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#Ronnie Hudson
krispyweiss · 10 months
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An “Intellectualized Rock ‘n’ Roll Artist:” Robbie Robertson Dead at 80
Robbie Robertson is dead.
The Band co-founder, guitarist and primary songwriter died Aug. 9, his management said in a statement.
“Robbie was surrounded by his family at the time of his death,” the statement said.
Robertson was 80; no cause was given.
“May Robbie Robertson rest in peace and love,” Todd Rundgren’s Spirit of Harmony Foundation said.
His death leaves Garth Hudson, 85, as the sole surviving Band member.
Robertson was an “intellectualized rock ‘n’ roll artist,” Michael Des Barres said.
“Robbie Robertson is so important in the history of rock ‘n’ roll music, bringing Americana and country music together … he will be remembered,” Des Barres said.
Given Robertson wrote “The Night They Drive Old Dixie Down,” “The Weight,” “The Shape I’m In,” “Stage Fright,” “Up on Cripple Creek” and scads of others, that is an understatement.
“Robbie Robertson’s words wove the fabric of the songs we all wear,” Joe Newberry said. “Rest in peace.”
“The loss of Robbie Robertson is heartbreaking,” Kiefer Sutherland said. “Canada has lost an icon, and music has lost a poet and a scholar.”
Robertson started - as his Band mates Hudson, Levon Helm, Rick Danko and Richard Manuel did - with Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks. They then became Bob Dylan’s band; then simply the Band.
“One of the all-time greats,” Tinsley Ellis said of Robertson.
When the Band split, Robertson’s output slowed considerably and he made just six LPs released between 1987 and 2019. But that didn’t faze Al Di Meola’s fandom.
“I absolutely adored Robbie Robertson,” the guitarist said. “His (self-titled) solo debut … is to this day my all time favorite pop album. … Robbie, rest in peace.”
8/9/23
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randomestfandoms-ocs · 4 months
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Happy Galentine's Day!! (1/2)
Abbie Hudson & Liv Pillsbury ( @cecexwrites ) || Aurora Anderson & Sydney Blanchard ( @megdonnellys Ava Potts & Roni Stark ( @thecaptainsgingersnap ) || Demi July & Maite Contreras-Herrera Kyla Keller & Natalia Finch ( @manyfandomocs ) || Ronnie & Isobel Lockwood ( @ocmerunaway ) Thalia Lovelace & Romy Thornhill & Jack Herondale ( @cecexwrites & @ginevrastilinski-ocs )
Tag List: @airwolf92 – want to be added?
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badmovieihave · 4 months
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Bad movie I have The Retirement Plan 2023
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forensicated · 8 days
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02x07 - Ringer
Ted sits with his girlfriend, Linda (played by Marian McLoughlin, a frequent guest star over the years, appearing in 10 episodes though this is her only appearance as Linda) in a traffic jam, nodding at the officers who pass on the way to a job just around the corner. He notices that the Chief Superintendent is in attendance so it must be something serious. Ted claims they might need him so he goes to see what's happening. Robin is back for his first appearance after being shot in Hostage.
A speeding car had its brakes fail, causing him to swerve to avoid a motorbike and hit a bus that went over onto its side. A motorbike tried to avoid hitting the bus and went under a lorry which screeched to a halt and had a car drive into it. There are lots of walking wounded, some serious casualties that need cutting out and at least 6 have passed away.
Taffy and others are in the bus helping tend to those trapped whilst also getting the walking wounded out of the vehicle. Yorkie updates Brownlow that the bus was carrying a group of elderly day trippers from South End. Bob suggests using a nearby school as a morgue until everyone is free and they've found a morgue to take the bodies.
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A photographer is already taking pictures before being shooed away by officers. June is in the car that crashed into the lorry, supporting the passengers head and neck. A doctor suspects she has spinal injuries so she needs to stay as still as possible. The man she was with has died and is being kept out of her line of sight with June telling her that he's ok until she's freed and has gone to the hospital.
Taffy returns to the station to man the incident room with Tom, Mike and Reg (who is moaning that he's supposed to be on light duties because of his back and he worries that he's about to lose his compensation(!)
Linda drives Ted's car to a nearby safe space when the vehicles can move again and tells him she's going in to work by tube and warns him not to come home smelling of booze. Ted smiles roguishly. "You better have them off by the time I get home!" Abe is amazed that the old people on the coach are as calm as anything and aren't fussing. Ted reminds them they lived through The Blitz.
The school receptionist disapproves of the school being used as a temporary morgue, even though it's half term, but the headmaster has given permission so she has to open up to allow them. She tells Brownlow that it "better not be sending presidence!" He assures her they need to clear the scene as quickly as possible and that they'll be moving them to proper mortuaries as soon as they get space.
A Sergeant from the traffic division comes over to Bob and tells him that the driver who reported his brakes having failed was telling the truth but it is worse than that - he suspects the car is a a ringer and shows Bob where it has been joined.
June and the fire officers support the lady trapped in a car and gently carry her out of the wreckage with Bob, Jim and Yorkie helping keep her as still as possible. Yorkie is sent to the hospital to collect statements and - when she's at the hospital - tell the trapped lady that her husband has passed. Jim is sent to check the car for any personal belongings left by the couple and then to get it towed away.
Pete watches from the car as Viv comforts a mother whos son has passed in the RTA. Pete tells her that she should have just told her - bosh - and then left. He does promise to do the next one... I don't know if that's a good idea (!)
Roy is fuming about Ted being late, claiming being delayed by the accident isn't a good enough reason and that he'll move him to the 'Dream Factory' (Scotland Yard) if he does it again as it's the second time that week.
Pete goes to tell a woman that her mother has been killed in the accident. Viv reminds him to be diplomatic. Pete stops to remove his chewing gum before going inside... I suppose it's something! He enters a hairdressers and asks to speak to the woman in private. Pete can't tell her at first that her mother has died and tells her she's at the hospital... he then quietly tells her that he's sorry but she's dead.
Traffic looks at the car and confirms that it's a cut-and-shut and made up of three cars put together - poorly. The owner bought it from the local paper a couple of weeks previously. Roy tasks Ted with speaking to the man to see if he remembers where he got it from. He paid for it via cheque to a man called Mr Regan who delivered it to the house for him to look over. There's an address on the paperwork.
Yorkie sits at the bedside of the lady from the wreck that had to be cut free and he tries to comfort her and offers to contact family or friends for her. She then admits that the dead man is not her husband, he's her lover and there's a Mrs Simpson still to tell! Yorkie updates Bob who passes him to Robin for him to check up on the details for the real Mrs Simpson.
All the bodies at the school have been identified and removed from the school. Ted attends the address from the paperwork of the car to find it's a nightclub. The owner is standoffish and rude before Ted produces his warrant card which causes him to snap into being helpful. He tells him that Regan had a short let office upstairs and left two weeks ago. He imported and exported sports cars and the owner of the club bought one himself. Ted has to tell him that his car is a ringer after checking it over.
Uniform gather in the incident room to pool what they know. Tom Penny pounces in and catches some smoking and some about to light their cigarettes, fining them all 50p for smoking on a No Smoking Day. Jim later defaces a poster to warn the others and places it beside the No Smoking Day one.
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Every witness and/or victim that Bob has spoken to claims that the driver of the Porsche whose brakes failed is the reason for the accident because he was driving so fast that it kicked off the chain of the events that followed. Bob tells him he's likely to be charged with reckless, careless or dangerous driving.
Mr Simpson's real wife isn't home and is likely to be in Margate or Milton Keynes according to family. A man has been charged with stealing the old ladies' handbags in the hospital (!) He's a known thief who the officers call 'Poison Dwarf'.
Regan has been found to owe money in lots of places and did not leave a forwarding address. He also owes the bank £10K too which gives the police more powers to track him down. Roy rings a former DS in the Robbery Squad who now works for the bank and asks him to do a naughty to track down Regan's account to see if there's an up to date address.
If you need more nightmare fodder, Reg is front and center watching a stripper in the pub much to the amusement of the others who stay at the bar or a nearby table instead. "Just look at Hollis' face... what a plonker he is." Viv and June sigh, leaving the pub after seeing enough bodies for one day. This is the Pig And Whistle pub used in the episode.
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Dave - the former DS turned bank employee tells Roy that Regan had 150K go through his bank before he skipped out, leaving a 10K overdraft behind. He asks what the police's interest is and Roy tells him it's ringers. Dave suggests it's likely that he's using multiple names then because he'd burn through the ability to stay in one place quickly given the issues. He gives Roy a name and address, telling him it's the details from the only cheque Regan wrote on the account. The cheque went through someone else's account but he added his details on the back.
Ted goes to the address and talks to a man about Regan. He told him he wanted a couple of study wooden crates to send second-hand motor parts abroad so the man made them for £200. The name on the van that collected the crates was Galley Sidwick which is a Car Breakers yard. The owner made sure he took note in case the cheque bounced. Ted reports it back to Roy.
Sun Hill prepares to raid the car breaker yard the next morning. As they wait, Ted tells Roy about his night with Linda how he romanced her with a bottle of wine, a meal and a bit of Julio Iglesias and how it made her want him to make love to her over the table. "Very embarrassing," he adds after. "Can't go back to that restaurant again."
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(If you look top left of the more recent Google Maps image you can see the Grenfell Tower ❤ .The site used for the car breakers could be Defreitas Motors on the left-hand side of the Google Maps pic as there was a sign shown in the episode that said it too)
Roy and Ted head into the porter cabin to find a group of men - and DS 'Tommy Burnside' playing poker. Roy calls him a bent bastard and finds that he's wearing a wire and that he is undercover. He tells Roy there's a big ringing operation working from the yard and 'Regan' is Mark Galley, a rally driver. He had been working on it for months to get them to trust him. Regan/Galley finances his rallying by creating and selling the ringers and is on-site boxing up the car Burnside was 'buying'. "You are a silly man!" Ted chastises him to this response from Burnside...🤣 Frank returns to the cabin afterwards to gather up all the money on the table, pocketing it.
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Sun Hill manages to get inside and dodge being threatened with a dog, blowtorch, and multiple weapons to arrest Galley/Regan and others in his group. It does however include a violent chase over walls and fences, through tunnels, through holes in the floor and over a pile of tyres. June Is knocked senseless and Pete lays into one before Abe calls him off. There's a rather spectacular car crash too after Nick throws a trolley through the windscreen of a car that Galley had tried to escape in! Ted also has to be dragged back off Regan/Galley.
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Burnside is in the incident room, trying to pull June. June isn't interested in the slightest, even when he offers her a "trip to paradise."(!!) Nick grasses Tom up for smoking in the toilets on his own non-smoking day!
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Mrs Simpson attends the station at the end of the shift, having returned from staying overnight with family. Reg takes her towards the parade room where there others are recuperating with cans of beer after such a vicious heavy afternoon.
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Although he keeps her outside the room she can hear all the laughter and joking inside. Bob has to switch to professional mode and take her through to the quiet office and tell her that her husband has passed away with the drunk men watching and laughing just the other side of the doorway, joking that she's Bob's bit on the side.
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cursemewithyourkiss · 1 month
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Second time someone thought my Random Harvest pin was from Grease 😭
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ask-the-3rr0rs · 3 months
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3llie has weird food combinations while Ronnie has weird food abominations
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automotiveamerican · 11 months
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Did Ute Know? The first car-based pickup was not a Chevy - Ronnie Schreiber @Hagerty
For a group that likes to call themselves car people, automotive enthusiasts have an odd affection for cars that look like trucks: The Chevrolet El Camino, the Ford Ranchero, and the Subaru Brat. Whatever you call these oddities—car-truck, truck-car, cowboy Cadillac, ute—it’s tempting to say that they trace their lineage back to Henry Ford and the 1917 Model TT truck. Though early Ford cars and…
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mr-3rr0r · 2 years
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Oc username headcanons because why not:
3llie: Sciencebish
Mia: Graffitiqueen
Marie: Black-n-Red
Zoe: One-eyed-Wonder
Luca: PinkiePal3
Jax: ActionJaxson
Jenny: Metalhead8
Madeline: Mini-Medusa
Ronnie: That-delightful-Demon
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2Pac featuring Dr. Dre and Roger Troutman - California Love 1995
"California Love" is a song by American rapper 2Pac featuring rapper-producer Dr. Dre and singer Roger Troutman of the funk group Zapp. The song was released as 2Pac's comeback single after his release from prison in 1995 and was his first single as the newest artist of Death Row Records. It reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 for two weeks (as a double A-side single with "How Do U Want It") and also topped the charts of Italy, New Zealand, and Sweden. The song was posthumously nominated for the Grammy Award for Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group in 1997.
The first version of the song has three verses featuring Dr. Dre's rapping. 2Pac first heard Dr. Dre's session while at Dre's in-house studio and asked Dre to put him on the song. Producer Laylaw also did an additional remix of the song which is often erroneously credited to Dr. Dre and has been suggested to be one of the reasons for the fallout between Dre and 2Pac a few months later. The remix was included on 2Pac's All Eyez on Me (1996), while this version was put on the UK version of All Eyez on Me.
The original version contains a sample taken from Joe Cocker's 1972 song "Woman to Woman". The remix version contains a sample taken from Kleeer's 1984 song "Intimate Connection". The chorus, "California knows how to party", was sung by Roger Troutman using his characteristic talk box and was taken from the 1982 song "West Coast Poplock" by Ronnie Hudson & The Street People which was written by Ronnie Hudson and Mikel Hooks. In the song where Troutman sings "shake it, shake it baby", he interpolates the chant he used on his 1982 Zapp single, "Dance Floor".
The more famous if its two different music videos was directed by Hype Williams, and the casting includes George Clinton, Chris Tucker, and Roger Troutman carrying a talk box. It was nominated for an MTV Video Music Award for Best Rap Video in 1996.
"California Love" received a total of 65,2% yes votes!
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cellythefloshie · 6 months
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;; Mama Bear Dedicated to myself. Because this has been my passion project.
Summary: With her son Parker set to skate in his first NHL game with the Boston Bruins, Katherine Stacy travels to Boston. When her plans are derailed by her ex-husband, Katherine is forced to spend a night on the town alone where she meets Jeremy who is more than willing to show her a good time. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (22 v. 40). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. One Night Stand. Oral Sex - Fem Receiving. Mirror Reflection. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: N/A. Boston Bruin's Rookie. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 12k+
A/N: Would you believe me if I said that this fic was 4 months in the making? @hagelpoint-3821 and @hockeyboysimagines -- I do not know how you have put up with me teasing this fic for so long. This fic is one that ignited a fire of excitement in me, and to be able to share that excitement with the two of you is something I will always appreciate. You both know that this fic could have easily become a full length novel - and I did have to cut back on this things to assure I could get this out before the new year. I won't have to but you guys with persistent updates about the progress anymore! Thank you so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. With that said, this fic is not going to appeal to everyone. It is unlike anything I have written before, and is unlike anything I have seen in this community before. So please consider liking and relogging if you enjoy, and if doesn't end up being your cup of tea - thank you for giving it a shot. And please note that I did not do a full edit of this fic. I will be editing any mistakes I see upon rereads. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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As a woman traveling alone, there was one thing Katherine Stacy made sure to do: she created a detailed itinerary. Everything from her flights to hotel check-in times and the sights she was planning to see in the great city of Boston were listed in detail on two neatly organized pages. And she made sure to print 3 copies. One for herself, that she carried in her black Kate Spade purse. One for her ex-husband, Ronnie, who was meant to join her on her trip. And the last, for her best friend, Dottie, who remained back home in Toronto - but was the one person she knew she could count on if something did not go according to plan. 
Which was why, as Katie called her from her dimly lit hotel room in the middle of the day - when she was supposed to be touring the Museum of Fine Arts - Dottie answered with such urgency you would have thought her home was on fire. Her mass of blonde curls was the first thing you could see when she answered the video call. They fell into her face that was too close to the screen, her words rushed so close together they slurred into one. “What’sgoingon?Whyisitsodark?Thisisnottheartmuseum.”
Katie propped her phone up against her suitcase, the camera obstructed by the bag’s handle as she rushed to get one of the lights, a string of apologies leaving her lips. When she returned to the end of her bed, she fixed the camera just right before her hands dipped into her bag and she continued to unpack her belongings and store them away in the hotel room’s dresser. It was only then, with her hands busy and a heavy breath rocking her shoulders, that Katie told Dottie why she was calling. 
“He brought her.”
That was all Dottie needed to hear for her eyes to be sent wide in disbelief, “He. Did. Not.” Dottie was always nothing short of eccentric and supportive, but that support only had grown stronger since Katie’s divorce. And since Ronnie started dating again. 
Not even a year into their separation before their divorce was finalized, he had started dating Monica. A beautiful, blonde, twenty-something, esthetician from Etoboike who had weaseled her way into the Waylon family before Katie could even realize what was happening. Which included joining Ronnie on their trip to Boston. Which was supposed to be just the two of them. One where they were coming together as parents to celebrate the success of their son, Parker Waylon-Stacy, who was set to play his first game in the NHL the next evening.  
Worst of all, he hadn’t told her she was coming. Monica had been a nasty surprise when she met him at The Westland for lunch. Katie knew the young woman could see the shock all over her face when she spotted her, and while her attendance was an unpleasant surprise, she had tried to be civil. Yet, Katie could only tolerate so much. 
So she canceled their dinner reservations at the Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar and did not make her planned trip to the art museum. Instead, she had taken a taxi back to the Courtyard by Marriott where she was staying for her short visit in Boston. What she was going to do now, she didn’t know, but Katie knew she needed to call Dottie.
“I knew you should have just come with me Dot-”
Dottie cut in, her words strained by her frustration. “I would have ripped his testicles off with my bare hands-”
“Dot!”
“What?” Dottie was taken back, her brows furrowed. 
“He’s allowed to be dating, we aren’t married.” She and Ronnie hadn’t been together since their son had turned sixteen. That was almost two years ago now, and Katie didn’t miss a single minute of being married to him. She never would. 
“But this trip was supposed to be a family trip,” Dottie reminded, her hand coming up to run over her face with a sigh, “for Parker.”
“Well,” Katie chewed at the inside of her cheek, her hand coming up to push her long red hair back out of her face, “he’s marrying her.”
All Katie could hear was a long, low growl of a no, the video call going dark as Dottie either dropped the phone face down onto a surface or accidentally turned her camera off at the shock of the news. When the sight of her returned, her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide. 
“You should have seen her ring,” Katie told her, her hands wringing the fabric of one of her blouses in her hands like a wet rag, “it was, wow.”
The band was gold, and the diamond was big. Bigger than what she had on her engagement ring and wedding band combined. It was so big it was almost gaudy and hard to miss. It was eye-catching with every single one of Monica’s movements, and all Katie could think of at the sight of it was: Does Parker know? 
It was a question that haunted her as she put down her blouse, pulled her pajamas from the bottom of her bag, and began to undress with little care that Dottie was still on the other end of the call. They had been friends since middle school. There was little Dottie hadn’t seen or didn’t know. 
“Whoa, whoa,” Dottie spoke, the shock fading at the sight of Katie stripping out of her jeans, “what are you doing?”
Katie stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she held her satin bottoms in her hand, “Turning in?”
“NO, you aren’t going to let that selfish prick ruin this trip for you,” Dottie spoke in a firm tone, her finger pointing right into the lens of her camera. 
“What am I supposed to do, Dottie?” Katie sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat and accidentally throwing her pajamas across the room, “I’m just going to order room service and watch some paper view-”
“No, no. You’re going to go out and enjoy yourself.”
A sigh rocked through Katie’s entire body, her hand falling into her hands as she fought back a frustrated sob. She’s a divorced mother in a city she doesn’t know. Her son was off with his teammates doing god knows what on a team-building outing. Her ex-husband was off celebrating his engagement. And she was alone. 
Hot tears pricked at green eyes in the shadow of her hands, but Katie didn’t let them fall. Deep, heavy breaths from years of hiding her frustrations with her husband kept them at bay, but Dottie noticed. She always noticed. 
Which was why her voice had softened when she spoke again, “Show me what’s in your suitcase?”
“My suitcase?” Katie croaked out, her hands coming down to rest against the pale freckles skin of her thighs. 
“Yes, your suitcase.”
Stepping forward, Katie took her phone in her hold and flipped her camera around for Dottie to see. The suitcase was mostly empty now, save for the jacket she had packed at the bottom. The rest of her clothes she had tucked away in the dresser drawers. She had packed just enough clothes to last the three-day trip. Her main outfit was a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt she planned to wear under a jersey to the hockey game the following night. Everything else was meant to be worn during sightseeing, or on the flight home. And every bit of it was practical. 
“No, no, love. Why do you do this to yourself?” Dottie sighed, her shoulder slouching forward. Dottie, herself, was a bit of a fashionista. She always wore the latest trends and was always seen in the brightest colors. Because, well, Dottie liked to be seen. “Where is the sext shit we bought last time we went out?”
“Back home?” Katie spoke in more of a question, her brow raising as if where it was wasn’t already obvious. “I wasn’t coming out here intending to seduce my ex-husband, Dot.”
“You’re in Boston, Katie! A city full of eligible bachelors you can forget about the moment you fly home.”
“Dot-”
“When was the last time you got laid, Katie?”
Her stomach sunk, her mouth going dry at the question. Dottie already knew the answer to that question, but she was trying to use it to motivate her now, even if Katie hated it when she did that. 
“You would have heard about it if it happened.”
“You’ve been divorced for over a year, Katie - separated for two. It’s time to ditch the vibrator.”
Katie let out a long, frustrated huff, fighting the urge to toss her phone onto the pillow. She knew exactly where this was going. “I’m not using that stupid dating app-” 
Tinder. Bumble. Plenty of Fish. Hinge. If it was a dating app, she was on it, and failing miserably at it. Dottie’s daughter, Megan, had set her up with the accounts. Helped her pick every flattering picture and even wrote her biography to cater to the current dating scene. And it had only led her to two types of people, men just like her husband who were divorced and looking for their next way to mother them, or were young men - too young for her to comfortably consider - with mommy issues. And both had gifted her far too many unsolicited pictures of their cocks. 
Just the thought of opening the app made her want to gag. 
“Then don’t,” Dottie spoke, her tone assuring and not forceful. “Just do this one thing for yourself. Go buy a nice dress and a pair of underwear that haven’t seen postpartum. Something sexy. Something to make you feel confident, and go out to dinner. Take yourself out. Hell, even if it’s just the hotel bar. Get a drink and try to have a little fun. For me.”
Dottie dipped her chin down and pouted her lips. Growing up, it was always how Dottie had gotten her way, and sometimes it still worked. Just like it had then. 
“Fine.”
“Good, now, I gotta go,” she spoke, and her screen was suddenly a rush of color as she was on the move, “The twins have a game tonight.”
Dottie was a mother of three. Megan, 18, the same as Parker, was off at university, but the twins were only 12. And had a very extensive hockey schedule to maintain, which kept Dottie’s schedule busy and her hands full. 
“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you,” Katie waved her hand at the phone casually, “Tell Brandon and Brayden Auntie Katie is cheering for them-”
“Don’t think this gets you off the hook,” Dottie added quickly, “I want a selfie of you looking sexy at the bar. Love you. Kisses!” 
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Shopping alone was something Katie loathed. Nothing ever fit her proportions right, especially after the rollercoaster that was going from a size 2 to pregnant to struggling with her weight postpartum, to a grueling weight loss journey that brought her to a weight that she could be both healthy and happy with. But Katie wasn’t skin and bones. She was soft and curvy with an ass that was maybe a little bigger than she would like, and breasts that didn’t match the fashion industries’ standards of what her body was supposed to look like. It was that fact that left her rotating out of each boutique's change room, trying on one dress and then the next before she found one dress that fit her body just enough for her to confidently make the purchase. 
It was a little black dress that stopped just below the knee. It was sleeveless, and the deep vee neckline showed off her cleavage with a little help from some strategically placed fashion tape. The dress hugged her curves without restricting her stride and left her feeling sexy as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took her time to do her hair and makeup for her night on the town. 
Aka. Her night at the hotel bar. 
It was only a short walk from the elevator to the bar's entrance. The dark bar filled with the warm amber glow of the lights that hung above each table, and along the high traffic points of the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t consider going to a place like this. Katie liked to be able to see what she was eating and drinking. But tonight she was desperate. Desperate and alone with no thought in her mind that the latter would change. Besides, she just needed to be there long enough to take a few pictures and leave without an empty stomach. With those two facts in mind, Katie walked into the bar with the confidence only a mother could have and seated herself down the bar.
It’s the most lit area of the establishment, her seat was right beside one of the beautiful bronze light fixtures. It set her face aglow, her bright red lipstick and dark mascara framed eyes illuminated so fully she feared she might look like a clown, but she tried not to focus on the insecurities of dining out alone. Instead, Katie pulled out her phone and texted a quick picture of herself to Dottie. She looked a little more anxious than sexy, but it proved she was out. Then, she took a picture of the light fixture before placing her phone screen down on the bar top and welcomed a menu as it was placed in front of her.
The barkeep was nice, and if she was younger she might have mistaken his kindness for flirtation. But Katie knew better. It was his job to be friendly. Good service meant better tips, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t need the confidence boost. It, at the very least, left her smiling as she looked over her menu and ordered a drink to start: a Negroni Sbagliato. 
It would be the first of two during her meal. The first left her more comfortable being out in Boston alone. The second gave her the confidence to lift her phone from the bartop. Her fingers hovered over the darkened screen before she awakened its brightness with the single click of the home button. Her eyes had to squint at the harshness of its light, her eyes having adjusted to the bar’s moody atmosphere before she could be greeted with the series of notifications from Dottie. 
She was at her son’s hockey game, but she had taken the time to respond to the photo with a series of flame emojis. Quick, but effective support that had Katie’s finger leaning towards the Tinder app that she had tucked on her last page of applications. 
The screen came to life with an even harsher light, leaving Katie to flinch in her seat as she tried to hide her screen beneath her arm. At her age, there was nothing more embarrassing, in her mind, than being on a dating app. She looked down at the first profile carefully as she brought her phone down to her lap, her thumb swiping left on the first eligible bachelor who didn’t look all that eligible when she was sure the woman in the picture was his wife, and not his sister or a friend. Then the second, third, and fourth men in her radius were all at the bottom of her age range and looked all too young. 
In her position, Katie knew she shouldn’t be so picky. She was in Boston for only a few days. Alone for one night. If anyone wanted to meet her for a drink, or at the very least provided a pleasant series of text messages before ghosting her when she found out she was a mother, she would be able to label the night as a success. 
With each passing profile, Katie fell further into defeat and accepted that she would be enjoying her night alone. And she accepted that as she sipped at what was her second drink, only for it to gently choke at her throat at a soft, unfamiliar voice spoken at her side. 
“I’d swipe right on you.”  
The words sent a blossom of heat through Katie from her heart to her cheeks and the tips of her toes. Unsolicited, they should have flooded her with dread. But they were flirtatious and left her giddy before she could even offer the man more than a glance. It had been a long time since someone hit on her at a bar, and it left her sitting taller in her seat. Confident. 
That was until she looked right, and to the man who had greeted her with his flirtatious words. Her stomach was left unsettled. He wasn’t ugly. Far from it with his tall, lean stature, chestnut brown hair, and eyes a warm brown hue that could so easily tempt her into comfort if she let them. But he was young. Younger than anything in her age range on any of the dating apps on her phone. He looked older than her son, but she may have mistaken them for the same age if it wasn’t for the beginnings of a beard along the angles of his jawline. 
As quickly as her stomach fluttered with butterflies, she was flooded with disappointment. She wouldn’t even entertain a man as young as he was. But Katie was too polite. 
“That’s very flattering,” there was a hint of a smile in her voice as she looked down at the bartop to hide the blush that still threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “But I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”
The statement seemed to amuse him, his smile growing as he stepped up to sit on the barstool next to her. He, whoever he was, was getting too comfortable. It left Katie shifting in her seat, suddenly all too aware of how her heels hooked on her stool and how her thighs pressed together uncomfortably as her ass was cradled by her seat. 
“I don’t believe it,” he wore a boyish grin as he turned his body just enough to give her all of his attention, “You here, looking like that…”
Katie could feel his eyes drag up and down the length of his body, admiring her figure and how it looked in her little black dress. 
“Being anyone’s mother would be a shock to me,” he finished his train of thought, his words still on the verge of flirtation. 
Katie wanted to accept it. To feel flattered by his interest however great or mild it may be. But there was an anxiety that bubbled deep in her stomach. One that left her paranoid that this could be a joke. Shifting in her seat, Katie did a glance around the bar. Looking from table to table she looked for anyone that the man beside her could be associated with. But the bar was quiet. There was a table with what looked like a bridal party that would be pregaming before hitting the town. Then, there was a table of old-timers who may have been regulars or retirees visiting the city. Neither were crowds he would be a part of. That was unless he was homosexual. But, if he were, he wouldn’t be seated beside her at the bar, hitting on her. 
“You’re too kind,” she spoke slowly, trying to be polite. 
“What can I say, my mama raised me right,” he smiled a boyish grin, “which is why I’d like to buy you a drink.”
Katie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the offer, her head cocking to the side as she spoke; “You don’t have to.”
“I insist.”
Katie had to give him one thing, he was confident. She could see it in how his dark eyes didn’t tear away from her, and how his shoulders remained strong instead of slouching with each of her flattered but deflective responses. He could have taken her brief remarks as being disinterested - which in a way she was disinterested if only because of his apparent age - yet, he persisted.  
Reaching up with his hand, the mystery Bostonian flagged down the bartender and met him with a smile. He ordered himself a drink, before nodding towards Katie and requesting another for her as well. Then, he offered him his credit card. Katie’s eyes lingered on the piece of plastic as it was passed from one man to the other. It was just a typical credit card. Nothing fancy that would indicate that he was a man with exceptionally deep pockets, and her stomach filled with dread as she realized that she had probably let some poor college student pay for her drink. 
It left her mouth tasting sour as her third drink of the evening was placed in front of her. So sour, that she almost rejected it. But it was already paid for, so she accepted it and decided that if he ordered a second for himself, she would pay for it. 
“Thanks,” she spoke across the short distance between them, her body turning to be a little more open to a conversation. 
Talking to him was the least that she could do. 
“What brings you to Boston…” he started, his words trailing off. He wasn’t done with his question, yet, he was asking her for something already. 
Blankly, Katie stared at him, unsure of what exactly he was fishing for until it hit her. He wanted to know her name. She could feel her face go red with the realization, and redder when she hesitated when she almost said her full name, Katherine. 
Katherine felt old. Stale. Everything she was trying to avoid being, so she gave him her nickname instead, “Katie.”
“What brings you to Boston, Katie?”
“Visiting family,” she kept her answer brief without the messy details. And without the mention of having a son that she was sure was only a few years younger than him. “What about you…”
“Jeremy,” he was quicker to answer, his hand reaching out halfway. She smiled at the gesture, reaching out and meeting his hand with hers in a simple handshake before she withdrew to wrap her fist around her glass. 
“What brings you to Boston, Jeremy?”
“Nothing too exciting, just work.”
Just work. Such a simple answer. Straightforward. No details. And she could have asked for more, but he met her level of secrecy - of mystery - all the while making his intentions known. He didn’t need to disclose his life to her, or her to him, because he couldn’t care less if he was just looking for a woman to take back to his room. But before she could confirm her theory to be true, he pressed her for more. 
“If you’re here to visit with family, why are you alone?”
Katie wasn’t sure what she heard in Jeremy’s voice when he asked that question. If it was merely curiosity or pity, she hadn’t known him long enough to know. But it left her smile wavering as she answered him, “Busy schedules,” she shrugged her shoulders to give off a feeling of carelessness even though it was still bothering her, “I’ll see them all in the morning.”
“How early?”
 If she had been taking a sip of her drink, Katie would have choked again. “You aren’t very discreet.” 
“I can’t afford to be. A beautiful woman like yourself, you could fly off tomorrow and I’d never see you again. At least I can know I took my shot.”
Katie cocked her hair to the side, her bright auburn hair cascading down between her shoulders as her eyes looked at Jeremy in disbelief. He was the very definition of a golden retriever. Happy, waiting with the greatest anticipation that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. And he was waiting for her to throw her a bone. 
Biting her lip, Katie placed her drink down on the bartop and her gaze followed after. She shouldn’t have been considering it. Yet there she was, her hands came to rest around her phone and gripped it tight as one thought was clear in her mind. She needed to call Dottie. 
“Can you excuse me for just a moment?” she asked slowly. 
Jeremy answered with a curt nod, his smile unwavering as he watched her with his wide brown eyes. 
With his permission, Katie couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough. She slid from the stool, and her heels slipping on the hardwood. It left her unsteady for a moment, her hand reaching out to catch herself on the bar, but before she could reach the polished wood a pair of large, warm hands had wrapped around her waist.  
The heat of his touch blossomed through Katie’s belly, sending her breath to hitch in the depths of her throat. She wanted nothing more but to hide her surely reddened face in her hands with embarrassment. She wanted to curse herself for her clumsiness, but she was frozen in his hold as he breathed out a whisper she could barely hear but could feel against her cheek; “Don’t worry. I got you.”
His touch. 
His words. 
It was almost enough to make her shudder. But with one shallow, forced breath Katie found her composure  and gave his arm a careful squeeze and a thank you that he might not have been able to hear. Then, she was drying back, her steps quick as she moved for the privacy of the woman’s washroom. It was there she was able to pull out her phone and call Dottie. But Jeremy’s touch was not forgotten, it’s warmth remained deep in her belly, lingering. 
“Where’s the fire?” There was an alertness in Dottie’s voice, nothing but the peaks of her face visible on the screen as she lay in the dark. Katie could only see more of her tired features as Dottie squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. “Wait,” her tone was one of disbelief, “are you still out?”
“Yeah,” Katie’s voice was uneven as she reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “and I think I have a problem.”
“If it’s your card, I told you so. I knew you should have called the bank before you went-”
Shaking her head, Katie cut her off, “No, no, there’s a guy?”
Dottie perked up, any sign of sleepiness void from her face in an instant. “A guy? What are you calling me for? Take him to bed!”
Her excitement was contagious, not even the complaints from Dottie’s tired husband who lay beside her in bed could spoil the mood. Katie wanted to be able to revert back to her younger self. To squeal with excitement over a man. A man who thought she was sexy - who wanted to sleep with her with no strings attached. But it wasn’t that simple. 
“It’s just that,” Katie chewed her lip, a heavy sigh rocking her shoulders, “he’s young.”
“How young is young?” Dottie asked slowly, and cautiously as they waded into dangerous territories together. 
“I don’t know,” she sighed, “they didn’t card him. Maybe, twenty-five. No more than thirty.”
“Shit,” Dottie cursed, the single word drawn out and earning another grunt of disapproval from her husband, “he cute?”
“Very.”
“Well, I mean… Thirty isn’t too bad.”
“That’s IF he’s thirty, Dot,” she emphasized, her eyes wide as she dropped her voice lower at the sound of someone entering the washroom. 
“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Dottie asked. 
Katie thought for a moment, her teeth chewing her lip as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As a woman, there were many horrible scenarios a woman could end up in when dating. Ending up dead was the worst of the worst, but she didn’t take it to that extreme. “Worst case? He’s a twenty-one-year-old fuckboy like the ones we warned Megan about before she went off to college. And I end up with the clap.”
Dottie’s laugh was lost on the flush of the toilet in the stall next to Katie, and the rush of the sink as the stranger in the bathroom washed their hands. It was a mess of noise, but Katie could still make out Dottie’s next question, “Best case?”
Katie hesitated as she threw her head back to rest against the stall. She was embarrassed by the answer. 
Dottie answered for her, “Best case you get laid for the first time in what is it? Two years?”
Hearing it outloud sent her stomach sinking? Had it really been that long? 
Katie cursed under her breath, her head hanging low. When had she let her life get so pathetic? For years, her life had one priority, raising her son. And she had done a good job, he was successful, about to play in his first NHL game after starting his season with the Bruins’ AHL affiliate.  But she never really moved on from her divorce, and from being a mom. Her ex-husband was engaged, and ready to start a new family. But she hadn’t even fucked someone anyone since her divorce. Even then, she and her husband hadn’t even shared a bed before their divorce. She couldn’t even recall the last time they slept together, even if she wanted to. 
From her throat erupted a long, unsatisfied groan. Her mind quickly fell on a decision that she may come to regret. 
“Dot,” she sighed, “is it fucked up if I take him back to my room?”
Silence hung between the two of them for a moment. Dottie processed the decision, and Katie waited anxiously for her friend to tell her if she was making the wrong decision.
“Teach the kid a thing or two,” Dottie spoke, the playful nature of her words lifting a weight of insecurity from her shoulders. 
“Dottie, thank you,” she spoke quickly, one hand going to the lock on the door while the other ended the call. 
With the decision made, with a little help from her friend, all Katie could do now was hope that Jeremy had waited for her at the bar. If he hadn’t she couldn’t blame him for leaving. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. Or he had just come to the bar to kill time before a night out in Boston, and she was merely the entertainment. She couldn’t let herself get too hung up on him if he were gone, but thankfully, she didn’t have too. Jeremy remained at the bar. Standing instead of propped up on his stool, his hand slipping something into his back pocket on her approach. 
And Katie, she didn’t waste any time being coy. “I don’t have reservations until 11.”
The smile that was beginning to feel like a welcome constant on Jeremy’s features grew at her words. Katie wasn’t sure if it was the question he was expecting, but it was clear that it was the one that he was hoping for and it flooded her stomach with butterflies. 
She was going to do it. 
She was going to take this attractive young man back to her room. 
“Let me just pay my tab,” Katie told him, her hands already on her purse to dig out her credit card. She merely pressed her jump against the thin, cold plastic card when the bartender threw his towel over his shoulder and raised his hand to reject her payment. He didn’t want it. Katie’s brow furrowed, then it hit her. It had already been paid for. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” she was quick to quip. Katie knew she should have been thanking him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. She was a grown woman. Successful in her own right. She was more than capable of paying for her own meal. 
“It’s nothing, really,” Jeremy shrugged it off, his arm sliding behind her to rest on her back so effortlessly it was as if they had come to the bar together. 
“Let me pay you back,” Katie insisted, earning the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he began to lead her out to the lobby. She almost scoffed. As if he knew where her room was - because she wasn’t going back to his. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen on her terms. That also meant, shoving her hand into her wallet and shoving a fist full of American money in his direction. 
Jeremy continued to refuse, his one hand reaching out to guide her hand back towards her open wallet. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner-” She voiced, ready to fight him on it further, but his answer stopped her in place. 
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”
Katie stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, her head slightly cocked to the side as she slid out of Jeremy’s reach. He only took a few strides before looking back at her with such warmth in her eyes she thought she might melt. Jeremy was sweet. Too sweet. Acting in every way he had wanted her husband to when they were married, and he was just a young man. It was a cruel thing in a way. For the universe to taunt her with him, but she would let herself enjoy him, if only for the night. 
“Come on, I’m up on the fourth floor,” as she spoke, Katie’s words softened. She wouldn’t be fighting him about her bill again. If he wanted to be a gentleman, she was going to let him. 
They boarded the elevator together, Katie drawing her key card and moving to the right, and Jeremy boarding and leaning against the far left wall. Scanning her card, the elevator doors shut, the two of them alone together for the first time as the elevator began its slow ascent.
The movement made it feel as if her heart was sinking to the depths of her stomach, her anxiety building, as she leaned back against the right side of the elevator directly across from Jeremy. He was smiling still, watching her, admiring her. And she couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious. 
Her smile had him smiling wider. 
Then, he pushed off the wall of the elevator and closed the short distance between them. He moved so quickly her anxieties didn’t have enough time to worsen, nor did they ease. Her heart raced in the depth of her chest as his hands found her waist, drawing her in from the cold support of the elevator wall and into the strength of his body. He was lean, maybe even a little too lean for her liking, but she could feel how strong he was as her body was pulled flush with his. Katie could feel it first in his grasp, as Jeremy’s fingertips pressed into the curves of her waist. Then again, as her hands braced against his chest, her own careful touch sliding up - feeling his pectorals flex in the process - and around before linking behind his neck. Her tough welcomed Jeremy in, and with him came his kiss. 
Katie had to press up onto her toes to meet it, even in her heels. Teetering on the toes of her heels as Jeremy leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She had expected it to be a desperate kiss. One that was sloppy, and would leave her face wet and her eyes rolling, but she was wrong. Jeremy kissed her slowly, both hands on her hips for one moment, the next one had risen to stroke over the soft skin of her cheek. His thumb dragged over the smooth flesh, and down to catch on her chin, drawing her mouth open. Katie had to choke back a moan at the feeling of his tongue slipping in between parted lips. The warm stroke of his tongue infiltrated her mouth, the depth of the kiss leaving her legs weak as the elevator door chimed. 
They had reached her floor. 
red
She licked her lips as she drew back, her hands falling to her clutch to fumble with its contents for her room key. If she was fumbling with her purse, she wouldn’t have to look up and risk anyone else seeing the red lipstick that quickly became a mess on her face. She could feel how it was smudged off her lips, and she was sure that if she looked to Jeremy who now followed behind her like a shadow, that it would be smeared over his lips as well. 
But she didn’t look up. Not until she got to the door of her room and she took a deep breath. Once she crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. The thought left her on the verge of vomiting as she heard the lock click, and her hand reached for the door handle. She was nervous, more than that. Anxious. She was anxious. But there was an excitement that left her shivering as she led Jeremy into her hotel room. 
If he was going to kiss her like that, she couldn’t wait to see what else he intended to do with her. But first-
“Do you want another drink?” Katie asked him quickly as she came to stand in front of the small console table in the entryway. She placed her clutch there, and her key and had intended to peel away from it to move to the small bar in her room, but she found herself trapped between it and Jeremy’s body as the door shut behind her. 
Hands splaying out over the table, Katie braced herself there as Jeremy’s hands returned to her body. One snake around her waist, easing her to lean back into him while the other carefully pushed her loose auburn curls away from the pale skin from her neck. Her eyes went wide, fixated on the horrible piece of art that hung on the wall as his hot breath encroached on her neck. It washed over her in heated waves. The hot moisture was almost enough to make her sweat, but instead Jeremy left her melting. His kiss was slow against her neck. Peppering at first before his lips were dragging down her skin, leaving hot trails down to her collarbone and back up again. 
Her heart fluttered. Then it pounded. So loudly, all Katie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. It left her eyes fluttering shut, her mind focused on nothing but the kiss of his lips and the touch of his hands on her body. He caressed her curves, gripped at her flesh and kissed every bit of exposed skin on her neck, throat and shoulders. And it all left her melting, her mind fuzzy, and any bit of inhibition was ready to leave her and let him do as he pleased with her body. That was until she left his hand encroached on the hem of her dress. The warm touch of his hand on the sensitive skin of her thigh sent her head into a panic. 
This was the beginning of foreplay. 
Katie should have expected it, she should have been looking forward to it. But it left her nerves raw. In all the years she had been married to Ronnie, foreplay had been forgotten. Sex was an obligation and it was quick. A mere tool used to please her husband while she was left to finish herself off in the shower or beside him after he had fallen asleep in bed. Back then, it didn’t matter if she was dressed in lingerie or pajamas. If she had a fresh shave, or hadn’t shaved for weeks. Ronnie didn’t care - or atleast, he always said he didn’t. But now, as a stranger’s hands were so eager to explore every inch of her body, it left her self conscious. 
“I’ve got whiskey at the bar,” Katie breathed out quickly, her knees weak as she stepped away from him and quickly moved for the bar. 
She was met by Jeremy’s low chuckle,“I’m not that bad looking, am I?”
“No - no, it’s not that - I’m sorry,” Katie apologized, her hand grasping at one of the little bottles of rum from the bar, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’m just a little nervous.” 
“How long’s it been?” His words were casual, his confidence unwavering even as she found her so close to plummeting. 
“Since when?” She asked slowly, seeking clarification if only to bide herself more time. Katie didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but she wasn’t a liar. 
“Since you’ve had casual sex?”
“You really don’t want to know,” she countered. 
Omission was not the same as lying. 
Looking up from the bar top, and the bottle of whiskey in her hand that she had yet to uncork her eyes rose to look at Jeremy who had found his way to the end of her bed. He had seated himself down, his shoes kicked off his feet, and he leaned back on his elbows, lounging casually in the bed that had yet to be slept in. 
While he laid back, so casually, that he could have let his head lul back and let himself stare at the ceiling. But even as he relaxed there, waiting for her nerves to be put at ease by a little liquid courage, his soft brown eyes were fixated on her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, a quivering breath coursing through her body as she held his stare. It was soft, alluring in a way that left her ready to answer anything he may ask of her and it left her curing under her breath. It was a dangerous thing, just how easy to trust he was. 
Pouring her drink, straight whiskey into her glass, she sipped the room temperature alcohol back and let it burn. Then, under the blaze of it consuming her, Katie answered, “Twenty years.”
“Bullshit.”
Katie’s lips pressed together in a small smile, the shock on his ace coaxing an innocent shrug from her shoulders. 
“You don’t look a day over thirty.”
“Now that is bullshit,” she pointed at him, her lips spreading into a wider grin now. 
“You look incredible. That dress, your body. What can I say? You caught my attention. But I bet that dress looks even better on the floor.”
Katie swallowed back the lump that quickly formed in her throat as his words. She was very self conscious about her body. It changed drastically over the years. Once she was skinny, flat and narrow in no way the healthiest version of herself. But it was also the one that had carried her child, and left her with curves she didn’t want and scars only her ex-husband had seen. And now she was going to share it with Jeremy, a man who she was sure still had so much to learn about a woman’s body. It was a terrifying thought. One that hung in the back of her mind as she abandoned her drink on the bar and stepped out of her heels. 
Barefoot, she took careful strides towards the bed, her demeanor caught somewhere between confident and terrified, but it caught his attention all the same. Katie knew she had caught his eye when his smile tested the limits of how far it could spread over his cheeks as Jeremy sat up from where he leaned. He moved slowly to the edge of the bed, his legs spreading just enough for Katie to stand between them. 
With a careful, final step, Katie stood between his legs and looked down at him. Her heart pounded deep in her chest, so hard and so rapidly she thought her ribs were about to rattle. And in her chest, she could feel her very last inhale struggling to creep its way back up her throat in the calm of an exhale. It burned in her lungs, the nerves of undressing in front of him smothering her. That was, until she felt the warms of Jeremy’s hands find her body, and in an instant she calmed. 
She exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips as her eyes fell shut. In the darkness it brought, Katie fixated on the warmth of Jeremy’s touch. It dragged over her curves, tracing each rise and fall with his fingers and palms before each of his hands settled on her broad hips. There, he gripped her gently and guided her steps in a small circle so she stood with her back to him. 
Katie raised up her arms slowly, her hands dragging up her own neck and tangled into her auburn strands as she drew them away from the zipper of her dress. Her breath hitched again, but only for a moment,  in the back of her throat as she felt his fingers pinch at the zipper and drag it down. He inched it down slowly, and Katie could feel the black fabric begin to fall away from her skin. And as the warm fabric fell away, the cold air of the room kissed her skin. It sent a shiver coursing up her spine, her entire body shuttering as the fabric hit the ground, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace pair of panties. 
They were brand new. The tag was in the trash bin in the bathroom. And Katie would be forever thankful that she had bought them when she bought the dress instead of wearing something she had packed. If she had been wearing anything else, she may have recoiled from his touch, but instead, as she turned in place to face him, Katie radiated confidence. 
He could see almost all of her, from her stretch marks to the freckles on her skin. Yet, Jeremy’s touch didn’t recoil, his hands continued to explore the expanse of her body and his dark eyes didn’t look away. Instead, they traced her every curve on the way back up to her face that was left blank from the nerves that came from waiting for his reaction. Katie was sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen a body like hers before. So old, so flawed, so-
Her thoughts were broken by Jeremy’s slow, soft spoken words. “Yeah, looks much better on the floor,” Jeremy punctuated his words with the slow swipe of his tongue over his lip as his warm gaze dragged up and down the length of her body. His complement dissolved any feeling of nervousness, of insecurity, that had consumed Katie. Her joints had been weak, and her heart racing, but he brought her calm. 
In that calm, Katie found her confidence. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her mind racing as she tried to determine what exactly her first move would be – and then she took it. 
One step, and then another, Katie brought her legs up to kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her weight as she straddled Jeremy’s lap. The denim on his dark jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs as his hands helped guide her down into his lap. Jeremy’s arms constricted around her, drawing her nearly naked body flush to his. Katie could feel his hot breath against her cheek, her inhale drawing in the sweet scent of alcohol before she stole a kiss from his lips. 
Katie wasted no time with sweetness or caution. Instead she kissed him with such an insatiable hunger, she knew tasting him on her tongue wouldn’t be enough. But it was a start. Each deep kiss and stroke of her tongue against his left his stubble to drag over the sensitive skin of her jaw and cheeks. It was rough, scratching against her skin and contrasting the tender movements of his hands as his warm touch moved up over the curves of her body. Jeremy’s touch settled on the broad curve of her hips, his fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh. And it was the only encouragement she needed to coax the subtle roll of her hips over the roughness of her jeans. 
Quickly, Katie became intoxicated by his kiss, by his touch and the very feeling of him between her legs. It began with the friction of his fly against the crotch of her panties, the subtle friction sparking the beginnings of her arousal. And then she felt him. His cock stiffened in the confines of his jeans, growing and becoming a thick outline that pressed up into the thick denim that divided them. Katie dragged her core up and down his clothed length, a shudder taking her body as a soft moan was coaxed from her lips. And it left Jeremy smiling as he pulled back just enough to tug off his t-shirt. 
Her eyes looked him up and down in a quick glance. Jeremy was fit. With his chest muscles flexing, the outline of his abs clear and his biceps building as he tossed his t-shirt aside, Katie almost tucked her tail and ran. He wasn’t an Adonis of a man, but he was intimidating in every way. Especially, while she was no idyllic beauty herself. 
“That’s just,” she exhaled a long, desperate breath, “not even fair.”
Jeremy’s grin grew wider, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, as he picked her up and flipped her to lay back against the comfort of the bed. The action left her breathless, her hands scrambling against the bed to ease herself upright until she felt Jeremy’s hand flat against her stomach to keep her in place as she lay just beneath the comfort of the hotel room pillows. She lay there panting for a moment, her hair a mess against the bed and her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt the bed shift, and Jeremy settle between her legs. 
“Just take a second, relax,” Jeremy’s hot words washed over the inside of her thighs, and her core clenched. 
The room around her seemed to spin as she lay there, her lips parted in disbelief as she felt his fingers hook on the black lace of her panties and dragged them down the length of her legs. She could feel the warm, wet puddle of her arousal as it dragged down against her inner thigh, and her stomach knotted as she felt the warmth of his breath encroach on her needy core. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been between her legs - if one had been at all, because she knew her husband never had been. But Jeremy didn’t hesitate. 
He lay on the bed on his stomach between her legs, his one hand sliding down from her hip, over the red curls of hair that trailed down over her pelvis and down to the slick folds between her thighs. He stroked her slowly, with two fingers barely brushing her slit before parting her with his fingers and tracing the sweet arousal at her core. Jeremy teashed her there, her heart racing as she tried so desperately to be calm. Her heart pounded, and her teeth care down on her lower lip in a firm bite, the pain a little distraction from the insecurities that threatened to consume her. She in no way felt prepared for this of all things. It was supposed to be a quick fuck, but then she felt him. The warmth of his tongue stroked over the entrance of her cunt and she moaned. 
It ripped up her throat before she could stop it, the heat and wetness of his long tongue a stark contrast to the colder temperature of the hotel room. And the sound only seemed to fuel him. He delved into her as if he was dehydrated and she was all he had to drink. His tongue parted her folds, and delved into her core leaving her cunt dripping with his saliva. His hands wound around her waist, one moving over the thick red curls of her hair as he blindingly fumbled for her clit as his face was buried between her thighs. 
Reaching down, her hand took hold of his carefully. Her fingers slid along his, gripping them carefully as she guided him to just the right spot. But once she guided him there, Katie’s touch didn’t leave him. Her hand remained resting over his. It kept his pressure even, and his motion just right as he rubbed her in slow circles. The action wound her up, the pleasure building like a wind up toy. Each stroke of his tongue, and every rotation of his fingers left her burning pleasure to coil in her stomach and soon she was seeing stars. She was so close to the brink of her pleasure, that her toes were curling against the sheets and her thighs threatened to close in on his ears. But that was where he left her, on the verge of her climax, as he trailed sloppy kisses down the inside of her thighs before he could push up and pull as his belt. 
Pushing up onto her elbows, she watched as she pulled his belt free, and worked his jeans and his boxer briefs down his legs together. It was hard not to stare, to admire the muscles of his body as she fished through his pocket or his wallet, and then the condom that was tucked in its folds. 
The wrapper became discarded on the bed beside her, and he worked the latex onto his cock, ready to take his place between her legs again, but she didn’t let him. Katie felt too guilty, selfish even, for having his face buried between her legs, and it had her pushing up from her place with a sudden surge of confidence. Her hands found the strength of Jeremy’s chest, a playful shove knocking him back to lay against the bed so she could climb into his lap once more. She took in a steady breath, her nose wrinkling for a moment as it crossed her mind that she may be too old for what she had in mind, but it didn’t stop her. 
With a single hand, Katie reached down between their bodies and took hold of his cock in her hand. She stoke it slowly, once and then again before she brought it to the entrance of her core. The mere pressure of the tip of her cock threatened to send her legs trembling before she could take him. If it were anyone else, Katie might have given up and let him take her plainly on her back knowing full well it would get the job done for her. But Katie persevered. She eased herself down onto him slowly, her eager core accommodating him so effortlessly it left her moaning. And once she felt his warmth against her ass, and had consumed him into the depths of her core, Katie began to ride him. 
Her hands braced herself against the slender strength of her chest as her hips rolled. She moved in a slow and steady rhythm, the friction sending pleasure boiling through her entire body. Katie became lost in the feeling of hip hips rising to meet her body in a gentle pound. It was all she could fixate on, even as her legs began to tremble and the muscles in her legs began to burn. She could hear each subtle impact, the meeting of skin, and it became a symphony of sounds that mixed with her desperate breath and the soft sounds that she coaxed from Jeremy’s lips. He reeled on the bed beneath her, his warm eyes admiring her body as his hands gripped her hips and fingers sunk into the flesh of her ass. He encouraged her every move, guiding her up and down his cock, but she couldn’t hide how her legs trembled. 
Jeremy grinned wide, his head leaning back against the pillow as he let out a trembling breath of words, “Look so pretty taking my cock, you wanna see?”
Katie found herself at a loss for words as she slid down the length of his cock and froze with him deep inside her. Her breaths quaked under each uneven breath, and her mind was left fuzzy by the mere feeling of being so full of him. And all she could do was nod. 
Carefully, Jeremy eased her from his cock, and guided her to rest on all fours on the bed. In front of her at the end of the bed was the dresser, her empty bag still resting on top of it, but it wasn’t enough to block the view of the mirror that hung on the wall above it. She could see her reflection there, her auburn hair left mused and her face was almost just as red as it was flushed and smeared with her red lipstick. She could see her body too. Her skin was fair and freckled and so exposed. Her breast hung in two small swells, and from behind her shoulders she could see the swell of her hips and Jeremy positioning himself behind her. His eyes were fixated on her ass, as were his hands that kneaded at the soft flesh. 
Katie could see his lips move in a silent curse that was lost on her as he pulled he positioned her just right. And when he had her just where he wanted her, the careful glide of the tip of his cock found her entrance again, and her thrust deep inside. The first thrust left her mewling, and the second left her fingers to grip at the bedding below. She met every single one of Jeremy’s thrusts, the mass of her ass quaking from each impact. But she didn’t watch herself, Katie’s eyes did not leave Jeremy. She watched as his face softened, and his muscles flexed. His eyes even closed from the time as he became lost in the feeling – but when they opened his stare met his gaze in the mirror. 
Jeremy tutted her gently, a single hand leaving the soft flesh of her hip to travel up the length of her back. As he moved, she could feel more and more of his body against her. Then, his hand found her throat. He held it carefully, without pressure, and guided her up to kneel. There she could feel his entire body against hers, all the while his cock was buried deep in her core. His thumb rested along her chin, and his forefinger stretched out along her jaw, and Jeremey held her gaze there, on her own feeble expression as he fucked her until her throat was raw, and her core clenched desperately around her cock. It was under the pressure of her core’s embrace that she felt his breathing quicken,the rush of air hot against the back of her neck as he reached the very peak of his climax. 
His hands fell away from her lip ribbon, and Katie fell back onto her hands and knees. Her entire body trembled as she lowered herself down to the mattress. The soft twitches involuntary as she was left panting and void of Jeremy as he eased his cock from her. She was seeing stars, her head or the room spinning as the rush of being fucked began to fade. Katie was left exhausted, ready for sleep, but satisfied - feeling euphoria for the first time in years. But before she could sleep, she needed to take care of Jeremy. 
“You’re welcome to shower before you go,” she offered as she lay sprawled out on the mattress. It was the least she could do. 
“I’m going to take you up on that,” Jeremy carded a hand through his sweaty curls as he nodded towards what he thought was the bathroom door. 
Katie nodded in confirmation, and watched as he disappeared through the bathroom door. She did not move until she could hear the water tattooing against the shower floor. But she didn’t go far. She reached out to the dresser, and she pulled open the dresser drawer. She had left her pajamas on the very top, the same ones she was going to wear before Dottie had convinced her to go out, and she dressed slowly. Her body ached in the best way as she stepped into them. Then, she joined Jeremy in the bathroom. 
The room was full of steam, the mirror fogged over as she moved to stand in front of it. A single hand cut through the fog, revealing her tired reflection, but best of all she could see the silhouette of Jeremy in the shower behind her. She stood there, brushing her teeth, her eyes admiring his body as it was obscured by the steamy glass. 
Leaning forward, Katie spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. 
“I’m going to turn in, you can let yourself out when you’re done. Use all the hot water if you want, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t steal my wallet while I slept.”
Jeremy’s laughter filled the air as effortlessly as the plumes of steam from his shower. It drew Katie's eyes to his blurred silhouette, a small smile curling up on her own lips. She could get used to that sound, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with it. The joy and amusement it embodied was one she needed to embrace herself–
“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Katie.”
–And for a moment she frowned as she moved for the doorway, her eyes fixated on the ground, as she realized it was a laugh she wouldn't hear again.
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Sweaty palms threatened the integrity of a single slip of paper as Katie held it firm in a single fist. It was a pale yellow posted note, one that she had found stuck to her bathroom mirror when she had woken up in the morning. It was left there to be found by tired eyes, the message:  For if you ever find yourself alone in Boston. Paired with Jeremy’s phone number,  it had made her smile as she tucked it into her purse before she had gone out for brunch with her son, Parker, her ex-husband and his new fiance. But it had also left her panicked when it had fallen out of her purse when she pulled out her wallet as she insisted on paying at least half of the bill. It rested on the table face door for a moment, Katie had frozen completely and Parker was quick to try and retrieve it for her, but she had acted quickly. She had grabbed it before he could, and then she had conceded. Parker paid for their meal, and the paper had remained secured in her hand as they left and parted ways. 
Even as she walked alone in a park she couldn’t remember the name of, the slip of paper remained secure in her hand. In the other she held her cell phone against her ear as it rang. She needed to call Dottie. She needed to know everything. 
“He left me his number.”
“That’s my girl. Rocked that boy’s world.” Dottie encouraged her with a holler. 
Katie looked down to her feet, her face flushed with color. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything like she had with Jeremy, and if it had been anyone else Katie would have bit her tongue. But she could trust Dottie more than anyone. They were best friends, practically sisters, Katie could tell her anything. 
“I think he had to be older than I thought. He was actually really good in bed,” Katie smiled a little too wide as she spoke. It had been too long since she had a real girl talk. “Like really good. And his body, Dot, I couldn't have pulled a guy like that when I was twenty.” 
“What did he say he did for work?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask-”
“Maybe he’s a porn star,” Dottie joked but Katie didn’t laugh.
She could only shrug. “I mean, it would explain a lot.” 
“You used a condom, right?”
“Yes mom, of course I did,” Katie rolled her eyes. 
“Good girl, are you going to text him?”
The question hung in the air for a moment. Katie looked away out over the park as if Katie could see her on what was merely a voice call. The prospect of reaching out to Jeremy was a pleasant thought in her mind. He was attractive, kind, and so good in bed. He treated her the way that she wanted to be treated. She should want to call him, but he was young. Too young to be anything more than a one night stand. 
She could never see Jeremy again. 
“Fuck, no,” she assured Dottie, “number went into the trash,” her words were rushed as she lied, and rushed further to assure Dottie wouldn’t question her on it. “I gotta go, I’ll call you after the game tonight. Kisses!”
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TD Garden was unlike any arena Katie had ever been in. The fans were loud, so loud she swore her bones rattled in her body with every intense cheer. And the atmosphere left her sitting on the edge of the seat since before the game could even start. Or maybe that was just the nerves as she sat beside her ex-husband as they watched their son Parker Waylon-Stacy erupt from the tunnel to take his rookie lap. 
Her hands came together over her heart, her eyes fixated on him, and then the jumbotron above as the camera followed his path along the side. The threat of tears burned at her eyes, her lips parted in a breath that fought back of heartfelt sob that erupted when his name was plastered across the screen with his stats from the AHL. Parker Stacy.
Stacy. 
Her last name on her back, not her husband’s last name or the hyphenation of the two. It left ehr on the verge of tears throughout the night, and they did spill as it came down to the third period when she shot up from her seat as her son assisted on what would be the game winning goal. Katie cried into her hands, her husband’s arm patting her back as the crowd erupted around them. There was no greater pride than celebrating her son’s success in that moment with her husband, and the strangers around her that even offered her some napkins as her mascara began to run. 
“That’s my son,” she sobbed with pride, and the crowd of college kids around her celebrated with her. Some jumped, others spilled their beer, Katie even received a hug, but they all cheered, “Stacy's Mom!”
Katie remained in her seat after the game, reveling in the silence as the seats around her and her family cleared. And she only moved from her palace when she received a text message from Parker. He wanted them to come down to the locker room. It sent her through what felt like a maze of the arena, but with the help of a member of the security team, she found her boy. 
Katie ran to him, her arms enveloping her only son in her arms and pressing a kiss into his sweat drench hair. There the tears began to fall in hot streams down her cheeks, “I am so proud of you,” she told him as she drew back, her hand cradling his cheeks. Parker’s face was red, surely embarrassed by his mother’s affections, but he didn’t stop her. He had always been a mama’s boy, and that wouldn’t change even if his teammates gave him a hard time about that later. 
Parker wore a boyish grin, his hand raising to push through his wet hair. He was already showered and dressed, even if some of the other players around him were still half-dressed in their equipment. Parker was ready to leave, but first he wanted to make the introductions he felt he may never be able to make again. “Mom this is Patrice Bergeron-”
Katie turned in place, a smile blossoming over her face as she reached out to shake the Captain’s hand. She had every intention of being polite. She wanted to introduce herself, to make the small talk as she was prompted to. But her words were lost as hoots and hollers of the nickname Bulldog filled the room. The players were welcoming their rookie goaltender back into the room after completing his post game interview. Confidence embodied his every stride, and it drew Katie’s curious eye. 
The player was still dressed in his equipment, his back to her as he stood in front of his stall. SWAYMAN was sprawled across the back of his shoulders, framed by his shoulders. A single large hand reached back, peeling it from his body before it was tossed into a pile with the others. Katie’s eyes moved back to the Captain, a small awkward smile on her lips as she listened to him talk about the pleasure of mentoring her son. But his words were lost on her ears as they perked up at the sound of all too familiar laughter. 
Katie’s blood ran cold, her eyes searching for the sources of the laughter. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach jumping up into her throat as she was left on the verge of vomiting. There, standing in his stall, laughing along with his teammates was Swayman, who no longer stood with his back to her. He was completely shirtless now, and his face was all too clear to see. She knew those warm brown eyes, and that soft confident smile. The sight of them was one that would be etched into her memories for the rest of her days. 
Swayman was Jeremy. 
She stood there, petrified, her eyes unmoving from his as he leaned back and flexed his chest muscles. It was there, with his back leaned against his stall, his warm gaze rose and his face softened with recognition. If he was panicked he didn’t show it. And while she froze, Jeremy acted. He stood up slowly, Katie had to fight not to let her eyes wander, and he approached with a casual stride. 
“I didn’t realize we had guests,” Jeremy smiled as he came up to stand beside his Captain, but Katie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears. 
The room around her seemed to move in slow motion, her head suddenly feeling light as Patrice introduced her as Stacy’s Mom. It was then she thought she might actually vomit, the bile burning at the back of her throat as Jeremy looked to her with slightly parted lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. Her palms began to sweat, so much so that she had to wipe her hands along the seam of her jeans before she could reach out to shake Jeremy’s hand as he offered it to her. 
“Stacy’s Mom?” Jeremy spoke with such disbelief that Katie almost believed her, “You don’t look a day over thirty.”
White she had heard that same flattery before it made her heart race all the same. But this time, she couldn’t show it. 
“You’re too kind,” Katie forced a smile, struggling to remain composed as the feeling of her hand encased by his left her heart racing just as his touch had the night before. It was enough to bring her to her knees. 
Jeremy made her weak, and he would for the rest of her days. She would crave him, in every sense of the word. Katie wanted to hear his sweet laughter. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and enjoy every piece of his that he could offer her. It was a hunger that would rage and burn in the depths of her, but it was one that she could never fulfill. Not now, not that she knew who he was. 
Standing there, the chaos of the room became an echo in her ears as her hand fell away from Jeremy’s hold. She watched as he met her ex-husband, his smile consistently pleasant and was the only thing keeping her from spiraling right there in the locker room. 
Katie would be seeing Jeremy Swayman again. At games, during breaks. Often. So often it would pain her. And she could only pray that she would have the strength to refuse him, or that Parker would find himself on a new team before her will could break. 
Katherine Stacey could not fuck Jeremy Swayman. 
She wouldn’t. 
Not again. 
Surely, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not without complications. 
Could she? 
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Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl
130 notes · View notes
grandvhs · 2 years
Text
lista de nomes masculinos que estava no meu bloco de notas e eu só lembrei agora
starting with A ;;
aaron.
adair.
adam.
aiden.
ajax.
alec.
alfie.
allistar.
anderson.
andrew.
andy.
angus.
antonio.
anthony.
archer.
archibald.
archie.
aries.
arlo.
arthur.
ashley.
ashton.
austen.
avery.
axel.
starting with B ;;
bailey.
beau.
beckham.
beckett.
bellamy.
benjamin.
bennett.
bentley.
blade.
blake.
blaine.
blaise.
blue.
bobbie.
bodhi.
brad.
brandon.
braxton.
brayden.
brent.
brett.
brock.
brody.
brooke.
bryson.
starting with C ;;
caleb.
callum.
calvin.
cameron.
carlisle.
carlos.
carson.
carter.
casey.
chad.
chandler.
charlie.
chase.
chaz.
christian.
christopher.
cody.
colby.
cole.
cooper.
colton.
connor.
conrad.
corbin.
corey.
starting with D ;;
dakota.
dallas.
damien.
damon.
dante.
darian.
darron.
darryl.
david.
dawson.
declan.
demetri.
dennison.
denver.
derek.
diego.
diesel.
dimitri.
dixon.
dominic.
donovan.
drake.
drew.
dustin.
dwayne.
starting with E ;;
eason.
eaton.
eddy.
edmund.
edward.
elijah.
elior.
ellias.
elliot.
ellis.
elyas.
ember.
emerson.
emery.
emilio.
emmett.
enzo.
eric.
ernie.
ethan.
ethaniel.
evan.
everett.
everson.
ezar.
starting with F ;;
fabio.
fallon.
farah.
felix.
fernando.
ferris.
felton.
finn.
finnegan.
finnick.
fitz.
fitzgerald.
fletcher.
floyd.
flynn.
foley.
forest.
francisco.
franco.
frankie.
franklin.
fraser.
frasier.
freddie.
fredrik.
starting with G ;;
gabe.
gabriel.
gale.
gallagher.
garcia.
gareth.
garrett.
gary.
gavin.
gene.
george.
gerard.
gilbert.
giovanni.
glenn.
gordon.
grady.
graeme.
grant.
greggory.
gregor.
greyson.
griffin.
gus.
guy.
starting with H ;;
hadley.
hale.
haley.
hamilton.
hamish.
hansel.
harley.
harris.
harrison.
harry.
harvey.
haven.
hayes.
heath.
hector.
hendrix.
henrik.
henry.
holton.
howard.
hudson.
hugh.
hugo.
hunter.
hyde.
starting with I ;;
ian.
ibrahim.
icarius.
idris.
igor.
iman.
immanuel.
imran.
indi.
indiana.
indigo.
indra.
inrique.
irwin.
isaak.
isaiah.
isaias.
ishmael.
isobell.
israel.
ivan.
ivey.
ivor.
ivory.
izzy.
starting with J ;;
jack.
jacob.
jagger.
jai.
james.
jamie.
jason.
jaspar.
jaxon.
jaydon.
jed.
jeremy.
jesse.
jett.
joel.
jameson.
jonathon.
jordan.
jose.
joseph.
joshua.
jude.
julian.
junior.
justin.
starting with K ;;
kade.
kai.
kalen.
kameron.
kane.
kasey.
kayden.
keaton.
keegan.
keenan.
kellan.
kendall.
kendrick.
kevin.
khalil.
kian.
kiefer.
kieran.
kingsley.
kingston.
klaus.
kohen.
konrad.
kristoff.
kyle.
starting with L ;;
lachlan.
lamar.
lambert.
lance.
landon.
langston.
lawrence.
lawson.
leeroy.
lennon.
leo.
leonardo.
levi.
lewis.
liam.
lincoln.
lionel.
logan.
lorenzo.
louis.
luca.
lucas.
lucky.
lucis.
luke.
starting with M ;;
mackenzie.
madden.
maddox.
malaki.
malcolm.
manuel.
marco.
marcus.
marley.
marshall.
martin.
mason.
matteo.
matthew.
max.
micah.
michael.
miguel.
mike.
miles.
miller.
milo.
mitchell.
morgan.
moses
starting with N ;;
nadir.
naiser.
nasir.
nate.
nathan.
nathaniel.
naveen.
naydon.
ned.
nico.
neil.
nelson.
nero.
nicholai.
nicholas.
nila.
niles.
nixon.
noah.
noel.
nolan.
norman.
north.
nylan.
nyle.
starting with O ;;
oakley.
ocean.
octavius.
odell.
olaf.
oliver.
ollie.
omar.
omari.
orion.
orlando.
osborn.
oscar.
o’shea.
osten.
oswald.
otis.
otto.
owen.
oxley.
starting with P ;;
pablo.
page.
palmer.
parker.
parrish.
patrick.
paul.
paulo.
pax.
paxton.
payton.
penn.
percy.
perry.
peter.
phineas.
phoenix.
pierce.
pierre.
prescott.
presley.
preston.
prince.
princeton.
puck.
starting with Q ;;
qadim.
qadir.
quain.
quenby.
quill.
quimby.
quincy.
quinn.
quinten.
starting with R ;;
randy.
raymond.
reese.
reid.
remy.
reuben.
rhett.
rhys.
richard.
richie.
ricky.
riley.
robert.
robin.
roger.
roman.
romeo.
ronan.
ronnie.
ross.
rowen.
ryan.
ryder.
ryker.
rylan.
starting with S ;;
sage.
sailor.
salem.
samson.
samuel.
sascha.
sawyer.
saxon.
scott.
sean.
sebastian.
seth.
shane.
shiloh.
simon.
sinclair.
skyler.
sonny.
spencer.
stanley.
stefan.
steven.
stevie.
storm.
sullivan.
starting with T ;;
tamir.
tanner.
tate/tait.
tatum.
taylor.
teddy.
theo.
thomas.
timothy.
tobias.
toby.
todd.
tommy.
tory.
trace.
travis.
trent.
trevor.
trey.
tristan.
troye.
tucker.
tyler.
tyrone.
tyson.
starting with U ;;
umair.
umar.
urien.
usama.
starting with V ;;
valentine.
valentino.
vance.
vaughn.
victor.
vincent.
vinn.
vinnie.
vladimir.
starting with W ;;
wade.
walden.
wallace.
walter.
warner.
warren.
warrick.
waylan.
wayne.
wendall.
wes.
wesley.
west.
whitley.
wilbert.
william.
willis.
wilmer.
windsor.
winslow.
winston.
wolf.
wren.
wyatt.
wynter.
starting with X ;;
xachary.
xan.
xander.
xavier.
xeno.
ximen.
xylon.
starting with Y ;;
yahto.
yakub.
yasin.
yasi.
york.
ysrael.
yuri.
yusef.
starting with Z ;;
zachary.
zahir.
zander.
zane.
zavier.
zed.
zeke.
zion.
zolten.
245 notes · View notes
krispyweiss · 11 months
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Music from the Big 8-0: Happy Birthday Robbie Robertson
It happened eight decades ago - July 5, 1943 - Robbie Robertson was born in Toronto.
No one knew it then, but that Canadian boy would go on to essentially invent Americana music with a little band known as the Band.
Now 80, Robertson, stands alongside 85-year-old Garth Hudson as one of two surviving Band members.
Robertson started - as his Band mates Hudson, Levon Helm, Rick Danko and Richard Manuel did - with Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks. They then became Bob Dylan’s band; then simply the Band.
It was the perfect name for a nearly perfect group of musicians and singers whose songs sounded old when they were released and now are simply timeless. And though Robertson’s solo discography features just six LPs released between 1987 and 2019, when you’ve already written “The Night They Drive Old Dixie Down,” “The Weight,” “The Shape I’m In,” “Stage Fright,” “Up on Cripple Creek” and scads of others, you’ve got nothing left to prove.
Just keep living, man.
7/5/23
16 notes · View notes
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yeeaaahhh screw it im finally posting (some of) my RoTMNT ocs on tumblr dot com lol ! but it's them! the triplets! wahoo!!!
more art and actual info under the cut ^_^
So... you wanna hear about my tmnt ocs :3
i know most of this info is in the ref but: i like to yap so basic profile blocks ^^
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"One" Venus cis - she/her Turtle: Eastern Painted Turtle / Red-Eared Slider Weapon(s): fights with her fists and relies a lot on her mystic abilities Powers: can produce vine/tentacles from her left arm
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"Two" Ronnette "Ronny" genderflux - xe/ve/he/she (xe/xyr/xyr/xyrs/xyrself and ve/vis/vir/virs/verself) Turtle: Four-Eyes Turtle / Spiny Softshell Weapon(s): uses either steel claws or a bow and arrow depending on range Powers: air manipulation / telekinesis
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"Three" Lita demigirl & voidgirlflux - she/it or none Turtle: Albino Spotted Turtle / Alligator Snapping Turtle Weapon(s): uses a tessen and naginata, but mostly uses the naginata Power: time manipulation
so i don't have a set age for them yet, they're either a year younger or a year older than Mikey post-movie but I haven't decided ^^;
so these 3 are part of a post movie au idea i had, but is also technically during movie? idk!
their au isn't fully fleshed out on the specifics and the why's of certain things but that's ok :] Here's what i do have figured out though
They're from the Bad Future via the movie!
Initially made by Draxum using DNA from the original turtles and himself as well as some turtles he found (how? uh. dont ask)
Taken by the Krang as babies and infected with Krang DNA as well
They're "raised" and trained by the Krang to fight and defeat the rebellion, and assume the Krang made them
Three learns of their origins and attacks the Krang. She is sent to the prison dimension
Time passes: the rebellion is destroyed.
In the past Leonardo sends himself and Krang Prime to the prison dimension. He is there for a lot longer than he lets his brothers know.
There Leonardo meets Three. They become friends.
Then Leo's brothers come for him, and Three takes the chance to collect her own siblings
In a future no longer to come, Three appears, making her powers clear and known. She grabs her siblings, One and Two, and leaves
In the past, months after the attempted invasion a portal opens up above the Hudson River and out falls three turtle-krang creatures, two of which fighting each other while the other tries to stop them
The story begins.
that's the general gist of it :-)
As a note: I like the idea some people have of Leo being in the Prison Dimension for longer than thought of in canon bc of weird time stuff happening. Where it could be a few minutes for Raph, Donnie, and Mikey but it was months for Leo. Something like that :)
That's all i got for now, i'll try and make more posts about them, expanding on certain things and the why's and what that means (like why i picked what turtle combos, or why i picked what mystics, or when they figure out their powers, or why they chose their names) but i wanted to keep this intro post rather short ("short") so that'll do for now ^_^
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yeats-infection · 6 months
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do you maybe have a post somewhere that is a quick rundown on history of the band? (THE band) wanted to fully appreciate your new story, but have no idea where to get some coherent lore 🤍
ok thank you anon, this is a very reasonable question which i also find quite intimidating lol. i will TRY to attempt the history up to the point of the story in a way that's not just recapitulating the wikipedia page...
so the reason they were called the band was that they were the backing band for a number of different artists before they started recording their original songs. all five members (the drummer levon helm who was from rural arkansas, and the guitarist robbie robertson the bassist rick danko the organist garth hudson the pianist richard manuel who were all from various parts of ontario) came together between 1958 and 1960 as the backing band for a rockabilly guy named ronnie hawkins, an arkansas native who was huge in toronto for some reason. there are some "my mom sold me to ronnie hawkins" elements of the narrative (according to levon's memoir robbie's mom was like "my son can play guitar and write songs... i'm worried he's gonna end up in jail... can't he play with you or something..." he was fifteen years old). so they toured as ronnie's backing band throughout ontario and then throughout the south. this went on for several years during which they all became very strong players.
in late 1963 they had broader musical horizons and had had enough of ronnie telling them they couldn't smoke weed so they decided to go it on their own as levon and the hawks, because levon had the longest tenure in the band. they honestly struggled on their own at first to the extent that they were stealing food from supermarkets but eventually found their footing RIGHT ABOUT THE TIME that bob dylan was looking for an electric band to back him after the notorious newport folk festival 1965. bob went to see the hawks in toronto and asked levon and robbie to join his band; they did for a couple shows and then said they didn't want to do any more without the rest of their band and bob agreed and hired the rest of the hawks too. people were NOT FANS of dylan's new electric direction and they were booed during most of their sets. after about a month of this levon couldn't take it anymore and left in the middle of the night with the rough idea to work on an oil rig in the gulf of mexico. he only told robbie he was leaving and they each describe this moment fairly differently in their respective memoirs ...
so the rest of the band continued backing bob on a world tour in 1966 and some of them went to nashville with him to record blonde on blonde. in summer 1966 bob has a motorcycle accident and holes himself up in the town of woodstock, on the edge of the catskills in ulster county in the hudson valley in new york state, where he owns a house and so does his manager albert grossman. the band continues backing various other artists and session playing etc. but in february 1967 bob invited them to come up to woodstock. they took him up on the offer and three of them (rick, richard, and garth) moved into the house called big pink in west saugerties. for months robbie and bob came over every day and they recorded the basement tapes. around this time albert grossman managed to get the band a deal with capitol records. with this news they convinced levon to come back from the gulf...
so THAT is the simplified history up to the point of the story. the relevant history AFTER the point of the story which of course motivates how we now look at this moment in time is that levon completely excoriates robbie in his memoir (published in the 90s) for 1) being authoritarian over the direction of the band starting in the woodstock era, including the decision to end the band in 1976, and 2) taking sole songwriting credit and therefore making the most money for most of the music when levon contends a lot of the songs especially on the first two albums were written collaboratively. my perspective is that robbie can be forgiven for #1, because the rest of the band were increasingly using heroin, everybody was getting into numerous debilitating car accidents from constantly driving drunk, and other bad behavior abounded. and i think #2 is interesting, because 1) this is a larger conversation over who owns what and who gets paid for making art, and 2) i can also understand why, if nobody else could get their shit together to do anything, you would be like, well, i should reap all the fruits of my labors. but 3) i can also understand why you would be especially upset by this if you were the voice behind all these songs and had once been the bandleader! levon's memoir is really interesting (full disclosure i actually haven't read robbie's) because it is at times like a heartbreaking sketch of willful male emotional blindness. he admits many times "well, probably we should have talked about this" but they never did...
there's a lot more painful stuff we can dig into but here's their first album music from big pink and their second album the band. TO NOTE: levon, richard, and rick did almost all the singing, they each have quite distinctive lovely voices. something really excruciating and tantalizing to me i guess is captured in the idea of a person from toronto writing these beautiful americana songs about simple country mountain life for his friend who had actually lived that simple country mountain life to sing, like this gesture of genuine admiration and love for your friend's story, which is then haunted by the question of ownership of those songs for all time. you can believe robbie wrote those songs for levon to sing out of genuine friendship and then what happened is really heartbreaking.... or you can believe he was a sort of pretender after levon's story and purposefully never gave him credit... which is also a deeply poetic narrative... or it could be a little bit of both... or first one and then the other growing out of bitterness... we will never know. as always when we will never know there is lots of room to ruminate :)
lastly, here is a clip of them in 1976 from the film of the band's last concert (the last waltz) in which levon takes his own cigarette out of his mouth to light robbie's first
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forensicated · 9 days
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02x04 - Home Beat
TW: Racist and homophobic language and insinuations based on the time of filming (1980s)
Sun Hill arrive at a caravan site home to a group of Irish Travellers. They split up to search the caravans with Roy implying a video in one is stolen - until the wife finds the receipt and waves it under his nose. "Want to see the guarantee as well?" she glares. Roy hands it back and Jim apologises for bothering the owners. Outside Roy has his trousers and then leg attacked by one of the dogs, much to the amusement of the gathered officers. With nothing found they return to Sun Hill and head to the canteen minus Roy who has had to go to A&E after a dog bite. "Oh, poor dog." Bob pouts. Jim is placed on home beat with Yorkie as he hasn't had any so far in his probation.
Pete calls the travellers "Gypsies" and says the police should have torn their caravans apart to teach them a lesson as he's certain they're hiding something. "They're all the same." he claims when Jim points out it would hardly be the same ones who stole his bike when Pete was a child. Pete puts the cherry on the cake by calling Abe 'Snowball'. Abe doesn't rise to Pete's attempt to rile him. So far there's been absolutely nothing likable about Pete in the four episodes since his arrival. Thank goodness he doesn't last long.
Bob finds Roy limping up the stairs. "Hear the dog died of rabies? "Place it in the book please, injury on duty." Bob really cheers him up by humming 'How Much Is That Doggy In The Window' as he returns downstairs after telling him that another video has been stolen during a break-in at Derry Street.
Yorkie goes to speak to Roy before taking Jim out home beat (now community policing/safer neighbourhood team). He walks in on him gingerly pulling his trousers back on after redressing his wound.
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Roy asks if he has any idea who might be behind the break-ins. "You mean now we know it's not the Gypsies, sir?" he asks pointedly.
As they patrol, Yorkie advises Jim to keep talking to the community, even if they don't talk back to him, and to visit the local schools, churches, mosques and other places of worship as well as shops. We get our first sight of Nick Stringer (Ron Smollet) as Terry Mitchell, a member of the public singing Yorkie's praises to Jim on Yorkie's beat.
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A Bengali family has been getting abused since they moved into Derry Street. Yorkie promises the shopkeeper that he'll speak to his bosses and try to get them to take more action but he can't promise anything. Yorkie says it used to be a good estate with no problems but at least he's finally able to get a Neighbourhood Watch group up and running. Yorkie warns Jim that Terry Mitchell is a bit too good to be true. He's supposed to be on benefits but is never short on cash. Something about him makes him suspicious. Before he can continue, Jim finds a drunk and hurries to help - unfortunately, he ends up being vomited on just as Yorkie starts to warn him not to move the man. He then tells him it could be worse. He'd had to give mouth to mouth to a crystal meth addict the week before.
One of the local residents, Maisie, soaks Jim's trousers for him. She reports lots of local problems and claims that the Neighbourhood Watch might finally help them get them stopped. "If I catch the little buggers, I'll-" She starts before Yorkie tells her they don't want vigilante action - just people to report what they see and hear so the police can get it stopped. He asks her if the Bengali family will attend and she says no and that the council were out of order moving them there. Yorkie doesn't understand as other minorities have moved into the area but she claims they attract trouble.
As they move deeper into the estate it becomes obvious where the Ahmed's (the Bengali family) live as they have racist filth painted on their front door. Yorkie claims they don't help themselves by not trusting the police. Jim claims that it's not surprising because where they came from "the police are bully boys with big sticks." Jim goes to go and speak to them but before he does, he and Yorkie join in with a game of football being played by some children. Unfortunately, a misjudged angle from Jim results in the Ahmed's window being broken and Mr Ahmed coming out to survey the damage. Jim is subjected to a 'hooligan' chant as he and Yorkie arrive back at the station.
Roy asks Yorkie if Terry Mitchell 'is queer' because the crime squad have asked him after seeing lots of young lads being in and out of his house. Yorkie says that he isn't gay as far as he's aware and that he keeps a sort of open house/youth club going unofficially from his place. Roy says it was just a chance observation but Yorkie says he was going to ask mounting a discreet obbo on Mitchell. Brownlow interrupts before he can ask officially, going with him, Jim and Robin to the new Neighbourhood Watch meeting.
Yorkie introduces Brownlow and Jim to the residents and explains that Robin is a Crime Prevention Officer who will speak to them about CCTV and chains and other things they can do to protect themselves and their property. As Charles starts a rather unsavoury group of residents enter, causing muttering amongst those gathered. A female resident claims the council should be present because the estate isn't fit for purpose with doors that don't keep draughts out and multiple month waiting lists for maintenance calls or empty the bins weekly as supposed to. Maisie explains to them that it's Neighbourhood Watch, not a council meeting. A couple who don't live on the estate accuses the police of wanting residents to tell tales on each other and to accuse all the crimes on people who aren't white. She claims it's a public meeting so she has a right to be there when challenged and that the police are immoral and that what they need is Citizens Patrol. One of the unsavory residents, a middle-aged skinhead claims that the country is sleepwalking into an AIDS pandemic. The room escalates into the residents shouting and rowing with each other. As they leave, Maisie warns Yorkie that a rent-a-mob from a racist group are coming for a 'party' the next day. She has heard claims that they're going to be terrorising the Ahmed family. As Charles starts to try and leave the Neighbourhood Watch group his car won't start. It appears his petrol has been siphoned.
Nick responds to a call with an extra to another burglary where only a video has been taken - again! A neighbour claims that it was a teen who came - and left - over the back fence.
The next morning Roy and Bob gossip about Charles' problem, claiming they'll get him a lockable petrol tank lid for his birthday. Bob then hands Roy a collection box to put on his desk. "What's it for?" "Battersea Dog's Home." Roy is not impressed😂
Reg goes out on patrol with Abe, complaining that Bob has his favourites who get the more favourable duties like being put on late shifts for a week. Abe points out that late turn are understaffed and busier as more people are awake or finishing work/school and then out for drinks or crimes happening under the cover of darkness so it makes sense to move the officers to where needed. "Not to me it doesn't!" Reg pouts. Thankfully they're interrupted by a call coming in about a burglary happening on an estate around the corner. Abe literally runs into the young lad who is carrying the stolen items. The young lad remains silent the entire time other than to say that he wants to 'talk to Tony only'. Bob tells him he can't as Yorkie is out and Reg moans that he's probably on his third coffee somewhere.
Yorkie asks Terry if he's heard anything from the kids who frequent his place about stealing videos. Terry insists that he's heard nothing and that whilst he wouldn't be surprised given some of the Artful Dodgers he has attending, it's the fault of the parents and the state of the homes they come from. He claims the point of his group is to show the kids that they don't have to be like that and he'd shop them if he caught them doing anything. Yorkie spots Terry has a new pool table and that his door is covered in several bolts, chains and locks.
Jim attends the Ahmed's and spots a little girl looking out the window at him. He tries to chat with her but she hurries away. Yorkie tells him that they won't open the door if Mr Ahmed isn't home. The skinhead from the meeting appears with his German Shepherd and he goes to meet his 'friends' who appear with placards and the Union Jack flag. They exchange a few words and then start marching towards the house, chanting a racist rhyme. Mr Ahmed is seen returning from the shops and the group charges at him with Jim and Yorkie able to get him inside just in time. A van of officers from Sun Hill arrives to help Pete moaning from the off though he does redeem himself a tiny bit by asking if the racist skinhead has a licence for his dog and threatening to visit and check.
Pete loses goodwill from that back at the station, however, by claiming that those who complain about the 'p*kis' have a point. Jim practically audibly rolls his eyes. "They're Bengali. They're not from Pakistan." Pete then claims those complaining are not all thugs and that some of them waited three years for a council flat only for it to be given to an immigrant who just arrived. Jim points out how ridiculous Pete's arguments are and the men argue. When Abe interjects, Pete responds with a racial slur. Abe leaves the room and Pete continues his diatribe claiming that 'they' waltz into the country and jump the queue straight into a rent-free council flat and shout racial harassment as soon as it's pointed out that it's not fair. His sister and her husband have 'more points than Steve Davis and they still can't get a place!' Pete claims he's having to spend half his job running round and wet nursing 'them' and that something is seriously wrong. Jim claims that he's in the wrong job and the two face off with Bob shouting at them to stop it. "Going to kiss and make up are we?" Bob asks. Jim hangs his head and sighs before sitting down slowly. Bob warns them that if he sees it again they'll end up like the last 2 blokes who had a ruck in the canteen and were fined £20 each.
Yorkie talks to the young lad Abe and Reg brought in and takes him upstairs to get something to eat before he takes him home. He tells him that Terry Mitchell will also be disappointed in him and the young lad scoffs. "I'm glad you find it funny, Terry Mitchell's done a lot for you and your mates!" As they pass Bob, Yorkie asks if the Ahmed's can have a guard, especially whilst the mob are still around. Bob says they can have Taffy to the end of his shift and then they'll have to 'get on with it like everyone else.' Yorkie can't name a specific threat against them so Bob can't offer protection unless one comes in.
With Yorkie distracted the boy does a runner. Yorkie and Jim grab their hats and head out after him, telling Roy that he's likely going to be hurrying to Terry Mitchell's. Roy takes them to the estate where Yorkie and Jim stop him from continuing and bring him back to Roy's car. "Looks like a touch of the Fagin's. Pays better than a paper round does it son?" Roy asks before sending Mike to keep an eye out for any kids going to/fro with illicit proceeds. After a quick meeting back at the station and a warrant being obtained, Roy and the others arrive at Terry Mitchell's flat to search for stolen property whilst Jim and Yorkie head with Masie to a police surgery on the estate.
Jim and Yorkie note that the estate is quiet outside the Ahmeds so Jim breaks away to go chat to them on his own, hoping that one officer would make them more likely to open up. At the surgery a West Indian gentleman claims he doesn't mind their cooking, religion, clothes, colour or that they're not British. What he does mind is the trouble they cause. Except they're not - it's the others causing trouble by harassing and attacking them! "It's bad enough walking past their door and seeing that filth every day and hearing the kids shouting at them but what happened this morning [the riot] is bad and real trouble. Me and the wife. We don't want no trouble but we live in the same block and we're going to get it." He says, worrying that they're the next targets of the racists.
At Terry Mitchell's, the police find nothing of note until they try to open the bathroom door. Terry claims someone is using the toilet and Roy orders them to wash their hands and come out. The door slowly opens and reveals several young boys with a bath full of stolen electrical equipment. "Now I can see why you don't take a bath." Mitchell claims that he was only looking after it.
Jim is let in by Mr Ahmed and his family gathers nervously behind him. Mr Ahmed speaks to his family in Bengalese before looking to Jim to explain his wife's concern. "... Will tea bag be alright?" Jim apologises for breaking the window with the football and promises that he will try and help them feel that Sun Hill is better than the last place. He wants them to trust the police and let him help them. Mr Ahmed tells Jim he is grateful. Jim explains that they have a police surgery once a month to iron out problems and Mr Ahmed attends with Jim, wanting to get to know his neighbours. A little while later, one of his children breaks in and drags him back with her. "What's happened?" Yorkie asks. "FIRE!" shouts Mr Ahmed, running back with them. The Ahmed's house is well alight by the time they arrive with flames belching out of the windows and door.
CID make their way over with Tom Penny telling them that it's likely they'll need to take body bags with them. At the scene, there's 3 injured women, one critical. Uniform and the caretaker evacuate the block. Mr Ahmed is deep in shock and is comforted by his neighbours. Jim stands with the Ahmed's children and another neighbour approaches him saying she'll take them to look after.
The next morning, Bob asks Yorkie to try and comfort Jim as he's wobbly after the night before. The fire investigators comb over the house and find that it was a petrol bomb in a wine bottle that started the fire. The lady who was critical is going to live. Just. She's covered in burns and in serious amounts of pain.
Pete complains about early morning house-to-house calls and the old women without their teeth and stains down their dressing gowns answering the doors as it turns his stomach. Jim can barely stand to hear Pete continuing as though nothing has happened, turning and walking out of the canteen.
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specialagentlokitty · 2 years
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Sherlock x reader - enchanted
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Sherlock x reader fic where the reader is an English literature student or has studied English literature and falls for her hyper rational detective room mate, Sherlock also seems to be enchanted by her ? - Anon💜
You were sat in the cafe trying to focus on your paper. You had a few more weeks to do it, but you had a lot to try get into it and you needed all the time you could get.
Taking a sip from your cup, you pushed your laptop away and took a small deep breath.
“Break time?”
You looked over at the cafe owner and smiled a little, giving a small nod of your head.
“Yeah, gotta keep it balanced you know?”
“Don’t I know it. You hungry or anything kid?” He smiled.
“Uhm… yeah actually, can I have a sandwich?”
“Your favourite?”
You beamed brightly and nodded happily and he laughed as well, heading back behind the counter to start making you something to eat.
The door chimed, and you flicked your gaze to it, watching as the new customer entered.
Much to your shock it was Sherlock, you weren’t sure why he was out this way, the cafe was no where near the flats, it’s why you came this far.
He walked over and took a seat in front of you, looking between you, your cup, and then your laptop.
“Paper?” Hr asked.
“Yeah it’s due at the the end of next week.” You nodded.
He hummed, turning your laptop around as he started to read it.
You couldn’t help but smile, you liked the detective. Yes, he was older than you, and he was definitely different to the other people you had met.
But that’s what you liked about him.
When you moved in last year, you weren’t expecting to get to know him or John.
Mrs Hudson was a family friend, and she offered to let you stay in the group floor flat as long as you were willing to pay some rent and help her when she needed it.
And you happily agreed.
It’s how you bumped into the duo, you were bringing your stuff in and John had offered to help while Sherlock was too busy rattling things off about you.
You weren’t creeped out, you were intrigued so you started to spend more time with them.
“Your sandwich kid.”
“Thanks Ronny.”
He beamed and set a cup of tea down for Sherlock before he left once more.
You turned back to the detective in front of you.
“So?” You asked.
“Why are you writing this?” He asked back.
You laughed and took your laptop back, pulling up a different page before sliding it back over to him.
“It’s part of my course. This is what I need to write about, it tells me what I have to include and do.”
Sherlock quickly read the page and nodded his head.
“I see, why English literature?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always liked it, there’s something so calm and beautiful about it. I decided I wanted to do it in university so I could pursue it even more.”
You nibbled away at your food while Sherlock carried on scrolling through your laptop.
“I have case, are you coming?” He asked.
“Is that why you came all the way out here?”
“Yes. Coming or not?”
You looked at Sherlock then back to your laptop before giving a heavy sigh.
“Sorry Sherlock, I’ve really got to work on my paper. Maybe next time?”
“Alright then.”
With that, Sherlock got up and left and you carried on with your paper.
You stayed until for ages, and when it came to closing time your waited for the cafe manager to lock up before smiling at him.
“See you later!” You waved.
“See ya kid!”
You started to walking home, humming to yourself as you did.
It was quiet, and you loved wondering the streets when it was quiet.
“It’s late.”
You jumped, spinning around to glare at the man behind you.
“Jesus Christ Sherlock.” You hissed.
Walking over, you slapped him on the chest and you started to walk with him.
“It is late, why are you wondering?” You asked.
“Came to get you.”
“Aw, we’re you worried?” You teased.
He stayed quiet and you stopped, which made him stop as well.
“Sherlock?” You asked.
Sherlock walked over, taking your bag from your back and swung it on to his back.
“Yes.”
With that, he started to walk again, and a huge smile spread across your face as you ran to catch up with him, happily walking alongside him.
You flicked your gaze up to him before looking back in front of you.
“Sherlock?”
“Hm?”
You playfully nudged his side.
“I worry about you too.”
With that, you ran ahead to get into the flat to speak to John before he went to sleep and Sherlock smiled slightly as he watched you
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