#double six packed up on a thursday afternoon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spaceoddball1969 · 1 year

Text

Teach Me - Part 2 (18+)

Hey there all! It has been a minute and I apologize. I had a really fucked up end of my semester and did not have the brain capacity to work on this fic. I will be trying to update this a bit more often from now on but honestly no promises. Also happy holidays! Whatever you celebrate this time of year, I hope you have had a good holiday season and enjoy this little gift of mine to you! Also

PLOT SUMMARY: The reader and Eddie begin to develop their relationship. The reader has a choir concert coming up with her students and Eddie might just feel the need to go to it??? Also like some seriously sexy things may or may not happen in this chapter. They most definitely are going to happen so if you’re under 18 you gotta get the heck out of here. Sorry, but please leave. This is going to be fluffy and smutty and just sappy because damn after the shit I experienced these last few weeks I really need something sappy to restore my faith in humanity. Also please excuse any typos - it’s late.

WARNINGS: Smut, penetrative sex, nipple play, aftercare, fluff, making out. 18+

It had been three weeks since I had stayed at Eddie’s after the Hellfire Club meeting. We had been casually seeing each other in that time, but it had mostly been quick coffees or rushed lunches during my break at the school. My work was keeping me busy as we were getting ready for our first choir concert at the high school. It was a musical theater cabaret show and I eager to show off how talented my students were to the school community. I was honestly doing fine in terms of anxiety until I was having lunch with Eddie in my office one day and he happened to notice the promotional poster I had made for the concert sitting on my desk.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.

“The poster for the choir concert next week,” I said, shoveling a bite of my sandwich into my mouth.

“You have a choir concert next week?” he asked, setting the poster down.

“Yeah, it’s Thursday,” I said.

“And you didn’t tell me about it?” Eddie asked, picking at the chips in the bag he had bought from the vending machine.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come,” I said. “It’s just a high school choir concert,”

“But it’s your high school choir concert,” Eddie said, crunching on a chip.

“You really want to come?” I asked, feeling the heat creep into my cheeks.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Besides, isn’t Henderson in your choir?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“So I’ll come support him. But really, I’d love to see you up there directing those little knuckleheads,” Eddie smirked.

“Ok,” I said, “it’s at seven next Thursday,”

“I’ll be there,” he said.

That was when the real anxiety set in. Even though I knew Eddie didn’t know the first thing about choral conducting, I still felt self conscious about being up there on stage for him to observe for an entire concert. I spent all of Thursday afternoon after school running through the set in my head, practicing the conducting patterns to myself, and working on the piano accompaniment for the student’s solo performances. I spent far too much time re-thinking through my outfit. I knew that I would not have the time to go to my apartment to change between when school ended and when I needed to be back for the concert, so I had packed my concert clothes that morning. I had decided on a black turtle neck with a black pencil skirt and patent leather heals with sheer black tights. I hoped it would look ok but now I was not so certain.

Once I had finished my planning for my other classes, I double checked the stage to make sure all of our equipment was in the right place and then I went to hide in my office until the students showed up.

They arrived at six and we walked through some of the staging and then I led them through vocal warm-ups. Once we were finished, I set them loose to get water and go to the bathroom before they got in their places on stage. As I stood from the piano, Dustin Henderson approached me with a wild grin on his face. He looked sharp, dressed in all black with a green bow tie. The kid was very quickly becoming my favorite student.

“Eddie’s gonna come tonight,” he said to me with a toothy grin. “Did he tell you?’

“Yeah,” I said. “He let me know last week that he’d be here tonight,”

“He wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Dustin said. “I think he was really excited about it,”

“That’s sweet,” I said. “I’m glad he’s excited,”

Despite having spent time outside of school with Dustin I still did not totally know how I should be interacting with him. He was one of my best students and I definitely favored him, but I couldn’t let the others know that. I also wasn’t too keen to be discussing my love life with a seventeen year old boy.

“Ok, go get some water and get in place,” I said. “I’ll see you out there,”

Dustin nodded and then strode off to get settled for the concert. I gathered my music folder from my office and then followed my students out to the auditorium. Just as I was about to step through the doorway to the backstage area of the auditorium, I saw a tall figure rushing down the hallway. I turned to get a better look at who it was and saw Eddie Munson wearing dark blue jeans and a worn out red button down. He looked flustered but he froze when he saw me standing there.

“Wow,” he said. “You look incredible,”

“I have to go conduct a concert,” I said, awkwardly.

“I better go find a seat,” he said.

I watched him rush into the auditorium before I stepped backstage. My students were already in their places for their first song on the risers. I took one long look at them before stepping on stage and I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with how much I loved them.

The concert went off without a hitch. The ensemble numbers sounded better than I had ever heard them. The soloists ate it up as their friends and families cheered them on. By the end of the show I felt like I was floating on air.

I let the students and the audience clear out first and then I followed them into the choir room. My students and I started cheering in excitement. A few of them even hugged me and I couldn’t help but squeeze them back. After a few minutes of congratulations, I retreated to my office to collect my things and to have a minute to myself. Most of the students had cleared out once they had gathered their things. There was only one or two stragglers.

“Eddie’s out there,” I heard a voice call into my office. I looked up and saw Dustin standing in my doorway. “I already saw him, he said he was going to wait out there for you,”

“Send him in when you step out,” I said.

“Will do,” Dustin said, saluting me.

As the last few students left, Eddie stepped into the choir room. He peaked his head into my office with a wicked grin on his face.

“Ok so you’re awesome yeah?” he said as he stepped into my office.

“It’s the students,” I said. “They did so well tonight.”

“Yeah but they’re only able to do so well because of what you teach them,” he said, stepping closer to me. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and pulled me against him. “Seriously, you’re amazing,”

“Thank you,” I smiled.

Eddie returned my smile and dipped his head lower to press a soft kiss to my lips. We hadn’t been very physical since our first night together and it took everything in me not to completely lose myself in this kiss.

“Wanna go out and celebrate?” he asked.

“Oh, I’d love to but I am so drained,” I said, resting my forehead on his chest.

“Then let’s go back to my place,” he said. “We can have a drink, you could stay over if you want.”

“I guess I could do that,” I said. “Yeah that sounds great. Can we get food or something though? I didn’t eat dinner and I am starving,”

“I will get you anything that you want,” Eddie smiled.

“Pizza?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” Eddie said, pressing another kiss to my lips.

“Let’s go,” I said.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eddie gave me his key to the store so I could let myself in while he got the pizza for us. I wandered up to his apartment and set my things down before I made my way back down to the store. I awkwardly looked around the store as I waited for Eddie to get back. I had just started looking through a stack of used vinyls behind the counter when I heard the bell go off and saw Eddie walking through the door.

“Food has arrived,” Eddie smiled as he locked the door behind him. “You can bring some of those upstairs if you want to. I’ve been meaning to give them a listen to make sure they aren’t too beat up to sell,”

I picked out a couple records and followed Eddie up the stairs to his apartment. While Eddie got out plates for our pizza and beer for each of us, I sorted through the stack of albums I had brought up. At the bottom of the stack there was a record I had not realized I had picked up. It was a greatest hits collection of Elvis Presley tunes. I smiled happily at the record and hoped to God that it wasn’t too scratched up by its previous owner.

When the lyrics of “Heartbreak Hotel” popped out of the speaker, I heard Eddie call my name from the kitchen.

“Did you really just put on Elvis?” he asked.

“Yes?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Eddie said, handing me a plate. “I just didn’t expect it,”

“I was raised on Elvis,” I said. “My dad loves him,”

“Yeah my mom was a big fan,” Eddie said, leading me to the living room. “God, I haven’t listened to his music in ages,”

“I didn’t realize I had grabbed the record from downstairs,” I said. “It was in the bottom of the stack,”

“Well, I’m glad you grabbed it,” Eddie said as he sat down.

I sat down with him and within seconds was devouring my pizza. I relished in the taste of the food. I also was very much enjoying the heat that I could feel radiating off of Eddie next to me. He looked remarkably handsome in his black jeans and red button down. His hair was absolutely wild tonight and there seemed to be a gleam to his eye.

I was content to sit and talk and eat pizza and listen to Elvis for the rest of the night, but then a particular song came on the speaker. The opening horns of “Trouble” blared through the room and Eddie jumped up from the couch. He immediately launched into a full on performance of the song. I couldn’t help but laugh as Eddie tossed himself around the room, using his beer bottle as a microphone. By the second verse, Eddie was pulling me up by my hands and dragging me into his performance. He held me close as I laughed at his silliness.

But then that gleam reappeared in Eddie’s eyes and I felt my heart start to beat faster. I let Eddie pull me tight against him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His eyes were locked on mine as he pressed a firm kiss to my lips. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, holding close to him as he deepened the kiss. I was getting lost in it just as the beat picked up in the song.

The change in the music shocked me and I jumped away from Eddie. We both stared at each other for a moment and then I started collecting our empty plates.

“We better get these cleaned up,” I said and rushed into the kitchen.

By the time I had the plug in the sink and the soap bubbling up, the next song on the record had started playing.

I heard him before I felt him. Soft footsteps approached me and then I felt one of his arms gently wrap around my waist from behind me. He used his other hand to brush the hair away from my neck and then placed a soft kiss agaisnt my sensitive skin.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry if that was too much,”

I sighed and rested my hand over his on my waist. “It’s ok,” I said. “I didn’t mean to run away. I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to be with you. I just don’t want to rush into anything and I don’t always feel like I am in control of myself when I’m with you,”

“Would that be so bad?” Eddie asked, kissing my neck again. “Would it be all that bad if you let yourself go a little?”

“The last time I did that I got screwed over,” I said. “I let him have every part of me and he left without even looking back,”

“Can you turn around?” Eddie asked. I did as I was asked. Eddie stroked both sides of my face gently with his hands and then rested them on either side of me on the counter so that I was caged within his arms. “I’m not going to do that to you,”

“How can you possibly know that?” I asked.

“Because I would have to be crazy to even think about leaving you,” Eddie said. “I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but I feel a real connection with you. And I want to work on it. I want to build it. I want you to trust me,”

“I do trust you,” I said.

“Ok,” Eddie said. And then he looked back at the record player in the living room.”Don’t” had started playing. “Then dance with me,”

“What?” I asked.

“Dance with me,” Eddie repeated. “Come here,”

I let Eddie intertwine our fingers and wrap an arm around my waist. He pulled me away from the counter and we began to sway around the kitchen.

“I know you don’t believe me when I say that I’m not going to hurt you,” Eddie said, “but I really mean it. I’m sorry that your last boyfriend ran off, but I’m not going to do that. I’m here to stay and you’re going to have to live with that,”

I looked up at Eddie and locked my eyes on his. He didn’t look away. He didn’t even think about it. I felt a sensation that I couldn’t explain taking over me. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry, maybe both. All I knew was I was standing in the arms of an incredible man who was telling me everything that I needed to hear. And better yet, I believed him.

I pushed myself up onto my tip toes and pressed my lips to Eddie’s, letting myself get caught up in the feeling of our connection. He pulled me against him and kissed me over and over. I couldn’t stop kissing him back. It was an overwhelming feeling that I didn’t want to let go of.

I heard the record stop playing and figured me we must be at the end of the first side. Eddie pulled away from me and hurried off to take the record off the stereo.

“So, uh,” Eddie stumbled. “Uh, that was really nice,”

“Yeah it was,” I said, feeling the heat creep into my cheeks.

He looked down at the floor for a moment and fiddled with his hair.

“Eddie?” I asked.

“Yeah?” he said, lifting his head up.

“Would you please come back over here?” I asked.

Eddie smiled and within seconds I was back in his arms. He began to kiss me again, wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up just a few inches off the floor. I giggled and held on tightly to him. “Can we take this out of the kitchen?” I asked.

“Uh yeah,” Eddie said and then started to stutter. “Where were you thinking?”

“Well the best option would probably be your room,” I said.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Eddie said. He let me go and then wrapped his hand around mine. “Let’s go,”

Eddie led me to his room and then closed the door behind us. He left the light off and approached me slowly in the dim light. Eddie’s hands snaked around my waist again as he began to kiss my neck. I couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of his lips against my skin.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nearly moaned.

Eddie’s hands squeezed my hips as he kissed my neck over and over again. He kept fidgeting with my turtle neck, trying to find a way for his lips to reach my skin.

“Eddie,” I said. “You can take it off,”

“Hmm?” he asked, busying with his work.

“Take off my shirt,” I said.

Eddie’s head lifted and his eyes met mine. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

Eddie nodded and then gripped the hem of my shirt. He lifted it over my head, exposing my black bra. Eddie tossed my shirt on the floor and turned back to look at me. I saw his mouth go a little slack and he let out a short breath.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a soft smile and then paused. “Can I - is it ok if - I mean - can I touch you?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling slightly at his cautiousness. “I didn’t think you’d be so polite,” I added with a giggle.

“I want you to be comfortable,” Eddie said, lifting his eyes to mine. “I want you to feel safe. And we don’t have to do everything tonight if you don’t want,”

“Let’s start here and I’ll let you know if I want to stop,” I said.

Eddie nodded slowly and then rested his hands on my waist. Eddie pressed a kiss to my lips and then began kissing all over my face. He moved down to my jaw line and then my neck. Now that it was exposed, he didn’t hold anything back. I moaned as he trailed kisses over my throat and nipped at the soft skin. Eddie’s hands started to travel upward over my torso. I felt a chill run up my spine as his rough skin brushed against mine.

“Is this ok?” Eddie asked against my neck. His hands started creeping closer to my breasts.

“Yes,” I said, pulling him closer. “Don’t stop, Eddie,”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Eddie held me by my waist with one hand while the other slipped over the silky fabric of my bra. I gasped at the feeling. He gently squeezed my chest as his lips returned to mine.

I wanted to feel Eddie in the same ways that he was feeling me. I could hardly think about what I was doing before my hands were reaching forward to unbutton the front of his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. I let my hands run over his skin, feeling every groove and crevice of his torso. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed our bodies together, aching to feel his skin on mine. When our bare torsos met I almost drowned in the feeling.

“Eddie,” I said. “I want more,”

“What?” he asked, pulling away.

I clung to him, scared that he would pull away entirely. “I want more,” I said again. “I want you. All of you,”

Eddie looked me in the eye for a moment, trying to get a read on what I was thinking. I didn’t dare to break his glance. He leaned forward and kissed me slowly and deeply. I felt a rush of heat pulse through my body. It was most apparent in my core and slowly was creeping between my legs.

Eddie began to push us towards the bed. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled me closer until I stood between his legs. He eventually broke away from our kiss and began to kiss down my torso until he reached the hem of my skirt. His fingers fiddled with the zipper on the side.

“Can I?” he asked and I nodded. Eddie slowly unzipped the skirt and pulled it down my legs. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of my tights and pulled them down until I could step out of them.

I felt cold suddenly and quite bare standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear. Eddie’s hands found their place on my waist again and he pulled me closer until I had to climb into his lap. I straddled him, holding onto his shoulders for balance. Eddie began to kiss me again and I soon found myself lost in the feeling again. Swiftly and gently he flipped us over so that I was lying on my back on the bed and he was hovering over my body.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said between kisses.

“I want to see more of you,” I said kissing him desperately.

“Whoa we’re bold now,” Eddie chuckled.

“Hey it’s only fair,” I said. “I’m over here in my underwear and you still have a whole pair of pants on,”

“I guess that makes sense,” Eddie said with a smile. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“No, I’d rather watch you do it,” I said with a smirk.

Eddie grinned and kissed me one more time before he stood up. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and watched as he unbuckled his belt and undid the zipper on his jeans. I felt a new rush of heat between my thighs when he pulled his pants down to his ankles. He was truly beautiful and I didn’t know how to handle it.

“Like what you see?” Eddie asked shyly.

“Yeah,” I said, crawling towards the edge of the bed. I sat up on my knees and reached out for him. “Come here,” I said as he stepped closer to me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him over and over. Eddie’s hands traveled down my torso to my hips. I felt his hands glide over my ass and then grip the backs of my thighs. Suddenly he pulled against them, sending me flying back on the bed. I shrieked with the sudden movement but then Eddie was over me again, holding me still.

“Sorry,” Eddie giggled. “Didn’t mean to scare you,”

“It’s ok,” I said, giggling with him. “Just come here,”

We were wrapped in each other’s arms for longer than I could comprehend. It kept getting better by the moment and I never wanted it to end. Eddie finally reached behind me and unhooked my bra. It was tossed to the floor and Eddie quickly attached his mouth to one of my nipples. I moaned at the sensation. Eddie looked up at me as my moans got louder.

“God,” Eddie said. “Please don’t ever stop making those sounds,”

I giggled at his remark but when I felt his teeth graze the skin of my nipple, my giggle became a moan once more. “Oh God, Eddie,” I said, burrying my hands into his hair. “That’s so good,” I said.

“Yeah?” he asked. “You like that?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Don’t stop,”

“Anything for you,” he said.

I felt a pulse strengthening between my legs. With Eddie slotted between my thighs, I started to grind up against him. I gasped when I felt his hard-on through his boxers. My hands slid down my his sides until I was grasping at his hips. I pulled at his body, desperately trying to bring him closer to me. Eddie started to groan as our bodies started to rub against each other in just the right way.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that,” Eddie groaned as he kissed my throat.

“I want you, Eddie,” I said. “I need you,”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I’d lose my mind if we stopped now,”

Eddie chuckled and kissed me quickly on the mouth before climbing off the bed. He searched through his dresser drawer and pulled out a box of condoms. I felt my heart rate pick up slightly as I watched him take out one of the condoms and tear open the package. Eddie slipped his boxers off and if I thought his body was beautiful before, it was perfect now. He rolled the condom on and then walked over to the bed. It was hard not to stare at his body as Eddie leaned over me. I felt his fingers slip under the waistband of my panties and then they were off and discarded on the floor.

Eddie climbed back over me and began kissing me gently. I let my hands explore his body and I began to pull him closer to me again. “Eddie,” I said. “I’m ready. I want this. Just go slow,”

“Ok,” Eddie said with one final kiss.

He reached down to line himself with my entrance. Anticipation filled my entire body and then he was pushing into me. I gasped at the feeling and my body quickly began adjusting itself to his size. Eddie and I both groaned as he bottomed out inside of me.

“Oh my God,” Eddie moaned in the most filthy tone I had ever heard. “Are you ok?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “It feels incredible,”

“Yeah, it does,” Eddie said.

He slowly started to pump in and out of me, eliciting even more pornographic moans from the both of us. It had never felt like this before. I had never experienced anything like this. For a moment I wondered if this is what it always should have felt like and I had just been missing out for most of my adult life.

“More, Eddie,” I gasped. “Go harder,”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I want it,”

He didn’t hesitate. Eddie started to pick up his pace and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. Eddie seemed close as well. I held onto him and pushed myself up to meet his motions. Eddie’s arms faultered just slightly over me, pressing his chest against mine.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” Eddie said.

“Cum for me,” I said. “Please, cum for me, Eddie,”

“Only if you cum too,” Eddie groaned.

His words sent me over the edge. I nearly screamed as my orgasm tore through me. As my body spasmed beneath him, Eddie let out one final moan and his body began to shudder. He collapsed over me and I clung onto him. We held each other for what felt like an eternity. As we both caught our breath, Eddie began kissing every inch of my body. He finally made it back up to my lips and then brushed the hair out of my face.

“That was amazing,” Eddie said.

I smiled and kissed him. “That was amazing,” I repeated.

“Come on,” Eddie said. “I’ll clean you up,”

He picked me up from the bed and then took me to the bathroom. He pealed the condom off his body once he had set me down and tossed it in the trash. Then he turned the sink faucet on and ran a wash cloth under the warm water. He cleaned himself off and once the cloth was rinsed, he walked over to me. Eddie knelt in front of me and kissed my thighs. He ran the cloth over my skin and washed away any lube left on my skin from the condom.

Once we were both clean, I pulled on one of his old T-shirts and my earlier discarded panties and crawled into bed. Eddie crawled in beside me and pulled me close. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips then rested his head on the pillow. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Eddie whispered.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” I said contentedly.

I fell asleep quickly and slept better than I had in a long, long time.

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Female reader #Joseph Quinn #Stranger Things #Teach Me Part 2 #I know it's late #I'm sorry

109 notes · View notes

writingcold · 2 years

Text

Neapolitan Pt. 6

A/N: Pt. 6 - 18+ only - minors, you need to step away from this now.

*Whew*, this marks the halfway point! Thank you for hanging in there for this smut-fest. If you’ve not read the first five parts, please find the master list for the brick HERE.

It goes without saying at this point in this ridiculous story, but: I do not know any of the gentlemen of GVF. This is a piece of fiction, through and through. Jake is just my blueprint to a very interesting character to me. A muse if you will.

Content Warnings: Alcohol use, partying, adulting, Jake soft dom, fem sub, binding, unprotected sex, double penetration, oral fem/rec, blindfolding and gaging. Some pretty naughty, naughty things are happening here. Jake gets his strawberry.

Word Count: approx 7800 words, you know if you’re counting words, but not errors.

Pt. 6

The week was speeding by beyond her control. The guys were quiet, though Jake seemed to be present everyday. He had stayed not just Sunday night, but Monday night, too. He had browsed through her ‘toy box’ to see if there was something he wanted to use for his pending ‘strawberry’ Sunday. He sat on her deck while she was busy with work from the course. He said that he was going to have to have items delivered to her place as Sam has no boundaries and would tear open any box that arrived at their place. They laughed over what the younger sibling would ramble on about for days if he ever did discover their little games.

Wednesday brought Danny and Sam in for a drink and a nice visit before they had to return home. Apparently, Jake was on a tirade about some riff that none of them but him could seem to understand. Thursday was crazy. Friday found her drowned with a packed bar until closing time at four in the morning. Saturday, Jake had checked in on her in the early afternoon after she had not answered any of his two texts. He made her breakfast and helped her shower for the day. It did not hurt to be sent off with a mind blown from orgasms delivered from his hands. The night was marked insane, as the Hell-wrecker nearly made the wait staff quit in tears. Tony had to quell the drama that his wife had caused in the kitchen, while Violet was left to soothe the nerves of two teens who’s fragile egos were just too glass-like for the boss’ wife.

Four o’clock could not have arrived fast enough. She finally got the last stragglers to leave and she barely had the strength to put the stools onto the tops of the tables. The night had been intense, but at least it was fast. Getting home, she had a cup of tea, a couple pieces of toast and slid into her bed with the full intent of being rested and ready for Jake’s strawberry Sunday.

She had set her alarm for two, though she was awake before one. Her brain would not allow her to settle back down. Instead of fighting she decided to get up, have breakfast and settle into getting the house cleaned up for the week and yard work. Unlike the previous Sunday, the guys were not going to be joining them for dinner. Jake promised that he would cook just for the two of them and they would just take the whole evening to settle in together.

Violet had a feeling that whatever he had planned, it was going to be sensual beyond anything that she had ever experienced. It made her move through her day, each look at the clock only adding to the excitement and anticipation of what the night would bring. He texted at four saying that he was looking forward to seeing her soon. He sent a picture of wildflowers from behind their place.

She climbed into a shower at just after five, using the body wash that had notes of strawberry and thyme. She took time to do her hair and makeup and picked a gauzy sundress that hit just below her knees, and the soft gray looked good against her skin. At six fifteen, Jake was at her door with an apologetic grin, a couple of bottles of wine and an armful of bags. She had left his packages that he had delivered unopened and waiting for him in the living room. He looked brilliant, wearing a black, short sleeved button up, with only two buttons buttoned, with jeans and boots. His smile glowed as he poured her a glass of wine and pointed her towards one of the high stools at the kitchen island.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he started setting out veggies to cut.

Violet leaned back, a whisper of a smile dancing across her mouth. “Why thank you, but I’m sure I’m never as pretty as you, Jake.”

He huffed dramatically. “Well of course not.”

She watched as he moved around the kitchen. The steaks were on one counter, seasoned and resting. The simple wooden bowl he found to toss salad was behind him. He had set into chopping what looked like veggies from the farmers market.

“You must’ve found Holly’s, huh?” she asked, just trying to make small talk.

“No, I was here stealing everything I could from your garden while you were sleeping,” he said, shrugging as a blush crept across his face.

“Really?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I was so tempted to see if I could break in, but thought the better of it. I could just picture the headline - ‘Guitarist killed by flying dildo as woman protects herself’.”

She laughed, liking the way the top of his cheeks flustered when he giggled. He wiped his hands on a towel before turning away for a moment. Violet felt the night’s anticipation thicken further. This man was nurturing. This man was sensual. She felt the flutter in her stomach as she thought about how he would dominate her. Would it be degradation, or would it be praise. Would it be begging for touch or would it be prolonged stimulation. Would he be soft, brutal… unforgiving. She had kept her first go simple, but effective for what she needed.

“I’m going to go start the grill,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She grinned. She knew from the sparkle in his eye that he could read it on her that she was thinking about him and his scene. She watched as he opened the umbrella over the table and got himself set up. Jake had a spirit that moved her. He was not as simple as he made himself out to be on his exterior. He carefully crafted what he would show in different scenarios - public, private, even with his family. It was part of his control.

“Hey, if you’re going to reside in that brain of yours,” Jake remarked as he moved back into the kitchen, “I’m going to make you be naked the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

She grinned as she filled her lungs. The edge in his voice was enough to let her know he was serious. Reaching for her wine, she put her thoughts aside. He was finishing up creating a dressing for the salad before setting it to the side. Violet settled into collecting plates and silverware to set the table. A breeze had come up, making it just right for an outside meal. She stepped out to the deck to find that he had his phone out and soft music playing. He moved in behind her, tray in his hands, intent on the grill.

“I plan on plating, so those need to be returned inside,” he said with a nod.

Polite Jake was evaporating. Perhaps it was a clue. Perhaps not. She took the dinner plates back inside. When she returned, she carried the wine and their glasses. When she held his drink out to him, he smiled and pointed to where he wanted it. Interesting. It made her think back over the last thirty minutes. He had not kissed her when he arrived. He had not come close enough for her to touch him either. Hmm. Was it his way of arriving at the mindset he needed for his scene?

“I will not say this again, Violet,” he whispered, a hard edge to his tone, as he set the first steak down with a sizzle. “Be present.”

“Yes, Jacob,” she whispered back, sitting down, eyes cast down so as not to look at him. The sigh of a laugh touched her ears at the sight of her submission.

His scene had already started and she had not even been fucking privy to it. She drew in another breath to calm herself and stomp down the tension that was coiling already in her belly. He started talking about the pending week. How they were making good progress on their writing, and were even setting some pieces to tracks. He told her that he may be out with Danny Wednesday, asking if she was going to be at work. He continued with the one sided conversation, and Violet participated with as few words as possible, polite nods, and soft smiles.

Jake held his hand up to her to stay when he carried the steaks back into the house. Violet let her spine bend and folded into herself for a moment. Her thoughts raced. He had dropped very subtle hints, but no outright words. He wanted her to discover that his scene was already in play. It blew her mind just trying to grasp where he was going to take her.

The soft click of the door made her instantly straighten, hands in lap, face calm. She reached for her wine, glancing up at him when he set down a plate in his spot first, followed by hers. The smell was amazing, though she had watched him create the simple meal. He sat down as she made eye contact over the rim of her glass.

They continued to make small talk. He asked her about what she was going to expect out of her week, edging away from anything funny or would elicit a laugh from herself.

“And the next week,” he started, not as a question. “That week is going to be different.”

She nodded. “Friends visiting that week.”

“You are taking a full week off both jobs?”

She nodded as she sliced a bite of meat. “Ten days off.”

“How many days are your friends here?”

Her stomach twisted at the way his voice remained so rigid. “Five. Five days.”

“Would you deny me if I wanted to fuck you each one of those days.”

“No,” she whispered as her hands couldn’t hold the silverware any more; they were shaking so badly over the prospect.

She raised her eyes to look at him only to find that he stared at her, plate pushed forward, elbows on table and mouth in a fine line. Violet could not read if he was angry or upset or even happy with her. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to ask her more, but instead, he stood and stepped away from the table with his meal only half eaten.

“Violet. I am going to go upstairs to prepare. I want you to put away our food and clean up the kitchen. Use the downstairs bathroom to prepare yourself. Leave your clothes behind. I will call for you when I am ready.”

“Yes, Jacob.”

Her heart thundered in her chest as he moved away from her. The silence that enveloped her felt raw with what was to come. In her mind, she was listing off what they had spoken of two weeks prior - he did not hit beyond a spank. He knew she could not do breath play. She knew that sensory play was on his list of interests, along with toys and… binding. Her eyes rolled back in her head at the thought of being laid out for him. Or, was he going to surprise her with …

“Fucking move, bitch,” she said to herself, grabbing hold of the plates and heading inside.

Jake had cleaned as he cooked, so there was not much to do. Violet moved around the kitchen, finishing her wine, as well as his before putting everything into the dishwasher. She tucked their leftovers into the fridge as her last task and moved around the house, locking up the doors before she took a moment to look up the stairs. She settled into preparing - taking off her clothes, freshening up, making sure her makeup was still in place. She looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She could do this. This man was going to control her and it was something inside that pleaded with her to feed. It was her chance. She would not allow him to enter this equation as it had for too long.

Instead of allowing her mind to dwell, she moved out of the bathroom returning to the kitchen. Getting out a lowball glass, she took a half shot of whiskey down to steady herself. The air against her skin felt cool, almost comforting. It was almost forty five minutes that Jake had retreated upstairs. She was just starting to worry when she heard the bedroom door open and his footfalls on the floor.

“I am ready, Violet,” he called out, his voice smooth.

She walked to the bottom of the stairs and started towards him. He had not waited for her in the hall, but rather had stepped back into the room to wait for her. When she stepped in, she found tethers on one side of the bed, candles lit on the windowsill and nightstands. He had taken a TV tray from the living room and had it parked by the foot of the bed with a variety of her vibrators and dildos arranged on it. Taking in the scene, her cunt coiled in excitement while her breath came in waves.

Jake stood behind her, hidden. “What is our word that will stop everything?”

“Napoleon,” she answered immediately.

“For tonight, you will be tied, so tapping out will not be easy. You will also be wearing this,” he started, stepping behind her and bringing his arms around her front. “It will not be tight, so you will still be able to talk - but only if you need to use our word. Do you understand?”

Her eyes landed on the ball gag that he held before her. “Yes,” she whispered.

He affixed the gag to her, making sure that it was not too tight for her to breathe or speak if needed.

“You will be tethered on one side and cuffed wrist to ankle on the other. The cuffs are break away, so if at any time you need, or you do not feel safe, you can break the cuffs. Nod if you understand.” She could feel his body move closer when she nodded. In a whisper against her ear, he said, “Violet, remember, no shame in telling me to stop. Never shame. Understand?”

Her heart clenched at the tenderness that he showed. Nodding once more, she felt him withdraw.

“You will also be blindfolded.”

Her brain backflipped. The excitement flooded every nerve, every cell of her body. She was pretty sure that she was shaking as a strip of satin ghosted over her shoulder before it covered her eyes, blocking out everything she knew to be in that room. For the first time that night, he touched her. His fingers slid down the length of her back to the swell of her ass, and over to her hip to guide her forward. He moved her to the bed, helping to her to get into place. She felt her breath quicken as he tied her right wrist, followed by her right ankle. He hummed as he walked to the other side of her.

“You look like you’re already wet,” he said smugly. “What a whore you are. Look at you. I’ve not touched that cunt yet and it’s screaming for me.”

He took her left ankle and hiked it up towards her bottom, then pulled it to the side, not so that it was uncomfortable, but spread her open. He took her hand gently with his other hand and pressed it to his mouth. She gasped as he sucked her fingers.

“Yeah, you so liked watching me suck cock, didn’t you, bitch,” he whispered, before biting the tip of her fingers and sucking them down again. “It leaves me to wonder if you dream of me doing a real cock? Huh, slut princess? Is that what you’ve been dreaming of?”

She bit down on the ball gag just for some traction against his words. She sucked in a gulp of breath at the image of him sucking cock - real cock, and it fried her brain to near breaking.

He kissed her fingertips before moving it down to her ankle. The snap of the cuffs made her jump.

“Hmmm, is that because you’re excited, that little jump? Figures, a bitch like you, Violet.” He traced her bent leg with a finger as he moved around to the foot of the bed. “Goddamn. You look so beautiful like this. Look at that pussy. It’s practically whimpering for me to touch it. Nod if you are doing fine, Violet.”

She nodded once. She listened to him move things around, bringing the excitement level up in her blood. He felt like he was so far away from her and it started to make her panic. Soft music started to play from the corner of her room. She focused on the pretty opening notes of classical music, finding it soothing. She heard him humming along. He had ticked the sensory play box with a fat marker as heavy as he could. The checklist in her mind smiled and laughed.

“You have the nicest tits, you know that?” he remarked, his voice closer to the top of the bed. She heard something but could not identify what he was doing. “I’m not sure what I like more - watching your tits bounce or your ass.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the classical music that she knew but couldn't quite place. He sat down on the side of her tethered limbs to let her know where he was. Suddenly, something so cold it burned dropped on her nipple. She sucked in a hard breath against the suddenness of the sensation. Again, the cold dropped directly on her nipple, followed this time by the flaming heat of his mouth. He bit into the breast tissue gently before moving away. He let loose a low sigh at her startled reaction. She felt her body quiver in anticipation over the next touch, but none came. She started counting slowly in her mind with the notes of the music. The notes began to pick up in pace and suddenly, his mouth came down on the other breast, this time, his tongue was freezing cold as he pushed an ice cube around the nipple. Something hard pinched her other nipple, not fingers. The pressure was too consistent. He sucked and pulled at her until the ice cube totally melted against her skin. Nipple clamps. Her brain registered what held her - fucking nipple clamp. The soft hum again as he flicked the clamp, drawing out a moan from her. He kissed her cleavage before placing a second clamp on her free nipple.

“Fuck, Violet. I think I’m going to blow myself with the way you look right now. Nod if you are okay.”

She nodded and was rewarded with another flick on the clamp. The sound that escaped her sent shivers through her pussy. His hand slid across her chest and paused as if he could feel how her heart knocked around in pure joy. He released a soft laugh before moving away from her.

“Tsk, tsk, sweet harlot,” he teased, his voice so far away once more. “All this excitement over this, and we’re just beginning. I’m flattered.”

She felt the vacuum of his absence again. Violet could feel him near, but though her skin screamed for him, he kept himself from her. She could not help how her breath started to pulse in her chest. She needed him in some fashion to touch, to speak, to fuck something just to settle her. The sound of him laughing quietly made her want to scream.

Finally, she felt his fingertips ghosting over the toes of her right foot, up her calf, run a loop around her knee until coasting lazily up her thigh. “I want you to know, Violet, that I plan on thoroughly fucking you tonight. In more ways than one. I plan on filling that pretty pussy and that asshole every chance I get. Does this sound pleasing to you, little whore? Nod if you agree.”

She nodded as a whine passed through her lips. His fingers swirled over the ridge of her hip bone and around her belly button. “Of course you would agree. Your body is so damn receptive to me. You respond to me so beautifully.”

His touch receded again, leaving her heaving and quivering and needy. She strained against the teethers searching for him. She could just hear the softest sighs as the bed dipped under his weight at the very foot of the bed. Her brain blanked as she knew he was between her legs, but how he maintained distance made her want to weep.

The bed bounced a bit as he seemed to be getting himself into position. The softest breath against the inside of her thigh made her shiver and cry out in joy. His hot fingers met the melting flesh of her cunt in a satisfying swipe. She could hear him hum in approval. One hand came down on her right thigh, holding it firmly as the thumb brushed the skin in a hard press.

He laid a chaste kiss to her pubic bone. He began to whisper touch before pressing his mouth to her, sucking her in in a hard pull that made her suck the ball gag in between her teeth. He sucked and lapped, trailing tiny kisses through her, each pass pushing her closer to orgasm. She began to feel her core tighten and coil as moved his tongue against her.

“Oh, my dear sweet pussy,” he whispered, “I’m in charge here, not you. Time to settle down a bit.”

Violet breathed in slowly, trying to bring herself back. It was going to be edging. She could do edging. She was a master of surviving this. Putting her mind into a quieter space, she focused on the notes that were so familiar. Where had she heard this music before… It was something that …

“That’s better,” he whispered before tugging her clit into his mouth between his teeth.

One finger, followed by two, curved within. The tongue began flicking, lapping. The full mouth engulfing and sucking. The pleasure crashed in on her. She stuttered against the gag. Nocturnes… They were listening to Nocturnes, but not Chopin. She focused on the slow rise and fall, like it was someone breathing beside her. She allowed the breath to carry her pleasure away like a tide, before crashing back in as he pressed a fingertip against her backdoor.

“Oooo,” he cooed, “I nearly got you there, little one. Is the slut trying to control you for me? She’s so brash, isn’t she? Nod if you’re okay, Violet.”

The sound of her name coming from Jake made her nearly slip her focus. He knew. He was going to push. She could push back. She nodded as she relegated her breath. He returned to his work and she began to think about composers. The man’s name was just beyond her thought process. Jake dropped a stream of lube against her, never stopping in his ministrations. The liquid was warmed, sending her into a spiral of bliss. She breathed hard against the ball. He kept two fingers in her while one pushed its way into her ass, gently probing, sinfully winding her core into a frenzy. He settled back into her clit sending her thoughts into a void that she could not collect for a long moment. Just as her body was about to launch itself forward and grasp that orgasm, Jake withdrew once more, a sultry laugh coming from him as he kissed the inside of her thigh.

“Oh, such focus, Violet,” he said, lifting himself up and shifting on the bed. “Are you liking the little game, my beautiful bitch?”

She nodded, teeth barred on the ball. The sound that was escaping her was desperate, though she was not ready to give in just yet. She tugged at the tether on her wrist in an effort to settle herself.

He clicked his tongue as he lay his head against her thigh. “I can be patient. I can also be precipitous. Just play along like a good little slut and we’ll be fine.”

Hmmm. The thought she just stumbled across made her want to giggle. The melody had just turned moody, right at the same time of his little shift. He was timing his scene to this music. Brilliant was beyond a word to describe her discovery of him and his mindset. The tone grew darker and his approach to her had darkened, his movements were harder. When the movement grew softer, his touch matched, as did his words. Her heart swelled with the revelation.

The knowledge allowed her to anticipate and bend to him the way he needed her to. At the next pause, she was calm, she was ready for whatever his next move would be.

“I think you’ll want to be ready for an ass fuck,” he said, his tone dark.

Her breath cut in her chest as she felt him press into her ass. His mouth remained on her clit, sucking as the dildo began to pump ruthlessly. He backed off his tongue only momentarily, as if looking at his handiwork. Violet could not stop the heaviness of her breath, sounding like she was running a marathon, not just being fucked for her dear life. He worked the dildo, shoved two fingers in and nibbled at her pussy relentlessly. Stars started to shoot through the darkness behind her eyes. She weezed for air against the gag as her body shoved her into a state that she was not sure she would return from. She was mewling behind the gag loudly just as he stopped once more with a sharp final note that matched the music.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his tone controlled. “Violet, this next time, I am going to let you cum, baby. You are doing so good for me.”

Her soul felt like it was lit on fire. Baby. He fucking called her baby. He praised her for her control. He waited until her breath was back to normal before starting once more.

“Let’s make that cunt scream for me,” he said before starting once more.

Jake started with a rhythm that was more forthwith with purpose. He sucked and nibbled and lashed with his tongue and mouth while he curled his fingers within her pussy, and pumped the dildo in her ass like he was a trained magician. She focused on the movement of each and the focus that he must be exuding to try to maintain it all. She pictured his face, the tiny creases between his brows as he sought to bring her to orgasm. He began to hum against her in time with music that had turned brighter in nature. She felt herself vibrating with energy. She felt like she was being wrung from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet as he searched for her pleasure. Her core began to flutter as he sped his movements forward. He began to coordinate his fingers and the dildo entering and sliding together just as he sucked hard. Flashing, like a lightning storm, steamed through her vision. She gurgled and hissed against the gag as her body broke loose, the orgasm racking her entire body, spraying him and erupting like a cataclysmic event. Her whole body flailed against him as he continued on her, drinking and sucking her down like she was wine. Slowly, he withdrew without a word. She gasped and gurgled and struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide against the blindfold. Her hands were outstretched and her toes curled.

Minutes passed, and it was still just the sound of her breath and the gentle turn of the melody. Her body finally calmed and relaxed. The quiet began to stretch and her skin started to feel abandoned. Her brain began to wander and fret - had he left her in that position? Had he thought that her reaction to him was wrong in some way? She began to strain against the tethers on her right side, while her left limbs were starting to feel numb and tingly. Her breath started to pick up into shallow gulps as she tried to calm, but what if that man just …

“Nod if you are okay, Violet,” he said softly, his voice far away once more.

Relief poured through her. She nodded as she felt herself let go once more of the thoughts that were threatening to confine her to a past she did not want to recognize was real. Jake was real. He was the only one real in that moment and she rooted the thought in her mind. He was treasuring her body, nurturing her, feeding that whimper that echoed in the back of her mind and deep corner of her soul that just needed to be relished.

She felt him near the head of the bed, close to her face before he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. Another landed on her cheek. The bed dipped against his weight as he breathed against the sensitive skin of her neck. He began to just taste and kiss and press and caress her everywhere, setting her skin on fire with him. He flicked first one, then the other clamp, making her hiss in a delicious manner. He pressed his tongue to the rich flesh of her breast while palming the other.

“You have no idea what you are doing to me, Violet,” he whispered before licking up her cleavage and landing a kiss on the hollow of her neck. “You fucking stunned me. The way you cum for me is so damn amazing that I had to sit my ass down and watch.”

He lay his forehead down onto her soft belly, brushing his fingertips across her skin until he drifted down to her right hip. He placed a wet kiss on the bent thigh before he moved again, this time, the foot of the bed dipped as he moved towards her. He massaged her stretched leg tenderly, taking his time to work his way up to her core.

“I know your body is getting tired,” he whispered, dragging his finger through her folds. “Just a little longer, baby, I promise.”

Her eyes rolled back at the name once more. It was too soft, too tender. The way Jake said it with reverence made her heart ache. Her emotions were flooding her mind with sunshine and rainbows when they were not needed. This was only part of his scene - not real. She scolded herself to stop that train of thought. If she had a free hand, she would cut that right off at the balls that moment.

“I want you to know that I have your lovely blue vibrator in my hand,” he said, rubbing it against her bent leg. “I want to fuck you into oblivion with it. I want you remember me sucking on it, but me fucking you with it, too. Can you do that for me? Nod if you agree.”

Her jaw was slack with the idea of where he was leading her. She nodded once and she could hear him smile.

“Good.” He passed his fingers through her folds again, this time, pinching down on her clit. “Damn, Violet. Already ready? Such a fine, fine whore for me.”

The hum that he released as he rubbed the vibrator against her matched the turn of the music - dark and heavy. She could feel him coil against her, his body feeding from the tone. His hands slithered up her sides roughly, causing her to suck in a breath in preparation for what was to come. His fingertip touched the clamp on her left nipple, twisting it. The whine that escaped her was a mix of shrill and guttural. He repeated the movement as he shoved the vibrator into her center. She gasped at the feel.

“Oh, my dear sweet bitch, did you think this was going to be easy?” he asked sharply. He moved blue from side to side without pulling it from her. Her back bowed against it. “Hmm, she liked that, didn’t she? Let’s see what we can add.”

The warm lube drizzled over her once more. Her tongue pressed against the ball gag before she sucked it in to bite down. One hand was pumping the dildo, the other was slathering her back entrance and more than likely himself. Gently, he lifted her right thigh so as not to move the side that was cuffed, but to gain a better angle.

He gripped her ass cheek as he moved closer. The tip of his dick brushed against her in deliberate fashion. She relaxed the best she could, knowing what was to come. The way he hit the hilt of the toy cock against her sent stars shooting through her vision, but then… Then… The fullness. The press. The hard gasp as he entered her and slid to his own hilt. He stopped for a long moment, allowing her to adjust to the sensation.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he whispered against her. “So. Damn. Good.”

He started moving, slow at first, grinding the vibrator against her with each strike. She could not help the whimpers and gasps and moans that erupted from her throat without volition. Every sense, every nerve was being tickled and tried as he began to slam against her body. The music was moving through a fast, brutal pace that he matched until it slowed and grew languid once more, only to pick up again and gasp again.

“Violet, nod if you’re still with me,” he said, his tone getting frantic.

She nodded the best she could under him. He began to grip her harder as he began to shift once more, each strike punctuated with a grind or a lift. She felt her entire body becoming unraveled under his care. She could not stop it even if she wanted to.

The piano notes rose sharply, carelessly. He followed it like he would follow a steep path at a high rate of speed. Her body froze at the feel of one clamp being released from her breast. He let out a sharp growl as she started to cum around him. He pounded her with every ounce of strength he had. The second clamp was released and she could not help the release of breath from her lungs and whine from her throat. His hand came down on her chest, holding her still as he rode out his orgasm in a barrage of sound that matched the heat of the melody. He continued to move until he couldn’t move any more.

Violet listened to him struggle to regain his breath, just as she was doing with her own. Gently, he slipped from her before removing the vibrator. She felt his hand press into the mattress at her left side, before a sudden click and release of her ankle and wrist. The feeling rushed back to these limbs as he carefully straightened out her leg for her. The blindfold was pulled away, followed by the ball gag. Before she could get her eyes to focus, his mouth crashed into hers in a passion filled kiss. His hand cupped her cheek tenderly, the pad of his thumb brushing away tears.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, looking into his face.

He was beyond glowing. His eyes were exhausted, but his smile was tremendously satisfied. He worked to release her wrist and ankle from the tethers, setting each one down with care. He rubbed her sore joints and muscles of her arms and legs, every few moments, he would rise up and kiss her once more until she started to laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, standing up and moving towards the bathroom. “I don’t know how you function without a tub.”

“Baths are pussies,” she quipped. “Oh… wait.”

The mock cross look on his face as he looked out made her laugh even more. He started the water then moved back out to her.

“If I ever get a chance to remodel, which I plan to, that is on my list.” She grimaced as she stood up and he wrapped his arm around her waist to help. “Faure.”

He smiled at her. “Just figuring it out?”

“I couldn’t remember his damn name. That was a beautiful touch, by the way,” she said as she limped along.

“Thank you,” he whispered as they finally made it into the bathroom. “Fuck, did I break you?”

“No, I’m good. Just feeling ‘old’ lady and all,” she said as he moved to open the shower door.

“Are you going to be okay here for a few minutes? I’ll go clean up the room,” he asked as she stepped under the hot water.

Violet’s eyes rolled closed as the water soothed her aching limbs and washed away the evening. She moved slowly, allowing the heat to absorb into her skin, relieving the muscles. Flashes of what had just happened moved through her mind as she began to process what Jake had done. But her brain kept stopping on a singular moment - he called her ‘baby’. Not once. Not twice. Three times the name had slipped from his lush mouth.

She stood still under the spray. Her brain and spirit might have been doing backflips over their evening, but her damn body was feeling a little betrayed. Feeling his hands on her hips, she startled a bit.

“Hey,” he whispered as he stepped in behind her, pulling her close. He leaned past her, squeezing a bit of her body wash into his palm before setting in and massaging her wrists, her hips and finally her ankles. “Shit, I didn’t realize that you marked so easily, Vi.”

She shrugged as he continued to work out the soreness in her muscles. “I’m a faster healer. I promise.”

“Damn, look at you,” he said, catching her eye. “You’re shining.”

He rose up and pressed their bodies together before kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms at his waist, just taking all of him in and enjoying his closeness. He washed her hair and she washed his. They laughed as they fought to get the suds out of their faces before it hit their eyes. He let her wash him from head to toe while he continued to rub and soothe her sore limbs.

He helped to dry and get into her comfy sleep shorts and t-shirt after he quickly dried and yanked on a pair of shorts he had left behind. “I’m starving,” he said as he set down her brush. “How about I go heat up our supper?”

“That sounds good,” she said, as she started to pull the brush through her hair.

By the time she was dried and sleepy, she found that he had set their places at the kitchen island and had some blues playing in the background. He met her as she hit the bottom stair and pulled her into a warm embrace, looking her over to ensure that she was okay. She smiled at him, feeling shy as he brushed her hair over shoulder.

“Tired?” he asked as he kissed her forehead.

She hummed against him. “More hungry I think.”

They sat side by side, whispering as they spoke, touching every chance they could as they ate the meal that Jake had started for them. She told him to just leave the dishes in the sink and come to bed. By the time they lay together, wrapped around each other, their bodies were done. Jake pressed tiny kisses against her eyelids until she was asleep in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

***

Jake POV

For whatever reason, he had stirred in his slumber. Beneath his hand, he could feel her fingers twitching. She let out a soft whine as she breathed out. Opening his eyes, he found he lay nose to nose with her. Her face was stressed. It was not beyond him that Violet was having a nightmare.

Jake tried to close his eyes once more. Tried to ignore her struggle. A strangled ‘no’ escaped her, her fingers becoming rigid beneath his palm. His heart began to hurt as he looked at her. Slowly, he lifted his hand and as carefully as he could, he placed it to her cheek, applying the lightest pressure. Her breathing leveled out. The furrow between her brows smoothed.

“Damn,” he whispered out loud, feeling his heart freeze at the sight of her.

Sliding from the bed, he grabbed his shorts from the floor and rummaged around in search of his t-shirt, finding it under her panties. Jake slowed himself down, though for whatever reason he felt he would meltdown if he did not escape that room right then and there. Instead, he picked up her clothes, folding and setting them on the chair by the bathroom. He walked down the stairs, phone in one hand, cigarettes in the other. He stepped out onto the deck and lit a smoke as fast as he could before looking at his phone. He grimaced at the early hour - knowing full well that there would be no one at the house that would be awake to come and get him for a hasty get-a-way.

Sitting down with a huff, he raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said, allowing himself to melt into the chair.

The feel of Violet’s skin still danced on his hand. The sound of her ease filled his brain. Though it was not the first time that he had awoken to her being in such a state, it was the first time he was able to extend comfort. He felt a shame spread across his mind. He had either overestimated his own ability to stay shallow and not allow himself to become too attached, or he had underestimated her and what she possessed that made her Violet. Had he been with any other woman, it would not have been so difficult to step back, shield himself, or convince himself he did not care. He internally berated himself.

He had fucking called her ‘baby’. A slip, for sure. However, he meant it. His heart meant the endearment and he could not stop it in the heat of the moment. Just like he could not stop himself from practically swallowing her when he had gotten the gag off of her. He had not the time to justify what was happening. He had no true need for the lightness that had assumed residence within him, placed by her, but was being nurtured by himself.

He crushed his smoke only to light another. Jake caught sight of a doe and fawn at the edge of the woods. Breathing in the silence, his brain only bent towards the woman that had accepted him for what he was and acknowledged that she was a kin to him. When she put to voice a boundary that he would have set silently for himself, it had unsettled him, without realizing the why.

Violet was an equal. Not that he had not come across others that were the same, but she was of like mindset. She did not want commitment. She did not need a partner. She sure as fuck was not looking for a goddamn soulmate. So why the hell was he sprouting fucking heart eyes and rainbows everytime she so much as turned her attention on him?

Okay. So perhaps he cared for her a little more than he normally would any other. Violet had actual intelligence and independence. His typical fare were fairly easy to dazzle, fuck and leave. She was not like that. She could hold a conversation, polite or otherwise, no matter the topic, finding interest for herself along the way. She had empathy for those around her, though it would seem that she was not shown the same favor at some point in her recent history. Though she could call people out on their own bull shit, she could certainly find level ground to which she could part without animosity.

Her ability to keep up with his brothers was something that made him smile. Even Josh was fully open with her, a rare feat. He could talk with her in a seemingly endless jumble of ideas and she would somehow decipher his ideas enough to actually ask questions. Danny labeled her a ‘Josh Whisperer’ one night the prior week to everyone’s agreement.

Violet had spun an interesting, complex web around him that he had to admit, held him enthralled. She may fuck him like a possessed angel, but she allowed him freedom that others would scoff for sharing his needs. She fucking read him like no other could. She had a confidence that allowed her to receive him and keep up with him like no other had been able to before. He was smart enough not to equate sex to anything, but the way she glowed and sparkled during their most intimate moments kept him wanting more. Dancing the other night while she tossed his shirt in the dryer, or the way she just handed his shirt back to him that morning had become important. The way she flirted, touched him, laughed with him. He was the one being fucking dazzled. His brain froze on the notion.

A different kind of shame touched him. Violet did not need a child running away from her at the first sign of not being able to deal with his own shit. She was worth strolling across that fine line beyond where he was comfortable. Standing, he snuck back into the house, washing the smoke off his hands before grabbing a glass of water. His eyes caught the bookcase before he started up the stairs. Grabbing the first one that caught his eye, he made his way to the bedroom, hoping that she was still sleeping.

He thanked the curtain gods that she had pulled the blackouts last night. The sound of her soft breathing relieved him. He slid back into the bed, turning on the soft light on the nightstand before relaxing into the space. He smiled as she snuggled up against his side, but stayed in a deep sleep. Yeah. She was worth whatever hurt lay at the end of their path.

Taglist: you can join here or send me an ask

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @niallsboxx @jakesgrapejuice @maverick-rose @joshkiszkas

#jake kiszka x oc #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut

33 notes · View notes

mitchbeck · 3 months

Link

#AHL #AmericanHockeyLeague #ArtemAnisimov #BridgeportIslanders #ChicagoBlackhawks #HartfordWolfPack #JakeLeschyshyn #LehighValleyPhantoms #LouisDomingue #MoheganSunArenaatCaseyPlaza #NationalHockeyLeague #NewYorkRangers #ProvidenceBruins #SpringfieldThunderbirds #TotalMortgageArena #Wilkes-Barre/ScrantonPenguins #XLCenter

0 notes

favoritejohn · 3 years

Text

he just.... walks around like that?

246 notes · View notes

sunshineandaisies · 3 years

Text

Coffee Connection

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: sexual suggestions, i think a few language words maybe?

You were a creature of habit, there was no denying that, and you had no shortage of habits that made you such.

Example A; every Thursday afternoon, after you’d rushed from the lecture hall at the end of your final class of the day, you’d spend two hours sitting on the plush couch in the coffee shop just down the street from your apartment, sipping coffee after coffee as you fingers clacked across the keyboard of your laptop and you made the latest edits to your graduate thesis.

Usually, there would always be a random stranger sitting at the opposite end of the couch, and it was never the same person two weeks in a row. Sometimes it was a sharply dressed business type that sipped their coffee while scrolling through emails on their phone, and other times it was sleep-deprived student, sipping on what you assumed was likely their sixth cup of coffee that day and trying their best to not pull their hair out as they worked on whatever assignment had them so obviously stressed. Occasionally, you even recognized a professor that you had taken classes with during your undergrad, laughing as they graded poorly written and ill-conceived papers.

But six weeks ago, you recognized the man that sat in the seat at the other end of the couch as the same man that had sat beside you the week before.

When you first realized that he was the same man from the week before, you did your best to look him over from the corner of your eye. He was certainly the tall, handsome brooding type - that much was clear with just a single glance - but you had to do a bit of a double take when you saw the book that he was so intently focused on.

Twilight? Really?

You had been so shocked by his book choice that you didn’t see him look up at you with an annoyed expression etched across his features, but as soon as you felt his intense gaze on you your cheeks flooded with warmth and you quickly averted your gaze.

You didn’t dare look at him again that day.

The following week, however, you put your surreptitious observation skills to the test as soon as you took your usual seat on the plush couch, and you were pleasantly impressed with what you saw. Mesmerizing blue eyes, deliciously muscled thighs, fingers that made your mind wander to less than appropriate places, and...and a metal arm?

You put an end to your staring sooner than you really wanted to, but you’d rather not have your silent coffee shop companion see you salivating over him. Instead, you focused on your thesis and cast the tiniest of glances at the man when you found your mind conjuring up images of what his fingers could do and what it would feel like to have his metal hand wrapped around your-

What the hell? First he was reading Twilight, and now he’s reading The Hunger Games? Who the hell was this guy?

As the weeks went on, the two of you sat alone together and your confusion over his reading interests only grew. So far, you’d seen him read not only Twilight and The Hunger Games, but also various books from the Game of Thrones series and The Fault in Our Stars.

Additionally, as the weeks went on, your impending thesis deadline was swiftly approaching, and your Thursday routine was rudely interrupted by an impromptu meeting with your graduate advisor after your final class of the day. It was a quick meeting, no more than twenty minutes long, but that small interruption of your usual schedule had you sprinting across campus, frazzled and frantic and worried that your seat on the plush couch of the coffee shop would be taken by the time you finally arrived.

You hurried away from the counter as soon as your usual cup of coffee had been pushed into your hand by the exhausted barista, hoping that your seat hadn’t been taken when you failed to show up ten minutes ago. A sigh escaped from between your lips when you saw that it remained vacant. Depositing your bag on the ground in front of the couch, you quickly pulled your laptop out and tried to calm your frazzled nerves enough to focus on your thesis.

“You’re late.”

You were so surprised that he had actually spoken to you that you froze, wondering if you’d simply imagined it. A quick glance to your side told you that you absolutely had not imagined it. He stared at you with a frown on his face and his brows pinched together in irritation, his book all but abandoned in his lap.

You raised a brow at him. “What?”

His eyes widened and a barely noticeable dusting of pink coated his cheeks. Cute. “I, uh-” Watching him stumble over his words as he tried to come up with a believable explanation for his surprising concern had you biting your lip to suppress an amused smile. “Nevermind,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to his book - this time the Maze Runner - as his lips tightened into an unimpressed line.

“No, you’re right.” He cautiously dragged his gaze back to you, curiosity sparkling in his blue eyes. “I was late. I’m never late.” After a moment of observing you, he nodded. Before he could go back to reading his book and ignoring you again, you commented, “Your taste in books has improved since the first week you sat with me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly before he was expressionless once again. “Yeah, I really wish I could get those hours of my life back.” You giggled, and he wasn’t able to fight back the smile that spread across his face.

“The Maze Runner’s pretty good,” you assured him. “Movies are good, too.”

And somehow, you ended up spending the next hour talking with your once silent coffee shop companion - “Bucky,” he had introduced himself with a smile - and completely ignoring your thesis in favor of talking about his recent book choices and opinions on their respective movie or television adaptations. Did he think Twilight was terrible? Absolutely. Did he think that the Hunger Games was an interesting commentary on social class differences? Definitely. Did he think the last season of Game of Thrones was awful? Don’t get him started. Did he cry while watching The Fault in Our Stars? No comment.

When you finally asked why he was reading so much - especially some of his questioning book choices - he sighed, answering, “My therapist thinks it’ll help me get acclimated to the twenty-first century better if I work on understanding pop culture better. These books were all on her list of recommendations.”

Suddenly, it clicked. Bucky, metal arm, getting acclimated to the twenty-first century. “You’re Bucky Barnes.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a statement, an undeniable fact, and it clearly caught him off guard that you came to that conclusion so easily.

“Uh, yeah.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck, his lips turning down into a frown. “That’s me.”

Despite his reaction, you chuckled. “Well this is awkward.” He quirked a brow at you, his frown deepening. Before he could misunderstand, you continued, “I’m writing my thesis on societal perceptions of superheroes. I’ve literally spent hours researching you and Captain America and Iron Man and Thor and-”

He interrupted you, his brows pinched so tightly together you worried they’d end up stuck like that. “You think I’m a superhero?”

You shrugged and took a quick sip of your now cold coffee. “I mean, yeah. You helped Captain America fight Hydra back in the forties, and you helped beat Thanos last year, didn’t you?”

“There’s a lot of things I’ve done in the time between then that would firmly put me in the other category.”

You let out a breath, nodding solemnly. “I read about that, too,” you admitted. “But I also know that it wasn’t really something that you did of your own free-will. That makes you a victim, not a villain. When you actually had a choice, it seems like you always chose to do the right thing.”

He remained silent for an extended moment, and you worried that you ruined the easy companionship that had developed between you and the supersoldier. You tried to force down the rising sense of disappointment as you pursed your lips and turned away from him, slowly packing up your belongings to leave.

“Wait, Y/N.” You paused in the middle of shoving your laptop into your bag and glanced up at him curiously. “Can I-” He cleared his throat. “Can I buy you a coffee?”

You raised a brow, gaze flickering to your half-full cup of coffee on the table.

He chuckled, and dear god a sound has never made your stomach flip and flop as much as the sound of his deep chuckles spilling from his parted lips. “I mean a fresh, hot coffee. If, uh, you’re open to it, I’d like to hear more about your thesis.”

You nodded eagerly and pulled your laptop from your bag as a wide smile curled your lips. “I’d like that.”

123 notes · View notes

whump-town · 3 years

Text

You Worry Me

Pairings: Emily & Hotch

Summary: college au things, Hotch checking himself into a mental hospital for the weekend

Warnings: child abuse, mental health struggles, abuse, suicide attempt, drugs, alcohol

When Emily asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with her she had expected far more hesitation than what she was met with. It’s not that she doesn't have other people to ask but when she really has to think about it he’s the only person she wants around like that. She’s content with his silence and his strange but enrapturing bouts of… oddness. She’s already thrown up in front of him (bad stomach flu she refused to admit was as bad as it was) and stood guard so he could pee behind a dumpster when they’d walked to the store at midnight for cigarettes and energy drinks.

She finds the courage to ask him on the front lawn of campus, stretched out on their backs ignoring their work and just photosynthesizing. Closing their eyes in silent enjoyment as spring tries to peek through winter's tight grip. When she turns to look at him the words just come tumbling out and she waits for his reaction. She’s not sure why she’s expecting anything other than that predictable crooked smirk but it still shocks her. He turns his head, lifting his arm to shield his eyes as he does so. Mostly, he just wants to know where he came in the line-up. How many people told her no before she came to him?

The honest answer is none but she smirks and tells him four and he laughs that deep goofy laugh that he does and she doesn’t know why she was nervous he’d say no. With a tired sigh, he nods and that’s all it takes-- they’re sharing an apartment.

He carries her clothes up to their floor, leaves her the pillows and her comforter for her to drag up. He’s exhausted by the time he’s got her things sitting on her bedroom floor but goes down to the beaten old pick-up truck his mother let him borrow to get his own things. Informs her with one of those long crooked fingers to worry with her own things and leave him to get his own. She resigns herself to listening but only because she’d seen his load and knew her help wouldn’t really quicken the whole six, small, boxes he has.

On his third trip she’s had enough and with a dramatic sigh she shakes her head and stands right in the doorway to his room. “No,” she says, crossing her arms. “No, I refuse to believe this. There’s no way you’ve read all these books.” She’s watched him carry three boxes of books into this apartment and not just boxes with things like thrown in he’s got them stacked to take up as little room as possible in these boxes. They’re heavy, he’s sweating and they keep coming.

With a sigh he leans down and sets the box currently in his arms down on the floor. “I read,” is his very complex answer. Aaron Hotchner has a way with words and she’s come to know that well. He shrugs, pushing at the hair slicked with sweat against his scalp. “I have read them… all of them.” Most of them more than once.

Books are the only thing he’s ever had. When he’d packed up for college all of the room had been taken up by these books. His clothes fit into one box but the books, he made room for the books. Every year, for as long as he can remember, his mother would buy him a book for his birthday. He got a job in town to have money to buy books to try and stifle his insatiable hunger (and his up-and-coming smoking habit).

She looks down at the box he’s just placed down, sighing when she sees that atop a pair of jeans there’s another book. Sherlock Holmes, she recognizes easily, and she shakes her head. “You know,” she steps out of his way and he heaves the box back up with a grunt. “My mother asked if I thought you’d kill me.” He falters mid-step but doesn’t stop. Carries the box to the others and sits it down heavily. He turns and finds her watching him with that quizzical, intuitive frown of hers. “You’re big but I think I could take you.”

He huffs at that, shaking his head and sliding past her so he can get his other boxes. She has no worries about him hurting her and strangely she hadn’t even considered that he might hurt her until her mother had mentioned it. Besides, she knows just enough to never truly worry. He’s the boy who vomits when he gets angry - if he shouts he’ll end up curled around the toilet shaking with a fever. He’d never hit a soul and if he did, she can only imagine the penance his body would conjure up as punishment.

But he huffs and she hears it.

She jumps on his back as he’s setting his box down on the ground. He moves just a little, stumbling under their combined weight. “Emily,” he warns, doing his best to not react. He knows how she is. She wants him to get rough, to hook his arm under her leg and yank her around. If he acts unbothered she’ll leave him alone. She’s far too much like having a little sibling around again - a sobering and, yet, comforting notion.

She does get bored and quickly. “I’m gonna go see Eric,” she informs him, slipping down off his back. He grunts and it’s just the wrong sound and she falters for a moment. Aaron’s met Eric and she’d thought they got along well but… she’s started to second guess that a little more every time she mentions either to the other. “I’ll be back this afternoon,” she adds apprehensively. Catches on to move the conversation on and away from the subject of her boyfriend but she still finds herself hovering by his doorway. Chewing her lip and anxiously asking, “do you mind if I bring Eric Wednesday?”

He just looks down at the box he’s sorting through, back turned to her. He shakes his head, sighing, “I don’t care what you do Emily.” He does care, deeply, but he looks back at her for only a brief moment. Sad brown eyes begging with her to not push, to not make him talk about this more.

With a nod, the conversation is over.

Wednesday night he smokes the pot that Derek passes to him without a second thought. It’s been burned down to the last few puffs, the heat from the lit end burns his fingers tips but he still puts it to his lips. Pulls from what little remains of the blunt as if it’s oxygen itself, a mask over his face meant to level him out. Maybe it will. The heat sinks down into his lungs and he ends up doubled over, spit drooling over his lips. Laughter bubbles up around him and a hand rubs at his back, Emily, he knows but only by the way that her perfume stings his nose he tries to breathe through the assault.

“Give it here before it burns out--”

Emily takes the blunt from his fingers and passes it to Eric. He’s an asshole and they all hate him but they love Emily and if they want her around then they have to deal with him. It’s safer to have him here, where they can watch him. He won’t dare hurt her in front of them -- but is that not what he’s doing when he leaves bruises across her face like constellations? Sends her back to them so that they can dab makeup over the Milky Way and breathe reassurances over Orian’s Belt when she falls into a hug.

Emily pulls him back upright, guides his head to lilt to the side as he sags against her. He can feel Eric’s fingers near his collar, the possessive hand he keeps on Emily at all times. A silent reminder of the power he holds over them all. Emily kisses his temple, oblivious to the mental war happening on both sides of her.

Derek reaches over and smacks his thigh, and encouraging little maneuver he means to comfort Aaron with. Aaron has checked out, arms too heavy to push away from all the touching. Can’t worm out of Emily’s arms or Derek’s comforting hand on his leg. He feels nothing past the tip of his nose. Not Emily’s bones underneath his cheek, her body carved down by Eric’s harmful comments about her weight and the coke he supplies like it’s a love language. Not Derek’s hold on him, the fear he can’t express but feels deep within his churning stomach, that Aaron’s slipping away and they’re all just bystanders to his eventual suicide.

Thursday night he’s woken up by Emily sneaking into his room, the soft click of a glass of water being sat down on his nightstand and the clatter of pills finding their way beside it. She presses her fist into his sternum, applying pressure where he feels like he’s coming unraveled. It’s like her hands are grasping his strayed ends, holding him together like a shredded kite until she can pull the fabric halves back together. “Okay,” she breathes, failing to provide him with steeled calm. His heart is beating so hard against her hand she’s afraid to let go. Her understanding of medicine is narrowed to just knowing you’re not supposed to put a bandaid on a burn. Kids can still have heart attacks, maybe not the over-worked, a little heavy-set dad kind caused by blocked arteries but he’s got the stress level and something certainly isn’t right.

He wakes up alone, doesn’t remember when she left or if she came at all. His only clue is those pills sitting in the perspiration of the now lukewarm water on his nightstand. He can’t move just yet, force his hand out to obtain the pills but he’ll wake up again in a pain-filled haze moved only by such intense pain that he fears sitting still another moment will rip him in half. The pills are slimy as they sit on his tongue and leave their bitter medicine laced into the gulp of water he manages. He’ll turn back over onto his side, pull his knees to his chest, and hope he doesn’t throw them back up.

He writes an essay in the haze of the Rizatriptan six hours later. His brain is only half-working, thoughts jumbled together or not there at all. The migraine lingers, fingers made of cotton muffling the world in a spirling nothing. It’s a similar feeling to being high, the haze is just too much but he has to write this paper because his professor won’t give him another extension -- he would if he knew Aaron needed one but he’s already asked once so he won’t do it again.

Friday the panic sets in.

Everyone is watching him.

Nobody likes him.

Why is he here?

Starfished out on a picnic blanket, Emily is spending her Friday out of the apartment. Armed with a water bottle filled with Vodka, a quilt, and a cooler full of popsicles they stumble their way through the unplowed field behind campus. Spencer hates the bugs and he holds tightly to Emily’s belt, making sure to step where she does as they trample through the too-high grass. Like broken dolls, they fall onto the quilt, familiar with one another enough not to care how they land in the tangle of limbs.

“Emily?”

She hums, not opening her eyes. The sun will remain stubbornly risen for a few more minutes and until it sets she’s trying to soak in every second of its warmth. Until it falls behind the trees and they’re bathed in the moonlight.

“Do you want a drink?”

She opens her hand, holding it up in the general direction of Derek’s voice. The water bottle finds her palm, slightly warm from sitting in the sun and in their laps as it makes its rounds. It feels oddly light but she doesn’t comment. The vodka stings down her throat but it’s familiar and it’s nearly as warm as the sun itself falling down her body.

“Where’s Hotch?”

She passes it to Penelope before laying back down, closing her eyes. “His psychiatrist put him on -” suddenly she can’t remember what it’s called. “Clom-something --”

Spencer looks up, understands this is a place for him to jump in. He feels overwhelmed with his excitement as he helpfully adds, “clomipramine! It’s a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, SSRI is the short-hand. It increases levels of serotonin in the brain.” He shifts himself, turning closer to them and away from where he’d been watching the blanket's edge for potential bugs trying to crawl near him. “It has the same side-effects as most SSRIs: drowsiness, intestinal upsets, decreased libido, changes in appetite--”

“Woah!” Derek sits up, suddenly paying attention. His eyebrows are scrunched together, alarmed. “He can’t… He won’t be able to like get it up?” He looks at Spencer and then at Emily. “That’s what libido means, man. How’s not being able to have sex going to help him not get all… gummed in the gears? Stuck in his head?” Aaron’s having a hard enough time, it hardly feels like ruining his sex life is the solution to that.

Spencer shakes his head, trying to understand how they’ve moved from facts about antidepressants to Hotch’s sex drive. “What?” If he took a second to think about it, he’d be blushing too hard to even bother with that statement. “No, the brain--”

“Spence,” Emily warns softly. Hotch might not be here to stop them from talking about his sex life but she is and she doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it’s none of their business. They’ve seen how bad things can get. “Hotch is basically a nun,” she reminds them. And it’s true. Before anyone diagnosed him, before he even knew something was wrong he wasn’t nearly as adventurous as her or Derek. “He didn’t come today because despite the--” she motions at Spencer.

“The clomipramine,” he supplies.

“Yes, the that, it doesn't work. He has a new psychiatrist, though, and he wants to run through some old stuff again.” She shakes her head, “a stronger dosage and a better plan. I don’t know, I guess we’ll know in another month. He’ll either end up in the hospital again or he’ll be fine.” She shrugs, “right now he’s locked himself in his room.”

There’s a low murmur of understanding and Spencer’s eyes go back to the edge of the blanket. They all remember what happened the last time he had to change medications. Emily had called JJ, the dead of the night making their intensely private and scary conversation seeping with the darkness’s own mixed intensities. Aaron had taken some bad drugs from a guy he didn’t even know, stumbled home, and passed out in his and Emily’s apartment bathroom. Where she found him seizing, choking on his vomit.

They didn’t and couldn’t see him for seventy-two hours, the mandatory hold from the hospital because they ruled it an attempted suicide and Aaron didn’t even try to put up a fight and say it was something else.

Friday night when she stumbles home he isn’t there.

His room is empty -- bedsheets are thrown back as if he left in a rush and his desk lamp still on. She feels that fear sink back into her, throat tight and mind racing, but the bathroom door is open, his pills still meticulously organized in the cabinet over the sink. Even his toothbrush is in the dish. So wherever he is, he won’t be gone long. She stills warns the others, asks them to look out for him or to, at the very least, expect his imminent arrival.

Derek offers to drive around and look for him.

Emily lets him do it, give him something to do -- he would have done it even if she told him it was unnecessary. She’s fairly certain she knows where he is.

Sure enough, she gets the call Monday morning at 7:30.

He does this every once in a while. As often as he can without them enforcing a longer hold, without it going on some sort of record that might prohibit getting a job. She doesn’t really understand why. He hates the mental hospital. Complains that it’s freezing cold and he hates the entire function and yet, here she is spending her Monday morning picking him up. This makes only about the fourth time since she’s known him but how many times has he just made the decision to walk? How many times hasn’t he called her to pick him up?

“You have got to stop walking here.” She rolls the window down first, shouting out at him as she pulls to a stop. He looks better than he had Friday morning when she invited him out to the field with the rest of them. She’d barely managed to get him to sit up, feeding pills between his pale lips, and then pulling his blanket back up over his shoulders. Shutting the blinds and leaving him a glass of water. Maybe she should have just offered to take him then, she’d known with hindsight this is where he would be.

He opens the backdoor without saying a word, crawls into the backseat, and curls up across the seats. He’s wearing a sweatshirt they must have given him, shoes not even on just held by the tips of his curled fingers. They land with a thud on the floor and all the response she gets is a pair of grippy socks landing on her passenger seat, the wordless thanks for picking him up… again.

“Class or home?” she asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Class.”

She did bring his bookbag with her, it’s sitting on the floor beside her own, but she will not be taking him to class. He recognizes that when she pulls out of the exit when she turns left instead of right. He grunts but doesn’t say anything, opting to curl further into himself. Protecting his head from an unseen threat.

The rest is practice. He’s foggy from the medicine they give him, always something different from what he’s taken. It’s meant to bring him down, strengthen his haze, and keep him calm. To shut his mind up -- and it’s good, it really does work. It just makes him so exhausted.

“Get your big butt--” Emily has to help him get into his bed and just as he’s about to apologize -- mouth hung open and his eyes squinting as he tries to force sluggish thoughts through a brain that hasn’t worked in days -- she climbs up after him.

His head hits the pillow and his mind goes blank, can’t even form the “I’m sorry” trying to trip its way out of his mouth.

Within seconds she’s laying down beside him, wiggling down under the covers and pulling them up over them. “Derek was pretty pissed you left again without telling us,” she whispers. It takes her a moment but she leans back up and pulls the blinds down, shuts the light from outside from coming in. Then she’s right back beside him, head on his chest. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Aaron. It’s-- It’s--” cruel.

Breathlessly he whispers, “sorry.” It’s all he can manage, drugs still heavy in his bloodstream and eyes forced shut, to move his hand to her back. To try and convey more than what he’s capable of with words that he didn’t mean to scare her. He just scared himself.

She turns her face into his sweatshirt and lets out a little sob, holding onto him. “I think I’m going to break up with Eric.” She’d come up with a thousand reasons Aaron would have disappeared, even as logic dictated where she knew he was. Her fear covered everything until she was sat wondering if she was making things worse for Aaron. His anxiety and migraines and everything else. Was she adding to his stresses or helping?

Coming home and having to ask him to relive parts of his childhood for her… Having him dab foundation over her bruises with his tremoring hands knowing he was thinking about his mother. That he was thinking about doing this exact exercise on himself, covering bruises his father left across his own face. Dabbing blood away and whispering empty, useless promises.

“Okay,” he whispers.

His mother had offered him that same lie a thousand times. She’d drawn lines in the sand and washed them away the next morning with the reconstruction of a wave -- thin cold fingers touching a bruise and asking what happened. As if she hadn’t watched. As if she hadn’t picked him up off the floor and hidden him away in his room, draping her body over his.

“I mean it,” she whispers, her tone mixed with conviction she doesn’t have.

“I know.” He’ll pretend to not remember this conversation when she goes bar crawling with Eric Thursday night. He’ll avoid the other’s eyes when they look at him for some sort of explanation, why she’s taken by her promise this time. But for now, he’s tired and he’s warm and he feels safe. He’ll call Spencer and Penelope later and apologize for blowing off the plans they had to watch Doctor Who, act like they all don’t know where he’s been.

“I love you.”

He squeezes her hips, gives in to his exhaustion. “I love you too.”

#abuse #child abuse #alcohol #suicide attempt #mental health #drugs #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss

48 notes · View notes

iffeelscouldkill · 3 years

Text

TSCOSI Week Day 1: Violet / Nature

A/N: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE A WHOLE DAY LATE FOR THIS AND THEN IT TURNED OUT THAT THE WEEK STARTS ON THE 25TH! Made it with 35 minutes to spare in my timezone dfsgghshshjs

(Watch me now be late for every single other day because I spent all my time on this one fic and have nothing else written for the other days xD)

Anyway, this is Day 1, prompt: Violet/Nature! It’s set kind of ambiguously around season 2, i.e. they’re on the Iris II, but there’s no other specific references to events of season 2, so this is spoiler-free!

Enjoy!

Violet sneaked as quietly as she could through the corridors of the ship, doing her best to conceal the bundle under her arm. The seller at the market stall had been nice enough to wrap it up in extra paper for her to disguise its shape, though he’d cautioned that she should be sure to unwrap it as soon as she had the opportunity.

She just needed to avoid bumping into anyone on her way to her room who might ask what she-

“Did you get what you needed?”

“Gah!” Violet jumped and whirled around, then relaxed when she saw who it was. “Uh, sorry, Captain, I thought you were – yes, I did, thank you.”

Sana eyed the bundle under her arm with interest. “Am I allowed to know what you doubled back for?”

“It’s uh…” Violet hesitated. It wasn’t Sana she was trying to keep it a secret from – if anything, Sana was the ideal person to confide in, but she felt suddenly embarrassed, wondering if she’d misjudged her spur-of-the-moment decision. “It’s something for Thursday.”

“Oh!” Sana’s face lit up. “Violet, that’s great. I’ve bought some ingredients to make one of her favourite dishes for dinner, but she’ll definitely love your… mystery gift. And if you need any help getting her in place for the surprise, just let me know!”

Violet smiled at her. “I will, Captain. Thank you. And thanks for… telling me, as well.”

“Of course!” Sana replied, beaming and dimpling at her.

Back in the safety of her room, Violet was finally able to unwrap her purchase. Her room had a kind of desk that folded down from the wall, and Violet unfolded it so that she could set the little terracotta pot with its seedling occupant on its surface. Then she studied it.

To say that Violet was not naturally green-fingered would be an understatement; if anything, she had a flair for killing off plant life, and her friends and roommates had learned very quickly not to trust her with anything green and growing. People had a tendency to gift her with pot plants (the joys of having a flower name), and Violet had taken to lying through her teeth when asked about how they were faring. She’d once had a cactus that had survived for a record six months before dying of what was either neglect or possibly a lack of sunlight.

So the fact that Violet needed to take care of this plant until she could give it to Arkady on her birthday in a week’s time wasn’t ideal. Sana had been the one who’d told her about Arkady’s approaching birthday, explaining that it had taken her years of friendship to even pry the date out of Arkady. “She says that she hates people making a fuss,” Sana explained. “But I think it’s because she could never… do much for it, growing up. I’ve tried to make up for that where I can.” She’d given Violet a significant look at that point.

Violet also didn’t think it was a coincidence that Sana had told her this right before they were due to land and resupply near a harbour town with an extensive marketplace.

Violet had only caught sight of the little stall with its rows of pots and tiny green shoots as they were leaving the market. She’d waved the others on ahead, and then covertly made her way over to the stall to inspect the range of plants and their prices.

It was a shame that they hadn't had any fully-grown varieties, but the stallholder had assured her that it would be much more rewarding to grow and take care of from a seedling. “You don't have the bother of germinating it, but you get to watch it grow," he said. “Just make sure you water it regularly, and keep it in a semi well-lit spot.”

Violet hadn’t liked to ask what that would look like on a spaceship. She hadn’t been prepared to rehearse too much of a cover story for buying a plant. But it was only for a week, right? She could take care of one little plant for a week, and then it would be in Arkady’s expert hands.

Right.

---

Three days later, Violet was definitely panicking a little bit.

She still hadn't figured out how to get a plant the equivalent of natural daylight on a spaceship, and the seedling is definitely starting to look a little droopier than before. She watered it the other day - even though it maybe didn't really need watering - so it's definitely not drying out. Of course, there could be any number of other things wrong with it, and Violet wouldn't know, because she had only ever owned plants involuntarily and did not know how to take care of them.

Okay, Vi, don't overthink this, she instructed herself. You're a biologist - you understand living things in principle. They need shelter, they need water and nutrition. And when you're in an environment where you can't get all your nutrients naturally - say, space - you have to find artificial substitutes. After all, it wasn't like humans could get sunlight in space either, but over decades of space travel, they'd found ways to adapt. Vitamin D supplements were a staple on long-haul ships, as were Vitamin D-rich foods, as there was a limit to how much your body would absorb from pure supplements. As a state-of-the-art vessel, the Iris (one, not two) had also been equipped with sun lamps that the crew could sit under for short periods to stimulate their skin's Vitamin D production. But Violet hadn't found anything of the sort on the Iris II. Except-

Violet sat up abruptly on her bed. The Iris II’s medbay was pretty state-of-the-art compared with the Rumor (okay, her medicine cabinet in undergrad had been state-of-the-art compared to the Rumor’s medbay, but still) and she still hadn’t finished exploring all its various fittings, but she distinctly remembered that the lamp over the examination table had an ultraviolet setting.

What was more, Violet didn’t think that she’d have any trouble keeping Arkady away from the medbay for the rest of the week (since she only ever went in there under duress).

Delighted with her revelation, Violet opened the door to her room, intending to go straight to the medbay and test out the lamp – and found Arkady standing on the other side, fist raised to knock.

“Arkady!” Violet exclaimed, quickly re-angling herself so that she was blocking the view of the table with its plant occupant (and thanking every single one of her stars that she hadn’t picked up the seedling to bring with her to the medbay). “Hi!”

“Uh, hi,” said Arkady, smiling a little quizzically. “I was just coming to ask- well, it’s more like the Captain told me to come and ask-”

“Is your leg hurting again?” Violet asked, quickly catching on.

“Not- excessively,” Arkady hedged. “But uh, more than yesterday?”

“I should definitely check it over,” said Violet firmly. “And I can give you more of that Zaletenol to help with the pain for the rest of the afternoon.”

So much for easily being able to keep Arkady out of the medbay – though, at least Arkady had picked now to ask for a checkup and not after Violet had installed the plant somewhere visible. Her leg had been bothering her a lot less recently, or maybe it was just that Arkady had stopped mentioning it. Violet tried to keep a close eye on Arkady as she moved around the ship, watching for any minute signs of pain or discomfort. Unfortunately, Arkady was very good at masking injuries.

“Thanks,” Arkady said, falling into step alongside Violet as they walked towards the medbay. “Also – hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Violet said, smiling at her. Arkady’s cheeks went a little pink.

“Are you sure you didn’t just come by because you missed me?” Violet asked, because she could never resist leaning into the flirting. RJ, whenever they were within earshot of it, called their flirtation “distracting”, but Violet was more than okay with that.

Sure enough, Arkady’s blush darkened. “I… did, actually,” she said. “I was going to come by anyway after my shift ended to see if you wanted to make something in the kitchen together. Jeeter’s promised to leave it alone for the evening.”

Violet, who had been expecting a quip in return, was temporarily lost for words at Arkady’s shy honesty – not to mention the implication that she’d gone to lengths to secure the kitchen so that they could spend some time together. “I – yeah, I’d love that,” she said, knowing she was definitely blushing as well.

Arkady stopped walking, and Violet stopped too, a little puzzled. “What?”

“We’re…” Arkady gestured at the door opposite them. “We’re at the medbay, Liu.”

“-Oh!” Violet couldn’t help snorting with laughter at her own inattentiveness as she hit the door release button. Now who was the one being distracted?

Arkady’s wound was still healing, but showed some signs of swelling that suggested she hadn’t been staying off it like Violet had told her to. “You know what I’m going to say,” Violet told her as she rolled off the biodegradable plastic gloves that she’d been wearing as she gently probed the edges of Arkady’s leg wound, and dropped them into the waste basket.

Arkady rolled her eyes and leaned back on her elbows. “Keep my weight off my leg; I know, I know. It’s just- hard.”

“I get it,” Violet said sympathetically as she dug out a gel pack and squeezed it to activate the cooling crystals. It expanded and inflated slightly as it began to work, which was always equal parts unnerving and satisfying to watch. She handed the pack to Arkady, who laid it against her leg, wincing slightly as it came into contact with her skin. “Sitting around isn’t your style. But the alternative-”

“-Is worse,” Arkady finished for her. “Yeah. I believe you, I guess I just… thought I’d be able to use it again by now.”

“You can use it,” Violet told her. “But go gently. And no running. Not even small amounts.”

Arkady grimaced guiltily, and Violet hid a smile, her hunch proven correct. “I’m going to relay these instructions to the Captain as well, so that she knows what to keep an eye out for,” she said. Arkady huffed indignantly.

“I don’t need monitoring.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Violet said mildly. “But she needs to know how your recovery is progressing so that she can account for it when she gives you jobs to do.” The fact that she didn’t expect Arkady to give Sana this information of her own accord went unsaid. “You need to hold that on your leg for ten minutes,” she added.

As Arkady sat there with the cooling pack held against her thigh, Violet fiddled with the settings on the overhead lamp – making a soft noise of triumph when the lamp switched to an ultraviolet setting.

“Uh-” Arkady said as the two of them were suddenly bathed in an odd black-violet glow, the white floral designs on Violet’s green top shining with unnatural brightness. “Is that the ‘tanning bed’ setting?”

Violet laughed and switched the lamp back to its regular mode. “Sorry, I was just testing – a lot of these more state-of-the-art long-haul ships are equipped with ultraviolet lamps, to counteract Vitamin D deficiency. It can also be a useful treatment for skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis.”

“Huh,” said Arkady, sounding interested. “So, the supplements we take-”

“Don’t account for all of what you need, though if we make landing often enough on planets with a nearby star, you can generally stave off a more serious Vitamin D deficiency,” Violet finished for her.

“Generally?”

“It helps to have one of these on board, just in case,” said Violet. Then, hoping she sounded convincingly casual enough, she added,

“You must have rigged up something similar on the Rumor, right? For the plants in the greenhouse, at least. They’d need some kind of imitation of sunlight in order to grow properly.”

To Violet’s relief, Arkady immediately nodded. “Don’t ask me about the engineering ins and outs of it, but Sana was able to incorporate a couple of ultraviolet bulbs into the greenhouse’s lighting system. Pure ultraviolet light is generally not a good idea, at least long-term – the plants need a balance of ultraviolet and white light to grow properly. So we had a mixture of both.”

Violet nodded in understanding, hoping it didn’t show that she was mentally filing away that detail. “That makes sense,” she said. “I guess I never thought too hard about the practicalities of growing plants in the middle of space.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds,” Arkady said, and Violet almost laughed. “You just have to have a few key things. Light, water, drainage, enough nutrients in the soil… Well, okay, some types of plants are more picky, but the ones we grew on the Rumor were pretty hard to kill.”

Violet snorted a little, figuring it was safe enough to offer up this one detail. “In my experience, no plant is too hard for me to kill. I’m… not particularly good at taking care of them.”

Arkady laughed, and Violet eyed her, a little bit offended. “Sorry, it’s just – you’re a biologist. But you can’t keep a houseplant alive?”

Violet smiled ruefully. “Sad but true. I guess I’d better stick to taking care of people.”

“You, uh…” Arkady looked down at the cooling pack on her leg, gently pressing down on its edges. “You’re pretty good at that one. I mean, not pretty good- well, you are, but- very. You’re very good at it.” The cooling pack was really getting flattened now. Violet smiled, and reached out to gently touch Arkady’s hand and still it.

“Thanks,” she said simply, but tried to show in her expression everything she was feeling. “Shall we go make dinner? You can take the cooling pack off now.”

---

There was still something wrong with the plant.

After managing to persuade Arkady to divulge the secrets of plant care in outer space, Violet had snuck her gift into the medbay for a few hours each day under the guise of ‘inventorying the supplies’, and sat it under the ultraviolet lamp. The rest of the time, the plant lived in her room under a regular white light.

The system had seemed to work at first - the plant visibly perked up, and Violet was now thoroughly familiar with the range of equipment and supplies in the new medbay, which was a big bonus. But now that Violet was studying the plant under the ultraviolet light again, the evening before she was due to give the plant to Arkady, she could tell something was wrong. The plant’s leaves – which had become bigger and more numerous in the short time she’d been taking care of it – were drooping more than they had been, and some of them looked yellow. Frustrated, Violet mentally ran through what Arkady had mentioned you needed to grow plants. Water; she’d watered it twice. The man at the stall had said to water the plant “regularly”, but how often was that? The soil didn’t seem dried out, at least. She’d been giving it light, and as for nutrients in the soil, well, Violet had no idea how to check for that. But it wasn't like she could do anything about the soil if it was no good; they didn't exactly have fertiliser stocked on the ship. Squinting at the plant more closely, Violet was more convinced that something was off. There were these little... bumps on the stem and the underside of the plant's leaves. Bumps that were...

...moving. Violet reared back, clapping a hand over her mouth. Insects. Her – Arkady's – plant had an insect infestation. What was she going to do?? Mentally, she cursed the stallholder for selling her a bug-infested plant. But she realised that was uncharitable. Insects were a part of nature; you couldn't avoid that. He probably hadn't known about the bugs, and it wasn't as if she'd been checking for them anyway. But she couldn't give the plant to Arkady now. What kind of a present would that be? “Happy birthday; here's a sickly, bug-infested plant. Good luck!” She hated the idea of just throwing it out, though – of having to admit failure (again) after she'd tried so hard do things right this time. And she wouldn't have a present for Arkady's birthday. Obviously plant owners dealt with insects all the time, but Violet couldn't ask Arkady about what to do without arousing suspicion and ruining the surprise. Still, which was worse - giving the game away, or letting things get worse because she had no idea how to treat an insect infestation? That was when Violet had an idea. Banking on the fact that no-one was likely to enter the medbay without her there, Violet left Arkady's plant under the UV lamp and closed the door behind her. Looking up and down the corridor, she picked a direction and speed-walked, blowing past a confused RJ, who said, “Uh-” and almost bumping into Brian. “Hey, dude, everything all right?” “Have you seen the Captain?” Violet asked him. “Think she's up in the cockpit,” he replied. “Great, thank you,” said Violet, relieved. If Sana was up in the cockpit, that meant she was with Krejjh, which was... better than her being with Arkady. Not by a lot, because Krejjh was not renowned for their subtlety, but Violet would take what she could get. Coming to a halt in front of the cockpit door, Violet had just realised that she had yet to memorise the entry code for the new ship when the door opened. “Violet!” said Sana in surprise. “Are you okay, is something wrong?” “Not exactly,” Violet admitted as Krejjh, seated at the controls, craned their head around in interest. “I uh, needed your help with something.”

Sana’s expression immediately turned interested. “Okay. Do you wanna talk in here, or...” “Uh, just somewhere-” Violet didn’t want to hurt Krejjh’s feelings by saying ‘somewhere private’, but privacy would be ideal. “-else? It’s about...” Sana’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! Don’t worry, Arkady’s busy with something in the engine room at the moment.” Krejjh fully twisted their body around. “Are you avoiding First Mate Patel?” they demanded with glee. Violet cringed slightly, wishing the Captain could have been a bit more discreet. “Not... permanently, just at the moment.” “We’ll fill you in later, Krejjh,” Sana promised. “Shall we talk in the kitchen, Violet?” Violet nodded, and the two of them made their way through the still jarringly shiny and unfamiliar corridors of the Iris II until they reached the kitchen. Once inside, Sana said, “So, what can I help you with?” “Uh, so this is going to sound like a weird question,” Violet hedged. “But... when you guys were growing food and plants on Cresswin, what did you use for pesticides?” Sana blinked twice and then frowned a little. “Gotta say, I wasn’t really involved in any of the growing – I’m not very good with plants,” she admitted, and Violet almost burst out laughing at the irony. “That’s more Arkady’s domain. But I do happen to know what Campbell uses on his tomato plants, and I think he mixes...” She turned to the cupboards and began pulling out bottles: vegetable oil, baking soda, dish soap. “Depending on how much you need, you want to use twice as much oil as baking soda, and just a little bit of the dish soap,” Sana explained. “And then you want to dilute it with a couple of quarts of water. You can put it in...” She produced an empty spray bottle from yet another cupboard. “This! I was going to make a cleaning spray, but your need is greater.” “Oh God, thank you so much,” Violet said, picking up the bottles. “Did Campbell really tell you all the quantities?” She tried to think when this might have come up over moonshine. Sana smiled, one of her dimples showing. “I helped him make it once. He was having a bit of a crisis.” Violet laughed. “So, a plant, huh?” Sana asked her, her expression knowing. Violet’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m not very good with them either,” she said. Sana smiled at her. “Luckily for both of us, Arkady is. And she will love it,” she said, and headed for the door. “Bugs and all.” Violet put one hand over her face and groaned, but she was laughing. She unscrewed the top of the spray bottle and got to work.

---

De-contaminating the plant was harder work than Violet had bargained for. Violet supposed that most people treating their plants with bug spray weren’t so concerned with appearances, but she really wanted it to look good for Arkady. (And dead bugs were not a good gift). So after spritzing the plant carefully but thoroughly with her homemade spray and then leaving it for a couple of hours to take effect, she used a cotton swab to dust the tiny stalks and leaves and carefully remove any traces of the bugs and the spray.

By the time she was done, it was well after midnight. Violet stretched her arms over her head and breathed a sigh of relief. The plant looked okay. Not in peak health, but okay, and maybe by the morning it would have perked up fully.

Even after midnight, there was always someone awake on the ship, but that someone was usually Krejjh, Sana or Park in the cockpit, which was why Violet deemed it safe to carry the plant with her from the medbay back to her room.

She realised that had been a mistake when, after taking just a few steps away from the medbay, she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Arkady.

“Liu!” said Arkady, her expression lighting up in a way that Violet was slowly coming to realise might actually be just for her. It quickly gave way to confusion as Arkady spotted the plant. “Oh hey, that’s – cool, where did you…? I didn’t realise you had a plant.”

Violet briefly tried to think of a way to explain away the plant, before realising it would just create more confusion and giving in to the inevitable. At least it was after midnight.

“Um, I’ve been keeping it secret because it’s… for you,” she said, proffering the plant. “I was actually planning to present it in a much nicer way, maybe with a ribbon around it? Which is my fault for carrying it openly around the ship, but I thought you’d be asleep, and you’re not and now you’ve seen me, so uh… Happy birthday!”

A dumbfounded silence greeted her words. Violet waited, breath coming quicker as she nervously started to second-guess herself. Oh god, she hates it! The leaves look really yellow under this light, I didn’t realise – or did Captain Tripathi get the date wrong? Maybe it’s not her birthday after all? “I-if you don’t like it, though, I can just-”

“No!” Arkady said, her arms shooting out to take the plant quickly. “I mean yes! It’s great! I was just trying to think when you – when did you buy this? We haven’t made any stops for a week.”

Violet nodded, feeling giddy with relief. “I bought it at a market on Rodinia,” she said. “I’ve been hiding it in the medbay pretty much since then.”

“The ultraviolet light,” Arkady said with dawning realisation. “But you – hate taking care of plants. Right? Or did you just say that to throw me off?”

“No, that was true,” Violet said ruefully. “It’s a miracle this one is still alive.”

Arkady stared down at the plant with a complicated expression, but fortunately Violet was familiar enough with Arkady’s ‘I’m-coming-to-terms-with-someone-doing-a-nice-thing-for-me’ expression not to panic this time. “It’s a bonsai tree,” she said gently, to fill the silence as Arkady processed. “Well, one of several varieties – I know bonsai is actually about how you take care of the tree, and not the variety. This one’s a Japanese maple. Captain Tripathi said you liked trees, and I thought… you can keep this one in your room and grow it yourself.”

“You got me a tree,” Arkady said softly, and Violet could detect a tiny tremor in her voice. “My own… tree.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much, I-”

“No,” Arkady interrupted her quickly. “No, Liu, it’s… perfect. Really.”

Violet knew she was blushing, and smiling so widely it was almost painful, but she couldn’t care too much about either of those things – even though they were still standing in the middle of the corridor. “Happy birthday,” she said again. “I’m really glad you like it.”

Arkady looked up at her, holding the plant pot close to her chest, almost cradling it. “How did you know it was my birthday, anyway?”

“The Captain told me,” Violet admitted. “I hope that’s okay. She said you don’t really like… fuss around your birthday, and we don’t have to do anything else for it or even mention it at all if you don’t want to, but – I think she wanted you to have something nice. And so did I.”

Arkady’s face did something complicated again, her mouth twisting into a half-smile. “She’s too perceptive for her own good,” she grumbled. “She’s cooking dinner for me, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Violet confirmed.

Arkady sighed, but it was the sigh of someone who was secretly pleased and trying to hide it. “Just so long as there’s no singing.” She lifted the plant slightly. “I’m gonna go put this in my room. Want to… come with? You can tell me all about how to take care of it.”

Violet snorted, bumping her shoulder lightly with Arkady’s as they walked towards Arkady’s room. “I can tell you about all the ways I nearly killed it before your birthday.”

“That works, too.”

#Violet Liu #TSCOSI #TSCOSI week #Arkady Patel #Sana Tripathi #Krejjh #I got really into the headcanon that Violet sucks at taking care of plants #because 1) it's hilarious #and 2) it makes a kind of sense with her 'you make plants grow in the middle of cold empty space' line #like she's extra in love with Arkady for that talent because she just can't do plants #I like plants a lot myself although I've never had to treat one with homemade bug spray so Google provided the details on that #ditto the UV light stuff #and I mean in canon they probably just have sun lamps installed throughout the ship so that no-one has to worry about Vitamin D deficiency #but that wouldn't be nearly as fun!

39 notes · View notes

whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Tuesday 13 November 1838

7 ¾

2 10

fine morning F55 ½° at 8 50 breakfast at 9 to 10 and sitting at the breakfast table reading Galignanis’ paper when Mrs. Sheldon came at 10 for 10 minutes to inquire the character of Josephine who, I said was a good lady’s maid and an excellent nurse, civil and obliging and always in the way – had paid all for me at Barèges, and I had always found her remarkably exact in her accounts – Mrs. S- dwelt much on honesty for which I vouched to the best of my conviction from 15 June last up to the present time – parted with her on account of being a Roman catholic too strict to go to my church at home – think her a valuable servant – Mrs. S- a [?] sort of person – said nothing to me about taking her – I should have fancied she would not take her, yet she went from my salon to Josephines’ little room and engaged her on condition of her leaving me this afternoon – saying I had told her I had got another! – I did not know this till coming in to dress – what a pother! explained – Josephine stays till we are off on Thursday – A- quite wrong harping on not being what she expected poor thing what can I do who will notice her as they do said as usual how sorry I was etc. etc. did the best I could etc. etc. it was my doing that we were together it was hers that we parted I hope this time I really shall get rid of her – A- and I out at 11 (the carriage had waited ½ hour) A- had declined saying more about Caroline Blint that I must please myself – off to Madame Langeland Rue des deux partes St. Jean n°2 – said I had considered the thing well over, and thought it too much to risk – the answer seemed the right one for all sides – Madame L- said Carlone wanted force d’âme – a great confidence in le bon dieu – spoke of herself and her losing her husband in 6 hours of cholera, and being left with 4 children and 30 francs – she 1st prayed for support, and then bestirred herself – she spoke simply and beautifully – and whom A-‘s sereinement de Cœur had I already opened to impressions of this sort, was attendrie, and without a word more than the bon jour hurried off – then to Crochard, and Guy . r. de l’ecole de medicine n°4 – the ear (simply) 60/. a head 140/. I think he said but very beautiful preparations – at rue St. V. at 1. A- so wrong that we really part this time or I make my own terms she says she never has her own way – if any note for me, George to come back with it immediately – and he did so – note from Madame de Bourke – better – hopes I will dine with her at six this evening – ordered George to be back with the carriage at 4 and Carré to dress my hair at 5 – A- took an inventory of furniture and kitchen things while I packed up in one of the carriage seat-boxes all my papers journal and extract books left here and looked over my trunk full of linen etc. etc. no carriage at 4 – at 4 20 A- and I set off – walked to the fiacre stand and fiacred it home from there at 4 55 – dressed – just setting off when Dr. Double came – asked him to come tomorrow evening and bring a written statement of A-‘s case – 6 ¼ or more before I reached Madame de Bourkes – Madame Grassini and Mr. le Dr. Magendie and 2 other gentlemen to meet me – Madame G- talked much and loud at dinner – the bible and the six days of creation all the gentlemen seeming infected with geological longings after countless time – Magendie turned to me, and said Cuvier etc. moquait bien de tout ce qu’il avait écirt (meaning about the day being a thousand years etc.) – Madame Grassini sang a little (wonderfully for her age) after

SH:7/ML/E/22/0066

dinner – coffee – she went away, and by and by Magendie – 1 or 2 others came in – tea at 9 – the carriage instead of coming at 9 ¾ came at 10 5 – home at 10 20 A- had sat up, and seemed glad to see me back – sat up talking till 11 20 – dullish finish day – then sat up in my room looking over books till 1 25 at which hour F57 ½°

6 notes · View notes

nwbeerguide · 2 years

Text

Supporting the Vancouver Mural Festival, Container Brewing and many "amazing partners" collaborate to release six uniquely designed Hazy IPAs, inside and out.

Press Release

image courtesy Container Brewing

Passion Project - Hazy IPA - 6.0% ABV

We were so happy to be part of the Vancouver Mural Festival last year and have an amazing mural put up on our wall that we wanted to give back as a way to thank them for choosing us.

So we approached our amazing partners at @greatlittlebox, @bsgcraft, @hopsconnect (who got us a neat new product from @yakimavalleyhops called SPECTRUM to use) and @vesselpackagingco_west to help create a beer that showcases the amazing art in our city while being able to give proceeds to the artists.

With their help, in that they donated the majority of the inputs to this beer, we produced what we believe to be a delicious brew for you to enjoy. You should feel good buying this one too, knowing that proceeds are going to @vanmuralfest to help them continue to grow and beautify our city with more art.

Collect all 4 cans, which is made easy since each 4-pack includes one of each can/art by @sitjichou, @joslynreid, @owomukishaka and @benjamintstone

About the beer: PASSION PROJECT - for this special brew, we took advantage of the natural passion fruit profile of the yeast and doubled down with a hearty addition of fresh passion fruit juice. We also didn’t skimp on the hops, resulting in a punchy, fruity, hazy thirst quencher that finishes slightly tart.

Available Wednesday in the lounge, online for home delivery Tuesday afternoon (including province wide shipping) via @craftco.ca and at the best liquor stores across the province starting Thursday!

Check cbrew.ca/wtb to find the closest store carrying our goods to ask if they’re bringing it in...and if they’re not, ask them why that is?! They must be crazy.

NB that this will be packaged in the 100% biodegradable, compostable, plastic-free @e6prs 4-pack rings, rather than our typical carton, to showcase the can art. Look for the art on the shelf and in the fridge, rather than our carton.

Click here to see and learn more…

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3FWRYkp

#Beer #News #Brewery

1 note · View note

newstfionline · 3 years

Text

Monday, September 20, 2021

Biden’s Entire Presidential Agenda Rests on Expansive Spending Bill (NYT) Biden’s entire presidential agenda is riding on the reconciliation bill being crafted in Congress right now. No president has ever packed as much of his agenda, domestic and foreign, into a single piece of legislation as President Biden has with the $3.5 trillion spending plan that Democrats are trying to wrangle through Congress over the next six weeks,” Tankersley writes. “It is almost as if President Franklin D. Roosevelt had stuffed his entire New Deal into one piece of legislation, or if President Lyndon B. Johnson had done the same with his Great Society, instead of pushing through individual components over several years. If he succeeds, Biden’s far-reaching attempt could result in a presidency-defining victory that delivers on a decades-long campaign by Democrats to expand the federal government to combat social problems and spread the gains of a growing economy to workers. If he fails, he could end up with nothing. As Democrats are increasingly seeing, the sheer weight of Mr. Biden’s progressive push could cause it to collapse, leaving the party empty-handed, with the president’s top priorities going unfulfilled. … If Mr. Biden’s party cannot find consensus on those issues and the bill dies, the president will have little immediate recourse to advance almost any of those priorities.

Child care in the US is a ‘broken market,’ Treasury report finds (Yahoo Money) A Treasury Department report this week characterized the U.S. child care system as “unworkable” as Democrats push reform that experts say is an “overdue and critical investment.” The average American family with at least one child under age 5 uses 13% of their income to pay for child care, according to the report, nearly double the 7% that the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services considers affordable. Additionally, less than 20% of the children eligible for the Child Care and Development Fund—a federal assistance program for low-income families—are getting that funding. “Child care is a textbook example of a broken market, and one reason is that when you pay for it, the price does not account for all the positive things it confers on our society,” Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen said in a statement on Wednesday. “When we underinvest in child care, we forgo that; we give up a happier, healthier, more prosperous labor force in the future.”

Inspiration4 Astronauts Beam After Return From 3-Day Journey to Orbit (NYT) After three days in orbit, a physician assistant, a community college professor, a data engineer and the billionaire who financed their trip arrived back on Earth, heralding a new era of space travel with a dramatic and successful Saturday evening landing in the Atlantic Ocean. The mission, which is known as Inspiration4, splashed down off the Florida coast at 7:06 p.m. on Saturday. Each step of the return unfolded on schedule, without problems. Within an hour, all four crew members walked out of the spacecraft, one at a time, each beaming with excitement as recovery crews assisted them.

Haitians on Texas border undeterred by US plan to expel them (AP) Haitian migrants seeking to escape poverty, hunger and a feeling of hopelessness in their home country said they will not be deterred by U.S. plans to speedily send them back, as thousands of people remained encamped on the Texas border Saturday after crossing from Mexico. Scores of people waded back and forth across the Rio Grande on Saturday afternoon, re-entering Mexico to purchase water, food and diapers in Ciudad Acuña before returning to the Texas encampment under and near a bridge in the border city of Del Rio. Junior Jean, a 32-year-old man from Haiti, watched as people cautiously carried cases of water or bags of food through the knee-high river water. Jean said he lived on the streets in Chile the past four years, resigned to searching for food in garbage cans. “We are all looking for a better life,” he said.

Three Weeks After Hurricane Ida, Parts of Southeast Louisiana Are Still Dark (NYT) For Tiffany Brown, the drive home from New Orleans begins as usual: She can see the lights on in the city’s central business district and people gathering in bars and restaurants. But as she drives west along Interstate 10, signs of Hurricane Ida’s destruction emerge. Trees with missing limbs fill the swamp on either side of the highway. With each passing mile, more blue tarps appear on rooftops, and more electric poles lay fallen by the road, some snapped in half. By the time Ms. Brown gets to her exit in Destrehan 30 minutes later, the lights illuminating the highway have disappeared, and another night of total darkness has fallen on her suburban subdivision. For Ms. Brown, who works as an office manager at a pediatric clinic, life at work can feel nearly normal. But at home, with no electricity, it is anything but. “I keep hoping every day that I’m going to go home and it’ll be on,” she said. Three weeks have passed since Hurricane Ida knocked down electric wires, poles and transmission towers serving more than one million people in southeast Louisiana. In New Orleans, power was almost entirely restored by Sept. 10, and businesses and schools have reopened. But outside the city, more than 100,000 customers were without lights through Sept. 13. As of Friday evening there were still about 38,000 customers without power, and many people remained displaced from damaged homes.

Favela centennial shows Brazil communities’ endurance (AP) Dozens of children lined up at a community center in Sao Paulo for a slice of creamy, blue cake. None was celebrating a birthday; their poor neighborhood, the favela of Paraisopolis, was commemorating 100 years of existence. “People started coming (to the city) for construction jobs and settled in,” community leader Gilson Rodrigues said. “There was no planning, not even streets. People started growing crops. It was all disorganized. Authorities didn’t do much, so we learned to organize ourselves.” The favela’s centennial, which was marked on Thursday, underscores the permanence of its roots and of other communities like it, even as Brazilians in wealthier parts of town often view them as temporary and precarious. Favelas struggle to shed that stigma as they defy simple definition, not least because they evolved over decades. Paraisopolis is Sao Paulo’s second-biggest favela, home to 43,000 people, according to the most-recent census, in 2010. Recent, unofficial counts put its population around 100,000.

The barbecue king: British royals praise Philip’s deft touch (AP) When Prince Philip died nearly six months ago at 99, the tributes poured in from far and wide, praising him for his supportive role at the side of Queen Elizabeth II over her near 70-year reign. Now, it has emerged that Philip had another crucial role within the royal family. He was the family’s barbecue king—perhaps testament to his Greek heritage. “He adored barbecuing and he turned that into an interesting art form,” his oldest son Prince Charles said in a BBC tribute program that will be broadcast on Wednesday. “And if I ever tried to do it he ... I could never get the fire to light or something ghastly, so (he’d say): ‘Go away!’” In excerpts of ‘Prince Philip: The Royal Family Remembers’ released late Saturday, members of the royal family spoke admiringly of the late Duke of Edinburgh’s barbecuing skills. “Every barbecue that I’ve ever been on, the Duke of Edinburgh has been there cooking,” said Prince William, Philip’s oldest grandson. “He’s definitely a dab hand at the barbecue ... I can safely say there’s never been a case of food poisoning in the family that’s attributed to the Duke of Edinburgh.” The program, which was filmed before and after Philip’s death on April 9, was originally conceived to mark his 100th birthday in June.

Relations between France and the U.S. have sunk to their lowest level in decades. (NYT) The U.S. and Australia went to extraordinary lengths to keep Paris in the dark as they secretly negotiated a plan to build nuclear submarines, scuttling a defense contract worth at least $60 billion. President Emmanuel Macron of France was so enraged that he recalled the country’s ambassadors to both nations. Australia approached the new administration soon after President Biden’s inauguration. The conventionally powered French subs, the Australians feared, would be obsolete by the time they were delivered. The Biden administration, bent on containing China, saw the deal as a way to cement ties with a Pacific ally. But the unlikely winner is Britain, who played an early role in brokering the alliance. For its prime minister, Boris Johnson, who will meet this coming week with Biden at the White House and speak at the U.N., it is his first tangible victory in a campaign to make post-Brexit Britain a player on the global stage.

Hong Kong’s first ‘patriots-only’ election kicks off (Reuters) Fewer than 5,000 Hong Kong people from mostly pro-establishment circles began voting on Sunday for candidates to an election committee, vetted as loyal to Beijing, who will pick the city’s next China-backed leader and some of its legislature. Pro-democracy candidates are nearly absent from Hong Kong’s first election since Beijing overhauled the city’s electoral system to ensure that “only patriots” rule China’s freest city. The election committee will select 40 seats in the revamped Legislative Council in December, and choose a chief executive in March. Changes to the political system are the latest in a string of moves—including a national security law that punishes anything Beijing deems as subversion, secession, terrorism or collusion with foreign forces—that have placed the international financial hub on an authoritarian path. Most prominent democratic activists and politicians are now in jail or have fled abroad.

The Remote-Control Killing Machine (Politico/NYT) For 14 years, Israel wanted to kill Iran’s top nuclear scientist. Then they came up with a way to do it while using a trained sniper who was more than 1,000 miles away—and fired remotely. It was also the debut test of a high-tech, computerized sharpshooter kitted out with artificial intelligence and multiple-camera eyes, operated via satellite and capable of firing 600 rounds a minute. The souped-up, remote-controlled machine gun now joins the combat drone in the arsenal of high-tech weapons for remote targeted killing. But unlike a drone, the robotic machine gun draws no attention in the sky, where a drone could be shot down, and can be situated anywhere, qualities likely to reshape the worlds of security and espionage.

Israeli army arrests last 2 of 6 Palestinian prison escapees (AP) Israeli forces on Sunday arrested the last two of six Palestinian prisoners who escaped a maximum-security Israeli prison two weeks ago, closing an intense, embarrassing episode that exposed deep security flaws in Israel and turned the fugitives into Palestinian heroes. The Israeli military said the two men surrendered in Jenin, their hometown in the occupied West Bank, after they were surrounded at a hideout that had been located with the help of “accurate intelligence.” The prisoners all managed to tunnel out of a maximum-security prison in northern Israel on Sept. 6. The bold escape dominated newscasts for days and sparked heavy criticism of Israel’s prison service. According to various reports, the men dug a hole in the floor of their shared cell undetected over several months and managed to slip past a sleeping prison guard after emerging through a hole outside the facility. Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza Strip have celebrated the escape and held demonstrations in support of the prisoners. Taking part in attacks against the Israeli military or even civilians is a source of pride for many Palestinians, who view it as legitimate resistance to military occupation.

Jaw-dropping moments in WSJ's bombshell Facebook investigation (CNN Business) This week the Wall Street Journal released a series of scathing articles about Facebook, citing leaked internal documents that detail in remarkably frank terms how the company is not only well aware of its platforms’ negative effects on users but also how it has repeatedly failed to address them. Here are some of the more jaw-dropping moments from the Journal’s series. In the Journal’s report on Instagram’s impact on teens, it cites Facebook’s own researchers’ slide deck, stating the app harms mental health. “We make body image issues worse for one in three teen girls,” said one slide from 2019, according to the WSJ. Another reads: “Teens blame Instagram for increases in the rate of anxiety and depression ... This reaction was unprompted and consistent across all groups.” In 2018, Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg said a change in Facebook’s algorithm was intended to improve interactions among friends and family and reduce the amount of professionally produced content in their feeds. But according to the documents published by the Journal, staffers warned the change was having the opposite effect: Facebook was becoming an angrier place. A team of data scientists put it bluntly: “Misinformation, toxicity and violent content are inordinately prevalent among reshares,” they said, according to the Journal’s report.

#headlines #news

3 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

02 | upside down; steve harrington

Notes:

I suck so bad. I meant to post these before I left to go on my little trip and life got hella busy. But, I didn't get around to it. BUT BUT.. I am now. They're not really that edited, so yeah. I was happy with what came out, despite this turning out to not be a slow burn type thing at all like I originally wanted. So for all those hoping for a slow burn, oopsies?

OH.. And before I forget, chapters one, two, three and potentially four take place BEFORE the actual series starts. ;P

Summary:

She moves back to Hawkins and manages to turn his life completely upside down. In the best of ways.

But how will everything play out between them? Also, can they handle all the weirdness ahead? We shall see.

Warnings:

LOOSE CANON COMPLIANCE AT BEST, TOTAL DEVIATION AT WORST - this is just an up front catch all because sometimes, things happen that I don’t particularly care for (the senseless death of Barb, anybody?) and if you’re one of those canon only people, this is here to warn you that this is not the fic for you. LANGUAGE, OCCASIONAL GORE, MONSTERS / FANTASY ELEMENTS, TEENAGE DRAMA AND SHENANIGANS - Obviously, teenagers are going to do stuff. They’re at that point in their life where not every decision they make is the best one. So if you’d rather skip over this kind of thing (teen drinking, fighting, etc) then yeah.. you’ve been warned. THIS IS NOT A SLOW BURN, I REPEAT NOT SLOW AT ALL / EVENTUAL FILTHY GOOD NESS - because lets be real.. we’re all wondering when we’re gonna drop the plot and get to the good stuff. When this chapter occurs, I will flair it with an M. In the meantime, if you’re not into slow burn or mutual pining, then you’re probably not going to care about this.

Other Parts

[ SOUNDTRACK | part one]

Other Stuff

[ FAQ - TAG LIST DOC ]

Tagging:

There’s nobody on my list yet but… If you wanna be tagged for this, tell me pls. It will make me overjoyed.

Throwing out a no pressure tag to @RAMPAGEWRITING and @TWISTNET as well as @CHASINGEVERYBREAKINGWAVE just because. No pressure though bbies!

TWO.

Monday came with no sign of Steve. Then Tuesday. By Wednesday, I felt like I was about to lose my mind. Still no sign of him.

It was now Thursday afternoon. And honestly, I’d put the whole thing out of my head. Started to convince myself that I’d been right about Steve Harrington and his intentions after all. Nana Ginger had gotten Jonathan to come and help out by bussing tables in the dining area for an hour or two so I could go over the books for her with no interruptions. When I caught sight of Steve’s silver BMW pulling into the parking lot, I was perched atop the counter in the gas station doing just that.

With Billy Idol blasting quietly from a little boombox nearby.

I raised a brow when instead of coming in like usual, Steve wandered around back. Out to where Nana's boyfriend Hank was working in bay 3 of the garage behind the place.

“Oh. Oh no. Steve, why the hell…” I muttered to myself. Sitting the ledger to the side as I tiptoed carefully to the door that lead out into the garage from the front of the buildings attached. I pressed my ear against it, trying to listen.

All I could really make out was Hank laughing out loud. And Steve asking what was so funny about what he’d apparently asked. Then Hank telling him verbatim, that he didn’t know if he could trust him as far as he could throw him while pointing out that he’d been a teenage boy once too and that he knew exactly where this was all heading.

My breath caught in my throat. I waited on Steve to offer some form of rebuttal. Seconds later, he finally did. “ You’re actually completely wrong about me, sir. With all due respect.”

“If you can get her to say yes to a date in the first place, kid, by all means. But if you hurt her, you’re not gonna have anywhere to hide. We clear, kid?” Hank said this as loud and as plain as day. Clearly enough I could hear it completely through the door separating the two areas.

Steve muttered something else I couldn’t quite hear and in a mad scramble that had Jonathan nearly doubling over in laughter, I was trying to perch myself back on top of the counter at the front of the gas station. Balancing the ledger on my lap. Trying to force myself to concentrate on running numbers.

My reading glasses started to slip down the bridge of my nose and swearing, I pushed them back up. Eventually taking them off to unfocus my eyes and give them a little relief from strain. Jonathan spoke up from nearby.

“Hear anything interesting just now, Jen?” he gave me a teasing smirk and I grumbled, playfully flipping him off as I gave a soft smile. I nodded. “Yeah. I guess I have to at least consider saying yes to Harrington’s constant asking me out. I mean… takes a brave guy to talk to Hank.”

“You’re definitely not wrong there.” Jonathan muttered, chuckling quietly. Digging around in the pocket of his apron and tossing me a cassette tape. Smirking. “I made it during the countdown last night.”

“Oh?” I turned the cassette over in my hands, smiling. “I’ll put it in right now, give it a listen while I’m doing the rest of the books. Hey, do you need somebody to give Will a lift to Mike’s on Saturday?”

“If you don’t mind?” Jonathan asked.

“Not at all.” I grinned, adding quickly, “I’m supposed to drop Dustin Henderson off there too. Figured since they’re going to the same place and I’m gonna hang out with Nancy for a while, why not?”

“Thank you.” Jonathan gave a grateful smile and an idea kind of formed. I smiled and mentioned casually, “Ya know, Jon.. If you really want to thank me.. You could talk to Nancy sometime.”

Jonathan eyed me with a raised brow. I held out his mixtape and added, “She loves The Clash.”

“Really?” his brow raised.

“Just take my word for it, Byers.”

“ You’re sure you don’t mind me giving her this?”

“Why would I? I told you to, silly.” I laughed, shaking my head. Jonathan was being called to the back dining area again by my Nana, so he hurried off and I stood, stretching. Slinking down the aisles of the gas station, over to a cooler.

I grabbed myself a Diet Pepsi and dug around in my pocket for the money to put in the register to cover it. Once I’d popped the top against the counter, I settled back on top of it, getting back to balancing the books.

I heard a throat clearing from the doors about ten minutes later. The smell of cheeseburger and french fries wafted straight to my nose, making me groan quietly as my eyes fixed on Steve and then promptly lowered to the grease stained brown paper bag he held in his hands as he grinned at me, nodding to the glasses perched on my nose.

“Fuck.” I scrambled to take them off. Steve stepped into the gas station completely, walking towards me. A teasing gleam in his eyes as he shook his head. Stopping on the other side of the counter, in front of me. “You don’t have to do that, Jennie. I’ve seen you wearing glasses before, remember? The red framed ones you had in kindergarten.”

I cringed, laughing a little. Leaning in slightly. Gazing at him almost helplessly as the bits of conversation I’d overheard between him and Hank out in the garage earlier replaying in my head.

Remembering that tonight, if he asked me on a date yet again, I was going to say yes. And not just because of some silly dare given to me by Barb and Nancy. Because I couldn’t keep fighting Steve Harrington off the way I had been if I wanted to, to begin with.

I was leaning closer where I sat. It occurred to me when Steve chuckled quietly. Stepping between my legs, the way they dangled over the counter on his side. He sat the grease stained paper bag to the side and he bit his lip, gazing up at me.

“Your grandma told me to come and drag you out of here. She told me to tell you not to worry about waiting the tables, she’s trying to help Jonathan get some extra cash on the side. She also said don’t argue.” Steve flashed me another one of those charmer grins and I swallowed hard. My mouth opened and closed for a second or two because I just couldn’t think of anything clever to say. Weird, because normally, I have plenty to say. Constantly.

Out of habit, my fingers drifted up to the dainty cursive nameplate that hung on the silver chain around my neck. I toyed with the lettering as I pretended to mull it over, just to be slightly difficult.

So I could feel better about giving in when I inevitably did.

“C’mon, Jennie.” Steve pleaded. Eyes locked on mine. Gaze dropping briefly to my lips and lingering there just long enough that I could feel my breath when it caught in my throat.

I finally managed to get my mouth and brain working in tandem and licking my lips as I gazed at him, I muttered quietly, “It’s Jen.”

“Maybe I like Jennie better.” Steve leaned in just a little. A teasing gleam in his eye and a flirty tone to his voice as it dropped lower. Quieter.

And when Hank’s throat cleared from the door between the garage and the front of the building, I wanted to puddle into a pile of goo in the linoleum tile.

“Interruptin somethin, Jaybird?” he asked the question so casually.

Steve looked like a deer in headlights. He pulled away just a little and despite myself, I pouted.

Satisfied that he’d interrupted things between Steve and I, Hank smirked a little, dragging an oil stained hand over shaggy brown and gray hair. Gazing at us both. Giving Steve that universal gesture that clearly spelled out “I’m watching you, kid.” before going to a cooler to grab himself a six pack of beer, counting out the correct change in bills and coins and handing them to me.

I grabbed hold of Hank’s hand. “Nana is gonna have a fit. I know that’s not super glue I see holdin skin together, sir.”

“It is, Jaybird. Because if I don’t get that damned Chrysler off my lift, I’m gonna burn her to the ground.”

“Oh Hank.” I shook my head, clucking my tongue at him. Digging around for antiseptic and a bandage, holding it out to him expectantly as he withdrew his hand. He chuckled and shook his head. “It’ll be fine, kid.” he waved away the antiseptic and the bandage and made his way into the garage area again, making me shake my head.

Taking the time to pull myself together decently enough that I wasn’t a stammering mess when I glanced at Steve again.

“C’mon. Please?” he asked again.

I tapped my chin, pretending to think about it. Slipping off the counter. By this time, he’d stepped in close all over again, so me slipping off the counter had us body to body. His hand settled in the curve of my hip and I barely restrained a gasp.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll leave with you.”

He grinned brightly. Holding the door open for me after I clocked out and placed my timecard in the slot with my name on it. I ducked my head into the dining area and my Nana’s only response was to smirk and wink at me. Shooing me out of the diner.

“Get her outta my hair, kid!” my Nana smiled as she called out to Steve, who was standing right behind me. His hand at my lower back. The second I realized this, I could feel myself burning up all over. Just the simplest touch.. Felt comforting. Intimate. And me, being of dirty mind, well.. Me and my dirty mind, we took that and ran.

Jesus Christ, of all the times for my hormones to manifest, it’s now? When I’m trying to break 2 prior generations of questionable romantic choices? I wanted to shake my head at myself. I reminded myself calmly that just because my Nana and my mom did the things they did, that didn’t mean I had to cave in and repeat. I am my own person, after all. And apparently right now, that person is giddy with… Thoughts.

“Gladly, ma’am!” Steve called back, laughing.

He pushed open the door and we stepped outside. When he opened the passenger door, I sank down into the seat, leaning back against it a little. Steve wandered around to the driver side, getting into the car. Starting it.

“Where are you taking me?”

He chuckled. “ I think you’ll like it.”

“Steve.” I pouted, “A hint?”

“It’s outside.” was literally all he’d tell me.

“Well that really narrows it down.” I teased with a laugh.

He parked at this old park we all used to play at after school. Just as the sun was starting to go down.

We got out, wandering over to an old picnic table. Sitting on top of it, digging around in the bag for our food.

“So.. That dumb carnival is this weekend. Starts tomorrow night, I think.” Steve hinted after a few minutes. I nodded to where carnival workers were already setting up a midway a few feet away from us. Taking a bite of my burger, I mentioned casually, “I thought about going. But Nancy’s grounded again and Barb’s got that date with some guy Logan.”

“You could go with me.” Steve chuckled as he said it.

I smiled, taking another bite. “I could.”

“Would you?” he asked a few seconds later. Adding quickly, “Tonight isn’t a real date. Tomorrow. That would be.” flashing me that charmer smirk.

I nodded. Smiling as I spoke up. “ Yeah. I will. Hey… since I don’t have to go back to the diner…” before trailing off and gazing down at my legs . Reminding myself to have boundaries and restraint. But all the mental reminders in the world just weren’t cutting it. At all.

He reached out, curling his fingers beneath my chin. Making me look up at him. “What were you going to say, Jennie? You can tell me.” he coaxed. Biting his lip as he gazed at me intently.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go swimming with me. There’s this little place out by my Nana’s out in the woods I go to swim…” I gave a soft laugh. I had to laugh at myself, it was pretty much all I could do.

Look at me. Going overboard.

“Yeah.” he nodded, smiling. We finished our food, and after, we wound up driving around a little. And about an hour later found us walking through the woods. Well, he was walking, glancing around warily, swatting at spider webs that he almost walked into a time or two and I had hold of his hand, practically dragging the poor guy.

We stepped out onto the sandy bank and he chuckled. Dragging his hand through his hair as he gazed down at me. “We don’t have suits or towels.” he mused, stepping closer to me. Staring me down all over again. I could feel my breath as it caught in my throat because if you want me to be honest?

I hadn’t thought this through properly. And was now freaking out silently. Just a little bit.

But I did my best to shove that out of my head and play it cool and calm. I went for turning it around on him, hoping to fluster him like his observation had flustered me just now.

“I know Mr. Lady Killer��s not worried about somebody seeing him in his Calvins.” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him. He chuckled. Going for his shirt, tugging it over his head. Letting it settle on a branch nearby without tearing his eyes off me for a single second as he did it.

“Did that look worried to you, Jennie?” he muttered, stepping closer. His hand at my hip as he gazed down at me. Waiting.

I cleared my throat, gesturing for him to turn around. He did, but as he did so, he joked that I was the one who was worried. Which to me, sounded like a challenge. So I tapped his shoulder so he’d turn around after lowering my shirt.

He eyed me, a brow raised.

“Challenging me, Steve?” I questioned, giving him an amused laugh as I reached down, tugging my shirt up and over my head. Letting it settle on the branch next to his polo shirt.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath and muttered something to himself, closing the distance between us. His hand settled on my hip again and he laughed quietly. Leaning down a little bit so that we were face to face, his forehead against mine and one of his hands cradling my face.

My heart was pounding. Hard and fast. So fast that I thought it might break out of my chest. I went to lick my own lips and my tongue brushed against his mouth. His fingers dug into my hip lightly and he muttered huskily, “ I see you still can’t turn down a dare, Jennie.” only half teasing. I shrugged, biting my lip as I gazed up at him. Trailing my fingers over his chest mostly just so I could ignore the way my hands were shaking and I was wet, getting wetter by the second. I glanced over my shoulder and nodded at the water. “If we’re going to swim, we should get in.”

Steve cleared his throat, nodding hastily. Stepping away, bending to tug off his sneakers and nearly tumbling over in the process. Making me giggle softly as I pulled off my boots. When my pocketknife and my mom’s old lighter fell out, he eyed me and then nodded to the items on the ground.

“A knife?”

“A girl’s gotta be prepared.” I shrugged it off. Steve tugged down his jeans and while I told myself I wasn’t going to peek or stare, I wound up failing at this miserably and got so distracted watching him that he was able to turn around my own words on me as soon as he kicked his jeans free at the ankle.

“If we’re going to swim, Jennie… we should get in.” he gave me a playful smirk as he said it, stepping closer all over again.

My hand shook as I lowered it to the button on my cut offs. As soon as I’d shed those, I took off for the water full speed. Nearly tripping on a stump in the hill leading down to the water. Steve’s arms shot out and he caught me, pulling me back upright. Pulling me hard enough that when he did, I found myself pressed against him completely.

He chuckled quietly, raising a hand. Pulling a leaf free from my hair.

“The water’s not going anywhere, Jennie.”

“I know.” I answered, my breath catching in my throat when our mouths brushed against each other’s just a little more with each word spoken. His fingers dug into my hip a little more and he took a shaky breath, asking the question quietly, “If I kissed you right now…”

My heart was hammering away in my chest but I managed to answer, “I dare you, Steve...No… I triple dare you.”. The hand he’d placed on my hip was tangled in the hair at the back of my head, pulling my mouth all the way against his mouth. His tongue swept out, outlining and then parting my lips. Massaging my tongue. Slow. Deep. Savoring the moment, even after we both clearly started to get light-headed from lack of actual oxygen. His hand moved up and down my body, settling on my lower back. Pulling me up to tiptoe slightly. The kiss broke long enough for both of us to properly breathe and then his mouth found mine again.

When it finally broke completely, Steve dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. Taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah.” he chuckled to himself.

I raised a brow. “Hm?”

“That was exactly how I thought it’d feel.” he mused, adding quietly, “Wow.”

My stomach churned and I tensed up a little. He chuckled, shaking his head. Placing his lips against my forehead. “It’s not a bad thing. Not at all. I mean.. It wasn’t for me?” he was the one who looked anxious now.

I muttered quietly, “ I definitely wouldn’t mind a repeat. A few repeats, actually, if I’m being honest.” while still quietly reeling from the intensity of it all. Melting myself against him, my fingers dancing slow over his chest. He sucked in a breath, catching hold of my hand. Tilting my chin so that I had to look up at him.

“You’re blushing.” Steve was teasing gently. Rolling his thumb over my bottom lip, leaving it quivering.

“I’m not!” I pretended to be offended by what he said, pouting a little. But I knew I was, I could feel my cheeks burning hot. I stepped away and turned my back, taking off at a run down the hill. Hitting the cool water with a loud and obnoxious splash. Steve dove in behind me, swimming over. Surfacing behind me and pressing against me from behind. I turned to face him and when he splashed me and dove out of the way, I sent up an obnoxious spray of water in his direction, making him yelp because he hadn’t been expecting it.

After about an hour of swimming around and walking the creek down further, we made our way back up to the bank, flopping onto the sand.

My restraint was well out the window by now. If I even thought for a second I was going to fight off the magnetic pull I felt to Steve, I was mistaken and I knew that now. I settled my head on his shoulder and he looped an arm around me, and we lounged around lazily, watching the sky get darker and darker.

Talking. A lot.

I realized that it had to be getting late and I sprang up, holding out my hand. Steve grabbed hold, pulling himself up. After we’d gotten redressed, we wandered up the hill and out of the woods, over to where he’d parked his car at the end of my nana’s driveway..

When he went to walk me up to my front door, we wound up body to body. My arms raised, settling around his neck. My back met the front door and he pulled me into another long and drawn out deep kiss that had us both breathless when it broke.

“Kind of don’t want tonight to end.” he admitted as he gazed down at me. I nodded, definitely agreeing. “Me either.” I admitted quietly, muttering the words against his lips. The porch light started to flicker like crazy and I smiled into the kiss, wiping my mouth as I finally managed to pull away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Steve asked, reminding me that I’d agreed to go to the carnival in town with him. I smiled and nodded. Pausing in the doorway of my grandmother’s house to steal another quick kiss before finally making myself go inside.

I leaned against the door, pulling myself together and my Nana called out from the kitchen, “Well? How did it go, Jennie Bird?”

I wandered into the kitchen, sinking down in a chair at her kitchen table. Smirking at her as all I did to answer her endless stream of questions was to shrug.

“You’re no fun, girl. No fun at all. I wanted to hear juicy details.” my nana reached out, pulling a leaf from my wet hair, holding it at me, smirking as she did so. “Any reason you’re all wet and dazed, bringing half the forest up in my house?”

“We went for a swim down at the creek.”

“Mhm.” my nana teased, laughing softly. “I know you’ll use your head. God knows one of us Brown women needs to, neither me or your mama, god rest her, could ever manage it.” she nodded to the phone on the wall by the doorway. “Might wanna call Nan and Barb. They’ve been calling all afternoon, wondering where you were. They both told me tell you they wanted full details.”

“No listening from upstairs, Nana.” I teased as she shrugged. “Makin no promises, Jennie Bird. You know me. I’m a nosy old broad.”

I grabbed the phone and managed to make the cord stretch to the living room, where I sprawled out on the old couch, legs over the back, telling Nancy and then Barb everything that happened that afternoon.

At one point, while I was talking to Nancy, I smiled to myself when she went into a good ten minutes of gushing over Jonathan walking her home from the library earlier. And giving her a mixed tape.

To be fair, it’s about time he finally talked to her. I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to shove them both in a closet and walk away.

“So… how’d it go with you and Steve tonight?”

“So many sparks.” I gave a dreamy sigh as I spoke, making Nancy laugh. Toying with the necklace and smiling softly to myself as I continued, “ Between you and me? I needed the dip in the cold water…”

“You went swimming?”

“Mhm.” I answered, taking a deep breath. “He’s taking me to the carnival downtown tomorrow night.”

“Oh my god. Get out. Really?” Nancy laughed.

I rolled onto my stomach, twisting the phone cord around my fingertip. Laughing softly as I explained exactly what transpired when Steve showed up at the diner earlier. By the end of it, Nancy let out a low whistle. “He really sacrificed himself to Hank.”

“Mhm. Left me with no option but to say yes. We know how my nana’s boyfriend is. It takes… a brave one to even attempt that.”

“Confession… I may or may not be meeting Jonathan at the carnival tomorrow night too. And Barb mentioned earlier that she’s going to come to it after the movie ends over at the theater, with Logan.”

“Group date?” I asked, giving a giggle. Raking my fingers through my hair as I reached for the Diet Tab I’d gotten myself before grabbing the phone, taking a sip of it.

“Yes. Group date indeed.” Nancy answered. I could hear her mother yelling at her to hang up, and I let her go, calling Barb.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you are not going to believe what happened to me this afternoon, Barb.”

“Your nana told us you left with Steve earlier. How’d that go?” Barb asked in a teasing tone. “I told you he liked you, you realize this, right?” she added.

“All I’m saying is I needed that swim to cool me down. I needed it badly.” I giggled. Agreeing reluctantly when she reminded me that she’d been telling me he liked me all month long. I rolled onto my back, twisting the cord around my fingers again. “Hey, are you and Logan gonna stop by the carnival after your movie?”

“Yeah! Did Nancy tell you? I told her to tell you so we could all meet up or something.”

“I am dying for funnel cake. And maybe getting stuck at the top of the Ferris Wheel like some cliche romance novel…” I muttered, giving a soft laugh at the end.

“Aww how cute!” Barb teased.

I took a few more sips of my diet Tab and smiled to myself. Excited about tomorrow night. Barb spoke up again, “Wait… you said you and Steve went swimming…”

“We did.”

“What was that like?”

“Oh, it was interesting. Very,very interesting.”

“You’re no fun girl!” my Nana’s voice cut through the call and I groaned inwardly, lowering the phone to call up the stairs to my Nana in her room, “Seriously?”

Barb was laughing. After my nana hung up, we talked a little more and I told her about Steve going out to the garage. WIth all the tools. And my nana’s boyfriend Hank… to ask him if he could take me on a date.

“He did? And he’s alive? How?”

“I don’t know, actually. Hank’s always giving him shit when he comes into the diner, I did not see it going the way it did. But.. I’m glad it did. Ah, I had such a good time tonight.”

“He’d better be good to you or I’m coming for his knee caps.” Barb teased, going quiet for a few seconds. Her mom must have come to her door to tell her she needed to use the phone, because she had to get off. After I ended the call with her, I wandered up to my room, falling across my bed.

What.A.Night.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagines #my writing ; steve harrington #my fics ; steve harrington #my fanfics ; steve harrington

9 notes · View notes

josjournal · 4 years

Text

Full Moon Ficlet #380 - Essay

Written for @fullmoonficlet

Stiles stumbled into his dorm room late one Friday night near the end of the semester, surprised to see his roommate sitting at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard of his laptop. “What’s up?” he asked, attempting to pull his hoodie off without unzipping it and getting stuck.

He was never going out drinking with Scott again; it never ended well for him and he usually ended up catching an Uber back to the dorm while Scott went off with some young co-ed. He blinked his eyes against the light when his hoodie was yanked from his arms, Isaac’s face appearing fond yet exasperated.

“You finished the essay for Art Appreciation, right?” he asked Stiles.

“Yeah..the one about the use of watercolors versus oils,” he mumbled as he tried to kick off his shoes and ended up falling backward onto the bed staring up at the ceiling.

“No, the descriptive essay,” Isaac corrected. “It was assigned in class yesterday, the class you missed because you were finishing the assignment for your World Folklore class. The assignment I put on your desk and reminded you about five or six different times in the last twenty-four hours. The essay that’s due in,” he looked at the time on his laptop, “less than two hours.”

Stiles lifted his head from the bed, the room spinning as he gaped at Isaac; he had not even started the essay he was talking about. Shoving himself to stand, he rubbed his hands together. He could bullshit an amazing essay in two hours. Not a problem.

He dropped down at his desk and opened his laptop, the colors of the screen bright against his still-not-sober eyes. Leaning back, he reached into the minifridge next to his bed and pulled out a bottle of water and an energy drink. He downed the energy drink and started sipping on the water as he typed.

He managed to finish the essay with ten minutes to spare and sent it off without double-checking it beyond what Grammarly caught for him. As soon as he hit send, he dropped onto his bed and passed out, the essay already forgotten.

Monday afternoon, Stiles was sitting in the student union eating curly fries and working on an assignment for his Statistics class when an email notification popped up in the corner of his screen. It was from Derek Hale, the graduate assistant that taught his section of Art Appreciation plus the star of many of Stiles’ masturbatory fantasies. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten an email from him, Derek sent out emails occasionally announcing art installations that the class might be interested in, but the subject of this email was: Office Hours.

Opening the email, he saw it was addressed only to him:

Mr. Stilinski,

I have office hours today from 2 until 4. Please come see me to discuss your descriptive essay.

D. Hale

Checking his phone, he saw that it was just after two so he packed up his books and headed over to the Arts building, curiosity peaked as he tried to remember the essay. It was a bit foggy except that he’d been rushed and drunk. He just hoped he’d picked a decent piece of art to write about.

The door to Derek’s office was open and he knocked on the door frame. Derek looked up from his desk and Stiles froze. Sitting on his face were a pair of dark thick-rimmed glasses that he’d never seen before and somehow made his already beautiful eyes glow. “You wanted to see me?” he said when he caught his breath. “About my essay?”

“Er, yes,” Derek said, shuffling papers and Stiles thought he saw pink on the tips of his ears, but chalked it up to the heat of the building. “It wasn’t up to your normal standards, so I wanted to give you a chance to revise before I finalize the grade.”

He winced. “That bad, huh?”

“Well, it was definitely descriptive,” he said, handing over a printed copy of the paper and Stiles took it from him, scanning the pages.

He’d chosen to describe the statue of David and he started off pretty well, staying factual on materials used and details. The more he read, the more the coherency of his writing declined. He was already feeling embarrassed for turning it in when he reached the last line: The Statue of David is Derek Hale immortalized in marble down to every last detail.

“Um…”

“Yeah,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can have until class begins tomorrow to revise it.”

Stiles nodded. “Definitely. I’m so sorry-”

Derek held up a hand. “It’s mostly a compliment.”

“I’m sure my exhausted, drunken brain meant it that way,” Stiles assured, feeling his own cheeks burning.

“Although, there is one detail where it might not be accurate.”

“The hair, right? I mean, obviously you aren’t that curly,” Stiles said, gathering his things together.

“I was thinking a bit lower,” Derek said, standing from his desk and Stiles’ eyes traveled over him.

“Pecs. Check. Abs. Check.” Stiles looked back up into his eyes and Derek raised his eyebrows at him and flicked his gaze down again. He followed his glance to find Derek had hooked his hands into his front pockets, pulling the fabric tight against himself. “So...what’s the policy on grad students fraternizing with students in their sections?” he asked without looking up until Derek chuckled.

“It’s frowned upon,” he responded and Stiles’ heart fell until Derek’s lips curled into a smirk. “However, as of next Thursday, you’ll no longer be in my section.”

“So...?”

“So, Friday night, seven o’clock, Antoni’s Pizza?” Derek asked, leaning over the desk to slide a piece of paper with a phone number over to him. Stiles mirrored him until their noses almost touched. “Work for you?”

“Definitely,” Stiles said, smirking and licking his lips before grabbing the slip of paper and darting out of the office, already counting down the minutes.

Cross-posted to AO3

#sterek #eternalsterek #fullmoonficlet #my writing

52 notes · View notes

mitchbeck · 8 months

Text

HARTFORD WOLF PACK REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK

By: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - The Hartford Wolf Pack announced two home dates for their three-game pre-season action. Both contests will be held on the Hartford Campus of Trinity College at the Koeppel Community Center. The arena serves as the Wolf Pack's off-site training facility for practice sessions for a second straight season. The first of the two games will be on Wednesday, October 4th, in the first of many meetings with the Pack's I-91 rivals, the Springfield Thunderbirds. The puck drop will be at 7:00 p.m. Then, game two will be the backside of a home-and-home with the Bridgeport Islanders, who will play under new head coach Rick Kowalsky, who has ex-Pack Pascal Rheaume as one of his assistants. That game will be on Saturday, October 7th, at 1:00 p.m. Sandwiched between those two games, early in the afternoon on Thursday, October 5th, will be the front end of the home-and-home with the Islanders in Bridgeport, which will be closed to the public. OTHER NEWS Bridgeport officially announced what Howlings first reported: a new one-year AHL deal with now-ex-Pack Tanner Fritz. He returns to "Park City," where he spent the first six years of his career. Fritz played collegiately at Ohio State when the Buckeyes were in the CCHA before moving to the Big 10. Over 20 years ago, the New Haven Ravens Double-A baseball team disbanded. Their announcer from 1994-1995, Matt Devlin, is now part of the voice of the NBA Toronto Raptors. The hockey connection? Devlin's two sons will play Ivy League Division-I hockey this year. Ian Devlin, 21, went undrafted after playing with the Coquitlam Express (BCHL) in 2021-22. He's joining the Princeton Tigers (ECACHL). Luke Devlin, 19, is a 2021 sixth-round Pittsburgh Penguins draft choice. He played with the West Kelowna Warriors (BCHL) last season and will be skating in Ithaca, NY, for his freshmen season. The youngest Devlin will lace them up with the Cornell University Big Red (ECACHL). Speaking of Cornell, the school's top star from the last century, NHL Hall of Famer, and legendary Montreal Canadien, Ken Dryden will see his grandson, Hunter Dryden, skating for a prep school in the Nutmeg State this year. Hunter is a Fairfield, CT, resident who played for the CT Jr. Rangers U-15 program. This winter, he will play at the defending New England small school champion Taft School (Watertown). He will try to fill the big skates of the now-departed Detroit Red Wing draft pick and Yale University-bound (next year) Rudy Guimond. Guimond will skate for the Cedar Rapids Roughriders in the USHL. They helped develop another Taft player a generation ago, Max Pacioretty. EVEN MORE NEWS Former UCONN Husky (HE) Joe Masonius heads overseas to play with HC Csiikszereda (Hungary-MOL) this year. Two more AHL'ers head to Europe. Bobby Lynch leaves the Rockford IceHogs to play for Torpedo Novgorod (Russia-KHL). Goalie Anthon Khudobdin also leaves Rockford but heads to the Sokol Krasnoyarsk (Russia-KHL). Hockey agents ignore the concept of "no business with Russia" because of the war in Ukraine. HARTFORD WOLF PACK HOME Read the full article

0 notes

sweetestrequiems · 4 years

Text

I: Meetings and Photos

Word Count: 3,025

A/N: Hello you lovely people of the Queendom on Tumblr. I’m Kit, and... well, you’ve seen me around enough. I wrote Silence is Never Better, The Tower of London, and maybe a few other things you might have seen around. Anyways... Welcome to the first chapter of Out of a Book! I’m very excited to share this with you all. I truly hope with heart and soul that you all enjoy this. If you ever want to leave any feedback, feel free to message me, or contact me at one of these profiles:

Instagram: @/Reinapuff Twitter: @/Reinapuff

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know! I’m always happy to share my work with others!

––––––––––

A rather early Thursday morning in the city of Syracuse, New York. The time’s about 7:15 in the morning.

The sun was over the horizon, but there was little to no noise inside of the apartment. The birds sang their graces and none of this seemed to be the thing to wake up the sleeping woman. In fact, a little snore escaped from her while she slept. Had her roommate not needed to go to work, she would've turned that against the woman in a heartbeat. But of course, this was not out of malice; the two would see the situation being out of fun. Getting up this early in the morning, however, never came easy for the woman that was still in bed. There were two things able to get her to wake up: the sun hitting her eyes, or an alarm of sorts, whether from a phone or a clock.

On this Thursday morning? It was both of those things that would wake her up.

An aggravated Catherine Parr turned to face away from the sunlight, and to reach for her phone. Forcing herself to sit up to turn the alarm off, Parr set the phone down before stretching her arms up and yawning. She noticed the quiet of the apartment about a few minutes from initially waking up. This meant that she was half asleep for a good little bit. “Ah, Lina went to work. Right, I almost forget she’s a teacher sometimes,” she finishes her sentence with a hum. Catalina Aragón, someone she affectionately called Lina, or even just Aragon. She found it fun to have a Spanish roommate, if she was being honest with herself. Made for a more entertaining time some days.

Parr’s never-resting mind began to try to think as to why she had set an alarm so early in the morning. Was it due to the fact she kept waking up too late? Was it a meeting with her publicist? The woman, for the life of her, could not remember. A hand came up to her forehead, rubbing it a few times before pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is bollocks. I can’t remember why I set my alarms so early,” a groan of frustration comes out under her breath. If she hadn’t turned her alarm off so quickly, she might’ve read the reminder that she had put for it. That didn’t matter much. It would come back to smack her in the face later.

Letting her legs swing over the edge of the bed, Parr pushed herself up and on her feet she landed.

––––––––––

7:45 am.

For Catherine to admit she was ready for the day, she needed one thing, and that one thing was in her hands as she walked back to the small table. Sitting down, the ceramic mug came up to her lips. Coffee. That was the one thing she needed. Her shoulders came up for a moment before they eased up, a smile helping her expression soften up from grumpy-seeming to amused. Opening up her laptop, Catherine softly hummed. A buzz makes her gaze shift from the laptop screen to her phone’s screen, seeing the notification on it. Tapping on it, she allows her phone to open up the email.

From: Cleves, Anna To: Parr, Catherine Subject: Planning for next release

Parr,

Writing a short email to remind you about our 8:00 am meeting for the first steps of getting the announcement of your upcoming book release. If you have any ideas post-conference, be sure to write them down and send me an email with them. We can further discuss those at a later date.

Anna Cleves Media Agent/Public Relations

Bringing her free hand up to her mouth, Catherine Parr forced herself to swallow the mouthful of coffee and then hissed under her breath. “That’s today?! It’s 7:55, I have barely any time to get ready!” Gold star for Cathy Parr. Standing up, the author gave a sigh and quickly disappeared off to the space that was her room in the apartment to at least make herself presentable from the torso up. It did not matter that she was wearing black joggers, so long as she looked like she was ready for a business meeting.

Adjusting her curls so they wouldn’t fall over her face, Catherine paced over to the chair, and sat back down. Now that she had her headset on, and got ready in the nick of time, she patiently waited for the call. There it was. Taking a brief moment to look at herself and adjust her blouse, she answers. “Good morning, Anna.”

“Good morning to you too, Cathy. Glad to see you’re awake at an early time. And you got all dressed up, too! You didn’t have to,” a chuckle. Cleves ran a hand through her hair and gave a smile. “So, we’re looking at what kind of a timeline for the release, exactly?” A slight roll of the eyes, and a shake of the head. “Would’ve been nice to know before I spent the last five minutes panicking over being dressed decently. Anyways, to the main topic. My editor is getting ready to give me the list of revisions made to the draft and then I’m going to once again, go in and edit whatever needs to be changed per her advice. We’re... aiming for maybe... three to six months from now.”

A nod from Anna. Catherine could see the woman looking at a second screen and typing something. Probably notes about all of this. This conversation carried on past 8:30, until it was Anna herself who decided to conclude it. “Sounds wonderful. I’ll be in touch, as per usual. But now that this is over, we can talk about something else, if you’d like.” Although they saw each other maybe once or twice a month in person, Anna and Catherine were quite the close friends–– about as close as Catherine and Catalina, since the two have been roommates since their university days. “Look, I woke up this morning thinking I had nothing to do, and I was just going to text Lina for the grocery list but then your email popped up,” a laugh. The German woman simply shook her head.

“So you got dressed up in a panic, Cathy? I’m shocked.” There was another bout of laughter that interrupted them. Parr found herself nodding. “Of course I did. I’m not going to just answer a conference call from you in a crop top and joggers, and with a messy bun.” The thought of Parr actually having a messy bun made Cleves laugh. “You and messy buns? You’ve got to be kidding me. But good job admitting you’re still halfway in your pajamas.”

Now she rolled her eyes. She rolled them so hard, they could've rolled right off her face.

Catherine shook her head, not being able to help the smile. “Hush. As if you weren't in your own. You’re at home, I know you are!” Her hands went to grab the cup of coffee, and she brought it back up to her lips. She was a bit proud of herself for not having touched it the whole time during the meeting, but now she was craving it. So, she began to drink it, allowing Anna to talk. “Where’s Lina? I’m surprised the woman isn’t around there. Wait, no... never mind, don’t answer that. She’s at work, isn’t she?” A nod. “Yeah, she’s a teacher, Anna. She leaves early. Comes back by dinner time normally.”

It was a safe assumption to say the two were having a fairly good time speaking to each other.

––––––––––

11:11 am.

“Perfect. That’s the shot,” a southern English voice rang out in the studio apartment. That was the voice of the beauty that took the world by storm: Anne Boleyn. “Tu as un bon oeil avec une caméra, Maggie! Ça a l'air super, vraiment. Go on and head on home, you’re good to go. Have fun with the pictures,” the ruby-lipped woman gave a kiss on both cheeks to her photographer friend, who packed up soon after and headed on out. Sitting down on the loveseat, Boleyn ended up getting herself to lay down and hold her phone right above her face.

“Lame.” She scrolls past one post.

“Seen it.” Another.

“What’s this?” A new post from her favorite author. She’d never admit it, but deep down inside, she was a huge nerd. Anne skimmed over the post, her thumb double tapping the screen. Parr’s posts were always inspirational quotes, or some snippets from her works. This one was just an appreciation post. A smile began to form, with it eventually becoming a light laugh. “She’s so kind! It’s amazing how someone so famous has a golden heart. And I’m sure she knows she’s got the fame.”

Most of the remainder of the morning for Anne was spent laying down, on Instagram, with no care in the world. Truly, the woman was one of a rather mellow personality. And in her spare time, she loved a good book. Deciding she’d had enough of Instagram for the time being, she closed out of the app and opened up another one. Probably delivery or something, considering it was approaching the afternoon and she felt her stomach rumble just a little. “Good thing I decided to get food. Has it really been almost five hours since I ate?”

An early riser, she was. On most days, Boleyn woke herself up at around three in the morning to go work out from maybe 3:30 to 4:45 in the morning. Sometimes she’d extend that work out to 5:45 in the morning. Then it was off to come back home, shower and get comfortable to be in the kitchen and cooking food for herself by around the 6:45 mark. She was always eating by seven in the morning, if not ten minutes later. But she was feeling particularly lazy today, so she’d take advantage of the day to just lounge around.

Standing up, Anne left her phone face down on the loveseat. She didn’t need it to get comfortable. And to be fair, it took her maybe about ten minutes, because the majority of it was her washing her face and making sure to take good care of that. She did however, come out of her bedroom with her glasses on. Now that she was alone for the day, she could just be Anne. No contacts, no sunglasses. Just plain Anne Boleyn. She was a huge nerd growing up, and she knew this to be quite true. She loved herself, and she truly did love her modeling career, but she found it odd to be both a nerd and a super famous model at the same time.

So, she’d keep her personal life to herself. Just like that.

––––––––––

1:00 pm.

Having finished her lunch around fifteen minutes ago, and having cleaned everything up, Anne found herself at a crossroads during the day. She could take her glasses off, grab a blanket, and take a nice nap. She could go out to the local shops and peruse their inventories. She could get into the kitchen, and do some meal prepping. She had options, but she just couldn’t quite put her finger on what she wanted to do. Shrugging it off, the woman reached for the bookshelf. One of Parr’s books was in her hands.

Anne couldn’t quite tell what drew her into Catherine’s writings. Her books were not quite memoirs, but not quite fully opinionated pieces either. However, they did fall into the non-fiction category. Think of it as a discourse, kind of–– but one full of opinion, experience, and even proven fact. She was a strong woman, and had morals. Anne Boleyn was drawn to that from the first day she picked up a book by Catherine Parr. Laying back down on the loveseat, she opened up the book with a smile.

“A well deserved following,” she’d softly mutter. Her smile became less and less of one until her face was deadpan; a sign she was focused on reading. Word by word and page by page. Killer looks in front of the camera and the world, but a calm and soft appearance in private. This was something Anne showed maybe once or twice, since she has occasionally posted on her Instagram stories a picture or a video with her in her glasses.

One page became another as the time passed. Page to page, eventually book to book. Anne was in one of her reading holes, humming to herself to add a little more entertainment to her already uplifted mood. What broke her out of the daze was her phone ringing. A phone call. Pulling the phone out from underneath her, Anne answered after reading the caller ID. Maggie. Probably an update about the pictures or something.

“Anne! Bonne nouvelle, mon ami! I’ll have these edited by tonight or tomorrow at best. You’ll be right back on a runway soon enough with these,” Maggie sounded excited. A smile came across Anne’s lips. “Besides, you now have an updated picture for events instead of having to use the one from three years ago! Isn’t that great?” Sitting up, Boleyn set the book down and nodded to herself. “Oui. Merci à vous, comme d'habitude, Maggie. You work miracles,” she chuckles. “We’ll talk later. I might just take a nap or binge some Netflix.”

The conversation carried on for maybe five more minutes before Maggie hung up. Quite literally Anne’s best friend from childhood. Put the two together nowadays, and if Maggie had her camera or Anne’s phone in her hand, it was a photoshoot wherever they went. Safe to say that Maggie was responsible for the solid 90% of Anne’s feed that wasn’t selfies and food posts. Count your blessings, they always say. And despite the overwhelming following, Boleyn truly was grateful for what she had. Every single bit of fame that came her way? She was thankful she managed to get that far.

––––––––––

6:30 pm.

“Cathy? Estoy aquí y traje comida!”

Catalina had shut the door to the apartment as she finished that statement. Catherine peeked from behind the wall, before stepping out into view and smiling. “How was work, Lina?” Setting the food down on the table, one could see Catalina’s eyes roll to the back of her head for a moment. Looks like she had a troublesome day, considering she wasn't too cheery coming in the door. “Don’t get me started on it, Cathy. They were so unruly today for no reason. Part of me wonders if it’s the fact that they’re teenagers or not, but... it was unreal. The few that sit by my desk in the back of the classroom? They kept their cool, and I was glad about that.”

Catalina and Catherine both opened up their respective take out containers.

“Pero, gran y poderoso Señor... it was a nightmare today.”

A snicker came from Parr. “That’s why I don’t teach English. Could you imagine it? I’d be being told I’m spelling stuff like colour and favourite, or honour wrong! I’m English, we spell it differently than the Americans!” That snicker became a laugh. Catalina couldn’t help but laugh herself. “But truly, I’m so sorry you had to deal with a rowdy bunch today. Maybe they will be more mellow tomorrow. One day is just one day, and you have had one bad day... what... once every few months normally?”

“Yeah, it does happen every few months. So, I guess I won’t worry too much.” Catalina just shrugged it off, stuffing a spoonful of rice into her mouth.

––––––––––

A bite of chicken found itself on Anne’s fork. She was staring at her food, debating whether she should, or should not, post the dinner she so graciously decided to make. One could see the questioning glimmer in her eyes. The voice across the room made her attention snap from the plate to the source of the voice. “Je sais que c'est joli, mais allez, Anne. You haven’t touched your own food!” A bit of a laugh from Maggie. “I know, I know. Look, I just... wonder sometimes, if there’s anything else I can add to it. I always do that after I finish something.”

“I can tell. Just like when we were kids. You ALWAYS wanted to experiment more with your food. It’s almost like you live to be chaos.”

“Well, I mean... have you seen how I look? I’m chaos disguised as a babe. I like to think I’m pretty fit, after all,” there was the laugh from Boleyn. Shrugging it off, she just started to eat. Maggie was the one to continue the conversation. “Speaking of things you like, Anne... has that favorite author of yours posted anything? You always had a bit of a love for books. I saw that appreciation post earlier, and thought that was sweet. Even with the fame she has to her name, she remains humble. D’you know what, Anne? It reminds me of you a little.”

“How so?”

“Because you are the exact same way! Even with this huge following, you... you take the time to reach out and say thank you! You’re quite humble, despite what your looks say about you. I guess that whole don’t judge a book by its cover thing is real. Also, how do you just know how to make chicken taste good? This is amazing! I’m surprised you didn't go to culinary school,” Maggie practically shoved her food into her mouth, knowing that it would make Anne Boleyn laugh.

––––––––––

At the end of the night, both women could be found doing the exact same thing before they made themselves fall asleep:

Scrolling through their social media pages. One admiring the other’s confidence, and one admiring the other’s intelligence. A fair trade off to it all.

And despite the surprisingly good chaos from earlier on in the day, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Parr both could agree on one thing:

That there would be one day that their paths cross.

#Out of a Book #Catherine Parr #Anne Boleyn #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #Parrlyn #six ff #six fanfiction

70 notes · View notes

jennie-bb-sg · 4 years

Text

Internship pt 2

There was a really quiet week at work and Gary told us to organise a team bonding activity.

We decided over lunch that we should do a yoga session in the office. My fwb from school, Tricia, was a part-time yoga instructor and it would be extra business for her too. I suggested it to Gary who agreed to the plan and told us to clear Thursday’s schedule and organise the session bright and early at 9am.

“But the session is only going to take an hour,” I said.

“James and I will plan something else for the afternoon,” Gary replied.

We all knew what that meant.

I told Tricia about the plan and she agreed. She also agreed to stay for the rest of the day since the budget would cover all her lessons anyway. She met us for lunch on Wednesday to get to know the other girls and Minyi suggested that we get matching yoga attire with the budget. We headed over to the lululemon at Duxton after lunch and decided on pink strappy, open-back yoga bras with matching Namastay Put thongs.

Thursday rolls around and we got in at 8.30am to set up the office. We were all dressed in normal sporty yoga attire at this point. Gary and James arrived soon after and went to change out of their office wear. They could not leave home in sports attire! We introduced them to Tricia and we could immediately tell that they had dirty thoughts running through their minds. Men are so predictable some times. Everyone was a little edgy and excited for the day. Jean started bending over to adjust the mats putting her 19-year-old cleavage out in full view. She put three mats up in front of Tricia so that the two boys would be able to admire us from behind. Minyi and I sat across each other to do a groin and hamstring stretch leaning into each other to let our tongues meet.

At 9am I gathered everyone and introduced Tricia formally and got her to start the class.

Tricia shared a bit about herself and explained what we were going to be doing in the next hour. “Before we begin, we girls have a little surprise for you.”

Right then, we looked at each other, bit our lips, gave the sluttiest come-fuck-me faces we could and stripped out of our tops and yoga pants revealing four tight bodies in matching pink bras and thongs. Right then, we realised the bosses had no underwear on as they started to get hard and their cocks were peaking out of their shorts! With that, we started.

It was so funny seeing Gary and James struggle. James was much better but could not keep up on the long poses. Meanwhile, they were lustfully looking at our downward doggies. Tricia invited us to take off anything that was getting in the way of our practice and slowly but surely pieces of clothing started to shed onto the floor.

As the session drew to a close, six naked bodies laid in Shavasana. Tricia came around to tap on our shoulders and we snuck up to the boys. Gary and James had raging erections dying to be licked. Tricia told them to relax and clear their mind as we ventured across their bodies, Tricia and Minyi took Gary while Jean and I got James. Soon we were mounted on their dicks and faces moaning over the soothing meditation track.

Minyi and Gary led Tricia to have a tour of the rest of the office which meant they were taking the back office sofa. Jean and I took James on the reception as he banged us on the front desk. Jean eventually wound up on the floor as I sat on her face while making out with James ploughing away on the young intern. We moved to the back to find Gary receiving a double head from Minyi and Tricia so we joined in as the boys eventually came on our tits (of course we swapped and swallowed! No waste!)

Gary thanked us for organising the session and Tricia too. He told us to get changed because 1) we looked like a mess, and 2) we were going to a hotel for the rest of the day’s fun. Gary also told us to pack the lube. Tricia did not understand what that meant. We only used lube for two reasons: anal and fucking rough sex...

77 notes · View notes

itracing · 4 years

Photo

11 Consequences of the Le Mans Postponement

There has only been one other delayed start in the almost 100-year history of the race: In 1968, the Le Mans 24-hour race was contested on 28/29 September due to ongoing unrest in Paris. The postponement of the race also has wide-reaching consequences for the Porsche GT Team. This includes changes to the schedule as well as the waiving of popular fan events in the town square and the drivers’ parade the day before the start.

The long night In mid-June around the summer solstice (June 20th), the days are longest in the northern hemisphere. On the originally planned date for the 88th edition of the endurance race on 13/14 June, the vehicles would have driven in darkness for only 8.02 hours. On the new September date, the sun sets on Saturday evening at 8:01 pm. The first rays of light will appear on Sunday morning at 7:44 am – which means that the period of darkness is almost four hours longer than it would have been shortly before the official start of summer. In the fight twice around the clock on the Circuit des 24 Heures, teams will spend only around 12 hours in daylight.

The fast pace The long night means a longer period with cooler asphalt and air temperatures. As a result, the engines of the two ca. 515-hp Porsche 911 RSR can run longer at an optimal level. Cooler air means more oxygen saturation and thus better and more efficient burning of fuel in the six combustion chambers. A good rule of thumb: If the ambient temperature drops by five degrees Celsius, the output of the engine increases by one per cent. Hence, in the long night of the 2020 Le Mans 24 Hours, a higher average pace can be achieved in the race. “If the weather conditions are good, we’ll witness a significantly faster race compared to June,” says Pascal Zurlinden, Director of Factory Motorsports at Porsche. With the sun setting earlier on Saturday evening and rising later on Sunday, temperature profiles will be different. The average temperature over a 24-hour period in mid-June (data from the last 30 years) is 16.8 degrees Celsius. The September average is exactly one degree lower. Like the higher oxygenation, this factor further influences the vehicles’ performance.

The soft tires The cooler night-time temperatures also have the advantage that the soft compound of the Michelin tires can be run over longer periods. This rubber not only offers more grip but also more consistency when track conditions are good. “Unfortunately, we’re not permitted to drive triple or quadruple stints in the GTE-Pro class,” explains Zurlinden. After two stints, the GTE vehicles must be fitted with new wheels. “The changed regulations no longer allow refueling at the same time as a tire change, and every tire change costs additional time. We’ll definitely see more double stints. That’s why we have to keep our pit stops as short as possible,” says the experienced engineer.

The anticipated rain The weather statistics over the last three decades show that the highest and lowest temperatures during the day and night hardly differ between June and September. However, the data also clearly shows that although there is less rain in September, the showers are heavier than in June. “We just have to take it as it comes,” says Pascal Zurlinden. At the endurance classic, however, there is the old saying: It always rains at Le Mans. The big question is, at what stage during the race? “The possibility of rain plays an important role in the teams’ tactics – especially if the car isn’t 100 per cent competitive in the dry. In the wet, the cards are reshuffled – and that opens up new opportunities,” explains Zurlinden.

The low sun During dusk and dawn at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, drivers often have to contend with sunstrike. At sunset on Saturday evening, the light shining through the windscreen at a low angle can blind the drivers, especially in the Indianapolis and Arnage passages. At sunrise on Sunday morning, this phenomenon occurs in the famous Tertre Rouge. “Our seasoned works drivers are very familiar with this problem. As the sun is generally lower in early autumn compared to the summer months, our boys will just have to squint a little more often. It’ll be okay. They’re professionals after all,” smiles the Frenchman.

The earlier start time Unlike in previous years, the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 2020 will start at 2.30 pm local time. One of the reasons for this is that the final stage of the Tour de France, the famous road cycling race through France, ends in Paris in the late afternoon on 20th September. To avoid a clash with this event, the 88th edition of the long-distance race as part of the FIA World Endurance Championship (WEC) will finish on Sunday at the earlier time of 2.30 pm. “From the outside, this slight adjustment may seem insignificant but it has a major impact on our team. We have to finish our preparations even earlier for the start on Saturday. This means shorter breaks and even more stress,” outlines the Director Factory Motorsport. That allows only four hours between the end of the warm-up and the start of the race to complete the final preparations.

The missing fans For motor racing fans, the 24 Hours of Le Mans event is high on the list of favorites. Every year, around a quarter million people flock to the track to watch the race. Once a year on this occasion, the capital of the French Departement Sarthe with its 150,000 residents bursts at the seams. But not this year: The organizer, ACO, has prohibited spectators at the racetrack. “Fans always give us huge motivation,” says Pascal Zurlinden. The large grandstands opposite the pit lane are usually packed out, especially at the start on Saturday and the finish on Sunday. “When I look at the spectators from my gantry at the pit wall on Saturday and Sunday, I basically see the same faces. These euphoric fans always give me an additional boost when energy runs low after 24 hours. That’ll be different this year. Still, despite the restrictions, it’ll definitely be another great experience for the spectators watching from home.”

The cancelled pretest The official one-day pretest held a fortnight before the race is a traditional part of the Le Mans 24-hour event. It is the one chance for manufacturers, tire partners, teams and drivers to prepare for the unparalleled quirks of the 13.626-kilometre racetrack prior to the greatest classic of the year. The Circuit des 24 Heures is a combination of the permanent Circuit Bugatti and public roads. Such a constellation is virtually unique in the motor racing scene. Moreover, there are no other chances to test on this circuit outside the race week. “The elimination of the pretest is a big challenge,” says Pascal Zurlinden. “This is the first time we’re fielding our latest 911 RSR there, so we have some unanswered questions about the setup. We would’ve liked to have done this work during a test so that we could analyse the results and arrive at the official sessions as well prepared as possible. We would also have preferred to checked-out the handling of the tyres during test drives. Now we only have the practice sessions just before the race do to this work.”

The compact schedule This year’s 24 Hours of Le Mans deviates from the well-established time schedule. The practice sessions, which in the past were held alongside the qualifying on Wednesday and Thursday, are now scheduled for Thursday (ten hours free practice plus qualifying) and Friday (free practice and hyperpole). “The longer practice sessions allow us to do extensive work on the setup and tire management,” explains Pascal Zurlinden. “We can complete a lot of tasks, but compared to the usual pretest, we are disadvantaged in that the breaks are no longer sufficient to conduct a really detailed analysis.” The Friday before the start of the race was always the last chance for drivers and team members to relax and catch their breath before the biggest race of the year. The so-called “Mad Friday” was normally all about the fans.

The missing drivers’ parade During the day, wildly souped-up cars roll through camping grounds and over thoroughfares lined with fans. Every burnout is greeted with thunderous applause. The “Le Mans holiday” on Friday before the race traditionally ends with the famous drivers’ parade through the town center. Not so in 2020: The spectacle with pilots driving classic cars from the Place des Jacobins to Place de la République has been cancelled. “It’s a real shame for the fans, but there’s no other way around the restrictions required to contain the coronavirus. We’ll try to offer our passionate Le Mans fans the same gripping and spectacular program via our social media channels,” says Zurlinden, explaining Porsche Motorsport’s plans.

Flying pollen Watery eyes, runny noses and medication at the ready belong to the usual picture in the Le Mans paddock in June: many drivers, team members and fans suffer from pollen allergies. In summer, the amount of grass pollen in the grain-growing Sarthe region in France is enormous. “I’m one of those affected,” reports Zurlinden. “There’s no way around taking antihistamines in June but the medication makes you tired. And that’s definitely something you don’t want at a 24-hour race. In this respect, I’m certainly not the only one who is happy to work almost allergy-free at Le Mans in September.”

#Le Mans #24 Hours of Le Mans #cars #racing #le mans 24 hours #Porsche GT Team #24h le mans

8 notes · View notes