of the elbow)

While tennis elbow can often improve with rest, ice, and over-the-counter pain relief, some individuals may struggle with long-term symptoms that do not resolve on their own. This is where treatments like shockwave therapy come into play.

What is Shockwave Therapy?

Shockwave therapy, also known as extracorporeal shock wave therapy (ESWT), is a non-invasive treatment that uses high-energy acoustic waves to promote healing in injured tissue. The therapy works by sending acoustic waves through the skin to the affected area, stimulating circulation, reducing inflammation, and encouraging the body’s natural healing response.

The treatment is typically administered by a trained physiotherapist or healthcare professional. A handheld device is used to deliver the shockwaves to the painful area, which can feel somewhat uncomfortable but is generally well-tolerated. The energy from the shockwaves helps to break down scar tissue, promote the growth of new blood vessels, and increase the production of collagen, a protein that is essential for tissue repair.

How Shockwave Therapy Works for Tennis Elbow

In the case of tennis elbow, the tendons around the elbow joint become damaged or degenerated due to repetitive strain. Over time, this damage can lead to pain, reduced mobility, and even chronic inflammation. Shockwave therapy targets the affected tendons, helping to:

1. Increase Blood Flow to the Area

Shockwave therapy increases circulation to the tendons, which helps deliver oxygen and nutrients needed for tissue healing. Increased blood flow also helps remove metabolic waste products, promoting faster recovery.

2. Promote Collagen Production

Collagen is essential for tendon healing, as it forms the building blocks for new tissue. Shockwave therapy stimulates fibroblast cells, which are responsible for producing collagen, accelerating the repair of the damaged tendon.

3. Reduce Pain and Inflammation

The acoustic waves help to break up the inflammation and reduce the sensitivity of the nerves in the affected area. This leads to a decrease in pain and discomfort, making it easier to move the arm and resume normal activities.

4. Stimulate Tissue Regeneration

The mechanical effects of shockwaves stimulate the production of new blood vessels and encourage tissue regeneration. This helps repair the damaged tendon and reduces the likelihood of re-injury in the future.

5. Break Down Scar Tissue

Chronic tennis elbow can result in the formation of scar tissue around the tendons. Shockwave therapy helps break down this scar tissue, improving flexibility and mobility in the elbow.

Benefits of Shockwave Therapy for Tennis Elbow

Shockwave therapy offers numerous benefits for individuals suffering from tennis elbow, making it one of the most effective and efficient treatment options available. Some of the key advantages include:

1. Non-Invasive and Safe

Unlike surgery, shockwave therapy is non-invasive, meaning no cuts or incisions are necessary. There is minimal risk of infection or complications, and most patients experience only mild discomfort during the treatment session.

2. Quick and Convenient

Shockwave therapy typically takes between 15 to 20 minutes per session. Depending on the severity of the condition, a patient may require 3 to 5 sessions spaced about a week apart. This makes it a convenient option for busy individuals who may not have time for more invasive treatments or lengthy rehabilitation programs.

3. Reduces the Need for Medications

Many tennis elbow sufferers rely on pain medications, such as nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs), to manage their discomfort. Shockwave therapy offers a drug-free alternative that can significantly reduce pain and inflammation without the need for medication.

4. Promotes Faster Recovery

One of the most compelling benefits of shockwave therapy is its ability to speed up recovery. By stimulating circulation, collagen production, and tissue regeneration, the therapy helps the body heal faster and more effectively than other conservative treatments.

5. Improves Long-Term Outcomes

While tennis elbow can sometimes become a chronic condition, shockwave therapy has been shown to produce long-lasting results. Patients who undergo this therapy often experience sustained pain relief and improved function in the affected arm.

What to Expect During a Shockwave Therapy Session

During a shockwave therapy session for tennis elbow, you will lie comfortably while the therapist applies a gel to the affected area. The gel acts as a conductor for the shockwaves. The therapist will then use a handheld device to deliver the acoustic waves to the elbow.

The treatment can be mildly uncomfortable, but the intensity of the shockwaves can be adjusted according to your pain tolerance. Most people describe the sensation as a series of quick pulses or taps. After the session, you may experience some temporary soreness, but this typically subsides within a few hours.

Because shockwave therapy is non-invasive, there is no recovery time required. You can return to your normal activities immediately after treatment, although it’s generally recommended to avoid heavy lifting or strenuous activities for a short period.

How Many Sessions Are Needed?

The number of shockwave therapy sessions required will vary based on the severity of the tennis elbow and how well the body responds to treatment. Typically, patients will need between 3 to 5 sessions, spaced about 1 week apart. After each session, you may notice gradual improvements in pain and mobility.

Some individuals may experience relief after just one or two treatments, while others may require the full course of therapy to achieve maximum benefit. Your therapist will monitor your progress and adjust the treatment plan as needed.

Is Shockwave Therapy for Tennis Elbow Effective?

Numerous studies and clinical trials have demonstrated the effectiveness of shockwave therapy for treating tennis elbow. Research shows that patients who undergo shockwave therapy experience significant reductions in pain and improvements in function compared to those who receive only conservative treatments, such as physical therapy or medication.

The success rate of shockwave therapy varies, but studies suggest that 60-80% of patients experience substantial relief from pain and improved range of motion after completing a series of treatments. For many patients, shockwave therapy is a highly effective alternative to more invasive treatments, such as corticosteroid injections or surgery.

Conclusion

Tennis elbow can be a frustrating and debilitating condition, but shockwave therapy offers a promising solution for speeding up recovery. By stimulating healing processes in the body, reducing pain, and improving mobility, this non-invasive treatment can help you get back to your daily activities faster and more effectively.

If you're struggling with tennis elbow and looking for an alternative to medications or surgery, shockwave therapy may be the key to faster recovery. Speak with a healthcare professional to determine if this treatment is right for you and take the first step toward a pain-free future.

[finishinglinepress]

NEW FROM FINISHING LINE PRESS: What to Keep by Carlene M. Gadapee

On SALE: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/what-to-keep-by-carlene-m-gadapee/

What to Keep is a collection of keen #observations: choices made, minor regrets, small successes, and questions asked. There aren’t always answers to the questions, but the #poems in this collection explore the particular things and #experiences that lead us to them. Readers are invited into the poet-speaker’s musings about #childhood, of #family, of #companionship, and of #loss. We follow the speaker as she walks through time: capturing minnows, high school crushes and college mistakes, #marriage, the deaths of parents, and finally, a note of hope for the future, whatever it may have in store. In the end, “what to keep” becomes what remains, what is precious, and what forms the foundation of a #life filled with joy, sorrow, and finally, of contentment.

A poet-teacher both by vocation and by trade, Carlene M. Gadapee’s poetry and critical reviews have appeared or are forthcoming in many publications, including English Journal, Waterwheel Review, Gyroscope Review, Smoky Quartz, Think, Allium, Vox Populi, and MicroLit Almanac. She also received a “Best of the Net” nomination in 2023. Carlene lives and works in northern New Hampshire.

PRAISE FOR What to Keep by Carlene M. Gadapee

“Memories are imperfectly stitched together / with a yearning that hurts and cannot be helped,” writes Carlene Gadapee. In these skilled, elegant poems, she threads a way through the quiet history of love and duty, error and redemption. These poems rise into supplication, into sorrow, sometimes into anger; but Gadapee’s voice remains sure and supple, her senses always open to beauty and pain. “Something needs light, needs air,” she writes. Her tender collection reaches, always, toward that essential care.

–Dawn Potter, author of Accidental Hymn

This terrific chapbook catalogues, among other things, those artifacts of love we might not choose yet still carry. Deftly navigating between accrued losses and a tenacious sense of hope, Carlene Gadapee reveals with engaging turns what it is not just to survive, but to continue to live. She writes, “When I think of loss, it looks like empty envelopes.” Yet this small, wonderful book fills those spaces in us with the news of her sharp and perceptive poetry. “Plot the X on your graph, and then / find the why.” What to Keep is a discovery and a reckoning at once.

–BJ Ward, author of Jackleg Opera: Collected Poems 1990-2013

Beginning in a litany of questions, the poems in Carlene Gadapee’s What to Keep sift and weigh, offering no easy answers—instead a gorgeous landscape of memory and experience. Grounded in precise imagery, this is a book of divination by domestic objects—a stool, tissues in a wastebasket, an uncut tomato, opened envelopes—each poem asking what any of it means, how we make sense of a life out of the trappings of home. Be careful, though—plumbing the almost sweetness of loss with such precision and grace, each poem sturdy and braced, these poems will knock you off your gimbals by their ends. There is treasure and terror here. I’m struck by the patience of Gadapee’s craft, her deft control that seems a moment’s thought, but is anything but. What a stunning debut!

–Kerrin McCadden, author of American Wake

Carlene Gadapee’s skillful interweaving of order and disorder reminds us that what and who we choose “to keep” helps us to endure the inevitable chaos and uncertainty of our present, and also our remembered, lives. Even more importantly she demonstrates how, in turn, those choices can create the “quiet life” needed to write from deep in the heart as she does in poem after poem.

–Teresa Carson, author of Time Out of Joint

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