#senior living construction management

[constructionmanagementusa]

Senior Living Construction: Best Practices in Project Management

Building senior living communities requires careful planning, attention to detail, and strong project management. These projects are unique because they must provide safe, comfortable, and accessible spaces for older adults. Managing a senior living construction project effectively ensures quality results, timely completion, and cost efficiency. Here are some best practices in project management for senior living construction.

1. Thorough Planning and Site Selection

The success of a senior living construction project starts with proper planning and selecting the right location. The site should be accessible, close to medical facilities, and in a peaceful environment. Project managers should conduct feasibility studies, analyze land conditions, and ensure compliance with local zoning regulations. Proper planning helps avoid delays and unexpected costs later in the project.

2. Understanding the Needs of Seniors

Senior living communities must be designed to cater to the specific needs of older adults. Project managers should work closely with architects and designers to create safe and comfortable spaces. Features such as wide hallways, non-slip flooring, ramps, and grab bars should be incorporated. Accessibility, emergency response systems, and adequate lighting are also essential. Consulting with healthcare professionals and caregivers during the planning phase ensures that all requirements are met.

3. Strong Budget and Cost Management

Managing costs effectively is crucial for any construction project. Senior living facilities require high-quality materials and special design considerations, which can increase costs. A detailed budget should include all expenses, from materials and labor to permits and inspections. Project managers should monitor expenses regularly and make adjustments when needed to stay within budget. Cost-saving strategies, such as bulk purchasing and value engineering, can help manage finances effectively.

4. Efficient Scheduling and Timeline Management

Timely project completion is essential to prevent budget overruns and meet occupancy deadlines. Construction managers should create a detailed schedule that outlines each phase of the project, from site preparation to final inspection. Using project management software helps track progress and identify potential delays. Regular meetings with contractors and stakeholders ensure that everyone stays on track and issues are addressed promptly.

5. Ensuring Quality and Safety Standards

Safety and quality are top priorities in senior living construction. Project managers should enforce strict safety guidelines to protect workers and future residents. Regular quality inspections ensure that the construction meets all building codes and standards. Hiring experienced contractors and using high-quality materials help ensure long-term durability. Quality assurance teams should check plumbing, electrical systems, and structural integrity before project completion.

6. Sustainable and Energy-Efficient Construction

Sustainability is becoming a key factor in modern construction. Energy-efficient senior living communities reduce operational costs and create healthier environments for residents. Project managers should incorporate green building practices such as solar panels, energy-efficient lighting, and water-saving fixtures. Using eco-friendly materials and improving insulation can enhance comfort while reducing energy consumption.

7. Effective Communication and Collaboration

Clear communication between project managers, architects, contractors, and stakeholders ensures smooth project execution. Regular meetings and progress reports keep everyone informed. Using digital tools like project management software and cloud-based document sharing improves collaboration. Addressing concerns promptly helps prevent misunderstandings and keeps the project on schedule.

8. Regulatory Compliance and Licensing

Senior living facilities must adhere to strict regulations and health standards. Project managers should be familiar with local building codes, fire safety regulations, and accessibility requirements. Obtaining the necessary permits and approvals early in the process prevents legal issues and delays. Working with regulatory agencies and inspectors ensures compliance throughout the construction phase.

9. Technology Integration for Smart Living

Modern senior living communities benefit from advanced technology solutions that enhance safety and convenience. Project managers should integrate smart home systems, emergency call buttons, and automated lighting into the design. Security systems such as CCTV and keyless entry add another layer of protection for residents. Planning for future technological upgrades ensures long-term usability.

10. Post-Construction Evaluation and Handover

Once construction is complete, a thorough evaluation is necessary to ensure everything meets the required standards. A final walkthrough with stakeholders helps identify any remaining issues. Project managers should provide training to staff on how to operate systems and handle maintenance. Gathering feedback from early residents helps improve future senior living projects.

Conclusion

Effective project management in senior living construction is essential for delivering safe, high-quality, and cost-efficient communities. By focusing on careful planning, strong budget management, quality control, and sustainability, construction managers can ensure successful project completion. Clear communication, regulatory compliance, and technology integration further enhance the living experience for seniors. With these best practices, senior living facilities can provide a comfortable and secure environment for older adults.

[thewritergx]

Gentle Torture: Dbf!JoelxF!Reader

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Joel Miller loses every ounce of restraint when a high school senior moves in next door. Pre-Outbreak

Warnings: Smut: Age Gap (Joel in his late 30s, reader starts out at 18), Dbf!Joel, Fingering, Kissing. Curse words, Drinking, Party.

Word Count: 4.5 K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I have been obsessed with the dbf trope lately. This story is very much inspired by @pearlessance. Please go check her out.

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

Joel Miller could not believe all the choices he made in life had led him…here. Standing above you, your legs sprawled out, pussy wet and glistening for him. He hated where he was right now. He hated that he loved it so much, watching as you quivered at his touch. Hated that he craved you every goddamn waking hour of his life. He fucking hated you for being so innocent, so irresistible. It was a gentle torture, something he never experienced in his thirty plus years of life.

By all accounts, he was a good man. Sure, he had been arrested a few times as a teenager, won (and lost) some bar fights, and broke a few women's hearts. That did not make him a bad man, at least he had hoped not. He had made an honest, decent life. He had flaws like any other man, but he knew deep down he would die for those he loved, no questions asked. That had to count for something.

He was sure he was a good man, but when Joel laid his head to sleep at night, his mind always led him down that bad bad place. He closed his eyes and flashes of you in perfect little bikinis, tight crop tops (the ones where your nipples set perfectly visible and erect for everyone to see), and those tiny denim shorts tortured his mind. Thoughts of you had plagued him, clouding his mind and hardening his cock over and over again for months. 

It had not started out this way, not in the slightest. Over a year ago, you and your father, David, had moved in next door. At first, he had not paid much attention to the new additions next door. Sure, he introduced himself, shaking your father’s hand and giving you a light smile and wave. But there was not much interaction after that. Not until some remodeling was needed on your home. Joel being a construction worker was obviously convenient for your father. David had never been much of a handyman himself, so Joel was the first person he came to for help. 

“Your dad says you want to paint your room?” was the first sentence Joel had actually spoken to you, his voice smooth and raspy all at the same time. It sent chills through you, an innocent crush on the older man already forming. The two of you stood in the empty bedroom, all your things moved temporarily into the living room. 

“I was thinking something dark, maybe a forest green”, was all you responded, holding out a stack of paint cards you picked up from Home Depot. Joel took them lightly in his hand, his fingers brushing against yours. It was enough to wake every nerve in your body. You hoped the hot blush on your cheeks was not too obvious.

“This one. The sun would wash out the rest”. Joel held up a card to the wall, Vermont green. You nodded in agreement. It was your favorite too. Joel couldn’t help but notice how small you were next to him, your frame drowned in his as he stood firmly still next to you. 

“So you're starting a new school. It must be hard being a senior in a new place.” 

You nodded again, carefully lining tape at the base of the walls like Joel had shown you moments before. “Yeah, especially with the year being halfway over. But I’ll manage.” 

Joel relaxed at the sound of your soft voice. It was so refreshing, happy, and full of youthfulness. “Got any plans for college? Ya’ seem smart” Joel asked, lining the floor with a thin plastic material. 

“I’ve actually got my license for cosmetology already. I'm trying to find a shop right now, but it’s hard being new to the area and still being in school.” 

Joel nodded, taking notice of how soft and bouncy your hair looked. Perfect curls stop just under your shoulder blade. Perfect for him to grab onto while you sit on all fours, ass up and face down for him. He quickly shook the thought away, cursing himself for even being alone in a room with you. What had gotten into him?

As the year went on, Joel and your father started hanging out more and more. A familiar boyish relationship formed between them and now they seemed, for the most part, inseparable. Joel spent weekend after weekend in the backyard of your house, cooking steaks, hotdogs, and hamburgers. You had graduated and were home all the time in the summer. He always tried to ignore the way your perfect little ass bounced with every step you took towards the pool, you bikini bottoms ridding up, hardly covering anything and a red popsicle sitting between your plump pink lips. He had never been jealous of a popsicle before. It made him angry, hot all over. He recalled days he accidentally burnt the meat on the grill, too dazed out at the thought of you to pay any mind to food. He was starved, but never for what he was cooking. 

Joel always cursed himself after, hating how much he wanted to destroy your innocence. He made it his mission to be as friendly as he could while still keeping his distance from you. He never sat in chairs next to you, never hugged you, never even gave you a high five. But he would offer you smiles, ask how school was going, and help you with math if you ever needed it. He hoped this was enough to stop the involuntary twitch in his cock every time he saw you.

It never was. 

You, on the other hand, were always trying to get closer. You never needed help painting, and you definitely never needed help with math. In fact, it was one of your best subjects. On days you knew Joel would be over, you would dress a bit lighter, show a touch more skin. Enough that he could imagine, but not enough for your father to notice anything was up. You were not always sure if it worked, but you swore some days you could feel Joel’s eyes linger on you like a lion stalks its prey. Other days, it felt like he was disgusted by you. Only saying a short ‘hey’ and then practically running as far opposite from you as he could. It was so frustrating. You were eighteen, not a child. You knew you could handle him, knew you could take him. 

Today was not a good day to tempt Joel. He had woken up yearning, his skin on fire for you. He had done his best to stay away from your house for the day, taking a cold shower and trying to focus on anything other than the eighteen-year-old girl next door. But you had other plans, knocking steadfastly on his door. 

Joel startled at the light bangs, pacing towards the window and reluctantly moving the blinds. He watched as you stood on his front steps, a sweet smile on your face. God, what did you want?

Joel opened the door hesitantly, looming in the door frame. “Hey, what’s up sweetheart?” He asked, forcing a casual tone from his clenched jaw.

“Did you forget…You’re supposed to be cooking for my dad’s party. He’s gonna be pissed if people show up and there’s nothing to eat.” You spoke, a hand laid lightly on your hip. You wore a light blue sundress, the material flowy and hugging your waist like it was handcrafted for only you.

A strap from a black bra poked through the thin top of the dress, causing a silent groan and a string of curses to raddle his brain.

“Goddamn it, fuck! I fuckin’ forgot. Just come in…” Joel cursed, slapping his forehead and dragging it down his face. 

“You look like shit,” you laughed, taking a long glance as you gently stepped inside the living room. A worn-down couch and loveseat sat in the center of the room, a glass table between them. The walls were boring beige, to be expected. 

“I d-didn’t sleep good…that’s all”, Joel groaned across the room, slamming down two pills. His head was fucking killing him. He rushed around the kitchen, pulling spices and items from the fridge. He let out a few “Grab this and this”. 

“Fuck, I need to change. Why didn't you come get me earlier?” Joel’s tone was impatient, something you had never really heard before. He was always so pleasant. 

“My bad. Didn’t know I was babysitting a grown man,” you huffed, holding a plethora of ingredients Joel had thrown at you. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ smart ass” Joel half yelled. He stopped for a moment, a deep sigh escaping him. He forced himself to finally look at you, his eyes traveling up your body. Fuck, you looked so good. 

“Sorry…Listen, I need you to take this shit to the grill while I get the ribs ready. Then come here, get me a decent outfit. Nothing crazy. Just need a semi-nice shirt and jeans.” Joel raddled, his words coming out faster than you processed. 

You nodded your head in agreement. It was something Joel loved about you. How easily you listened, how accepting and obedient of his words you were. 

A few hours had passed and Joel’s sour attitude had remained the same. He watched from a lawn chair, drinking beers like a sad old man as you danced with family and friends, hugged your father, and smiled at the few strangers in attendance. He tried his damndest to keep his boiling anger at bay, possessive thoughts of grabbing you and leading you to his bedroom invading him. It pissed him off even more to see you act so casual. Like the thought of him ravishing you never crossed your mind. Was he just some kind of freak weirdo obsessed with a teenage girl half his age? Or worse… was he just your dad’s friend to you? 

Racing thoughts plagued his mind. He probably looked like a standoffish asshole to everyone. He had hoped to be in good spirits by the time the party started, but you just would not fuck off. You stood next to him as he cooked, offering help in any way you could. Of course, you were trying to be polite, just wanting to be of assistance. He knew that he should not be so angry at you, but that stupid sundress was making his cock throb against the zipper of his jeans, no release in sight for hours. He daydreamed of when he could lay in bed, cursing himself as he pulled up your Instagram page. Like most nights, he would zoom in on your pictures, picking out ones of you on the beach, your thighs, ass, or tits on display. Then, he would gently drag down his boxers, coat his hand with a thin layer of spit and stroke his cock until he was cumming on his stomach. 

For now, he was stuck in this chair, watching you like a fucking weirdo.

“Joey”, your dad’s voice rang out across the yard, an octave above the heavy rock music playing in the background. Joel hesitated to stand, scared his semi-hard cock might be obvious to those around him. He forced himself up, half-drunk beer in hand, and made his way over to David.

“Just wanted to t-thank you for bringing everyone t-together. You've been a g-great friend to me, and you’ve been so so good to y/n. You would be a great f-father, ya know.” Your dad’s words were slurred and he drunkenly threw his arm around Joel's shoulder. An intense sting of guilt and disgust rushed through Joel like he was being struck by lightning. Guilt because he was daydreaming of fucking the brains out of his best friend’s daughter and disgust because David had just compared you to Joel’s imaginary child.

“Of course,” Joel spoke simply, quickly downing the rest of his beer. This wouldn’t work. He needed something hard. A drink that would actually loosen him up. Joel pulled himself from your dad’s arm, trying to act as happy as he could. He’s finally lost sight of you. Thank god. “Gonna go get another drink, want anything?” Joel asked, watching as your father struggled to gain balance. Clearly, he was cut off. “Actually, never mind.” Joel laughed, his first genuine laugh of the entire day.

Joel wandered to the backdoor, sliding the glass frame open and quickly ducking inside. The house was quiet, everyone gathered outside drinking and laughing. It relaxed him, and he closed his eyes, leaning against the door framing and letting out a heavy breath. 

“Social anxiety?” You asked, standing in the kitchen, a cherry popsicle wrapped around your lips.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel smiled, shaking his head and begging to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but near you. His skin crawled as he watched you lick the popsicle, your tongue gliding in a circular motion around the tip. You knew what you fucking doing. Joel knew it. You both knew it. 

Joel stayed glued to the doorframe, his eyes locked on you as you silently dragged your tongue from the bottom of the popsicle to the top and then dipped it deep into your mouth. 

“Stop,” Joel commanded, taking long strides to the kitchen. He did not dare get too close to you, so he stopped when you were just out of reach, hoping the distance was enough to hold him back. 

“What? I’m not doing anything,” You spoke innocently, sucking the tip of the popsicle until red juice settled on your lips and ran softly down your chin. A light smile sat on your face as you looked up through your eyelashes at Joel, continuing your gentle attack on the popsicle. 

“I’m serious,” Joel spoke, not a hint of emotion behind his words. He took an involuntary step closer, his legs no longer under his control. “You know what you're doing…” Joel whispered, lowering his face until it was just above your ear, his breath hot and thick on the smooth skin of your neck. Every fiber of your being stood at alert and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why was he so close? Why had he been in such a bad mood today?

“Joey, I-” Your voice was enough to push him over the edge, and without warning, he took the popsicle from your hand, laying it down on the counter. He pressed his body against you, trapping you between him and the counter. Your back arched against the cold marble, a hint of fear widening your eyes. Joel stood silently in front of you, looming above your tiny frame. 

“God, you don’t know what you do to me little girl”, Joel’s voice had finally softened but his jaw and fists were still closed tight, like he might explode at any moment. 

You try to speak, try to come up with any type of words, but your mind has disconnected from your body and all you can think is ‘Joel, Joel, Joel’. You don't try to pull away from him, don't even fight when he takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes meet his and you swear you could die right there.

His lips fan above yours momentarily, so close but still so achingly far away. “Say you want this,” Joel mumbles, dragging his thumb across your plump lips, a bright red stain left behind by the cherry flavoring. 

Your body is a melting, trembling mess already. “I-I w-want this,” your words are hardly audible, all breathy and slow. 

That’s all it takes for Joel to completely break, come undone to the point he can never be ‘done’ again. Joel slams into you, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, claiming you through a desperate mess of saliva and tongue. He can taste the cherry on your lips, sweet and addicting. He is completely lost in you, biting softly against your bottom lip. You tug your hand in his hair, thick brown locks finding a home between your fingers. He is a fucking mess and he cannot stop himself from dragging his hands to your waist, pulling you in so deep you are practically one. You suck in a deep breath, allowing Joel’s tongue to dip further inside, swirling inside your mouth desperately. You try to stay quiet, try to keep composed but a moan escapes you before you can even think about stopping it. Need rushes through your body as you whine into him and you feel every muscle in Joel’s body tighten around you. 

Joel cannot believe he is actually fucking doing this. His mind is racing, thoughts clouded with needy desire and despair. He ached for more of you, anything you would offer him. Joel allows himself to get lost in you, finally roaming his hands to your hips, rough and possessive. His lips never part yours, sucking at the tip of your tongue and softly dragging his teeth across it.

Joel's strong hands travel lower, gripping your soft curvy thighs with calloused fingertips. He squeezes your supple flesh, pushing you deeper into the counter. He swears he could do this, just this for hours, never even needing to be inside you to feel euphoria. He kneads at your skin, pulling you flush against his body and biting your lip again. Hesitance lingers through him but he ultimately gives in, slipping his hand under the hem of your dress. Joel groans against your lips as his fingers wander to softer, gentler skin. They move higher and higher until they meet the edge of your panties, slowly tracing a finger along the fabric, his other hand on your waist keeping your wiggles firmly at bay. 

You finally break the kiss, tearing your mouth away from him with reluctance. You place your forehead on his shoulder, breath hot and heavy against his chest. He drops his head, resting it gently atop of yours. His hand on your waist gives you a light squeeze. Joel inhales deeply, the smell of rose and vanilla filling his senses. A low groan reverberates through his chest, need echoing off of him. He wants you right here, doesn't even care if anyone sees or walks in. Doesn't care if it would end up with him getting his ass beat. He just needs you. 

You bite down on the fabric of Joel’s shirt as his hands travel to your ass and grip you tight. He easily lifts you, sitting you down gently on the cold marble in front of him. He knows better, knows not to dip his fingers inside you but your pleading, begging, eyes told him differently.  

Your pupils dilate with lust, a soft whimper easily hexing Joel’s finger back to your thin panties. 

Joel looks down at you, soft hunger written across his face. “This okay?” he whispers, lightly dragging a finger down your clothed slit. You wonder if he can feel the warm, wet spot staining your pretty pink panties. 

“Mmmh,” is all you can reply, Joel’s free hand caressing the skin of the inside of your thigh. He applies gentle pressure, slowly spreading your legs, making more room for his long fingers. Your dress rides up, fabric bunching just above your pelvis. You were finally on display for him, cunt almost exposed. 

Joel watches you tremble under his touch, eyebrows furrowed as he palms at your core. His hand is so warm and your breath hitches in your throat. His movements are slow, so hurtfully soft. He has not even done anything, but his chest is rising and falling like he just fought in war. Your forehead returns to his shoulder and you grab at his forearm, body screaming for more of the sweet sensations of his fingers. You place a light kiss on his shoulder, closing your eyes as Joel uses his fingers to massage your outer lips, pinching them together. Joel moved his finger in a swirling motion, circling your clit with possessiveness. He groans into your neck, breathing in your sweet scent again. He was drunk off it, drunk off you.

“You gonna let me take these off?” Joel whispers, dipping the very tip of his index finger under the hem of your panties.

“Yes, sir”, you whine, your voice a destroyed pathetic cry. Joel chuckles, a smirk on his lips as your cry vibrates through him. Relief struck him. He wasn’t just your dad’s friend, and he wasn’t imagining things. You wanted him. You wanted him.

“Just Joel, baby”, he responds, pulling at the thin pink material. 

“Joel”, you repeat, cold air hitting your exposed core. 

Joel is quick to drag your panties down, past your white heels, and shove them deep in his pants pockets. He couldn't just leave them lying around. Joel swallows hard, the back of his throat dry with nervousness. He knows he should stop here before he does anything he can’t take back. But it’s too late, and his fingers are reaching for your sensitive bundle of nerves. Joel takes a moment to spread your legs wider, groaning as he finally takes a look at your pretty pussy. He could’ve passed out at the sight, your lips plump and the inside a dark rosy pink. You looked like heaven on earth. 

Usually, Joel would have lubed up his fingers, shoved them in your mouth until you were gagging around them, and coated them thickly with your spit but he could tell you were wet enough, your arousal dripping down your cunt to pool on the marble under your ass.

His finger enters you and you can't stop the loud moan that rings through the empty house. “Shh, babygirl, shh”. Joel speaks tenderly. He curls his finger upwards, gently stroking against your soft walls. He can’t believe how fucking wet, warm, and tight your pussy feels around his finger. He wants to die in there, drown in your juices. 

You nod your head, biting your lip so hard you swear you taste a hint of blood. Juices coat his finger and a faint squelching sound fills his ears. Fuck, he’s never been so hard. You arch your back, hips rudding gently at his movements. More moans escape you, and you have to slam your lips back on his to keep quiet. 

He meets your kiss, swallowing every sound that involuntarily floods out of you.  He pressed his finger in deeper, pumping in and out as slow as he could. He tried his hardest to stay gentle, too scared to get rough. 

“Oh! Joel…n-need more”, you whimpered watching as fingers entered and exited you smoothly. 

“Yeah? This not enough for my little girl, huh?” Joel growled, adding a second finger deep inside you. This time, he curled his fingers with a mission. He had to make you cum like this, had to feel your walls tighten around him. 

His two fingers were so thick, stretching your cunt out with a subtle burn. It was so much more than you were used to, more than you could ever give yourself. You gasped at the new sensation, your pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper. 

You were crying now, whimpers and moans of Joel's name spilling out of you like a bucket of paint kicked over on the floor. “Fuck, J-Joel. Please, please. Can’t take anymore. I’m gonna cum, please.” You practically screamed, hands tight around his shoulders. 

“Such a good girl. Go ahead and cum on my fingers.” Joel growled “Let me watch you”, he demanded, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. Your mouth fell silently open, eyes locked on his.

You felt your chest tighten, a coil snapping inside you and shaking your entire system. “Oh fuck,” you screamed, feeling more wetness drip out of you and down your soft thighs. Your vision blurred, a foggy haze destroying every once of strength in your body.

“There you go, baby girl. Just like that”, Joel mumbled, placing soft kisses on your forehead and cheek. He subtly slowed his fingers until they came to a stop, pulling them out of you with a sting. “Did so good for me, so fucking good.” 

Joel whipped his fingers on his pants, grabbing your hips and helping you down from the counter. Your legs wobbled as they hit the ground, and Joel helped you regain balance. He took a moment to fix your hair, whipping away the thin layer of salvia he left on your lips and chin. You pulled your dress down, legs still shaky.

Joel squeezed your side again. His brown eyes stare down at you and he places one last soft kiss on your lips, before clearing his throat and walking out of the kitchen towards the front door. 

He doesn't say bye. Not to you. Not to his best friend. He just goes home, hating himself and craving you even more. 

You stay pressed against the counter, your face flushed and lips swollen a bright pink. You take a moment to catch your breath, questioning if you imagined the interaction. Your heart races as you feel your core, slightly sore and dripping. 

[hairyjocktf]

Building a New Life

Justin was the star wrestler at his high school. He had won regional titles and the adoration of all the local families for years, and was ready to head to college to continue his streak. Senior year he was at his peak, winning matches left and right. All he had to do was wait for those recruitment offers to roll in. He waited and waited, still kicking ass in his wrestling, but while everyone around him was committing and getting accepted, there were no letters to him. To his dismay, one never came. His plans for the future were shattered, what was he supposed to do now? The wrestling scholarship was his only shot for college.

With the year ending and not many options, Justin started looking for entry level jobs that would take him. He lived in a fairly rural area so most of what he found was either farm work or construction, and the latter paid better. He called one of them up and they told him to swing by the site a few days later. He drove out to the construction site later that week and walked into the mobile office they had there. The manager came out to greet him. He was a rugged man in his late 40’s, with a stocky build and thick stubble. He’d clearly been in the business for years and it showed through his worn hands and gruff voice from yelling orders at his lackeys. The man looked Justin up and down.

“A little scrawny but I can work with it,” he said after a few seconds.

“I was a top wrestler in the region!” Justin protested. 

“Doesn’t matter in this industry,” the man said flatly. “Can you handle heavy loads and equipment? Can you deal with being outside most of the day in rough weather?”

Justin was caught off guard, usually people were much nicer to him. “Of course I can! I can handle whatever you throw at me,” he assured.

“Well alright, If you think you can handle it let’s see how you do here,” the manager said, handing a pile of clothes to Justin. “Here’s your safety and HiVis gear, make sure it fits and then we’ll get you set up outside.”

Justin took his uniform to the bathroom to try it on real quick. It included a hard hat that was adjustable, which he fit to his head, a bright orange and yellow HiVis vest, and a couple other things. He put it all on and stepped back into the office. 

“Alright follow me, Justin was it?” the manager gestured towards the door.

“Yes sir,” Justin responded uncharacteristically.

“Name’s Blaine, the manager revealed, “Around here we usually work on residential projects, we’re currently assisting on a development outside of town.” He led them away from the office around the immediate site, which currently seemed to be mostly used as storage for equipment and materials. “Since you’ve got no experience you’ll start by shadowing some of our guys for a few weeks and handling more basic tasks til you’re ready for more,” he continued. “You can head back to the office and they'll take care of the nitty gritty for ya. I’m expecting great things from you, wrestler,” Blaine laughed as he left Justin and headed out towards the development. Justin heard his gruff voice booming in the distance as he barked orders to the workers.

Justin was unsure about all of this, but he didn’t really have a better option at the moment. He felt out of place in his new safety gear, and he was younger than nearly everyone he saw working. He took care of the paperwork and headed home for the day; they'd hired him on the spot to start the next morning. With considerable unease, he went to bed, closing one chapter of his life for the next. 

As the weeks went by Justin began acclimating to this new job fairly well. He got to know the guys he worked with, learned how to use the equipment, and began to feel comfortable on the site. He even felt like he had put on some mass to better handle all the physical work he was doing. His rock solid abs were a little less visible than they had been but for some reason that didn’t bother him. He was already starting to forget the sting of not being recruited for wrestling. Every day he came into work those past dreams seemed to fade a little more, replaced by his new life. His coworkers had made fun of him for having such a baby face at the beginning, but now he was starting to sport a little bit of stubble. Justin was slowly starting to blend in more with his new crowd.

The months continued to pass, with Justin becoming more and more entrenched in his new construction life. It was getting colder outside, and his body began to adjust without him even noticing. His stubble grew out into a real beard, short and dense. He began packing on more body fat as he spent less and less time at the gym and more and more working and drinking with his new bros. His voice began to sound a little deeper and rougher, matching those around him. The hard hat really suited him now with his more rugged looks. He had never been a good student in school but he seemed to really be taking to this new job, completely forgetting about his old goals. The occassional approving nod from Blaine was driving him forward. He was thriving in this new position, but the job wasn’t done with him yet.

Unbeknownst to Justin, under his thick winter clothes things were changing. His previously toned body, while still fairly muscular, was steadily becoming thicker with fat. Not only that, but he’d always been near perfectly smooth and that too was slowly changing. It had started with his chest, where on the previously bare skin thin wispy hairs had started to poke out. That didn’t last long though, as they were quickly overrun with thicker, darker hairs that began sprouting in between his pecs. They grew curly as they spread out, covering his entire chest in hair, spreading up across his collarbone and down across his slowly growing stomach. The new hairy coat was just another part of his insulation against the harsh winter weather. But the hairs didn’t stop there either. His pits erupted with thick wiry hairs, coating his underarms in curly hairs that trapped both heat and sweat. The hairs pushed out, tangling together as they formed a thick tuft of hair under each arm, even spreading out to connect with the rug on his chest. After each day of hard work he’d come home stinking like the other men he worked with, and over time he started to enjoy the musk he produced.

Of course he wasn’t done filling out his uniform quite yet. His formerly modest bush began growing with no end in sight, engulfing his groin in thick, wiry brown hairs that radiated out from his lengthening cock. Sometimes while on the site Justin would instinctively reach down in his pants to itch the growing bush, the feeling and texture of it driving him wild. With pubes erupting day and night his musk only grew stronger, as Justin began to truly have a manly aura around him that he’d never had before. It seemed to help him bond with the other guys more, as they welcomed him into their groups and invited him out more and more frequently. Underneath his work pants his legs bulked up considerably from carrying all sorts of materials around, followed closely by the same dark fur. It raced down his legs and coated them with curly hairs that rubbed against the inside of his increasingly tight jeans as he walked around, an almost arousing feeling. Within the first year of working Justin had gone up four sizes in his work boots, as his feet grew and widened to match the rest of him. The massive steel-toed boots hid how hairy his feet had gotten, with dark hairs covering the tops and toes.

The next year was largely the same. Justin continued slowly changing to better fit his new job. He was really beginning to excel at it, and he’d attained a close friendship with many of the men he worked with. It almost seemed as if he’d aged ten years over the last one, he certainly looked it at this point. His fur coat only thickened, growing even denser across his chest and stomach to the point you could barely see the skin beneath the hairs. Hair had also spread up and onto his shoulders before enveloping his massive back. The hairs gushed out across his shoulder blades before shooting down his spine and spreading out wide. The heavy coating slowly grew thicker and spread out further as time went on, reaching down to his ass. It too became covered with thick, dark hairs as it inflated to a truly massive size. During the warmer months sometimes he just wore his vest and hard hat, his incredibly thick hair covering the rest of him and sticking through his vest.

Justin earned the nickname ‘Grizzly’ from his coworkers after they saw how hairy he’d gotten, and his body had put on the size to match. Gone was the small but toned body of a wrestler, replaced by a thick, hairy, and sturdy body of a weathered construction worker. He oozed masculinity from not only his stained and dirty work clothes, but from the thick chest hair that he left his shirt open to show off. His entire body was now coated with a dense coat of hair and he liked to make that known, as long as he wasn’t caught against safety regulations at least. He never questioned why he’d changed so much in such a short span, it never even occurred to him, and honestly he liked his new life. He was just one of the guys working on the site now. The hair felt as natural to him as anything else, and the other guys seemed to like it even if they made fun of him once in a while. Occasionally when they went out drinking some of the guys would have too many beers and start rubbing their hands through his thick fur, but he didn’t mind at all. It felt good to be masculine, and to be appreciated for it by other guys. Months continued to pass though no one could really remember how long Justin had been working there at this point, but they were all glad he was there. He was the best construction worker on their team.

[octuscle]

Catalan internship

Michael was overjoyed. He would never have dreamed that he would be accepted as an intern at the renowned architecture firm in Barcelona. Normally, world-class offices only accepted seniors as interns. And Michael was a sophomore. And he barely spoke a word of Spanish. To be honest, he had lied a bit on his CV. But the internship didn't start for another three months. Until then, he would learn Spanish and learn so much that it wouldn't even be noticeable that he had only just started his studies.

When he was on the plane to Barcelona three months later, Michael didn't speak a word of Spanish and had gained a lot of experience in frat house parties over the past few weeks. The internship was going to be a debacle… And indeed, he didn't understand a word on his first day. And even if he had spoken the language, he would have had no idea what they wanted him to do. Michael cursed the decision to apply for this position. He was only happy when he was finally in the office. He googled "Spanish now". A list of language schools and language apps came up… Boring stuff… That didn't help him now either… And then, already on page 2, came "Become Spanish in just a few moments". Chronivac… Never heard of it… "In-app purchases possible." Never mind, Michael had his dad's credit card….

"Spanish architecture student in his final year". That was all the effort Michael put into his prompt. That was enough work for today. Michael spent the rest of the day looking for trendy bars for tonight.

Miguel wasn't overly punctual when he came into the office the next day. Why the hell didn't he understand anyone here? The language sounded like a gibberish of Spanish, French and a few more languages. Fortunately, everyone here actually understood Spanish. And for a reason Miguel couldn't quite explain to himself, Miguel spoke fluent English. This made it easier to flirt with the other interns from Germany, Poland and the USA. Unfortunately, Miguel quickly realized that everyone else here was far superior to him professionally. Despite his advanced studies, Miguel was a complete layman compared to his colleagues when it came to creativity, structural engineering and building technology.

"A young Spanish architect". And "Enter".

Miguel hated his small apartment in the suburb of Barcelona. He designed the most beautiful houses, the most spectacular skyscrapers. And he lived in this shoebox. Okay, to be fair, Miguel didn't actually design anything. Miguel drew staircases. Staircases for the most beautiful houses, the most spectacular skyscrapers. Buildings that someone else in the office had designed. One of the big bosses who were in the limelight, who were celebrated in the press. The stars of the Catalan architecture scene. Miguel could puke. In itself, he could have been satisfied. He wasn't earning too badly. He was a good-looking man. But he spent ten to twelve hours a day in the office. He had never seen one of his construction sites. He left his home at 06:00, he came home at 19:00 or not until 20:00. Sport? Going out? Meeting friends? He was already happy if he managed to finish a ready meal in the microwave. Didn't he have this app? He felt like he had last used it years ago. "One of the big boys in the office," he wrote. Tomorrow he wanted to be one of the bosses.

As a Spaniard, Miguel was used to having to earn respect. The cursed Catalans always thought they were better than everyone else. That was one of the reasons why Miguel almost lived in the gym. Sleep, gym, office, gym, sleep, gym… Getting his muscles to burn was more important to him than being successful here in the office. And with the muscles, success somehow came automatically. In meetings, he was always looked at when a question was open. Miguel knew that he wasn't actually the most talented architect in the office. But thanks to his impressive physique, he had managed to carve out a reasonably decent career. He earned good money, he had a summer house in Mallorca, he fucked the interns. And he was sometimes allowed to suck off one of the gods, the bosses of the office. No more. No less. His career had come to a natural end. He was just 42 years old. Damn it, it had to go on somehow. But as a Spaniard in Catalonia? Not a chance! He searched for this app… What was it called again? Chronivac. What should he enter as a prompt…? "My own master. And Catalan"

Miquel got up at 05:00 and immediately started lifting weights in his carpentry workshop. As a self-employed man, he didn't have a minute to lose. His apprentice and his two fellow carpenters arrived between 06:00 and 06:30. Most of his neighbors could set the clock so that the circular saw would start howling at 06:30. This did not necessarily make Miquel and his workshop popular. But his father and grandfather had already built cupboards and tables here for the neighborhood. The family had made a small fortune. And Miquel was a celebrity in his neighborhood. They called him "the Catalonian Arnold". And indeed, he was not much less imposing than his great role model. When customers came to his workshop, he always went out of his way to flex his muscles. Many of his customers attached great importance to him personally installing the furniture. And it was not uncommon for customers to have the air conditioning turned off. No matter. As a rule, he worked bare-chested whenever possible anyway.

Miquel was a good craftsman and not a bad self-promoter. But as a businessman, he was a failure. His accounts were constantly empty, the demands of social security and the tax authorities constantly hovered over him like a sword of Damocles. How he would love to simply chisel iron and work with wood. His two passions. In fact, he felt like an accountant. He wrote "Be free" in this strange app.

It had been a few years since Miquel had sold his workshop and the house in Barcelona. He had never been back since. But he had heard that Japanese-Chilean tapas were served where he had once assembled cabinets. Although he had received an indecent amount of money for the property by his own admission, he would be able to eat there for maybe a year and then he would be broke. But the last thing he dreamed of was eating Japanese-Chilean tapas in Barcelona.

He no longer worked for money in the village where he had bought an abandoned carpenter's workshop. He worked when he felt like it. Or when someone asked him to. Of course, after just a few hours, his muscular body made him a household name. But first and foremost, the few remaining inhabitants were happy that there was a carpenter in the village again. And what a carpenter. Good with the plane. And good with the tail. Miquel had nailed everything there was to nail in the village. His cock was in a jockstrap encrusted with cum and precum. He stank of sweat and musk. If it bothered anyone, Miquel would press their face into his armpit. Either he was rid of the annoying troublemaker afterwards. Or he had a new victim to fuck. Everything was actually perfect… But something was missing.

Miquel hadn't had a cell phone for years. Anyone who wanted to reach him could reach him. He wasn't a hermit. He had internet in the former sheepfold that he converted into his last home. His supposed last home. Who would know that?

He still remembered the moment when he switched off his last phone for the last time. He had used Chronivac for the last time shortly before that. "A contented man in his prime". Damn, that was him.

[episims]

Lot: Skyblue Studio (Root)

The most plant-ish thing about Judi is that she has more energy than an average power plant. So the last time she: inherited her and Jonas' parents' wealth, used some of the money to build an art gallery (that she runs as a non-profit business) and funded the construction of a public library, got two promotions (first to a senior manager, then to a president), put her negotiation skills in damn good use and convinced Chase to sell Hanna to her, and tried to get Melody to reveal how witches prolong their lives (this was the only thing she wasn't successful at).

For the record, Jonas did tell her to slow down. The man lives as he teaches; he mostly babysat Casper and Aurora, worked on his next book, and continued throwing occasional DJ gigs at the side.

Casper grew up into a child, found out that science interests him, and faced some nourishment problems as his plantsim caretakers are clueless about food.

But Hanna lives here now so hopefully they won't run out of prepared food anymore. Though by now we know that Chase fiddled Hanna's memory upon parting with her, so let's hope nothing important got removed in the process (recipes or else).

ROS spoiler under the cut->

Fresh air: Spend a day outdoors.

It would be harder to make Hanna stay indoors for a day really, but alright then.

[ask-granite-pillars]

[TRANSMISSION REQUEST INBOUND. PARTICIPANTS: Ten Ounces Of Enriched Egg White (ADMIN, URAD), Unit of Radioactive Decay, Granite Pillars Stained By Statuesque Memories Of A Thousand Hands] [Live Broadcast] URAD: Hello? Is this reaching you? URAD: Your communications towers appear to be somewhat degraded. it took several tries to- TEN OUNCES (crosstalk, from out of frame): You degrade my efforts! Several tries and me fixing the formatting, as well. URAD: Several tries and my administrator's assistance in order to get a signal through. Your upkeep seems to be rather neglected, group senior. But I expect that it would be quite difficult to keep one of your age running in the first place. I am told that I should keep an amiable relationship with my group's senior, but I believe that Ten Ounces was more enthusiastic to meet you than I. TEN OUNCES (faint, from out of frame): Granite Pillars Stained By Statuesque Memories Of A Thousand Hands is the oldest surviving iterator, and it would be an honor to learn anything she might still have in her archives. URAD (directed towards indeterminate point to left of frame): As has been true for the past twelve times you have mentioned this. URAD: Truthfully, I do not know what value there is that I can gain from this, besides simply being aware of those above me on my local group's chain of command, but Ten Ounces was quite insistent that we at least try now that your communications are back online- TEN OUNCES (crosstalk, from out of frame): (undecipherable) TEN OUNCES: (very low voice, from bottom corner of frame): Don't say that to your group senior! URAD: -and so, here we are. Hello. I am Unit of Radioactive Decay. It is nice to meet you.

Oh, I remember this broadcast very well! We met (properly, at least- I did work on their genome and construction plans before they were activated fully) long after I had already grown obsolete. Unit of Radioactive Decay is the second-oldest in our local group, and I consider us to be good friends, research partners, and distant neighbors.

[BROADCAST TRANSCRIPT]

GP: Do I know you?

GP: Silent Embrace of Leaves? Is that you?

URAD: Your name data appears to be out of date.

URAD: To a nearly comical degree.

URAD: As of four thousand, three hundred, and twenty-six cycles ago, it is Unit of Radioactive Decay.

GP: Oh. 

GP: It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen you last- my apologies.

GP: It’s a pleasure to meet you once more!

GP: Have you been doing well?

TEN OUNCES: Um.

URAD: Have you been maintained... at all... in the cycles since you were constructed?

GP: Ha!

GP: Not much, these days! 

GP: I’m far out of date, as you can undoubtedly tell.

URAD: It shows.

GP: Would you believe that I put in a request for the repair of my communications systems over a thousand cycles ago?

GP: And yet, here I am, as my communications remain in this tragic state… my greatest gratitudes to your administrator for managing to connect us at all!

URAD: Your administrators sound very inefficient. Are you sure that you have technicians? If your memories are in the state they seem to be, you may have been sending your requests to the inbox of someone who has already moved on.

URAD: You should check your active staff. It would be very inefficient to make your current administrators comb through the emails of their predecessors.

GP: Perhaps I should...

GP: Ah, it's such a hassle to deal with seasonal administrators.

GP: I was never meant to have to deal with a city, and you'd think my administrators would be able to work around that...

GP: Sigh.

[The broadcast continues for some time as iterators Granite Pillars Stained By Statuesque Memories Of A Thousand Hands and Unit Of Radioactive Decay continue to exchange words.]

[fawtyy]

modern!anakin skywalker x reader- serein

description: highschool au! in your senior year of highschool, you were paired with anakin skywalker, the “schools weirdo” for the end of year project. in this little time before the project is due, you get to know him and come to a deep realization.

warnings: some emotional abuse, drinking, cigarettes, obi-wan is very out of character.

part 1

•••

Hearing the horn beep outside, you looked over yourself in the mirror one more time before grabbing your bag. Winter break was over and it was time for your last semester of senior year. It was still cold out but your boyfriend insisted on the short skirt you were wearing.

Walking downstairs, you seen both of your parents as they were getting ready to leave for work. Your father worked at a construction sight as the building manager, and your mom worked as a nurse at the local hospital. They strived to make sure you and your younger brother lived a nice life, at whatever cost, but also made sure that you knew what it took for them to make it this far. You were taught to treat the CEO with the same respect you treat the janitor with.

Your mom walked to you, a big smile on her face as she landed a kiss on your cheek. “Have a great day back, only 5 months left.” Nodding, you bid them both a good day, grabbed an apple and walked to your boyfriend’s car parked on the street. “Put a jacket on!”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, or Ben because Obi-Wan was “too lame”, had been your boyfriend for a little over two years now. He was the quarterback for your high school, leading them to many championships. He was the most popular guy in the school. You only got close when you did track in freshman year, him noticing you for the first time. Over a year later, he asked you out and the rest has been history. “Hey baby.”

He gripped the side of your neck, pulling you close in and attacking your lips. You responded but quickly pulled back once he let go. “Don’t you look good today.” You smiled, looking out the window.

Another thing about Ben, he’s a total jerk. It didn’t become this bad until he was given the title of leading quarterback in his sophomore year. Though he’s always been spoiled. His dad was the CEO of a major computer company, which raked in more money than you can imagine. His mom stayed home and raised the kids though didn’t clean because they had maids. His younger siblings were the same way.

The ride to school was filled with him talking about all of the scholarships coming his way, how his coach made him angry, and the rap music blaring through his speakers. The most consistent thing you heard was his phone going off every few minutes with a new notification, from his “friends”.

Pulling into a parking spot, you both got out of the car, his friends already crowding around. They were mostly football players, their girlfriends latched to their arms. You smiled at them only to have them roll their eyes, continuing to rub on their mans and eye up Ben. It’s always been like this. Before you met Ben, you weren’t popular, you really don’t like to consider yourself that now. It was leggings and a hoodie or T-shirt everyday. Ben changed your entire wardrobe. Crop tops, short skirts and short, heels and all kinds of makeup. You didn’t wear everything he wanted you to, but just enough to keep him happy.

Ben walked over and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him inside. He was talking about his schedule when a shiver when down your spine. Turning your head, you seen Anakin Skywalker, someone who Ben calls an “emo bitch” standing at the school entrance. He was looking your way, casting his eyes down when you looked back. “Y/n, are you listening? What’s your first class?”

Snapping out of your daze, you looked at your paper. “Um, I’m sorry, science.” He cursed, looking at his own paper.

“Mine is history. Let me see your paper.” He snatched it from your hands as you looked back, watching Anakin walk past you with his friends. He met your eyes again, holding the stare this time before his friends pulled him away. “Damn, we barely have any classes together. I guess I can get some of the guys to keep an eye on you.”

That snapped you back. “Keep an eye on me?”

He smirked. “You know, making sure no one is eyeing you like you’re theirs. Keep ya safe.” Rolling your eyes, you took your paper back. The bell rang and he pulled you in for another kiss. “See ya later, babe.”

Sighing, you walked to the science class, putting a little pep in your step when the second bell rang. Walking in at the last minute, you looked around to find an empty table. Walking to one closer in the back, you set your stuff on the floor and sat down. The teacher hadn’t walked in yet but someone did.

Anakin Skywalker looked out of breath as he looked around. You heard some giggles and laughing, causing you to notice some of Ben’s friends in here. Watching Anakin roll his eyes, you both realized that your table was the only one that could fit another person. Walking back to it, he dropped his bag and sat in the chair beside you. You slightly side eyed him but looked forward as the teacher walked in.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr.Smith and I will be your anatomy teacher. I know some of you are seniors, so you need this class to graduate.” Some of the guys cheered when he said seniors, something that made him roll his eyes. “Anyways, I’m gonna get this syllabus passed around so make sure to look over it and bring it back signed.”

The papers were passed back to Anakin and he grabbed two, sliding one your way. You gave him a small smile but he looked away before seeing it. Looking at the syllabus, you noticed the same thing everyone else did. “Wait, we don’t get to change partners?”

The teacher laughed and shook his head. “Nope, the person sitting next to you will be your partner for the semester. All of your labs and study time will be done with them. Your end of the year project will also be done with them. Which, if you look at your table number and the back of the page, that’ll tell you what project you have.”

Turning the page, you see a list of diseases with a number next to them. Your table was number 9, so your disease was Alzheimer’s. “The project will be to make a presentation about your disease and which part of the body it attacks and how it usually ends. It’ll be due two weeks before school lets out. You can start whenever, but I don’t take late work.” Looking at his watch, he sat at his desk with a smile. “Take the rest of class to get acquainted!”

Everyone started talking amongst themselves as you turned to look at Anakin. He was writing small doodles on his syllabus paper, seeming completely tuned out. “Those are cute.” He stopped, slightly looking at you and sitting up straight. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

He looked at your outstretched hand, eventually shaking it and nodding. “Anakin.”

“Did you understand everything about the project?”

He nodded again, looking back down at it. Sighing, you turned back in your seat, looking at your own paper. You could hear laughter again, as well as ‘loser’ and other things being mumbled. Looking back at Anakin, you finally took in his features. His ears were littered with piercings, as well as one around his lip. His hair was dark, pitch black and it looked like he put dark eyeliner around his eyes. He glanced back behind him before scoffing. “I’m sorry about them.”

He fully turned his head to look at you, holding eye contact. “They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

Turning your nose up in disgust, you shook your head. “Far from it.” He slightly smiled at that before going back to his paper. The rest of the time was quiet before the bell finally rang. He quickly grabbed his stuff and was the first one out the door.

Grabbing your bags, you seen Ben in the hall, surrounded by other girls. He was laughing and cutting up with them until he seen you, breaking away. “Hey baby! How was it?” You told him about the class as you both walked to your next class together. He stopped once you were done talking. “Anakin Skywalker is your lab partner? You’re gonna have to get that changed babe.”

“Why? He doesn’t really talk and he just stays to himself.”

“He’s a freak, like literally. You don’t need to be around that and I won’t allow it.” Breaking away from his hold, you raised a brow at him.

“Well I think it’ll be fine, Obi. It’s just a project.” Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, all the way up until you and Obi were walking to his car. Looking across the parking lot, you spotted Anakin unlocking his door. Telling Obi you’d be right back, who was laughing with his friends anyways, you jogged over to Anakin, yelling his name.

He looked back at you, raising a brow at your smile. “Hey, can I get your number?” Raising both of his brows, you laughed. “We’re gonna be working on the project all semester, it’ll probably be best to get each others contact information.” Handing him your phone, he reluctantly took it, typing his phone number in. Handing it back, you took it with a smile and sent a text to his phone. “Cool, just text me with any ideas, see you tomorrow!”

You walked back to Obi, Anakin staring after you while Obi-Wan glared at him. All Anakin did was smirk and get in his car, driving off. “What was that about?”

You smiled at Obi, getting into the car. “Just needed his number for the project.”

Rolling his eyes, Ben took off to your house.

That night, after showering and getting into bed, your phone went off. Opening it up, you smiled seeing Anakin’s name. It was a link to a website with all kinds of facts and research on Alzheimer’s. Taking out your notebook, you began to write some of the facts down, creating thought bubbles and everything for the project.

The next day went about the same. Ben picked you up, ditched you mainly for his friends. You didn’t care too much today, wanting to get to class and go over some things with Anakin. As you were walking away, Ben caught up to you. “Hey babe, you’re in a rush today.” He laughed but you could see the confusion.

“I just want to get to class, love you.” Pecking his cheek, you entered the science class and took your seat. Ben stood at the door, trying to comprehend what happened.

Anakin walked in moments later, and you still had about 5 minutes before the bell rang. You smiled when he sat down and turned to look at him, taking your notebook out. “So I wrote all of this down from the link you sent me and I just wanted your thoughts.”

You never texted Anakin back last night but now he understood why. A tiny smile came upon his face as he looked over the details you wrote down, your little thought bubbles everywhere. It was cute.

“This is a good start, I like this.” Smiling big, you nodded, loving that he was talking more today.

“Cool, I was also thinking maybe we do a tri fold poster, since we have to showcase it and all.” He nodded, his smile becoming a little bigger.

The next few weeks would go on about the same. Anakin would open up a little more, day by day. You both would text more, not just about the project. You learned a lot about him in the past few weeks. He had his own band and they would perform at bars on the weekends. He only lived with his mother, his dad went awol. He loves space and he has a couple of animals.

Looking over your outfit, you smiled in the mirror. It was Saturday, yours and Ben’s date night. You’ve had one every Saturday night since you began dating. It was a time to not talk about school or football, just eachother.

Hearing your phone go off, you unlocked it and smiled seeing Anakins name.

‘Hey, are you busy tonight?’

Right as you began typing that you were, another message came through from Ben. Opening that one up, you smile dropped seeing his message.

‘Hey babe, we’re gonna have to skip date night tonight, Tyler is throwing a huge party since his parents are gone. I’ll pick you up in 30.’

Sitting on the bed, you stared at the phone in disbelief. Ditching our date, for a party? You didn’t like his friends and they didn’t like you. You honestly hated to be around them, especially outside of school. They were loud and just annoying. Hearing another text come through, you lift your phone up.

‘If you’re not, I was gonna invite you to see my band play tonight. It’s free to get in and they have other drinks instead of alcohol. I’d love for you to come. Here’s the address’

Jumping up, you got out of your short blue skirt and white crop top. Pulling some leggings and a AC/DC shirt on, you threw a zip up jacket over it and slid your shoes on. You didn’t have on any makeup except mascara and you put your hair in a ponytail. You grabbed your bag, sending one last text before putting your phone away.

‘I’m actually not feeling well, I hope you have fun, love you’

Anakin knew it was a dumb idea to invite you. You probably had plans with your popular boyfriend, he rolled his eyes at the thought. What made him feel worse was double texting you. “Hey Ani, we’re about to be up.” Nodding he grabbed his guitar and walked onto the stage.

You walked into the bar, seeing some people sitting at tables, other shooting pool or darts. Seeing an empty table, you sat down, waiting for Anakin to walk out. A waitress walked to your table and you ordered a water. You watched the curtain open, Anakin front and center as the lead singer. His eyes darted around the room, widening when he seen you. You smiled and waved, a small smile coming over his face.

He introduced his band and they began to play some songs. Some were their own but some were covers that they did well. You were so mesmerized, watching him sing and play, that you completely forgot your water. You could tell he had a passion for music.

Finishing up the last song, he thanked everyone and went off the stage. You stood up as he came around, smiling at you. “You made it.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, he paused for a second before hugging you back. He was just so happy you were here. Pulling back, you gave him a big smile. “You did so good! I loved it.”

You both sat down as another band went on to preform. Eating some food, you two went on to have a conversation about any and everything. You both were out of your element and it just felt right. Around 12, you both decided it was time to go home.

You walked outside, trying to call your dad to come get you. “Everything okay?”

Looking over at Anakin, you nodded. “My dad dropped me off, I think he went back home and fell asleep. I might have to walk…”

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

“Oh, Anakin no, I really couldn’t ask you to do that-“

“And I’m not letting you walk home, let’s go.”

Shyly smiling, you walked to his car, him opening the passenger door for you. Shutting the door, he got in the driver side and started driving. You picked up the conversation while giving directions. “So, I’m surprised your boyfriend wasn’t over your shoulder the whole time you were here.”

Huffing out a laugh at his comment, you shrugged. “He doesn’t know I was here.” He looked at you with his brows raised. “Tonight was supposed to be our date night, we have one every Saturday. As I was going to text you back and let you know, he texted me and said he was picking me up for his friends party. I told him I didn’t feel well and came here.”

Slowly nodding, he came to a stop in front of your house, putting his car in park. “I’m sorry.” Giving him a look of confusion, he continued. “I’m sorry you’re with someone that doesn’t respect and cherish you.”

Taken aback, you opened your mouth only for nothing to come out. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. “Obi cares, and he’s a great guy. You don’t know him-“

“No you don’t. There’s a lot of things you don’t see, at school or even on the streets. He’s not a good guy-“

“Obi is a good guy.” He leaned back in his seat as you cut him off. Sighing, you grabbed your bag, trying to get out. “Thanks for the ride.”

The door handle would open, causing Anakin to take initiative and reach over you to help. He made eye contact as a blush slightly took over when you realized how close you were. Hearing the door open, you quickly got out and ran inside.

Anakin watched and made your door closed before letting out an aggravated sigh. Hitting the wheel, he cursed and shook his head. “Good guy my ass.”

[smithiecollege]

Fall is here, and nothing screams fall more on Smith's campus than the tweeting of sparrows drowned out by the ground-shaking, teeth-chattering noise and reverberation of construction. Yes, Mountain Day came and went, and the once wide and welcoming Chapin Path, where any student was once welcome to be passive-aggressively passed by a cyclist, is still shuttered. Many students have so missed that crucial part of the campus experience that they've taken to walking to class in the bike lanes along Elm Street, hoping to replicate that same thrill Chapin Path usually provides.

While many students have complained about the construction all over campus (says one junior: "I'm a liberal. I believe in investing in more eco-friendly energy sources. But maybe--maybe not here."), some have managed to live amid the disruption. "The construction noise doesn't bother me. I'm just screaming in my head, constantly," said one senior. "God knows I don't have a job lined up after graduation. I'm going to have to move back in with my parents, and they're going to ask me why I'm not gay married yet, and that's just not something I can take."

Yes, while many gripe and groan about the construction, there is an objective argument to be made here: Construction is God.

Proof:

Is that not God, streaming through the clouds that cover the sky above the early site of the Kathleen McCartney building? No doubt--God Himself casts his gaze upon Smith, and He has decreed "You shall have only one stir-fry dining hall this year. Also, the price of Celsius at the Julia Child Campus Center will be increased by a half-dollar. But fear not--you shall have a building made of ghastly timber, like the remodel of a historic home in a morally dubious HGTV series."

And so we shall.

Therefore, if Construction is the word of God, it is our duty as a once-secular (but now, clearly, blessed) school to pursue this plan. Many students have suggested lights at crosswalks, to perhaps mitigate the number of students who end up in collisions with vehicles, or even functional elevators in every house, or possibly even better pay and treatment for all Smith employees. While these are all certainly options, do they honor the word of Construction God? We think not. Smith's next project will be Holy.

Now proposing:

The Barbara Bush Center for Eat (Construction 2025-2035)

This project will take the ultimate step towards Smith's final goal of centralized dining. The Barbara Bush Center (Or Bushie, as students will affectionately call it) will occupy Green Street. Blueprints require the entirety of Green Street and all student housing to be razed to the ground to complete this construction, but ultimately, we feel as though it will be worth it. Bushie will stand ten stories tall, as it must be built to represent the time it was conceived of. Furthermore, the building will be in the exact shape and design of the Oceangate Titanic Submersible, to honor the failures of science, and encourage Smithies to do better. Bushie will serve breakfast on floors 2,4, and 7 from 6:45 AM to 7:04 AM, and after that, there will be no meals until 8:30 PM, and they will always be sold out immediately, as a way to teach Smithies about scarcity and competition. However, Bushie will serve snacks on floor 5 during the third minute of every hour of the day, just so students can internalize the importance of punctuality. Bushie will also offer fifty-seven lactation rooms throughout the building, and while it is understood that there are surely never going to be that many lactating people in need of a designated room in Bushie at the same time, these rooms will serve as a location for people with roommates to respectfully have sex with someone on the rugby team. However, all lactation rooms will be noise-transparent, because we value womxn's voices.

Finally, we would like to announce that in addition to First Tuesdays and Second Thursdays, we are beginning a tradition called Every Other Fourth Wednesday where on every other fourth Wednesday of every month, community members stand silent on Burton Lawn and practice taking a bra off of someone with one hand, supervised by the most butch members of our faculty. Members of the 5 College Consortium are invited and encouraged to attend. All skill levels are welcome.

With love from the bottom of paradise pond,

Smith College

[zoominsainz]

Sainz Sr has always rubbed me the wrong way, maybe not like Jos Verstappen levels of ick, but pretty up there… that mentality he taught Carlos from the young age that he has to toughen up if he wants to succeed, I can’t imagine saying to my kid that he can’t be himself and be successful at the same time. And sure, maybe this mentality is right for the sport, but it seems like it’s not right for Carlos as a person which in turn affects him as an athlete because he’s afraid to disappoint his father or embarrass their family name so he has to play up the ‘tough’ act. Idk. My perception is that he’s just different than his dad but he’s been molded into someone else his whole life so there’s a big conflict inside of him. His dad needs to step away from managing Carlos’ career me thinks, I feel like that would bring Carlos at least some peace

I wanna relate the ‘toughen up’ with the way he acts around people, he’s so constructed around patriarcal masculinity that being soft around people is weak and so he has to masc his affection by being rough (ie. his way of showing affection is physical touch but feminine! So I’ll hit and shove and throw you around bc I’m a man and I’m supposed to be rough)

It’s so obvious that senior is the most important member of the sainz family, he’s a renowned sportsman plus I’m guessing he’s the responsible one for the family’s wealth and political power so everyone looks up to him as the leader and so being named Carlos, after him is such a big honor and you’re the only boy! So you have to carry on the legacy of the successful sainz family, so you have to live up to be as great and efficient and be a leader, be a shark, a force to be reckoned with, that’s what you father tells you since you are 6, and all the family around you telling you “you got to be as great as your father”. In a family with such conservative and patriarcal values there’s no room to make a mistake or even be mid, it’s glory or failure, and they won’t hesitate throwing at his face everything they have given him and his only job being to be the person they boast around in gatherings and events.

But Carlos, he’s soft, he show he cares, he doesn’t like putting people down, he never boasts about winning bc he can see that the real fun part was the activity and not the result, ofc he likes winning, everyone does but like with lando, when asked who wins at golf and saying ‘oh in the end we didn’t keep score’ or with charles in the challenges, whenever charles gets too competitive he always offers to share the points instead or recognizing his efforts out loud.

I think he does feel immense pressure of living to his dads standards, show him he can be as good as his dad expects him to be, a carlos sainz as good as carlos sainz and the spanish media have a whole cultural background approach to carlos that he has to be perceived as a tough, emotionless guy, he always sounds snarky and very masculine coded when talking to dazn, very matter of fact. With his country also expecting him to succeed like the other spaniard in the grid with 2 wdc.

I agree with you, if his dad stopped managing him I think he would be able to relax and craft his approach to the sport that he loves in a more personal way and not with his dads expectations but also financial and political interests looming over him.

This was very rambly and messy and the anthropological pov discourse possessed me for a little bit there.

If you have any more thoughts I’ll be happy to read them.

[catalina-g]

and it's in the sea of green I lose control

Name: Catalina Jade Gomez

Age: 29

Birthday/Zodiac: April 21st, 1995 — Taurus

Face Claim: Eva De Dominici

Occupation: Firefighter

Neighborhood: Downtown

Gender & Preferred Pronouns: Cis female & she/her

Brief Bio (tw parental death)

Catalina Jade Gomez is the middle child of three, and was born in Avellaneda, Argentina.

At age 4 she and her family moved to Briar Ridge, her father had found a better job here in construction while her mom was able to stay home with, at the time, only her and her older sibling.

Growing up was a bit rough for her, her older sibling was the prized possession of her mother and father, constantly she was compared to them as if whatever she did was never as good as what they did.

It affected Catalina by causing her to act out, though she was smart, she was always getting into trouble at school.

Catalina was known as a hot head among her classmates, and some tried to test her to see if she was really as crazy as they described—and she proved them right every time.

All throughout elementary and middle school she was able to get away with most things by using her sweet smile and soft, seas of green. It made most people believe she was just 'misunderstood', that she wasn't meaning to do the things she was doing.

That stopped in high school...but her behavior soon got worse with news of the arrival of another sibling she knew she'd be competing with.

From ninth grade up until her senior year Catalina had been suspended at minimum seven different times for fighting on school grounds. Other discrepancies that followed her was cutting class, cussing out one of the teachers, and a few other small things that had her sitting in ISS for most of her school days.

Regardless, she still graduated with a 3.8 GPA, her knowledge never wavering behind her terrible conduct.

Her little sister, Emalina, looked up to her and her oldest sibling, no matter how often her parents told her that Cat was no good.

After graduating she went off to college and lived the best life she could, never calling home, and just partying the weekends...hell even the weekdays away while working towards her degree.

She had chosen Criminal Justice, and despite the many classes and exams attended with a hangover, she managed to graduate with her bachelor's with honors.

The next two years flew by as she came back home, soon getting a simple job as a bartender while she was indecisive on if she wanted to pursue a career in law enforcement or not—she had a ton of time to grow up, right?

Wrong. Her parents had left Catalina in charge of her then 11-year-old sister so that they could go to celebrate their upcoming wedding anniversary—and asleep on the couch she was when she heard a knock at the door that would deliver the worst possible news she could have imagined.

Her parents had been killed in a drunk driving accident, and she was left with taking over guardianship of her sister while her older sibling was nowhere to be found.

Knowing she needed to leave a lot of her way behind; she decided to join the fire academy and worked her ass off to graduate and secure a job that would keep the two of them afloat.

Catalina hasn't moved out of the downtown home her parents had brought her up in, and unsure of if she wants to or not—and now she has a fifteen-year-old to keep from following mostly in her footsteps.

Which also means less bar fights, so she keeps her job...but she's always ready to throw down.

[constructionmanagementusa]

How to Ensure Comfort and Safety in Senior Living Construction

Creating senior living facilities involves careful consideration of the unique needs of older adults. Comfort and safety are top priorities in these environments, as residents often face mobility challenges, chronic health conditions, and a need for social interaction. Proper planning in construction ensures that the facility is not only safe but also welcoming and functional for its residents. Here’s a guide on how to prioritize comfort and safety in senior living construction.

1. Universal Design and Accessibility

One of the most important aspects of senior living construction is creating a space that’s accessible for people of all abilities. This is achieved through universal design—a concept that ensures buildings are usable by everyone, regardless of age or ability.

Some key features include:

Wide doorways and hallways: To accommodate wheelchairs and walkers.

Ramps and elevators: Eliminate the need for stairs, ensuring safe movement between floors.

Non-slip flooring: Reduces the risk of falls, which is a major concern for older adults.

Grab bars and handrails: Placed in hallways and bathrooms to aid mobility and provide extra support.

These elements not only help prevent accidents but also provide residents with a greater sense of independence.

2. Proper Lighting

Lighting is crucial for both safety and comfort. Older adults may have vision impairments, making it harder for them to see in dim or overly bright lighting conditions. When designing a senior living facility, it’s essential to ensure that lighting is well-distributed and appropriate for aging eyes.

Natural lighting: Use large windows and skylights to bring in natural light, which improves mood and helps regulate sleep patterns.

Motion-activated lighting: Especially in hallways and bathrooms, motion-activated lights can prevent accidents during the night by automatically illuminating the path.

Even lighting levels: Avoid sharp contrasts between light and dark areas, as these can be disorienting and increase the risk of falls.

3. Comfortable Living Spaces

Comfort extends beyond physical safety—it’s also about creating an environment where residents feel relaxed and at home. This means designing living spaces that are cozy, functional, and adaptable to individual needs.

Flexible room layouts: Allow for personalization of spaces so that residents can bring their own furniture and belongings, which adds familiarity.

Sound insulation: Helps create a peaceful environment by reducing noise from common areas or neighboring units, which is important for residents' comfort and well-being.

Climate control: Temperature regulation is vital in senior living facilities. Older adults are more sensitive to temperature extremes, so rooms should have easily adjustable thermostats, good ventilation, and heating/cooling systems that maintain consistent, comfortable temperatures.

4. Safety Systems and Technology

Modern technology can greatly improve the safety and comfort of senior living environments. From emergency response systems to smart home devices, technology allows for quick assistance and better monitoring of residents’ well-being.

Emergency call systems: Residents should have access to emergency call buttons in their rooms and common areas. These systems allow them to quickly call for help in case of a fall or medical emergency.

Smart sensors: Devices that detect unusual behavior, such as inactivity or wandering, can alert staff to potential problems before they escalate. These systems can be integrated into the facility’s design, improving safety without intruding on residents’ privacy.

Security systems: Cameras, secure entry points, and alarm systems help protect residents from external threats while maintaining a welcoming atmosphere.

5. Outdoor Areas

Outdoor spaces provide an opportunity for residents to enjoy fresh air, exercise, and social interaction. However, these spaces must be designed with safety and accessibility in mind.

Smooth, slip-resistant paths: Walking paths should be wide, even, and slip-resistant to reduce the risk of falls. Regular maintenance is also necessary to prevent hazards like cracks or uneven surfaces.

Shaded areas: Outdoor seating with ample shade helps protect residents from excessive sun exposure and heat.

Gardens and green spaces: Incorporating greenery can promote relaxation and well-being, offering a space for gentle activities like walking or gardening.

6. Community and Social Spaces

Senior living facilities are not just places to live—they are communities. Common areas should be designed to encourage interaction and foster a sense of belonging, which is crucial for emotional well-being.

Dining areas: Open, accessible dining spaces that allow for socializing during meals can enhance residents' daily experiences.

Activity rooms: Spaces for group activities, such as exercise classes or arts and crafts, help keep residents engaged and active. These rooms should be easily accessible and adaptable to different types of activities.

Conclusion

In senior living construction, comfort and safety are paramount. By focusing on universal design, proper lighting, comfortable spaces, modern safety technology, and well-designed outdoor and community areas, developers can create environments where older adults can live with dignity, security, and joy. Prioritizing these aspects not only ensures the well-being of residents but also helps foster a vibrant, supportive community.

[tobiasdrake]

Test of Will. Test of Will. I am a disciple of the moon. I am stubborn. I am persistent. I do not veer from the trail of self-destruction. And I go. Through. You.

Honestly, once you get over the imposing size, jacking you in the face is trivially easy. I float like a butterfly and sting like an angry butterfly carrying a little safety pin to make up for its evolutionary shortcomings.

Also, your shockwave move is only threatening if I'm on the ground. But with my wingsuit, I can soar like the majestic falcon. Which also means....

Yeah, I honestly don't even know what you're trying to do with this. Leaves you wide open.

WAIT DESTRUCTION EXPLOSIONS!?

...did... did I... oh no....

I THOUGHT THIS WAS LIKE A FRIENDLY SPARRING MATCH. Did I just KILL the Artificer?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Luana's going to be pissed. And her vindictive fury is legendary. As in, it makes up about 70% of her legend.

Oh goddess, we're directly in front of the Sea of Stars. Can she see me right now!?

...maybe if I break this it will all turn out okay. Break the doodad before she breaks my skull. She could be at any one of those stars oh goddess.

OH THANK THE GODDESS YOU GUYS ARE ALIVE

T-T I thought... I was so afraid that I'd really killed you all... That would have been so, so terrible....

...for me....

But I don't wanna. I've taken a lot of leaps already. Some were even voluntary. I have this magic seashell because I drowned myself in a pit of swamp gook. Can't you just use one of those leaps and call us square?

No. Because that's backwards. Hope is the driving force that motivates courage. Both the courageous and the craven are free to hope, but courage can't exist without hope. Hopelessly risking harm without regard to one's safety, throwing yourself in the line of fire because you genuinely don't care what happens to you, isn't courage. It's... something else.

Also--

"Hey, have you told Quarble about your cool magic robot fight yet?"

Oh fuck me, I was anticipating a hard stop not an acid trip through the bowels of time WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.

Regretfully, I seem to be alive. With a spiffy new hat. Like. Holy shit, my hat! Also, pauldrons! And... Yeah, this whole outfit owns.

Does this mean what I think it does? No more mail boy Scroll delivery! I am now officially a senior package transportation official!

I know this place. This is the Cloud Kingdom, where the Ovates constructed the Sky Giants to watch over the gateway to the Sea of Stars.

I KNOW RIGHT!? Look at this hat. This is the hat of a true warrior. But I have it instead! That's how cool I am!

Oh no, did something happen to the chatbots!? Did they fall into the sea because the teensy-tiny walkways they were given to live on were horribly unsustainable for beings of their size?

Look, what I do with powderized Time Shards is my own business. As the goddess teaches: "Sometimes the greatest joys can be found in the smallest of heresies."

Not 100% sure what she means by that but it helps to take the edge off after I've just had my esophagus wrapped around a tree branch. Sometimes, I get so fucked up that I swear I can see time. Other times, I just see Quarble.

Oh, fuck me. That is high. Well, I will remain secure in the knowledge that altitude doesn't matter because terminal velocity is a one-way ticket to chilling with my bestie regardless of context.

~_~ The fact that I have no idea how time travel connects to everything being weird now is not a confirmation of your insult. Because I said so.

WHAT. NO. FUCK YOU. It was supposed to send me to the past. Because the present is plagued by demons with humanity on their last legs. I can't solve that from the fucking future. Tower of Time ripped me off. I demand a refund, and to speak with the Tower's manag--

Oh, that's you.

...

Well, this is awkward.

...

OHHHHHH Everything looks so weird because the future is 16-bit. Gotcha!

<_<

>_>

EVEN IN HIGH-RES GRAPHICS!?

[eaglesnick]

“Leadership is a privilege to better the lives of others. It is not an opportunity to satisfy personal greed.” ~ Mwai Kibaki

Cash for honours? Who knows, but when you have donated £5 million to the Tory Party and are then knighted by Rishi Sunak for  “ business, charity and political service” a few eye brows are bound to be raised.

I am not sure what political service the Egyptian billionaire Mohamed Mansour has performed for Britain other than being a senior treasurer for the Conservative Party and donating £5 million pounds to their coffers in 2023. What we do know is that his time in Egyptian politics was rife with controversy.

In 2005 he was appointed Transport Manager under the Mubarak dictatorship. Mubarak was swept from power in 2011 after the Egyptian people had finally had enough of his dictatorial, undemocratic rule.   During this time:

“Mansour was known to be part of the team of Mubarak’s son, Gamal. The general public quickly came to think of this collection of businessmen as being in government to serve their own corporate empires..." (Middle East Eye: 16/12/22)

In October 2009, after two passenger trains collided causing the death of 50 people, Mansour was sacked from his post as Mubarak’s Transport Minister. Returning to his business empire, he was again embroiled in political scandal when he was accused of:

“…partnering up with his cousin, Ahmed al-Maghrabi, who had served as housing minister under Mubarak, to buy thousands of square kilometres of land to construct a residential compound for a fraction of its market price.” ((Middle East Eye: 16/12/22)

Another political controversy involved  sanction busting. In 2022 it came to light that Mansour’s Caterpillar dealership, Unatrac, was supplying machinery to Russia's oil and gas industry despite the international sanctions impose on Russia following Putin's invasion of Ukraine.

As for receiving a knighthood for his charity work, it seems he maybe less concerned with charity than in avoiding business taxes. Not only was Mansour’s company Unatrac trading with Russia despite international sanctions, it was also subject to HMRC investigations into tax avoidance.

“The firm co-owned by billionaire Tory treasurer Mohamed Mansour paid £3.2million in additional tax following an HMRC probe into the potential use of tax havens, it has emerged." (Sunday Mirror: 05/02/23)

Correct me if I am wrong, but surely if ALL taxes that are due were paid in full, then there would be less need for charity?

Billionaire Mansour, it would seem, is more interested in business, especially his own, than in politics or public service. The fact that the Tory Party are now prepared to accept money from donors who advocate the shooting of black MP's and from donors associated with dictators and tax avoidance says it all.

[beardedmrbean]

Nurses and senior management in Pirkanmaa are not seeing eye to eye, according to Helsingin Sanomat, after the wellbeing services county Pirha decided to start charging for phone consultations.

Since the middle of last month, Pirha started invoicing call-backs from staff at 30 euros a piece. So far patients have only been billed for calls made by doctors.

Pirha's head physician, Eija Tomás, argued that the new system will actually save patients money.

"The clinic visit fee and the old phone fee used to be 46 euros. If the patient's matter is such that they don't necessarily need to come in person, they now pay only 30 euros for handling their matter over the phone," she said.

Nurses have raised concerns that senior citizens living on modest pensions will lose out as healthcare moves toward telemedicine.

"These people won't become digitally savvy or wealthy, no matter how much we would like them to," one nurse told HS.

Russia's visa regime

Russia is working on easing visa procedures for several countries in the Middle East, Asia and Africa, reports Ilta-Sanomat, citing statements by Russian foreign ministry spokesperson Maria Zaharova.

Ilta-Sanomat asked Jarno Limnéll, a National Coalition Party MP, what Russia's long-term goal is in relaxing its visa rules.

Limnéll, a cyber security expert often cited in the media, said Russia may use visa-free travel as a tool for hybrid influence.

"If this is true, it's certainly aimed at facilitating people's access to Russia, and one reason may be this hybrid influencing and directing people towards the [Finnish] border," he said.

On Thursday the Finnish government has proposed allocating an extra 86 million euros for the Border Guard this year. The majority of the funds would go towards expediting the construction of fencing along Finland's border with Russia.

Borrowers wait for relief

Relief for mortgage holders may be slower than anticipated, reports Kauppalehti, even though Eurozone inflation slowed to 2.6 percent last month.

The 12-month Euribor, the most common reference rate in Finland, is expected to gradually decrease to below three percent around the turn of the year, according to the business daily.

"At the end of last year, we were expecting this [lower rates] a bit too much. Now it's clear that the development seems slower. But interest rate cuts will happen," Danske Bank research director Heidi Schauman said.

[crimsonscloud]

OLD LORE VERSION: please read the new version of brad's lore here!

large images + long post under the cut.

on the 12th hour of the first day of october 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. this was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day began. sir reginald hargreeves, eccentric asshole billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible. brad barrett was not one of them. (and, in brad's opinion, that was probably for the best.)

name: bradley barrett

nicknames: brad (preferred), walking glowstick (by five and lila), sparkler, starboy (by lila)

gender: male

date of birth: october 1, 1989

place of birth: belfast, northern ireland

faceclaim: pascal langdale

affiliation: the umbrella academy (unofficially)

relatives: erin barrett (mother, deceased)

biography:

as a young woman living in belfast during "the troubles", erin barrett was not at all in the position to be raising a child. especially not one that she hadn't had the time to plan for. but there was just something that rubbed her the wrong way about the strange man called hargreeves who came to her doorstep asking after her son. when he asked how much she wanted for him, she slammed the door in his face. she was pretty damn sure he was stalking her, perhaps waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal her baby from her.

but hargreeves did not pursue her. she'd come around eventually, he supposed. and if not, there would be others.

(in the end, he would only get seven.)

brad grew up unaware of the existence of the academy or of the significance of his birthdate. he had an aptitude for business that was noticed early, and in adulthood he found success as the manager of a branch of hotels that catered near exclusively to the wealthy and famous. he was also known for his tendency to throw extravagant parties to keep guests entertained.

it was at one such party that he met allison hargreeves.

while making small talk, they learned that they shared the same birthday. when the conversation turned to their childhoods, brad learned that allison also had powers, and that there were others just like them. when she described hargreeves, he recognized him as the strange man his mother had mentioned but chose not to tell her. he wasn't interested in meeting the man that tried to buy him from his mother, especially not after learning he had done the same to seven others. despite this, he and allison became friends, almost like siblings, and could often be found in each other's company.

however, the two drifted apart after allison lost custody of claire. it wasn't until hargreeves died that she reached out to him again, asking for emotional support; it was the first time she would be reconnecting with her adopted siblings, and she wanted to apologize for being distant and hopefully rekindle their friendship. he agreed, and took what he thought would be a short trip to the city to see her.

thanks to a pair of assassins, a time-traveling senior citizen in a child's body, and an impending apocalypse, his trip is anything but short.

powers and abilities:

plasma manipulation: brad can absorb ambient energy from his surroundings and convert it into superheated plasma. he can shape it into constructs or release it as concussive force blasts from his hands or, if charged enough, his entire body.

dagger creation: brad can generate daggers made of solidified plasma. once generated, he can telekinetically guide them to seek specific targets. if he gets stabbed by his own daggers, they just reabsorb back into his body. he can also spin them around himself to deflect smaller projectiles.

heat and light generation: brad can release stored energy as bright light and intense heat, hot enough to melt objects or leave burns with his touch. he's also unaffected by extreme heat and high temperatures.

healing touch: brad can heal wounds on others by channeling energy into them to speed up their natural healing process. it works better on minor injuries, anything immediately life threatening he can slow bleeding / help it close faster but it takes a lot out of him. he also can't fully heal illnesses.

self healing: brad can also heal himself and heals faster in the presence of a light source he can draw energy from, usually sunlight. this is also how he recharges his powers after using them.

flight: when everyone winds up in the sixties, brad learns how to project his energy in a way that lets him fly in sustained bursts. it takes him a few tries before he figures out how to control his landings, since he tends to be a little.... destructive with them.

superhuman sight: brad can see over greater distances and with better clarity than most, and to an extent in total darkness. in season three as the counterpart to viktor practicing his hearing, brad learns how to see a person's life force / aura.

weaknesses:

darkness: brad's powers aren't infinite. spending too much time in dark areas with no access to light renders him powerless until he can recharge.

drugs: more a psychological weakness than physical since he can self-heal, but large amounts of drugs / alcohol / etc can still affect his powers.

emotions: being supercharged or using a lot of power for an extended period tends to make brad more aggressive. strong emotions are also a general trigger for his powers.

energy depletion: if brad released all of his stored energy at once, he'd pass out afterwards. using his healing touch too many times also leaves him super drained.

limitations: there is an (as-yet undefined) upper limit to how much energy brad can absorb at once. if he went above this limit, his body would overheat and potentially explode.

other random facts:

his eyes, which are normally blue, turn gold when he uses his powers. the intensity depends on how much energy he's using.

lights also tend to flicker around him when his powers are active. if he uses enough energy he can make them burn out or shatter.

besides being fluent in english and irish he can also speak conversationally in spanish / understands some phrases in latin. (i like making my characters multilingual what about it)

when they meet the sparrows marcus assumes brad must be two if viktor is one, since they seem to be the more powerful ones. sparrow!ben is very confused as to why brad hasn't backstabbed viktor yet. no one corrects anyone on this until luther gets captured and asked about it.

sparrow!ben calls him "pretty boy" during the academy fight. brad thanks him and they continue fighting.

brad's parties were wild and involved a lot of drinking and drug use, but that part wasn't public knowledge.

he gets subject to quite a few "drunk irishman" jokes. jokes on everyone else, his powers make it harder for him to actually get drunk.... hence the excessive drinking. ironic.

doesn't bother to use a lighter when he smokes unless he's in public and has to hide his powers. he also tends to smoke more when he's stressed, but stops after the creation of the sparrow timeline. (not me paralleling him with s3!allison here...)

yes, he is named after the character from the listener. i just gave him a backstory and powers and stuck him into tua for funsies so he's mine now. don't ask why, all i did was watch the episode he was in and then my brain took off.

also a note about his fc: i'm aware pascal is older now but i specifically use pictures, gifs, etc. of him in the listener or earlier as references for brad's appearance.

he hates cold weather because it saps his energy faster.

he's bisexual and was already comfortably out by the time he met allison. klaus figures this out about him immediately upon meeting him.

after the events of season two he starts to see the umbrellas as like his family. they only find this out when he tells it to the sparrows once they learn he's not actually part of the academy.

i made the poster using this template, and i was inspired to make an items board by @evienovo's tua oc post!

the fonts i used for the items board label are josef pro bold ultra (first name) and parkson (last name).

[stvnmvrsh]

back to the old house - the smiths

Stan's right hand gripped the grimy steering wheel of his overworked pick-up truck as the other ran through his hair. Visiting his parents back in South Park was always difficult for him. He lived in San Diego now, working in construction as a senior project manager and living in a typical sloppy bachelor pad. He was now paying a visit to his hometown after his most recent major project at the request of his mother. South Park and its familiar embrace of snow-capped mountains, evergreen woods, and dysfunctional nature should have been comforting, but not to him.

He could feel his resolve crumble as he drove deeper into the town. His eyes scan his surroundings. At the elementary school that all his friends attended. There was the community center his parents had meetings. Craig's house, where Stan and his friends convinced him to use his birthday money to start a Peruvian flute band. Clyde's house, where his mother died on the toilet. That damn bus stop. Butters's house, where his horrible father grounded him constantly. Eric's, where he thought he could fly so he jumped off his roof. Then, his own. Stan's stare was trained on the house he grew up in.

He could feel his heart clench as he pulled into the driveway. He kills the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, his hand now resting on the door handle. He sighs dismally as he allows his vision to stray next door. Just as it has always been, that olive green house stood. Kyle's house. Out of all his childhood friends, he had at least expected Kyle to keep in touch with him. Except they hadn't. Too busy, he supposed. The last he heard from him was that he was pursuing a career in law, just like his father.

His eyes grow misty and he tilts his head back, trying to keep his tears from falling. Regret and longing fill his gut as he thinks of Kyle's curly, red hair. His aquiline nose, wispy lashes brushing up against gold-framed glasses, and smart mouth. His thoughts drift back to memories of years ago.

---

They were at Stark's pond where Kyle asked to meet up.

"I got accepted, Stan! Holy shit, I can't fucking believe it! I'm going to Yale! The Yale, Stan!" Kyle was elated, gripping the front of Stan's brown coat, whooping and bouncing up and down. Stan's smile was uncontrollable, reciprocating Kyle's.

"Confuckingrats, man. I'm so proud of you! If anyone does, you totally deserve it." Stan was brimming with the feeling. He watched Kyle excel in their academic careers, his intelligence rivaling Wendy's and Tolkien's, their class's valedictorian and salutatorian. He remembers holding up flashcards for him, helping him study at odd hours, and accompanying him on trips to the library. All his hard work paid off.

Suddenly, Kyle deeply frowned. Stan didn't have any time to ask him what the matter was as he saw Kyle's lower lip wobble. He found himself enveloped in Kyle's arms, holding onto each other tightly. He could smell the jojoba oil in his coiled tresses.

Kyle was wailing profusely into the crook of Stan's neck. His breath tickled Stan so bad, he erupted into goosebumps. "Are you shitting me? I couldn't have done this without you, you idiot. Sure, I had the brains to get this far, but you- you had my back when I needed you. You didn't have to do anything of the sort, but you did."

Stan melted further into Kyle's warmth as his throat tightened, burning. "I'd do anything for you, dude."

He thinks that was when he realized he loved Kyle for the first time.

---

Slowly but surely, they drifted apart. Being 2,865 miles away wasn't helping. Life simply just got in the way. Thus, Stan finds himself in his childhood house's driveway, relentless, involuntary tears running down his face, brooding over his incessant love for his friend.

He didn't know why he was so angry. Was it because they fell out? Or because he didn't put more effort into maintaining their relationship? Because he never got to tell Kyle he loved him?

Perhaps, it was all of it.