#dry needling benefits

[labsportstherapy]

Benefits of Dry Needling in Physical Therapy

Dry needling offers several benefits, particularly for those dealing with muscle tightness, strains & chronic pain. The technique helps reduces muscle tightness, eases muscle strains, improves range of motion, decreases pain, enhances recovery.

[medtac12]

 A guide on acupuncture and dry needling

For the purpose of treating various physical, mental, and emotional conditions and relieving pain, thin needles are inserted into the body during acupuncture and dry needling treatments. Acupuncture, which is a part of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM), has a long history of use in Asia. By focusing on specific body points, or acupoints, which correspond to particular organs or bodily systems, it aims to balance the body's energy flow (Qi) and restore health. Chronic pain, headaches, and emotional disorders are just a few of the conditions that can be treated with acupuncture. It is also used to promote general health and well-being. But usually there is a confusion between acupuncture and dry needling that bothers a lot of people.

Treating musculoskeletal conditions with dry needling is a contemporary Western strategy. It focuses on particular trigger points—areas of muscle tension or knots that can hurt or cause discomfort. Dry needling is primarily used to treat musculoskeletal conditions like chronic pain, muscle tension, and sports injuries. Selecting a qualified practitioner who is certified and trained in the specific technique you're interested in is crucial when thinking about acupuncture or dry needling. It's also crucial to understand exactly what the treatment entails and what to expect from it.

Is acupuncture needles the best or dry needling needles?

The condition being treated and the practitioner's preference will determine whether to use acupuncture needles or dry needling needles.

Compared to dry needling needles, acupuncture needles are typically thinner and more flexible because they are made for use in traditional Chinese medicine. They are employed to stimulate acupoints on the body, which are thought to correspond to particular organs or bodily systems. To balance the body's energy flow and promote health, acupuncture needles are used.

On the other hand, dry needling needles are typically thicker and stiffer, and they are made specifically to treat muscle tension and pain. They are used to target specific trigger points, which are knots or areas of muscle tension that can be painful or uncomfortable. To relieve muscle tension and increase range of motion, dry needling is done with needles.

The choice of needle type will depend on the practitioner's preference, the condition of the specific patient, and the intended outcome of the treatment. Both types of needles can be effective in treating pain.

So, what’s the major difference in both treatments?

The underlying philosophy and method of treatment used in acupuncture and dry needling differ significantly.

Traditional Chinese medicine (TCM), a holistic strategy for health and wellness, is the foundation of acupuncture. It focuses on acupoints, which are specific points on the body that correspond to particular organs or bodily systems, in order to balance the body's energy flow (Qi) and restore health. It is used to treat a variety of ailments, such as chronic pain, headaches, and emotional disorders, as well as to advance general health and wellbeing.

On the other hand, dry needling is a more focused and localized method of treating musculoskeletal pain and injuries. It targets particular trigger points—areas of muscle tension or knots that can hurt or cause discomfort. Most commonly, musculoskeletal conditions like chronic pain, muscle tension, and sports injuries are treated with dry needling.

Another distinction is that while dry needling is typically administered by physical therapists, chiropractors, or other healthcare professionals who have completed specialized training in dry needling, acupuncture treatment is typically provided by licensed acupuncturists who have completed specialized training in TCM.

Last but not least, in addition to acupuncture, other modalities may be used during treatment, including herbal remedies, cupping, moxibustion, etc., while the only tool used in dry needling is a needle.

[gorungophysio]

From Muscle Tension to Relief: How Dry Needling Can Transform Your Recovery

Are you tired of constant muscle tension that just won’t go away? Dry needling could be the game changer you’re looking for! Whether you’re searching for a dry needling treatment near me or just curious about this technique, let’s dive into how it can relieve muscle tightness and speed up your recovery.

What is Dry Needling?

Dry needling is a treatment that uses thin needles to target painful knots in your muscles, also known as trigger points. Unlike acupuncture, which focuses on energy flow, dry needling is all about muscle relief. The needles stimulate blood flow, loosen tight muscles, and help your body heal naturally. The benefits of dry needling go beyond just easing pain — it’s a powerful tool for recovery.

How Does Dry Needling Work?

Wondering how poking needles into your body can make you feel better? It’s all about targeting trigger points in your muscles. When the needles hit those tight areas, your body releases tension, boosts blood flow, and promotes healing. Essentially, dry needling hits the reset button on your muscles, helping them relax and function better. Many people, especially those suffering from dry needling for back pain, find quick relief and improved movement after just a few sessions.

Key Benefits of Dry Needling for Recovery

Immediate Pain Relief: Many people feel an instant reduction in pain after their session.

Better Range of Motion: If tight muscles are limiting your movement, dry needling can help you move freely again.

Faster Healing: Whether you’re recovering from a sports injury or dealing with chronic pain, dry needling speeds up the recovery process.

Reduced Muscle Tightness: Stiff muscles don’t stand a chance against this technique — it relaxes them quickly.

What Conditions Can Dry Needling Help With?

Dry needling can treat a variety of conditions, from everyday muscle pain to more serious injuries. It’s great for:

Muscle strains and sprains

Headaches and migraines

Dry needling for back pain and neck pain

Tendonitis

Sports injuries like shin splints or tennis elbow

If you’re located near Chadstone and are looking for relief, consider reaching out to a physiotherapist in Chadstone to explore this option.

What Happens During a Dry Needling Session?

During a session, a trained professional will insert tiny needles directly into the tight or painful areas of your muscles. You may feel a little discomfort, but most people find the relief afterward is worth it! The session is quick, and you’ll usually start feeling the benefits soon after.

Is Dry Needling Right for You?

Dry needling is perfect for anyone dealing with muscle tension, whether you’re an athlete or someone suffering from chronic pain. It’s always a good idea to consult a healthcare professional to see if it’s the best treatment for you.

Conclusion

If muscle tension is keeping you from living your best life, dry needling might be the solution. With its ability to provide fast pain relief, improve movement, and speed up recovery, it’s a powerful tool for anyone looking to feel better quickly. So, whether you’re looking for a dry needling treatment near me or just want to explore the benefits of dry needling, this treatment could be the key to a tension-free life.

[drandrewstherapeuticblogs]

Risks and differences: Acupuncture and Dry Needling

When carried out by a qualified and licenced practitioner, acupuncture and dry needling are typically regarded as safe practices. However, both techniques do carry some potential risks, just like any medical procedure.

Acupuncture-related risks include the following.

discomfort or pain at the injection site.

bruising or bleeding.

infection (rare, but possible if needles are not sterile).

Internal organ damage is uncommon but possible if needles are inserted too deeply.

The dangers of dry needling include the following.

Inflammation or discomfort at the injection site.

bleeding or bruising.

(Rare, but possible if needles are not sterile) infection.

damage to blood vessels or nerves.

soreness following a procedure.

It's crucial to remember that these risks are typically uncommon and can be reduced by selecting a licensed professional who uses sterile needles and adheres to the right safety procedures. Additionally, before the procedure, it's crucial to let your doctor know about any medical issues or prescription drugs you are currently taking.

How acupuncture and dry needling helps?

Both dry needling and acupuncture are thought to work by triggering the body's natural healing response to reduce pain and muscle tension.

The principles of traditional Chinese medicine are the foundation of acupuncture, which is used to balance the body's qi (chi) flow. This idea holds that a blockage or imbalance of qi in the body is what causes illness and pain. To restore the balance of Qi and encourage healing, acupuncture needles are inserted into particular body points known as acupoints.

On the other hand, dry needling is based on Western anatomical and neurophysiological principles. Thin needles are inserted into trigger points, which are tight knots or bands of muscle that can form in response to injury or overuse. Through the release of tension and the lowering of pain, dry needling is thought to stimulate the muscle tissue and encourage healing.

Numerous conditions, such as myofascial pain syndrome, chronic pain, and headaches, have been treated using both methods. Additionally, they help people with conditions like neck pain, back pain, and other musculoskeletal conditions move more freely and function better. It is important to note that more research is necessary to fully comprehend the effectiveness and possible risks of both acupuncture and dry needling. Why are acupuncture and dry needling differs?

There are many differences between acupuncture and dry needling, including their historical roots, underlying theories, and the particular ailments they are used to treat.

Acupuncture is a form of traditional Chinese medicine that is based on the idea that disease and discomfort are brought on by an imbalance or obstruction of the body's energy, or Qi. In order to restore the Qi's balance and encourage healing, acupuncture needles are inserted into specific body points known as acupoints. Pain, infertility, anxiety, and depression are just a few of the many conditions that are frequently treated with acupuncture.

On the other hand, dry needling is based on Western anatomical and neurophysiological theories. It involves inserting tiny needles into particular muscle trigger points, which are tight bands or knots that can form as a result of injury or overuse. Myofascial pain syndrome, chronic pain, and headaches are just a few of the conditions that are treated with dry needling. Additionally, it helps people with conditions like neck pain, back pain, and other musculoskeletal conditions move more freely and perform better.

Acupuncture is based on traditional Chinese medical principles and is used to balance the body's energy flow, which is another significant distinction. Western anatomical and neurophysiological principles serve as the foundation for dry needling.

Acupuncture needles are also inserted into specific body points with the goal of balancing Qi, whereas dry needling needles are inserted into specific muscle tissue points to stimulate the muscle tissue and promote healing by releasing tension and reducing pain.

[hyper-fixates]

Tears of Blood

König x AFAB!reader (no pronouns/gendered language).

Explicit content (18+)

Word count: 3.0k

Tags/warnings: unprotected sex, light choking, mentions of murder/blood (look who we’re working with), mentions of ghostsoap (yay!), explicit language, some fluff, dry humping, friends with benefits…? (let me know if anything was missed!)

Summary: König reveals a very compelling detail about himself while you prepare him for tomorrow's deployment—also inspired by this post/ask and bluegiragi’s art <3

Notes: this has been posted on AO3 for over a year and i just straight up forgot to post it here, too…oops

The barracks are eerily quiet after curfew. So quiet, in fact, that a ghost couldn’t even float around without being heard. Sometimes there is one, he’s just not of the conventional sort.

You’ve learned that Soap gladly let’s his room be haunted most nights.

König never says a word about it. If he did, he’d be a hypocrite. Especially now, as he drifts to the door of your room: after curfew.

By now, you know to leave it unlocked for him. You don’t know when it started becoming habit, but it did. A mindless gesture that makes his lips quirk under the hood when he turns the knob and feels the door give in with no resistance.

You’ve grown used to seeing his figure loom in the doorway, but sometimes your brain forgets it’s just him, and your heart instinctually stutters a beat out of fear as you see the shadows from the dim lighting hug around his broad, towering form—just as imposing and threatening even without the gear.

You’ve mentally noted that not everyone that casts their gaze, usually a fearful and watery one, upon him lives to do so again. But you are fortunate. You never let yourself forget what he’s been trained to do—what he does. He doesn’t like to indulge in it much, if at all, and his hesitance to do so makes you think it’s better if you don’t know the complicated details anyway.

KorTac has quite a different reputation than the 141. König helped make sure of that.

You finish folding the rest of your civvies, tucking them away in their small drawer, and toss a look over your shoulder to the man lingering in the doorway. “See any ghosts?” you muse, prompting König to step in and lock the door behind him.

A breathy chuckle fills the room. “Didn’t see anything, but I wish these rooms were soundproof.”

“Oh, no.” You hold a cackle, hand slapped over your mouth as you meet his amused eyes through the rough-edged holes of his hood.

“Well, that’s just Soap for you. Not even Ghost can shut him up, I guess.” You plop onto your bed with a sigh to compose yourself.

You know Soap will indulge you later.

“So, how may I be of service to the king?” You offer a playful smile as he stands at the foot of your bed. The unexpected nickname making him more interested in the flooring.

He brings a finger up to the black hood, hooking it in by his jaw and pulling to reveal a sizeable gash in the fabric. A close call with a knife if you ever saw one. “Needle and thread.”

He unhooks his finger and drags the worn material off of his head, then the plain black balaclava that hides him further under it follows. He drops both onto your clean sheets in front of him, rounding the corner of the bed and joining you.

Dark red hair flops over his forehead and hangs in thick, wavy strands. It hasn’t quite reached his shoulders yet, but it’s long enough to have a mind of its own. It’s a colour you don’t come across too often; maybe comparable to a chestnut, or old leaves in autumn before they disappear under a blanket of snow.

“Jeez, you ever gonna cut this?” You turn to face him and run a hand up the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the dense locks and lightly scratching his scalp on the way down.

Soft blue eyes glance to you, still outlined in black from earlier. “Probably not. Can’t find the time.” His accent gently rounds out the vowels as he leans into your touch.

“Let me braid it for you, then. To hold it back. I know you deploy again tomorrow.” You tuck a strand behind his ear, following with a fleeting kiss right above his cheekbone. A faint blush creeps over his temples and the barely-there freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

“I promise it won’t be the worst thing ever,” you gently plead. “You can mend your hood in peace while I do it?”

You’ve definitely done worse together. But worse always seems to be easier.

“Okay.”

Usually these nights don’t go like this.

3 days ago

“Oh, that’s good—right there. Yeah. Yeah,” you nearly sob. König holds you against him, left arm reaching across your chest and hand comfortably gripping your throat as you try to roll your hips back against him harder.

His other hand is between your thighs—on your clit—which are dangling over his own to keep you spread. You’re trapped there; under his arms and over his legs as he jerks his hips up to meet your disjointed riding on the rickety office chair.

An empty briefing room. Not really smart, but Soap passed on that it was “out of service” until next week, not knowing that you’d end up in there sat on König’s cock later that afternoon.

The fabric of König’s hood rubs uncomfortably against your cheek, making you drop your head back onto his shoulder to escape it.

A breathy moan rushes past his lips as you arch your back. “No, no. You’re staying right here.” He tightens and corrects the grip he has across your chest, sliding his gloved fingers up under your jaw to keep you locked in place.

His cock slides itself in and out of you with little resistance, which would usually be slightly embarrassing if it was anyone else inside you, but the way he’s been massaging your clit with such attentiveness and grinding his hips into yours makes you forget anything you could be worried about.

The only thing you can think of right now is how good this orgasm is going to be.

Your hands snake themselves up his arm that’s pinned to your front to grip his wrist, holding on for dear life as his small thrusts become rougher. “You get much, much wetter when you’re close,” he observes. His index finger holds a steady rhythm on your clit as it works counterclockwise over you. “Fuck, I can hear it…can you?”

A whine bubbles in your throat. The zipper of his cargo pants bites against your ass on every downstroke, and you can feel how wet you’ve made the front of his pants. That’s what he gets for only caring enough to pull his cock out while he ripped your cargos off entirely.

“I—fuck. Yes, I’m close, yes,” you choke out, daring to cast your gaze upon where your bodies are connected.

You’re swollen and slick and you can hear it, too. The quick, sharp slaps of his hips against your ass does little to hide the hungry squelching of your cunt. You’ve probably dripped all down his balls at this point. He’s always happier with a big mess in the end anyway.

“Cum when you’ve had enough, Schatzi,” he chirps in your ear, breathless and lost in the wet, suffocating warmth of you—all his doing, of course. The result of far too many minutes spent with his thick cock gently sliding between your folds and nudging itself over your throbbing clit, just to be annoying, before he moved you both to the chair.

You drag in a heavy breath, focusing on the stretch of his cock deep inside your walls as the chair creaks with every desperate drop onto him.

Schatzi. “W-what does that mean?”

You’ve naturally picked up a few German words and phrases here and there from time spent with him, but this one was new. A term of endearment? A degrading nickname? Either could be possible in this moment. The sound and pronunciation couldn’t be more ambiguous to you.

“König?” It came out as a whisper, quickly silenced by the release of your orgasm throughout your body as he forces you down to the base of his cock.

—

You haven’t brought it up since. Neither has he.

Even now it sits in the back of your mind as you divide his hair down the middle into two parts. You remain on your bed, he sits on the floor between your knees with a needle and black thread in hand that he retrieved from the bedside table (stashed there specifically for him).

He lays the hood over his left arm and begins to stitch it quietly as you wind three generous strands of his hair between your fingers at the front of his scalp, pulling taught at the root. You carefully thread more hair in from the sides to have it lay perfectly against the top of his skull when finished. You’ll do a matching one on the right side.

“Let me know if it hurts at all,” you warn as you begin tugging more hair into place.

“Ha, I’ve faced adversaries far worse than your little hands,” he laughs, adjusting the hood in his hand as he pokes the needle in again.

The long vermillion markings under the eye sockets stare back at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

It’s hard to not be curious about all of the parts that make up “König”. The mask is one of them.

“Why the tears?” you ask confidently while you establish the first braid.

“Hm?” He quirks his head to follow your voice, pausing the followthrough with the thread as you give an accidental yank to his hair.

“Your mask…under the eyes. Why tears?” You figured it was either something symbolic or just his personal taste. Everyone’s got a gimmick.

It seems like every aspect of his existence is a test of one’s curiosity, and you may have just failed.

He focuses his attention back on the stitch he was occupied with. “Fear tactic.” Oh.

Short and sweet. Simple and straightforward. It makes sense—

“I make them with the blood of my targets.” Oh.

Your fingers lose their rhythm for a moment, caught off-guard by the admission. Not so much surprised by the fact that he would do something like that, but rather that he confessed such a thing…to you.

“So you do that…presently?” How could you resist following up about that? It’s the perfect snare. This is the most you’ve gotten from him in weeks.

A beat of measured silence, yet it’s not uncomfortable. He likes to think about what to say, how to say it, before speaking his thoughts spontaneously.

“Only if I believe it’s truly deserved,” he explains. His tone doesn’t reveal if he’s displeased with the topic of work. “The blood actually doesn’t hold up against the black on its own, so Horangi suggested using bleach underneath so it will show better. If needed.” He runs a finger over a washed-out tear track. “Less maintenance with the chemical.”

It’s…it’s morbid, obviously, but you’re not sure if you expected anything less from someone in this line of work. And, of course, leave it to Horangi to feed the fantasy. They are nearly inseparable, besides the times that König’s with you.

Sometimes it’s hard to imagine him as murderous or malevolent—König, who has the most gentle, innocent blue eyes that have offered nothing but kindness to you, even in moments of fierce, consuming pleasure. König, who you’ve never seen, or heard, raise his voice at anyone in anger. König, who despises small talk because he can’t stand the awkwardness.

König, who enjoys the vibrant red sunsets on base and thunderstorms. König, who prefers blueberries over strawberries. König, who is obsessed with entomology books.

But there’s still another part of him that can take out entire platoons of enemies and have no more than a rip in his beloved hood afterwards.

The man under the facade of a callsign and reputation is someone who you may never truly meet, no matter how much he reveals. It feels like you’ve only met half of him despite knowing as much as you do about him, and that fact has settled as an ache in your chest.

“I see…I know it’s not really my place to ask about that stuff, but it’s hard to not wonder about you sometimes.” You’ve reached the end of the first braid, leaving the tail to sit at the crown of his head amongst the uneven layers he has going on.

You tie it off with a small black elastic. It’s a little messy considering the awkward length of his hair, but it looks like it’s meant to be there.

“It’s fine. I’m a big boy, I think I can handle it.” He gives a comforting laugh, amused at your timidness.

In every facet, he’s right. You can’t help but nod your head in agreement with a small smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your expression. “Well, I can’t disagree with you there.”

You begin the start of the second, and final, braid, grabbing the three strands at the front and twisting them into place as he speaks again. “I know it was my size that drew you to me in the first place,” he states confidently, shoulders shaking in amusement at the tease.

Your mouth gapes in feigned offence. “Wow, okay. Is that a crime?”

“No, not in my eyes. Look, look,” he brushes past the sarcasm, holding and stretching the now intact hood out in front of him to see the effectiveness of his handiwork. The seam is near invisible in the sea of black fabric (a ratty t-shirt).

It’s definitely better than the last one he did a few weeks ago. “Damn, that’s pretty fucking impressive. I’m almost done, hold on.” You hurry to tie off the hair, gently holding the sides of his head to see how even they came out. “Looks good, from up here at least. Come sit, let me see the front.” You pat one of his shoulders, freeing him from the cage of your legs and scooting further onto your bed.

“Danke. My spine didn’t love that, though,” he says with a theatric exhale.

He folds the hood in his lap, setting it on the bedside table with the needle and roll of thread. He all but tumbles back onto the soft sheets, groaning as he stretches his neck and shoulders out and lays comfortably on his back, long legs hanging over the side of the mattress.

His eyes flutter shut from the homely feeling of being in—or on—your bed. “Mm, I think I’ll stay here tonight.”

You acknowledge his thought with a small hum as you lean over his restful form to quickly assess his hair, dragging your fingertips along each side lightly. The shaggy hair will always suit him. It frames his cheekbones and jaw perfectly.

König opens his eyes at your touch. “So how does it look, doc? Will I survive deployment now?”

Another smile from you with a slight roll of your eyes. “I think it’ll do the job. Now go clean the black off your eyes if you’re staying. I don’t want it all over my pillows again.”

—

Soap saw the braids in König’s hair the next day before they deployed. An accident or purposefully, you’re not sure yet.

And now, two days later, he still won’t shut the fuck up about it.

“Would ye do that for me?” he asks, playfully quirking a thick brow.

“Probably not, no.”

An arm shoots out accusingly at you in disbelief. “That’s my point! I—”

“Wouldn’t be able to anyway with that fucking landing strip you call a mohawk.” You poorly stifle a laugh with a tight-lipped smirk.

“Away n’ bile yer heid, I’m just trying to help!” He rubs a hand over his eyes, trying to stave off his laughter too. It’s hard to be in his presence and not be overcome with a state of lively energy.

You’re in Soap’s—and sometimes Ghost’s—room, for no real reason other than company while König is at a (delayed) briefing.

Soap’s sitting on his—and sometimes Ghost’s—bed hounding you about the complex being that is König just because he can. You move about the room, finding things to tidy and organize to busy your mind.

“Have ye gone to town on each other yet?”

“Dude!?” You rip a pillow from under him and whack his head. Hard. His infectious cackling now muffled through the thick pillow.

“You’re insufferable. How the fuck does Ghost put up with you?” You try to suppress your giggling as you drop the pillow and join him on the bed in defeat.

A mischievous grin lines his lips at the question. “Well, he t—”

“No! No. Nope. I don’t need to know. It was rhetorical.” You hold up a hand to silence him, bringing it to cover his mouth. His day-old scruff pricks your palm as he tries to talk through your hand.

“Whatever you say next better be insightful or profound or else I’m gonna suffocate you with your own pillow.”

Soap, in fact, didn’t have anything insightful or profound to say about the situation.

— 

König wanders into your room again that night, and he’s filled with a gluttonous desire to consume you in any way that he can. 

It’s the least he can do for you. It’s the most you can do for him.

You rut against his clothed cock, straddling his hips tightly while your hands keep a death-grip on his hair. Once again, you find yourself on your bed with him under you, the clock on the bedside table glaring the angry red 12:56am.

His large hands have found their home on your ass, encouraging your pussy—still covered by your underwear—to rock harder over his length, which is still trapped in his briefs. 

He breaks away from your mouth when you give a rather forceful roll over him, a surprised gasp slipping through his now rosy lips. His grip on your ass slides down to your quivering thighs, rubbing over them soothingly as you work.

A harmony of softs whines and rough groans dance around the room as your pliant bodies move together. “This is somehow better than sex,” König mumbles, mostly to himself. “I don’t want to admit it, but I can cum like this if you don’t stop,” he adds with an overwhelmed huff. “Fuck, I will cum like this if you don’t stop,” he moans.

You let him, and he holds you tight as if you were something other than casual.

[nymphofnovels]

How to Make Replicas of Your Own Teeth: A Cosplay Toothtorial

This is a method to safely use a molded mouth guard to make duplicates of your own teeth without destroying a potentially expensive piece of dental equipment. Everything that goes into the mold—clay and mold release aid—must be nontoxic/edible so you can wash your mouth guard at the end of the process and continue to use it as normal. 

Benefits: No mold-making or casting experience required Lightweight end result Adds a truly personal touch to your project :)

Downsides: Must own a molded mouth guard/retainer End result can be fragile and needs proper sealing for durability

Supplies

Molded mouth guard/retainer (referred to as “mold” from here on)

Cornstarch

Soft/fluffy brush

Non-toxic white air dry clay (I used Crayola Model Magic)

Craft knife

Jewelry wire (I used 20 or 22 gauge)

Pins/yarn needle/any various household implements you can sculpt or smooth small details with

Acrylic paints and a variety paint brushes

Clear glossy top coat (I used Mod Podge (satin) and UV Resin)

Prep

Brush or otherwise clean your mouth guard if you haven’t already, especially if there’s build-up.

If you’re using your container of cornstarch for cooking, set aside a small container specifically for crafting. No accidental cross-contamination here!

Dip your fluffy brush into cornstarch and brush into your DRY mouth guard. Lightly coat the entire mold and distribute any clumps. This coat of cornstarch will make it easier to remove your teeth from the mold.

Molding

Firmly press clay into the mold so that approximately half is in the mold, half is sticking out for root sculpting. Make sure there are no air pockets or you won’t pick up the details. 

Use detail scissors/craft knife to cut away excess material and indent to mark out the divisions between teeth as visible on the gum lines (see above)

Reference a tooth diagram like the one below and separate out the roots for each tooth. Front teeth tend to have 1 leg, middle teeth have 2 legs, and some molars have 3+. I personally found that my limit was 2 roots. Sculpting 3+ roots on a single tooth was more difficult and more fragile than anatomical accuracy was worth. 

Demolding

You can demold immediately after sculpting or wait up to an hour. The faster you remove the teeth, the easier they are to reshape. The longer you wait, the more they resist unintentional denting BUT the more touch-ups you'll have to do to clean the edges between teeth.

Gently lift the full row of teeth from the mold. If it won't release when you tip the mold or or push at it, try using a pin to stab one of the end teeth and use that to pry up the teeth. The rest of the row should follow. If they don't, try repeating for the other side. If they're still not lifting, set aside to dry and try again ~15-30min later.

Gently cut apart the u-shape into individual teeth.

Press raw cut edges in and smooth with various tools, like a yarn needle. Use a craft knife to help trim off any excess clay.

Touch-ups

In the case of air pockets or if you accidentally remove a root, wet some clay and use a very small amount to fill in gaps or add on roots. Don't forget the water! It makes the clay stickier and smooth out better. This is where tools come in handy, wet clay sticks less to smooth objects than your fingertips!

Once repaired, set aside any wet pieces to dry for at least 15min before doing any more sculpting work.

Set all teeth aside to dry for several hours on a wax paper or other non-stick surface. Make sure it's not textured or it will leave an imprint on your teeth!

Flaws like the chip on the top left tooth and the cracks on the middle bottom teeth are great candidates for smoothing out with a little extra clay.

**PAUSE HERE AND CLEAN YOUR MOUTH GUARD**

I personally like to rinse it out with water and clean it with a dissolving denture cleaning tablet to make sure it’s fully sanitized. It also doesn’t hurt to properly brush the mouth guard to make sure there’s no clay or cornstarch residue stuck in the crevices.

Holes

Test a tooth to check if it’s dry to the touch and doesn’t immediately deform to your touch. If it’s holding shape, you can move on.

Bore a hole into the tooth with a pin or jewelry wire. Consider how you want them to hang. A) For the central dangling teeth on Harrowhark’s choker, I punched holes as close to the tip of the root as possible without tears, perpendicular to the teeth so I could hang them on jump rings directly from the center brooch. B) For the teeth intended for Harrow’s tabard, I punched two sets of holes parallel to the jaw to prevent teeth from flipping around. One set just under the tooth cap, approx. 1/8in down, and one set about the same distance from the roots.

Once a hole has been punched with a pin, wiggle it around a little to open the hole or thread it on a piece of jewelry wire.

Leave teeth on a piece of wax paper or strung on a thread/wire to dry for ~48hr (or as recommended for your clay).

Painting/Weathering

Mix a small amount of yellow-brown paint with water to create a wash (middle palette above). Paint all of your teeth with this first to establish a base color and help define any hairline cracks.

Paint with less diluted yellows and browns (right palette above). Refer to photos like the below for reference (try searching "teeth" and "archaeology"). NOTE: The root tends to be darker and more weathered than the main tooth because it isn't protected by enamel.

Dry brush ivory or white mixed with some yellow/brown onto the tooth cap to bring out highlights.

Finishing

Your air dry clay teeth and paint job will need a top coat for protection. I highly recommend a glossy clear top coat to give the look of enamel. Below is a comparison of the two sealants I used, but there's many more options out there!

UV Resin (Left) Pros: Harder/more durable Cures faster Cons: Need to work during daylight or use a UV light Harder to get a thin even layer Requires more set up and safety precautions

Satin Mod Podge (Right) Pros: Can be applied with a brush Air dries Cons: Takes longer to dry Teeth tend to stick together unless kept below room temp or kept from touching each other (I solve this by storing unused beads in an old pill bottle in the fridge. Yes it's cursed and Yes I've had comments from my housemates.)

As mentioned earlier, thread teeth on a wire or pin down to dry. This method also works well to set up for spray painting a clear coat.

Now, go forth and enjoy everyone's reactions when you tell them that you're wearing your own teeth! :D

[pansyfemme]

how did you get into making kandi? it looks cool & i want to try but idk where to start

honestly my best advice is to just jump into it. the supplies i find best for beginners and bascially what i use is:

-standard size pony beads (beadtin.com has the best prices if you’re making a large order or need a lot of a specific color but they’re easy enough to find as it is, dollar tree has some, not of great quality, but its how i started out.)

-cloth covered elastic stretch cord, i use 1mm. as tempting as it is, avoid ‘stretch magic’ or other clear stretch cords or uncovered elastic, the first dry rots over time and the second snaps easily. i know its annoying that it’s not clear but your peices will benefit from it. alternatively, if you are making a mask or bikini or a strap for a bag or something else that does not need to stretch, use fishing line, it’s very strong and stiff so it will make your rows look way neater and not get stretched out with wear. (again, only do this with peices that do not need to be stretched, if you use fishing line on a cuff you will regret it)

-yarn needle (plastic or metal, i use a metal one. make sure its small enough to fit through beads but large enough to be able to fit your cord.) you dont technically have to use one but it is a lot easier when you’re doing stitches

- scissors + a lighter for burning ends if needed

and then it’s youtube tutorials.. theres just about everything you need on there but i reccomend learning the peyote (odd and even variations), x-base and multistitch stitches. more complex tutorials expect you to know how to do those stitches so they’re a good place to start.

while all of these stitches are very versitile, x-base is most commonly used as the base for 3d cuffs. peyote is often used for making flat panels seen in purses and bikinis, and multistitch is often used to make cuffs. kandipatterns.com has a ton of free to use patterns for peyote and multistitch, though it took me forever to learn how to read a pattern effectively. there are more stitches ofc but those are the ones you see most. good luck and have fun!

i personally got into it in highschool, around the beginning of my sophmore year? my early cuffs were not great quality, but it’s cool to see how i’ve grown since then!

kandi is a community that is extremely friendly and encouraging to beginners and theres guides and tutorials for just about everything, and plenty of people willing to answer questions.

[ameliathornromance]

The Manor House: A Vampire Romance: Chapter 1

“... It’s just as I thought.” The Lord said, absently. His hands were ice cold, pressed against the sides of your head, forcing you to look at him as he examined your now exposed wound. 

The musty air stung as the Lord tilted his own head to one side, eyebrow raised. You clenched your jaw, trying to redirect some of the pain.

“What is?” You asked as he relinquished his grip on you. Flexing your jaw, the Lord turned his attention to a steel tray on your bedside. 

On it, there was an array of matching medical tools, a scalpel, needle holders, surgical scissors, clamps, curettes, gauze, small brown bottles and jars of mysterious liquids and salves with unintelligible labels, yellowed with age. 

“The head is full of capillaries because of the brain and how the body needs to protect the brain.” The Lord answered, “because of that, when you hit your head and it bleeds, it looks like you’re losing a dangerous amount of blood. But you’re not.” He sighed. “You’re lucky that it was only a small cut you got.”

Rolling up his sleeves, he uncorked one of the brown bottles and poured some clear liquid on his hands. The putrid smell of chemicals consumed the air as the Lord cleaned his hands with it, up to his elbows. He gave a shake of his hands to dry off the liquid. 

As he picked up one of the small jars, a thought occurred to you. “Where’d you get all this stuff?” It’s not like any Lord would just have all this lying around his Manor. Some of the Doctors at your village were third or fourth born Lords, while others had a magikal background. 

Lord Baal didn’t seem like he was kind enough to be tending to the ill and diseased… unless it benefitted him in some way.  

“I’ve always had medical supplies.” He said, simply. “I was a sickly child. I needed surgery and care often. It just became easier to have all the relevant materials at the Manor since it’s so far away from any town that may have a Doctor.” 

His answer made you frown. 

Lord Baal unscrewed the cap, placed it on the steel tray delicately. Using his middle and index finger, he dug into the salve. The salve looked like it had been made from beeswax, matching the honey yellow of Bee hives. 

During the night at the Manor, as you fell in and out of your dreamless slumber, you found yourself disturbed. Not by any sound… because there wasn’t any. Normally, you can feel the presence of other people, or hear them bustling around as they worked or got ready for the day. 

But there was none of that in this Manor. The silence was muted, suffocating. Unnerving.

Surely if the Lord was often ill as a child, there would be others around to keep an eye on him? To make sure that his body doesn’t fall back into old habits?

Of course, it could just be that due to your dulled senses, you just hadn’t picked up on other people in the Manor. You had been confined to this room after all, and had only been there a day or two.

The sharp sting of the thick salve being pressed into your fresh wound made you hiss out your thoughts, “so, why are you tending to my wounds then?” 

The Lord’s hand flinched away from your wound. “Sorry?” His tone dipped, like you’d just asked him what colour his underwear was.

“You’re a Lord, aren’t you? Aren’t there servants or anyone who would attend me?” You asked. 

You watched the Lord’s expression, waiting for him to contradict you, or say something demeaning for daring to question him.

But the shocked expression didn’t change. “There… isn’t anyone else.” His tone was solemn. Isolated. “It’s just me here.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. The Lord scoffed. “You should consider yourself lucky to be attended to personally by a Lord of the Manor. Not many peasants get this kind of treatment.” 

“Peasant?” You repeated, indignantly. “I’m not a peasant!”

“Well with how you looked on the river bank, any commoner would have thought otherwise.” And with that, the Lord pressed his salved fingers into your wound.

“Ow!” You yelped like a pathetic animal.

“Oh hush.” He said, dismissively. “Like I said, it’s not that bad.” Lord Baal snatched up a gauze from the tray and forced it onto your cut, using bandages to secure it.

“Since it’s not as bad as I initially thought, tomorrow we will go through what you will be doing in the Manor to repay me.” He repeated his cleaning process once again, drying his hands on a few gauze and throwing them on the tray. “And then, I will set you to work.” 

You placed your hand gingerly on the raised bandage, where the gauze was. The pressure helped to soothe the stinging.

Lord Baal opened the bedroom door. “Our little chat helped me decide on what you should do. So get some rest, you’re going to need it.” And with that, he shut the door behind him, taking the used medical materials with him.

“‘Little chat’ my ass.” You muttered, still holding your head.

A Lord, with no servants?

You thought that they revelled in that. Having people to work under them, slaving away at doing all the difficult tasks while they put their feet up. Had the best food in all of the land and watched while their ‘lowers’ suffered. 

… Perhaps that’s why he had such a strong reaction to it. A Lord should have people below him, it was almost like a status symbol.

Maybe that’s why he wanted you to work for him. So, he could feel that sense of undeserved superiority. Even if you did owe him a favour, massaging his ego was not what you had in mind. 

In any case, working for the Lord was better than seeing the Witch Hunter again.

You rolled over to face the other side of the room.

Tomorrow, the real work begins.

Read 4 Chapters ahead on my Patreon!

Masterlist

[belle--ofthebrawl]

For @budgieio, who wanted to know about what happened to Dew after the Ghangbang faded to black.

Spoiler alert: Suffering.

Dew's wrecked. He's cum so hard, so many times he can feel it in his hands and feet, pins and needles pricking all over as Mountain continues to fuck him through it, keeping Dew's hips angled to rub over his sweet spot with every thrust. He hears the others talking amongst themselves, Swiss' voice cutting through the haze of pleasure.

"No, I'm tellin' ya." He says, sounding excited. "From this angle, you can see-"

Dew cries out weakly as his cock flexes, cumming dry and untouched. Mountain hums in approval and sits him down to the very base of his cock, where the swell of his knot is beginning to puff up.

"Take it," Mountain moans, forcing him down as he snaps his hips up. "Oh, take it Dew, good-, you feel so good, you're still so tight."

Dew whimpers, his toes curling. Mountain's just that fucking big, still able to stretch Dew out even after everyone had shot their load in him. He catches movement from his peripheral, bodies jostling each other at the side of the bed.

"Told you." Swiss breathes.

"Damn," Aether says in agreement.

Rain just drools and wipes his mouth on the sheets, hand moving frantically where Dew can't see it. He bites the mattress as his eyes roll back, whole body shuddering as he cums on the carpet.

"Gonna get you so big here," Mountain moans, for their benefit, Dew thinks. One big hand presses to his abdomen and it clicks.

"No," he says, scared. "No, please, I can't-"

"Tie you, lock it all in." Mountain huffs, grinding his knot into Dew. It's getting big. Bigger. He can't escape it. "You promised you'd take all of us."

Dew's legs bend sharply, trying to hide the way his stomach curves ever so slightly outwards but Aether presses his knee back down.

"Let us see it." He murmurs. "Let's see the way he changes you."

It shouldn't be physically possible. That type of shit they're talking about, it can't be. But as Mountain starts to cum, Dew 's eyes drop to his belly in horrified arousal. He's so small, so slight, his belly so flat that he can see the way his stomach moves as Mountain's big cock pushes inside him one final time before his knot swells up for good.  His arms come up, hanging in the air as he pants before he covers his mouth so they can't hear how fucked up his scream is, how much he likes it. Likes the way he can see each pump of Mountain's cum distend his belly just a little bit more.

"So fucking full." Aether sighs and Swiss nods. His right arm starts moving in a telltale manner while the other one jostles Rain. Poor Rain in his post-orgasm haze topples over. Swiss considers him with an appraising look on his face. 

"Waste not want not." He says, before dropping down and soon, more wet and filthy sounds could be heard, interspersed with Rain's pleased cries, the water ghoul's legs hooking shakily up in the air as Swiss threw them over his shoulders.

"Look at you, Dew." Aether says in admiration, resting his head on his fist. Dew closes his eyes but he can't escape anywhere. Physically, mentally. He's surrounded with every kind of sensory reminder of how thoroughly his packmates own him.

He shivers with private and terrified delight.

[tangent101]

Laudna's Gifts from Delilah

For a bit I've been one of a number of people who misunderstood the Hunger of the Shadow Shard ability that Laudna has - partly because until recently we'd not heard its full name, and also because of the new ability Laudna just picked up thanks to her consumption of Otohan's dagger Screaming Needle.

Laudna never manifested Hunger of the Shadow until after Delilah used Laudna to consume the Gnarlrock Shard. Laudna actually theorized that she gained the ability due to the Gnarlrock shard (Episode 73, around 41 minutes in). And this seems confirmed because in the Critical Role Cooldown, Matt sent Marisha the specs on the new Feat, and it was a result of eating a new magic item. (Ironically enough, the new feat has synergy with the dagger, and from the sounds of it, Laudna would have gotten the same new Feat if she'd consumed the blade Ishta instead.)

Void Puppet. Laudna gains advantage on Intimidation charisma checks. Three times per long rest, as a bonus action, she can conjure the screaming spirit within 30 feet of her. Duration: 1 minute. The spirit can be moved 30 feet on Laudna's turn. If she targets a creature with a spell and the screaming spirit is within five feet of the target, the target gains Disadvantage on the saving throw. The spirit vanishes whether the save fails or is successful.

If Laudna had used the Quintessence Harness, she probably would have gained 5 permanent hit points and had Advantage on all attack rolls, saving throws, and ability checks for the next 24 hours. That said, if Screaming Needle were a Legendary Item (as Ishta likely is), then it would have given her a +2 to a stat, and increased her stat maximum by 2. (Yes, if Orym uses the Quintessence Harness on Ishta, in all likelihood his Dex would become a 22. He might gain an additional ability depending on the power of the item - Ishta seems to be a potent item so it might have granted him something extra.)

As an addendum I thought of after posting this... Laudna hasn't gained anything through use of Hunger of the Shadow Shard. While it hints at the ability feeding Delilah, it doesn't benefit Laudna. She didn't gain anything from consuming the Willmaster (though they were kind of drained dry of their psychic abilities anyway prior to that moment). So... my own theory that Hunger of the Shadow Shard is how she consumes items and people... well, that's not quite how it seems to work. And I'm delighted by that because what we saw was more horrifying! ^^

[labsportstherapy]

Dry Needling in Sports Physical Therapy

We offer dry needling in case of physical injury and the rehabilitation process of sports physical therapy of a sportsperson or an athlete recovering from a physical injury in St. Paul.

[esoteric-chaos]

What are Infused Oils?

What are they?

Infused oils are herbal components or spices placed in a jar of carrier oil like Olive Oil, Grapeseed Oil, Avacado Oil, Jojoba Oil, Coconut Oil, etc. Can be used in cooking, herbal ailments and skincare.

Are they essential oils?

No. Short answer, no. Long answer? I'll give you an explanation. Essential oils are distilled using Steam Distillation, Solvent Extraction, CO2 Extraction, Maceration, Enfleurage, Cold Press Extraction, and or Water Distillation. Lotta words huh? It takes a lot of work to make essential oils. Unfortunately, it also takes quite a bit of that plant to make even those tiny 10ml bottles you purchase. Of course, each plant varies. However, it still can lead to a larger environmental impact.

For instance, one pound of essential oil can be extracted from approximately 250 pounds of rosemary leaves, or from 150 pounds of lavender buds, or say 50 pounds of eucalyptus leaves. This is why you see some as more expensive than others. Unfortunately, you can see where the problem lies in plants that are more threatened or endangered. If you must use essential oils, source responsibly (and not from a Pyramid scheme but I'm not opening that can of worms)

Can I use infused oils in my practice?

Yes! Absolutely! All these oil recipes you see for spell oils are exactly that. You can even use the elemental correspondences of the carrier oils you use for spell oils. As an example Olive Oil is traditionally known for the fire element and Coconut Oil is water. The possibilities for your personal correspondence are endless!

Now I'll stop rambling. Here are a few methods I learned to infuse oils in my courses and through self-herbalist study.

Method One:

The Folk Method - The most common

Directions

Place DRIED herbs in a clean, dry jar. Leave at least 1 to 3 inches of open space above your herbs to cover with oil.

Fill the remaining space in the jar with the oil of your choice, making sure to cover herbs by at least 1 inch or more. If the herbs emerge above the surface of the oil at any point while infusing, pour more oil on top to ensure the herbs remain covered.

Cap the jar tightly and shake well.

Place the jar in a sunny, warm windowsill and shake once or more per day.

After 2 to 3 weeks, strain the herbs out of the oil using cheesecloth or a mesh strainer. Or you can leave it in but straining is recommended if you are using dropper bottles as it clogs the caps.

Pour into clean glass bottles.

Remember to label your jars with the date, type of oil, and herbs used! You WILL forget! Trust me.

Store in a cool, dark place. The oil may keep for up to a year.

Method Two:

The Heat Infused Method - Quick Infusion

Directions

Place herbs in the crock pot or double boiler. Cover with extra virgin olive oil (or other carrier oil of choice), leaving at least an inch or two of oil above the herbs. 

Gently heat the herbs over very low heat (preferably between 100° and 140° F for 1 to 5 hours, until the oil takes on the colour and scent of the herb. Some recommend heating the oil for 48 to 72 hours at a controlled temperature of 100° F. Turn off the heat and allow it to cool. I personally prefer letting it sit in a crock pot for 72 hours as I feel like I get all of the benefits out of the herb.

Once oil is cooled, strain using cheesecloth.

Bottle in dry, sterilized glass bottles. LABEL your bottles with the date and contents before storing them.

Store in a cool, dark, dry place for up to six months.

Best herbs to infuse in oil

There are a countless number of herbs, spices and resins that can be infused into the oil. Please make sure these herbs are free from pesticides and chemicals (not found on the roadside). Dried herbs work best as you don't want your mixture spoiling sooner. Here are some great examples of herbs to use.

Pine needles

Calendula flowers

Chamomile flowers

Lavender

Lemon balm

Peppermint leaf

Rosemary leaf

Thyme leaf

There you have it! Now have fun and source responsibility.

Happy witching!

Want to read more?

On sustainability and impact:

Links:

Dangers of essential oils and pets:

Link:

Want to check out my other post? Look at my Masterpost

[wonderlandleighleigh]

One of the cool things about cooking and baking is that you don't have to do anything complicated to feel accomplished.

I made this yesterday, because I needed to feel like I did something other than replace the needle on my record player:

This is beer bread. It is 3 ingredients, and no-kneed.

3 cups self-rising flour

1/3 cup sugar

1 bottle or can of beer (any beer. I used to make this in college with budweiser my roommates forgot to drink. But the nicer the beer, the better the flavor. The above was made with an oatmeal stout and came out a caramel color. More watery cheaper beers produce paler outcomes)

Mix. Throw it into a greased bread pan, and bake at 350f for 45 minutes to an hour. Test with a butter knife. If it comes out dry, it's done.

If you greased abundantly the bread should slide right out. I have good luck with glass bread pans. Let it cool on a rack. Enjoy with butter or other spread of choice.

Not only did you do a thing, but you and whomever you share with benefit.

[pisupsala]

One for The History Books [Chapter 17] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 4k

[Index] All Chapters | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Epilogue

[Library]

Chapter 17 - Sinking

You’ve been on pins and needles all day: tapping your foot under your desk, shuffling in your seat, fidgeting with papers. Bradley is coming back today. Your boss shoots you an annoyed look from across the conference room.

Tucking your hands under your legs like you’re back in primary school, you will yourself to sit still and listen to the presentation. If only it wasn’t so boring. Your mind wanders of its own accord to places more interesting.

Emboldened by Bradley’s reaction to the lingerie set you bought last time, you picked up another set to welcome him back—this time in black. You even splurged on matching garter belt and stockings.

Ok, is it insane to wear a skirt and stockings in January in D.C when you’re taking public transport?

Very much so. But you are also very much convinced it’s going to be worth it.

You idly wonder if Bradley will change into regular clothes before he comes to pick you up, or if you get to see him in uniform again. God, you hope it’s the latter.

Sometimes you think back to that first time you saw him again, when he pretty much materialized in your office in that khaki uniform. God, you were so angry then, but now that you have distance from the situation, it’s Bradley in that uniform that still sticks out.

A little bit too much on some nights.

You rub your thighs together unconsciously.

“Miss Williams, what is your perspective?”

Eh?

Oh.

Uhm.

The presentation.

Right.

“I think…,” You pause for a second, licking your suddenly dry lips. “…I think it’s pretty solid, but it would benefit from more specific cases studies. It’s a little abstract in its current form.”

Goddammit Bradley. He’s causing you trouble when he hasn’t even made landfall yet. You seriously glance at your watch. Another hour at least until his ship comes in.

You see your boss nodding as he takes notes. Good, so it was the right things to say. Birch better not be onto you—the last thing you need at this point is another talking to about professional conduct.

Riks has been out of your hair mercifully, at least after you threatened to file an official complaint for his digging around into your personal life, through Seresin no less.

That meeting was… something else. You are usually not one to get nervous giggles, being well practiced at keeping a straight face. But Birch, strained, in a deadly serious tone told Riks:

“Whatever lieutenant Bradshaw and Miss Williams get up to in their free time is their business, and I would be incredibly grateful if it stays that way.”

He paused, face pained, before continuing: “It’s neither the purpose nor goal of this department to uncover every roll in the hay service men or women have.”

“We’d need to double the Pentagon budget for just that.” Birch concludes under his breath.

He probably didn’t mean for you to hear him. But you were so embarrassed you could barely contain your laughter, tears filling your eyes. It wasn’t a funny situation in the least.

Just so so awkward.

You check your watch again. It’s barely lunchtime. The discussion in the room is still ongoing. No, but for real, how much is there to discuss about ammo logistics in during the Civil War? You half expect you’d be bored to tears even if you weren’t passionately hoping time would hurry the fuck up already.

Ah, finally. As you gather your things from the table, one of the presenters comes up to you.

“Miss Williams—would you mind sharing your notes from the presentation? I’m sure it will be incredibly useful.”

“Ah, yeah -” You would mind, actually. You would mind on the account that you didn’t actually take any notes and that the page in your notebook you had in front of you is full of mindless squiggles and doodles.

“I’ve given you all my feedback verbally just now, my notes don’t really add more to that.” You smile apologetically.

Before the presenter opens his mouth again, you interject: “Also, I have terrible handwriting, sorry!”

Clutching your notebook to your chest, you leg it out of the room. Jesus. You really know how to embarrass yourself well. Mercifully, you can hide in your office for the rest of the day to work on the reports for the Senate committee. That should tide you over to the end of the day.

Hah.

It’s not even 4:30 yet, and you’re pacing around your office like a caged tiger. You cannot even pretend to focus on your work anymore. If you have another coffee, you are pretty sure your heart is going to explode out of your chest.

God. You should have driven down to Virginia Beach despite Bradley’s protests. At least you’d be doing something more useful with your time than… pacing and daydreaming.

Your bag is already packed, your winter coat hanging from your desk chair. Bradley texted you when he disembarked and let you know he was on his was. You know he’ll text you once he’s parked, but, ugh, everything is taking too long today.

When your phone buzzes, you have your coat already half-way on before you see it’s just an email. You sink back into your chair, the momentum sending your chair spinning. Letting it turn you around, you idly wonder how many turns would equal one minute.

Oh Christ, enough already. You are acting like a teenager. Not even when you had your first crush at 14 were this hopeless, and if you were, that memory has fortunately been lost to time. To you. Probably not your sister, though.

Shrugging your coat back off, you grab one of the folders on the pile at the corner of your desk. Tapping your pen against the paper with more force than strictly necessary, you will yourself to start reading.

You are a goddamn adult, and you get paid to do this shit.

The last vestiges of your self-discipline burn out in the 45 minutes before your phone buzzes again. The moment you spot Bradley’s name on the display, with the simple message you’ve been waiting for all day—just “here”—you practically fly out of your office, coat unbuttoned, scarf loosely hanging from your neck and bag still open, slamming the door loudly behind you in your hurry. At the elevator, you push the button in rapid succession, trying to speed up the machine.

Calm.

You can’t run through the fucking Pentagon like a crazed woman.

Be professional.

Vaulting yourself into the empty elevator, you feel like there’s electricity coursing through your veins. It’s a nervous energy that been building in you all week—every breath a little bit closer to this moment.

It’s misty outside today—the fog you saw that morning still hasn’t cleared up as you look over the throng of people leaving the Pentagon at the end of the day. You join the too slow for your liking moving mass, trying to peer over the heads to see the exit to no avail.

You can’t very well push through.

The glass door finally come into view. Between people dispersing towards the parking bays and public transport, you see one figure cut through the mist, walking towards the Pentagon.

Your heart knows it’s Bradley before your head catches up, launching you forward, your feet moving by their own accord as you burst through the exit. The heels of your shoes echo against the stone pavement as loudly as your heart is beating in your ears, while your still unbuttoned coat flies behind you.

Bradley, in his dress blues, navy wool overcoat and white cap on his head, is walking down the pathway head held high, gait purposeful, every bit a Naval officer.

Your breath catches in your throat.

He’s so close.

The moment your eyes lock, he comes to a standstill, reaching out to you. Your momentum propels you forward straight into his waiting arms, where he catches your body easily and lifts you straight off the ground in a twirl, your bag forgotten at your feet. Your arms lock around his neck as you let out a surprised yelp, which he easily cuts off with a heated kiss.

Bradley’s lips taste of the wonderful winter cold as you melt into him.

“God, I’ve missed everything about you.” You mumble against his lips. His warm skin through the biting cold, the smell of his cologne, the brush of his neat mustache against your face. Catching Bradley’s mouth in another searing kiss, telling him more than words ever could, his grip on you tightens.

Breathless, Bradley sets you back down on your feet. You drink in every part of him as your fingers skim through the short hair on the back of his head. His cap is askew on his head, as he breathes heavily, his eyes searching over you, like he can’t believe you are really here.

Slowly, you press another kiss on his lips, as if to assure him and yourself that this is actually real.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He breathes so softly, you feel it more against your skin than that you hear it.

You giggle as you run your hands down the front of his coat, the dark wool soft under your fingers. He grabs your hand and presses a quick kiss against your fingertips.

“Let me take you home, darlin’,” Bradley’s murmurs in your ear, his voice has a delicious raw edge to it. “I’ve had to miss you for far too long.”

Nodding eagerly, you pull away long enough to retrieve your bag from the ground. A shiver overtakes you as you suddenly notice how cold it is now you’re not pressed up against Bradley anymore. As sharp as ever, he is already a step ahead of you and buttons up your coat with nimble fingers, wrapping your scarf around your neck.

It’s only now, that you actually manage to get your bearings again a little bit, you hear the oohs and aaws from passerby’s. Normally you would want the ground to swallow you whole for making such a spectacle, but today? You cannot find it in yourself to care, too wrapped in Bradley.

“Son, you better fix that cover.” A gruff voice comes from your right. No, okay, maybe you do care a little bit about your boss witnessing this. Birch is determinedly starting in front of him as he passes you.

“You have an admiral incoming on my six.” He adds, not sparing you another look.

“Yes sir, right away, sir.” Bradley choruses with practiced ease, as he moves his cap back into a respectable position on his head. You chuckle an apology, but Bradley just shoots you that winning smile of his.

“Let’s go sweetheart.” He says simply, as he presses a kiss against your forehead and takes your hand.

His large hand is warm against your already cold fingers as you start making your way to the visitor’s parking bay. You wrap your free hand around Bradley’s arm, leaning against him as you walk.

As you arrive at his car, you automatically turn to the passenger’s seat. With a mischievous grin pulls Bradley, you back to face him, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You run your fingers over the lapels of his coat as you sigh at the sensation of his hot breath caressing the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“I’m kind of tired from the trip, darlin’,” He murmurs, sending shivers down your spine. With a soft jingle, Bradley pulls out his car keys from his pocket and presses them into your hand. “Why don’t you drive us?”

“Really?” You ask, strangely breathless. Bradley just hums in response as your fingers wrap around the keys.

“I’ll even let you play Taylor Swift.” He adds, and you can just hear the mirth in his voice.

“That—that -,” You splutter. “Was my sister’s music.” “Of course.” Bradley chuckles. “That’s why you know all the words so well.”

“I’ll make you regret that offer.”

“Try me, sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bradley’s brain has been in a state of short-circuit since you flew into his arms. No scenario he had imagined tasted quite as sweet as that first kiss when he saw you again. Climbing into the driver’s seat of his car and adjusting it made your skirt ride up, and Bradley caught sight of what he was pretty sure was the top of a stocking.

Fuck.

He strongly considered pulling you out of the driver’s seat into his lap and fuck you right there in the parking lot.

The drive home was torture, and Bradley couldn’t keep his hands off you for more than 10 seconds— tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, grabbing your hand as you reached for the gear shift, running his hand up your leg—bad idea.

Shit, he could feel the line of your garter belt through the fabric of your skirt, teasing against the palm of his hand as your leg moved, manipulating the gas pedal.

The small smirk gracing your lips betrayed that you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

It’s on your couch, with you straddling him, your fingers threaded deliciously painfully in his hair as you roll your hips at a tortuously slow pace, Bradley is pretty sure his brain is just completely giving out.

He runs his hands blindly over your body, squeezing your flesh and looking into your eyes. Your hair loose, face flushed, pupils blown by desire, you look back down on him as you ride him in that agonizing pace you’ve set.

From almost falling through the front door, pulling at each other’s clothes in a heated frenzy, and tripping over your shoes, the raging fire in you both was unstoppable. The lingerie set you had specially bought ended up somewhere in the maelstrom of clothes left in your path from the door. It doesn’t even matter.

You pushed him onto your couch as he was sliding your panties down your hips, eyes raking over your form. You drank him in. There was no need for words as you sank down on him, gasping in delight as you stretched around his length. Bradley threw his head back, eyes scrunched close, cursing under his breath.

It was like the raging fire spread into smoldering embers from the moment you connected.

Now you want to savor every moment and every touch. You need it. The intimacy you have been craving, the touch you have been missing, you want to drown yourself in him.

Bradley’s fingers skim down from your throat, over your collarbone, just ghosting over your nipple—tearing a moan from you—down your stomach, pressing his thumb against your clit, drawing slow circles.

Your hips stutter, desperately trying to increase the friction.

“Bradley - please-,” You plead incoherently between gasps and moans. His mouth is on your nipple, teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh. It’s sending your senses into overdrive, spurring your movements on, muscles tensing.

“Fuck darlin’, you’re so tight.” Bradley grinds out. He can feel your walls tightening around his cock—you are close. Just a bit more. Your movements are turning erratic. Bradley grabs your hip with his free hand, bucking against you.

“Don - don’t stop - please, Bradley…”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over you moaning his name like that, with those eyes full of lust, riding him within an inch of his life. Selfishly, he doesn’t want you to look like that for anyone else ever again. He wants your eyes only on him.

Your lids start fluttering as your movements start stuttering more and more—Bradley can feel how close you are. He tightens his grip on you, setting a relentless pace, his thumb increasing the pressure on your clit.

“Cum for me darlin’,” He gasps. “Show me what I’ve missed.”

His words alone would be enough to have you come undone. His voice, so warm, so close after those cold months, feels like sliding into a hot bath, relaxing every nerve in your wound body. It pushes you to release, head lolling back in pure ecstasy, his name caught in your throat.

Bradley catches your body as it tips back, pulling you against his chest.

“Fuck.” You bring out weakly, breathing heavily. But Bradley doesn’t give you very long to restart your brain, effortlessly flipping you on your back and hitching your leg over his shoulder. Dazed, you squeal in delight, giggling as he presses kiss after kiss against your calf.

“How much did you miss me, darlin’?” He asks between kisses.

“So - so much.” You breathe.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart.” He says with a devilish smirk on his face as he drags the tip of his cock along your slick pussy lips, teasing against your sensitive clit. You moan without abandon.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” You choke out. “Everything about you.”

“Tell me.” Bradley demands as his lips latch onto a ticklish spot in the hollow of your knee.

Words start falling from your mouth—you’re not even sure you’re making sense—it’s almost a stream of consciousness.

“I - I’ve missed you from the minute you left,” Your breath hitches as Bradley gently bites down on your thigh. “It feels empty without you here. The bed is cold. I want you to kiss me awake…”

“Just kiss?” Bradley asks, as he nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance. You suck in a breath before a giggle bursts from your lips.

“Do you really need a full report when you have me in this state already?”

“I happen to know you are very thorough, Miss Williams.” Bradley smirks.

“I’ll write you a list later if you so desire, lieutenant.” You shoot back, still half-dazed, grasping for him. “But you’re stalling—how much did you really miss m-”

Bradley laughs and finally fully slides into you in one fluid move, effectively cutting you off. Setting a punishing pace that makes you see stars, Bradley easily wipes every last thought from your brain. Suddenly slowing down and bending over to you, filling you to the hilt, he whispers:

“For the record, I missed you so much it hurt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are moments when you actually stop and think, usually at a quiet moment at work. It’s actually insane how quickly you fall into a comfortable routine with Bradley, the relationship growing steadily. He has two weeks before he needs to report back on base, and in the meantime, he seems to revel in essentially playing house with you.

As you get ready for work in the morning, Bradley makes you coffee. When you tell him he should make most of his free time and sleep in more often, he just shrugs:

“Making most of my time is spending it with you.”

Some days he drives you to work and picks you up at the end of the day.

Without fail, your heart feels like it’s about to burst when you see his Bronco parked in the visitor’s bay.

Well, some aspects of your relationship are growing.

Bradley is still incredibly guarded when it comes to his family. When you ask about his trip to Nevada to see captain Mitchell, he talks about tinkering on Mitchell’s plane in the workshop, but never anything deeper about what they talked about.

Maybe it’s incredibly private—all Bradley has mentioned is that he’s known Mitchell since childhood. How or why? When you actually gather the courage to ask, Bradley just ignores the question and changes the subject.

You conceal how much that hurts you—because it shouldn’t. It’s none of your business. Selfishly, you want to know Bradley better than anyone in the world.

But you need to really accept that it’s his choice how much he really wants to share about himself. No matter how unfair it feels.

You start talking about your own family less, feeling like you’re oversharing. Again, Bradley probably is just not that family-oriented and might just be humoring you. There is no sense in dwelling on these things, you admonish yourself.

Realistically, how long have you been dating? You haven’t even broken the 6-month mark yet, and he was deployed for three of those. And there will be more deployments, more time spend apart. You need to stop your brain from spinning and take things as they come.

It’s another one of those winter days when the sun doesn’t even get up from bed, and from dawn till dusk there are just monochrome gray skies, like it’s perpetual twilight. The air is bitingly cold, stinging every bit of skin not covered. You practically skip to the parked Bronco, seeing Bradley’s silhouette through the driver’s side window.

Climbing into the passenger’s seat, he greets you with an immediate kiss.

“You spoil me.” You smile at him. “What am I going to do with myself once you’re back in Virginia Beach?”

“You’ll drive yourself, which you are perfectly capable off.” Bradley grins back. “But in the meantime, let me take care of you.”

“Can we stop by the store?” You ask as you buckle up and Bradley turns the engine on. “I think we’re running low on a few things.”

It’s not terribly busy on the road, and it’s a short trip to the store. Preoccupied with finding the right playlist on your phone with your cold fingers, you only spot the car in front of you suddenly swerve wildly in your periphery.

You snap your head up, but the words on your tongue die the second the back of the Bronco suddenly slips violently to the right. Black ice. Your head cracks against the door. A million curses fly through your scrambled brain, but there are more important things.

“Keep steady! Don’t counter-steer!” Your voice is high with panic. You’ve slipped on black ice before, just never in D.C and never when you weren’t the one driving.

Bradley is loudly cursing, trying to get the car under control. You are so full of adrenaline, time seems to have slowed down.

You see Bradley in hyper focus, knuckles white against the steering wheel as he shifts down, slowing the vehicle down. In reality, the slip takes only seconds and as the Bronco regains grip on the tarmac.

Your head is pounding from knocking against the window and sheer stress.

“Darlin’, are you ok?” Bradley looks at you from the corner of his eye—his voice is steady, like he’s completely unshaken. On the other hand, you look terrified—eyes wide, white as a sheet and breath coming out in short, panicked bursts. He pulls into a side street and parks.

Heart clenching, he reaches out to you. “Sweetheart, are you hurt?”

Mutely, you shake your head, biting your lip, trying to steady your breathing. Bradley simply reaches out to you, hand caressing your cheek.

“Are you sure?”

“Ye- yeah.” You force out, leaning your head into his palm, kissing it. “I… I don’t even know what came over me.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you continue words falling out of your mouth like a waterfall.

“It’s not the first time I’ve slipped on black ice in a vehicle, it just never happened to me as a passenger, but you’re a goddamn fighter pilot, of course your reflexes are amazing, and you keep your cool… like, what am I even worried about?”

You try to smile, but the corner of your mouth just shakes.

Bradley leans in and lightly kisses you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I trust you.” You reply, voice still lightly shaking. “And sorry for backseat driving.” You add in attempt to joke.

Bradley just chuckles in response, but he is sure of one thing. He doesn’t want to ever want to see that terrified look on your face again. It has already burned itself in his brain along with your panicked voice.

That night when you are in bed, you already in deep sleep, Bradley wraps himself around your naked form, pressing light kisses against the column of your neck. Every time he closes his eyes, your face flashed before his mind’s eye. Smiling, blushing, frowning as you think, sleepy in the morning —but it always ends up morphing into wide-eyed terror.

He spent the evening trying to scrub the look from his mind, filling his vision with your blushing, love struck face, mouth open as he had you cum for him over and over again.

Bradley sighs dejectedly.

Another one for the collection.

[note]I have this problem that I think of all the plot beats I want to put in one chapter and then I always end up overwriting so much that I pretty much always have add another chapter to the plan. Again, this was supposed to be five chapters lmao.

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[redd956]

Do you have any ideas on how to come up with fictional vegetables, resource plants, or livestock? I keep coming up with fruit since I can’t really think of any ways of making a vegetable interesting or unique to a setting. The only resource plants I can think of is one that gives cotton and livestock has me stumped.

(Context: My world is full of rabbit-human hybrids that are omnivorous but mainly eat plant food, meat is usually eaten during special events. I want to focus on a world reliant on different crops for food and resources. There’s different biomes like a wooded area, an almost volcanic area, a snowy area, and a naturally occurring magic area.)

Yes, I do!!!

A lot of fruits and vegetables themselves are very similar in growth and function, the main difference being fruits come from fruiting bodies while vegetables are just part of the plant. That's when we get that weird middle group like corn, tomatoes, and eggplants.

But there's a lot of aspects to vegetables that make them unique, with lots of worldbuilding room

Everything is Edible

Creative juices flowing questions... (I'm also grouping grains and vegetables together btw)

What parts of the plants are primarily consumed? The stalks, leaves, roots, bulbs, flowers, tubers? (carrots are roots? Guess I learn something new everyday)

How is the edible part extracted from the plant? What does the plant look like in a crop field? How do people know when it's ready?

Does the vegetable need to go through a preparation process before being eaten? (Crushed, cleaning, cut open)

Does the plant have edible leaves, bean pods, kernels, nuts, oats? Does it have multiple uses? Does it produce more than one edible factor?

Is it harvest from the ground, water pools, trees? How tall is the plant?

How does it spread/reproduce? (flowers, potato eyes, seeds)

Usage & Flavor

Is the vegetable eating directly, usually added to something else, used as a spice? What does it taste like? (earthy, bitter, tangy, sour)

Is it used to make something else that's edible/used in cooking? (Oils, beers, yeasts, flavorings)

Are there non food related uses? (Medicinal, potion brewing, material)

Gourds (fruits but equally fun)

My family fries/grills the blossoms on pumpkins & zucchinis, and I couldn't stop thinking about that so here's some bonus rounds

How do people break into the hard casings to reach the edible parts? Is anything does with the hard casings? What funky shapes are the gourds?

What's inside? What does it look like? Tastes? Seeds? Other uses?

Does it have any decorative uses? Any holiday relation?

Tea & Coffee

What kind of drinks can be made from plants? What extra benefits and effects does it have? Any magical properties? Any recreational properties?

How is the plant extracted? How is it prepared into a drink?

Anything culturally significant?

What does the brew look like? How strong is the smell?

Environmental Factors

What vegetables survive in dry or unforgiving environments? How important are these two the people who live there? What were to happen if harvest failed?

Any diseases or bugs that affect produce? How do farmers protect their crops these? Any animals or technology help in the harvesting process?

How does temperature and rain effect the produce? Anything grow underneath the snow? Soil? Water? Underground? (Huge fan of snowy plants in worldbuilding)

How does the vegetable itself try to protect itself? (cactus needles, thorns, caffeine, poison)