#low-flow fixtures

[alt-ctrl]

Elegant Simplicity: The Unsung Hero of Environmental Solutions

In a world teeming with complex problems, we often find ourselves reaching for equally intricate solutions. But what if the key to solving our most pressing environmental challenges lies not in grandiose schemes, but in the realm of elegant simplicity? Welcome to the counterintuitive world of minimalistic eco-solutions, where less truly is more, and small changes ripple out to create tidal waves of positive impact.

The Plastic Paradox: How Tiny Tubes are Saving the Oceans

Picture this: you're sipping a refreshing beverage, feeling the weight of the world's plastic pollution problem on your shoulders. But wait! The very straw you're using might just be the hero we need. Enter the humble metal straw – a prime example of how thinking small can lead to big changes.

The single-use plastic straw, once a ubiquitous symbol of convenience, has become the poster child for environmental wastefulness. But its demise has given rise to a minimalist revolution. Metal straws, reusable bags, and glass containers are the new cool kids on the block, proving that sometimes, the most effective solutions are also the simplest.

"But surely," you might say, "my one little straw can't make a difference?"

Oh, but it can! It's time to embrace the butterfly effect of eco-friendliness. When cafes offer discounts for bringing your own cup, they're not just saving you money – they're cultivating a culture of sustainability. It's like a domino effect, but instead of falling flat, we're building a greener future, one reusable container at a time.

Urban Jungles: Where Concrete Dreams Go Green

Now, let's take a stroll through the city. Amidst the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, you might spot an unexpected oasis – a pocket of greenery reclaiming a once-vacant lot. Welcome to the world of urban green spaces, where city planners are playing a real-life game of "SimCity: Eco Edition."

These verdant patches are more than just pretty faces in the concrete jungle. They're working overtime as nature's air purifiers, heat reducers, and mood boosters. It's like giving the city a green makeover, but instead of just looking good, it's actually doing good.

Take Copenhagen, for example. The Danish capital has embraced the green roof movement with such enthusiasm, you'd think they were trying to camouflage the entire city from alien invaders. But these rooftop gardens are doing more than just hiding from extraterrestrial eyes – they're creating habitats for urban wildlife, managing stormwater, and making the city more livable for its human inhabitants.

But why stop at rooftops?

Imagine a city where every vacant lot is a potential garden, every wall a vertical forest. It's not just urban planning; it's urban planting. And the best part? It doesn't require a Ph.D. in environmental science to implement. Just a bit of soil, some seeds, and the willingness to get your hands dirty.

Water, Water Everywhere, But Not a Drop to Waste

Now, let's dive into the world of water conservation. In a plot twist worthy of M. Night Shyamalan, it turns out that saving water doesn't require high-tech gadgetry or a degree in hydro-engineering. Sometimes, all it takes is a barrel.

Enter the humble rain barrel – the unsung hero of water conservation. These simple containers are like piggy banks for liquid gold, collecting rainwater that would otherwise go to waste. It's like nature's version of "reduce, reuse, recycle," but with more splashing.

But the water-saving saga doesn't end there. Low-flow fixtures are turning our homes into water-conserving fortresses, one drip at a time. And for those with a flair for the dramatic, there's xeriscaping – the art of creating gardens that thrive on neglect. It's like the lazy person's guide to saving the planet, where doing less actually means achieving more.

"But surely," you might protest, "these small changes can't possibly make a real difference?"

Oh ye of little faith! In drought-prone regions, homeowners who've embraced these techniques are watching their water bills shrink faster than a puddle in the Sahara. And municipalities that incentivize water-saving measures are seeing their reservoirs stay fuller longer. It's not just a drop in the bucket – it's a sea change in how we approach water conservation.

The Paradox of Simplicity

As we've seen, the most elegant solutions to our environmental challenges often come wrapped in the simplest packages. It's a paradox worthy of Zen philosophy: by doing less, we achieve more. By simplifying, we solve complex problems. By thinking small, we make a big impact.

So the next time you're faced with an environmental challenge, resist the urge to overcomplicate. Instead, channel your inner minimalist. Ask yourself: What's the simplest solution? What small change could create a ripple effect? How can less be more?

Remember, in the grand tapestry of environmental solutions, it's often the tiniest threads that hold everything together. So grab your metal straw, plant a rooftop garden, and save some rainwater. You might just save the world while you're at it.

If you’ve enjoyed this article please consider sharing it or buy me a Coffee

[techtoio]

The Ultimate Guide to Eco-Tech: Sustainable Solutions for Everyday Life

Introduction

In our rapidly changing world, adopting eco-tech products and solutions becomes reasonably necessary to lead a sustainable life. Eco-tech products and practices are innovations that ensure lesser impact on the environment and bring sustainability to your doorstep. At TechtoIO, we strive to help you cut through the best possible eco-tech options that will make a difference in your everyday life. Let us look at how you could get those sustainable solutions into your life. Read to continue link

[homeimprovementrefferal]

How To Reduce Water Heating Costs

How To Reduce Water Heating Costs - #homeimprovementreferral #Budget, #PopularPosts - https://www.homeimprovementreferral.com/how-to-reduce-water-heating-costs-2023-10/

[delulufortoji]

HOW MANY TIMES? - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji x fem!reader

summary: you and toji have been together for over a year, but every time you say you love him, he never seems to be able to say it back…

word count: ~3k

content: 18+, modern au, established relationship, oral, overstim

notes: i was sick, tired, suffering from jjk brain rot, and it was like 1 in the morning when i wrote this so it might seem like some straight bullshit 😅 and this is like the first jjk fic i’ve ever written, so yeahhh

You still remember the night you two met, the memory ingrained clearly in your mind: it was a stormy afternoon, nature raging outside with branches scratching against your windows and leaves beating on the glass. The sky above darkened, the warm drizzle mixed with the humid breeze. Gray clouds drifted overhead, bringing a sudden chilling wind and shower with them, causing water to flow down the pathways and pool into puddles. The air itself carried an earthy scent, and the wilting leaves from the trees gracefully descended to join the wet ground. The soothing sound of rain trickling down the window added to the enchantment of the moment.

And then, there he was, behind your door, a strikingly toned and towering figure, utterly drenched, his hair clinging to his face, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, and a subtle, intriguing smile playing on his lips. “Hey, can I stay here for a couple of days until the storm blows over? I ain’t got anywhere else to go.” He asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You could feel your jaw drop, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of shyness and amazement. This man…he was undeniably handsome—his bold and quiet confidence, his voice, his charming smile, all of it made your heart throb. “S—Sure…” you muttered, “ you can stay here.”

“There’s no need to be shy,” he chuckled, “I’ll be gone and outta your hair in a couple of days.”

The blush in your cheeks deepened. “Yeah, okay,” you replied shyly, avoiding his icy gaze, “go sit by the heater to warm yourself up. I’ll go get you a towel so you can shower.”

“Alright, then.” The man said with a sly grin.

You don’t quite recall how, but somehow “warming up” took on a different meaning than intended: you soon found yourself entangled with him, your body sweating underneath his touch, his hips meeting yours in monstrous thrusts. The room resonated with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

“F—Fuck Toji…slow down…” you gasped amidst the pleasure.

“Shh,” he whispered, silencing you by plunging his digits into your mouth, “the only sound I wanna hear is the sound of your pussy purring.” Toji's pace intensified, his grip on your hips growing more possessive. You couldn't contain your ecstasy, climaxing as fire surged through your body. His thrusts grew erratic, and his breath quickened in tandem with your movements.

On a high of both pleasure and euphoria, you did as Toji said—you let your pussy talk for you, breathlessly blurting out: “I love you, Toji.

“...Heh, do ya really?” A response less than what you expected. But the wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much for you to inject, to express your dissatisfaction at his answer.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Toji's presence became a permanent fixture in your life. He moved in, sharing the burdens of rent and groceries with a part-time job, allowing you to take more breaks. Yet, amidst this peaceful coexistence, there remained a lingering issue—those three words you so desperately wanted to hear repeated. Each time you uttered "I love you," Toji's response fell short, often met with laughter or a casual "Okay," leaving your heart yearning for the affirmation you craved.

You glance at him now from where you are: in the dimly lit room he sits, his eyes stuck on the dull glow of the phone in his hand. On instinct, you make your way over to Toji, settling into his lap, your fingers delicately toying with the fine ends of his hair.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he meets your gaze, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “What’s wrong, doll?”

You offer no answer, instead, you continue to run your fingers through the strands, captivated by the finely sculpted features of the man before you: his features seem meticulously crafted, each detail carefully considered in the making of Toji’s face, from the angular lines of his cheekbones to the gentle slope of his chiseled jawline. His pale, pink lips curve perpetually in a sly smirk, and his dark eyes hold an untamed intensity that ensnares your attention. You can’t help but be enamored, can’t resist the urge to confess, "I love you."

Another light laugh escapes his lips. "I know."

A heavy silence envelops you, leaving you taken aback by his lackluster response. Toji, still engrossed in his phone, finally asks, "Is there a problem?”

You can't help but press further, frustration building. “How many times do I have to say it before you say it back?”

"Say what back?"

You scoff. "You know what I meant." A hint of frustration colors your tone as you shift in his lap, turning away from him.

Toji pauses for a moment, carefully considering his words. "Baby, you know how I feel about you," he eventually concedes, though it seems more like a half-hearted attempt to soothe your emotions.

He doesn’t mean to be disingenuous, doesn’t mean to hurt you with his lack of a response. You know him well enough to know he isn’t one to verbally express how he feels, nor is he one to blurt “I love you’s”, but part of you had hoped that would change after a year of being together.

A frown etches itself into your features as you stand up, turning to the door. "You don't mean that."

“Where are you going?" He calls after you, a slight layer of concern evident in his voice.

"To sleep."

Determined not to let you go, Toji follows you into the room, pulling you closer by your waist. “C’mon baby. You know I ain’t mean to make you mad.”

“But you did.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he croons, resting his forehead on the nape of your neck, pressing light kisses to your skin. “My bad.” He turns you around so that you’re facing him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” You ask.

A slight smirk plays on Toji’s lips as he inches closer—by now, you two are stuck in an intimate proximity, his breath tickling your face. Just being this close to you is enough temptation for him to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss, his rough hands cradling your face. “Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, his warm breath mingling with yours.

His lips curve into a smile on yours as he presses you down onto the bed. Toji positions himself between your thighs, his lips never leaving yours, not even for a second. His touch ignites a passionate fire as he explores your body, his tongue tracing a scorching path from your lips, down your neck, and further, leaving you breathless with desire.

“Toji…keep going…” As your pleasure mounts, you can't help but moan his name, encouraging him further. His hands explore your inner thighs, spreading his warmth, his kisses become more insistent. His tongue moves lazily down your panties, the subtle friction from the stubble on his chin heightening the sensations. Your breath quickens, and your thighs quiver as he slowly slides his thumb over the moist fabric of your underwear before deftly moving it aside.

Toji's breath, hot and tantalizing, teases your sensitive flesh, his lips hovering mere inches from your core. His eyes, heavy with desire, meet yours for a fleeting moment, and a mischievous smirk tugs at his lips. "Still shy, even after all this time?" he teases, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "C'mon, girl, put it on me."

“Stop talking,” You say, dropping yourself down his face, wrapping your legs around his neck, “just make this quick.”

“I’ll make it anything but.” His response is a wicked promise in itself. You barely manage to hold back a whimper when Toji dives into his task, latching his mouth onto your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your pulsating walls.

“Toji…” you moan, gripping his hair, pushing his head further down.

You lose yourself to the sensation, clenching from the pace of his tongue. Your hips begin to move on sheer instinct, riding his face—your fingers are tangled up in his hair, your fists tugging on his soft locks. You’re grinding on him, your body craving every sensation, every touch, every flick of his skilled tongue, and twitching every time something grazes your folds—Toji is so damn ruthless with his tongue that it has you feeling high, like you’re on cloud nine. His every touch, no matter how brief, drives you to the brink, leaving you in a blissful state of disarray.

“To–Toji…more…” Toji’s nose-deep now, the tip of it rubbing against your sensitive clit. He brings his head up, taking a moment to breathe. He’s gasping for air, his face is slick with your essence. He swallows and then after a couple of seconds, he goes right back to sucking.

He’d almost forgotten how good you tasted—a few minutes was enough to get him hooked on you all over again, getting hard at the sound of your whines echoing through the room. His tongue is running laps like a track star, only gaining in speed with each moan you emit. Each gasp, each whimper only pushes him closer to the brink of his desire.

He needed more of your moans, more of your sweet taste, more of you—he had lost himself in his cravings, only desperate for you. His strong hands trace your inner thigh, savoring the taste as he lavishes your pussy with his saliva, worshiping your wetness with his mouth. He laps at your cunt like a starved man–like the taste of you is all the nutrition he needs.

“I’m—I’m gonna…” you gasp, but he ignores you and just keeps going, his tongue working your clit, just the way you like it. He let his eyes close in ecstasy, feeling you as your hips bucked up into his mouth, groaning at the sensation. “Toji, please…” you whimpered, your need reaching its peak. He’s still going, making you wait until he’s finished eating, until you’re a fucking mess—until you’re quivering, reduced to incoherent pleas just to come. After a couple more minutes of teasing you, of edging you, he finally grants you the release you crave. As he lifts his mouth from your pulsing core, you can only grip his hair tighter, gasping his name until you can finally come down from the intense high.

He slides his mouth up to your lips, his mouth smooth and buttery on yours—the sheer thought of tasting yourself on his tongue right after he had just eaten you out was disgusting, but you can’t be bothered when Toji feels this good.

He stares at you, a grin playing on his lips. “You forgive me now?” he asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You shake your head, huffing out the words: “Sh–shut up, Toji.”

He looks at you with a cocky smirk, his hair matted to his face, his breathing heavy, but his dark blue eyes, normally cold and distant, are now aflame with longing and desire—he said without words what he rarely admitted with him.

“Open wide.” He says, his voice a low, sultry rumble.

You take off your shirt and lie down on your back, legs spread out—you look so fucking hot for him, sprawled out like this, your pussy soaking wet and on full display. You’re an irresistible vision of his desire, every curve of your form a masterpiece in his eyes. God, he can almost feel himself stretching you out and you clenching, tightening around him, and he’s not even inside you yet.

He can’t bear to wait any longer, can’t bear to hold it in—he’s throbbing, desperate to plunge into you, to be buried deep within your warmth. He needs to be balls deep inside of you, right fucking now. Toji brings out his cock with a groan, and god, is he full and aching to be inside you—only you could ever get him this hard.

He pulls your hips closer to him, dick poised at your entrance. “C’mon girl,” he says with a slight grunt, a hint of impatience in his voice. That’s when he slowly begins his descent into you, inch by inch—he’s not even fully in, but his tip alone is enough to steal a small gasp from your lips.

You stare at him and whimper, feeling him as he forces himself deeper. He is so big—his thick, rigid shaft glides within your velvety folds, leaving you trembling and powerless to resist. You bite your lower lip to stifle your cries, completely lost in the waves of lust that crash over you. “To…Toji…” You’re already babbling as he buries himself balls deep into you. Toji’s hips slap against yours once—a single thrust already has you moaning, salivating at the sensation, arms wrapped around his neck.

With your hand pinned above your head, fingers interlocked with his, Toji rocks into you with an intensity that borders on primal. His forehead is nestled in the crook of your neck, his ragged and hot breath caressing your soft skin, his free hand claiming every inch of your skin as his own. He’s pistoning his hips with a purpose, stretching you open with each thrust, the physical sensation and the raw intimacy between you both like a potent drug. Toji focuses on the tight heat of your walls around his cock, the way your hips meet his rhythm, the delicious way you clench around him as his dick stretches your pussy out. It should be illegal how good you feel to him right now.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Toji murmurs in your ear, his voice a husky, sensuous melody that rings through the room. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

His words are so provocative, so disgusting, yet so fucking hot—they make you want to continue, to keep teasing him with the way you feel to the point where his cock is twitching, throbbing inside of your wet heat, to the point where he can’t thrust into you anymore.

“M-More.” Your whining intensified—his movements are becoming sloppier, his thrusts beginning to lose their pattern as he loses himself in the melody of your cries and the intoxicating sensations you provide. His tip is just attacking your sweet spot, stealing those beautiful noises out from your mouth. Toji can’t focus anymore, can’t maintain his rhythm—you’re just too damn loud for him to think about anything else but you: the way your lips part each time you moan, the way your nails dig into the muscles on his back, the way you writhe under him.

The pace of his hips quicken, the beautifully lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans filling the room. “Fuuuckkk—” Toji grunts. Just one round with you has him in disarray—his black strands are a mess, drenched with sweat, his ruffled hair obscuring his vision with how it fell over his eyes. But even in this fevered state, he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his relentless thrusts making your throbbing core scream for more.

“Toji…Toji…” His dick throbs each time his name falls from your beautiful lips in breathy cries, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. His lips find yours in fervent kisses, his navy blue eyes locked onto yours as his hips meet yours with increasing urgency.

He’s so damn rough with you, but he can’t help it, especially when you feel like a slice of heaven—he’s ruthlessly fucking you into the bed, grunts escaping his mouth every time he does so. You’re stuck in a passionate trance, each strike to your core, vigorous and accurate—fuck, it’s got your throbbing pussy yearning out for more.

“Goddamn, Toji—” You stammer, rendered incapable of finishing your sentence, shuddering with the hypnotizing movement of Toji’s hips, with the intoxicating feel of him inside of his body. His thick cock is being engulfed by your sheer warmth, each pulse only stretching you out more. “S–so good.”

Toji grumbles, and you whimper as his base repeatedly strikes you, his every thrust taking you deeper. You're lost in the heady pleasure, your core gripping him tightly, refusing to let go, making him push harder and faster.

The repeated sound of his skin slapping against yours becomes a relentless symphony of pleasure: slap, slap, slap. He’s losing himself even more, completely drunk off of you—he just can’t help himself. You’re like a drug. And fuck, did you look pretty beneath him, giving him the most spectacular view of your body. Tits on full display, your eyes rolling back each time he hits your sweet spot. He can’t help but breathe heavily when he looks down at you naked under him. Bites and hickeys cover your flawless skin, and shit, did the sight of those marks drive Toji wild.

Toji’s brows furrow together, and the pace of his hips begins to slow for a brief moment. He chuckles softly and brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness. “Hey–I love ya. I really do. Our feelings are mutual.” It’s not the confession you were hoping for, but still, it was his own unique way of confirming what you had been longing to hear—his own way of confirming that he had never felt for anyone the way he felt for you.

With a contented sigh, he releases a thick load, and you feel it deep within you, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his passion. You laugh lightly and pull him closer, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your nails digging themselves deeper into Toji’s back. "F–faster, Toji... k–keep going..."

“So needy.” He obliges, pounding his cum deeper into you. He sighs gently, his lips curling up into a smile against the curve between your neck and shoulder. “Anything for ya, baby.”

[dailyadventureprompts]

Encounter: The Bridgebuilder's Impasse

Frustrated with interruptions to the flow of commerce, a local caravan magnate has hired your party to slay the giant who's repeatedly destroyed the bridge spanning a turbulent river causing delays and costly detours across the realm. The one wrinkle to this otherwise straightforward mission is that the giant is the one who built the bridge in the first place, and rather than hunting a rampaging monster you and your companions have signed on to assassinate a beloved local artisan.

Whoever said “two heads are better than one” never met the giant Gilbult Gultib (or Gultib Gilbult, as he often insists) who far more embodies the adage “Every artist is their own worst critic”.  Immensely talented in stonecutting and engineering, Gilbult (or Gultib depending on who you ask) has been building and rebuilding the same bridge for the better part of two centuries, sometimes letting it stand for a generation, sometimes scrapping it and starting over several times over the course of the same month. 

With a perfectionist streak as wide as the river he's trying to cross, neither head can agree how, muchless when the bridge should be finished, agreeing only that what came before will be insufficient going forward and that they must return to the drafting board once again.

Adventure Hooks:

The locals are of divided opinion about Gultib Gilbult, most regard him as something of a curiosity, as much a fixture of the landscape as the river itself, while others see him as a gruff but otherwise pleasant neighbour or family friend. There's a very vocal minority that wish that he would get on with building the bridge, or else move and leave the maintenance to someone who won't tear it down on a whim, especially the merchants who end up paying an arm and a leg on unexpected barge fees. There's been an uptick in those actively calling for the giant to be driven off, all of which just so happen to be in the pay of the local quarry owner, who's in talks with the Caravan magnate about the construction of a tollbridge in the near future.

Having reached a new low of indecision, the giant has resulted to gambling with himself to decide the composition of this version of the bridge, anteing particular stones against himself in the hope that luck and strategy will let the superior side of his mind win out. This is just as much a stalemate as any other, but may present an opportunity for the party to resolve the situation without violence.

The tricky thing about accepting adventuring contracts from successful merchants is that they're VERY good at paperwork, and while this one did come with a sizeable advance, the fine print threatens numerous penalties (including debt and possible outlawing) if the party don't fulfill their end of the bargain and take out the giant in a timely manner.

Artist

[enemiestolovershoe]

Heii babeee. Can you please do a Rafe Cameron x enemies!reader? They are both well known people on Figure 8 but hat each other but one evening at a gala or something they fight and end up fucking in the bathroom. Maybe Ward and readers dad catches them in the end?

Entangled with the Enemy

Rafe Cameron x enemie!reader

Words: 4k

Summary: a heated rivalry ignites passion during a gala, revealing hidden desires.

Ever since you could remember, Rafe Cameron had been a thorn in your side. It wasn’t just a passing annoyance—no, it was a deep-rooted rivalry that had started long before either of you understood the complexities of disdain. It began at the country club when you were both barely old enough to hold a golf club. He had knocked over your lemonade in the clubhouse, laughing in that irritating way that only a spoiled rich kid could. You had retaliated by stepping on his foot with your newly polished shoes, which led to a shouting match that had every adult in the room glancing disapprovingly in your direction.

You hated him then. You hated him now.

Years later, not much had changed between you. If anything, the rivalry had only grown stronger, more venomous, as you both became fixtures in Figure 8’s elite social scene. Wherever you were, Rafe wasn’t far behind, and the feeling of mutual loathing had followed you through middle school, high school, and now, even into your early twenties.

Everyone in Figure 8 knew of your animosity. Some thought it was amusing—two golden children of Kildare’s wealthiest families constantly at each other’s throats. Others whispered, wondering if there wasn’t something else lurking beneath all that hatred, but you always scoffed at the idea.

Tonight was no different.

The annual Figure 8 Gala was a glamorous event, one that drew all the old-money families out of their grand estates and onto the dance floor, where champagne flowed like water and gossip circulated in hushed, excited tones. You stood near the bar, wearing a sleek black dress that made you look effortlessly elegant. You had a glass of wine in your hand, but you weren’t drinking much. Instead, your eyes flitted over the crowd, looking for an exit. As much as you tried to tolerate these events, they always left you feeling restless.

Just as you took a sip, you heard that all-too-familiar voice behind you.

“Surprised to see you here. Didn’t think this was your scene anymore,” Rafe sneered, his presence commanding attention without even trying.

You set your glass down on the bar, not turning around yet. The tension between you two was palpable, even before you exchanged a single glance.

“Rafe, are you stalking me now, or is it just that you have nothing better to do with your life?” you retorted, finallyspinning around to face him.

He looked infuriatingly good, dressed in a tailored black suit that highlighted his broad shoulders and sharp jawline. His eyes, blue and piercing, studied you for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Always the charming one,” he said mockingly, stepping closer. “Remind me, how many years have you been trying to get under my skin? I’m starting to lose count.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him intimidate you. “I don’t have to try. You make it way too easy.”

Rafe chuckled, a low sound that made your skin prickle with annoyance. “Oh, trust me, princess, you’ve been trying. Ever since we were kids.”

At that, your glare sharpened. "Please. If anyone’s been obsessed with the past, it’s you. I’ve moved on from our childish nonsense a long time ago.”

“Right,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. “That’s why you’re standing here, looking like you’re about to snap my neck just because I’m breathing in the same room as you.”

“I’m standing here because I’m trying to enjoy my night without you ruining it,” you shot back, voice icy. “But clearly, that’s asking for too much.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You’re enjoying this just as much as I am.”

You pulled back immediately, staring at him like he’d just insulted you. “You’re delusional if you think I enjoy anything about you.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering you with a smug look that only made your blood boil more. “You used to care what I thought. Back in the day. Admit it.”

You scoffed, brushing past him, though he was quick to catch up, his long strides keeping him close. “I never cared about your opinion, Rafe. You’ve always been a spoiled, arrogant—”

“Rich boy?” he finished for you, a sarcastic glint in his eyes. “You keep throwing that around like it’s supposed to insult me.”

“It’s not an insult,” you replied, your voice low but steady. “It’s a fact.”

He stopped in front of you, blocking your path. The tension between you both was starting to draw attention from the surrounding party-goers, who were now casting curious glances in your direction. Some even whispered to one another, probably amused at the latest chapter in the saga of Rafe Cameron vs. You.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Rafe’s question came suddenly, his tone different—less mocking, more…curious. His brow furrowed as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer. “What is it, huh?”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the shift in his attitude. “I—what?”

“You heard me,” he said, taking a step closer, his voice dropping. “Why do you hate me? Because, from where I’m standing, it feels like you put more effort into this than necessary. I know I’m not the nicest guy around, but…” He trailed off, watching you with a sharpness that you hadn’t seen before. It was unnerving.

You swallowed hard, straightening your posture as you searched for a retort. You couldn’t let him get to you. Not like this. “It’s easy to hate you, Rafe. You make it easy.”

He nodded slowly, as if contemplating your words. His lips twitched, forming a tight smile. “Because it’s easier to hate me than admit anything else, right?”

“What the hell does that mean?” you snapped, suddenly defensive.

“It means,” Rafe started, closing the distance between you again, his voice lowering to a near whisper, “you spend so much time convincing yourself that I’m the problem, but maybe the problem is you can’t stand the fact that we’re more alike than you want to admit.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but nothing came out. For a split second, his words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a vice. The tension between you two felt different, heavier, like it was building toward something neither of you could control.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you finally managed to say, though your voice lacked the usual venom.

His smirk returned, but there was something else behind it now. Something almost…challenging. “Oh, I don’t have to. You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“I’m not thinking about anything except how to get away from you,” you shot back, turning on your heel to leave. But his hand caught your wrist, stopping you.

“Funny,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing. “Because every time you walk away, you always come back.”

A rush of frustration surged through you, his words clawing at something deeper, something you hadn’t been willing to admit for a long time. Maybe it was the constant proximity, maybe it was the years of bickering, or maybe it was the way he stood there, challenging you with every look, every smirk, every damn word. You felt your pulse quicken, your heart hammering in your chest as the room seemed to grow smaller.

You exhaled sharply, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, overwhelming you.

"Fuck this," you muttered under your breath.

Without giving yourself time to think—or regret—you grabbed Rafe by the front of his jacket and pulled him with you, weaving through the crowd. You didn’t know where you were going at first, but the second you spotted the nearest bathroom, you headed straight for it. Your heels clicked furiously against the polished floor as Rafe followed, clearly taken by surprise but not resisting.

The bathroom door slammed behind you, not locking, but you didn’t care.

Before you could second-guess yourself, your hands gripped his collar, pulling him down as your lips crashed into his. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t careful. It was desperate, heated—years of tension and frustration finally spilling over.

Rafe groaned into your mouth, his hands immediately gripping your waist as if he’d been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. The kiss was fierce, all teeth and tongue, neither of you giving the other a moment to breathe.

“Always so dramatic,” Rafe muttered against your lips between heavy breaths, his fingers sliding up your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Shut up,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, wanting—needing—more.

He chuckled against your mouth, but the sound quickly turned into a low growl as his hands roamed down to your hips, gripping you with an intensity that made your legs feel weak.

Before you knew it, he lifted you effortlessly, your back pressing against the cool bathroom counter as he hoisted you up onto it. You gasped as the cold surface met your thighs, but the feeling was quickly replaced by the heat of his hands sliding up your legs, parting them with a slow, deliberate motion.

His lips were on your neck again, sucking and biting in a way that made it impossible to think straight. You could feel his breath hitch as he pressed harder into you, his body flush against yours.

“You’re not gonna stop me this time, are you?” Rafe’s voice was rough, low, almost daring you to push him away.

“Try me,” you muttered, breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

Rafe smirked, his eyes dark with something more than just arrogance. His hands tightened around your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours again. "I always knew you wanted me,” he whispered, his voice dripping with that familiar cockiness, but this time, you didn’t bother to deny it.

“You think too much,” you replied, your voice coming out in a breathy rush, and before he could respond, you crashed your lips into his again. This time, there was no holding back, no hesitation. Just pure, heated want.

He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips as his hands slid up the inside of your thighs, parting your legs even further. The counter pressed against your back, the cold contrast making the heat between your bodies even more intense.

Your heart raced as his touch became more insistent, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t get enough of you. And you couldn’t get enough of him, either. Everything about this moment was wrong, but it felt so damn right.

You didn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

You barely registered what you were doing as your fingers reached for the buttons of Rafe’s shirt, fumbling slightly in your haste to get it off. He broke the kiss for a brief second, just long enough to glance down at your hands before smirking. Without a word, he quickly helped you, undoing the buttons faster and shoving the fabric off his shoulders. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the heat of his body driving you crazy as your hands ran over the hard planes of his chest.

He didn’t waste any time either. His hands slid down your waist, rough and urgent, before they disappeared under your dress. With one swift motion, he pushed it up around your hips, his fingertips skimming over your thighs as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off,” Rafe growled, voice thick with lust as he pulled them down in one quick motion, leaving you bare beneath him. He tossed them aside carelessly, his hands immediately returning to your thighs, spreading your legs wider.

You gasped, both from the sudden exposure and the way his touch sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly. Your mind was spinning, caught somewhere between disbelief and pure, unfiltered desire. This was happening, and it was happening fast, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it. Not when every touch, every breath, made your skin burn with need.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, his body pressing firmly against yours. He took a moment to look down at you, his blue eyes darkened with lust, a cocky grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I always knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with that same arrogant charm that had always made you want to slap him—except now, it made you want him even more.

“Shut up,” you breathed, your hands flying to his belt, desperate to unbuckle it and get it out of the way. The sound of the leather slipping free was loud in the small bathroom, but all you could focus on was the feel of his skin against yours as you finally managed to free him from his pants.

“Someone’s eager,” Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he kicked off his shoes and pushed his pants and boxers down in one swift movement.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your pulse racing as he pressed his hips against yours, the feel of him—hard and ready—against your entrance sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

His eyes met yours, the cocky grin gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without saying a word, he positioned himself between your legs, one hand gripping your thigh as the other lined himself up at your entrance. There was no warning, no teasing, just the raw, primal need driving both of you.

In one smooth thrust, he pushed inside, and both of you let out matching moans, the sound filling the small bathroom as your bodies collided.

“Fuck,” Rafe groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him deep inside you. His breath was hot against your neck, his grip on your hips tightening as he fought to keep himself under control.

You gasped, your nails digging into his bare shoulders as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. The stretch was intense, the pressure overwhelming, but it felt so good, too good. Your head fell back against the mirror behind you, your body arching against his as the tension in the air became almost unbearable.

“God, Rafe,” you whimpered, biting your lip as you tried to catch your breath. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the look he gave you was pure hunger. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he growled, and with that, he started to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, controlled, as if he was savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, the heat between you building with each movement. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you against him with every thrust, his body driving into yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his voice rough and filled with raw desire. His lips found yours again, but this kiss was different—hotter, needier, all tongues and teeth as his hips snapped forward, hitting deeper every time.

You couldn’t hold back the moans that escaped your lips, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your nails dug into his back as you clung to him, your body rocking with his, matching his rhythm. It was fast, frantic, like you both needed this more than air.

“Rafe…” You breathed his name again, a plea, a warning. Your entire body was wound tight, the tension coiling low in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice thick and strained as he drove into you harder, his forehead resting against yours. “Say my name.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure crashed through you. You were close, so close, and he knew it.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours as he thrust deeper, the angle hitting just right, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. “You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

You could barely respond, too lost in the feeling of him inside you, the overwhelming sensation building with each thrust, each ragged breath. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, as your nails raked down his back.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you managed to gasp, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a breaking point, your entire body trembling.

Rafe groaned in response, his thrusts becoming erratic, more desperate as he chased his own release. “Me too, baby,” he muttered against your skin, his voice strained. “Come for me.”

And that was all it took.

With one final, hard thrust, the tension inside you snapped, sending you over the edge. A moan tore from your lips, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed through you, overwhelming your senses.

Rafe wasn’t far behind. You felt him tense, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself inside you, groaning as he reached his own release. His breath was hot against your neck, his body pressed against yours as he rode out the last waves of pleasure, his hips moving in slow, lazy thrusts.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath as the intensity of what just happened settled between you.

Rafe pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked at you, a mixture of satisfaction and something else—something unreadable—in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and still rough from exertion.

You nodded, still trying to process everything. “Yeah… more than okay,” you whispered, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips.

Rafe smirked, that cocky grin you knew so well making its return. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

As the rush of the moment slowly faded, the sound of your combined heavy breathing filled the small space. Rafe’s hands still gripped your waist, his forehead resting against yours as both of you tried to come down from the intense high. Your skin was flushed, tingling from where he had touched you, the heat of your bodies still lingering in the air.

Neither of you said a word for a few moments, the silence stretching between you, filled with the weight of what had just happened. You were still perched on the counter, your dress bunched around your hips, both of you completely undressed, the reality of your situation slowly settling in.

Rafe leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning over your face as if trying to make sure this was all real. A small, cocky smile began to creep onto his lips. “That was… something,” he breathed, his thumb gently brushing against your thigh.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking your head as you tried to gather yourself. “Yeah,” you whispered, your own cheeks still burning, your heart racing for a whole new reason. “Something.”

Just as you were about to say more, the faint creak of the bathroom door opening snapped both of your heads toward the sound.

Panic hit you like a tidal wave, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes widened in horror. You had barely registered the fact that you were still practically naked, tangled in Rafe, when two familiar figures stepped into the bathroom—your dad and Ward Cameron.

The room seemed to freeze for a second. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you stared, wide-eyed, at the two men now standing in front of you. They didn’t even look surprised—more like they had walked in on something they’d been expecting all along.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, your face flushing even redder than it already was. You quickly moved to cover yourself, but it was too late. You’d been caught. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, mortification crashing over you like a wave.

Rafe, equally frozen for a moment, blinked before quickly stepping in front of you, blocking their view as much as possible. “Oh my god, Dad, get out!” he shouted, his voice louder than necessary, sounding more like a demand than a request.

Your dad chuckled first, breaking the silence with a deep, amused laugh that made your embarrassment ten times worse. He exchanged a look with Ward, who simply shook his head with a knowing smile, as if the two of them had been waiting for this moment.

“Well, look at that,” Ward said, his tone full of dry amusement as he turned to face Rafe. “Took you two long enough to finally get along.”

Rafe groaned in frustration, his face flushed as he tried to shield you from view, his hands scrambling to grab his discarded shirt. “Dad, seriously—get out!” he snapped again, his voice full of exasperation.

Your dad shook his head, still chuckling softly. “We’ll give you two a moment,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement as he turned around to leave. “But don’t take too long. The gala’s still going on, after all.”

Ward followed suit, giving one last look over his shoulder, an almost proud smirk on his face. “Nice work, son,” he said, before closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, that did not just happen,” you muttered, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment. You could still hear the faint sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Rafe let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s just… unreal,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, clearly as mortified as you were. “I can’t believe they—”

You cut him off with a shaky laugh, your hands still covering your face. “This is officially the worst way this could have ended.”

Rafe chuckled softly, clearly trying to shake off the awkwardness of the situation. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Yeah, well,” he murmured, his voice light and teasing, “at least they didn’t kill me.”

You let out a weak laugh, finally pulling your hands away from your face to look up at him. “Yet,” you replied, your voice dry as you shook your head. “They didn’t kill you yet.”

Rafe grinned down at you, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “Guess we’ll just have to see how long I can stay alive, huh?”

You laughed again, the tension between you easing just a little. Despite everything—the panic, the embarrassment—there was still that undeniable spark between you, something deeper that neither of you could ignore anymore. Whatever had happened tonight, it had changed everything.

“Let’s just… not talk about this,” you muttered, still trying to shake off the mortification as you grabbed for your clothes, ready to escape the bathroom as fast as possible.

“Deal,” Rafe agreed, already pulling his shirt back on, though his eyes lingered on you with that same heated intensity, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “For now.”

As you straightened your dress and gathered yourself, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, a part of you knowing that whatever came next between you and Rafe, it was going to be far from over.

[ottawacharge]

Jessie Fleming interview: Adapting to the Thorns, her Chelsea exit and pushing for environmental change

Jessy Parker Humphreys, Wednesday, July 24th

Ask Jessie Fleming what topics interest her about the environment and she will start reeling them off.

“Urban planning, the power of funghi, regenerative agriculture, Dan Barber…”

Barber is an American chef who advocates for farm-to-table cooking, in case you are not as looped into the environmental ethics of food as Fleming.

“I started taking courses on environmental science for fun at university and I got down this rabbit hole,” she explains. Fleming ended up minoring in the subject at university in Los Angeles and has been committed to raising awareness about issues with our environment ever since.

This latest pledge comes off the back of her choice to donate the carbon cost of her long-haul flight to the 2023 Women’s World Cup in Australia and New Zealand as part of a 47-player initiative through Common Goal, a charitable movement launched by Spain international Juan Mata six years ago.

Fleming left Women’s Super League (WSL) champions Chelsea in January, going from a league in England where players travel to games by train or coach to one where they can fly thousands of miles across the country every weekend, such is the geographical spread of the 14 teams.

“It’s something I think about a lot,” she says. “As players, we have a responsibility to draw attention to those problems and suggest ways leagues and governing bodies can adjust the format of tournaments or the schedule of leagues to help reduce those footprints.

“We’re all hypocritical in a way, so we need to at least do something.”

There was a feeling around Fleming’s mid-season departure from Chelsea that she had never quite lived up to her potential. Arriving in summer 2020 fresh out of the U.S. college game at UCLA, her stock was very high, having originally made her senior debut for Canada aged only 15.

Yet she never nailed down a starting spot, despite featuring 111 times across four seasons and being trusted by manager Emma Hayes to start crucial matches such as the 2022-23 Champions League semi-final second leg against Barcelona at Camp Nou.

“I loved my time at Chelsea, loved the league, loved England. I just wanted to be in a place where I was consistently playing in the same position and playing more consistent minutes.”

Fleming has certainly got that with Portland, where she has started 13 of their 15 matches so far this season, but the return to the U.S. has been an adjustment. Portland had their worst start to an NWSL season, failing to win any of their first four games and consequently sacking manager Mike Norris. A six-game winning run followed, but with only one victory in the past four league fixtures, it is clear they are still finding their feet as a team.

Those ups and downs are a unique experience for Fleming, who lost only one more league match in three-and-a-half years with Chelsea than she has in six months in Portland.

“It’s definitely a different challenge,” she says. “Physically, it’s more intense (in the NWSL). More transitional, lots of athletic players. But you’re starting to see the effect of European coaches in the league. There are more teams trying to play possession-based, thoughtful football. I’ve never seen anything like how competitive the NWSL is, especially when you look at the teams at the top of the table who had poor seasons last year. That’s not something you would ever see in the WSL.

“The start of the season was especially difficult for us, because we had so many new players. We spent so little time together before the first game — that was a challenge I’d never experienced before. I think we’re feeling the effects of the ebb and flow of the season right now. You have to be so tuned-in mentally for every game, every week. If you do go through a low spell, you have to find ways to turn it around quickly, because getting a few wins will push you up the table.”

The NWSL season is about to be paused for the Olympics, which begin in France at the end of this month, where Fleming will be hoping to help Canada’s women retain the title they won at the previous Games in Japan three years ago. Paris 2024 will be her third Olympics and Canada have won medals at her previous two, taking bronze in Brazil in 2016, but a disappointing World Cup campaign, where they exited at the group stage after one win and two goals (one of them an own-goal) in the three games, has put a dampener on expectations.

“I struggled with penalties a bit at university, so it’s definitely not something I’ve always felt able to do,” she says. “I feel like for that coolness, I have to turn to my team-mates and our environment. I feel very supported and backed up with the national team and that helped me massively during that tournament.”

This time out, she’ll be in a new role as captain. Anyone who has watched Fleming play will know she is not the most vocal on the pitch, but she feels she can bring something different to the role.

“I’m definitely on the quieter side, but I’m learning there are so many different ways to lead,” Fleming says. “I don’t love speaking in front of a loud group of people and I feel like I thrive a bit more when I’m one-on-one with players. I would say I’m a bit of a football brain. I love watching the game, I love talking about tactics, and I’m always interested in how to improve, both as an individual and as a team.

“For me, it’s about letting my passion for football shine through and trying to bring others with me in that.”

[ohforficsake]

The Margay: Chapter 9

Memorize it. Destroy it.

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: ~4.7K

WARNINGS: I'm going to go ahead and flag this chapter as Dark!Frankie / Potential triggers herein for verbal and physical abuse (extreme jealously, manhandling, pinning against a wall, facial bruising, borderline choking), brief mention of self harm/suicidal ideation / Please read with care.

Rating: Explicit 18+ / language / crass mention of sexual acts / mentions of drug use / Minors DNI

A/N: Frankie breaks something.

Finally getting one of these up in time for Frankie Friday. This chapter. Whew this chapter. It came to me months ago. Something that makes you put everything down so you can transcribe this thing from wherever it’s coming from.

chapter moodboard if you're interested

Divider by @cafekitsune!

“Why are you draggin’ me to this, couldn’t you have found someone else?

“I already told you,” Santiago fiddles with his bowtie in a car window reflection. “It’s a favor to the guy who got us this gig in the first place. Needs bodies in the room for this fundraiser. Davis is covering the donation, it’s the fucking least we could do.”

“You coulda brought some girl.”

“Yeah, but I like you on my arm,” Santi quips with a pout and Fish flips him a choice finger.

The room is filled from marble wall to marble wall with standard Washington DC fixtures. The low din of conversation punctuated with the occasional chime of laugher and clink of glass. Diamonds glitter in the low golden light under massive, equally scintillating chandeliers.

Francisco can't help but scan the room as he trails Pope to the nearest proffered tray of champagne glasses, fingers absent-mindedly wrapping around one when it's placed in his hand.

And it's Frankie who sees her first at a distance. Sheathed in a flowing column of white. Black hair is blown out into loose curls that fall down to the middle of her back, face lit up in a laugh.

When she rocks on her feet he notices that her arm is wrapped around a man’s bicep.

Frankie drains the rest of his champagne, slamming the glass down on a hightop table before Pope catches the crook of his elbow and cuts off his path to her. 

“Don’t.”

“Who the fuck is that.”

“The senator who sponsored this thing? That’s his son.”

“That doesn’t make it better, Pope.” 

Audrey hanging off the arm of some spoiled fuckin’ rich kid.

Not that he’s a kid, he’s got a few years on Frankie at least.

But a senator’s son? 

Audrey. 

His Audrey.

Audrey who he’s seen covered in engine grease, cuddling stray cats, trekking through the jungle covered in sweat and blood.

Audrey who warms his bed and angles big green eyes up at him with his spend still coating her thighs.

His Audrey.

She’s clearly playing a game. 

She’s on a job. 

Undercover. 

She’s not herself. 

And she catches him staring heat at her from across the room.

A million watts of light spark across her features and she waves them over.

“Francisco. Behave.” Pope spikes him a warning.

When they weave through bodies to make it to her she greets each with kisses on both cheeks, grip falling subtly to Frankie’s arm as her last kiss lingers. 

“Let me introduce you," she says to the man, "this is Santiago Garcia and Francisco Morales. The boys who’ve been helping me out down there. The Major is, one of my oldest friends.”

“I should thank you both for keeping her safe,” the Major grins. He’s got a California accent and the tan to match.

She gives them his name but Frankie doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy sizing the man up. Guy’s got three? Four inches in height on him at least. Dark black curls, a face that’s weathered enough to betray that he’s never really worked a desk job. Even Frankie can admit he’s handsome. Roman nose, strong brow. But his eyes startle Frankie the most. 

They’re the same color as Audrey’s. 

The exact same shade of green. The effect of it is stunning when they both meet Frankie’s gaze. 

And Catfish can’t get the flash his brain conjures of the two of them tangled in white sheets out from behind his eyelids.

“You look beautiful tonight, Aud,” Pope charms in an attempt to distract from Fish’s tangible simmering.

“I can clean up okay if I have to,” she winks, untangling her arm from this man’s.

“So what is it that you do?” Frankie cuts in, just this side of prickly.

“Marine engineer,” he says, swallowing a mouthful of champagne. “Which is a pretentious way of saying that I spend my days on boats looking for sunken treasure.”

It is an oversimplification at its finest. Because like the three of them, he’s done his fair share of greasing the cogs that keep the world running smoothly.

And like the three of them, he’s greased them with blood.

“I think we could all use refills," Audrey clears her throat, "Frankie, would you be my extra set of hands?”

“‘Course,” he doesn’t realize he grits it out.

Like spitting slivers of glass.

He flattens one broad palm across the small of her back and guides her in front of him in the direction of the bar. He follows close behind, eyes searing into the back of her skull.

The tattoo on her shoulder taunts him where it peeks out from under the seams of her sleeveless dress.

On display for anyone to see.

When they reach the bar, Frankie slots in behind her, the panes of his chest finding her back.

Audrey presses against him with a hum.

She’s nearly his height in heels and he doesn’t have to bend now to whisper in her ear. “A man more dangerous than me?”

“A friend with a Messerschmitt,” she turns to face him, running her hand over his stomach under his jacket.

And he revels in her touch before betraying the way it soothes.

“You fuck all of your friends?”

Frankie can tell there’s history between them that involves more than clunky warplanes and tinkering with old cars and it bubbles up like bile spat out in needless cruelty.

“Only the ones who know what Messerschmitts are,” she tosses back in kind, her tone level in direct defiance of what’s clawing at the back of her throat. 

She turns around again as the bartender approaches and Frankie steps back a hair, breaking contact with her form.

It makes her seethe.

She hands Frankie three glasses of tequila with lime, balanced easily in generous hands, before she sweeps a gin martini off of the bar and leads him back to where Santiago and the man are laughing about something.

Fish hands Santi and glass holds the other out for Audrey, but she sips from the martini without breaking his stare and Frankie instead has to hand it over to the other man.

Messerschmitt. Since Frankie can’t remember his name.

They toast, what a pleasure to meet, happy you boys are keeping Audrey company out there. 

Company.

“Fish, the Major is a pilot, he was Air Force.”

“In my youth,” the man quips.

“I’ve heard,” he drains his glass and doesn’t attempt to continue down the path what Santi has forged for him. 

And so the two of them carry the conversation alone, Frankie staring daggers at Audrey who shoots him the occasional searing glance every time she plucks an olive from the golden skewer in her drink.

A hush falls over the crowd as vainglorious speeches start up.

But Frankie's ears are ringing.

Audrey makes it through one speech before excusing herself to the restroom with a soft hand on Santi’s elbow, and a brush on Messerschmitt’s cuff.

She doesn’t need to alert Frankie because Frankie’s been watching her every move.

He waits five minutes before slipping away in the same direction.

They’re about to pass each other in the hallway when Frankie’s hand shoots out for her bicep, a glance over his shoulder to be sure no one is looking before dragging and shoving roughly to pin her against the wall.

“So is this what you do, when you’re not with me? Fuck senators’ sons?”

“The fact that he’s a senator's son is honestly the most unfortunate thing about him. And what we do is not my being with you. It’s my job.” She presses something soft into his hand. “That’s for you. If you want it.”

Frankie stuffs whatever it is into his jacket pocket and continues.

“And is this part of your job? Hanging off the arms of handsome men in fancy rooms?” He runs his palms down her bare arms before they settle on her hips.

“Sometimes. But I don’t frequent these in my downtime. This is a favor.”

“A favor. To him.”

“Yes.”

“So you don’t make a habit of this? Being this charming.”

“Aw you really think so?” She snarks and Frankie’s hands on her hips slam her back against the wall.

“You like it, don’t you. All of these eyes on you. Driving me insane.” His fingers brush a curl from her cheek. “Don’t play coy, I see how they look at you. Do you beg them for it, Audrey?” 

“They look at me because I’m a novelty in this room, Frankie.” 

And she’s not wrong. She’s a lithe beautiful thing with rich bronze skin in a room of wives and mistresses the same shade of blonde caked in the same shade of orange. She moves through a sea of hungry eyes with comfort precisely because she doesn’t give a fuck about the other men in this room.

Not even really about Messerschmitt. Not now that he’s here.

“You mean you don’t work your way into their beds? Let them fuck you until you’re screaming?”

She scoffs a “no” and Frankie listens but doesn’t hear.

“Is it their money? Their expensive whiskey and the thread count of their sheets that makes you come?”

His hand skates up over her chest, fingers feather-light over the skin of her collarbone that peeks out from under the high neck of her dress.

“Because there’s no way their cocks are satisfying you. That room is rife with overcompensation.” 

Everything to this point has been some twisted form of foreplay.

But Frankie tips.

His hand moves to her neck now, the broad span of it making easy work of fitting around her throat. 

Because some part of him believes this. Believes that Messerschmitt has had her and would have had her tonight if Santi hadn’t dragged him here and it makes him wonder how many others. 

He needs to know how many others. 

Frankie's eyes are blown dark, logic is abandoned in a brain fogged with jealousy. Skin thrumming with possession.

And it’s out before he can catch it.

“How many of them have had you, Audrey?” Rumbled through low registers of his voice.

He uses his index finger to roughly angle her face back to him from where she’s glanced back into the room.

“How many of them have seen you fall apart? Hmm? How many of them have left you shaking?”

His body holds her against the wall, thighs pressed to hers, his elbow jammed painfully in the sparse space between them where he holds her. 

And Audrey just watches, gaze angled down her nose.

Amused.

Frankie’s a man in a trance as he runs the pad of his thumb over the lush of her bottom lip, hot breath following its path.

“Have they seen the way your mouth falls open when you clench around them? Do they know that you can see these little fucking teeth when you do,” he snarls it, sliding his thumb over her top incisors before slipping it farther to slide over her tongue.

He tastes of lime and ozone.

“How many of them have come in this pretty little mouth, Audrey?” Frankie presses down with his thumb to open it wider. 

She could bite down. She could box his ears and take out an eardrum or both. She could throw a knee into his crotch.

She could scream.

She’s not going to.

Not yet.

But she could. 

He adjusts his grip and his middle finger and thumb dig painfully into the space at the hinge of her jaw and he gives her head a small shake, voice dripping with condescension. “Do you swallow for them, or is that just for me?” 

And it should frighten her. The way her sweet soft Frankie has gone dark. 

The way he’s a hair’s breadth away from squeezing down on her pulse.

The way he could crush her jaw with the strength of his hand alone.

But this? 

This is always there. 

Churning under the surface until it heats enough to boil.

It's what she loves about him.

“Do you let them come inside you too? Let them empty their balls into your hot little cunt and leave you dripping?” He shifts one leg to the outside of hers to press her further into the wall with his body.

And it should terrify her, this being caged in, his fingers jammed hard into her mandible as he spits and seethes with equal parts disdain and infatuation.

“Do they fill you up like I do? With as much as I do?”

The hard line of Frankie’s cock pressed against her hip telegraphs unyielding, sick pleasure.

“Do they fuck you better than I do, Audrey?”

“There is no ‘they’ Frankie.”

“Oh? Well then. Does that man. Out there. Fuck you. Better than I do.” His arm twitches with each sentence, moving her head with it.

She should be ashamed of how wet she is.

“Would you let him come down your throat the way that you let me?” 

And she doesn’t dare give him the satisfaction of the truth.

“I know he doesn’t eat you out the way that I do. Doesn’t make you come on his face.” He presses his nose to her cheek, breathing in the scent of her. “I can tell.”

“But I bet he’d still give it to you. If you wanted him to.”

He doesn’t realize that he’s growling with every breath.

“I don’t want...”

“But would he. Fuck you.” 

“Yes.”

And Frankie’s nostrils flare and a breath hisses through his teeth.

His hold on her tightens.

“Yeah, I bet he would. Because you’re a fuckin’ toy. A pretty little plaything to be used when the need strikes and then…” he trails off. “He’d fuck you but he wouldn’t keep you.”

“Yeah—" he growls.

"I wouldn’t either.”

And Frankie says it because he’s frothing with impotence at what he doesn’t have to offer.

Any one of these men could give her the world. 

They paid $14K just to stand in this room. 

But Frankie wouldn’t keep her because Frankie doesn’t deserve her. 

And Frankie makes it her fault. 

Lashing out at her for the way she consumes him.

And all of this. This is trying to prove himself with his body where the rest of him falls short.

Because it’s all he knows.

The Delta who gave his body to the Stars and Stripes in search of validity and purpose and a place in this world. 

And those colors chewed him up and spat him out tasting like a bad back and a coke problem.

But he’s taken it too far now.

Still gripping hard at her jaw.

And her scorpion’s tongue delivers a barb that sticks right in the spot in his brain where he’s regretted it every moment of his existence since that night.

“You going to strangle me again, Francisco?”

The antidote to his fever.

“No,” the grip on her loosens.

The fight drains through the soles of his feet and back to the earth to be transmuted into something that doesn’t destroy.

He breathes without snarling.

And rests his forehead against hers before taking half a step back.

And she tips her face to hover her lips over his but neither of them move any farther.

They just breathe.

Looking like lovers to anyone who is watching.

She brushes a hand over the napkin slipped into his jacket pocket. “Memorize it. Or don’t. But destroy it either way.”

And Audrey slips from between him and the wall.

Frankie doesn’t move to turn around, instead bracing his forearm against wallpaper, listening to her heels on marble as she returns to the bathroom.

“And Frankie,” she calls over her shoulder, staving off the shattering of her voice. “Please be nice.”

He snorts as he spins and leans heavy against drywall, head thudding backwards. He scrubs a palm down his face and breathes deep, trying to bring himself back to even.

Trying to stave off the panic winding around his organs.

Threatening to constrict.

He has no idea what just happened. 

Frantic fingers scramble for the thing in his pocket.

A napkin that he unfolds. 

An address in Alexandria.

Her address.

He storms off to the gents and into a stall, mentally repeating the numbers and letters until it’s ingrained before he drops it in the toilet bowl. Blue ink bleeds into something illegible before he flushes it away.

His stomach turns and for a moment he thinks tequila is going to follow it. 

Frankie breathes in hard through his nose and out with a hiss, storming out of the stall to splash cold water into his face.

He prays he hasn’t left a bruise.

_____

“You good?” Santi whispers when Audrey slips in beside him.

“Yeah, do I look fine?”

He gives her a quick once-over. “Physically, yes. Spiritually?” Pope tips his glass of tequila towards her hand and she drains it as applause breaks out at the end of another speech.

“He okay?”

“Dunno.”

Santiago casts a look over his shoulder towards the bathrooms.

“Come, let me get you another,” he gently presses an open palm to Audrey's elbow, leading her to the bar. 

“Gin and soda.” Santi knows her and joins. “Two."

Santi knows the two of them well enough to hit on what just happened. "That really spun him up, huh?”

“Never meant to. I’ve known the Major for over twenty years, I came as a favor. He’s one of the few people on earth who knows what I actually do.”

“It’s not a fucking crime to be comfortable around someone," she adds in a soft voice. "I had no idea you were going to be here.”

“Sort of a favor on our end as well.” Santiago slips a tip into the glass jar as the bartender slides over two drinks.

Audrey swallows a sip, letting the ice cold liquid chill her burning stomach.

“I was fucking happy when I saw you both.”

And she sounds like she's about to fracture.

“Hey.”

Santi’s eyes are soft, heavy-lidded as is his way when he’s sincere.

“He’s an idiot when it comes to this.”

She scoffs and takes another sip.

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”

“That’s very kind Santi, but I can do it myself.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“No.”

“Yeah, your jaw is starting to bruise.”

“Fuck,” and she adjusts her hair to fall where Frankie’s fingers were with Pope calmly directing her movements.

To anyone else they’re making conversation. 

But to anyone who knows, Pope is fuming and Audrey’s a frayed nerve.

And Messerschmitt knows and Messerschmitt would kill for her, but only if she says the word.

And she doesn’t.

“Let’s get you some food, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She has no appetite but she takes the arm Santi offers because he’s the only person Frankie won’t murder tonight and he guides her towards the nearest waiter with a tray of canapés.

For the first time in the two years that he’s known her, Santi realizes that Audrey can’t take care of herself right now. 

She’s unfocused, eyes darting around the room with none of their usual calculated discernment.

Big, liquid things. Fighting the threat of overflow.

Whatever the fuck Frankie just said.

He broke her. 

And so Santiago spends the rest of the night putting his body between her and Fish, and Fish knows that Santi knows something, the shame of it heating the tips of Frankie’s ears.

Audrey doesn’t stick around long after speeches are through.

She takes her leave after wrapping Santiago in a grateful embrace, kissing Messerschmitt on the cheek, and squeezing Frankie’s arm.

He can tell that was for appearances’ sake and he knows better than to follow right after her.

In the end he plays well in the sandbox. So well, in fact that he strikes up a conversation with the Major. They talk of helicopters and Immelmann maneuvers and they bore Santiago enough that he abandons them for a pretty blonde at the bar.

And Catfish shakes Messerschmitt’s hand when he leaves.

But he still doesn’t know his name.

_____

Frankie crawls back to her at midnight like a shamed thing with his tail between his legs.

She opens the door to find his hands stuffed in his pockets, doe eyes back on full display.

And Audrey wishes she hadn’t handed him that napkin.

But she also wishes for the confirmation that he offers now.

That they’re going to be okay.

In their own, fucked up kind of way.

She invites him inside without saying a word and he doesn’t reach out for her as he steps into darkness.

City lights filter in through large windows, but a candle on the coffee table is the only thing lighting his way.

She’s just been sitting in the dark. 

And he stands in her home that he can’t see, somewhere between her living room and her kitchen, watching her move from the bar to the fridge and back again, still clad in her white evening gown.

Like a ghost in the night. 

She hands him tequila and scoops the dregs of her martini off of the coffee table, downing it before heading for the sink.

He catches her arm on the way, holding her on the tips of his fingers, waiting for her to move. 

She stops but doesn’t lean in. 

“I’m sorry.” Frankie whispers. 

And the candlelight catches in her eyes when she looks to him.

For my jealously. For what I said. The questions I asked. 

For insinuating that you’re a whore.  

But instead “I’m sorry” is all he repeats on a sigh as he lets her go and to his surprise she reaches to wrap an arm around his neck, pressing her body to his, burying her face in his collar.

It takes him a moment before he holds her back, biceps squeezing around her ribs. 

And feeling bursts from his chest with a sob. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’m sorry,” he kisses against her hairline, seeking forgiveness in her mouth. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” is all he gets in return. “Alone.”

And she leaves Frankie standing backlit by city light, looking for all the world like a man-shaped void in her home.

Frankie thinks he should leave.

He wants desperately to run from this pain of his own creation, slip into drink in his own hotel room and pass out on the floor.

It can’t be that hard to find coke in DC.

And the thought scares him enough to make him stay. 

He forces himself to move on legs of lead to collapse on her couch, screwing the heels of his palms into his eyes, listening to water against tile where she’s left the bathroom door open. 

Audrey returns to him in a black linen robe, wet hair smelling of white flowers. 

Darkness unfurls into night-blooming florals.

The same darkness that dry-rots him from the inside out, leaving nothing but a cloud of cheap blow behind every time something collapses.

And her manicured feet enter Frankie’s frame of view, but he doesn’t look up until she kneels down, reaching her hand to cup his scruffy jaw and tip his face to hers.

He’s crying.

She thumbs one tear from his cheek before it’s replaced with another.

Frankie engulfs her hand with his, turning to press a kiss to her palm.

“We don’t work here, Francisco.”

And she skates around her issue to get to the heart of their issue. 

She’ll deal with herself later.

What they have doesn’t belong here. 

In city lights, where people wear diamonds and Rolexes. Where mistresses and wives are the ones making deals to keep everything running smoothly. 

Here where she moves with practiced ease. 

Here where he’s lost in words that don’t mean what they say and smiles that lash instead of soothe.

Where the air draws cruel things from his throat.

“I know.”

They never intended to bring it here.

“Forgive me.” He whispers.

Forgive me the delusion.

“Forgive me, Audrey.”

Forgive me my words.

“Forgive me,” panted against her mouth, foreheads pressed flush.

Forgive me and show me you still care.

Because I don’t. 

Not about my body, not about my soul, and I might damn them both tonight if you don’t forgive me.

But he’s still asking on his behalf.

“Audrey, please. Please,” he sobs. 

I don’t know why I’m like this.

I don’t know where else to go.

Take me back. To before I bruised.

Bruises that blossom on her jaw now in low light.

But bruises were how they started.

And she takes his hands in her own and leads him to her bedroom where she strips layers from him. Rids him of wool and cotton and lays him in linen sheets.

She fits against his back, arm around a chest that can’t find steady breath. Audrey presses kisses to the back of his neck. Strokes his hair until sleep briefly takes him.

Like the warm body that she is.

And in the night he finds her, heated palms on her stomach, pulling her weight to rest on his hips but she peels his fingers from her skin and rolls back to her side of the bed.

He knows why he came here.

To fix what he’s done but he doesn’t know where to start sewing up the damage. 

He ripped too deep.

And Frankie doesn’t know what else to do but offer his body and allow her to take what she needs.

To allow himself to be a body for her to use after his words and his fingers implied she was the same.

And she knows none of it’s true but she can’t help but feel it.

The love she doesn’t know how to give. 

The family she’ll never have because she knows nothing more than how to bring death into the world.

But from where Frankie lies, tonight what she needs isn’t him.

And it brings a fresh, heaving wave of regret to crash through his chest.

_____

“I was engaged once,” she offers hours later as the blue beginnings of dawn start to light the room because she knows Frankie is still awake behind her.

“To him?”

“To a man more dangerous than you.”

“What h— what happened?”

“We were playing house in a home that was never ours.” 

“We’re brutal things. Where he tries now to atone for his sins, I lean into them. We were never set up to work.”

“What does he do.”

And she doesn’t answer that particular question when she starts again.

“He was a Delta too, once upon a time.”

“What was his name?”

“Spencer.”

And it’s like a gift. Frankie knew of a Spencer who had made rank before him. Knew of the whispers that spread like wildfire through barracks of a ghost of a man who could do the impossible and he wonders if they’re one and the same.

Not unlike the woman in his arms.

“And now?”

“Sometimes we find each other on nights that get too dark. Sometimes we save one another.”

Lives and souls.

“But most times we’re nothing more than memories and whispered wishes in each other’s general directions. Each one of us hoping the other is still alive.”

“He would take you back?”

And Frankie doesn’t understand his fixation on this question, because she’s not his and never claimed to be. 

But pieces of her live in the hearts and beds of other men and he desperately wants all of her for himself.

A wildcat in a cage.

A taxidermied husk with glass eyes.

A pelt to drape himself in.

He doesn’t ever ask if she would have them.

“Everyone would take me back, Frankie,” she pulls the duvet up to her ear.

“Because I’m always the one who leaves.”

“Will you leave me?”

It hangs in the air. Unanswered.

And he knows now.

She will leave.

And he will be another man who holds another piece of her.

And she will continue giving away whatever pieces of her that men will take.

Until there’s nothing left.

Nothing but murmured whispers of a ghost.

And pieces of her memory.

_____

When daylight comes, Frankie blinks hard at where sunrise streams through sheers.

Reaching out for warmth before dread blooms in his chest.

Audrey’s gone. 

It’s her house and she’s gone.

And he bolts from the bed, searching for signs that she’ll return. 

But he finds no note, no text, no sign.

Audrey’s left him.

next

_____

Author's Post Script: Messerschmitt and Spencer are actual characters that I've borrowed to play with for a moment, all credit to their original owners. Feel free to slide your guesses into my DMs if you're so inclined. Or just want to chat after all of that.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @toomanytookas @spookyxsam

Also again taking the risk to tag some lovely folks who have shown interest in this here little story. As always, please do let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged:

@tinytinymenace @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @theshensei @iamskyereads @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @soft-persephone @julesonrecord @criticalarchitecture @oliveksmoked @jessthebaker @tanzthompson @youandmeand5bucks @ems-chaos-corner @thethirstwivesclub @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute

Please note that old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here at Ohforficsake.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[lily-alphonse]

I was talking about this earlier with an anon, and now that I've found you, I am intensely curious: How would you make Gus/Willy work?

OLD MEN!!! OLD MAN YAOI MY BELOVED!!!

Gus and Willy are cute. I like this, I can work with this.

They quietly find comfort in each other. The kind of couple that no one really knows is a couple, big “they were roommates” energy, except for the fact that Gus has always been a little loud and fruity (look at his clothing! The mustache?!). But to anyone outside of the loop it could just look like Willy is a very dear friend.

But how does it start?

I feel like I have to plot their romantic pasts to get my head around it.

Gus grew up in the city. Part of the down-low queer scene, he had a few boyfriends. A couple of them felt like they could have been true love until reality hit, and there was nothing true about it.

He found love in his passions instead, in cooking and found family in a place where life moved slower.

I like to think Willy was married once (idk if we ever get any lore to confirm or deny this, im just a silly little fic writer I’ll slap an AU tag on this baby and call it a day if I have to). It was a good, practical marriage but they were never able to have kids, and his wife passed from cancer a long time ago. He left his life behind when she died. The house had always felt more like her’s anyway. He took his boat and sailed away to start a new life in a small town.

He arrived there long before Gus did, but Gus made himself a fixture in the town so much more quickly. What had taken Willy years took Gus mere days. Everyone in town knew his name and smiled when they saw him. Everyone loved his food. A man might’ve been envious at that, but not Willy. He just found it interesting.

So when Gus made his way to the bait shop it was no surprise. What was a surprise was the fact he had brought Willy food.

“Cookies? Shouldn’t I be giftin’ you somethin’, seeing as youre the new neighbor?”

Gus laughed. He had a bright laugh from deep in his chest that made the air around him sparkle. “Sorry! It’s the ultimate way into people’s hearts, I can’t help it.”

Willy hummed in contemplation, looking down at the plate of cookies. “I’ll take these on one condition.”

Gus shifted uncomfortably, uncertain if he was being serious. “That is?”

“You come in and try some of Willy’s famous trout soup!”

Gus laughed again, feeling relieved, and nodded. “Sure. Nice to meet you, Willy.”

“Pleasure to meet you as well, come on in.”

Conversation flows easily between them. Willy is chattier than people think, but especially to Gus. He likes how Gus reacts to his stories, his eyes widening at the good parts. And Yoba, his laugh.

But eventually they see the darker sides of each other, too. Sometimes, Willy gets sullen thinking of the past. Sometimes, Gus gets moody and short-tempered, and needs to be left alone for days. They always come back together, though.

They’ll sit in front of Gus’ fireplace warming themselves. Willy likes that it feels more like a proper home here than his shack. He likes how Gus wears soft cardigans and keeps his house smelling like cinnamon.

They don’t know if this is true love. It might be. Maybe it’s just the closest they will get in this life. But at least it’s warm.

Ow my heart

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[esconpanache]

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At Escon Panache, we believe that true luxury extends beyond exquisite design and prime locations. It encompasses a commitment to sustainable living and ensuring the utmost safety and security for our residents. Here’s how Escon Panache Villas excels in these crucial areas, offering a harmonious blend of eco-friendly practices and cutting-edge security measures.

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Our commitment to sustainability starts with energy efficiency. Escon Panache incorporates advanced energy-saving technologies, including LED lighting, energy-efficient appliances, and high-performance windows. These features significantly reduce energy consumption, lowering your carbon footprint and utility bills.

Renewable Energy Sources

Harnessing the power of renewable energy is at the core of Escon Panache’s sustainability initiatives. Our buildings are equipped with solar panels that generate clean, renewable energy, reducing dependence on non-renewable resources and promoting a greener environment.

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Water is a precious resource, and Escon Panache employs innovative water conservation techniques. Our properties feature rainwater harvesting systems, low-flow fixtures, and efficient irrigation systems that minimize water usage while maintaining lush, green landscapes.

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Effective waste management is essential for a sustainable community. Escon Panache implements comprehensive recycling programs, composting systems, and waste segregation practices that minimize landfill contributions and encourage responsible waste disposal.

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At Escon Panache, the safety and security of our residents are paramount. We employ state-of-the-art technologies and robust security measures to ensure a secure living environment.

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Our properties are equipped with advanced 24/7 surveillance systems, including high-definition CCTV cameras strategically placed throughout the premises. These systems are monitored by trained security personnel, ensuring constant vigilance and quick response to any incidents.

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Escon Panache prioritizes controlled access to enhance security. Our gated communities feature secure entry points with biometric or keycard access systems, ensuring that only authorized residents and guests can enter the premises.

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Trained security personnel are present round-the-clock to maintain a safe environment. Our security team is equipped to handle emergencies and provide assistance to residents, offering peace of mind at all times.

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Fire safety is a critical aspect of our security strategy. Escon Panache is equipped with modern fire detection and suppression systems, including smoke detectors, fire alarms, and sprinkler systems, ensuring prompt response and minimizing risk in case of a fire.

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Escon Panache has comprehensive emergency preparedness plans in place. Regular drills and training sessions are conducted to ensure that residents and staff are well-prepared to handle emergencies efficiently and effectively.

Secure Parking Facilities

Our secure parking facilities are designed to protect your vehicles. Equipped with surveillance cameras and controlled access, our parking areas provide a safe environment for residents’ vehicles, preventing unauthorized access and theft.

Experience the Escon Panache Difference

Escon Panache Villas are more than just a residence; it’s a commitment to a better lifestyle. Our focus on sustainable living and unwavering dedication to safety and security create an environment where residents can thrive with peace of mind. Discover the Escon Panache difference, where luxury living meets responsible practices and top-tier security in its 4 BHK Villas in Greater Noida.

Visit Escon Panache today and embrace a lifestyle that’s safe, secure, and sustainable. Your future awaits.

Visit:-https://esconpanache.com/

Ref:-https://esconpanachevilla.blogspot.com/2024/06/elevating-lifestyle-standards-escon.html

Location: Greater Noida, Uttar Pradesh, India

[avivakeeoniterio]

BEST WASHROOM INTERIOR- Avivakeon Interio

Best washroom interior with Avivakeeon Interio

Introduction to Washroom Interior Design with Avivakeeon Interio

In crafting an impeccable washroom space, Avivakeeon Interio emerges as a name synonymous with elegance and innovation. Specializing in washroom interior design, this esteemed company transforms mundane spaces into luxurious havens. Avivakeeon Interio prides itself on delivering tailored solutions that reflect each client's unique style and preference. By blending contemporary aesthetics with functional design elements, it ensures that everywashroom interior is not only visually stunning but also highly practical—a perfect balance for modern living.

Washroom Design

Designing a washroom that seamlessly balances both style and functionality is a sophisticated endeavor. A captivating washroom interior can elevate the overall ambiance of a home while ensuring practicality. Herein lies the complexity, as these two crucial aspects must be finely intertwined. Avivakeeon Interio stands at the forefront of this intricate craftsmanship, providing state-of-the-art solutions that marry function with beauty.

Importance of Functionality and Aesthetics

Functionality and aesthetics are the cornerstones of excellent washroom design. A well-designed washroom does far more than serve a basic utilitarian need; it enhances the everyday experience through its design elements. Recognizing customer needs, Avivakeeon Interio emphasizes easy access combined with an elegant design.

- Efficient Layouts: Ensuring plumbing access and fitting arrangements are both stylish and user-friendly is a key mechanical objective. Everything from the placement of the sink to the toilet and shower stall must be practical without sacrificing elegance.

- Storage Solutions: Clever storage systems such as concealed shelves or spacious under-sink cabinets effectively reduce clutter, maintaining the washroom’s sleek look.

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Modern washroom designs increasingly integrate cutting-edge materials and technologies, redefining traditional limits. Avivakeeon Interio utilizes the latest innovations to ensure washroom interiors remain at the pinnacle of contemporary design.

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- 3D Visualization: Avivakeeon Interio offers 3D visualization tools to provide a preview of renovation outcomes, allowing clients to make informed choices that align with their vision.

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Sustainability has evolved from a design trend to an essential design philosophy. Modern consumers increasingly prioritize eco-friendly materials and sustainable practices, which Avivakeeon Interio fully embraces.

- Water Efficiency: Innovative water-saving fixtures such as dual-flush toilets and low-flow showerheads reduce water usage significantly without compromising performance.

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- Natural Lighting: Incorporating natural lighting can reduce electricity dependency while enhancing the washroom’s ambiance—a blend of functionality and environmental consciousness that Avivakeeon Interio champions.

Avivakeeon Interio's Unique Approach

Avivakeeon Interio is synonymous with exceptional washroominteriors. Their unique approach ensures that every washroom design they conceive is a blend of artistry and practicality, tailored to satisfy their clients' unique tastes and needs.

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The hallmark of Avivakeeon Interio’s service is its commitment to customization and personalization. Recognizing that every client possesses distinct preferences and requirements, they offer bespoke solutions that resonate with individual stylistic choices.

- Personal Taste Consultation: Clients are closely involved in the planning phase, where expert designers provide insights and suggestions based on the client’s lifestyle and aesthetic desires.

- Tailored Features: From custom vanities to unique tile designs, Avivakeeon Interio ensures each element reflects personal preference without detracting from overall functionality.

Integrating Modern and Classic Styles

Avivakeeon Interio distinguishes itself by seamlessly blending modern innovations with classic styles, thereby creating timeless washroom spaces that never fall out of vogue.

- Eclectic Mix: This blend might involve the juxtaposition of sleek modern fixtures with vintage decor elements, or a contemporary minimalist layout complemented by classic tiling patterns.

- Harmonious Balance: The integration process does not favor one style over the other; rather, it respects both to create a cohesive design that stands the test of time.

Focus on Quality and Durability

In washroom design, quality and durability are non-negotiable, because these spaces must withstand moisture and frequent usage. Avivakeeon Interio prioritizes these elements without compromise.

- Top-tier Materials: Utilization of high-quality materials such as corrosion-resistant alloys for fixtures and robust countertops ensures longevity and resilience.

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- Long-Term Client Satisfaction: By focusing on quality, Avivakeeon Interio guarantees their clients are satisfied not only today but for years to come, establishing an investment in a washroom space that remains pleasing and effective through the test of time.

In conclusion, transforming a washroom into a space that embodies both beauty and practicality necessitates a thorough understanding of design fundamentals, innovative technologies, and a sustainable approach. Avivakeeon Interio has mastered the art of creating exquisite washroom interiors by focusing on customization, skillfully merging different styles, and ensuring durability. These elements collectively contribute to a luxurious, yet functional, sanctuary that reflects both modern advancements and timeless elegance.

Transforming Your Washroom: Step-by-Step Guide

Embarking on a washroom renovation journey can be both exhilarating and daunting. With Avivakeeon Interio's expertise, transforming your washroom into a personal sanctuary is within reach. This step-by-step guide will walk you through the essentials, ensuring a comprehensive makeover that seamlessly blends function with style.

Initial Assessment and Planning

The linchpin of any successful renovation project is a thorough assessment and meticulous planning. Begin by critically analyzing the existing space: Is it maximized for functionality, or does it fall short in addressing your needs? Consider factors such as the size of the washroom, the current layout, and any specific issues that need attention.

Once you have a clear picture of the space, set objectives for the transformation. Do you wish to enhance the aesthetic appeal, improve storage, or upgrade fixtures for better efficiency? Consulting with professional interior designers from Avivakeeon Interio can provide valuable insights and ensure that your vision is achievable within your budget. Create a detailed timeline and budget, accounting for all potential expenses to avoid unexpected costs down the line.

Choosing the Right Color Palette and Fixtures

The choice of color palette and fixtures can significantly influence the ambiance of your washroom. A well-chosen color scheme can make a small bathroom appear larger and more inviting. Neutral tones such as whites, beiges, and light grays provide a clean and timeless backdrop, whereas bolder colors can be used to infuse character and warmth.

Select fixtures that complement your chosen palette and match the overall design theme. Modern minimalist designs often feature sleek, angular fixtures in silver or matte black, while a more traditional setting might favor vintage-style faucets and clawfoot tubs. When choosing materials, prioritize durability and ease of maintenance. Opt for high-quality finishes that resist rust and wear, ensuring longevity.

At Avivakeeon Interio, state-of-the-art technology and design aesthetics converge, providing customized fixture solutions that cater to your preference whether you lean towards contemporary or classic styles.

Incorporating Storage Solutions and Accessories

An organized washroom exudes a sense of calm and order, making efficient storage solutions imperative. Consider built-in shelving, vanity units with integrated storage, or wall-mounted cabinets to maximize available space without compromising on style.

- Vanity Units: Opt for vanities with deep drawers and compartments to house toiletries and towels neatly.

- Open Shelving: Ideal for displaying decorative items or storing frequently used items for quick access.

- Over-the-Toilet Storage: Utilize vertical space with slender cabinetry above the toilet.

Accessories can further enhance the functionality and aesthetic of your washroom. Incorporate elements like stylish towel bars, decorative mirrors, and artful lighting to personalize the space. Select these accessories to blend with your design theme for a cohesive look.

With Avivakeeon Interio's comprehensive approach to washroom design, integrating innovative storage options and accessories becomes a streamlined process, culminating in a space that is both beautiful and practical. Transform your washroom into an oasis with Avivakeeon Interio's expertise, creating an inviting retreat that mirrors your personal style.

Conclusion: Elevate Your Space with Avivakeeon Interio

In summation, Avivakeeon Interio stands at the forefront of washroom interior design, offering innovative solutions for a complete bathroom makeover. By partnering with Avivakeeon Interio, you can achieve a washroom that combines functionality with aesthetics. Whether it's sleek bathroom fixtures or harmonious color palettes, Avivakeeon Interio ensures every aspect of your washroom is meticulously crafted to perfection. Transform your bathroom into a luxurious retreat and experience the unparalleled elegance that only Avivakeeon Interio can provide.

[wumpasluggs]

Slu̶̫͠g̴̼͝gs. Slimy So̶̬͛f̶͚͊t Sluggs. I oo̷̘͝ź̴͙e̷̫͌ toȍ̷̢.

I invade. I cor̶͖̉r̷̗͝u̷̪̓p̷͇̽t. My fruiting bodies leak the here̴͔͆s̸̡̿y of full com̶̯̀m̸̠̂ȕ̸̩nion.

Unity of the fil̷͙͘t̷̩̐h. Scattering bles̷̭̿s̵̤̈́i̴̙͝n̵͍͠gs like dead skin cells. Within me stirs your co̵̞͐r̶̩̃e̶̻̍. Low-fidelity imĩ̷͎t̷̻̕a̵̺̋ť̶̲ion. My suppurating kĭ̴͈s̸̠̈s̷̥̈ for its forehead.

What mō̸̺r̴̭̊t̶̞̔al fixture could frame our symm̵̗̑e̸͍͋t̸̺͠r̶͍̂y̴̬̓ now?

You may stay as lọ̵̆n̶͇͒g as you wish.

Only we may flow tog̵͈̽é̷͍t̴͉̄h̶̬͘er somewhat, in fullness of days.

And I will not hold it malicious, if togetherness frightens y̷͈̕ơ̸̩u̵̗͌.

-🦠

I think I'll stay a long while I would like to embrace the togetherness the singularity now that I am in here with you i might just ooze too thinking about fruiting bodies and the inevitable infection and my core you can feel that?? In this ethereal other space rotting away

[candidscape]

Eco-Friendly Interior Design: Sustainable Solutions for Your Home

As awareness of environmental issues grows, eco-friendly interior design is becoming increasingly popular. This approach not only enhances the aesthetic appeal of your home but also contributes to a more sustainable and healthier environment. Here’s how you can embrace sustainable solutions in your interior design:

1. Choose Sustainable Materials

Opt for materials that are eco-friendly and have a minimal environmental impact. Look for:

Bamboo: A rapidly renewable resource used for flooring, furniture, and decor.

Recycled Glass: Ideal for countertops and tiles, recycled glass reduces waste and adds a unique touch.

Reclaimed Wood: Salvaged from old buildings or furniture, reclaimed wood offers a rustic charm and helps reduce deforestation.

2. Opt for Low-VOC Paints

Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs) in traditional paints can negatively impact indoor air quality. Choose low-VOC or no-VOC paints that are less harmful and contribute to a healthier living environment. Many eco-friendly paint options come in a wide range of colors and finishes, so you don’t have to compromise on style.

3. Incorporate Energy-Efficient Lighting

Energy-efficient lighting solutions not only reduce your energy bills but also minimize your environmental footprint. Consider:

LED Bulbs: They use up to 90% less energy than traditional incandescent bulbs and have a longer lifespan.

Smart Lighting Systems: These systems allow you to control lighting remotely and set schedules to minimize energy use.

4. Use Sustainable Fabrics

When selecting textiles for your home, choose fabrics that are both stylish and sustainable. Options include:

Organic Cotton: Grown without harmful chemicals, organic cotton is soft and eco-friendly.

Hemp: A durable and versatile fabric that requires minimal water and pesticides.

Recycled Polyester: Made from recycled plastic bottles, it helps reduce waste and can be used for upholstery and curtains.

5. Invest in Energy-Efficient Appliances

Modern appliances that are ENERGY STAR® rated use less energy and water, helping you reduce your household’s carbon footprint. Look for energy-efficient models for your refrigerator, dishwasher, washing machine, and other appliances.

6. Embrace Upcycling and Repurposing

Give old furniture and decor a new life through upcycling and repurposing. This approach reduces waste and adds unique character to your home. Consider:

Painting or Reupholstering Furniture: Transform outdated pieces into stylish, custom creations.

Repurposing Materials: Use reclaimed materials for DIY projects, such as creating a coffee table from an old door or shelves from wooden pallets.

7. Integrate Indoor Plants

Indoor plants not only enhance the aesthetic appeal of your home but also improve air quality by filtering pollutants. Opt for low-maintenance plants like snake plants, pothos, or peace lilies, which are known for their air-purifying properties.

8. Choose Sustainable Flooring Options

Eco-friendly flooring options can dramatically change the look and feel of your space. Consider:

Cork Flooring: Made from the bark of cork oak trees, it’s renewable and offers natural insulation.

Linoleum: Made from natural materials like linseed oil and wood flour, it’s biodegradable and comes in various colors and patterns.

Recycled Carpet: Made from recycled materials, such as plastic bottles, it provides comfort while reducing waste.

9. Implement Water-Saving Fixtures

Conserving water is an essential aspect of eco-friendly design. Install:

Low-Flow Faucets and Showerheads: These fixtures reduce water usage without sacrificing performance.

Dual-Flush Toilets: Offer two flushing options to minimize water consumption.

10. Support Local and Artisan Products

Choose locally-made and artisan products to reduce transportation emissions and support local economies. Local artisans often use sustainable practices and materials, adding a unique touch to your home while minimizing your environmental impact.

By integrating these eco-friendly interior design solutions, you can create a home that reflects your commitment to sustainability while enjoying a stylish and comfortable living space. Embracing these practices not only benefits the environment but also promotes a healthier lifestyle for you and your family.

[windriverviewcampground]

Sustainable RV Travel: Eco-Friendly Tips for Visiting Boulder, WY

Welcome to Wind River View Campground, your ideal base for eco-friendly adventures in the heart of Boulder, Wyoming. Nestled by the picturesque Fremont Lake, our campground offers a range of accommodations from full hookup RV sites to unique renovated sheep wagon camps. As you prepare for your stay, embracing sustainable RV travel not only enhances your experience but also helps preserve the stunning landscapes of Wyoming for future generations. Here are some practical tips for maintaining an eco-friendly lifestyle while enjoying the natural beauty around Boulder.

1. Choose Sustainable RV Parks

When selecting long-term RV parks in Wyoming, opt for those with strong environmental practices. At Wind River View Campground, we are committed to sustainability and minimizing our ecological footprint. Look for parks that offer:

Recycling Programs: Ensure the park has facilities for recycling common waste materials like paper, plastics, and glass.

Energy-Efficient Facilities: Choose parks with energy-efficient lighting and water-saving fixtures.

Waste Management: Parks should have clear waste disposal guidelines and provide options for composting organic waste.

2. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

The principles of reducing, reusing, and recycling can greatly impact your RV travel experience:

Reduce: Minimize waste by bringing only what you need. Avoid single-use plastics and opt for reusable items like water bottles, shopping bags, and utensils.

Reuse: Invest in durable products that can be used repeatedly. For example, reusable containers and cloth napkins can replace disposable options.

Recycle: Sort your waste into appropriate recycling bins provided by the campground or local facilities.

3. Conserve Energy

Energy conservation is crucial when traveling in an RV. Here are some tips to keep your energy consumption in check:

Use Solar Power: Equip your RV with solar panels to harness renewable energy. This reduces reliance on fossil fuels and can help power your appliances while minimizing your impact on the grid.

Turn Off Lights and Appliances: When not in use, switch off lights, appliances, and electronics. Utilize LED bulbs for energy efficiency.

Optimize Your Air Conditioning and Heating: Use fans and ventilation to reduce the need for air conditioning. When heating, ensure your RV is well-insulated to maintain warmth efficiently.

4. Practice Water Conservation

Conserving water is essential in maintaining the health of natural ecosystems and ensuring a sustainable future. Follow these practices:

Shorten Showers: Limit shower time and consider installing a low-flow showerhead in your RV to reduce water usage.

Fix Leaks: Regularly check for and repair any leaks in your RV’s plumbing system to avoid water waste.

Use Water-Efficient Fixtures: Equip your RV with water-saving fixtures and appliances to minimize consumption.

5. Respect Wildlife and Natural Habitats

While exploring the natural wonders around Boulder, it’s vital to respect the wildlife and their habitats:

Follow Trail Guidelines: Stick to designated trails to prevent habitat destruction and minimize your impact on local flora and fauna.

Keep a Safe Distance: Observe wildlife from a distance to avoid disturbing them. Use binoculars or a camera with a zoom lens for a closer look.

Leave No Trace: Pack out all trash and follow the Leave No Trace principles to ensure you leave the environment as you found it.

6. Support Local and Sustainable Businesses

Enhance your eco-friendly travel experience by supporting local businesses that prioritize sustainability:

Local Farmers and Markets: Shop at farmers' markets and local stores for fresh produce and artisanal goods. This supports the local economy and reduces the carbon footprint associated with long-distance food transport.

Eco-Friendly Eateries: Dine at restaurants that practice sustainable sourcing and waste reduction. Many local eateries in towns like Pinedale and Jackson Hole emphasize environmental responsibility.

7. Engage in Eco-Friendly Activities

Make the most of your stay at Wind River View Campground by engaging in activities that align with sustainable travel practices:

Hiking and Biking: Explore the trails around Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone National Park on foot or by bike. These low-impact activities allow you to enjoy the scenery without contributing to pollution.

Fishing and Boating: When enjoying Fremont Lake, follow regulations and guidelines for sustainable fishing and boating. Use environmentally friendly products and avoid disrupting aquatic ecosystems.

Wildlife Observation: Participate in wildlife observation tours that emphasize conservation and responsible viewing practices.

8. Educate and Inspire Others

Share your commitment to sustainable travel with fellow campers and travelers. By raising awareness and setting an example, you can inspire others to adopt eco-friendly practices:

Share Tips and Experiences: Discuss your sustainable travel practices with others and offer tips for reducing environmental impact.

Promote Sustainable Parks: Advocate for parks and campgrounds that prioritize sustainability and encourage friends and family to choose eco-friendly options.

Conclusion

At Wind River View Campground, we are dedicated to providing an exceptional experience while preserving the natural beauty of Boulder, Wyoming. By adopting these sustainable RV travel tips, you can contribute to the protection of our environment and enhance your overall travel experience. From reducing waste and conserving energy to supporting local businesses and respecting wildlife, every small action counts towards a more sustainable future. We look forward to welcoming you to our campground and helping you explore the breathtaking landscapes of Wyoming in an eco-friendly way. Safe travels and happy camping!

[raytm]

the warmth of suguru's frame beneath him is not unfamiliar. he feels that he's been here many times before, tucked away in some nondescript hotel room for the night with the lights turned down low and the body of his former friend keeping him steady. a pleasant ache has eased thru satoru's limbs, body sore, sweaty - and he could definitely use a shower after all of that... but as always, it was hard pressed to peel the sorcerer away from the one beneath him, his tactile being far too sweetened with the afterglow to allow suguru to leave him... again. usually they part - sometimes quickly, sometimes hours later when satoru has eased out of the comfort of his space and the the bleak reality of a world without suguru.

hands curl, long fingers flexing into the other's chest - as satoru looks upwards, paying no mind when snow white hair dips in front of glowing blue eyes. on the battlefield - gojo satoru is god incarnate, a being with the beck and call of the void at his fingertips, able to see all. he is untouchable, nigh on feral, and curses merely tremble in his wake. but like this... like this he is pliant, serene, and his limpid gaze is so terribly sad - so filled with want as he presses closer, closer, closer, ensuring geto's dark gaze is pierced beneath his own.

something boils in his chest, something he knows he shouldn't say, knows he shouldn't even think... but the world is different with suguru, everything narrowed down to this tiny hotel room and their kiss stained flesh, shattered upon the altars of antithetical ideals and satoru being unable to follow. so he speaks... softly, whisper quiet, almost imperceptible in sound level: " come back. " he croaks, voice just a touch hoarse, lacking in it's usual pomp, " come back, suguru. " it comes again, a little louder this time, " and we can... we can... " bright blue cast in shadow, as his eyes drift shut. " it never had to be this way. "

Once, their lives had been inextricably connected, those idyllic days belonged to times foregone. It was unfeasible that there could be a time where Satoru Gojo was banished from his mind, a formidable opponent within his warring heart. Even if he defected, turning his back on those antiquated ideals & the abhorrent fossils who governed them, he would never be free of Satoru’s apparition. It did not matter if they were enemies, standing on antithetical paths rather than friends, his dark, forlorn gaze would seek him out in moments of quiet & still feel the ache of his absence when he was met with silence. To have him in this carnal way, satiating the festering hollow within him with starved kisses & ravening teeth, had become curative. Suguru couldn’t allow the chance for that deprivation to impede him, even as he drew back on his clothing & allowed his gaze to follow the path he’d taken in departure, he understood this. It was never a possibility for him to efface the other from his life, he understood that too. Long, lithe fingers curl against his chest, the pressure enough to hold him present. Satoru’s gaze was distant & limpid, purling, fierce blue. Earning his gaze was a portent of harrowing defeat, he was a god-like incarnation, the world ebbing & flowing around the places his fingers commanded. In this nondescript hotel room, with its off-white sheets & its low hanging light fixtures, he was delineated with an intense sorrow. It was compelling enough to slither around his ribs, settle in the apertures around his heart & tighten. His next breath was tremulous, akin to a long-held sigh. “ Satoru.” it’s a heady voice that calls his name, once breathless & impregnated with lust, now it evinces the exhaustion that had festered within him for all of those years. Even with that conviction & his antipathy to jujutsu society, how could he ignore the way his confident lilt waned into a sound not unlike a plea. It was as if the revered Suguru Geto was admonishing him. “ You as well as I know the reasons why that cannot be.”

His hand reaches out, rests the back of it against the pallor of his cheek, he doesn’t balk before him. “ How would things change for us if I returned ?” it’s spoken softly, as if he were appeasing his wounded heart. “ From a place amongst their ranks all we can do is as they say & die a death they approve of.” A sentiment of remorse curves at the corners of his mouth, he has never regretted his decision of leaving, only that it was Satoru who was left behind. “ Would it not be selfish if I asked you the same thing ?” a half-mast gaze cast upon him, dark eyes immuring. “ What would you do Satoru ? If I asked you to leave.” 

[molinabiancavalentina]

MODERN HISTORY

1ST BLOG _The Irvine Company - James Irvine / RELEVANT FIGURE

The Irvine Company is known for its commitment to water conservation and sustainability in its real estate developments. For more than 150 years, The Irvine Company has sought and implemented innovative ways to conserve and protect Irvine's precious water resources at Irvine Ranch. Today, The Irvine Company is a privately held real estate investment company governed by an independent board of directors. The Irvine Company is recognized for its master planning and environmental stewardship of Irvine Ranch in Orange County, including diversified operations throughout coastal California. As you can understand, the James Irvine Organization had a great relevance in the area of water conservation by creating several dams and reservoirs in the various streams of the Irvine Ranch, because of this generous inversion that had a long with it many benefits for the earth and its environment, we must remember that water is an important resource for the environment, so whatever it has positive repercussions on it will be positive in general.

James Irvine was a pioneer of California agriculture, building his family's Southern California ranch into one of the state's earliest and most productive large-scale agricultural enterprises. During the "Great Drought" of the 1860s, James Irvine and three partners purchased the land that would become the Irvine Ranch. Droughts plagued Southern California and the ranch for the rest of the century. Between 1920 and 1940, the Irvine Company spent millions on water development and conservation. This included drilling hundreds of wells and constructing a series of dams and reservoirs on the ranch's various streams. Later, the Irvine Company began widespread use of water-saving fixtures - such as low-flow showerheads and toilets - in homes, hotels, and office buildings in Irvine and elsewhere on the Irvine Ranch. In the 2000s, the use of reclaimed water throughout Irvine was made even more effective by the company's commitment to state-of-the-art irrigation systems that include "smart" irrigation controllers, drip and low-flow water delivery devices, and satellite-based weather data controls, among other technologies.

IMPORTANT PERSON: James Irvine - Bought the land where the Irvine Ranch is located and where the Irvine Company was founded.

The company was founded by James Irvine (Irvine family) and is currently 100% owned by Donald Bren. Because the company is privately held, its financial information is not available to the public. However, Bren is the richest real estate developer in the United States with a net worth of $15.3 billion as of April 2021. But if we must talk about numbers, I will mention some of the people involved in the company, referred to as the “Executive Group”:

Executive Committee: Charles Fedalen Jr, Frank Abeling, Mare Ley and Jonathan Brinsden.

Real Estate Division Executives: Roger DeWames, Ken Gillet, Todd Keller, Alan Parkin, Roger Ploum, Teresa Prestwood and Tom Sullivan.

Corporate Executives: Gino Bianchini, Rob Elliott, Mark Henigan, Paul Hernandez, Jason Maxwell, Bryan Stevens, Darren Thomas, Kevin Wagner and Abe Wong.

The Irvine Company converted the community's irrigation system to recycled water in March, saving an estimated 7.3 million gallons of potable water annually.

The result of this company's actions was that they helped to start recycling water in a high percentage by including it in their multi-family houses, since they are involved in this area, and the water saving forms they included were like an extra benefit.  The impact it had on the level of public service for what they sold was high because it was more convenient and environmentally friendly for the customer who was thinking of buying the commercial properties offered. Since the impact was great, the water conservation started to bring something serious in between people who actually think of acquiring one of their services the company offers.

The relevance that this company has today is that it is concerned that water is not wasted by unconscious people, although this company cannot simply force these people to conserve water, at least they try to give a message of awareness to these people. Currently, water conservation is almost zero, especially in countries like Chad or Angola, because in these countries there is not enough drinking water for all the people who live there, this is where the great benefit that this company gives to the responsible use of water comes in.

For resuming all this relationship between the Irvine Company and water conservation, it's very smart from their part to start this kind of good things since they not only gained more customers and clients but also get benefits from the environment we live since is like we are starting to solve this big problem we all know about water consumption by starting to conserve it. Although this company is not so well known by the young people of today, there is no doubt that the owner of this idea had a very good purpose in risking his money with something that could help save water and reduce the level of waste of this important resource. Really, this is something that the young people of today should admire.