#invari faucet

[prompto-cam]

Kids Bathroom in Atlanta Inspiration for a mid-sized transitional kids' white tile and marble tile marble floor, white floor and single-sink alcove shower remodel with shaker cabinets, brown cabinets, a one-piece toilet, white walls, an undermount sink, marble countertops, white countertops, a niche and a built-in vanity

[blooniverse]

Bathroom in Atlanta A mid-sized transitional children's bathroom with white tile and marble tile, a white floor, and a single-sink alcove shower design is shown. It also has shaker cabinets, brown cabinets, a one-piece toilet, white walls, an undermount sink, marble countertops, white countertops, a niche, and a built-in vanity.

[headspace-hotel]

I've been able to neither read nor write stories in a long time. Poetry too, for the most part. I guess what I mean is that the art of the written word has become a stranger to me.

I hate what poetry classes did to my writing. Yes, the Wikipedia poems, but they are easier because they're not my own words, and I have gotten so many comments on those saying they are powerful pieces of art, but for me personally they're a way of hiding from the awfulness of trying to assemble my own words into poetry.

I hate the poems I wrote in poetry classes. I hate the version of me I showed others in those classes. I hate the way poetry classes taught me to draw from my own experiences and thoughts for poetry. I hate everything I learned about how to interpret poetry, the eye with which I learned to read poetry, and the vocabulary I learned to talk about poetry, and ultimately, I hate "literary" poetry.

"Literary," by the way, is the category of art that has more meaning, value and legitimacy than the "other" category, which is not "literary." A "literary" poem is published in special, fancy "literary" magazines and almost invariably written by a person with a MFA or PhD in poetry.

You could say that the distinguishing feature of "literary" art is its overwhelming sense of legitimacy. A "literary" poem is a poem in the same way that a nonprofit organization is charitable, that a CEO is rich, or that an SAT score demonstrates your academic prowess. It is a poem completely immune to the possibility that someone will think it sucks. It expects to be absorbed, analyzed, studied, and discoursed upon because something feels "official" about whatever designates it as Good Art.

Literary poems are not only written by and for a special subset of people that have been formally taught to read and interpret poetry, they are written exclusively for audiences that will automatically assume they are Good Art; beautiful, meaningful, and worth interpreting. Because of this, most literary poems are literal incomprehensible nonsense.

Just take this one:

Say I climb the ladder of wheat/and at the top there is a faucet dripping beads of water/but the water takes a year to turn into an eagle/and the sky's forty-three shades of gray pierce/the first inflection of my heart, the point where the signals/throw grass into the river. Say the river sags/and the horizon sucks the lance out of the ghost's hands/like the moment of being born, the point where a shadow's/tongue slides through the faultline./Grace. Sunlight, cherries.

(it continues like this)

And conceptually, I love art as collaboration between the creator and viewer, where abstract, indeterminate and murky things are forced to take shape through the participation of the viewer as they interpret and associate things that stand out to them in the work! The "aliveness" of art in the abyss between what the artist attempts to communicate and what the viewer feels is the coolest thing to me!

But this philosophy of art is incompatible with the idea that there is an elite category of art that is worthy of interpretation, analysis, and reverence. I can fuck around with this random word generator and get something that is roughly as meaningful as the above. I don't mean that as demeaning to the poem, I mean that I feel demeaned by the poem, because its linguistic play and experimentation is something that everybody can do, that everyone should try doing, but this poem has been designated as something exceptionally meaningful and worthy and its writer teaches writing at the University of Chicago. You can click through that website for hours and not find a single soul without a MFA or above in poetry or creative writing.

For me, the world of "literary" writing was like a room with a splatter of vomit across the floor that no one else would acknowledge. The ability to formally study poetry in college was a privilege, but I was constantly aware of privilege, and the thing about privilege is the more you have, the less you think about it. What of the ability to pursue a PhD in poetry? What small fraction of people could expend so much time and money on something that didn't really have a career associated with it? And of that fraction, which fraction would be seen as "good enough" to publish poetry books and to teach? With poetry this indeterminate, how were the "good" poets selected at all?

Literary writing excludes poor people, and the existence of published literary poets who are immigrants or minorities doesn't negate this. Increasingly, published writing in general excludes poor people. A LOT of popular authors graduated from very elite schools!

But literary poetry I hate especially, because it puffs itself up on unlocking the universe and human experience and pain, as if insight into those things is a seldom-appearing gift instead of something many people have, except they don't have the time and money to train themselves into expressing it in a way that appears Literary.

The "literary" vs. "non-literary" paradigm had an inescapable rottenness to it. I couldn't stop thinking about the luminous conversations I'd had with people who lacked the formal training to express ideas in a "literary" manner, but still showed me something vital about the universe.

I've been bitching about literary poetry for like two years now, and really, I just hate what studying all that shit has done to my own writing style. It's so frustrating that the joy and playfulness won't come back.

[tacticalhimbo]

PALE STATIC EXCHANGE... 2! Posting this a bit early, but I'm very excited to have been able to dip my toes into @palestaticexchange this time around! It's very cool to see how alive the Disco Elysium fandom is.

That said, this piece is for @glitch-critter , who asked for "stuff relating to HDB's experience/psyche, especially with regards to electrochemistry/addiction".

WORDS: 2.3K

I really liked the prompts provided, and I thought it would be cool to kind of explore how relapse and recovery can manifest in forms different than the baseline addiction. As such, it would seem Harry has found himself over-correcting himself in regard to his work...

I hope you do enjoy it <3

Also, let me know if you’d like a more permanent copy of this, too! I’m always happy to provide a PDF version of the writings I do :3

Coastal winds were much tamer as they rolled through the densely packed buildings of Central Jamrock, only just able to sustain themselves as they lapped around the perimeter of Precinct 41. Harry wouldn't be here, if not for Kim. It was he who'd defended him to Vicquemare. He who'd attested to the idea that Harry could get better, with a little guidance and a lot of patience. He who'd truly believed in him, despite everything they faced. Creeping along his senses was the smell of blood shed by belief and held together by vengeance. Remnants of a decades' long war, and its lasting effects on the human psyche—both those that were in tact, and those that were already fragmented—as the world evolved around them. The stillness of the air was dry, just as was the mouth of the disco detective who'd found himself falling into familiar habit. Eat, sleep, work, party—

[LOGIC] No, not anymore. You've given that up now.

[VOLITION] You are a changed man. Or so you would like to have others believe.

Harry is a changed man, or so he would like others to believe. He would like to believe it.

Yet the familiar dryness that consumed Harry did not feel changed. Nor did the aching that settled into his musculature, drawing the thickened fibers back like that of a bowstring, arming them—arming him—to snap at a moment's notice. His stomach felt a familiar sickness. One that had consumed him during the infancy stages of the Martinaise investigation. A horrific hangover, but this one was different. It was dry. He was dry. And that irritated him. Thick brows knitted as his psyche wandered to the idea, briefly leaning into the comforting embrace of familiarity of outrage. It was easier, after all, to be mad at the circumstance than to navigate it. But… It didn't feel right. No, he wasn't angry about it. Perhaps a part of him was. But Harry? Him? He was uncertain. Afraid. Every time he wet his lips in consideration, he knew he would not be able to stop himself. Not when—

[ELECTROCHEMISTRY] It's a miracle you even lasted this long. It's like something has snapped in you—a nerve ending. You've lost yourself, Harry. Truly, lost yourself. And god knows how long it will take you to come back this time.

The subtle emphasis makes his skin crawl as his head shakes, hands pausing to linger under the chilled water pouring forth into the sink basin. He sighed, looking to the dingy mirror before him.

Through the speckles of old debris and matted dust, and past the droplets of dew that form with the arterial spray of the sink's faucet (a sign that the mechanism, much like the rest of the restroom, is in need of repair; it has been for as long as one can remember), the visage that greets Harry is… healthier. It invokes a sense of pride not too dissimilar to when he'd first whispered his name—the one he had chosen, not the one he was given—and truly seen himself for the first time. Like the waves, it swelled briefly before crashing down. Fell upon the invariable signs of his past habits. Like looking through the bottom of a liquor-filled glass, it was hazy; a deluge of desperation and need encapsulated by bloatedness and swollenness. Sat neatly among the discolored planes. Pallid skin darkened and reddened as the blood vessels beneath the skin remained agape, prepared for consumption.

[ENCYCLOPEDIA] Telangiectasia. Small blood vessels sat near the skin's surface. It is natural for them to sit so high, but normally they remain unseen until there is an increase in blood flow.

[INLAND EMPIRE] Recall how one's features become rosy when hearts begin to flutter, or how the sun's warmth seems to sit upon the apples of one's cheeks like a comforting blanket.

[DRAMA] There is an art to this.

[LOGIC] There is not. This is a different sort of happenstance. The events that have led to your flushed appearance are not a simple point of life, nor something to be proud of.

But it is, a simple point of life. Accentuation of Harry's simple existence. It is not something he can change, especially as that nausea begins to grow in his gut. His mouth feels full of cotton; his body so writhe with tension that he begins to tremble and grow dizzy. His nose feels like a small balloon in the middle of his face. His tongue feels swollen and snail-like, floundering about amidst tainted teeth as trembling hands cusp beneath the faucet and draw splashes of water toward his lips.

[ELECTROCHEMISTRY] Drink, but it will not replace what you need. No, this is nothing, brother. The best cure for a disease like this is indulgence. Morphine, cigarettes, rum… You need them again. You will not survive without them. This? This is—

[COMPOSURE] Embarrassing.

[AUTHORITY] Weak. How do you expect anybody to take you seriously? Nobody would listen to someone so pathetic.

The taunts were met with the sound of the door slamming; a minute signal in the grand scheme of things. It went unnoticed by those in the wing's hallway. To them, it was business as usual. If not Harry, then Satellite-Officer Vicquemare. If not Vicquemare, then Captain Pryce.

[RHETORIC] The police aren't there to mess up; the police are there to preserve the mess.

[ENCYCLOPEDIA] Says the professor of Ecole Normale de Revachol. Someone has been reading in his spare time.

[LOGIC] Or simply observing with a clear mind.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] This is a dangerous line of thinking to be falling down. Your past airing of grievances with the RCM has earned you several stern talkings to. In his office, Captain Pryce grimaces at the clutched papers in his aging hands.

[RHETORIC] It was addiction that saved you. Easier to blame the abstract than to examine the system.

A shiver. Harry wasn't the only one struggling. He knew that, even before his days of total sobriety. This sort of culture was normalized; expected of its officers. Many of his habits he fell into through the hands of his coworkers, even if they were not his introduction to the idea. Of course, things were different now. After his outburst, and the disaster in Martinaise, the RCM began cracking down on the use of substances among its officers. Many, like Harry, suddenly found themselves thrust into the true responsibility of duty. Conscious and aware to the severity of their workloads. Many quit. Many more fell into old habits and were systemically demoted until the work no longer supported their needs. And those, like Harry, leaned into the work. Buried themselves in mountains of paperwork chasing that adrenaline-fueled high by doing something—anything—to feel alive.

Yet they never did. Harry never did.

Time blurred past and he was, effectively, the same old corpse he always was. A puppet of the RCM's agenda. The failed Dick Mullen. The swaying body strung from the rafters, dancing along to the fluttering shimmer of the disco ball.

Then, there is nothing. Only warm, primordial blackness. An inordinate amount of time passes, not even measurable by the distant, rhythmic technological beeps.

[PERCEPTION] Hospital monitors? No. Alarms. An alarm.

[LOGIC] It must be morning. We should get up.

[VOLITION] We shouldn't. We can't. It's much too difficult.

The soft rustling of sheets.

[PAIN THRESHOLD] Easy…

Muscles ache and the silence is inevitably broken by a low groan. Sunlight filters in through dusted curtains, particles coming to fill the air as a heavy hand finds itself upon the alarm clock beside him. Equally heavy feet find the floor, though remain unable to hold the body above them. In a quick sequence, Harry finds himself on the floor, slumped and slouched in an all too familiar position. The aches stop, albeit briefly. Like a fly to the ointment, his conscience sticks to it. Chases it as the limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering awakens itself once more. He is on his feet again, cotton cloth sliding across the floor as his body wills itself to the bathroom.

A mirror hangs above a bent, not broken, sink. Languid hands find themselves upon the faucet, though are gentler in the way they manipulate it. Hot water sprays from the stem and steam covers the mirror. Harry cannot see himself, just the outline of a man.

[CONCEPTUALIZATION] There is an irony in seeing the image. It was not always like this.

[VOLITION] Those days are long gone, now.

Cloth falls from the man's frame, though it remains obscured by the apparatus before him. He slowly reaches his hand toward the surface of the mirror…

[INLAND EMPIRE] You're certain you wish to do this? You may not like what you see there.

[HARRY] I don't care.

A deft motion. The condensation on the reflective surface gives under the palm that wipes it, leaving in its path a clear view to the tired visage that stares back. To the naked, pallid flesh that rolls from a slumped frame. Hair highlights various pathways, traveling down between taped and tucked mounds and rolling along the rumbling stomach, and continuing through the fog and beyond the sink's barrier. It traverses the adhesive edges of Harry's binding (he's still thankful he has learned this alternative; not only does it keep his natural form, but it allows him to wear his shirts open with pride) and over his shoulders. Down thick arms to the bruised knuckles that hold the porcelain lip of the sink. It flutters out, then reappears upon his rounded jaw, mutton chops growing thickened around his lips. He's due for a shave, but a part of him enjoys this rugged look. It's… different. He's different.

He's happy.

[COMPOSURE] You're exhausted.

[SAVOIR FAIRE] You've dropped the toothbrush. Again. Your hands feel foreign to your own body.

His eyes follow dirt-stained grout lines down to the floor, only to find that sad little toothbrush dried beside the trash bin. He's exhausted. Creaking and groaning, Harry bends to discard the brush; opts to simply swish some mouthwash and try not to think of the burning sensation that draws his nose to scrunch and his eyes to water. He does it twice. Perhaps to mask the fact he has not properly brushed and will have to save that act for after his shift. Perhaps because he feels he deserves the ache; it invigorates him. Begins to bring him back to life and pull him from the vice grip weariness holds on him.

But it isn't enough.

Not as he washes himself in the shower, nearly tripping over the tub's lip as he climbs out afterward. Nor as he finds himself slumped against the wardrobe door, idly flipping through his clothing options and looking for his RCM jacket.

[PERCEPTION] It… should be here. Why isn't it here? Don't tell me we've lost it again.

[LOGIC] Nonsense. We brought it home. It is here, just not put away.

It's not enough as he waits for the toast to pop from its apparatus, where the sudden click and ding nearly makes him crawl out of his skin. Coffee spills on his shirt, bringing him back to the wardrobe once more, digging around for a new shirt and tie. Back to the kitchen. New coffee in his cup. Butter and jam on cooling bread. Crumbs dust his facial hair, only unsettled from their rest when he reaches to scratch a persistent itch. It is then when the realization clicks.

He's exhausted. He is unmoving. Those early morning aches have not been shaken, and have in fact only worsened with his moving through the morning routine. His mind has been quieter; nearly absent. He can barely recall what he's done and what he hasn't, with the only clues being the visible changes in his appearance that signify—at the very least—that he's done the basics and cleaned himself. But that's just it. If he can't even recall this, how in the world could he find himself responsible for the safety of others. How could he find himself amidst the greater world around him, with dozens of eyes on him—some pleading, some scrutinizing?

He'd done it before, under worse circumstances… but he wasn't that kind of animal anymore. He didn't want to be that kind of animal anymore.

Which is why, with a swaying physique and a hoarseness in his voice, he found himself on the phone with whichever unfortunate soul would find themselves on the other end of the line. Unfortunate, not for taking in his call-in, but for having to present it to Vicquemare and Pryce.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] Early morning ire. Slender knuckles knock on the door to ask permission to enter; it is granted. From his throne, Pryce sneers at the individual before him. His brow twitches, his posture stiffens.

[CAPTAIN PRYCE] What the hell do you mean he called out?

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] A pregnant pause. The avoidance of eye contact.

[UNKNOWN] He just did… Said something about feeling under the weather.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] The response was faint. Nearly whispered as the other end of the reigning duo entered with a stack of papers.

[JEAN VICQUEMARE] Who called out?

[CAPTAIN PRYCE] Your star pupil.

[ESPIRIT DE CORPS] Jean's posture slackens and he sneers. It's evident the sarcastic jab was more than enough to clue him in. Yet there is a subtleness in his eyes that almost suggests concern. He sets the papers on Pryce's desk then walks out without another word.

Shoulders slump and a ragged sigh escapes as Harry undoes his tie and discards it, absentmindedly tossing it to the coffee table. His shirt follows as he sinks into the comfortable contour of the couch. Tired eyes slip shut, coaxing the surrounding musculature to relax and begin a rippling effect. He melts, and for once he can feel the day passing.

And for once, he does not care. He deserves this rest, and nothing can convince him otherwise.

[momoleesq]

Chapter 4

​​4

“So you were saying,?” Nairo asked as she took a deep greasy bite of the fried turnip Ridley had convinced her to buy.

“So... there was four of 'em,” Ridley replied through a thick mouthful of bread and mushy turnip. “Chased 'em down Furley Street, through a couple alleys, then BANG!” He slammed his fist on the mouldy window sill. “Two big Trolls come from the left, one of ‘em swung a tree at me.”

“A whole tree?”

“Might as well have been. But I saw it coming, so I duck with the agility of a mountain goat and...”

“What's that?” Nairo snapped up and peered through the blinds at the corner they had been watching all morning. 

Ridley followed her eye line, leaning forward eagerly, the skin on his face tightened, drawing back like a wolf with a scent. He then tutted loudly and slumped back in his seat.

“Looks like Brown Back Ahmed unloading.”

“That looks like talisman silk, and that looks like Muskphant teeth! Those are contraband!” She looked at Ridley and frowned at his disinterest. “That is a serious violation of the Trade Embargo with the Rebel Goblin Tribes.” Her scowl deepened at Ridley's laconic shrug. She took her notepad out and licked her pencil. “What did you say his name was?”

“Easy there... Nancy notepad, we're here for a specific crime.”

“As an officer of the law, I cannot knowingly allow criminal acts to...”

Ridley held up his hand before she got a full head of steam going.

“This is a stakeout, an undercover stakeout, if you're gonna harass every half baked scoundrel with a trunk full of dodgy teapots on the dock, then the Cap'n might as well wave bye bye to his Diamond.” Ridley scrunched up his empty wrapper and threw it on the floor, belching loudly. 

“So anyway the    Troll swung this tree at me…”

“Let me guess, you survived?” Nairo asked, not bothering to hide her disinterest at Ridley’s ludicrous tales.

“No need to get sarcy,” Ridley muttered. 

Nairo scanned the dockyard in front of her, watching as a rabble formed around an incoming boat. The stevedores showed typical dockside democracy and began to wail on one another over who got to unload the ship and who got paid, the one with the most blood and teeth still in him invariably won. 

They fell into silence watching the endless ant like scurrying on the docks before them as men broke their backs keeping the economy of the city pumping night and day. The steady drip of a loose faucet in the dilapidated flat sounded like a metronome of deprivation counting the pass of seemingly endless hours. The slumlord they had rented the flat from, a swollen Goblin with a remarkably pronounced lisp, had asked no questions of the odd pair when he saw the shine of their gold, grinning lasciviously as he showed them the mouldy hole he called a flat. 

“Do people really live in these?” Nairo had asked when they entered.

“Better than a street corner,” Ridley replied. “Try not to touch too much,” he added. 

That had been nearly four hours ago. Since then, Nairo and Ridley had sat, argued, ate, and watched the daily toils of dockers, stevedores, criminals, and sailors etched out before them. 

“I've seen at least a century worth of gaol time happening on these docks in one morning, and you still haven’t seen this Benny Two Coats?” 

“Nope. Probably coz I'm not looking for Benny.”

“What?”

“Benny's a big time heavy.” Ridley let rip another loud, greasy burp. “If he did rob the bank then the last place you'll catch him is on the street. And even if he didn’t do the deed, he was casing someplace, and criminals are like rats, they always got a hole to scurry into. So, either way, Benny ain’t on the streets.”

“So where is he?” 

“Laying low, could be in one of a hundred places, this city's got more rat holes than... than...”

“A cheese factory?” 

“Bit cliched… but it'll do.”

“So how do we find him?”

“Follow the breadcrumbs. All we need to do now is find the right thread to start unravelling Benny's trail.”

“Now you're mixing metaphors.”

“I'm not wrong though... hold on a minute.” Ridley leapt up onto the table on his hands and knees, and peered through the blinds.. “If I'm not mistaken that fine example of interbred dogs down there is Mozlak.”

“Mozlak?”

“Low level counterfeiter, runs a bank cheque scam for Uncle Sam’s Kith. He uses the imported paper that only the Gov are s’posed to be able to get hold of, and that can only be brought in via the docks.” He hopped off the desk and gathered a few items. “Quick before the worm slips away.” 

They stormed out of the apartment and raced down the rotten staircase, peeling out into the daylight. Ridley slowed his pace and adopted the casual s   Troll of a man with nothing on his to do list. Nairo found the change of pace difficult, her police sensibilities dictated a chase rather than a prowl. Ridley swam in and out of the current of people, never raising his eyes, but still somehow keeping the counterfeiter in perfect view. Nairo scanned the little man, he appeared to be a dwarf but with no beard. He had a cherubic face with round cheeks and a swollen chin. A few bags exchanged hands between him and a sailor, then the dwarf slipped away. Ridley neatly side stepped and fell into a matching pace with their prey. Nairo struggled to keep the counterfeiter and Ridley in sight whilst avoiding the milling mass of bodies. The steaming smell of curry wafted around her, while the noises of cursing sailors filled the air. A nymph of some foreign variety sat on an oozing pile of fresh fish, and hawked her prices in a thin reedy voice. 

Ridley had shifted the angle of his pursuit again. The chase meandered back and forth through the curved alleys of the city. Slowly they left the noise and smell of the docks behind and ripped straight through the garment district. As they reached Ink Row, the Dwarf slipped into a shop with stained glass windows. Ridley came to a stop down the road and lit a smoke, while hunching into the collars of his coat. 

“What if he goes out the back?” Nairo asked.

“Ain’t him we're following anymore,” Ridley said, his eyes never leaving the storefront. “Remember, we're following the loaf not the crumbs.”

“What?”

Ridley did not bother to reply. He took off again, his coat flapping in the breeze as he had apparently picked up the sight of his next target. This time it seemed to be a wandering tree limb in a poorly tailored suit. He was more difficult to follow as he cut an unmatchable swathe through pedestrians. Ridley however didn’t seem to have a problem as he slipped in and out, with a duck of the shoulder here, and a smart sidestep there, he kept pace easily. The tree limb again disappeared into a shady looking shop and again Ridley calmly waited. Nairo did not like it. Officers should never be on such a pursuit without backup, let alone in the company of a PI with questionable loyalty. 

Ridley set off without warning. This criss-crossing game of follow the criminal continued for almost an hour, including two near drownings as their prey hopped on various boats and shuttles around the city. Ridley was tireless in his pursuit. As the game wore on, he seemed able to guess where their mark was going, taking several abrupt turns and dips through alleys and side streets, only to come out again only a few steps behind. They had since left the tree limb and had begun shadowing a large grey    Troll with a knotted lump for a head and round, slumped shoulders. Ridley held back and fell into step with Nairo. 

“Recognise where we are?” 

“Spinelli Walk. Rough part of town, officers are advised to never come alone... or at all if it could be helped.”

“Coppers aren't too welcome here, so dial it down.” Ridley had the remarkable ability of talking out of the side of his mouth with perfect enunciation. He kept his chin low, his small mouth hidden behind the raised lapels of his jacket, not a single syllable could be seen or heard by anyone other than Nairo. 

“I was not aware I had it dialled up,” Nairo said, trying to mimic Ridley's hunched shuffle.

“All the way up sister, and I haven’t been stabbed once this decade, let's try to keep it that way.”

“Can't imagine why anyone would want to stab you,” Nairo muttered. 

“What?”

“Oh look he's stopped.”

“Huh?”

“The Troll,” Nairo nodded her head towards the barn-sized back of the Troll. 

He had pulled up outside a dreary looking pub. It was one of those ancient watering holes that seemed to be swallowing itself. Its sagged visage all peels and cracks. The glass had an inch layer of grime and less desirable fluids, even the cobbles that paved the street outside the pub were infected by its cancerous age. The Troll squeezed in through the panelled door, the whole pub sagging inwards under his weight. Ridley gave a deep tired sigh.

“Should have had breakfast before I left the office,” he muttered to himself.

Nairo decided to take charge and walked off ahead of Ridley.

“Come on then, let’s get this done with.” 

Nairo walked up to the pub with Ridley hot on her heels, already shaking his head and muttering curses. The heavy atmosphere of the pub drowned them as soon as they stepped through the doors. So thick with bodily expulsions and smoke fumes that the cloud of noxious gas was almost physical. Ridley slowed down and ambled towards the battered beer drowned bar. The carpet was so wet it had become spongy, and made a sucking noise with every step. The inside of the pub somehow limboed beneath the already exceptionally low bar the outside and had set. Decay was apparent in not only the furniture but also the clientele. Each one had the sad droop of a person nursing a warm pint on a weekday afternoon, all knew better than to acknowledge each other, their eyes firmly lost in their foaming depression. This was one of those pubs where it was better not to know the local faces. Ridley slid on to a barstool with a practised hop and smartly rapped his knuckles on the bar top. Nairo sat beside him, trying her best to keep the dial low as possible. A little knee high Gnome with an apron waddled out from the back. He waved his hand and waddled his way up a step ladder to the bar.

“Ridley! Heard you was dead!”

“Hope you didn’t get too sad, Carl” Ridley said as he hunched his shoulders around a smoke.

“Sad? I was almost in tears,” Carl had an odd clacking way of talking like a puppet without a ventriloquist. “Size of your tab! I was gonna dig ya up and sell your bits till your debts paid.” There was not a hint of mirth on the Gnome’s little face as he said this. 

“This what you call hospitality then?” Ridley snapped. “Gimme a drink.”

“Not till you pay yer tab Ridley.” Carl narrowed his beady little black eyes at Ridley. 

“Alright alright you blood sucker,” Ridley reached into his pocket and pulled out a jingling bag of coins. Carl's eyes lit up, his fat little body jigged at the sound. Ridley didn’t either bother counting it, he slapped it down on the bar and grunted, “drink.” Carl hopped off the step ladder and busily began getting their glasses. 

“So what's got ya scent today Rid?” Carl asked with that voice bartender's perfected for small talk. 

“Missing persons,” Ridley responded, half paying attention as he watched the back door he knew the Troll had gone through. 

“Always turn up in the last place ya look,” Carl said matter of factly as he slammed two small glasses of poisonous looking green liquid in front of them. 

“Cant say I'm looking too hard,” Ridley said as he licked his lips and got ready to down the drink. 

There was a clatter and a crash of broken glass from behind them. Nairo flinched and spun round ready for danger. A Pixie stood there making apologetic noises as it tried to mop up spilled beer with its apron. 

“Bloody Pixie!” Carl snapped as he waved his hands in anger.

“Sorry sirs,” the Pixie whimpered, its eyes swam in to focus with an agitated twitch.

“Go help it!” Carl barked at another Pixie who had been happily polishing all the taps behind the bar. The Pixie floated slowly away at Carl's order, unhurried by the clamour. 

“Good help hard to find, eh Carl?” Ridley asked, as poured another drink while Carl was shouting at the Pixies.

“Ughhh, don’t! Would you believe all my regular Pixies have gone missing, think someone nicked ‘em!”

“Shocking,” Ridley muttered, barely paying attention. “Next thing you know you'll be having to nail down the coasters. Tell me Carl, that big ugly fella that stepped through the back there, anything I should know?”

“Other than to leave well alone.” Carl gave Ridley another beady eyed glare. 

“Let’s say it’s too late for that.”

“What yer wanna go rustle that bush for?” 

Ridley gave a shrug.

“Sometimes a bush needs rustling.”

“And you gotta be the one to rustle it.”

“Well it won't rustle itself.”

Nairo watched the back and forth, getting the distinct impression that this is what passed for witty repartee in the lower side of town. Carl flicked his little black button eyes to the door then leaned forward.

“Now mind, you didn’t hear it from me,” he said.

“Never do,” Ridley replied, drink paused on its way to his lips.

“He's one of Uncle Sam's goons,” Carl muttered, his lips set in a thin line of disapproval.

“And that bag he's holding, where’s that going?”

Carl licked his lips, his eyes flicking to the door leading to the back rooms. 

“Nasty one there Ridley. I’m warning ya…”

“Consider me warned,” Ridley said, waving Carl on. 

“He’s a new lad in the city, come over from the deserts,” Carl leaned forward and hissed. “A Minotaur.”

Ridley's eyes widened a touch at that and he exchanged a look with Nairo. 

“And this Minotaur…”

“Shh!” Carl hissed, looking around the room for anyone listening. 

“This Minotaur,” Ridley whispered. “Wouldn’t happen to know the whereabouts of a reptile with more than one garment of outer wear?” Ridley had leant forward to match Carl's conspiratorial manor.

“Who?”

Nairo had begun to fear that Ridley in fact was not an idiot savant, more of a run of the mill idiot.

“Benny Two Coats,” Nairo interjected.

“Oh, learn to talk right, Ridley.”

But Ridley was no longer listening, even though his eyes had not moved, his focus had turned to all around him. His ears pricked, his chin held low, as the buzz of conversation switched frequency, and this new station was far more menacing. He could practically hear the swivel of narrow, bloodshot eyes, hands and claws as they dropped beneath tables, glasses being emptied and gripped like rocks. There was a shift in the gradient behind, the soggy carpet squelched and conversation had all but stopped. Carl looked between the pair, his eyes slowly rolled up... and up till they hovered at least two feet above Ridley's head, his mouth flapped nervously. 

A fist and arm the size of a man’s leg slammed down on the bar between Nairo and Ridley. Nairo couldn't help but study the arm, it was a cement grey with muscles that looked like they had been carved from a particularly muscular rock. Even the knuckles were viscously horned and the badly healed scar tissue around them told Nairo they weren’t just there for vanity. 

“Not nice to go round talkin' behind a fella's back.”

[koiqiss]

Some Of The Most Vital Concepts About Lekdetectie

Generally, water leakage found in real estate flows undetected up until the time important deterioration comes up. Un-mended, water supply leaks could very well corrode the cause of the place, fracture coloring do the trick, compose hydrated areas and additionally damp aromas, strengthen could be expensive, set off structural ruin, and also be a catalyst for fungal success. Water leakage sensors techniques can easily specify these difficulties in advance of they'll induce very much harm, creating pricey improvements as well as misplaced home and property. Including conserve your funds down the road by means of discovering and also shutting off a person's water when it's running constantly, like in a drastically changed bathing room flapper and a hot water heater that will isn’t functioning properly.

Applying state-of-the-art good technique, acoustic guitar leak detection is capable of determine possibly the least of leaks on the inside of walls or maybe below solid pieces. It operates by nearby during the poll on the sound manufactured by getting away waters, which unfortunately looks like hissing and / or whooshing. This permits gurus in order to simply track down dealing with connected with a leak, salvaging valuable time coupled with staying away from extravagant excavation coupled with substitution charges.

Along with it's used house applications, ultriceslekdetectie the particular water leakage solution can are a factor in useful upkeep of old age the water service systems and even safe and do not everyday life when you're utilised in numerous configuration settings which includes money variety items, ethnic national infrastructure facilities, coupled with desalination plant life. This allows to the more sound use of important water tools, which have been getting increasingly limited in several fields of the globe.

Often the water leakage service works by using at home created rumbling sensing unit airport terminals that should be placed on the actual top of the development, enabling the healthiness of tubes to end up being tracked remotely, repairing patrol bank checks by individuals have got until now worked usually. When you use low-power engineering help an assortment company use of five years, plus ultra-sensitive sensors that could possibly notice including least leakage, an expensive recognition accurate is without question produced. People who wish to know lekdetectiebedrijf , they will visit here.

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Simply by protecting against destroy in advance of it happens, it's possible to prevent dear correct charges, harmed property in addition to got rid of earnings. The bottom line is to acknowledge your warning signs, just like an unusual soak proper a person's roof structure or ground, intense embrace an individual's water supply charge, maybe a fusty notice near to a good pipe. If you find any of these, get in touch with regards to leak detection combined with plumbers. Better could be to click this link or even visit many of our endorsed how does a person are familiar with lekdetectie.

Ultrices Leak Detection are generally advisors inside leak detection To they understand the effect which leaks could have on your own place, wellness mineral water monthly dues, including likely causing a deluge deterioration and also restore price ranges. Each attempts are applied with only a fixed price there work just like surcharges soon after. The work they do is invariably effective and every one ruin will be acessed in detail right before the service performs start up. They're just incredibly pro not to mention hospitable ; An excellent opportunity these folks strongly!

[ramblesinshamblesgreenbus]

i was crying and my mother was washing the dishes, and it hit me then, how for a moment in time we had reduced ourselves to our very being's most basic stereotypes - the homemaker is cleaning, the child is crying.

how beautiful, though, to feel the endless ramifications of what we both actually are, what we're both actually doing. i love crying with my mum there - i can feel it, she's one of the very few people who'll always treasure my vulnerability, who'll regard me as one of those fawns making helpless little yelps, before invariably getting up and starting to prance around moments later.

it feels good to stop acting strong - to admit that yeah, i am too soft for that. yeah, i have had enough. yeah, i don't feel like building myself up stronger and sturdier just because i know people's attacks will get more and more vicious. a king wanting the castle walls fortified, and thus hitting it with cannonballs at every chance and scrunching up his nose when everything goes to shit. although it's too generous an analogy - the king plans on fleeing the castle anyway, he just thinks his royal subjects shouldn't waste their time when they could be rebuilding from the perpetual rubble.

i always looked forward to me making this decision, always thought i was going to be disappointed in myself, but it's odd how the actual feeling resembles pride. i'm not invincible, i'm not omnipotent, i'm not able to be there through thick and thin - and somehow, that's okay. sometimes to run is the best thing. maybe i should take that literally, but the weather is dreadful and i don't plan on getting out of my jammies anytime soon. maybe this love's dead and buried, but life is very much still going, and life will give birth to another love and that other love will rebirth me (like a phoenix ha). and i'll be as apparently stupid and gullible and fragile and easy to demolish as i was now, and i'll regret it then, but not in retrospect. there's nothing wrong with the way i love and there's nothing wrong with realising some people have gotten enough of it. i'm excited for the future, i'm ecstatic to be back home, i'm happier than ever to hear water coming out of the faucet as tears are staining my cheeks, trails hardening on my chin. what a joy it is, to feel everything so deeply.

[writer59january13]

I cannot single handedly – rightly so - manage...

primary idiopathic palmar/ palmoplantar hyperhidrosis despite taking Glycopyrrolate 2 MG Tablet three times daily.

Aforementioned physiological malady the bane worse than death unwanted and unwonted figurative (metaphorical) beast of burden linkedin with matrix constituting mine corporeal essence genetically gifted to yours truly, invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably afflicts, impacts, and upsets emotional (mental) health diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder and aggravated, jump/kickstarted, triggered...,

when body electric

of mine experiences duress.

Tis no fun unable to join in any reindeer games (actually quite aggravating) to experience chronic instances, whereby profuse sweat drips (think rivaling Angel Falls), the loftiest falls on land inducing extreme self consciousness and embarrassment. Socialization compromised, jeopardized, and sabotaged against natural proclivity to fraternize, thus avoidance behavior (i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet (about 2 arm's length) from other people.

I vaguely recollect even while in utero sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid yet subsequently observing consternation obstetrician displayed as itty bitty teensy weensy fingers dripped - think faucet turned on full force.

Mein kampf (predominantly describes solitary existence) severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined courtesy deux part and parcel significant aforestated physiological and social congenital afflictions somewhat ameliorated by about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed within our single bedroom apartment (we lucked out with unit B44 providing us scenic view) climate controlled when weather hazy, hot and humid at sixty degrees Fahrenheit (you do the math to figure the Centigrade temperature), nevertheless these stubby five fingered appendages ooze perspiration on par with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me suffering one or more dogged following plagues: water turning to blood, frogs, lice, flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail, locusts, darkness and killing of firstborn children far less oppressive versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis. Sain above identified unpleasant fallout understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably linkedin within every fiber moost likely activated since conception - mine body electric infiltrated nerve wracking complex corporeal edifice interestingly enough solely overbearing while yours truly wide awake bright tailed and bushy eyed, yet sleep ofttimes brings severely dislocating, disquieting and discombobulating subconscious nocturnal experiences, which frightful, maniacal, and phantasmagorical vivid dreams undermines, oppresses, and impinges, any joie de vivre creating abominable hell on Earth thus this dirt poor commoner pronouncing his intent to beg, borrow and/or steal (sell my soul to the devil) in a desperate effort to secure and pay King's ransom to rid myself once and for all of parasite entrenched nemesis bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking writer christened Matthew Scott Harris, whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.

[willisbrooks46]

Tips to Find Affordable, Yet Reliable Local Plumbers Near You

Local plumbers and drain services are a necessity whose worth is understood only when the need arises out of the blue like draining a bathtub or when installing the best salt water softener. Like a clogged bathtub drain, while we choose to ignore things, they simply build up to the point where things just come apart and become visible. What is called for is a friendly 24-hour emergency sewer and drain cleaning service that stands by you when you are most in trouble and need their services.

Today we tell you a few tips to find affordable and reliable same-day plumber services near you.

Yellow pages listing

Most cities have a dedicated yellow pages that have detailed listing of everything from a pin to a plane. That being so, it is rather obvious that there would be details of known 24 hour emergency sewer and drain cleaning services who do other things including the maintenance of water softeners, draining bathtubs and unclogging bathtubs. Most places have a fairly efficient listing in terms of who does what and to what extent. Using this can be an effective means of getting across to the right same-day plumber.

     2. Google near-me searches or hyper-local searches

As of now there’s just one search engine the world knows and recognized. Google. And among the most used service of Google anywhere in the world are “near me” hyper-local searches which helps local business list themselves to get visibility in the local area. If your yellow pages just don’t seem to suffice (there’s always a lag between their getting printed and newer entrants entering the market), it makes sense to visit Google for a rightful “near me” search of same-day plumbers near me.

    3. Municipal listing

If you think either of the two won’t get you the desired information, try municipal directories in your local county office. They will have a list of emergency plumbing services licensed and registered with them. The added advantage of approaching the local county office is that you would get details of ONLY registered emergency plumbers whereas the other listings give details of everyone who is a plumber, irrespective of types and certifications.

    4. A visit to the hardware stores close by

Another good and productive way to find details of the best plumber in your locality would be to approach the hardware store of most repute in your area. They invariably have details of plumbers they work with given that you never give out home-related hardware stuff like pots, basins, faucets etc without the added assistance of a seasoned plumber. Yes, the US of A does believe in DYI but then there are those either short on time or experience who would much rather employ the services of a seasoned plumber.

   5. Ask a neighbor

One way of getting to the best plumber in your neighborhood, and which is used invariably by everyone everywhere on the planet is asking your neighbors for details. There isn’t anyone on the planet who hasn’t been troubled by issues of maintenance of water softener, putting up the best salt water softener, draining bathtubs, tub draining, unclogging clogged bath tub drain. And the only and best solution is the ubiquitous plumber who people do remember after a brush with near disaster! Asking your neighbor for the same is sure to elicit the right response in most cases.

   6. Your empaneled plumber

Those living in enclosed societies have the luxury of having in-house plumbers who are available 24 x 7. The only thing that you need to do to get to an emergency plumber is to call the designated phone number which in most cases is of the society administration.

    7. Local business listings

There isn’t a locality in most places in the US which doesn’t have its own local listing newspaper that contain complete details of businesses in the locality- including details of 24-hour emergency plumbing agencies. All it takes is a single edition of the newspaper, old or new, to get to the right local plumber in times of need.

[timeofcrypto]

How to Earn Free Ethereum | Times of Crypto

Numerous tend to associate Ethereum with Bitcoin, as well as some people interchangeably use the terms Ethereum, bitcoin, and blockchain. Vitalik Butyrin is a Russian Canadian programmer as well as cryptocurrency experimenter who constructed Ethereum in 2013 and saw it go live in 2015. The most introductory and straightforward explanation of Ethereum is divided into two corridor software and platform.

What distinguishes Ethereum from other software platforms is that it's blockchain- grounded. Blockchain refers to a record of data stored on computer networks. The blockchain is distinguished by three pillars decentralisation, translucency, and invariability. Cryptopneurs join this network for both professional and particular reasons.

Other reasons to not just earn free Ethereum but also learn How to Earn Free Ethereum, away from particular and business use, include the following

You can make a commitment to smart contracts that are extremely safe and auditable.

Short selling advantages make it possible to vend indeed when the request is down.

Because the influence periphery in Ethereum trading is high, the gains from trades are also high.

Ethereum, like Bitcoin, has enormous implicit. With all of the scalabilities, maybe everyone will ultimately see how doable the Ethereum network is getting. For illustration, just three times agone , the value was 160 bones , and now it's nearly 190.

Legal Ways to Earn Free Ethereum

People can decide whether or not to invest in coins in the Crypto space, and they can also make plutocrat fromit.However, also these are our top picks, If you are looking for simple yet legal ways to earn free Ethereum without putting your life in peril.

Ethereum gates

An Ethereum gate is a website or app that allows you to register a portmanteau address, break a captcha, and be awarded. Free- Ethereum io is an illustration of a programme where you can make a decent quantum of plutocrat in a matter of hours. These websites take advantage of the occasion to increase business and gains. Ethereum gates generally gain a lot of attention, allowing them to announce for larger companies. It's also a way to spread the word about similar businesses, as well as Ethereum in general.

In short, they're awarded for the tasks you perform for them. piecemeal from free- Ethereum- io, then are some other popular Ethereum gates

Ethereum Faucet

Allcoins

Faucet Run

Free Ethereum Spinner

Speedup Faucet

Although it isn't always enough to make a good profit, Ethereum gates are a safe way to learn how to trade without threat.

Ethereum Mining

When it comes to mining, Ethereum is the most important as well as profitable coin. When the blockchain was launched in 2016, booby-trapping Ethereum came available. moment, crypto mining has seen a significant rejuvenescence, thanks in large part to Ethereum. So, you can mine free Ethereum using a PC, a portmanteau, and software.

Mining is the fashion carried out by miners( blockchain actors) that involves fact- checking network deals. The first miner to successfully complete a new block's check earns free coins. The only difference is that mining computations are complex and massive, challenging the use of a computer. These figures are answered by the machine as hashes.

Ethereum Airdrops

An airdrop is a blockchain design designed to distribute free commemoratives. still, why do blockchain systems distribute free cryptocurrencies? It appears that the thing is to make a community of dedication whilst also satisfying stoner fidelity. The first is when druggies hold the cryptocurrency at a single point in time. They take a shot of the entire blockchain( tally) to determine who's holding and distribute a commensurate quantum of crypto in comparison to what they hold.

The alternate type of airdrop is used to replace original coin immolations( ICOs). Google and Facebook banned cryptocurrency advertisements, particularly original Coin Immolations, in 2017.( ICOs). After a time, the ban was lifted for only the United States and Japan.

Ethereum Buy and vend

Buying and dealing Ethereum also entails trading the digital asset. When the request is in your favour, you can buy ether and vend it for a advanced price. There's little distinction between trading ETH as well as other cryptocurrencies. To trade, you must have coins, a portmanteau, and a platform.

Open an account and portmanteau on a cryptocurrency trading website. Purchase ether from any estimable dealer. Platforms generally cover both the buyer and dealer to insure that no bone is taken advantage of in the sale. Following the purchase, you may want to keep the coins in your portmanteau for a period of time to allow the value torise. However, you can vend your ether to another stoner, If the set rate is respectable.

Interest Accounts( Staking and Lending)

The cost of adopting commodity, in this case ether, is appertained to as interest. You can convert your portfolio to an interest account if you formerly trade. Staking and advancing is a more formal term for it. The crypto trading company with which you have an account can adopt from you and repay the loan with advanced earning interest. You must be a stoner of the platform to which you're advancing. likewise, you must have a substantial quantum in your account tostake. However, you can request that some of your ether be deposited into the company's account, If you have both.

Crypto Bounties

This system How to Earn Free Ethereum is named after Wild West bounties and encourages crypto community members to complete colorful tasks. Following completion of the designated tasks, commemoratives are awarded. Anyone can share in bounty programmes to earn free Ethereum. Actors help organisations with colorful marketing tasks. This is generally done previous to the end of the token trade.

Referral and chapter Commissions

You can earn free Ethereum by pertaining people to cryptocurrency websites if you are good at persuasion. Links are used by referral programmes to reach out to new members. You get a chance of what your musketeers and family trade on these spots. principally, you invite people by using a referral link, and when they register and begin trading on the point, a chance of their earnings are deposited into your account. The conditions differ between crypto trading platforms.

[ramp-it-up]

Make it Hot

Day 16 of #RampitUp1Kinktober

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: Johnny just wants to make it up to you.

1Kinktober Kink: Face Riding

Word Count 1K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Fuckboi ways, bratty attitude if you squint, oral (f receiving), squirting, creampie. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

A/N: Im so tired y’all 😩. And this is maaad late, but it’s still the 16th somewhere in my country, lol. This is for the 16th day of #rampitup1Kinktober! TYSM for following me! 🧡

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Let me make it up to you, Sweetheart.”

It always started like this.

Johnny’s fuckboy ways pissed you off and he would get you hot to distract you.

It was your toxic way of life being Johnny’s girl. At least it wasn’t boring.

You had blocked him and it had taken him a day and half to notice. He’d melted the lock on your front door to get to you.

You were in bed and about to cuss him out when he stopped you.

“Don’t even pretend. I know you want my attention. Well, you’ve got it now.”

Johnny pulled back the covers, regarding your panty clad body. You didn’t sleep in anything else because you’d invariably get hot.

One way or another.

He waited for that look to cross your face and then disintegrated your panties, heating your pussy up for him.

This is what you wanted. It had been three days since he'd given you dick and he was liking IG models’ booty pics. It wasn’t until you blocked him and posted your own that he came over.

Johnny shook his head at you.

“You know better than to advertise what is mine to the world, Sweetheart.”

He lifted your leg up on his shoulder and started to kiss your foot. Soft kisses and tongue trailed down your leg to your inner thigh.

“But I get it, I’ve been neglecting you.”

He must have been using his power to heat his kisses, because your leg and your soul were on fire.

Johnny ran his nose along your slit and inhaled, smiling as he lay flat on the bed, naked body indenting the mattress, as if etching his form into the bed. He was heating up. You whimpered in anticipation.

You were so wet, your juices were coating his lips as he licked you hungirly.

“So sweet. I want you to sit on my face.”

He lay down with his head beside your stomach, one hand reaching over lightly, hotly, tracing your belly button, while the other started stroking himself off. You swore you saw steam coming off him.

You get up on all fours and swing your leg over his head, kneeling above him. You felt the heat rising as his fingers parted your lower lips and slowly rub your already hardened nub with your wetness.

“Yes, I love this shit,” murmured Johnny, as your thighs started to shake already. “I’m about to eat this pretty little pussy like it’s my last meal, sweetheart.”

His hot hands grabbed each asscheek and pulls you down onto his face, burying his face in your cunt, motor boating and licking your wet cunt with his hot tongue (you’re sure of it now) until you are moaning loudly and beginning to try to lift off his face.

Johnny forcefully pulled you back down, saying something that must be “Sit here and take it,” into your pussy. All you experienced were the vibrations of the words on your sensitive clit.

“Johnny, please, oh my god, oh god!”

Your voice was broken as you begged him to stop. You started convulsing as you came in his mouth, your juices spilling out like a faucet.

When you were done, he pulled you back on his chest, propped his head up on the pillow and looked down at your wet mess of a pussy, trapping you there with his hands on your thighs.

His long fingers were still exploring your sensitive areas, and it was almost too much to handle.

“Johnny, please. I can’t take it baby. Please.”

Those fire blue eyes looked up at you.

“Oh, sweetheart. We’re just getting started. You’re going to be sore in the morning.”

His hoarse whisper made you clench and he felt it. He grinned that grin at you and pushed the fingers of one hand deeper into you while rubbing your clit with the other thumb.

“You’re so fucking nasty, Johnny. I love it”

You were sliding over his pecs now, the hair on his chest adding to the friction his hands were giving you.

He rubbed your clit faster, flicking his thumb over it back and forth until you were crying out, shaking and moaning.

He swiftly pulled you back over his mouth and plunged his hot, thick, wide tongue inside you to incite another orgasm, which happened quickly. You slumped over him onto the bed and he slid out from under you like a mechanic.

You were on all fours again, head on the bed and legs drawn under you. He pulled your legs apart and there appeared that perfect arch.

“Sweetheart. For me? You shouldn’t have.”

Johnny swiped his hard, leaking cock up and down your folds, sparking your over sensitive clit. You were exhausted, but you needed it to make your night complete. You arched even more.

“Yessssss. Let me get that shit.”

Johnny pressed his hot palm on the small of your back and held his dick straight as he slid inside you. You were so wet that it happened easily, but not without an incredible stretch that felt full and warm and good.

Once he was balls deep, he let you adjust and started stroking, warming up incrementally until your walls pulsed around him. At this point, his hips were snapping his cock into you hard and you could feel hot spurts of precum as he got impossibly harder and started moaning.

“Pussy so good. Gets me going. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Give it to me Johnny!” You were gasping for breath.

“Shit shit, fuck, oh my god!”

Suddenly, you felt his hot cum wash over your walls which triggered your third orgasm.

Johnny grunted his release and rolled off of you as you collapsed flat on the bed, his hot spend seeping out of you.

You smiled over at the sight of actual steam wafting from him.

He smiled back at you as he got up and moved toward the bathroom.

“Wanna take a cold shower with me?”

You couldn’t resist that smile, or the invitation.

After all, you knew Johnny would make it hot.

I know this is just PWP. But give it to me. I can take it.

Tags:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @chattykathysquietsister @nikole-witha-k @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @donutloverxo @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @ximaginexx @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @iconicshit @maroonsunrise83 @partypoison00 @curlyhairclub @denisemarieangelina @harrysthiccthighss @simpinforu @sunshinexsin @celestialbeingz @the-1900 @geminixevans @fanfictionwr1tin @breezykpop @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @peaceinourtime82 @hisgirlfriday439 @nik2write @deepintothenature @jassiejj2118

[salesinc44-blog]

Strategies for Signing an Apartment Lease

Lease-ups

This may be the 1st or twelfth apartment lease you're just about to sign when you affix your name to the lease, have you any idea what's in that lease?

A condo lease is a legal document that could protect you together with the owner from a great deal of conflict-related grief - if you prepare before signing the lease.

apartment lease help

The Cardinal Rule

A cardinal rule in apartment lease signing is that this: see the lease carefully prior to signing it. Even if your apartment-leasing market is red hot, don't rush to sign a lease if something doesn't feel right.

Reading the lease document means reading the agreement, too. Consider owning an attorney, friend, or member of the family assess the document at the same time.

One resource to assist you evaluate whether something inside the lease might violate your tenant rights is located in the Department of Housing and concrete Development's website (hud.gov and search under Tenant Rights). This web site provides a state-by-state list of tenant rights.

What's in Those Clauses?

As well as reading the regular and details in it, settled to what's in the clauses of your respective rental agreement. Consider some possible inclusions:

• Electrical for, or dependence on landlord/manager notification in case you host guests who stay for two or more days. • Sublet terms. • A statement you are in charge of cost of repairs. • Relation to its exiting a lease in advance of term. • Terms to have an automatic lease renewal.

Obtain it written

When evaluating a condo lease, keep to the dictum, "Get it in some recoverable format." For instance, in the event the landlord has promised that a repair will be done before (or soon after) you move in, have it written.

Your lease should spell out clearly:

• All required deposits/fees. • Rent amount and due date. • Penalty terms for overtime. • Expenses which are taught in landlord (utilities, HOA fees, etc.). • Customization (paint, hanging pictures, etc.). • Pet policy (and any pet deposit or additional cost to monthly rent).

Before signing...

Despite the excitement of, "You've got the apartment!" there still are some things to usually prior to signing that lease.

First, perhaps you have asked and received acceptable strategies to your questions? When you notice something vague or missing from the lease, take note of it and request for an updated version.

Next, walk through the apartment once more and pay attention to small details. Examine the apartment for damage and take photos of everything else you notice. Report it, on paper along with pictorial documentation, on your landlord or property manager. You ought not end up paying for existing damages or any repairs linked to them.

As you do your walk-through, be sure to turn all faucets on / off, flush stained(s), and look that every electrical outlets work. Is it possible to safely and simply open all doors, drawers, cabinets, and windows? Perhaps there is an embarrassing odor? These things may seem silly, but troubles are not invariably obvious towards the eye, ear, or nose.

When you should Disappear

Your comfort, safety, and happiness are essential and despite great efforts, you may arrive at the final outcome how the apartment you are pretty much to lease may not be the best choice in the end.

You may find contractual surprises included in your lease that were not mentioned during negotiations. Perhaps your walk-through triggered a feeling that something is "not quite right" in regards to the apartment, building, neighborhood, or maybe the landlord. And quite often a greater offer appears and you feel you have to get it.

At such times, the most likely course of action may be to graciously thank your prospective landlord and disappear prior to signing the lease.

[r6shippingdelivery]

I was asked by the lovely @icezero09 if I could do some domestic DocLion headcanons, and I was instantly enthralled by the idea! So for this, let’s assume they’re living together 😉

Under the cut cause it got longer than expected

- If they can, they go grocery shopping together. Doc likes to keep an eye on his partner, since Lion is the type to end up buying a lot more stuff than he actually needs.

- When it comes to cooking, neither of them is a great chef, but both know how to keep themselves fed. However, Lion enjoys Doc’s family recipes more than his own (very basic) cooking, so usually when they cook together, Doc does the proper cooking and Lion acts as a helper. Or as a  distraction, ifyouknowwhatImean

- When one of them had a bad day, both try in their own way to lift the other’s spirit. Doc will wordlessly take over some of Lion’s duties, be it help with paperwork, wash the dishes, or anything that needs doing. This way he gives Lion some time for himself and to cool down before spending time together. Lion gets especially quarrelsome when he’s cranky. If Doc had a bad day, Lion will be there to soothe him: a bubble bath, or making his favorite dessert, or a massage, or whatever little indulgences that will put a smile on Doc’s face.

- Their sleep habits are a bit chaotic. Doc often stays up until really late doing work, and Lion hates being alone on their big bed. So nowadays he’ll just grab a book and go to Doc’s office, settle on the couch and read until Doc’s done. Doc appreciates the company, and when Lion eventually falls asleep on the couch, that’s usually when Doc realises how late it truly is. Sometimes, Lion will insist that enough is enough and will drag Doc back home, and he won’t accept a “no” for an answer. Doc will agree that sleeping with Lion curled on his side is much more enjoyable in their bed than on the couch.

- Their morning routine consists of waking up way too early for how late they went to sleep. After turning off the alarm, Doc instantly will get up from bed, more zombie than a person, while Lion asks for five more minutes and burrows between the sheets. Once Doc has showered and changed, he’ll go back to yank the covers away from Lion, since it’s the only way he’ll get up. Then Doc goes in search of a cup of sweet caffeine, his lifeblood, while Lion gets ready for the day. Then they have breakfast together.

However, on their free days, there’s a lot more sleeping in, and lazing in bed, and showering together. The main reason they don’t share the shower during work days is because usually those showers end up being a lot longer than planned, and rushed shower sex is always a potential hazard.

- Whenever there’s a leaky faucet, or a broken piece of furniture, or any other household problem, Doc’s answer is always to call a professional. On the other hand, Lion is stubborn enough to think he can fix anything, especially since they keep forgetting to call anyone to deal with the problem. And so Lion tries, but the results so far were questionable. Doc heaved a sigh of relief when Lion started asking Kapkan for advice; if he insisted on fixing stuff by himself, at least now he would have a better idea of what he was doing.

- Lion knows Doc isn’t very keen on listening to metal music, but he admitted there are a couple of songs he likes, mostly ballads. Lion is trying to learn how to play those, practicing with his old electric guitar when Doc isn’t home. It’s a slow process, but he really wants to be able to play them flawlessly for Doc.

- Lion likes cats, Doc not so much. Okay, the real reason he doesn’t want a pet is that they leave fur everywhere, and it’s not very hygienic for a doctor to have cat or dog fur all over his clothes. Lion reluctantly agrees with him, especially since they aren’t at home that often and thus wouldn’t be able to properly take care of a pet. At least for now.

- Doc loves scented candles: they’re decorative, smell nice, and can help set an intimate mood. Or just a comfortable one. Lion teases him for his love of candles, but also brings him new ones whenever he sees one that he thinks Doc might like.

- They often argue about the laundry, since Doc is an extremely orderly person, and Lion is the kind to leave his clothes on a chair or the couch since he can wear that for yet another day. Or he carelessly chucks his socks on the laundry basket but one lands on the floor instead and he doesn’t even notice.

- Whenever one of them gets sick, the other will invariably act like a fussy mother hen/nurse. Hilariously, both are terrible patients, intent on keeping working despite everything and thinking they know better. Therefore, they spend most of the time arguing, but that’s good because it means the illness isn’t serious. The only time Doc got really worried was that time Lion came back from setting up a quarantine and shortly after became severely sick. It turned out he only had the flu, but the fever was so high that he didn’t protest or argue not even once for three whole days.

- Doc thought meeting Lion’s ex and his child was peak awkward, but meeting Lion’s parents was way worse. They were all charm and smiles until the issue of religion surfaced, and once they learnt Doc wasn’t catholic, their smiles were less charming and more stiff and fake. Besides, he didn’t like one bit how they casually made some belittling comments about Lion’s achievements, both as a person and as a CBRN specialist. And once he learnt they kicked Lion on the street when he was barely eighteen, Doc decided they won’t be seeing them much. Lion’s sister is fine though, she was rather quiet but still pleasant. 

[stylecraze2]

How to make small eyes bigger

Eyes that area unit larger sometimes seem to create you look younger and awake.

All eye shapes area unit lovely, don’t get Maine wrong! I even have little almond formed eyes myself which i don’t need to toot my terribly own horn, however quite few folks have complimented Maine for them! Not all of us have massive eyes. However, we'll invariably produce associate illusion by exploitation clever make-up techniques

Here we'll take you through some straightforward tips and tricks that helps build your eyes look larger.

How To build little Eyes Look Bigger?

1. Praise Those Eyebrows

The brows build all the distinction. Take a visit to the salon at frequent intervals, and keep the brows in fine condition . Follow the form of your eyes.

For those who need to remain their brows daring, bear in mind that you {simply|that you just} simply have to be compelled to maximize the house you have so as that it creates associate illusion of larger wanting eyes. Bold, thick, and pleasant brows bring attention to the eyes. The distinction between natural brows and over-tweezed arches is that the natural makes one look additional innocent, whereas the latter causes you to look older.

Pro Tip: to urge those full and communicative  brows, brush them up with clear brow makeup.

2. Say adios To lump

The key to beautiful eyes is by pampering them right, every day. The swollen skin around the eyes will build them look little. Here is however you'll be able to scale back lump round the eyes.

>get enough sleep

>Wash your face with cold water typically

>Place used cold teabags over the eyes as a result of the tannins gift in tea tighten the skin

>Reduce salt intake

>Exercise

3. Say No To underneath Eye Dark Circles

Using a concealer to cover up the dark circles will not build your eyes look larger, however a minimum of , the dark circles will not draw attention to them once somebody is gazing your eyes. So, this step is de facto vital.

Color correct your blemishes associated dark circles with an illuminating concealer. make sure you use a shade slightly lighter than your foundation to elevate and enhance your look. we tend to suggest the sunshine and creamy YSL Touche Eclat and sleek mack professional Longwear Concealer, that is to boot a wonderful hiding for spots.

4. lightweight Neutral coloured Eye Shadow

Use neutral and light-weight eyeshadows. Follow the rule of contouring. lightweight colours for the areas that you {simply|that you just} simply need the sunshine to replicate and darker shades for the areas you'd wish to ward off . exploitation lightweight colours at the center of the eyelids brings them forward. develop some product on a brush, faucet the surplus off and gently apply at the middle of the eyelids.

Pro Tip: The shadow area unit typically bright or of matte finish; it doesn’t matter as long as a result of it's lightweight in color.

5. Tightline The higher Water Line

This is the step that creates a great deal of distinction. Use a black liner to tightline the higher water line. this provides the appearance of fuller lashes and helps to open up the eyes. i prefer to use the 24/7 Glide-On Eye Pencil by Urban Decay. The formula is superb and it offers your eyelashes volume while not doing much!

6. Lay Low With The makeup

When exploitation liner on the lower lashline, tell solely apply it to the outer third. Use a smudger or a brush to melt it out. As for the lid, draw a line as shut as you'll be able to to the lashes. you'll be able to produce alittle flick and step by step build it thicker at the highest if you'd wish to.

7. Curly, Fluttery Eyelashes

An hair hair curler is to girls what a sports automotive is to men. For those massive eyes, ensure that you just totally cup the lashes inside the hair curler nearer to the roots. Our favorites area unit E.L.F. Studio hair hair curler and Sally Hansen La Cross Double Curl hair hair curler.

8. The Nude impact

Most people assume that the due to achieving massive eyes is by loading informed black kohls or kajals. However, this is often entirely the alternative. The dark black kajal truly makes the eyes seem smaller and boxed in. Considering the Indian skin-tone, a white eye pencil won't be the foremost adulatory one to use. The trick here is to travel nude on your lower lash line. attempt Bourjois Khol and Contour makeup Pencil- 08 Rose Fantaisiste, or mack Chromagraphic Pencil.

9. O’ Holy makeup

The magic wand for makeup, associate honest makeup will build your eyes look larger and thicker in no time. we propose Clinique’s High Impact makeup, and Maybelline nice Lash makeup for that oomph issue. For those battable lashes and additional glam, attempt applying 3 to four coats on the outer corners of the eye to form doe formed eyes.

10. Contour The Crease

Contouring the crease helps in making the illusion of deeper set eyes, that in turn , build them seem larger. Use a matte brown shade from the outer corner to the crease and mix well. once you’re going for associate intense makeup look, you may contour slightly higher than your actual crease. cowl from the Naked Basics a pair of palette by Urban Decay is also a decent shade for contouring.

11. Shimmer within the Inner Corner

Use a highlighter or a bright lightweight makeup inside the inner corner. This adds slightly one thing further to your makeup look, and conjointly helps you look awake. you'll be able to opt for 2 ways in which of applying this.

You can mix it out and provides it a really shininess look. This causes you to look recent {in a|during a|in an exceedingly|in a terribly} very natural means.

Perhaps you’re trying to find one thing additional. Then, therein case, don’t mix it out. Doing this makes your eyes sparkle and may be a straightforward due to compensate once you haven’t done a lot of eye makeup.

Some additional Tips to create Your Eyes Look larger

>Try and avoid dark colours like blacks and grays.

>However, you may use soft browns for the crease.

>Don’t overload on the war paint. This solely makes the eyes look smaller.

>Full lashes facilitate to open up the eyes a lot of thus use the make-up.

>You can additionally like better to apply false lashes.

>Use eye masks and gently massage the areas round the eyes to urge eliminate the swelling and water retention.

>If you've got red eyes or if they're irritated, use eye drops. The redness will really create them look smaller, and it isn’t healthy to go away them wanting thus red!

Well, there you've got it. eleven ways that to create your eyes look brighter and larger. I definitely recognize for a indisputable fact that this works. If I desire I look exhausted(which I do on most days currently of late), I follow these steps. strive it out and allow us to knowledge it clad for you.

[kitchenrenovations3]

Your kitchen's Renovations - 10 Tips You Need to Know Before commencing

kitchen renovations campbelltown

Kitchen Renovation invariably is an exciting, creative mission, and you can create ones dream kitchen. Nonetheless where do you beginning? There is a bewildering variety of choices available : from faucets so that you can flooring, kitchen units and countertops, devices, lighting - you may have unlimited options available, your are really limited just by your budget. Nonetheless, kitchen renovation can be described as big job, in addition to mistakes are not sole costly, they are frustrating. Here are 10 recommendations you need to know before you start ones own kitchen renovation.

kitchen renovations Australia

The initial of the 10 suggestions you need to know before you start a kitchen renovation, is usually decide on a expense plan and stick to it. Whenever you start going through catalogs and catalogues, along with visiting stores you might be sorely enticed, so you might want to put a little leeway straight into your budget, but except in cases where the sky may be the limit, give your allowance a limit together with stick to it, or a person's kitchen renovation could drain your cash supplies far more quickly compared to you could ever have got anticipated.

The second rule may seem obvious, you would be surprised the number of people skip the application and launch appropriate in, to their detriment later on. It's uncomplicated, plan, plan and additionally plan. You have your financial allowance, now look at ones kitchen, the space available to you, how often buy your kitchen in addition to think about what you want to attain with your kitchen repair. Do you use ones own kitchen as a living room area, for snacks along with breakfast? Then you may prefer to include entertainment selections such as a wall-mounted tv, and a sound system within your kitchen renovation ideas.

The third tip you have to know before you start your your kitchen renovation is a good a - heed this. Kitchen cabinets commonly account for about half the money necessary for the budget for the average kitchen restoration. Decide early what you need, how much you want to shell out, and then plan all over that. It's sensible not to skimp concerning quality when it comes to kitchen area cabinets - fairly go for the best you'll be able to afford.

The suit tip you need to know before commencing your kitchen overhaul is not that obvious eventually - pay attention to your flooring. Just because it's just a kitchen, does not suggest that the floors are ugly. There are many superb options available - basically make sure you look for strength, along with looks.

Your fifth tip you need to understand before you start is to make a decision early on what kind of your look do you want for ones kitchen, and follow it, or you will end up using a mish-mash design. Should you not are going for an eclectic look, you would be more desirable off sticking to a layout, so all the parts blend together flawlessly.

The sixth idea you need to know before you start a renovation is to follow-on from the last word of advice. Make sure your your kitchen's design is beautiful, and fits around with the rest of your house. You may want to redecorate others in the industry of your home long before you aquire around to remodeling your kitchen just as before, so make sure you might live with the house design you choose.

A seventh tip to consider before you start your your kitchen renovation is this lighting has accumulated prominence in present day kitchens. The outdated fluorescent bulb don't just looks unattractive, the idea gobbles electricity. Where by possible consider the using LED's and split kitchen lighting. Lighting fixtures can be expensive, so it is something you need to consider early in your intending stages.

The 8th tip is important -- if you are going to purchase a contractor, choose intelligently. Look for someone dependable, and don't hesitate to test up on references : many people have had horrendous experiences with skilled tradesmen who didn't undertake what they provides, or disappeared halfway through the kitchen remodelling.

The ninth trick you need to know before you start a person's kitchen renovation is actually that there is a lot of kitchen area design software which you can make use of when you are considering your kitchen. Do not grab the first choice - look at critical reviews, so you can find something will work for you.

That tenth tip you should know before you start your your kitchen's renovation is bear in mind your existing house, how big it is, together with what shape it happens to be - if you are upgrading your kitchen, an individual going to alter basic principles - so seek advise from what you have.

[leiascully]

Fic:  Lost Time

3000 words | pg | msr | no content warnings unless you hate foot massages  |  minor spoilers for various episodes | set in unspecified season 7

This is an expanded version of the story I wrote for the second Fic is Medicine prompt at @xfficchallenges.  Thanks to @mashnotesofthemythopoeic for the encouragement.  

There are times she wishes she could go back to Oregon, back to twenty-four-year-old Dana Scully with her hands braced on her hips like punctuation, her ponytail curling against the back of her neck in humid wisps.  Time is a universal invariant.  She would shake herself until her smug little teeth rattled like improbable dice.  Not in this zip code or any other, little agent.  

Time passes differently in airports.  Most of all it reminds her of the giant plastic funnel in the mall with its bold sign proclaiming THE COIN VORTEX in unbalanced serifs.  She and Charlie would run to roll pennies down its calibrated ramps.  Seconds skirl past as she sits by the luggage retrieval, chasing each other around and around the flue of her mind with leisurely gravity before dropping inexorably into some undiscovered well in her soul.  It's like she can feel the chink of each one as it impacts, individual moments sliding across the accumulated heap.  Clink.  Clink.  Clink.  In the background, the poorly maintained conveyor belt heaves and creaks under the weight of other people's luggage.  

She sits next to her tidy little bag and watches families haul past suitcases crammed with Disney merchandise and beach souvenirs.  The nametag from the conference at which she was speaking is still in her jacket pocket.  She pulls it out and gnaws at the tip of her finger with the alligator teeth of the clip.  

Mulder is late.  

She's not going to call him.  Clink.  Clink.  The seconds mound up inside her.  Clink.  Clink.  Clink.  When she shifts in the hard plastic chair, they scatter and rattle against her hipbones.  She feels heavier inside the longer she waits.  She had never plumbed the depths of herself before this job.  She has more strength and more capacity to tolerate the mysteries of the universe than she imagined, but her patience is not infinite.  Time still weighs on her.  

After half an hour, her hand slips into her other jacket pocket for her phone.  All unbidden, it presses the single digit that she has programmed in as a shorthand for his number.  For him.  Mulder is 1.  Tall.  Stooped to reach her.  No sense of balance.  Not prime but primal.  Her phone burrs in her ear.  The call goes to voicemail.  She hangs up.  She has her dignity.  

She sent him the information.  She left a printout on his desk, added the event to his calendar.  "Pick up Scully."  Mulder is always looking up.  It seems he ought to have seen her plane land.  

After forty-five minutes, she calls him again.  Same number.  Same blurred tone.  Same dead end.  She hangs up again.

After an hour, she stands up slowly, shifting the aggregate heft of the time inside her, and walks to the Metro station.  She'll have to call a cab, but a body in motion is happier than a body at rest, at least when that body is hers: the uncomfortable truths one learns after years in the Rube Goldberg machine of the X-Files.  She feeds bills into the machine and lets the machine print a paper ticket for her.  She has a permanent plastic card, but it's too much to think of fumbling in her wallet.  She wedges her bag under her knees and stares out the window at nothing.

She should be angry.  Mulder, for the some round significant numberth time, has ditched her.  There is no carriage for the lady.  Another sign of his unearthliness, his untethering from the petty concerns of the earthbound.  He drove her to the airport, cracking sunflower seeds between his bicuspids and weaving a narrative out of fifty different mystic threads like a taller Rumplestiltskin.  He promised to pick her up.  Instead the train rocks and rattles underneath her as it carries her through the underworld, the pressed sediment layers of history bored open for the convenience of the throngs.  Everything in DC is just short of well-maintained, including the government.  Even the Library of Congress, even the files she's meticulously relabeled: the sheer volume of history around her obfuscates its truths.  She navigates the city not by the stars, but by the clean lovely classic lines of monuments to men who owned people.  She plunges through the earth on rails laid over bones.  They are all habituated to walking through ghosts.  

She lets the motion of the car lull her and picks apart her own thoughts, slicing into her mind and propping its metaphorical ribs open.  The lack of ire at her perpetual abandonment is surprising, like a clean tox screen on a suspected addict, but she has to interpret the results she gets rather than those she expects.  What she is instead is wistful.  She wanted to see him.  She wanted him to come for her, to sweep her up in the swirl of his coat and stake her out her in view of the traveling public.  I am claimed.  

The warped and flickering reflection in the plastic window shows her lips parted in surprise.  She doesn't often indulge in thinking this way, imagining the public affirmation of Mulder's usually clandestine attentiveness.  Now, tucked into the third or fourth hard plastic seat of the day, all she wants is to be in his car, tipping her head obliquely on the headrest to trace his profile with her eyes.  

He's waiting at her apartment building when she climbs out of the cab she took from the closest Metro station.  He takes her suitcase from the cabbie, all solicitous grace.  Boyfriendly.  She suppresses the flutter of her heart.  Twenty cc's of common sense into the cardiac muscle.  Grey clouds jostle overhead, as frisky and balky as calves at a gate, peering at her.  She has emerged from the gentle oblivion of travel: overhead, underground, removed from the world.  She inhales the humid freshness of the breeze and lets it press the last traces of stale recirculated air from her lungs.

"How was the trip?" he asks.  The wheels on her bag press lines into the damp leaves on the sidewalk.  It's rained while she was in limbo, and the season has turned almost imperceptibly, shaking the boughs as it passes.  Stray drops patter down from the trees.  

"It was fine," she tells him.

"I'm sure they valued your expertise," he says, looking up at the gravid clouds as she punches in the code for her front door, as if he doesn't know it.

"They asked a lot of questions," she tells him as they step inside the building.

"Well, you've trained for that," he says with a wink.  

"I missed you," she says.

His grin is bright, conspiratorial, infectious.  "I missed you too.  Sorry I wasn't at the airport.  Skinner wanted something."

It is an apologetic non-apology.  Neither Schrodinger or Heisenberg could make much of it, unable to verify either the sincerity or the veracity of his excuse.  Still, she forgives him.  He is confessed.  He is absolved.  The rain will wash them both clean.  As she unlocks her front door, she can hear the dappling wet begin again.  The light in her apartment shifts as the clouds swell and drop.  Despite everything - the blood soaked into the pad beneath the carpet, the scratches in the paint on the vents from Tooms' incursion, the fragments of glass in the mulch underneath her window - the space is cozy, lightly scented with sage and lemon.  She has learned to claw back her things from the clutches of trauma: candles, her overstuffed couch, her bathtub, her partner.  Her life.  Her heart.

"Come in," she says, a foregone conclusion, but one that holds more promise now.  Time is not a universal invariant.  She can pull taut her tidy little stitches, all the moments she's saved over the years not being in love with him, and turn them into something lovely.  She can spend with profligate decadence from the hoard of moments that's dragged at her all day.  She turns as she pulls the key from her lock and he's watching her.  Out of season, something blooms inside her.

"All right," he murmurs, his voice scraping lightly against some prehistoric susceptibility still programmed into her medulla oblongata.  Respiration, circulation, her need for Mulder: all autonomic functions, beyond her conscious control.  She steps into the apartment and out of her shoes with a sigh, bracing one hand against the armoire.  Mulder presses in behind her, a one-man crowd still towing her suitcase.

She makes tea.  That's what she does when it rains.  Scale rattles in the bottom of the kettle as she fills it from the faucet.  She should clean it soon, replace the herbal scent of her candles with the bite of vinegar steaming through her kitchen, but she's weary, prizing comfort over scoured perfection.  She can hear Mulder hanging his jacket by the armoire and setting her bag by her bedroom door.  Funny how willing he is to cross all her metaphorical thresholds, but when it comes to the physical, he has cotillion manners.  He's been sprawled insensible in her bed, white gauze against his warm golden skin stopping up a wound she gave him and tended to, but still he nudges her suitcase until it rests delicately against her door and saunters back to her.

"Tea?" he asks.  She nods and reaches into the cupboard for a number of boxes.  

"Peppermint," she says, tasting the crispness of the consonants on her tongue.  "Oolong.  Jasmine.  Earl Grey."   She brandishes each one at him and sets them on the counter.  

"Peppermint," he says decisively.  "Although, technically, Scully, a blend that doesn't include the cured leaves of the Camellia sinensis bush is a tisane."

"We aren't all Oxford-educated psychologists," she says.  

"Celestial Seasonings is a cult," he tells her, sprawling into one of her kitchen chairs.  Mulder can sit straight as a ramrod and still sprawl somehow, but this is louche, possessive, his arm slung over the back of her Windsor chair.  He sits in her chair like he might invite her to sit on his lap.  She wonders if it's intentional.  Mulder doesn't always understand his effect on people.  Mulder doesn't always understand his effect on her, specifically, despite the overclocked interrogative processes of his mind.  

"Care to elaborate?"  She presses the knob in, turns it until it clicks and the flame ignites.  She half-listens as Mulder rambles on, dropping citations to esoteric publications, mentioning names she won't remember until some other fact tugs at the twanging filaments of her schema.  Working on the X-Files has given her a mind like a spiderweb: every idea filters through her, snagging against the relevant threads until she can apprehend it and sip it dry.  Meanwhile Mulder, neither noiseless nor patient, spins his yarns and weaves them around her until she's swaddled in his narratives, transfixed.

Scully leans against the counter.  She's sat too long today.  The longer she stands, the more she feels the leaden weight of waiting soften, melting down her legs and slowing her feet.  It feels as if she is reclaiming those moments; every task takes three times as long to do, borrowed back from her store of lonely minutes.  Rain lashes the window and drums on the roof.  The gravelly racket from the kettle is a fitting soundtrack to Mulder's tales of conspiracy and herbs.  He looks at her, expectant.  

"It makes sense," she says.  "No well-balanced person could concoct Raspberry Zinger."

"A delicious conspiracy," he intones solemnly, gazing at her with those bosky eyes.

The kettle whines.  It gives her an excuse to look away from him.  Surely immediate domestic concerns like water boiling override the temptation to let herself be captured in the fairy rings of his irises.  The kettle insists, the sound rising to a squeal as she snaps off the flame and pours the water into two cups.  The tea bags bob just beneath the surface, leaking ochre.  She nudges one toward Mulder, who rises from the chair and leans over her, a breath too close for professionalism, to retrieve it.  She cants her body to escape his orbit and retires to the couch.  Mulder joins her, lounging at the other end, the weight of him as palpable as the ballast of time she's slowly shedding.  

Scully laces her cool fingers around the hot mug.  Ever since Antarctica, she's relished the heat despite the way it stings.  Her baths are too hot, leaving her rosy with her hair in ringlets.  Her coffee scalds her tongue.  Mulder winces and sets his mug on her coffee table, then casually pulls her feet into his lap and kneads his knuckles along her arches as if it's something he does every day.  His fingers are warmer than usual as he presses into the complicated countertension of tendons and fascia, residual heat from the tea.  

"Mulder," she starts to say, but all that comes out is the em in a soft sound of pleasure.

"I know this doesn't make up for ditching you, Scully," he says, "but I promise this time it wasn't my fault.  Skinner trapped me in his office with some rookie who needed help with a profile.  I told him that I had to go, but he reminded me that my continued employment with the federal government depends to some extent on fulfilling his whims."

"Did you tell him you were leaving to pick me up?" she asks.  

"For some reason, that didn't compel him," Mulder says, digging into a tender spot until she gasps a little.  "I did catch him picking up his car keys.  Maybe he wanted to be the one rubbing your feet."

"I thought the massage was an act of contrition," she says.  

"If that were the traditional apology for ditching someone, I would have been kneeling at your feet years ago," he tells her.  "Maybe I should have been."

"Then why are you rubbing my feet?" she asks.

He shrugs and imprints circles around the bone of her ankle with the soft pad of his thumb.  "Indulging myself."

The afternoon drags past like wet silk, brushing over her skin instead of piling up inside her in a hoard of compounded disinterest.  Scully sips at her tea, or her tisane, or whatever the hell it is, relishing the contradictory fresh heat of it as Mulder smoothes the fatigue out of her feet.  The mesh of her pantyhose makes webs between her toes.  She is become a suburban cryptid, a soccer mom type with a secret.  Mulder purses his lips and blows into the interstices to make her shiver.  

"Indulgence isn't your usual modus operandi," she says at last, drowsy and refreshed.  

"Mm?"  He looks up at her.  "What are my regular symptoms, Doctor Scully?"

"Flagellation," she says idly.  "A guilt complex that verges on narcissistic.  Melancholy."

"Maybe I need my humors balanced," he quips.

"I can dig up some leeches if you're feeling bilious," she says.  

"All the more reason to do my penance," he says.  "Prostrating myself before you.  A thousand Hail Scullys and a few hours of foot rubs are a small price to pay for my mortal soul."  He ducks his head in contrition.  Dark stubble ruffles down his neck.  She wants to chafe her fingertips against it, or the soft skin of her cheek.  He's due for an appointment with the clippers.

"It's going to take more than a few hours of foot rubs to avoid the leeches," she corrects him.  

"Exact your toll," he says.  "Five minutes for every minute you've spent waiting for me sound fair?"

She snorts.  "You're negotiating yourself into a lifetime of indentured servitude at that rate."  

"There are worse fates," he says lightly.

"There are better proposals," she parries.  

"Are you asking me to marry you, Scully?"  His voice is low, the cadence of his words deliberately provocative.

"Of course not," she counters.  "I can't depend on you to pick me up from the airport, much less meet me at the altar and be with me for better or for worse."  

"At least we've already gone through sickness and health," he says, releasing her feet for long enough to rap on the veneer of her table and then resettling himself.  "But you have a point."  He strokes the tops of her ankles down to her toes, his long fingers grazing delicately along the slope of her foot.  "We'll have to settle for a lifelong bond less sanctioned by the priests of the world."

Outside it's still raining.  They are cordoned off from the rest of the world by grey and damp in a moment that will be dissolved, resolved, absolved.  Après ça, le déluge, and their confessions will evaporate like holy water, returning to some abstract plane.  Scully sets down her mug.  

"Is that all?" she asks casually.

"An eternity of contrition," he says.  "And my best attempts at punctuality.  Although between you and me, I think Skinner did it on purpose."

"Are you saying he's trying to come between us?"  She hums as he resumes his ministrations.

"He's been trying to come between us for years," Mulder claims.

"The true conspiracy," she says.  "The question is, which one of us is he after?"

"A conundrum for the ages," Mulder murmurs.  

Scully rests her head against the couch cushions, her eyes drifting over Mulder's face as he devotes himself to kneading her calves.  His downcast lashes smudge his cheekbones.  He is cast half in shadow by the rainlight, a moody portrait of devotion.  She lets herself be weary, lets herself be cherished, lets time slip past without marking it.  Some moments are eternity.  She will find all the minutes she has lost, someday, in this infinitely variable universe.