#Mrs. Hall is a stalwart

[smallpotato80]

Hot🔥

[yerdaftapeth]

Homecoming (5x03)

Where to start? The range of emotions in this short but sweet scene is staggering! Domestic bliss, anxiety, marriage-vibes, "I want to be there for you," worry, lost keys, Siegfried being all over the place, regret - it's so THEM. Such a jam-packed, gem of a moment between the two.

Audrey keeping a close eye on him, him not being able to eat his breakfast in the morning. She's so attuned to his quirks and routines, everything out of the ordinary immediately stands out to her. Her then hesitantly following him to his study, trying to reach out to him in his state of distress by asking how he's slept. His "It was a fretful night" and then her semi-assuring "Try to not assume the worst." His plain concern for Tristan and Audrey's equal (yet masked) amount of fretting over their boy. She refuses to let it get the best of her, trying to be the anchor she knows Siegfried needs. I adore how Siegfried instantly resorts to sharing sweet anecdotes about Tristan and his habit of getting into trouble. Of course, he's frantically looking for his keys as per usual. Stalwart Mrs. Hall then casually extracts the keys from "where they live" and, without even batting an eyelash hands them over to Siegfried, who's not even slightly surprised that she knows exactly what he needs and what he was looking for in the first place. Unison. Unison. Unison.

And then she asks him this one, beautifully pertinent question: "Would you like me to come with you?" His facial expressions get me each and every time. It only lasts for a second or two, but their entire love story is on display within them. First disbelief, then pleasant surprise, gratitude, followed by longing (to say YES), and then... caution. "I think it best I do this by myself." I had to screenshot the heck out of it because it's so meaningful. He did need to pick Tristan up by himself for a variety of reasons, but I also believe he wanted nothing more than for her to join him, to be by his side.

Her little stare when she lets his answer sink in, nodding away whilst literally stepping aside to let him walk past her. Yes, there's symbolism in all that. For a brief moment they acted like a married couple about to meet their son after a long time of soul-crushing absence. All in a sudden reality and appropriateness kick in. "We're not a couple and you're my boss - I tend to forget." Yes Audrey, you and I both. Final note: I love how he bares his soul to her by tenderheartedly mentioning that he will “never utter a cross word to that boy again." All is well again between Siegfried and Audrey Farnon.

[bairdthereader]

Heartstopper Elders: Mr. Farouk

Youssef Farouk is so much more than the stereotypical grouchy teacher. Alice says herself in the HS Yearbook that he doesn't like kids very much and probably never should have become a teacher, but underneath the tough exterior, Mr. Farouk is really quite good at it in some ways. He isn't deeply involved in any of the kids' lives yet, but he's poised to become a stalwart supporter in the next season if Alice chose to write him that way.

We first meet Mr. Farouk in Nick's GCSE revision sessions, and he's immediately set up as a stern, brusque, no-nonsense teacher--look at that threatening ruler!--but there are hints of humor there, too. ("No annoying questions.") And, as we'll find, Youssef is deeply intuitive about and observant of his students.

We have to wonder if he noticed the antagonism between Nick and Ben from the get-go, since he would have seen their standoff by their assigned seats, not to mention the intense body language they both had going on once they sat down. It's clear Mr. Farouk already knows Nick from another class, since he can call him out by name and report on his academics during the parent meeting, so he would know that Nick's response to Ben's nearness is uncharacteristically negative for Nick. Youssef is intuitive enough to recognize that the antagonist in this relationship is Ben (though of course not why, yet). When he slams the ruler down between them, most of his ire is rightly aimed at Ben, since Ben started the conversation and is clearly pursuing it despite Nick's reluctance, turning toward Nick and leaning deeply into his space. Not to mention the fact that Ben has just said "you should probably stop acting so gay for him," which would, I think we can assume based on Mr. Farouk's own identity journey, anger him quite a bit.

Now, nothing about the Mr. Farouk we know to this point would indicate that he'd accept Charlie's flimsy I-need-to-give-Nick-his-pen-back story. He would either tell Charlie to give Nick the pen later, or he'd take the pen to Nick himself. And yet, here he is giving Nick a tiny moment with Charlie and away from Ben. It's brief, but it's something. He's clearly keeping a close eye on the situation, and is still hovering near Nick and Ben's desks after Nick returns to his seat.

Does he hear the conversation where Nick so clearly accuses Ben of assault? We can't say for sure, but we do know that immediately after Nick says this, Mr. Farouk moves their quarrel into a private space. He could have just separated them--they've broken his rules several times, and it's clear their argument is nowhere near a resolution--but instead he puts them in isolation . . . together. He knows that whatever is going on between them isn't going to be solved with just distance. And when he says "fix up man," his eyes are clearly on Nick. It comes out sounding a bit blamey, but I think Mr. Farouk is acknowledging that, of the two, Nick is the more likely one to fix the problem.

There is of course the fantastic moment where Mr. Farouk puts Ben in his place, publicly and unequivocally. It's an interesting exchange, because it's very clear at this point that Youssef knows exactly what kind of person he's dealing with in Ben. Between witnessing the confrontations with Nick in study hall and Imogen's breakup speech at dinner the night before, not to mention his own personal observations, Mr. Farouk has a fuller picture of Ben's capacity for nastiness than most people (other than Nick and Charlie). Ben's request not to be paired with Nick is annoying, but a pretty standard complaint for a student who has to work with a peer. Mr. Farouk could have just said, simply, "no." Youssef's more extreme response indicates that he's done affording Ben the respect that Ben doesn't give anyone else, and he wants Ben to know it.

One very telling moment with Mr. Farouk is at the beginning of the Paris trip meeting, when Mr. Ajayi's first words to him are "Youssef, on time as always." It's a small comment, but it's clear that Mr. Farouk, despite his sarcasm and gruffness, is reliable, consistent, and committed, all qualities that his students need to see and experience. It's not explicitly shown on screen, but the students have clearly recognized these things about Mr. Farouk and come to depend on him. When Charlie faints, Nick tells their friends to get Mr. Farouk. When Darcy is sick, Tara runs down the hallway with her, yelling for Mr. Farouk. They know who to call in times of stress, who will always be there (even if he acts like he doesn't want to be).

Speaking of Charlie passing out, I think we can all agree that Mr. Farouk's fist bump is easily one of the most adorable things to happen in the entire show. But what I find really interesting is the way he cuts his gaze briefly over to Nick afterward. He's communicating a lot with that look. Not only is he leaving responsibility for Charlie to Nick, which shows a fairly high level of trust, but he's quietly acknowledging the depth of Nick and Charlie's relationship and the fact that they might have some things they need to discuss as a couple. In the comics Mr. Farouk is portrayed as being oblivious to Nick and Charlie's romance, but it seems, to me at least, that he's pretty aware of it in the show. In addition to this moment, there's what I'll call "the pen incident" in study hall, the veiled implication during the conference with Sarah that Nick might be more distractable at the moment, and the fact that he shows no surprise in the hotel hallway when Mr. Ajayi heavily implies that Nick and Charlie are more than friends.

I hope we get a lot more of Youssef in season 3. He is no stranger to identity struggles, as he's clearly been through a lot of his own. This makes him particularly attuned to those struggles in his students, and he'll have a good understanding of what Nick especially is going through. There's already a kind of unspoken respect between the two of them, so it would be interesting to see that evolve. And I have to mention Darcy, because I think even though they don't interact in any substantial way on screen and they just met for the first time on the Paris trip, Mr. Farouk also seems to have a kind of understanding of (and maybe even grudging sympathy for) her unique brand of chaos and its causes.

Mr. Farouk clearly protects the students he believes need it, and he sees that need more clearly than most. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Mr. Farouk, you absolute cinnamon roll. We love you.

Honorable mention goes to some of the best lines in the entire season, because he is still actually a grump:

Bonus: The best thing ever posted on Insta

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 8th

Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

Max Lord x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Magic stones, ancient inscriptions, DUB-CON, compulsion to have sex, wordless consent, public sex, frantic sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of biting

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The TV guy has been hanging around for the last few days. Causing a disruption in the everyday workload as the director had pushed for a personalized tour to the CEO of Black Gold since he was promising a sizable donation to the foundation. If there was one thing that could turn your normally stalwart director into a groveling slut, it was the promise of funds. 

You hear a booming laugh and roll your eyes. Unsure of what the joke was down the hall, but you know it was Barbara that was giving him the tour so it couldn’t be that funny. Nothing against her, but she wasn’t the joking type. You look back down at your large magnifying glass, looking through it at the inscription etched into the stone that has been a source of intrigue to you over the past few days since it had arrived. 

When your name is called, you try not to get annoyed, knowing that your boss would want you to place nice. Looking up and plastering a smile on your face as you watch Barbara and the TV guy, you forget his name, walk in. 

Well, she walks. He seemingly saunters in like he owns the place. Perhaps he thinks that because he’s going to write a check, he is an owner. 

His eyes are quick, clever. Far more clever that you would imagine seeing those cheesy commercials he always has played on the tv during Jeopardy. The smile you could do without. It’s screaming slightly sleazy, put on and false in order to get what he wants. The only question is, what does Max Lord want?

Introductions are made, Barabara bouncing almost nervously as you shake the salesman’s hand. Pulling your hand away quickly and turning towards her so she can tell you what she wants. She never approaches you unless she needs something. You aren’t one of the posh, beautiful scientists she wants so desperately to be close to. 

“Can I ask a favor?” She asks, clapping her hands together and giving you a pleading look. “I have a meeting that I can’t reschedule.” Her eyes flicker over to the suit and then back to you. “Could you please finish up the tour for Mr. Lord?” “Please….” He winces. “Call me Maxwell.” He offers with a sugar sweet smile that he seems to think to be a gift. He’s not bad looking, but he would look better if he took the Sun-in out of his hair and lost the boxy shoulder pads. You were one of the few that hated the way fashion has gone. 

“I have a lot to do here.” You protest but Barbara gives you an even more pleading expression. “But…..I can finish it up.” She nearly claps in relief. “After I finish up my work.” You warn seriously. 

“Yeah….sure….” She’s bobbing her head quickly and looking over Maxwell. “That’s great. Well, I know you’ll have a great time, so I’ll just run along.” 

You ignore the flirting and flustering as Maxwell makes a slight scene at Barbara leaving, kissing her hand and making her giggle like she’s five again. Soon enough, there’s blissful silence back in your lab so you can concentrate. 

“So what are you studying?” The question comes after two blissful minutes of silence. Two minutes that you had obviously hoped would be longer. Your eyes cut up from your magnifying glass to find Maxwell looking at the stone curiously. 

“A rock.” You glibly answer, keeping your tone just as dry as you possibly can. Barely resisting the urge to smirk when his grin slides off his unfairly handsome face. 

Maybe you feel a little guilty, but it’s not enough to make you apologize as you look back down at the inscription with a frown. While your Latin was rusty, you swear this is talking about fertility. Just as you tilt the glass down more, a finger appears in front of your magnifying glass, making it look even larger than normal, showing you the grooves in his skin. “What’s-”

“No!” You cry out, knowing that the stone cannot be touched without gloves. The instructions had been very clear in the crate that the stone was packed in. “Don’t touch it!” 

Your fingers collide, both of you touching the vivid jade stone at the same time. The piece seemingly glows at the contact and both of you gasp as you snatch your hands away, knocking over the magnifying glass. 

The next few moments are nothing short of a blur of pain and confusion. Nearly blacking out until a pair of lips smash against yours in the most inelegant, needy kiss of your life. 

“Ohhhh!” Your eyes fly open, finding Maxwell’s face right in yours and his mouth opens, groaning. 

“I can’t- I need-” He doesn’t stop kissing you, his words are just cut off by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Your tongue. The feeling of him pressing against you awakening something base inside you. 

You don’t know why, but you need him. The word fertility flashing in your mind and you push it away because of the burning of your skin and the throbbing of your cunt. 

He apparently feels the same way. Something hard and pulsing starts to push against your hip as he backs you up against the table you had been working at. Nothing but fervent kisses being exchanged, and his hands start to pull at your clothes. 

You never even think to push him away. It doesn’t even cross your mind. Too busy grabbing handfuls of him and ripping open the obvious faux Gucci belt so you can rip those ridiculously baggy pants off of him. 

His hands are bigger, harder than you ever would have imagined when watching those commercials of his. Wonderful on your skin as he slides them up  your thighs under your skirt. Hot as find the edge of your panties and hooking under them to start dragging them down. 

It’s not like you’ve talked about this, but neither one of you cares. Both of you groaning when your own hand dives into his briefs and wraps around an impressive cock. He hides it well under those bulky suits. 

Both of you need each other in a way that can’t even be described. The pain flaring in your stomach drives you, squeezing and pumping his cock, pulling back the foreskin and smearing the bead of precum around the head while he pants into your mouth. 

Your name, not even spoken by him before, sounds like ambrosia as it drips from his tongue. His own fingers sliding through your folds before he is pushing you up onto the table and spreading your legs to step between. 

Your cry would draw any number of personnel if there had been anyone. It had already been late in the day, and then the meeting had drawn everyone else away, leaving your floor empty with the exception of you and Maxwell. “Max!” Your eyes widen when he pushes inside you, filling you to the hilt with a needy, frantic thrust. 

He groans again, twitching violently inside you and gripping the edge of the table behind you. Pulling his hips back and shuddering when he thrusts forward again and moans at how tight you are. 

Rocking the table with how hard he’s fucking you, you can’t do anyting but hold on and whine for him. Every piercing thrust of his cock pushing the pain away and making your cunt feel amazing. Hitting all the best spots, deep inside you and scratching an itch you didn’t know you had. 

Kisses are littered on your skin, his teeth being used far more that you ever thought possible as a man fucks into you as frantically as Maxwell does. Chasing that same goal with the urgency that is burning underneath your own skin. Both of you pulling and grabbing at each other, clothes bunched between you as you grind your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“I didn’t- fuck, it’s so good.” Maxwell rambles. “You’re so good. I can’t - it’s so- fuck.” 

You can only moan in agreement, not even coherent enough to speak right now. Your entire focus on the connection of his cock in your pussy. 

Your body is so sensitive that you are shocked by how quickly you cum. Taking you by surprise as your head falls back and your hands hold onto his broad shoulders. Cunt clenching down around him and the heat of your orgasm rushing through your body and seemingly quenching that fire that had been burning since you touched the stone only minutes before. 

“Oh fuck, oh mierda.” He groans, clenching his teeth and shouting when he thrusts once more, pulsing heavily inside you as he paints your womb with his seed in hot spurts. Panting and whining as he rocks his hips to push every drop into your quivering cunt until he’s spent and collapsing against you and both of you drop to the table top. 

Gasping for air, you try to catch your breath as you roll your head to the side and feel Max nuzzle against your neck, his own breath still undstead. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the stone. “What the fuck was that?” You ask, bewildered and almost giggly as you look at the fertility stone that had compelled both of you to fuck like wild animals in your lab. 

“I don’t know.” He pants. “But I might need a minute if we do it again.” 

Breaking into a giggle, your hand slides up to pet the hair that you had been snorting at earlier. Maybe Max Lord wasn’t soooo bad. “Hell of a tour, huh?” 

“Fuck.” He chuckles, still not moving on top of you and snuggling into you even more when your fingers scratch his scalp. “The best.” 

[smallpotato80]

After Siegfried kisses her the first time, I want them to rest their foreheads together. Then, I want him to say that he has wanted to kiss her since Christmas Eve 1939 - the moment he saw her in that dress. 🤗🙏😍

[smallpotato80]

I think we need an origins episode in series 5. One that tells the story of Mrs. Hall's arrival to Skeldale. Helen could feature as she told Audrey she remembers the days when it was just Siegfried and Mrs. Hall. Tris would be gone off to school and we could see Helen dropping by to pay a bill. We know Siegfried was "a mess" and Mrs. Hall was dealing with the fallout of her marriage breaking up and her son being sent away. Mrs. Hall said it "were chaos" but we know she was a "stalwart" and she completely understood Siegfried was grieving Evelyn. He may have been prickly, but she knew he was a good man. I would imagine seeing how much he loved his wife meant a great deal to Mrs. Hall. His struggles with trying to parent Tristan? She could relate to that as well due to her struggles with Edward. Perhaps we would see the fallout of an assistant that did not work out. It could be really, really good. Imagine if it played out that the tale was being told to baby James by either Siegfried or Audrey...or both as they sat for him.

I have to say, I would very much like to see the first time Audrey helped Mr. Farnon get ready for a dance at Pumphrey Manor. I want her breath to catch a bit when she sees him in his tails for the first time. Kind of like his breath was taken away when he saw her in the fancy dress on Christmas Even 1938.

[rain-braiding-down-a-window-pane]

In times of trouble, Mrs Hall is the absolute stalwart of Skeldale House. But who does the stalwart turn to when the troubles are her own?

A story told in two parts - Then (1943) Mrs Hall is shocked to learn her former husband has died, while Now (1945) she hopes for her son's safe return home from the war.

Rated explicit for sex in a later chapter

[common-man]

Small Story 263.

Small Story 263 An Evening of Surprises at the Reception

Rajesh took his reserved seat at the restaurant, feeling a mix of nostalgia and excitement. It had been three years since his transfer to Bengaluru, and this visit to Mysore brought back many memories. He was now the District Manager for a leading multinational pharmaceutical company headquartered in Germany.

His wife, Anjali, couldn’t accompany him as she couldn’t get leave from her bank job. He had come alone to represent her at the wedding reception of Mr. Paul's son. Mr. Paul was a close friend of Anjali’s father. The event was being held at the prestigious Southern Star Hotel, where Rajesh also had a room booked.

After visiting the Mysore Palace and other attractions, Rajesh returned to his room to freshen up. By 6 PM, he was at the reception hall, which was already buzzing with guests — including several VIPs and VVIPs. The prominence was understandable, as Mr. Paul was a retired Inspector General and currently the Director of the famous OO1 Investigation Academy in Mysore, renowned internationally.

Rajesh felt honored to attend such a high-profile event. Around 7 PM, the legendary OO1 and his assistant Ranjitha arrived. While enjoying the evening snacks, Mr. Paul inquired about Anjali and introduced Rajesh to the Chief Investigator of OO1, emphasizing Rajesh’s background as a gold medalist in M.Pharm.

Rajesh was thrilled to meet such an internationally respected figure. He was also introduced to OO1's wife, Ambujam, a well-known name in the world of philanthropy. The evening took an even more surprising turn when Ranjitha shared that her uncle was the Technical Director at the German headquarters of Rajesh’s company. This unexpected connection delighted Rajesh.

He had come simply to attend a wedding reception, but he left having met stalwarts in the field of investigation and discovered influential links to his professional life. As he made his way back to his room, he couldn’t help but replay the day’s remarkable events in his mind — an evening truly beyond expectations. K.Ragavan 1-6-25

[deeisace]

@hypnodazed in the notes thank you for telling me where to find these articles, hope nobody minds me adding them on here - thought to do so, because not everyone can find/view them -

29th March 1937 - The Daily Mirror, page 5

ID: newspaper article reading

Girl Becomes Man

Barmaid Ellen Now Barman Alan

From our special correspondent

Crewe, Sunday

After living sixteen years as a girl, Ellen Caldwell, of Martin Street, Crewe, has grown to manhood - and become Alan. At birth Ellen was registered as a girl, attended St Mary's Roman Catholic School and later worked on a milk round, in a bakery, in a wire works and as a barmaid.

Last December Ellen found herself growing a beard, became worried, consulted a doctor. An operation was performed at the Manchester Royal Infirmary, and Ellen, no longer a girl, changed her name.

I met Alan at the Cheese Hall Hotel, Crewe, working as a barman where a short time ago he was a barmaid.

(bold, large print) "I'm glad it's over."

"I'm glad it is all over," said Alan, "and I know just what I am. I shall stay on at the hotel.

When I was a girl, I used to play football, but I have given that up now, although I shall go on playing cricket."

(bold) "As soon as Alan knew he was a boy he wanted to come navvying with me, but I would not allow that," his father told me.

(bold) Stalwart ex-soldier Harold, Alan's brother, said, "Even as a girl he was stronger than I and could always manage me in a tussle."

Mr Clark told me: "As a girl Alan was one of the best servants I ever had."

/End ID.

I hope everyone disappointed with the Daily Post's continual misgendering is glad to see that not every newspaper or reporter is the same, tho I would say, in the kindest possible way, and as a transman myself, you must remember that this is 87 years ago, and we cannot hold people then to our modern standards.

"Navvying" is, so far as I know, digging canals and things like that, heavy manual work.

Also, the Cheese Hall Hotel is the same place Sylvia worked as a barmaid in 1939 - not definitive, until we get the actual record back (I ordered it yesterday), but it adds credence to that that marriage is in fact our same Allen, rather than someone with the same name.

You could take the above as Allen being intersex, but it is true (as I think hypnodazed has said in a reply) that sometimes people lied to get the medical attention they needed, so as ever we can't know for sure. Which is frustrating to say, I suppose, and frustrating to hear, I imagine, but there's nothing to be done about it.

And, on the back page of the same issue -

ID: Ellen Becomes Man

(a photograph of two men walking down the street wearing suits)

After living as a girl for sixteen years, Ellen Caldwell, of Crewe, has had an operation and become Alan.

You see her - or rather, him (wearing a light tie) - in this picture, taken as he was out walking with his brother Harold. See story on page 5. /End ID.

In the olden days they did things so sensibly. Page 8 of The Liverpool Daily Post, 29 March 1937

[oldsalempost-blog]

The Old Salem Post

Our  Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays                                          Contact: theoldsalempost@gmail.com                              Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library.                            Volume 7 Issue 27                                                                                                  Week of June 24,  2024                https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog                                                         Lynne Martin Publishing EDITOR: A friend, Alan Smith shared a Fox Carolina news report where I discovered a kindred spirit at the Pickens Soapstone Baptist Church, (and I am not even Baptist!) :>) The Historical Black Church has kept its doors open due to Mable Owens Clarke and her fish fry fundraisers.  Mable promised her dying mother that she would not to let the church doors close.  Clans had burned the church in 1967. But Mable’s mom sold enough vegetables to restore  the church where her grandfather, a freed slave, was the founder. Now, a Preservation Endowment through SC Conservation Bank  and more conservation entities protect the church, the 6 acres, a huge black rock on site,  and the mountain views.   Hallelujah!   LRogersMartin                                                                        

TOWN of SALEM: 5 Park Avenue * Visit the Downtown Market every Sat, Hours 8am-12pm.  The annual July 4th celebration is on! Open to all!  Contact Salem Town Hall to participate or donate  864-944-2819

Jottings from Miz Jeannie  by Jeannie Barnwell        Sterling vs. Plated                                             It's a matter of discernment.  Sterling silver is 925 parts  silver (AG),  whereas PLATED consists of an object made of a cheap metal covered in a veneer of silver.  Two objects can look very much alike; however, the sterling vase or spoon or bracelet has much more value and will retain its usefulness   Emily Dickinson alerts readers to classify their friends accord sterling or plated qualities. A shattering betrayal could ensue if we are not careful in identifying the qualities of "sterling" vs "plated" friends.  The poet places blame on the consumer who does not know the difference between true friends and those who appear to be honest on the surface, but that surface is just a thin coating of silver covering  worthless base metal Miz Jeannie loves you!  Stay Cool!  Drink Water! Go for a swim! Squirt an unsuspecting neighbor with a hose!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      ASHTON RECALLS    by Ashton Hester                                                                                                                       Here's a really old story  for the Old Salem Post:   WAR OF 1812 SOLDIER STILL LIVING IN OCONEE IN 1904 - (The following story was in the May 18, 1904 Keowee Courier). . .We learn of two aged citizens of Oconee this week who are justly entitled to the distinction or ranking high among the oldest persons of this county. . .Martin Mahaffey, who lives in the Cheohee Valley, was born in 1796 and is in his 108th year. At the age of sixteen he volunteered for service in the War of 1812 and made a stalwart fighter in spite of his tender age. . .He is to-day living on his own place and enjoying fairly good health. . .Mrs. Jane Perry, who lives with her son, E.A. Perry, near Salem, is in her 92nd year, having been born in September 1812. She is the widow of the late Stephen McD. Perry. . .At the time of her birth her father, the late Samuel Youngblood, was a soldier in the American army, which was then engaged in fighting the Indians. He later served as the first Treasurer of the Pickens District. . .(Footnote written in 2024: The Pickens District consisted of the present-day Oconee and Pickens Counties.  In 1868 the district was divided into the two counties.)                                                                                                                   .                                                                                                               JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP* 13412 N Hwy 11 Opening on Tuesdays 12pm-7pm during the summer season. Wed–Sat 9am-9pm and Sunday 12pm-7pm. Events this week: Wed: Wing Wednesday and more with BLUE RIDGE GRILL at 4PM & SINGER-SONG WRITER Night hosted by Rick Malec 6PM.  Thursday: Food: BLUE RIDGE GRILL 4PM  & Music: OLD TIME JAM 6:30PM  Fri: Lilly Anne Band 6:30PM   Food: LOBSTER DOGS  Sat–  Food: PA CHUYS Music: MATT PHILLIPS  at 6:30pm  Sun: 12pm-7pm Food:  FARM to FIRE Pizza by Reid Farm 12PM-7PM    Music:   CANNON & COHEN 4PM.                                 *Serving delicious Pisgah Coffee Roasters hot or iced coffee all day long. 

Clemson Rural Health Mobile Unit Coming to Salem:   Scheduled time will be from 9-3 and will be located in the gravel parking lot across from the Salem Fire Department.  They will offer comprehensive primary care that includes chronic disease management and acute care.  The website for more detailed services: https://www.clemson.edu/cbshs/clemson-rural-health/patients.html Dates:  7/25, 8/13, 8/29, 9/10, 9/26, 10/8,10/24, ….

Palmetto Trail Clean-up:   Join Palmetto Trail on Jun 29 at 9 AM at the Oconee State Park trail head for the Oconee passage.  Arrive  a little before 9 AM.   They will be putting out new trail markers.  Bring your own trash bags. Water.  Gloves.  Pruners. Will likely do a mile and half and back to starting point.  Sign up at the Palmetto Trail website.  

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER 4 EAGLE LANE, SALEM

2024 UPCOMING EVENTS     Treasure Store open every Sat morning 9AM-12PM.  For donations  call 864-557-2462.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              ENAC is excited to partner with YOUNG APPALACHIAN MUSICIANS– YAMs is the group from Pickens County willing to help ENAC get started with an evening class each week on Tuesdays at 5:30PM. Cost will be $50 each month.  Instruments are available for rental if needed at $20 per month.  For 3rd grade through adult.   Call 864-280-1258.  Lessons have started in June!   

Oconee Mountain Opry– July 20th at 7PM.  We have confirmed a great variety line up of Talented musicians!  The Lilly Anne String Band, Neil Conway and Adam Hopkins!  Tickets $10 available online  or website and available at the door.

2nd Annual Talent Showcase:  July 27th 6PM  This Talent Showcase is open to everyone so get your friendly act together and call 864-710-8758 or 864-888-5663 to sign up.  Tell your friends to join the fun!

Beverly Chesser with Beverly Exercise is coming to ENAC on Saturday, August 3 at 1PM to speak on wellness and fitness.  Beverly has shared her ministry for almost 50 years and is now 80 years old. She still leads an exercise group at her church in Anderson, SC every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Do not miss this opportunity to hear the message Beverly will share with us all. Admission is a donation only.   Tell all your friends and make plans to be encouraged spiritually, mentally, and physically. 

August 24th, 7PM  Make Reservations for  Dinner and a Show with Luke Riley Smith– Tickets $25    Call 864-280-1258.

                                                  CHURCH NEWS                       Bethel Presbyterian Church (PCUSA),  580 Bethel Church Rd Walhalla, 29691. Worship at 10:30 a.m.   June 30 Message by Pat Rabun.  Come Visit Us!                                                                                                                         Salem Seventh-Day Adventist Church, located 240 W Main St , Salem,  cordially invites you to join us every Saturday at 9:30am  Vacation Bible School Sunday June 30, 1-4pm  The Creator Is My Friend/What do you taste?  Special feature: Clemson 4-H Native Carnivorous Plants                                                                                                                                Salem Methodist Church: located 520 Church Street, Salem 9am for breakfast, 9:15am for Sunday School, and 10:30am for Worship.  Live service on Facebook or view it later on our website  Our church has multiple missions. Help be the hands & feet of Christ.                                                                                                                                              

Local Broadcasts                                                Radio Stations WGOG 101.7 and WFBS 107.9 are favorite stations of mine too.  Dick Mangrum and Gary Butts have been a part of my life as long as I can remember from WGOG.    Jeff Bright is a new and faithful supported of Salem at WFBS 107.9  and brings us upbeat classic music, local news, and happenings especially in our Salem areas.   Check out  WGGS Channel 16 independent Christian Television Broadcast that brings messages of hope and faith, songs of praise, and many other quality shows.  Beverly Exercise at 6AM on weekdays shares nutritional information and health studies while she exercises and encourages everyone to exercise as if “for the Lord.”    She shares that exercise, “ Is good medicine.”  She includes testimonies how others have shared that exercising regularly has stopped pain, helped them  reduce weight, gain muscle, strength, endurance, and generally makes them feel and look better.                                                                                                                    1Peter :10 “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”   Prayer:  Lord: Help us be grateful stewards of your faithful gifts! Amen.

                   HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADAM HOPKINS! LRM    

[coolrahulsarin]

Terry Funk, stalwart Hall of Fame wrestler, dies at 79

New Post has been published on https://bestcustomjerseys.com/terry-funk-stalwart-hall-of-fame-wrestler-dies-at-79/

Terry Funk, stalwart Hall of Fame wrestler, dies at 79

Terry Funk, the Hall of Fame professional wrestler whose hardcore fighting style in the ring inspired decades of bloody brawls and entertaining sparring, has passed away. He was 79 years old.

His death was confirmed Wednesday by World Wrestling Entertainment, the company for which Mr. Funk’s career exploded. No cause of death was provided and family members could not immediately be reached for comment Wednesday night.

Mr. Funk’s wrestling career, which began in the mid-1960s and spanned four decades, took him across the country and world, from playing in front of sold-out crowds for WWE to entertaining fans at a growing Japanese wrestling market with All Japan. He quickly became known as a fierce fighter who wielded many types of makeshift weapons against his opponents: chairs and ladders, barbed wire and bats, trash cans, and fire.

That extreme quality of his fights made Mr. Funk one of the most celebrated fighters of his generation in a sport based on athletes playing exaggerated or downright invented versions of themselves.

Much of his featured videos show Mr. Funk in a bloody mess, his long wet hair slicked back, and his face bleeding from some sort of punch, kick, or chair. He didn’t have the chiseled build and abdominals normally expected of a professional wrestler. But his build was broad, his fighting against opponents was precise, and he displayed barbaric creativity inside the ring that earned him respect among his peers.

Terry Funk in 1976.Credit…N.W.A.

Ric Flair, a retired professional wrestler known for his flashy outfits and flamboyant lifestyle, said Wednesday on X, formerly known as Twitter, that he’s “never met a guy who works harder” than Mr. Funk. Mick Foley, the professional wrestler who also had matches with Funk, said on Facebook that Funk was “the best wrestler” he’s ever worked with.

Terry Funk was born on June 30, 1944 in Hammond, Indiana. His father, Dory Funk Sr., was also a wrestler, according to the book “Pro Wrestling Frequently Asked Questions: Everything There Is to Know About the World’s Most Entertaining Show.”

After Mr. Funk’s father completed his tour of duty in the South Pacific during World War II, his family moved to Texas, where the older Mr. Funk became a well-known fighter and promoter.

It was in Texas that Terry Funk’s love and familiarity with the sport deepened and, in 1965, he made his debut in his father’s wrestling company.

In 1985, he made it to the World Wrestling Federation, and at WrestleMania 2 in 1986, he and his brother Dory Funk Jr., who is also a Hall of Fame wrestler, defeated Tito Santana & the Junkyard Dog.

In 1989, he moved on to World Championship Wrestling, where he would have one of the most acclaimed matches of his career against Mr. Flair.

The 20-minute contest was an “I Quit” fight, in which both men would fight and fight until one of them gave up. The match, considered a classic, was a display of brutal realism that appealed to professional wrestling fans, who determine the winner in advance.

There were chest slaps from Mr. Flair, headlocks from Mr. Funk, throws out of the ring, fights on the sidelines, hair pulling, and repeated yells from both wrestlers: “Do you want to quit?”

Finally, as Mr. Flair wound Mr. Funk into a four-legged lock, Mr. Funk, his face contorted in pain, spoke the words that rang the game bell: “I quit.”

In 2000, when he was in his early 50s, Mr. Funk returned to WCW, winning the United States Championship and the WCW Hardcore Title. His last match in WWE was in 2006.

In 2009, Funk was inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame.

Funk also brought his menacing image to Hollywood. In 1989, he played a doorman in the film “Road House” starring Patrick Swayze. He played the intimidating character Frankie the Thumper in the 1978 wrestling drama “Paradise Alley” opposite Sylvester Stallone.

A full list of survivors was not available Wednesday.

In Mr. Funk’s autobiography, “Terry Funk: More Than Just Hardcore,” he wrote of his fond memories of listening to his father talk about wrestling, how his “eyes would shine with pride when they talked about the tough guys in the profession.” and the crazy.”

“Growing up, I was lucky enough to live the life of a fighter, a life that gave me stories to tell, just like the ones I had heard as a child,” he said. “Pirates, millionaires, kings, and adventurers have nothing against me! I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone.”

#Terry #Funk #stalwart #Hall #Fame #wrestler #dies

[yerdaftapeth]

Stalwart Mrs. Hall holding the fort + protecting calf-saving James.

“Is James back?”

You've Got to Dream (1x01)

[smallpotato80]

And 🙄There’s Mr. Farnon. He needs me. She loves this ridiculous creature. How boring would her life be without him? Skeldale, Darrowby, and all the dear people that call Skeldale home are her world. And this ridiculous creature is the heart of it all. For Siegfried, the remarkable, stalwart Mrs. Hall is the heart of it all. Could anyone really imagine Siegfried without Mrs. Hall? She can’t! And by the end is series 4, she realized how much her role means to her.

Because of my actions we know exactly where the ring is. It's inside a dog.

[smallpotato80]

I see an alternate reality where Mrs. Hall leaves with Gerald and ends up in a very bland life at the Lakes. Stuck caring for Gerald's sister with no real community around her. Her marriage to Gerald is bland. A kind man who cares for her, but it is rather sexless. Our dear, stalwart, Audrey is actually a red-blooded woman who had hoped for...more. There's no real flare other than Gerald bringing her chocolates and an occasional flower. She misses the Skeldale crew...but especially the ridiculous creature that is Siegfried Farnon. And, somehow, Siegfried was always able to reassure her when it was needed. A steady hand. A strong presence. She was strong for him when needed, as he was for her. Siegfried's antics, while exasperating to most, always seemed to both challenge and amuse her.

Very much hoping we see another door has opened for Audrey in series 5.

[readingrobin]

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh

There is a Wild Man who lives in the deep quiet of Greenhollow, and he listens to the wood. Tobias, tethered to the forest, does not dwell on his past life, but he lives a perfectly unremarkable existence with his cottage, his cat, and his dryads.

When Greenhollow Hall acquires a handsome, intensely curious new owner in Henry Silver, everything changes. Old secrets better left buried are dug up, and Tobias is forced to reckon with his troubled past, both the green magic of the woods and the dark things that rest in its heart. -Storygraph

There is a severe lack of green men in the current fantasy landscape, so I'm glad Tesh gave us at least some crumbs to nosh on in this novella. It's a type of being that can have widely different depictions, such as literal men in green with a tie to nature like Robin Hood or or something with a more supernatural, fae-like twist like The Green Knight. Tesh places Tobias somewhere in the middle, a seemingly immortal man living in the woods among the dryads and serves as its caretaker.

I particularly enjoyed the romance between Tobias and Henry, as there is something constantly endearing about the flirty, excitable youth being paired with the more world-weary, stoic type. It allows for a growth on both parts, with Tobias learning how to open himself up and reconnect to others, while also introducing Henry to the very real dangers of his folklore fascination. For a novella, their relationship was paced very well, allowing for a more steady buildup of mutual feelings as Tobias finds difficulty in sharing his emotions to, well, anyone.

The setting of the book is absolutely one that surrounds you as you read. The woods of Greenhollow exudes all the vibes one could want in an old forest: a stalwart quality that comes from living so long, a hidden magic that comes from its otherwordly denizens and history, and a danger that routinely lurks among the trees, preying on any innocent that it happens to cross. It paints the woods as a respectable, ancient force that carries peace, yet also a sense of loneliness from time to time.

Being a novella, there were thing that I wished had a little bit more focus or depth in its short page length. I didn't really get a good sense of what had happened to Tobias to be put in his Green Man position, nor exactly what was going on with the antagonist, but that's most likely due to Tesh's more cryptic storytelling that falls in line with the book's tone and atmosphere. It could very well just be a personal thing for me, so I won't knock it too hard. I would, however, have liked to see an entire series dedicated to Tobias fighting off paranormal threats with Mrs. Silver, Henry's mother, who is a force in of herself. But that's only a reader's simple wish.

Definitely going to be checking out the sequel in this duology to see where the characters go from here.

(4/5)

[wordynerdygurl]

Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note:  This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series.  This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing:  Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary:  You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings:  SMUT ahead.  General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required.  There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!”  You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table.  The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close.  You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students!  And of course, to you Mr. Harris.  How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good.  I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will.  You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles!  You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.”  That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen!  Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?”  You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help.  You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh!  Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards?  I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.”  Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey!  The Simpsons are fine art, ok?  Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles.  If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture!  The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point.  Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art.  No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander.  You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different.  Wait.  They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum.  It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right!  About the art, not the dishy Italian.  And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.”  Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration.   “Wouldn’t paint be easier?  I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh!  Oh!  I know this!  The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!”  Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct.  In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude.  Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves.  I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew.  Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles.  Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well.  It’s not Grecian at all, is it?  It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right.  The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!”  Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare.  Very difficult to find documentation.”  Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh.  Gym class for me.  Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough.  And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles!  Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so.  I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me.  I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa?  Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.”  Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting.  Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.”  Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit.  He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see.  Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something.  If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.”  Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself.  Right behind Mr. Giles?  What a place to be.  Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him.  He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship.  True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid.  Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense.  Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not.  As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true!  You should see what some of them turn in and call art.  It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks.  You liked it.  It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting.  You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?"  Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir.  "Hmm... Oh, yes.  I was able to study in Mexico for a semester.  Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent.  Carefully made.  Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back.  You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water.  Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright.  In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space.  Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge.  When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs.  Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt.  Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties.  Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away.  He was so close now.  Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it.  Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat.  Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too.  And why shouldn’t he?  “Giles?”  Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt.  It’s… uh, caught.  Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens!  I’m so sorry, let me help you.”  Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary.  He was still in your space.  Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks.  All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest.  Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent.  It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you.  “Yea, yes.  Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch.  Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer.  Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals.  Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there.  If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.”  Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles.  All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in.  The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you.  A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert?  Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard.  It was then that you realized exactly where you were.  Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my!  I’m so-” “No, No.  Please, don’t apologize.  I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump.  Right here…”  Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles!  All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles.  Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?”  Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw.  Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.”  And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you.  Something about it was so… sinful.  So dark.  So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely.  Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair.  Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.”  Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top.  Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern.  Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra.  “Giles… Uh, Ripper!  Please, go easy?”  With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher.  And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you.  Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper.  Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.”  Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know?  You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.”  And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers.  Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you.  For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear!  Poor thing been kissed senseless?”  He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please!  Please, Ripper!  Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then.  Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt.  Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle.  When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes.  Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out.  I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.”  You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you.  They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch.   Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need.  Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm.  That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper."  And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core.  Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center.  With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected.  Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over.   In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain.  He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear.  "I want you to cum for me.  Do you understand?  Tell me you understand." "Yes!  Yes!  I'm so close, Ripper!  So close!" "Good.  That's very good."  Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide.  You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised.  His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it.  The moment your body and his melded together was forceful.  It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained.  Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good?  In your post coital haze you started to laugh.  Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in.  It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes.  Ripper.  My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did.  Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair.  Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary.  After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia.  Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely.  Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about.  Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks.  Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library.  I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged.  Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That.  That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye?  I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back.  We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf!  Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it.  Come on Xander.  You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee.  That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner?  My place?  You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight?  Um…" "He'd love to!  Say 9 o'clock?  And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great!  Awesome!  I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles.  You can't wear that outfit to dinner!  You need to look nice.  Nicer than you do now.  Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn.  You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock.  Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story.  I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though!   Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​ @jenjen8675309​​ @that-one-person​​ @roguewraith​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​