#Windows 10 Notification Area

[yamysunmoon]

Princess's reward

Summary: You've been Jenna's lover for a few months now. You meet in hotel rooms whenever you can. Jenna is promoting her latest projects in Venice when you decide to pay her a visit.

Words count: 5-6k

Warnings: MDNI +18, d/s dynamic, sub! Jenna, stone top Y/N, choking, clothed sex, dirty talk, crying during sex (a little tear), praise kink, kinda bratty.

n/a: Verbal consent. First one shot in tumblr and english is not my first language :) hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

You were scrolling distractedly through social media when a notification popped on your screen. Jenna had posted photos.

More than Jenna herself, her team, you thought. Even so, you clicked immediately with a slight tension of anticipation growing in the lower part of your belly.

You watched each photograph closely. Jenna posing on that red carpet in that red dress. Her lips, also bright red, the wavy lines that traced her hair, her bangs forming a beautiful arc over her forehead. Her smooth and delicate skin, her mouth displaying that perfect and relaxed smile, those adorable dimples. You kept zooming in on each photograph when a new notification arrived. She had posted another update.

A smile was now forming on your lips. Jenna drinking coffee with those sunglasses and that t-shirt and that pose and those jeans. You remembered those photos perfectly. She had sent them to you the day before.

You sighed, looking out the airplane window. Glacing at your vintage silver wristwatch you noticed there were only 20 minutes left to reach Venice. Unable to resist the temptation, you opened your messaging app.

Hey my dear, barely 20 minutes to get to the airport.

Saw the instagram pictures btw. That dress suits you perfectly, you look beautiful.

She should still be at the interview she had told you about hours earlier, you guessed. She had sent you her full schedule as soon as she got to Venice, days ago. You loved it when she gave you all the information you needed to know where she was, and when, without even have to ask for it. Her complience made you go nuts sometimes.

You could imagine how tired she must already be, with it barely being 10 in the morning. She had been going back and forth for days promoting her new projects, attending interviews and public events of various kinds. You recalled in your mind her voice over the phone the night before, the way her raspy voice spoke to you, whispering how much she missed you and how little she could bear it. You had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

You were surprised when a vibration on your cell phone snapped you out of your thoughts.

Jenna: hey my love. Charlize will pick you up as we agreed. I think I'll be able to make it to the hotel on time. I can't wait to see you.

A sly smile graced your face. The first few times you two started texting, you were insecure about Jenna's style of writing. No emoticons, dry expressions and full stops. You soon learned a lot of things about her tho.

When she's at work and finds a few minutes to be able to text you -she makes that time to text you-, she doesn't even realize she sounds so "serious".

But then, when the nighttime comes and after taking a long bath, with her bathrobe still covering her body, she calls you, asks you animatedly how your day has been and reminds you how much she wants you, all doubts dissipate.

You decided not to reply to that message to heighten the anticipation. However, even though you were able to control yourself in action, your mind could not do the same and began to recall your previous encounters. The first time you met in that private area of one of the most exclusive clubs in L. A., when Charlize, her most trusted bodyguard, picked you up a few streets over and took you to her. How she waited for you with her legs crossed and those black stilettos, and one of her irresistible black suits.

Memories of that first night began to play out in your head without any censorship. Her sideways smiles as she teased you, the way her cheeks took on a light pale pink with the hints you murmured near her ear so she could hear you over the music. The way her nails grazed your arm for the first time, to, hours later, scratch you all over.

Her eyes, oh, her coffee brown eyes. Steaming, hot brown coffee. Chocolate eyes melting, dripping all over your body, ogling every nook and cranny and every detail they could absorb. She was looking at you in a way that you had never been looked at before.

"I'm starting to want you more than I can handle" she had whispered to you, after a couple of cocktails and too many leers. She had moved dangerously close to your ear to utter those words, then pulled away just enough to look deep into your eyes, raising her eyebrows slightly, looking down at you. A gaze that suggested some desperation and a lot of willingness to be blown away.

You then realized she was handing the power over to you. She was letting you decide if you were ready to commit to this madness with her. Things had changed since that night, but back then she was proposing that night. That's all you had: one night.

You plopped down on the headrest of your comfortable seat in the VIP area of the plane in the same way you had settled that night, months ago, on the pillows of her bed. The sensation of her warm body on yours invaded all your senses. Her legs around your torso, her hands on the back of your neck. Your hands caressing her tummy, then going from her upper back to her shoulder blades. One hand going up to her nape, pushing her to your lips. The other groping the elastic of her suit pants, asking for permission. You remembered perfectly her whisper, barely a strand of voice leaving her red, maroon lips.

"You can do whatever you want to me".

You smiled mischievously and opened your eyes, shaking your head. It wasn't really "whatever you wanted," but rather what the two of you had agreed upon in endless conversations before you started seeing eachother.

Meeting people backstage in the celebrity world had never suited you as well as when you got to meet her. A few minutes backstage at a random event, which led to following each other on Instagram, which led to getting her number, which led to intimate messages late at night.

Conversations about power, control, and seduction. You told her about submission. She started by joking about it, saying that she could never let anyone have that kind of dominance over her. She went on to say that maybe you could. She ended by asking you to accept hers.

You continued to learn about the d/s dynamic together, and agreed on initial boundaries and desires. Promises of what you could do to her, and be for her. Of the way you could put her mind and body at ease. Of the way you could set her free. And that night, in that LA hotel, you put them into practice. And boy, did you both like it.

Now you looked out the window and noticed that the hard concrete of the landing zone was getting closer and closer. You couldn't suppress a shiver that ran through your whole body, you didn't know if it was caused by the imminent landing or the imminent encounter with your precious submissive. Deep down you knew.

You walked through the front door of the hotel without any problem. The few people who should know you could pass knew that. Everything was handled as subtly as possible, protecting the privacy of the person they worked for, following her orders.

You were presented with stairs covered with a beautifully red carpeted floor. You climbed them on your way to the elevators that could be seen at the back of the entrance. One of them opened and Winona Ryder stepped out. You crossed paths but only dared to give her a brief smile, without looking directly at her. Had Jenna told her about you? You weren't used to running into celebrities from time to time. Charlize stood next to you.

“Surprised, huh?”

“She's a legend,” you said in a whisper of restrained excitement. She chuckled under her breath. She walked you to the open elevator and pressed buttons 4 and 5.

“You get off at 5. Room 513. She arrived about 15 minutes ago” she reported looking at her wristwatch. You nodded. There wasn't much more to say.

You could have engaged her in friendly conversation, but you could only watch the elevator screen indicating how you were getting on. Silently. This always happened to you; you were in that moment before you saw her in which your thoughts, actions and behavior were all directed towards her.

The doors opened on the fourth floor and Charlize said goodbye to you with a brief bow, you nodded in farewell. The doors closed and you felt yourself ascending a few more feet. Ascending towards your personal Heaven.

You stepped out of the elevator at a steady pace. You felt the weight of your whole body on your black military boots, you felt the skin rubbing against each garment you were wearing. You readjusted your watch, the one she had given you, and repositioned the necklace you were wearing, also a gift from her. Maybe she was your submissive, but you were her property.

“513” the plaque read. You gulped and touched up your hair, which you wore loose. One more shaky breath before you knocked softly on the door. Two sure knocks, as always.

“Come in” you heard from inside. Oh, that voice. You turned the doorknob without any hesitation.

You found yourself in a spacious room. The floor was covered with the same red carpet that protected the entire floor of the hotel. To your right, large windows lit up the room, but someone had already covered them with thick, translucent white curtains. In front was the king sized bed with an ornate wooden headboard. The room was chaste and classically decorated, in the most typical Viennese style.

It didn't take you long to notice that just before the bed someone had placed a low table that probably wasn't meant to be there. On it various plates with fresh fruit, freshly baked croissants and macarons in various pastel shades.

From your left you heard the sound of water running. You approached. To the right was a dressing room, and to the left was the door leading to the bathroom. A half-open door separated you from your girl.

“Babe, can i come in?”

“No!” she reacted instantly. “Give me a few minutes” the sound water running ceased. ”Go eat something, I got it for you.”

“Okay milady” you replied teasingly, earning a short sardonic laugh from her. She would always need to be fully prepared before seeing you, everytime to met. You found it really cute, yet kinda incomprehensible.

You would remind her that you had already seen her without all of that, without being THE Jenna Ortega, but simply Jenna, she would just smile shyly and confess that she wanted to be perfect for you. “At least before you ruin me completely” she used to add.

You went back to the master bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. You smiled as you realized that Jenna had wanted to place the table as close to the bed as possible. You both knew brunch wouldn't last long.

You had caught quite a few planes for her lately, and she always greeted you with a big feast of her own preparation. You decided to grab a fresh strawberry from the fruit platter, feeling its juices expand in your mouth. You wanted to have the perfect taste when Jenna came out of that bathroom.

Strolling your gaze around the suite, you noticed a scarlet red suit folded on a chair, along with underwear and black platform heels resting next to it. You didn't have time to discover much more before you heard the door open. A broad smile appeared on your lips as soon as you saw her.

She was wearing a black and red plaid corset and matching skirt. Her hair fell straight and shiny over her shoulders, and a deep red lipstick highlighted her lips. She looked at you with those dark eyes, adorned with a subtle touch of eyeliner and mascara.

“Sorry babe, you know i don't usually keep you waiting”. Finally, her voice came directly to your ears, without having to go miles from cell phone to cell phone.

Your eyes sparkled. "This time I'll give it to you," you conceded, assuming that slightly permissive role she liked so much on occasions like that. Your rules were strict but you both got a kick out of cheating from time to time.

You remained motionless as he approached you. Only a small twinkle in her eyes gave her away. She came closer until she was standing in front of you and your hands were resting on the bed. You looked down at her. She looked back at you and smiled showing those beautiful teeth.

An almost imperceptible nod from her gave you permission to wrap your arms around her waist in a needy embrace. You rested your head on her abdomen and it wasn't long before you noticed her hands stroking your silky hair.

“Ugh... how I've missed you” you confessed against the fabric. Your choked voice rumbling against her gut. She breathed in deeply in a way you interpreted as relief. You heard the air rush into her body.

“You're finally here” she sounded calm, peaceful. At ease.

You lifted your head and rested your chin on her belly. With your hands you caressed her lower back. She looked down at you from above and smiled. “You look incredible” you spoke softly, as if you wanted to prevent anyone from overhearing you.

Everyone, literally the whole universe knows that Jenna Ortega is gorgeous and looks amazing, but no one was lucky enough to contemplate her as you were at that moment.

“That's why I like to get ready before seeing you,” she said insightfully. You smiled slightly and your hands descended to her ass, which you squeezed gently. She gasped and closed her eyes. Involuntarily she moved her hips towards you. You rested your forehead on her skirt and breathed in her scent. That expensive and elegant perfume mixed with her own scent emanating from her skin....

“Let's eat something” she proposed pulling away from you abruptly and sitting down next to you. You blinked several times and looked at her. She was smiling flirtatiously. She loved to keep you waiting.

She decided on one of the freshly made croissants and that's when she saw the bitten strawberry on the table. She rose her gaze back at you. “Are they yummy?” she then noticed your lips, reddened by the juice of the fruit.

“Try it yourself” you challenged her. She raised her eyebrows. She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds during which she alternated looking into your eyes and at your lips. She half-opened her own, surely imagining your taste in those moments. Finally, she took a bite of her croissant and chewed slowly. Then she offered you a piece. “Try this and I'll try the strawberries” she resolved. Captivated by her charm, you laughed at her joke and agreed.

You switched the sour taste of the red fruit and the enveloping sweetness of the croissants with a relaxed conversation. She asked how your flight went and wanted to know more about everything that had happened to you in the previous days. Every evening you talked on the phone but she was usually too tired to pick up specifics. Then you asked her about the interview, which had been with Winona and you also talked a bit about her.

You loved the way her eyes sparkled in admiration of her partner. She kept yapping about her co-workers and the movies they both liked, smiling sideways when she remembered funny anecdotes on set, frowned adorably when reminiscing about confusing and amusing moments and she giggled softly when you blurted out wry and witty remarks.

You were drawn towards her. Everything she did seemed appealing to you. Every move, every gaze, every smile. The way she gestured with her hands, how she crossed and uncrossed her legs, how she tilted her head, and how she scrunched her nose. The freckles that dotted her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose called to you, it was urgent to kiss them. She kept talking but your attention had reached its limit.

Suddenly she stopped and looked at you. A teasing smile decorated her appetizing lips. “What are you doing so close?” she inquired curiously, looking you up and down. You then realized how close you have got without even thinking it through. It was quite literally that you were drawn towards her. Like the Earth is drawn towards the Sun.

You let out an airy laugh. “I didn't even realized” you confessed amused, running your gaze over her torso. That damn corset was distracting you. She smiled sideways, revealing a lovely dimple. God, Jenna and her dimples.

You watched every detail of her face closely before finally looking into her eyes. You were getting closer and closer. Yet she wasn't moving an inch. There was nothing she liked more than to tease you until you took the initiative. There was nothing she liked more than to show herself completely ready for you. Waiting for you.

After a few torturous seconds that felt like forever, Jenna looked at your lips. She licked her lower lip lightly, and the warm pink of her tongue contrasted with the maroon of her lips. Her gaze returned to yours, locked together.

And finally, a slight, very slight nod subtly ruffled the strands of her bangs. You gasped. You had permission. You couldn't wait any longer.

You ended the distance between the both of you and drew her closer by resting your hand on the back of her neck and pulling her in a demanding gesture until your lips met at last. You made a superhuman effort to stifle a moan of satisfaction. She, however, did not hold back and let it out, free, from between her teeth, as her lips parted allowing your tongue to conquer her mouth.

You engaged in a wet, perfectly pulsating kiss. Your kiss swayed between a sweet, rhythmic softness and an anxious, slightly desperate depth. Jenna pulled her body closer to yours and placed her hands on your abdomen, pulling your shirt towards her. She needed you, she needed you badly, but you wouldn't touch her until she begged.

You kept kissing her, wanting to express the latter with your lips, and she was quick to get the message. You could feel the trembling in her hands gripping your shirt, and your bodies were so close that you could feel her thighs coming together and parting just enough, in an urgent gesture.

Your breaths were quickening, so you slowed down the kiss. Your tongues caressed each other and she relaxed her whole body, welcoming you into her mouth, letting you take control. Your hand was still on the back of her neck, guiding her and turning her head slightly at your whim. She kept tugging at your shirt, tugging at you. She wanted you all over her.

Her breathing kept quickening even though your gestures were slow. You kept each other at bay. She would decide the starting gun, but nothing else would happen unless you dictated it. You were kissing her lips carefully when she parted only a few millimeters.

The look she gave you seemed even sad. “Y/N. Please. I beg of you. I want you so much i'm about to cry.”

Her eyebrows rose through the thickest area in an almost pathetic gesture of desperation. Her eyes were watery, dulling her already smoldering brown gaze. The brown of her iris was actually darker at that moment, like a beautiful pyrope stone.

You were lost in her gaze as she alternated looking at you in one eye and the other, in silent questioning. Her lower lip trembled with frustration. You almost felt sorry for her, how much she wanted you.

“Can I take you, then?” you asked at last, controlling the tremor in your voice admirably. You were dying for her too, but you had to show temperance for both your sakes. You were the one who held you both as you fell into the void. You had to be. She had to be able to fall into you. And there was nothing you longed for more.

She nodded fervently. You raised an eyebrow and lowered your head slightly in a serious gesture. “Are you capable of handling me?” you inquired insistently. Her hands, which had remained loyally attached to your shirt, ascended to your shoulders. You glanced sideways at them before looking at her again.

“I am ready to have you” she assured in a sentencing tone.

You looked into each other's eyes and found it. That look in her iris. That way in which, paradoxical as it seemed, she was able to demand that you possess her. Her way of offering you her submission, in the most dominant way.

It was as if time stopped for a few seconds before you pounced on her like a predator on its prey. Your hands traveled to her waist lifting her up and carrying her to the bed as your tongues met again.

You held her firmly and carefully, but dropped her onto the mattress allowing her body to crash against it. Her eyes widened in a gesture somewhere between surprise and excitement. In the process of the fall she was forced to release her grip on your shoulders, and now her hands held her on her palms. You watched her as you kneeled on the bed. She placed her legs on the sides of your body, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow delightfully. She smiled showing her teeth a little.

There was something so romantic about her submission to you. The way she surrendered not just her body but her whole being to you. The way her eyes looked at you, through you, not just with lust but with complete trust.

You would do anything for her.

You crawled up to her and kissed her again, slowly. She lifted her hips toward your body. You put a hand on her waist and pushed her back on the mattress, firmly. She stifled a moan into your mouth. She finally agreed to lie down and you directed both hands to the belt of her skirt. She put a hand on your chest, you stopped instantly in anticipation of some boundary. Instead, she parted just enough to look at you. “Maybe that's not necessary” she suggested in a seductive smile.

You scrutinized explanation in her gaze with a frown, confused. She lowered her gaze to her skirt in response. Could it be...?

With your hands you descended to her thighs, which you squeezed, and went upwards. She raised her knees, bent her legs, and spread them. You looked at her as your hands slipped under her skirt. You stifled a deep sigh as you found her luscious wetness already bathing her labia majora and even a bit of her groin. No panties. You pulled one hand out to grab her neck in a passionate kiss, while the other yielded to her charms and began to give her exactly what she needed.

“Baby, how wet you are...” you praised between kisses. You kept holding her neck in a solid gesture and she placed her hand over yours. You squeezed lightly, fulfilling her silent wish. The cold metal of your watch contrasted with her warm skin.

“All because of you. Its-for y-you. My beloved” she admitted worshipping you with that hard, wet look. Your massage on her cunt deepened.

“Do you respect me so much? Are you so obedient?"

She nodded and pressed your hand. You squeezed a little tighter, testing her limits. You weren't kissing her now, she needed to breathe. You both knew that if you kissed her the air could barely cross her throat, and yet she raised her head, longing for your lips on her.

You kept looking at her, waiting for something more. Your hand was still working under her skirt and her hips followed your rhythm with gusto. Was there anything she wouldn't do for you?

“I want...” you began, and your thumb ran along her cheekbone, her smooth skin. She watched your lips listening to every word you uttered. “I want you to touch yourself. I want to see how much you want me in you. You have to earn it.”

Her lips opened slightly, letting in air. She was breathing through her mouth, and as you loosened your grip thinking maybe it was too much, her hand squeezed yours again.

“I can do it” she assured referring to both your command and your grip. She then released your hand and began to roam her own body with it, descending to under her skirt. Her gaze descended with it and you could appreciate the length of her thick eyelashes. She began to stroke her clit while you focused on massaging her entrance in circles. “I can do this and much more, as long as I have you...” she breathed ‘in me" she looked up into your eyes.

You finally broke the distance that separated the both of you so you could kiss her face. She closed her eyes tightly trying to manage your caresses, your kisses and your strong grip on her neck. She closed them so tightly that a furtive tear escaped from her tear duct. You kissed her, her salty desire made liquid reaching your lips.

“Precious princess...” you whispered, and kissed her chin. She lifted it a little so you could continue touching it with your lips, and in those she slightly moved her whole body as well. She unintentionally brushed a knee against your crotch. You jumped with a start and opened your eyes instantly.

“S-sorry, didn't mean to-”

“It's okay. You may touch me” your voice was hoarse and your eyes had probably darkened, the way she was looking at you. Her free hand ascended to the nape of your neck and caressed under your jaw. You nodded to underline your conviction, so she moved her leg again without taking her eyes off you. You adjusted yourself against her knee until the friction was perfect. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Jenna knew she couldn't stimulate your cunt directly. You had always been very clear about this, and she had always respected it. On occasions like that, however, even a girl like you would welcome a touch like that, over your clothes.

You needed no more to feel yourself melting over her. You released your hand from her neck, much to her disgrace, and kissed her deeply. You lowered your kisses to her neck and noticed that there was a shallow reddish imprint of your fingers. You stopped your kisses. “It can be hidden with makeup, Y/N” she resolved, reading your thoughts. “Please don't stop” she whispered. You smiled and drew a line of saliva down her neck, the muscles of which ticked as she lifted her head to receive you.

Underneath her skirt, your fingers were still massaging her without entering her yet.

She was rubbing urgently. “Slow down” you commanded. “You are not coming till I say so” you reminded her.

She gave you an annoyed, almost hateful look, drawing a sly laugh from you. “Damn you...” she muttered coming closer to your mouth. You pulled away a little preventing her from kissing you.

“Uh?” you stopped your touch on her cunt and with your fingertips you traced her labia minora at a torturous slowness. “What did you say?” you lifted your hips pulling your own crotch away from her knee.

You could see how much of an effort she had to make in order to stay still . She gulped, alarmed.

“I apologize,” she said instantly. “Damn me. Ruin me, Y/N.”

“Are you going to behave?” you asked somewhat angrily. A mixture of indignation and disapproval permeated your words.

“Yes” she granted instantly. “I can prove it to you” she added, willingly. She was trying to convince you. "Please, forgive me".

You moved closer to her and she looked at your lips. You rested your crotch on her knee again and she let out a sigh of relief over you.

“I know you can do it. But are you going to?” you inquired feigning skepticism. Now that you were close, you noticed she had stopped masturbating. You knew then that she wouldn't continue until you told her to.

“Yes, my beloved. I am going to do whatever it takes to fulfill your desires” she pledged complacently.

You granted her a laddish smile at last and resumed your massage on her body. “That's how I like it, my princess... You look so gorgeous when you are this obedient” you reaffirmed satisfied, indeed.

You continued your touch whispering praises, massaging her tits with your free hand, over the corset. She removed her hand from your neck and grabbed the fabric of her corset. She looked up at you, “Pull it a little down for me” you whispered. She managed to pull it back just enough for her dark areolas and erect nipples to show themselves to you.

You contemplated her for a few seconds, she moved her fingers over her chest in a distracted gesture. She adored being admired by you.

“Beautiful creature... Show yourself to me” you demanded in a hoot. She lifted her head almost instinctively, as if it were possible to expose herself further.

You attacked her skin with restrained excitement, it was hard to hold back when she got like this. Her collarbone ready to be bitten by you, her breasts exposed and her clothes still covering her body, but with nothing to hide. You ran all over her chest drawing incomprehensible strokes with your lips to anyone but the two of you. You whispered praises incessantly, and she answered with moans of pleasure and choked moans.

“Don't hold it back. Don't hold yourself back, princess. Give it all to me” you encouraged her. “Gorgeous girl...” you continued, and this was the only time she allowed herself to interrupt you.

“Your gorgeous girl” she shamelesly corrected you in a desperate whine. “Your gorgeous girl. As you are my beloved, i'm yours. Im enterely yours.”

She dared to look at you shyly suddenly, for she knew she was bordering on the limits of your agreement. “My beloved lover” she said anyway. She was submitting to you in the most vulnerable way. And oh, she was getting rewarded.

You smiled softly and entered her in response. She closed her eyes and threw her head back moaning your name. She kept whispering that she was yours as you kissed her and she rode you, wiggling her hips deliciously against your fingers.

As she wiggled she massaged your cunt with her knee. You also moved against her, slowly feeling the consciousness leave your body. You attacked her tits, her chest and her neck in equal parts. You caressed her whole body and the cold metal of your watch caressed her curves. Your silver pendant brushed against her skin. She trembled beneath you, closer and closer to the precipice.

Your hand ascended to her collarbone and she caressed your palm, closing her eyes and sighing completely transfixed.

She opened her eyes slightly and looked at you. She was watching you in a way that only she could see you.

“Time stops when we are together” she confided to you in a tone of secrecy. At that moment she was caressing your watch. “I bought you this watch so you could count minutes while we are appart. But it all dissapear when we meet”.

Your fingers were deep in her, you moved in and out slowly and carefully, just as her words were coming out of her mouth. She let out a moan from the effort, she was having a hard time holding on, she wouldn't last much longer.

She looked at you again and it was all it took for her to take the watch from you in a single gesture. In a mocking fit, she held it between her teeth smiling at you. She raised an eyebrow. Irresistible.

“My gorgeous girl. Mine” you dared to say. She half opened her mouth in wonder, and the watch fell to her neck. You brushed your nose against hers in a barely perceptible caress. A delicate display of affection as, under her skirt, your fingers moved in and out of her inner lips at their whim, at just the right speed and pressure. You swayed against her knee and her hand rubbed her clitoris eagerly.

“Am i touching myself how you want me to?” she asked as she realized you noticed her speed.

You nodded and penetrated her as deep as you could. “Yes, princess. You're behaving so well for me. You're making me feel so good... Are you gonna cum?"

“I'm so close” she assured closing her eyes. You took her chin and she opened her eyes. “I'm gonna stop if you quit looking at me. Don't stop looking at me.” She bit her lower lip, looked at your lips and stifled a moan of frustration.

“I don't want to lose detail of your expression when you cum” you admitted in a whisper. She agreed with a look.

“Please, please Y/N... Kiss me afterwards” was all she asked.

“Of course, my dear” you granted instantly. She was your spoiled princess.

Her body trembled barely a minute later and she let herself be carried away by you as she drenched your fingers in a glorious orgasm. You rubbed against her until you released yourself, and continued to wiggle against her as you kissed her, as she requested. You slowly pulled out of her and interrupted your kiss to take your fingers into your mouth. You sucked them down their full length under her watchful and satisfied gaze.

“Hm... So Delicious” you praised, once again.

She gave you one of her irrisistible smiles.

"Just for you".

[idekkkjja]

Eyes on you,, ۫ ꣑ৎ (G!P) Giselle x f!reader

── .✦ everywhere, hidden in your shadows; Giselle is there. With precise use of her unlimited knowledge of you, she knew your schedule by heart. Better than you did. Every subtle detail was taken down to the basics: your favourite colour, your favourite show, your socials, and such. To extremes as knowing what panties you’re wearing on a Monday evening. The only thing you ponder is why there are gorgeous bouquets on your doorstep every Friday night at midnight.

Although you appreciated the effort of your unknown admirer, you had to bin them after taking a picture for your story, there was no purpose for them lying around. Little did you know it was from your sick bestfriend Giselle who ‘curiously’ after mere seconds of your story posted, bombards you with questions about who this weirdo is packaging you these.

Heads up: As usual, English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Giselle is a bit sick in the head here. She’s too obsessed w u,  toxic stuff, like gaslighting and manipulation. She stalks, and you have a boyfriend so mentions of cheating here, unprotective sex and umm this is so short im so sorry. By the way, this is my first g!p smut EVER AND IM NOT FAMILAIR W THIS SO ITS SHIT 💔. I’m still not that used to writing smut yall.

—

The grand clock strikes noisily announcing to its invisible audience that the day has ended, you shuffle amongst the comfortable waves of blankets laid upon you, completely limp underneath and content.

Noises from the TV faded in the background, and the main characters became irrelevant as the realisation sank in. Your eyes draw themselves to the neverending buzzing notifications vibrating from your phone, the reasons temptingly displaying themselves on the bright screen. You should have put it on dnd.

Stretching your muscles lazily by extending your arms to the air, you let out a groan before plopping straight back to the couch, eyeing the phone mere centimetres from you. Bold numbers light up the screen, advising it is finally 12:00 am. Well, specifically 12:03 am by now but who cares? Certainly, you don't.

12:00 am, the flowers must have arrived by now. It has been accustomed for you to constantly peer through the windows to note down the features barely shown from the person's black clothing, the bagginess, unfortunately, hiding the silhouette under. Most would have been reporting it, being a panicking mess and causing a huge chaotic search for this stalker who apparently knows their address but you... you felt pleased with these rather expensive and rare bunch of flowers arriving at your doorstep, simply your ego-inflating from the sincere anonymous affection.

Though, sometimes, you did crave to know this mysterious person's identity. Do they know you? Definitely. Do you know them? There is a chance, small or big, still a chance. Unwilling to voluntarily escape the bounds of your blankets, you got up slowly, leaving the dim living room unbothered to close the lights off and climbed up the stairs to one of the bedrooms with the window showcased to the front of the house.

Peeking out of the window, your barely half-lidded eyes wander around the area before finally settling on your desired sight, this admirer (or stalker which is better fitting) carefully placing new and different vibrant flowers on your doorstep with shaky hands. By now, it roughly nearing 12:10 am, this time they're quite late, aren't they? Unusual, and their hands are freed from the thick gloves they wear. Could they reveal themselves as your boyfriend? That was your first guess after all.

But the more you analyse the hands in your vision until the figure disappears into the darkness, the more you commit them to memory. The hands appeared too feminine to be his rugged ones, but you never let them lay a finger on you anyway. Shifting back your focus on the mental task ahead, you did notice the nails, which seemed quite long paired with slender fingers. The nails had nail polish on them, and the light pink was cleanly painted.

Is this possibly a girl? Someone you knew so well? From everything you have, just details of the hands, it was clear it wasn’t a feminine boy.

Turning around sharply, you ran downstairs, taking two steps at a time ignoring the risks accompanying you. At the door, you opened it, the cold chill blowing in your face as you yanked the flowers off the mat.

Your fingers instinctively tighten around it, letting the paper wrapped around it crumple. You go back inside to the comforting warmth as you close the door gently, grabbing the forgotten phone left on the sofa.

It seems you're receiving notifications left and right. Some are from your aggravating boyfriend. He’s too clingy. You do consider dumping him on nights like this. One is from Giselle. It's just a TikTok video saying a cute pair of cats suit you two perfectly. So typical. Leaving her on seen, your gaze rests on the bouquet, with a sweet aroma invading your senses.

Click. First, you post it immediately on your Instagram story, letting your curious acquaintances call them to pamper your DMs with questions.

Seconds pass by, and surprisingly, no response from your dear bestfriend. You started to grow worried, annoyed perhaps, she was online right before you posted. Nearly on all occurrences, she texts you, not you reaching out to her unless it is necessary. For once, you pushed your dignity (ego) off your gnawed mind, deciding to message her eagerly.

You: FaceTime?

Long, stressful minutes pass by, and a response dinged; making your uncomfortable waiting period worth its while.

Gigi: give me a moment

A moment? You have already waited long enough, your patience worn. Impatiently, you drummed your agitated fingers against your thigh, staring at the screen. Nearly throughout your so-perfect life, you got anything you wanted in a snap of a finger, including Giselle.

Five agonising minutes it took to see a familiar picture of her displayed on her profile picture for months now,ever once a blue moon she changes it. But everytime it’s up close on your phone, it manages to always annoyingly spread some kind of uncomfortable warmth along your chest. Despite your constant nagging on having matching profile pictures, since you got influenced by eager others. Sometimes, she reluctantly accepted.

“Hello?” Watching the girl set herself up to be in the view of the camera; subconsciously, as if an immediate response, a smile tugged on your lips from getting to see her. She did look exhausted: a mess by the looks of it.

Ragged pants barely getting by, messy strands falling upon her forehead, and her flushed cheeks. What occurred before this call that caused her to be in this state?

“What happened to you? Did you do some kind of… workout?” You teased, arching an eyebrow to thicken the implication of your words that made her more redder as it is.

“No, no… of course not. You know I’m not like that.” Denying the subtle accusation laced in your tone, she shook her head, covering her cheek in growing embarrassment.

And that’s where you noticed. Her hands matched your earlier description almost perfectly, on point. Slim, slender and pale fingers with light pink nail polish. This cannot be true, for months on end, this constant admirer or stalkers you’ve discreetly noticed hiding in your shadows was Giselle.

Your very own bestfriend, who knew every single detail about you to the point that in some depths, you didn’t even know yourself. This new comprehension you've developed had to be concealed for now, though.

Pausing in your words, you pressed your lips tightly together to form a line.

“Sometimes, I feel like I don’t know you. You’re unpredictable.” You said, not letting any of your inner turmoil leak through your softly spoken words.

“Unpredictable?” She echoed, visibly confused as her eyebrows knitted together to form a small frown, sensing the conversation contrasting to what she anticipated. On a common evening, nearly every day but preferably on Fridays; your phone calls with her consisted of gossiping about the latest drama at school, talking nasty and atrocious hearsay about almost everybody disguising it as an 'honest opinion', and what else? Giselle again convinced you to break up with your chopped boyfriend.

Despite your whiny protests against her 'very valid' points about all his flaws, you did agree with them.

Did it make it right for her to trash talk your boyfriend’s every single movement? No.

“You are,” you insisted softly, not wanting it to seem confrontational, yet despite you still processing this secret of hers that altered your view on her permanently.

“How?”

Unpredictable as in stalking you, putting on a facade the whole time you complain about the stalker, knowing that it’s her.

Was it hard to contain your impulsive mouth? Yes. But surprisingly, pressing your lips into a thin line helped it from spilling out any unprovoked insults against her that would spoil your plan.

“You’ll know soon.”

—

Every Fridays you anticipate for than you fail to admit, keening over your barely opened windows noticing how everything clicked into piece bringing a hint of peace to your conflicting confusion you had.

In your hidden notes, when you were sprawled on the bed, you scribbled down messily on a ripped piece of paper.

‘Red Flags - Giselle Uchinaga.’

- Gets jealous easily, too easily over anybody.

- Fake sometimes?

- Hear some shuffling in my bedroom whenever I leave her alone there.

- There isn’t much trust here.

- I have missing clothes whenever she sleeps around sometimes, including my expensive underwear!

- Whenever I interact with other hot dudes before my annoying boyfriend, she’ll treat me like some slut on the streets.

- Too pretty especially whenever angry.

- Has too much to pay back.

- Hypocrite.

- Has too many social media accounts yet never tells me about them… :(.

- Fuc

As you wrote, your running thoughts manifesting onto the thin, wrinkled paper, you heard a small thud from downstairs making you pause for a moment in your writing.

Did you forget to lock your doors again?

Cautiously without making too much noise to alert the intruder, you peek from upstairs and clutch on the stair railing, seeing a familiar shadow.

It is a Friday.

A feminine silhouette.

Giselle.

“Isn’t this too far?” Sharply you remarked, almost to yourself and the hooded figure froze in their footsteps, obviously caught snooping around in where they aren’t supposed to be.

Mentally, you knew you had the upper hand now, so you acted like you knew all this long where you knew for only a week.

Dramatically making an entrance, you went downstairs and sauntered towards the woman: unfazed by this despite the context.

Your bestfriend has been stalking you and now sneaked in your own home, why aren’t you freaking out?!

“Giselle,” reaching out, you grabbed one of the hoodie strings impulsively and yanked her forward having an impulse, frightened yelp escape her exaggeratedly stretched lips due to shock.

Absolutely humiliated, the girl froze, stiffening in your grip and stood there; preparing herself internally to either be thrown into prison or even worse—losing your friendship.

Slowly, you realised the difference now; you had so much advantage of Giselle. You could do whatever you want with her.

“You know if you miss me that much, you could text me, you know that? I do appreciate the flowers though, you know my favourite ones.” Those preciously sweet Lillies wrapped in a paper bouquet, and a small note tucked amidst the petals that you never read.

She was much better than your silly boyfriend, he doesn’t even know there’s different types of flowers except roses.

“I-I’m so sorry, this is so messed up—“ a finger pressed against her lips to mute the repetitive apologies coming out of her mouth like a broken record, you preferred to silence her with a kiss instead.

Leaning forward, your breaths mingled with one another, and you drew your finger back. “Shut up,” you murmured, acting upon your desire, and pressed your lips against hers causing a muffled, pretty sound between you two before falling to the floor.

A high-pitched gasp panted through her ragged breathing, her chest heaving up and down mesmerizingly so, your eyes glued on every bit of her anxious body language. As if she was a cornered small animal from a predator.

Stiffly, her aching hardness pressed needily against your core when you settled against her; your clothed sexes nearing dangerously.

Even by this small contact, Giselle felt like she would cum apart immediately.

“F-fuck,” Giselle breathed out, desperately trying to control her impulsive urges to… maybe prove that she could be much a better fuck than your loser boyfriend dreamed of doing.

Her arms encircled your waist, gripping it so tightly that it engraved ruby-red handprints on the sides of your lower bare torso, roughly turning you over and switching the roles swiftly from her greedy need to brag and show through her jerky movements. Trembling fingers lowered down to the rim of your shorts, her puppy eyes looked up at you, a silent plead for you to give in.

To give in what you craved.

“Fine, my dumb stalker…” you eventually huffed, having the resistant facade still displayed over to protect the controversial fact that your heart was about to jump out of your ribcage this very moment.

“Thank you, thank you,” the girl babbled, her voice muffled as she pampered messy kisses all over your neck, leaving a shiny lipgloss with a smudged shape of her plump lips.

With a sudden change of mind, she effortlessly turns you over so she can see your pretty face in no time shift to a lustful haze. Stripping down your precious hidden parts, her cold fingers out of ‘natural’ instincts, massaged your dripping heat to prepare you.

Just in case, you’re not used to big dicks.

Revealing herself to you hastily—her boxers hanging down—she didn’t let you absorb the view of her cock springing up, the precum glistening down the pastel pink tip, and how she had specific prominent veins on the side.

Painfully slowly, she drags her cock in you, to feel the moment she anticipated for so long and savor it. Not noticing a pained hiss barely making out your clenched teeth at how her almond, sharp nails dug in a little too hard.

You didn’t complain though.

“A-ah, f-fuck, fuck…” Giselle sputters, inhaling sharply to calm herself down.

Letting herself get used to the warm and tight sensation, she moaned lowly with you, now plunging in and out and settled to a familiar rhythm comfortable for both of you.

“Just like that mhh… oh, oh, God— Ah!” Clawing her back creating temporary red designs, drawing out pores of blood, you threw your head back and a choked gasp tored out of your throat.

“Am I better..? A-ah— Am I better than your boyfriend’s small dick?” Giselle managed to blurt a full sentence, a little epitome of her jealousy of that bastard for months and months on end. Knowing you were never satisfied with him.

“Mh… mh… yes, yes, yes…” Being fucked too silly, you unknowingly submitted to her, reassuring her the truth that she was indeed much, much better.

Sweat clung onto the girl’s messy bangs, some of the strands blurring her vision while she rammed in and out of you more desperately, hitting new deep spots you never even thought of having as she chased her impeding satisfying release.

Wet and sloppy slaps of skin echoed throughout the hallway, thankfully, the windows of your front door were covered.

Although, right now, being caught was the least of your worries; your mind fogged with her dick and her dick only.

Warm ropes of semen coated your insides and a silent scream was out of your gaping mouth, drool trickling down the corner of your lips as you moaned incoherent babbling. Eventually, it leaked out of your well-fucked pussy, reaching your shimmering inner thighs decorated by your wetness now mixed with her cum.

Post-orgasm, the deafening silence except for the panting talked for the two of you instead.

“Please, please, y/n… can't you… break up with your boyfriend?” Giselle hoarse out, her head resting on your neck when she admires you lazily with huge, adoring eyes.

Those that your dummy boyfriend never gave you.

“Sure.” Nonetheless, you dryly agreed. You were going to consider the option sooner or later anyway.

And the hallway, the intro of your huge home reeked heavily of sex and sweat. Not a good first impression for those who can come over tomorrow or the next day, you sighed in utter defeat: not wanting the snug feeling of her cock still lounging in you to be ripped away from you.

“Love you.” Giselle dreamily mumbled, her arms draped all over you in an almost possessive manner.

“Whatever.” You huffed in response, and the small conversation said more than enough about the dynamic.

[lalaluna20]

Snow days!!

guys i just got cursed with the fool mans spring so now we have snow day hcs because i can’t think of fic ideas. hopkins paige x reader :)

the second paige finds out y’all have a snow day she’s over at your place in a heartbeat.

if y’all get the notification school’s canceled the night before, suddenly she’s over for a sleep over.

“surprise!!” paige cheers as you open the door. “we got the literal notification less than a minute ago.” you say in shock. “so? you gonna let me in or are you gonna let me freeze to death?” she’ll ask playfully teasing

if it’s the morning and y’all get the notification school’s canceled, you’ll wake up to your body being crushed and shaken.

”come onnn! wake upp! Snow day!” paige will whine until you wake up. “how did you get in here?” you ask sleepily, your voice groggy and disoriented. “your mom let me in.” she responds nonchalantly. “now wake up, we have to enjoy the day!” she’ll exclaim back in her energetic playful self.

Once you’re up you best believe she’s dragging you outside. playing in the snow, making snow angels and having snowballs fights. at some point she’s convinced she can make a three pointer with a snowball. so after 20 minutes she finally gets it in, and you’re frozen against her car or if y’all in the backyard then you’re frozen on the once snow covered porch step.

after you both are frozen you guys head back inside. drinking hot chocolate cuddled up on the couch hidden under 5 blankets trying to keep each other warm.

if it’s too cold to go outside then you guys are either having a movie marathon or binge watching a series.

you guys do homework for a bit, since it’s basketball season she can’t fall behind on her studies. but she also can’t help but to get distracted, only wanting to talk to you and annoy you.

if school gets canceled on a game day she’s definitely upset. i mean basketball is her whole life what do you expect.

“i mean it’s not even that bad out, they could’ve kept the scheduled game” paige complained looking out your window. “paige, we’re in a literal blizzard. we got like 10 inches of snow.” you respond, trying to rationalize her argument. “10 inches so what” she’ll respond with a pout.

she ends up staying over so much that 1/4 of your wardrobe is just her sweats and t-shirts.

if you go over to her house

if you go over to her house she’s dragging you away from her siblings.

closing and locking her door so she can spend quality time with you without her siblings interrupting.

even if you’ve been over a million times she’ll still show off her basketball memorabilia. if she gets new stuff you best believe she’s going to ramble about it for hours

has a whole little section of her room dedicated to you and her. the area is full of photos, gifts, letter, anything you name it.

you both are playing knock out with her mini hoop for hours.

if y’all can’t hang out

if you’re out of town or the roads are too bad to travel on then you best believe paige is still spending every second with you

whether that’ll be on facetime with you or texting you for hours straight, shell still do it.

paigey <3: sorry my mom said the roads are too bad to travel on. i’ll try to come over once the roads get better. i miss you ❤️☹️ you <3: it’s okay! i’ll rather have you be safe at home than hurt on the road. i miss you too ☹️❤️ we can alway face time if you want!

love this concept! thanks for reading! <3

[academicfever]

A practical, step-by-step approach to break free from phone and content addiction:

The goal is to create a lifestyle that is much more attractive than going back to the void for momentary pleasure

Environment Modification

Place your phone in a different room while working/studying

Use a basic alarm clock instead of phone alarm

Create phone-free zones (bedroom, dining area)

Put your phone in grayscale mode to reduce visual appeal

Delete most engaging/addictive apps

Move remaining social apps to the last screen of your phone

Replace Addictive Behaviors Instead of reaching for your phone when:

Waking up → Do light stretching, drink water

Feeling bored → Keep a book handy, practice a hobby

Taking breaks → Go for a short walk, do quick exercises

Before bed → Read, journal, or meditate

Waiting in line → Practice mindfulness, observe surroundings

Eating → Focus on your food, practice mindful eating

#Build Healthy Digital Habits

Use app timers (set 30-minute daily limits for social apps)

Schedule specific times to check social media/content

Turn off all notifications except calls from important contacts

Install website blockers during work hours

Use "Do Not Disturb" mode more frequently

Keep your phone out of sight during tasks

#Create Meaningful Alternatives

Develop offline hobbies (drawing, writing, crafts)

Join in-person social groups/classes

Exercise regularly

Practice meditation

Spend time in nature

Learn a new skill that requires focus

#Mindset Shifts

Recognize triggers that lead to excessive phone use

Practice sitting with boredom

Focus on creating rather than consuming

Be present in social situations

Understand that you're not missing out by being offline

##Progressive Reduction Week 1: Baseline awareness - track your usage Week 2: Remove most addictive apps Week 3: Implement phone-free morning routine Week 4: Establish phone-free periods throughout day Week 5: Create new habits to replace phone use

# specific actionable steps:

Waking Up:

Stretch arms overhead while still in bed

Roll shoulders back and forward

Gentle spinal twists while lying down

Cat-cow stretches after getting up

Drink a full glass of room temperature water

Open curtains to get natural light exposure

Feeling Bored:

Keep a paperback book in your bag/desk

Have a small sketchbook and pen handy

Practice a portable hobby (origami, knitting)

Carry a puzzle book (sudoku, crosswords)

Learn finger exercises for dexterity

Practice a language using flashcards

Taking Breaks:

Walk up and down stairs

Do 5 minutes of jumping jacks or squats

Step outside for fresh air

Shoulder rolls and neck stretches

Quick cleaning task in your space

Simple breathing exercises

Before Bed:

Write three gratitude points

Plan tomorrow's tasks

Read a physical book (not e-book)

Do gentle yoga or stretching

Practice progressive muscle relaxation

Write about your day's experiences

Waiting in Line:

Notice five things you can see

Focus on four things you can feel

Listen for three distinct sounds

Observe people's expressions and body language

Practice good posture

Do subtle ankle and calf exercises

Eating:

Notice the temperature of your food

Chew each bite thoroughly (aim for 20-30 chews)

Identify different flavors and textures

Put your utensil down between bites

Sit at a proper table when possible

Express gratitude for your meal

Remember: The goal isn't to be perfect, but to gradually build these healthier habits. Start with one context (like mealtime) and build from there.

Here's how to handle those intense urges to check your phone;

#Immediate Physical Response

Take 3 deep breaths

Stand up or change your position

Clench and unclench your fists

Stretch your arms overhead

Drink a full glass of water

Walk to a different room

#The 10-Minute Rule

Tell yourself "I'll wait just 10 minutes"

Set an actual timer

Often the urge passes within this window

If it doesn't, the pause still gives you control

#Urge Surfing Technique

Acknowledge the urge without judgment

Notice where you feel it in your body

Observe how it rises and falls

Remember urges are temporary waves

They typically peak at 20-30 seconds

#Quick Alternatives

Do 10 jumping jacks

Write down what you're feeling

Look out the window and find 5 specific things

Organize something small nearby

Hum your favorite song

Stretch your fingers and hands

# Ask Yourself:

"What am I trying to avoid right now?"

"What am I actually needing in this moment?"

"Will this matter in 24 hours?"

"What could I create instead of consume?"

#Emergency Reset Options

Splash cold water on your face

Step outside briefly

Call or text a friend

Do a quick physical task

Listen to one song

Write down your current goal

Remember: Each time you resist an urge; you're building stronger neural pathways. The urge will get easier to manage with practice.

##A targeted journaling approach to redirect that "random lookup" energy into something more meaningful:

#Curiosity Journal Structure

Keep two sections:

"Questions I Want to Answer" (capture random thoughts)

"Planned Research Time" (dedicated lookup sessions)

Date each entry

Include how urgent each question feels (1-5 scale)

Note why you want to know this information

#Daily Practice Morning Brain Dump (5-10 minutes):

Write all questions floating in your mind

Add topics you might want to explore

Rate their true importance

Schedule specific research time

Evening Reflection:

Which questions still matter?

What did you learn today?

What patterns do you notice in your curiosity?

Was the information you looked up actually valuable?

#Implementation Rules

Write down every urge to look something up

Wait at least 30 minutes before researching

Batch similar questions together

Set specific research time blocks (e.g., 4-4:30 PM)

Review old questions - many become irrelevant

#Question Categories Create sections for:

Essential Knowledge (work/study related)

Personal Growth

Pure Entertainment

Practical Needs

Random Curiosity

This helps you:

See patterns in your distractions

Identify what truly matters

Transform impulse into intentional learning

Build focus and patience

[madigoround]

So a break down of events:

The hotels near the Madrid airport with connections or shuttles to the airport are all in the 2-300 range and that’s insane

I didn’t want to pay that money and I also didn’t want to pay for a taxi to the airport

I was taking the train from Santiago to Madrid and it had a separate train connecting line to the Madrid airport anyways

I got into Madrid an hour late because of maintenance and then transferred to the airport at around 10, ate food and went through security and then sat at an abandoned area of the airport for a few hours couldn’t fall asleep cause I was nervous cause there were some guys around it wasn’t really abandoned just more like everything was shut down and maybe like 15 people were in that terminal with me

The airport WiFi wasn’t working for some reason

I get a notification at 2:45 that my international data plan I had paid for for the month said I had used up my high speed data and I would still have data just very slow speeds and it was VERY slow like I remember a bit from dial up and slower than that

At 3am I get a message from delta saying there was an issue and my 10am flight to Atlanta and then connection to my state was delayed till 5:45pm and the Atlanta flight was completely going to be missed but I could reschedule my flight if I wanted to for no extra cost

The super slow internet wasn’t working and no delta people were at the airport at 3am so then I decided to spend five dollars on one additional day of high speed data and the only flight options were longer amounts of time with more layovers meaning more flights that I am afraid of but by 3:45 I finally choose a 3 flight option that would leave at 6am but uh oh turns out after I booked that it’s in a different terminal and when I try to ask people how to leave and go to the other terminal they got angry and asked how I was allowed through the boarding area if my ticket wasn’t for that terminal and threw a big hissy fit one guy at an airport information desk heard me use a word in English because I didn’t know whatever I was asking in Spanish so I tried to like build a close sentence in Spanish and then use the English word as context something about a delay and a reschedule and he said he doesn’t help English speakers and turned his swivel chair around and swiveled away at that point I did curse him out because he was supposed to be an information desk for the airport

Someone finally helped me but informed me I needed to run because it was far away and when I got to the check in desk the line was really long and the kiosk wasn’t working and when it finally does the boarder people are mad that I have stamps from the airport security but left the airport to go in the other terminal and that was a whole thing and I’m running across the airport with thirty minutes to go so worried I’m going to miss the flight

Catch a flight to Amsterdam and then repeat the long border lines and running to make my connection

Flew to jfk had an entire row to myself it was pretty nice I was still afraid but I was in the middle row of the plane and it somehow helped I think

My flight from jfk was a little puddle jumper old as all get out and we’re flying through storms and I’m gripping the hand rail thing trying and failing not to cry and I had a window seat and the way we were tipping I was so sure we were going to go falling out of the sky I was convinced for a while it was the last decision I would ever make to get on that plane I was so scared

Finally finally finally home now it’s 6pm my time midnight Spain time I’ve been awake for about 40 hours now I think (did catch a few minutes of sleep at a time on the long plane ride but generally am too scared to do more than pass out for a few minutes) since around 8am Spain time on Monday (I think this is right, we still flew for like 8 hours and then landed and it had only been like two in that time zone or something I don’t know I’m tired)

I have just taken a bath and used moisturizer and now I’m in my first different outfit in three weeks oh my goodness

[greyspirehollow]

MURDER AT THE HOSPITAL Chapter 3

Warnings : discussion of an on-going case ; allusions to medication ; possible signs of depression ;I might’ve not listed them all, I feel like this chapter is lighter than the others

I would rate this chapter and the overall fic 16 +

Liam woke up around 10 AM Sunday. He groaned and rubbed his face, reaching for his phone on the night stand, checking for any notifications. No messages… He shouldn’t be surprised. He looked at his agenda. “oh yeah, right… The lab results” he mumbled, his voice hoarse with sleep. He rolled onto his back with a heavy sigh. Why was it so hard to get out of bed on Sundays…? It’s not like his mattress was overwhelmingly cozy. He took a moment to just lay there, and enjoy the feeling of the covers against himself, of the pillow under his head, of the gentle sound of the rain on his window and closed blinds, and the distant sound of cars passing by. Oh sweet, it was raining ! He smiled slightly and sat up in bed. Despite his lack of motivation, the weather was a bit of an encouragement. He always loved the rain… Sure, it was nicer in more rural areas, but rain is rain, and rain is nice. He stretched, and got up from the bed, yawning. He walked over the chair in the corner of his small bedroom, looking through the clothes carelessly discarded onto it and picking what he’d put on after breakfast. He then walked lazily towards the kitchen, opening the cabinets. Oh, he didn’t have any cookies left… He groaned and decided to make himself a simple hot chocolate. He grabbed his mug and got to the task.

All the blinds were almost fully closed, leaving the tiny apartment in a dull grey-ish morning light. Liam leaned back against the sink as he drank his hot chocolate. He let his gaze wander over what he called his place ; the bed sheets were messy, and the clothes onto the chair next to it didn’t help. There were no decorations, and the walls were a depressing blank white. He remembered he’d actually taken off the decorations, he’d come to dislike them after a while. The door to the bathroom was open ; the blue tiles made the inside look like a generic stock image and the shower’s glass door could use a good wipe, the thin layer of dried limestone residue from the water clinging to the transparent material like fungus. Near his closet in the bedroom was a desk, filled to the brim with endless papers : research, prescriptions, taxes, rent… He then spotted the familiar orange bottle of medication onto his night stand. It was almost the only touch of color amidst all thhis. The irony… There wasn’t much else to look at… It was a very small apartment after all. It was bland. A bit messy. This wasn’t a home. This was just… A place. His place.

He sighed as he finished his hot chocolate, a heavy feeling in his chest, and got ready to head out to the lab, grabbing his wallet, keys, and pack of cigarettes.

It was around 2 PM when Liam headed towards the central-city’s gym. He’d sent a text to Vulgora about the results and they’d just asked him to go meet them there. He looked up at the building’s facade, then stepped in. He immediately felt a little self-conscious as he saw all those muscular people go about their workout routine. He felt his cheeks flush and a sad feeling tugging at his heartstrings – he’d never had the courage to start working out himself, and it was something he was… Ashamed of. He shook his head and focused on finding Vulgora, file tucked under his arm and hands in the pocket of his black hoodie.

He wandered towards the treadmills, but not finding them there he turned around and spotted them at the other side of the gym, towards the weights. He steeled himself and walked over there.

Vulgora didn’t hear him approach, their bluetooth earbuds blasting Rob Zombie into their eardrums as they focused on the weight at their feet which they were about to lift yet again. A thin layer of sweat coated their forehead, making a few strands of hair stick to it. They furrowed their brows, while Liam watched wide-eyed as they leaned down, picked up and lifted the bar with little to no struggle, their muscles flexing with practiced ease. ‘How much is that…?’ wondered Liam. Vulgora held the weights up for a good fifteen seconds before letting it drop back down on the floor with a loud THUD, a heavy sigh and a grunt. They shook their hands slightly, re-adjusting their gloves when they finally spotted Liam. He watched the other man and the way his jaw hung slack. “what?” they asked impatiently, removing their earbuds.

Liam tried to gather his thoughts, blinking a few times and remembering why he was there in the first place. “Uhm… here-” he held up the folder. “I’ve got the lab results.” he said, as Vulgora nodded before talking a gulp of water out of their bottle. They grabbed a towel which they carelessly threw over their shoulder before gathering their stuff back in their sport backpack. Liam couldn’t help but ask…

“How much was that?”

“170.” Vulgora responded nonchalantly. Liam raised an eyebrow, slightly confused.

“Pounds?”

“Kilograms.”

The man felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of his sockets, but he was not prepared for what they said next. They grinned as they added : “And I’m a little rusty. I went up to 215 once.”

The air was positively knocked out of Liam’s lungs, which earned a prideful chuckle out of the red-haired police officer. “Come on ! We’ll go sit at the Rowdy Raven and you can tell me all about it.” they said, before walking towards the exit, Liam after them.

As they sat down at a table in a more secluded corner, and both ordered themselves a drink. As Vulgora flipped through the file, Liam lit himself a cigarette, waiting until they were done looking over it all. Their brows were furrowed as they focused, while Liam’s eyes wandered over the pictures from where he sat. A strange numbness overcame his mind – he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was familiar with corpses, sure. But it was rare to stumble upon such a peculiar specimen… woah woah woah not the time to think like that Liam, someone died. He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting in his seat and looking away, drawing a puff out of his cigarette. He looked up at the TV broadcasting the news, and focused on the headline : “Worrisome disappearances in South End” ; but before he could listen to any of the reports, Vulgora spoke up.

“That body was in Eltowen forest? That’s out the city…” they mused aloud. Liam nodded, his mind going back to the crime scene.

“It was dug up two days before we found it. Like I had suspected it was in a humid area, but it rains quite often around Eltowen so I’m not so surprised.”

Vulgora nodded slowly, their eyes going over the report. “Death by strangulation… And traces of stab wounds?”

Liam nodded, then commented “It’s possible Rick tried to defend himself and knocked the weapon out of the murderer’s hands, who then had to resort to strangling him. But it can also be the opposite, maybe they stabbed first and finished him by strangulation. I don’t know why they would, though.”

The way Liam was so nonchalant about this made them scrunch their nose slightly. But well, in his line of work, they could guess he had to separate himself from all this to not let the atrocities get to his head… They decided to shift the subject, if only a tiny bit.

“What about Rick himself? Do we know anything about him?”

Liam tapped some ash from his cigarette into the ash tray on the table while answering : “He lived in the Heart Disrtrict, around Red Street in a small average neighborhood. He worked at the concrete factory, uhm- I think it’s called Tower? And he has a wife and a single kid, a toddler.”

Vulgora nodded, their lips pursed in thought “So… A normal, respectable member of society…? Dammit, that doesn’t help much.” they sighed “We’ll have to interrogate the wife.” They weren’t too thrilled by the idea.

Liam nodded and added : “The wife, the friends, the coworkers, the superiors… We’ll have to see what kind of path he took every day to go to work, too.”

Vulgora had to hold back a groan, already bored by the mere idea of doing all that. Liam continued, smiling slightly. “Then if we find anything we’ll have to get a warrant, and then try and search people’s homes, and-”

“uuuUUUGHHH-” Vulgora groaned as they leaned their head back against the wall, earning a chuckle out of the man sitting across them.

It was around 4 PM when Liam and Vulgora finished discussing the investigation, and although the scientist had tried to make conversation through a bit of small talk, Vulgora seemed unusually closed off about their life at the moment. They’d left a little more pissed off than usual after downing their whiskey. He walked back towards his apartment complex. It was only a few minutes away, after all. He climbed the stairs, the sounds of his steps bouncing off the near walls until he reached the second floor, and opened the apartment’s door with his keys. It was exactly as he left it.

He sighed and went to wash his hands and face, then changed into something more comfortable. He walked over the window and opened it, leaning on the edge and lighting himself another cigarette, while looking at the rows of buildings and the sky above. The sun was already low, just touching the top of the buildings, another reminder that winter was coming closer each day that passed. He got lost in thoughts for a little longer when he was pulled out of his daze by his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Curious, he went over there and picked it up, expecting a text from Julian. He didn’t look at the screen before he was back on his spot at the window. His brows furrowed when he saw the message was from an unsaved number…

Liam stared wide eyed at his screen as the conversation with the neurosurgeon ended. His fingers were burning with the need to talk more, to send them all the lab results that had come in today, to voice all his thoughts and freshly formed theories about the case… He sighed, drawing a puff of his cigarette, trying to clear his head. But he couldn’t help but wonder why the doctor was so interested in the investigation – besides, they were the top suspect… Did they have something to do with that murder? Were they toying with him? He bit down on his lip, the gears in his head churning. He let out a heavy sigh as he left the window, and plopped back down on his bed. At least, this was a welcome distraction from the monotony of his routine...

Author's note : I'M SORRY THIS EPISODE IS SO RUSHED waaah - I just struggle a little with the story's progression,, I don't want to go TOO fast but at the same time I wanna write the SERIOUS STUFF ARGH

Feedback is always greatly appreciated !!

[sturniololoco]

Big Game Pt 2

SLS x Nathan Doe

warnings: blood, anger, language, et.

Nate’s POV

This car ride was taking longer than it should have, especially with SLS/N sitting this close to me.

Our thought were touching due to the little room we had in the back seat with three people. Our elbows kept knocking together, earning shy apologies from me.

But the hardest part was seeing her in my jersey. It was big on her, and she was pulling the sleeves of Chris’s hoodie over her hands and making sweater paws. She’s too adorable for me to stand.

I tried to distract myself by putting in my AirPods and looking out the window, thinking about the game. But my mind just couldn’t get off the girl in the backseat with me.

-

We pulled into the parking lot of the rink, then grabbed our gear and sticks. Nick had his camera, while SLS/N still had her hands wrapped up in her hoodie.

It was freezing when we walked in, heading to the bleachers. Chris, Matt and I were on varsity, so we had to watch JV play first.

The three of us separated from Nick and SLS/N went over to sit with our team. I glanced back at them, catching SLS/N eye. She smiled softly and waved.

Every so often I would catcher eye, and we would giggle silently. The she pointed to her phone, signaling for me to pick up mine. Just as I unlocked it, I got a snap notification from her.

I opened it, revealing a picture of Nick and her. She had her sweater paw covering her mouth in mock awe, her nose scrunched, freckles popping. It was captioned,

I know understand why you guys wear these jerseys, it's the only thing keeping me warm.

I smiled before leaning over to take one back with Chris, replying,

yea, you look good with my name on your back.

I felt my cheeks heat up as soon as I pressed send. I then put my phone down and averted looking at her for the rest of the game.

-

There was about 10 minutes left of the JV game, so the team went in the locker room to get their gear on. As I was buckling my shoulder pads, Chris leaned over and said,

"So you and my sister, huh? I could see that."

I tried to studder out an answer, to tell him that wasn't like that, so I wasn't beat into a pulp. But I was interrupted.

"Yeah, I could see it. I guess I wouldn't mind having you as a brother-in-law." Matt said, winking before he pulled his jersey over his head.

My face was the color of a tomato by this point, and I was still stuttering, and just as I was about to get the words out of my mouth, the buzzer rang, telling us it's time to get on the ice. I tried to shake the thought of SLS/N.

It's game time.

-

I was mad.

This oversized dick head, who was way bigger than me, has been shoving me to the floor this entire game, and it wasn't even halftime.

We were down by one point with 2 minutes left in the half. All of the sudden I feel a shove to my back and I'm flying, face first into the ice.

I feel my nose smack the rink, hard. Lifting my head up, I see blood splattered all over the ice, staining it red. I feel the warm liquid from my nose flowing down my face.

I stand up fat, my temper rising even faster. Before I could thing about what I was doing, I swung my stick. Right at the back of Mr. Dickheads face.

and was sent to the penalty box.

-

As soon as the buzzer rang for half time, I was out there. I walked past the locker rooms to the front entrance area, needing some air.

My anger hasn't stopped pouring out of me, neither has the blood from my nose. I slam my stick down on the floor, letting out a loud "Fuck!"

I sit down on one of the benches, elbows on my knees, head down, breathing heavy.

"Nate?"

I hear a small voice say, and I look up. I see SLS/N peeking her head around the corner. She has her hands slightly wrapped around her torso, sweater paws still intact. She gives me a sympathetic smile as she walks over to me.

I put my head back down, staring hard at the floor. I can't believe she's seeing me like this.

She comes to a stop right in front of me, kneeling down slightly. She lightly grabs my bloody chin, lifting my face up to meet her eyes. She eyes my bloody nose.

"Aw you poor thing." She mumbles under her breath.

She takes the bottom of the jersey she was wearing, my jersey, and wipes my face gently, carful around my nose. I can already feel it bruising.

All of the sudden, I feel my eyes begin to water, my anger and frustration turning into tears. I internally curse myself for acting like this in front of SLS/N.

She notices and pulls my forehead into her upper stomach. The tears begin to fall as she lightly plays with the hair on the nape of my neck.

"I know you're frustrated, but you're so strong. I believe in you Nate. Nothings gonna change that." She says, pressing a light kiss to the top of my head.

I look up at her and nod, then stand up. Just before she leaves to go find Nick, she wraps her arms around my torso and squeezes lightly. I hug her right back, mumbling a soft thank you into her hair.

-

I see Chris on the other side of the rink, parallel to me. I signal for him to cross it to me. He does, putting it right in front of the goal. The goalie dove for it, but I was faster. I swung my stick as hard and as fast as I could and heard the smack of contact from the puck to my stick. The light on the inside of the goal lit, signaling that I had scored.

Then the buzzer went off.

We won.

My teammates flooded onto the ice, surrounding me into a tight huddle, cheering, yelling, and hollering.

But I didn't care about that.

All I cared about was getting to those bleachers to see the girl, who was jumping up and down cheering, sweater paws over her hands.

Part three tomorrow!!!

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (May 28th, 2024)

There is a new game update for The Sims 4, to prepare the game to the upcoming kits. Read it all on the blog post below.

If you have auto updates enabled in Origin’s “Application Settings”, the game will auto-update once you open Origin. If you have auto-updates disabled, you will need to manually update by clicking the game in your library.Advertisement

To ensure your game is up to date, check the game version found in Documents > EA > The Sims 4 > GameVersion.txt. Your game should now read: PC: PC: 1.107.112.1030 / Mac: 1.107.112.1230 / Console: 1.92

Sul Sul Simmers! It’s time for some late Spring cleaning! Let’s fix some things and make a few improvements. We’ve got quite the spread, with a host of resolutions for base game issues as well as addressing a wide assortment of packs. There’re also some performance gains, gallery updates, and DirectX 11 previews. We squeezed lots into this release, but there’s still more to come! Talk to you soon!

-The Sims 4 Team

Bug Fixes & Updates

Base Game

Oh you thought you could hide, dishes? We will find you and we will wash you. Dishes left in corners will no longer be ignored when cleaning up.

Begone weeds! Plants won’t grow weeds when Out of Season. If a plant has them when it becomes Out of Season, the weeds will be removed until it’s In Season again.

Campfires will stop causing so many fires on the lot. Campfire spreadfire was triggering a 50% chance every 10 sim-minutes to burn objects other than chairs in the area. We removed that to only focus on when Fireworks trigger (which we all know is the real danger).

“A Trash Can Is Required“ message will no longer display when trash cans are present on the active lot. Get that garbage outta here.

Skills will not randomly increase or change when leaving the lot or editing the household. If your Sim knows, they know.

The skills list is arranged in alphabetical order and my eye will no longer twitch when looking at it.

TS4 Packs are listed in the right order in the Build/Buy filter. Get back in line For Rent, Home Chef Hustle and Crystal Creations!

Careers will no longer have a blank daily task menu.

Summon Grilled Cheese interaction will no longer drop from the interaction queue.

Sim will no longer get stuck in the ground and continue to Swim Laps if the pool is removed in the middle of it. Because physics. Now the Sim will reset. Because magic.

Calendar notification light will remain on after traveling. No forgetting those important events.

Customizable pronouns were adjusted to appear correctly on a few of the Romantic Relationship phone calls and will no longer display improper usage like “ask their out.”

Sims can properly merge or move households with NPC Sims “not in world“; the merge/move button is now accessible. It’s all about bringing families together!

Console

After switching to build mode from world map a red bar will no longer display in the upper right corner.

Performance

We’ve made some optimizations so the game uses less memory. You may experience fewer crashes, better frame rate, and/or more responsive simulation.

We’ve improved the lot load process so it should happen a bit faster.

Cats & Dogs / City Living

Small dogs, puppies, and kittens will properly use the elevator to go downstairs from Penthouses. They can finally go potty! Poor little things.

Cottage Living

Hatchable and spoiled eggs will now remain visible in the Chicken coop whenever the Sim travels to the lot.

Dine Out

‘Order For Table’ interaction will properly clear from the interaction queue after the waiter delivers food to the table.

Home Chef Hustles players can now add Waffles to the Restaurant Menu. More menu additions to come.

DirectX 11 Preview

DirectX 11 is available on The Sims 4 on an opt-in basis and will be rolled out fully in a later update for Simmers running Windows. If you opt to run The Sims 4 using DirectX 11, you will potentially experience enhanced game performance and graphics quality. This update is designed to increase the overall gaming experience, with improved rendering capabilities that will allow for more details and immersive environments in future releases! We would appreciate your feedback and any issues you experience on our DirectX 11 Answers HQ thread.

Simmers running Windows and have DirectX 11 compatible hardware can now enter the argument -dx11 into the EA App or Steam to switch to using this renderer. You will be able to see which DirectX version The Sims 4 is using in your game version information displayed in the bottom right corner of the Main Menu.

You can find all the information you need to check if your PC is DirectX 11 compatible and learn how to enter launch arguments for both EA App and Steam here.

While DirectX 11 is available for those Simmers who want to try it, you may experience visual issues with mods so we recommend disabling all mods while using this command line argument.

Eco Lifestyle

Nose rings will no longer break when paired with brow piercings from this pack.

For Rent

Property Ownership of “Tam Nang Sands“ lot will be recognized in the owned rental tab.

“Unpleasant Surroundings“ Moodlet no longer triggered from the Pressure cooker and Kettle.

Tourist location icons will now appear correctly when hovering over the Tomarang world select screen.

Gallery Server

All profanity filter false positive reports sent to us via  The Sims 4 Gallery Profanity Filter Feedback survey up to May 1st have been reviewed and changes implemented. We appreciate all the reports and responses and will continue to update our systems based on your feedback.

Non-anonymous Gallery users appearing in the Following and Followers tabs will once again display the number of Followers each user has.

Get to Work

Aliens will stop having noticeable changes in facial structure (placement, size, etc) when aging up. No more morph faces.

Growing Together

The “Had a Baby“ Milestone now triggers from having a Science Baby or giving birth at the hospital rabbithole.

High School Years

Teens cannot send flirty messages on Social Bunny to adults or household family members.

After a teen high school Sim completes all tasks and aces exams, they will also be promoted to a better grade. They’ve earned it!

Horse Ranch

We all know how cute they are, but Sims will no longer autonomously want to buy mini goats (causing the UI to pop up).

Nectar value is now properly increased when selling to the mysterious rancher.

Horses will no longer get stuck while sleeping too close to the Horse training ball.

Island Living

Mermaid Conservationists can now complete the “Snorkel in Mua Pel’am“ job task.

Seasons

During winter, the weeding animation will no longer repeat and the Sim will actually remove all the weeds surrounding the plants. Checkmate weeds!

[sassytyrantgalaxy]

Vampire Magnifo x Flora lore!!! (Just so the drawing makes sense)

It was a quiet Friday night for Flora, as she had just gotten out of the shower and into comfy pj's for the night, but before heading to bed, she decided to sit down and watch some TV, maybe catch up on a show she's been needing to watch lately... until, her phone suddenly started to buzz...she picked up her phone and saw 1 notification on it

A message, from her sister Scarlett, that only said:

"Turn the news on now, it's very serious"

Confused, She turned on the news, and the following was said

"Breaking news, a new body has been discovered in an dark alley way, this is now the 8th body that has been discovered this week, police are saying that all the victims have the same cause of death, two puncture wounds in the neck area, causing to bleed out, these victims skins appear to be very pale too

It's unknown who or even what is causing these deaths, but the police are warning everyone to stay indoors and lock all your doors and windows at night, as this killer seems to only target people at night"

...a killer? That only appears at night? and his pattern is..two puncture wounds in the neck?? Flora grabbed her phone and immediately texted Scarlett

Flora:

You don't think the killer is a vampire, right? I mean, puncture wounds in the neck and only killing at night?

Scarlett:

It's possible, but just to be safe, just lock everything up for the night before you go to bed sis, me and Glomp already did

10 pm: Flora locks all her doors and windows for the night, and immediately gets into bed, and falls asleep...but little did she know, she had forgotten one window...the window to her bedroom

Midnight...: Footprints quietly walk towards Flora's house and stop...it was the vampire lord Magnifo...the most feared vampire amongst the lower ranked vampires, right in front of her house..but disappointed that everything was locked, preventing him from getting in...until, he noticed one window wasn't locked...

The one leading to the bedroom

Perfect...he climbed up to the window and quietly opened the window, entering his new victim's bedroom...he looked down at the victim but...froze...this was different from his other victims, he had never seen anyone so..cute before so... beautiful..he couldn't kill this one, no, this girl wasn't gonna be his new victim..she was gonna be his queen, his new wife

He gently shook the girl awake...Flora rubbed her eyes, and looked up to see who woke her up..only to see the killer in her bedroom, looking down at her..

She nearly screamed but the vampire put his hand over her mouth and pinned her to the bed, as he started to talk to her

"oh don't scream, my beautiful Rose~ I'm not gonna kill you like my other victims, oh no no no, I'm gonna keep you as my beautiful wife~ but in order to make sure you're mine...I'm gonna have to damage you, my beautiful rose..I have to bite you...that way, the other vampires can know, your mine~"

Flora was panting hard, shaking, and scared for her life but...in the end, this vampire was sparing her life...but, if she'd disagree, he would most likely kill her...she had no choice, she exposed her neck area, allowing the bite to come...

Magnifo chuckled.."Good girl~"

He lifted her up and positioned her in a way he could bite her from behind...with one hiss, he bit down hard on her neck, causing Flora to yelp in pain

He held her gently as he sucked her blood and once finished, he let go of her neck, blood dripping down his mouth, as he licked the blood like he just had a good meal..

Tears flowed down Flora's eyes as she whimpered in pain... Magnifo comforted his new soon-to-be wife, as he cleaned her injury....Finally..after 300 years...he finally found a wife

....this drawing took me 3 days to finish :D

AND IDK HOW TO DRAW BACKGROUNDSSSS (⁠*⁠ﾉ⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♫

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Camp Wanamaker (Ch 7/10)

August 13, 2023

Notes - First of all, Eleanor, I just want to say that I got the notification for your next part as I was getting in bed last night, and if forcing myself to not read it yet wasn't torture enough, I made myself finish this chapter so I'd have that as a reward. I'll probably have to read it in the morning now as I'm exhausted tonight, but I am so excited to get into it! You have no idea! Second, there are so many scrapped versions of this chapter, it's insane! I really just wanted to focus on the relationships and how they work. I was going to post this yesterday, but ended up deleting most of the last part so that I could really focus on the ending. In the end, this chapter is, probably, one of the most easter-egg-filled ones I’ve written so far, and I’m immensely proud of it.

Chapter 7 - Lay All Your Love On Me

For the first time in two weeks, silence permeated the air of Camp Wanamaker. It wasn’t unusual, per se, to have some semblance of quiet after the campers left the grounds, but after getting used to the noise and excitement that filled every open space of the camp, the silence was almost too much for many of the workers. Thankfully, the silence hadn’t been there for long as rain filled the area. A week of nothing but rain and cloudy, dreary days had been forecasted for the majority of New Hampshire as a storm from Nova Scotia loomed closer and closer to the coastal state.

Many of the camp’s staff were glad the clouds had waited for the campers to flee the area before unleashing their downpours, while others were simply glad to receive some form of reprieve from the scorching temperatures and chokingly thick humidity. Those with breathing difficulties had found safety in buildings with air conditioning units throughout the weeks, but as everyone adjusted to the cool rain, the metal window fixtures were found to be practically pointless.

As the familiar, chirpy rhythm of an almost too-upbeat eighties song echoed over the speakers as a wake-up call, Mick looked up from the novel she had been reading for well over an hour. Rolling her eyes with a smirk, she softly began singing along to the lyrics as Dead or Alive’s mega-hit song You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) played throughout the camp. She wasn’t too surprised by the choice as Vivien’s grandfather had played a majority of eighties hits over the last seven weeks of camp, but as Miles stumbled his way out of his room looking as though he would break the camp’s announcement system if given the chance, it seemed as though not everyone was as thrilled by the choice as she was.

Watching as Miles grumbled a greeting to those on the couch before making his way down the hallway toward the kitchen, Mick shook her head and returned to her book. She often wondered how he had managed to survive without Vivien’s coffee concoctions first thing in the morning. She could recall making coffee runs for him early on in their friendship, bringing him three cups of coffee throughout the workday just to get him functioning properly. Now that he had Vivien personally making him some of whatever blend she normally fixed for herself in the morning, he was drinking a bit less and still getting through just fine. Granted, even if Vivien’s mystery blend had tasted like nothing more than watered-down dirt in a mug, she was sure Miles still would have drunk it. He needed caffeine to function and, if that meant chugging his way through disgustingly mud-like sludge in a cup, Mick knew he would do just that to get some semblance of alertness.

As the main character of her book, Beatrice Prior, followed the tour guide through the Dauntless compound, Mick distantly overheard Vivien and Royce snickering in the hallway as they made their way to the living room from the kitchen. She couldn’t hear most of what they were saying, but she could guess it had to have something to do with Miles as Royce mentioned something about the flavored creamer they would have to replace sooner rather than later. As the pair made their way through the living room, prying Bentley from his spot on the couch as they went, Mick looked up from her book, making sure the young trio stayed out of the rain as they headed outside to sit on the porch swing. 

It wasn’t odd for them to sit outside while it rained, but Mick knew they had a tendency to sit on the steps or on the sand near the deck, letting the rain soak them until they looked more like drowned possums than anything. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to get sick on their week off. However, much to Mick’s pleasure, they simply took their places on the porch swing and began reading together. Grateful that the screen door allowed her to observe them from a distance, Mick hummed softly to herself before returning to her book. After a while, Riven joined them outside and Mick’s senty-like watch fell as she relaxed further into the couch’s cushions. The kids were safe with Riven around; that was all she needed to know.

They wouldn’t have long to sit around and relax before breakfast, that much she knew, but the draw of her book was too strong to fight. After spending the last week standing in for a girl named Hayden who suffered a case of sun poisoning and could barely move, let alone act in their murder mystery plot, Mick felt she deserved a break. She wasn’t an actress and, despite how welcoming and reassuring everyone had been when she joined them in the mess hall for a quick practice every morning, the week had been nothing but stress for her. Getting thrown a new script after dinner every day and having to put on a good show for the campers wasn’t as easy as everyone else made it out to be. 

Mick didn’t look up again until the couch shifted, the newcomer’s weight tilting her slightly to the right. Glancing at Miles from the corner of her eyes, Mick placed her index finger between the pages of her book as a bookmark and closed it, leaning her head on Miles’ shoulder as he leaned his head back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The two sat in silence for a while, the only noises in the area being the heavy droplets of rain and the occasional chirp of the kids’ voices. With everything going on, a majority of the camp’s staff hadn’t had the opportunity to sit in relative silence, but to Mick, it felt like something more meaningful than that.

She and Miles had known each other for over three years at that point and, despite the time they spent with everyone else, they hardly had the time to spend one-on-one time with each other. With how busy everyone was that summer, she wasn’t surprised that they couldn’t find the time to just relax and hang out, but even before the summer started, Miles was always with the kids or Carrie, spending little time with Mick or Butchy. She wasn’t one to complain as she knew the kids were Miles’ top priority, but she sort of missed being able to sit around on the couch, talking with Miles, or playing video games with him like old times. 

Granted, it wasn’t just with Miles that Mick felt this way. Though she would hate to admit it, she had begun to feel rather lonely. She would never voice her feelings, though. Everyone had so much on their plates already and, if she were to unleash all that had piled up in her head, it would only add to the mounting levels of stress everyone was already under. That was the last thing she wanted. For the time being, she would simply have to suck it up and deal with her emotions on her own. She could handle herself. Besides, even if someone were to call her out on her behavior, she could easily blame it on her period; it was almost a week later than normal anyway and wouldn’t be an outlandish excuse.

Just as she was about to lift her head from Miles’ shoulder, she felt him shift, his head lifting from the couch and his arm pulling out from under her to wrap around her shoulders. As she brought her arm around her makeshift brother’s middle, a light pressure to her hair had Mick tightening her grasp on him. Miles sighed as he asked, “Are you feeling alright?”

Shrugging minutely, Mick breathed, “Just tired.”

Miles lightly squeezed Mick’s shoulder and rubbed at her upper arm as he snickered, “That’s supposed to be my job, Mickie.”

Allowing her eyes to close, Mick chuckled airily, “In that case, it sounds like you’d better put in for unemployment because I’m taking your job today.”

Miles allowed himself to smile, but as he peered down at the younger girl, he could feel his expression falter. Dark circles inhabited the usually tan skin under Mick’s eyes, her normally sun-kissed skin appeared paler than normal, and her lips were drawn together in a tight line. He had seen her like this before when she was sick, but as far as he knew, Mick hadn’t been sick for almost a year. She was far healthier than most people Miles knew and her immune system was something of an impenetrable fortress, so for her to look physically ill and drained of color, something had to be wrong. Granted, her appearance could have been due to stress or lack of sleep, but it still worried Miles all the same.

Just as he was about to voice his concerns, Butchy entered the room, tucking his cell phone into his back pocket as he smiled at the pair on the couch. Before the older of the two bikers could greet them, Miles raised his free hand and gestured for him to stop. Once Butchy had stilled by the end of the couch, an eyebrow raised questioningly toward his long-time friend, Miles pointed toward Mick before silently asking if she was okay. Butchy shrugged, not having spent much time with his wife in the last week due to their conflicting schedules. Leaning to the side slightly and taking a better look at Mick’s appearance, however, Butchy regretted not setting aside time for her sooner. 

Meeting Miles’ worried gaze once more, Butchy opened his mouth to greet them when a certain blonde stepped into the room from the hallway, calling out a chirpy, “Good morning!”

As Mick’s eyes peeled open, Butchy attempted to act as though he had just entered the room, taking a place on the couch as his wife and Miles gave greetings of their own to Carrie. As Mick sat up to give Miles and Carrie the opportunity to spend some time together, Butchy watched from the other side of the couch, making sure she was moving well enough and checking to see if he needed to help her in any way. His wife settled in with her book as Carrie curled into Miles’ left side and, while Butchy would typically make some snide remark about her or try to goad her into an argument of some sort, he couldn’t find it in himself to try. Despite Carrie’s clipped remark about how quiet it was that morning - a sign that even she had noticed Butchy’s silence - he couldn’t bring himself to care. His focus was solely aimed at Mick as she turned from one page to another.

By the time the breakfast notice echoed through the grounds, Carrie and Miles had left the cabin to sit outside with the kids, leaving Butchy and Mick to their own devices. Butchy was almost certain that Miles would use the time to tell the others that something wasn’t quite right with Mick - his brotherly instincts toward the young woman too strong to fight - and he was grateful for the peace and quiet all the same. Mick either hadn’t noticed their solitude or simply hadn’t voiced her opinion on the situation, but either way, it allowed Butchy to move across the couch and get a closer look at his wife’s condition.

Apart from her tired outward appearance, Butchy couldn’t be sure if anything was wrong. She hadn’t coughed or sneezed, she hadn’t rushed to the bathroom to be sick, and she wasn’t shuddering from a cold shiver that nobody else seemed to have. If it weren’t for her skin taking on a pale, sunken-in appearance, he wouldn’t be worried. She looked exhausted and Butchy hoped that it was just that - exhaustion. He hoped it wasn’t something serious. He wasn’t quite sure how he would handle it if it was something more than that. 

Regardless, as the call for breakfast came through over the speakers and the others came inside to grab raincoats or umbrellas, Butchy watched as Mick tucked a sticky note into the book she had been occupied with and rose from the couch, making her way toward the coat rack where she grabbed her trusty poncho. Butchy was quick to follow her, hoping to keep an eye on her as much as he could until he could figure out what was wrong. He would give her a few days and check in with her to see how she was holding up. Maybe she just needed to take a break and recuperate from the stress of the previous week. Yeah, Butchy thought to himself, maybe that was it.

Weathermen were good liars. Anyone in the northeastern United States could tell you that. It seemed as though all the news companies decided to band together one day and lie to everyone about the weather for the rest of human existence. If they forecasted hurricane-force winds or strong thunderstorms, the most any New Englander would feel were some light breezes or a drizzling of rain. It was when they reported sunshine that you knew something was up. Unless you were already dealing with a heat wave, you knew that smiling cartoon of a sun wearing sunglasses on the television screen would be taunting you with the idea of a nice, warm, sunny day. 

The ever-changing, New England weather was nothing new to Hayley Mays. She had grown up in New Hampshire’s bipolar weather; her skin thickening with the winter cold and tanning with the summer sun. Almost all of her thirty-eight years of life had been spent either swimming in the nearby lake or shoveling snow out of her neighbors’ driveways with her sister. And she had done both of those things in the same week more than once.

Hayley had grown used to the weatherman’s constant lies. Brian Strzempko and his pack of lies greeted her nearly every morning when she would go downstairs for breakfast at her parents’ house, spouting off about the expected hail or “three inches” of snow. Every morning, she would roll her eyes; someone needed to get that man a ruler. Nowadays, Hayley and Charlie would get their news off of their phones and, even though Hayley still refused to believe whatever the forecast was, she knew Charlie still had the false hope that whoever made the forecast would be right. Granted, Charlie wasn’t from New England and presumably trusted the meteorologists back in Virginia. 

Hayley had been fairly surprised when she discovered in college that the news anchors in Virginia didn’t lie nearly as much as they did in her home state. When she had questioned Charlie about it, her - at the time - twenty-year-old friend was confused, but it was obvious that the confusion had quickly washed away after she moved to New Hampshire a handful of years down the road. Regardless of the weathermen and the lies they fed the people, Charlie still checked her weather app religiously and Hayley still wondered why.

Take that Monday, for example. The forecast called for a party-cloudy day with a high of eighty-one degrees - a simple, sunny day with low humidity. Despite Hayley’s discrete eye roll as her beloved wife read out the forecast over their morning tea session, Charlie had chosen to wear her finest pair of overall shorts and a pink, frilly tee with lace lining. Hayley, on the other hand, kept it simple with a pair of gray shorts she’d bought from the men’s section for extra length and a shirt from an old bowling alley she had worked at, keeping her clear plastic, raincoat wrapped around her waist for the inevitable downpour.

She wasn’t going to admit defeat as they touched down on the pine-needle-laden ground, the sun blaring down overhead. Even as the sun rose higher and the heat began to grow, Hayley refused to hang her coat up. As she and Charlie parted ways - Hayley busying herself with painting while Charlie worked with the playhouse staff to set up for the next two weeks of play practice - she handed her trust raincoat to her wife with a knowing smile and a bid of good luck and made her way to the art barn.

Having gotten quite used to the presence of her biological daughter’s best friend, Hayley offered Bentley a gentle smile as the boy looked up from the lump of clay he was attempting to shape. “How’s it coming, little man?”

“It’s not,” Bentley sighed as Hayley approached him. “I was trying to make a coffee mug for Miles but my foot hit the pedal while I was smoothing it with the spatula thing and I ended up stabbing a hole in it and it caved in on itself.”

“Yeesh,” Hayley cringed, examining the blob of clay on Bentley’s tray. “Starting from scratch again?”

“I’m gonna try,” Bentley nodded, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Pushing the boy’s hair from his face, Hayley grabbed an extra elastic from her wrist and secured his hair in a little bump before pressing a kiss to his forehead with a smile of encouragement. “Well, you know where to find me if you need help.”

“And I probably will,” Bentley chuckled. 

Hayley nudged the teenager as she began walking away, “You and I both know that isn’t true. You’re an incredible artist, Ben.”

“Thanks, Aunt Hayley.”

Hayley’s hand froze as she searched the drying racks for the canvas she had been working on recently. It wasn’t often that Vivien’s friends called her by anything more than her first name or “Vivien’s aunt” - save for Riven, who had always claimed he considered her the aunt he never had. While she welcomed the term with ease normally, this was the first time Bentley had chosen to do so. Turning to smile at the young boy, Hayley watched as he worked on the clump of clay before him, having already moved on from the conversation. 

Taking in a breath, Hayley hummed softly and pulled her canvas from the racks, setting up an easel near the window so that she could watch the weather change and keep an eye on the youngest boy at the camp. While they worked, Hayley found herself listening as the young boy to her left began humming old songs, occasionally joining him when she knew the tune. Whether he noticed or not, she didn’t know, but the small, wordless interaction brought a smile to her face all the same. Just as they worked their way to the chorus of Elvis Presley’s famous “(You’re the) Devil In Disguise”, a deep growl of thunder rumbled overhead, signaling a storm inbound.

Glancing out the window at the playhouse where everyone began carrying things inside to keep them safe from the rain, Hayley snickered softly to herself, “Told ya so.”

“Huh?” Bentley wondered, looking over from his seat.

Hayley shook her head with a smile, “Just something I said to Charlie this morning.”

Shrugging, Bentley returned to his work and Hayley glanced out the window once more, watching as her wife hastily grabbed a piece of plastic from one of the nearby picnic tables and pulled it over her shoulders, tugging the hood over her head in disbelief as she began instructing her fellow staff members on where to put everything. Hayley grinned as she returned to her painting, allowing the gentle pattering of rain on the roof to ease her back into her work. However, it wasn’t long before the door of the art barn swung open and slammed shut once again, revealing a rather soaked Makana Birch. 

As the girl turned to rest against the door, wide-eyed and out of breath from running, Hayley got a good look at her. The girl’s cheap, knock-off Converse squelched puddles on the hardwood floors, her hair clung to her skin as though it had been glued down, and her shirt would have been see-through if it wasn’t red, but that wasn’t what caught Hayley’s eye. Instead, it was Mick’s pair of recently tie-dyed, terry cloth shorts that clearly didn’t get rinsed out well enough as they dripped a myriad of colors down the girl’s legs. It didn’t seem as though Mick noticed the issue as she stared up at the ceiling and fought to catch her breath, but Hayley quickly realized Bentley had seen it as well.

Before Bentley could say anything, Hayley stood from her seat and put a hand on his shoulder, lightly shaking her head when he looked up at her. Nodding understandingly, Bentley watched as Hayley crossed the room and grabbed a towel from the closet where they kept some backup umbrellas and rain ponchos along with the cleaning supplies. Handing Mick the towel, Hayley made sure she was breathing well enough before asking, “What happened to you?”

Wrapping the soft towel around her shoulders, Mick sucked in a breath and explained, “We were cleaning the pool and got the town’s all-call about some potential tornados in the area. Noah and some of the others took off to warn the people in the music hall and dance studio while I put everything away. This is my first stop.”

“And your last,” Hayley commented, prying Mick from the door and ushering her to a chair that had enough dried paint on it that it could probably be kept in an art exhibit.

“What do you mean?” Mick asked, using the ends of the towel to dry her face slightly as Hayley led her away.

This time, it was Bentley who answered as he wheeled his seat over toward Mick, “You look like you’re bleeding a rainbow out of your shorts.”

Moving the towel from her face, Mick looked down and let out a shocked breath as she took in the state of her legs. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whined. “I just made these shorts two days ago!”

Bentley attempted to hide his smirk as he said, “Now they look like the inside of a bag of M&Ms when you hold it too long.”

Mick let out a disgruntled noise as she dropped into her chair, examining her stained skin with a look of disdain. “How on earth am I going to get this off?”

“We’ll try some petroleum jelly,” Hayley spoke calmly. “That’s how I used to get hair dye of my skin. If it doesn’t work, we’ll get some rubbing alcohol or acetone. We’ll find a way to get it off.”

Mick heaved a sigh, glancing at her hands to make sure she hadn’t gotten dye on her fingers before running them through her hair, pushing clinging strands from her face. “I think I’m going to go back to the cabin. Maybe a shower will get some of it off.”

“Maybe,” Bentley commented. “I’ll bring some acetone just in case.”

Mick brushed him off with a wave of her hand, “I should be fine. I think there should still be some under the sink from when Vivien painted Miles’ nails while he was sleeping.”

Hayley let out a snort of laughter, “He sure has his work cut out for him with that kid around.”

Mick nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips as she rose from her chair. Handing the towel back to Hayley, she sighed, “I’d better go before everyone crowds the place. I’ll see you guys later.”

Though Hayley looked ready to argue for the girl to stay until the rain lightened, Mick made her exit quick, clicking the door shut behind herself before running down the path toward the beach. Making her way toward the front of the building, Hayley watched Mick run toward where the sand and grass met, keeping an eye on her until she disappeared from sight. “Hm,” she hummed to herself as she slowly turned toward Bentley, “did she seem alright to you?”

Bentley shrugged as he folded the chair Mick had sat on and set it aside. “She was probably just upset about her shorts.”

Hayley nodded thoughtfully; it was plausible. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

When Butchy arrived back at the lodge Monday night, his wife was nowhere to be found. Despite reassurances from both Bentley and Hayley that Mick had returned safely to the wooden cabin, he didn’t allow himself to relax until he saw her silently leave her room. He had followed her to the kitchen area, hoping to figure out why he hadn’t seen her, but she simply explained that she’d had a rough day and wanted time alone to breathe. After spending three years with his now-wife, Butchy understood the silent signal he had been given and allowed her to return to her room with the Hot Pockets she had heated in the microwave. The last time he had seen her that night was when he hesitantly knocked on her door to wish her a good night.

The fog that flooded the area on Tuesday morning brought with it the first sign of sunshine. The distant rays that glowed through the dense fog cast hazy shadows over most of the campground. Although the glowing ball of fire in the sky tried its hardest, it wasn’t quite strong enough to break through the thick clouds and the lingering fog. With more rain forecasted to come in the next few days, it was no surprise that the sky remained gray despite the rising sun pushing its way over the horizon.

Butchy sat on the edge of his bed as he took in the ominous fog that covered the lake like a thick blanket on a cold winter morning. Rainwater from the roof sloshed through the clunky white gutter pipe that rattled against the outer wall of his bedroom, but Butchy paid it little mind. He had listened to it every day it rained and the sound felt more like background noise than an annoyance. As he rose from his bed, Butchy smiled to himself. He was sure that, if Vivien’s grandfather chose the right song, it would feel like they had stepped onto the set of some sort of summer camp, slasher movie from the eighties. Then, just as quickly as the thought had come into his mind, it left as he heard the faintest click from outside his bedroom.

Inching his way to the door, Butchy slowly turned the handle and pulled the door of his room open just enough to see a head of wavy, caramel hair go through the archway into the living room. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and sighed softly; he didn’t want her to feel ambushed first thing in the morning. Hoping to give Mick some time for herself, Butchy wasted a few minutes tidying his already fairly neat room and putting a few clothes in the hamper he would be bringing to the laundry all too soon. After checking his clock once more, Butchy tucked his cell phone into his pocket and grabbed a book from the dresser he had left by the door before heading into the hallway and making his way toward the living room. 

Sure enough, Mick had tucked herself into the corner of the couch as she seemed to do almost every day, her nose buried in a book as she curled herself as close as she could to the back of the couch. The only light she had came from a small, clip-on lamp that Mick had bought ages ago at the dollar store - a cheap, plastic little light that just barely held its angled shape and flickered like a strobe light at a rave if she dared to shift her hands anywhere near the clasp - but after using it for so long, she had grown accustomed to the cheap light and its idiosyncrasies. Butchy had tried to replace the little lamp for her so she wouldn’t have to fight with it so much, but she had stated more than once that she was fine with it and would continue to use it until the light gave out on her. As Mick flipped a page and the light objected to the movement, Butchy heard her muttering a plea for the lamp to continue doing its job as he leaned against the archway.

“You know,” he began, a smile on his face as Mick lifted her gaze from the flickering light before her, “one of these days, that little thing just might electrocute you.”

Mick rolled her eyes, a small grin appearing on her face as she retorted, “If that were to happen, my gravestone would say I died doing what I loved.”

As he approached his wife, Butchy let out a breath of a laugh, “Ah, so you love books more than me?”

“No,” Mick replied with ease as she sat up, allowing Butchy to fill the space between her back and the arm of the couch if he desired, “but if my headstone said that and I died while I was ‘doing you’, that might change the meaning a little bit.”

“Maybe a little,” Butchy agreed as he slid into the space his wife offered him. Once they had relaxed into a comfortable position once more and Butchy felt Mick let out a slow, deep breath as she reclined against him, he asked, “How are you feeling this morning?”

Tucking her makeshift bookmark into the novel in her hands, Mick sighed and set the book aside, “Tired.”

“Did you not sleep well?” Butchy asked. Before Mick could answer, he added, “You could have come to my room for the night; you know that, right?”

“I know,” Mick reassured as she shifted, peering up at her husband, “I think it’s just the weather dragging me down. The heat and humidity were bad enough, but the rain the past few days has just added to it. Now, I feel so drained and I don’t know how to push past it.”

As Butchy threaded his fingers into Mick’s hair, a familiar tingle of electricity coursing up his arm at the contact, he took in a deep breath. He never liked to see Mick upset, especially when he had no idea how to help her. He couldn’t change the weather for her, he couldn’t alter her emotions, and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t read her mind to figure out what was truly bothering her. Although he could feel the slightest hint of uselessness seeping into his skin at the idea of being unable to help his wife, Butchy swallowed thickly and pushed his thoughts aside, pushing a smile onto his face as he wondered, “Why do you have to push past it?”

“What do you mean?” Mick questioned, her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly.

“The last few weeks have been nothing short of overwhelming for you,” Butchy stated. “You’ve been an archery instructor, a lifeguard, and an accomplice to a made-up murder while also dealing with an absurd amount of children and heat. Why not just take the week to relax and let yourself recover?”

With a sigh, Mick shook her head, “I have to get the pool ready; I can’t take time off like that when they need me.”

“You and I both know that the other lifeguards are more than capable of getting everything there ready.” 

“I also have to help with setting up everything in the playhouse this week and making sure everything moves the way it’s supposed to on stage.”

“And I’m sure that the kids would be willing to help if we asked them to,” Butchy tried.

“I can’t ask that of them,” Mick said. “Besides, I promised I would help - I can’t just not show up.”

Butchy tried not to sigh. It was times like these he wished he could make Mick see things through his eyes. Her determination to help people was something he adored about her, but it was also one of her greatest faults. She tended to spread herself paper-thin and would refuse to back down from any commitments she had made despite the overbearing stress that would mount on her shoulders. It was something he was trying to work with her on as she realized just how much of a toll it was putting on herself. However, Butchy knew that now was not the time to try to work things out as she seemed adamant and unwavering.

Instead of arguing his point with Mick, Butchy allowed a small grin to tug at his lips as he pulled her head down, resting her ear over his chest. “Alright,” he relented, “but we’re still going to get some extra help.”

“Why?”

“Because you and I are taking the day off on Saturday,” Butchy said. “We’ll hop in the truck and get away from everything for a day. How does that sound?”

“Heavenly,” Mick breathed.

“Good,” Butchy sighed. “It’ll give us both something to work toward through the week.”

Mick let out a long breath, shifting to lie on her stomach as she brought her arms around her husband’s middle, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Butchy muttered as he pressed a kiss to Mick’s hair. “You know I would do anything for you.”

“Mhm,” Mick hummed, nodding against Butchy’s shirt as she squeezed him. “And I would for you.”

With their books seemingly forgotten in favor of the comfort they absorbed from the other person’s presence, Mick and Butchy relaxed on the couch, curled up in the corner as they waited for the sun to rise. After an hour or two, the announcement system would crackle to life with some song off of the hastily thrown-together playlist Vivien had sent her grandparents after the first staff meeting seven, almost eight weeks prior. For the time being, they had each other and that was all that mattered. There was no need to rush the morning along. Besides, by the time everyone else chose to pry themselves from their blankets and join them in the living area, they would most likely be invested in their novels; still curled close to each other, but far more relaxed as they squeezed each other's hands before turning a page and celebrated the end of a chapter with a kiss.

Despite Mick trying to convince Butchy to leave well enough alone, he had still asked the kids to help out with the duties Mick had signed herself up for. With Bentley and Royce helping in the playhouse and Vivien dragging Noah and his girlfriend into helping her at the pool, things seemed to finish a lot faster than they normally would have. By noon on Wednesday, everything in the playhouse was set for the upcoming performance, and the pool had been drained, cleaned, re-filled, shocked, and prepped for the upcoming weeks. With nothing else to do for the rest of the day, Mick was stationed with Vivien and Riven in the main office, the three of them trying to figure out what the next week would bring.

It wasn’t odd for the three to be pulled aside and asked to help in the office as they were three staff members who had grown up in the camp and knew what most kids wanted. However, as the mid-week rush of phone calls from eager parents practically glued Riven to the chair by the phone as he reassured everyone that their payments had gone through and that their children were on the roster for the upcoming weeks, the task of figuring out something to do for the next week or so was left solely on the shoulders of two brunettes.

“We can’t just do water balloon fights every day of the week, Viv,” Mick argued with a roll of her eyes. “Not only would it get boring after a few days, but it would also be a pain in the ass to clean up.”

“Not if we got those reusable ones off of TikTok!” Vivien tried. When she took in the unwavering look in Mick’s eyes, she sighed and scratched the idea off of her list, “Fine. How about doing a gold rush?”

“We did that last year,” Mick sighed, tapping her pencil on the table. “Five teenagers got into a fight in the makeshift saloon and we had to bring two of them to the emergency room with broken body parts.”

“Okay,” Vivien breathed, crossing out yet another of her ideas.

“How about we do a monster mash?” Mick suggested, resting the eraser of her pencil next to the idea. “We haven’t done that in a few years.”

“And with good reason,” Vivien snickered. “Remember that kid who dressed up like a Demogorgon and snuck into Kittery Cabin in the middle of the night? Grandpa and Nonna had to deal with calls from angry parents for weeks afterward because of all the nightmares the kids were having.”

“Guess we can cross that off too,” Mick muttered as she blocked off another idea. After scanning her list again, Mick crossed off a few more ideas and sighed, “I think that’s all of my ideas. Please tell me you have something good on yours.”

Vivien hummed thoughtfully, looking over her list and sighing as she crossed a few off the list. Bringing everyone figure skating or horseback riding wasn’t the greatest of ideas, water balloon dodgeball was off the table, they didn’t have enough time to put together a Ninja Warrior course, game show weeks never went well, and junkyard wars always ended up with broken friendships as everyone fought to have their machine made a certain way. With everything else crossed off, Vivien was left with a total of three ideas on her extensive paper, and, to her dismay, only one of them seemed good enough to be used.

“Well,” Vivien drawled hesitantly, “the carnival is coming to Laconia next week.”

“The carnival?”

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded, “you know, like with the Ferris wheel, the Round-Up, and the Yo-Yo? Someone always gets sick after one of the Pharoh rides and the whole place has this overwhelming smell of fried dough, snow cones, and popcorn?”

Of course, Mick knew what she meant. She had been to the carnival every year for as long as she could remember. Whether it was riding in the spinning pumpkins or zipping along on Rockstar Racers, Mick had always enjoyed the local carnival. Taking everyone to the carnival for the week would be a fun break from the norm and, in theory, it could work. Every camper was supposed to have money on them for excursions and, even if the camp needed to pitch in to get some kids into the fairgrounds, it wouldn’t be an outlandish amount of money. 

Slowly, Mick nodded. “We’ll have to run it by Chief and Nonna first to see if they’d be up to it, but I think that just might be our best shot at having a plan for the week.”

Holding her hand out palm-up, Vivien beamed as Mick high-fived her. “A week full of rides, fried food, and children screaming at the tops of their lungs.”

With a soft chuckle, Mick nudged the girl as she asked, “You plan on being one of those screaming children?”

Vivien shrugged as she tugged her elastic from her hair, “For one reason or another, yeah.”

“What do you mean?” Mick wondered as she picked up her pencil and wrote Vivien’s idea on her notepad.

Vivien sighed as she pulled her hair into a ponytail, “Well, I’ll either be screaming because of the rides or because of the insane cramps I’ve been getting. Either way, there will be screaming.”

“Did you take anything for them?”

“Tylenol,” Vivien confirmed.

“But it isn’t touching it?”

“Nope.”

“You could have asked me for some,” Mick sighed. “Me or Carrie. We would have given you something.”

Once again, Vivien shrugged, “It doesn’t really matter. I’ll work out some and drink extra water and I’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll be over in three days anyway.”

“That’s it?” Mick asked as she rose from her seat. When Vivien nodded, Mick scoffed, “You lucky little shit. My period lasts at least a week.”

Vivien smiled, chuckling as she stood and followed Mick to the door, “Yeah, well, I don’t get my period often at all, so it usually hits hard and then goes away after maybe two or three days.”

“Oh,” Mick breathed. “Do you have an IUD? I heard that those stop your period.”

“No, I just don’t get them a lot,” Vivien admitted. “I don’t need birth control anyway.”

“Be grateful you don’t yet,” Mick sighed. “When I was testing the waters, I tried one that basically destroyed me. When you start looking around, make sure to check the side effects before you jump in.”

Although Vivien nodded, she let out a breath before swallowing and admitting, “You know, I don’t think that will be a problem for me.”

“Maybe not,” Mick shrugged, “but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

“I know, it’s just…” Vivien stalled as her voice drifted off, her fingers twisting nervously in the strings of her hoodie. “I won’t need birth control.”

Mick stopped, turning to the younger girl with a smile that looked as though she knew everything going through the young brunette’s mind. “Vivi, I know you and Royce aren’t there quite yet - and to that, I applaud you both - but there may come a time where that could change. If it does, you’ll need to be looking into those things.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Vivien said with a shake of her head. Stepping close to the older girl, Vivien reached out a hesitant hand, slipping her fingers into Mick’s hand as she lowered her voice and admitted, “Mickie, I won’t need it because I can’t get pregnant.”

As though she had been caught in a game of freeze tag, Mick stood still, looking over the girl before her with wide eyes. “What?”

“My mom took me to the doctors before summer started to see about birth control because Royce and I were spending the summer here,” Vivien stated. “Something about her knowing what the staff members get up to when the adults aren’t looking.”

“Understandable,” Mick breathed. After all, she knew all too well just how easy it was for counselors to sneak off when they had nothing better to do.

Vivien shrugged, “Yeah, well, when I brought up to my doctor how irregular my periods are, she decided to run a few tests to see if there were any underlying things going on. They tested me for endometriosis, a few autoimmune disorders, and a bunch of other stuff while they were at it.”

“And?”

“And they found I have PCOS,” Vivien admitted. “It won’t kill me or anything, but it causes infertility. They put me on a medication to test how it works on me and, while I still won’t get pregnant if it helps, it should make things a bit easier as time goes on.”

Mick nodded as she took in the information. Then, with a tentative look in her eyes, she asked, “You’re okay with not having kids?”

“They’re cute and all, but to be honest, I never wanted them,” Vivien chuckled. “I’d rather be the cool aunt who babysits, spoils them silly, and sends them back to their parents. Besides, I only recently started getting more confident in how I look, and the idea of my stomach expanding and having to push something the size of a bowling ball out of my vagina sounds horrifying to me.”

With a chuckle, Mick shook her head before sending a smile Vivien’s way and wrapping an arm around the teen’s shoulders, pulling her close as she began walking toward the office door. “You’d rather be the auntie, huh?”

“Only the coolest auntie to ever walk the face of the earth,” Vivien agreed. “I’d take them to the mall and to the movies, teach them to skate, and do all the fun stuff with them that their parents don’t wanna do.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Absolutely.”

Mick snickered, squeezing Vivien to her side as she opened the door to the front desk, “Well, then you’ll have your work cut out for you once the rest of us start popping out kids left, right, and center.”

Vivien let out a snort, “Did they not make you watch that nightmare-fuel movie in school because, believe me, you won’t be popping anything out of anywhere.”

Rolling her eyes, Mick nudged Vivien into the office and allowed the conversation to drop as the younger brunette made her way to where Riven was sitting, talking on the phone with someone neither of them could make out. From the look of it, however, Mick had gotten the better end of the deal as Riven ran a frustrated hand through his hair. As Vivien perched herself on the desk and began taunting Riven by mimicking whoever was on the phone, Mick smiled, shaking her head at the girl’s antics as she pulled out her phone. Unlocking the device, she sent a quick message to Vivien's grandmother about the idea the girl had proposed before switching to the conversation she had been having with her husband.

After rereading the last messages they had sent each other, Mick smiled to herself and brought up her keyboard before typing, ‘How do you feel about having a movie night with everyone? We can get some popcorn, string up a sheet in the living room, and just spend time together.’

The response came quicker than she had anticipated as her phone pinged. ‘Sounds good to me,’ Butchy had typed. ‘Might have to wait until tomorrow, though. Someone fell from the rock wall and we’re waiting on an ambulance.’

‘Does it look that bad?’ she tapped quickly.

‘Worse,’ was Butchy’s first response. ‘We’ll probably have a staff meeting on safety once they get back from the hospital.’

‘Oh yay,’ Mick typed, hoping her sarcasm came through loud and clear. By Butchy’s quickly sent laughing emoji, she guessed it had. ‘Guess we’ll pick out a movie tomorrow then.’

‘Guess so,’ Butchy replied. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Mick quickly sent. ‘It happens. I’ll see you after.’

‘Ok, love you.’

‘Love you too.’

The overpowering stench of charred popcorn filled the air as the window above the kitchen sink was pushed open. Most of the cabin would smell the blackened remnants of the buttery snack within a few minutes if they couldn’t already and, although the window was open, it wouldn’t do much to rid the log cabin of the overwhelming smell. While Royce was immensely glad he was the only one close enough to have to face the full force of the stench, he still felt as though it choked him, resulting in him taking a quick gulp of air before making his way to the microwave. 

Quickly opening the silver and black box, Royce grabbed the bag by the corner and hastily closed the microwave before making his way to the window where he held the bag of decently scorched popcorn outside to air out. He could have easily taken it out the back door, opened the bag, and thrown the inedible food out on the grass for the birds and squirrels, but he wasn’t sure they would take it either. The only thing he was sure about was that he was going to have to avoid the kitchen for a few days until the smell no longer permeated every inch of the space.

For once, the horrendously burned food wasn’t due to Mick’s dad attempting to cook and he was almost positive that he was going to end up being the focus of his friends’ teasing for a while as a result. One thing Royce could never manage to properly make in the modern world was popcorn and, despite Vivien’s many efforts to teach him not to trust the instructions on the backs of the bags, he simply couldn’t manage to make a bag without burning some. If it had been something like Jiffy Pop where he could make the popcorn on the stove like they did back home, he would have been fine. However, the modern world had changed and, although the stovetop popcorn was still available in stores, not a single shop in Sanbornton kept them in stock and he wasn’t about to make anyone take the trip out to a bigger store just so that he could make popcorn. After all, he wasn’t even supposed to be in charge of the popcorn.

Miles had originally been tasked to make the snack as he had some magical knowledge as to how to add butter throughout the bowl without it all getting soggy and gross. However, as he was pulled away to help Butchy and Vivien hang up the sheet in the living room, Royce was left monitoring the bag of now-burnt popcorn. Thankfully, two other bags had already been made up, but Royce wasn’t sure anyone would want him searching through the cupboards for another packet that would just end up charred. 

Before he could attempt to bring the bag back inside and dispose of it, a voice from the hallway got his attention. “Royce?” a voice he knew all too well asked. Rolling his eyes, Royce turned to see Carrie entering the kitchen with her nose crinkled in disgust. “Is everything okay in here?”

Royce took in a deep breath and sighed before pulling the burnt popcorn inside and tossing it in the trash, “Peachy-fucking-keen.”

“What happened?” Carrie asked as she reached for the refrigerator door.

“Have you lost all sense of smell or something?” Royce questioned, sarcasm filling his tone. 

Grabbing the tray of jiggling Jello cups from the shelf in the fridge, Carrie tried not to sound snippy as she replied, “I can smell the burnt popcorn, but I wanted to know if everything was alright.”

“It’s fine,” Royce sighed. “I’ll just have Miles make a new one when he’s done with whatever he’s doing.”

“They’re trying to figure out how to hang up the sheet without it falling down again,” Carrie chuckled as she set the tray of Jello cups on the counter. “If you want, I can make up the next bag if you want to take this out there and try helping them.”

Although Royce could have easily said no and pushed off the blonde’s offer with a snarky response, he didn’t particularly feel like starting a fight, especially not when Miles had recently praised him for working so well with Carrie in the playhouse. In all honesty, the pair had spent little time together as Riven kept him distracted, but the way Miles had smiled when he sang Royce’s praises that night made him feel as though he was doing something helpful. If sucking it up and dealing with Carrie’s, well, everything would make Miles happier with him, he could manage. Stepping up to the counter, Royce eyed the jiggling snack with a raised eyebrow as he asked, “What even is that?”

Carrie smiled as Royce glanced her way, prepared to explain, however, her words remained in her throat as an excited squeal brought their attention to the doorway of the kitchen. “Jello shots!” Mick sang.

Royce glanced down at the cups before asking, “Like, alcohol shots?”

“Not all of them,” Carrie commented as Mick grabbed a handful of spoons from the drawer. “Most of them are just Jello and juice.”

“These ones, however,” Mick began as she grabbed a cup with a tiny, toothpick flag sticking out of it, “have vodka.”

“And you guys can’t have them,” Carrie added.

Mick shrugged, “Technically, they can if they get permission and don’t plan on leaving camp, but I doubt Miles would want them getting drunk.”

“Not like we’d want to anyway,” Royce said with a small smirk.

“Good,” Mick commented, placing her handful of spoons on the tray. “Were you taking these to the living room?”

Before Carrie could say that she was planning on doing just that, Royce said, “I can. Do you want me to?”

“I need to grab the sherbet and a big bowl for Charlie’s infamous punch, so yeah, that would be great,” Mick said with a brilliant smile. 

The girls watched as Royce took the tray from the counter and headed out of the room with a small smile tugging at his lips. Once he was gone, Mick turned to grab the sherbet from the freezer and Carrie reached into a nearby cupboard for a bowl. Glancing over her shoulder at the brunette who was elbow-deep in the freezer, Carrie asked, “How do you do it?”

Pulling herself and a plastic tub of orange sherbet from the freezer, Mick’s head lilted to the side as she asked in return, “Do what?”

Gesturing toward the doorway, Carrie clarified, “Get Royce so at ease around you. I swear, he must think I’m some cartoon villain or something.”

Mick let out a soft chuckle as she hefted the tub onto the counter, “You’re probably not far off.”

Carrie sighed as she placed a large bowl on the counter, “I mean, Bentley is finally starting to warm up to me, but Royce still can’t stand me unless someone’s there to break things up.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mick grinned as she admitted, “Well, if it gives you any comfort, I know the feeling.”

“You do?” Carrie questioned. When Mick nodded, she asked, “How? They both adore you.”

“They do, yeah,” Mick nodded. “But I’m not talking about them.”

If Mick’s previous confession hadn’t confused Carrie already, her new statement certainly did. “If not them, then who?”

Mick chuckled, “Normally, I’d say ‘like father, like son’, but since they’re brothers…”

“Miles?” Carrie asked incredulously. It was hard to imagine Miles being anything but the brotherly figure in Mick’s life. The two got along so well that, if Carrie hadn’t known the relationship between them prior to meeting Mick, she would have guessed they were related by some extension. She couldn’t picture the oldest of the Murphy brothers being anything but protective and loving toward the brunette before her.

With a nod, Mick smiled, “Bingo.”

“But you two are like siblings.”

“We are.”

“What happened?”

Mick chuckled as she pushed herself to sit on the countertop, “Well, as I said, it was a lot like what’s happening with you and the boys. I started dating Butchy when I was almost eighteen and, by that time, Miles had been living with Butchy and Lela for almost a year. They were as close as close could be, but then I came along.”

Leaning on the counter and looking up at the brunette who was normally right around her height, Carrie asked, “Did he not like you?”

“At first, we were fine,” Mick admitted. “We were friends - the four of us. Then, when things between me and Butchy started to change, Miles grew overprotective of him and Lela and began pushing me aside.”

“I can’t imagine that lasted long,” Carrie chuckled.

“Longer than I would have liked,” Mick mused. “Maybe half a year at most.”

Carrie nodded slowly; it seemed as though Miles was the easiest of the brothers to rope in. “How did you manage to make it to where you are now?”

“Not easily,” Mick snorted. “He fought me tooth and nail while all I wanted was for us to go back to the way things were. It wasn’t until I showed up at their door, bloody and bruised, that he finally stopped.”

“What happened to you?” Carrie pressed. “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but-”

Mick’s laugh cut the blonde off, “I don’t mind. It was actually kind of dumb. I was playing volleyball with some of the surfers and, when I dove for the ball, it bounced off of my arms and slammed into my face. It looked a lot worse than it was, but I insisted I would be fine after cleaning myself up, so I went to Butchy’s house to see if I could clean up and use their first aid kit.”

“That must not have gone over too well,” Carrie mused. Lela on her own probably wasn’t bad - she would have probably allowed logic to drive her into helping her friend once the panic wore off - but Carrie could only imagine the chaos that came from having both Butchy and Miles fussing over Mick’s bloodied face.

“About as well as you’d expect,” Mick shrugged. “Miles opened he door, took one look at me, and all of a sudden, it was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled me inside, led me to the couch, called for Butchy and Lela, and started trying to stop the bleeding while he questioned me as to what had happened. After that, things calmed down considerably and now we’re practically family.”

“I can’t imagine Royce and I getting to that point,” Carrie breathed. “I think he’d probably enjoy seeing me all broken and bloody.”

“Yeah, no,” Mick snorted with a shake of her head. “Royce may not like you yet, but he certainly wouldn’t want you to get hurt. He might not react quite the same as Miles would, but he would still try to help. He knows how much you mean to Miles.”

Though Carrie wasn’t entirely sure she believed Mick’s hopeful words, the thought was nice. If the situation was reversed and Royce had been injured, she would try to help him despite how strained their relationship was; she could only hope he would do the same for her if she needed him to. “Maybe you’re right.”

Mick hummed as she pushed herself off of the countertop and grabbed the tub of sherbet, “Well, let’s hope we don’t have to find out anytime soon.”

Carrie chuckled, nodding as she grabbed the large bowl she had taken from the cupboard, “No injuries for me, please.”

“Yeah,” Mick nodded as she led the way out of the kitchen, ready to finally sit down and watch a movie with the group that had gathered in the living room.

Despite the light rain showers that came in short bursts throughout Friday morning, the sky began to clear after lunch, bringing brilliant hues of blue through the breaking clouds. Warm breezes brushed through the camp as many staff members donned their swimsuits and spent the afternoon on the beach or in the lake. A select few had taken to dragging some of the canoes and kayaks from the boathouse to cruise around the lake while the majority either tanned or swam through the cool lake water.

The sunshine didn’t last long, however, as gray clouds decorated the horizon by the time everyone was preparing to head to dinner. While most chose to wrap towels around their already drenched swimsuits so they didn’t have to worry about getting any more wet on the way back to their cabins from the mess hall, others chose to change into dry clothes and keep an umbrella or rain poncho with them on their walk to the mess hall.

As groups formed and friends began talking about everything and nothing all at once, Riven made his way to the end of the line and grabbed a tray for his food. Although Erica and Jade were with him, spouting off about midnight swimming and a game they wanted to play soon, Riven’s mind had wandered. Once the summer was over, he officially had nothing to do. He had done an eight-week college course and gotten his photography degree online before the summer started, and his job at the tattoo shop in Laconia was infrequent as he was still in training. Once the summer was over, the only thing he had to do was train on the ice. 

Sure, he could have taken a summer job at the police station where his dad worked, but he didn’t exactly like being there every day. It was insanely boring sitting at a desk, helping answer phones, and cleaning up after the small group of K-9 dog officers was no fun. How his dad managed to do it almost every day, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like their town was riddled with crime to keep him occupied all day. Riven’s dad was adamant that he didn’t need help paying the bills, but his weekly photography job for the local paper was more than enough to cover the cable and electric bills he had swapped into his name without his dad’s knowledge. It was the least he could do. However, with not having to do much work to get paid and practically nothing else to do, Riven wondered just how boring the rest of the year would be.

Riven sighed as he took another step forward; at least he had the band and their little Dungeons and Dragons party to keep him busy. Without them, he would be bored out of his mind all the time. With Jade and Erica working at the mall, it was easy for Riven to snatch Vivien and drive her to the mall for a quick session while the others were on their lunch breaks, but with the school year starting and Vivien taking on a joint year to graduate early, those days of fighting magical beings while sitting around a sticky booth in the food court would be coming to an end. 

Sure, they still had their weekends where they could sit in Erica’s apartment and play a bit of their campaign or settle down in Riven’s basement to practice their music for the concerts they had yet to play, but it just wasn’t the same as the summertime hangouts they used to have.

Maybe he would ask the girls to meet him in the music hall to go through some of the songs he had been working on. Normally, he left the songwriting to Erica as that was her specialty, but he had written a few songs himself here and there. Maybe they would feel up to spending some time playing music like they used to. Hell, everyone could be there for all he cared. He just wanted to do something before the summer ended and everyone went back to business as usual.

As Riven stepped up to the first section of the buffet displays, a hand waved in front of his face, jolting him from his thoughts. “Yo, dipshit, are you in there?”

Turning toward Erica with a raised brow, Riven asked, “What?”

"You were spacing out there for a while," Mick mused as she rounded Riven in search of some waffle fries.

"Yeah," Erica confirmed.

“Mick and Bentley said you guys are having a game night tonight,” Jade spoke. “We were wondering if we could come.”

“Yeah,” Riven nodded automatically despite not having known about the game night. “Of course you can.”

"Told you so," Bentley said with a smile.

“Cool,” Erica mused. “You guys planning on breaking out Cards Against Humanity again?”

"We might," Mick said with a shrug.

“Please do,” Jade begged with a cackle. “I would kill to see Butchy’s face!”

Erica choked on a laugh as she grabbed some cutlery, “I know, right! He acts like some forty-year-old virgin with some of those cards.”

“Says the one who gave him half of the dirty cards in the deck,” Riven chuckled.

“It was so worth it,” Erica claimed with a contented sigh.

Mick shook her head with a fond smile, “I wasn’t sure he was going to make it through the night without bursting a blood vessel or something.”

Riven smirked, “I thought he was going to when he found out Bentley was the one that had given him that card about having a threesome with Shaquille O’Neal.”

“And I’d do it again,” Bentley remarked as he walked behind Riven to grab some french fries.

“Do you even know what that card means?” Erica questioned the boy, leaning forward slightly to see him.

Bentley slowly nodded, “I made the mistake of googling it after I handed it over.”

Jade let out a bark of a laugh before slapping a hand over her mouth as Riven snickered, “Big mistake, kid.”

“You’re telling me,” Bentley sighed. “I wanted nothing more than to bleach my eyes after that.”

Mick snickered, “Next time we play, I can sit next to you and we can just swap cards if you want.”

“Maybe,” the fifteen-year-old shrugged, a smirk growing on his face, “but I kind of liked watching Butchy freak out like that.”

“Welcome to the dark side,” Erica smiled, nudging the blond boy with her elbow as she reached between him and Mick to grab some waffle fries. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Bentley smiled and began making himself a burger as Mick maneuvered around him to pour herself some ketchup and Riven stepped up beside him, taking some potato wedges from the metal dish they sat in. Glancing at his bandmates, the older boy cleared his throat and said, “You know, I was thinking we could go up to the music hall tomorrow and work on some new songs. You guys feel up to it?”

Jade readily agreed as Erica sighed, “I haven’t been writing much at all this summer.”

“That’s alright,” Riven reassured. “I know it’s been a bit hectic for you guys at the pool. Besides, I’ve got a few that I’ve been working on in my free time; maybe we can work on those.”

“Sure,” Jade nodded.

“That works,” Erica decided.

“Can I listen to the new songs?” Bentley piped up, placing the top of his burger bun on his carefully constructed sandwich. “I always love your music.”

"Me too," Mick agreed as she set the ketchup bottle down.

“You guys have heard our music?” Jade asked.

"Most of our cabin has at this point," Mick said as she left to find a seat at their table.

Bentley nodded, moving aside so the others had access to the rest of the buffet as he said, “Viv plays recordings for us on the TV now and then. It’s kinda like watching a concert.”

“Someday, we’ll play an actual concert,” Erica stated as she piled a handful of chips onto her plate. “We’ll perform a setlist we’ve created on a huge stage with bright lights, brand-new instruments, and rows and rows of screaming fans.”

“I hope I’ll be there when it happens,” Bentley said with a smile. “It sounds incredible."

“Are you kidding, half-pint?” Riven asked rhetorically, ruffling Bentley’s hair before wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulders and guiding him toward the table they always sat at. “You’ll have a backstage pass.”

There were some days that Mick felt as though she had lived through many lives as a parent. Not only had she worked as a babysitter in her preteen years, but she had also been somewhat of an older sister figure to Vivien, her siblings, and their respective gaggles of friends. Once she was old enough to be left home alone, she was tasked with going down the street to the O’Brian household to babysit their kids while the parents worked in the winery. As they grew older and gained friends, Mick grew accustomed to seeing random kids show up at the house, asking for one kid or another to come out and play. She also grew used to the ups and downs of living like a parent.

More than once, she had woken up to a sick child asking to cuddle up to her or had to drag an exhausted teenager from the comfort of their bed. Despite no longer needing to babysit for cash to blow on the weekends, Mick was still living like a child-wrangler and, although they were old enough to handle themselves, she still treated every child she came into contact with as though they were her own. Vivien, Royce, and Bentley were no exception. 

Mick adored the young trio. Of course, she had grown up knowing Vivien as her next-door neighbor’s kid and the little sister her parents never gave her. Royce and Bentley, on the other hand, were brought into her life far more recently than Vivien had been. Despite only having known them for the better part of a year, she had grown to adore them just as deeply as she knew Miles did. That was why, when she woke up to the three of them quietly carrying a tray of food and some assorted items into her room, her suspicions were high.

“What is all of this?” she asked as she sat up, allowing Royce to place the tray over her legs. 

“We’re not supposed to say,” Bentley claimed, earning a nudge from Royce, who quickly smiled back at Mick.

“We were told to give you the stuff, tell you ‘good morning’, and leave,” the brunet stated.

Understandably concerned, Mick closed her eyes and sighed, “Who did something and - follow-up question - what did they do this time?”

“Nobody did anything,” Vivien snickered. “Well, not yet at least.”

Slowly peeling her eyes open, Mick glanced at the trio before asking, “Do I wanna know?” Instead of getting a direct answer, Mick earned a shrug from Vivien, a knowing smirk from Royce, and a snorted laugh from Bentley. Sighing once again, Mick shook her head, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Bentley reassured.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. “You’ll see.”

Mick glanced at the teenagers and gave them a small smile. “Alright, but if anyone miraculously gets magical powers and ends up lighting something on fire, you three are my scapegoats.”

“How would someone get magical powers?” Royce wondered as Mick picked up her fork and took in a piece of a syrup-coated pancake.

Pointing her fork between Royce and Bentley, Mick lowered her voice and said, “You two are from a parallel universe where it’s nineteen-sixty-three - at this point, anything is possible.”

“Touche,” Royce relented.

Taking her friends by the wrists, Vivien tugged the boys away from Mick’s bed as she said, “Alright, alright, enough chit-chat. Let the girl eat so we can move on with our day.”

Despite her rising intrigue with the situation, Mick silently watched as the trio left her room, each of them wishing her a good morning before disappearing into the hallway and being separated by the door. Choosing to allow the day to continue as it should, Mick turned back to her food and took in some fruit before looking at the two wrapped gifts Vivien and Bentley had brought into the room. They hadn’t said anything about the gifts, but she wasn’t exactly going to tell them to collect them either.

One red and one blue, Mick vaguely wondered if the colors were intentional. If so, she knew they could have been from Butchy. Her favorite color and his - red and blue, respectively - were opposite to what most people assumed and had become something of a running joke between them. Tugging the red-wrapped box toward her, Mick picked it up and examined it, lightly shaking it like one would a Christmas present before setting it beside her on the bed without a clue as to what was inside. The other gift was larger than the first, rectangular, and, although she had copied her previous attempt, she had no notion as to what was inside.

Despite her rising curiosity, Mick set the presents aside and returned to her food, determined to eat it before it got any colder than it was already starting to be. After taking the chance to eat, Mick pushed the tray to the end of her bed and shifted to sit cross-legged before reaching for the two presents she had been given. Although she debated for a moment as to which she could open first, the red one was quick to be unwrapped, revealing a small box with a necklace inside, her first initial and Butchy’s delicately engraved into the face of a heart-shaped locket.

The golden heart was no bigger than the pad of Mick’s thumb and swung from a dainty chain that she feared would break far too easily. All the same, Mick stood from her bed and made her way to the mirror she had hung on the back of her bedroom door, taking a minute to secure the chain at the nape of her neck and examine the delicate new accessory. Smiling at her reflection, Mick ran a hand through her hair to somewhat fix it before making her way back to her bed and perching herself on the edge of her mattress before grabbing the blue gift.

Peeling away at the tape, Mick pulled back the wrapping paper. However, after the final piece of tape was torn away and the blue paper fell away, Mick found herself staring at a newspaper-wrapped object with a folded paper taped to the top of it. Tugging the folded page away from the newspaper, Mick opened it and began reading the cleanly-written note inside.

“‘If I know you the way I think I do, you’ll have opened this second.’” Mick let out a breath of a laugh; her predictability was unwavering and Butchy could read her like a book, so it was no surprise that he had gotten that right as well. “‘Another thing I know is that you’ve probably forgotten our date today since you never asked me about it the last couple of days, but just know that I didn’t. I’ve got it all under control, so all you need to do is show up. Dress cool - it’s supposed to be hot today - but bring your cozy sweatpants since we’ll be out after dark. Meet me at the truck when you’re ready to go.’”

Tipping her phone up from its spot on the nightstand and checking the time on her lock screen, Mick ran a hand through her hair. Sooner or later, everyone would be heading to the mess hall for breakfast. Setting her phone down and placing the note in the drawer of her nightstand, Mick quickly unwrapped the newspaper from the gift and found a novel she had been looking forward to reading - How To Survive Your Murder. With a grin, Mick placed the book beside her phone and stood, making her way to her closet. Pulling out a loose shirt and a pair of simple shorts, she smiled and dragged her hair into a loose bun before getting dressed and taking the opportunity to braid her hair.

Tucking her phone into her pocket, slinging a pair of sweats over her arm, and grabbing her book from the stand by her bed, Mick beamed to herself as she left her room. Though it was no surprise that Butchy was nowhere to be seen in the cabin, she was very surprised to find nobody sitting in the living room, waiting for the breakfast alert to blare throughout the campground. Looking around curiously, she found Miles’ and Carrie’s rooms open as they typically were during the day, letting her know that they had left the cabin already. Making her way to the door, Mick stepped outside and quickly found that almost everyone had gathered on the beach, throwing water balloons at each other like an all-out war.

Chucking at the group that had suddenly turned their aggression on Miles who had chosen to lounge on the sand in the hopes of falling asleep despite the chaos around him, Mick made her way through the sand to the pathways that wound throughout the grounds. As she passed a few counselors who had taken to sitting outside and talking on the porches of their cabins, Mick waved, earning herself a myriad of hastily-given greetings as she continued walking toward the main office. Once the building was in her sight, Mick felt a smile tugging at her lips once more. 

Just beyond the office was the parking lot where a few of the local staff members had left their cars to accumulate pine needles in the shaded spots of unpaved ground. It was there that she spotted her husband’s familiar truck sitting with the hood up. Approaching the vehicle with a raised brow, Mick tentatively deposited her belongings on the passenger’s seat through the open window and stepped around the front of the truck to find her husband holding one of the dipsticks and a napkin they had gotten from a nearby fast food restaurant.

“Everything alright?” she asked, watching as Butchy slid the stick back into its rightful place.

Butchy turned to her with a lopsided smile and nodded as he wiped his hands on the napkin he held. “Just checking the fluids before we head out,” he claimed. “I had to add some transmission fluid when we went shopping the other day and I think there might be a leak in the line somewhere.”

“Not good,” Mick commented. While she was good with machines, cars were like the Italian language to Mick - she knew enough to get by, but nowhere near as much as Butchy did. Taking a step back as Butchy reached for the hood and lifted it off of the support beam to close it, she asked, “Are you sure you want to go today? We can wait and do it some other time if you want to fix the truck first.”

Shaking his head as he dropped the hood into place, Butchy sent a smile in Mick’s direction as he said, “It’s nothing serious. Miles and I can take a look at it some other time. Today is for the two of us.”

Despite the sincerity in Butchy’s eyes, Mick still found it necessary to ask, “Are you sure?”

Taking Mick’s hand in his, Butchy leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, muttering against her skin, “Positive.”

The warm summer air did nothing to stop the tingling shivers that raced through Mick’s shoulders as Butchy’s deep tone rumbled through her. Finding herself incapable of speaking her mind, she simply nodded and allowed him to guide her back to the truck, standing aside as Butchy opened her door for her and helped her climb in. After closing his wife’s door and rounding the truck, Butchy climbed in behind the wheel and buckled himself in, checking to make sure Mick had done the same before turning the vehicle on and backing out of his parking spot.

Once they had reached the end of the bumpy road, Butchy placed his hand palm up on the middle console out of habit, relishing in the gentle glide of Mick’s fingers as she slid her hand into his. Regardless of who was driving, the two almost always held hands while out and about. Whether it was Mick’s flower-power-themed, Volkswagen bus or Butchy’s cherry red, Ram pickup, they could be seen with their hands intertwined over the center console. It was just how they were. The only time they couldn’t hold hands properly was on Butchy’s motorcycle, which was fine as he still had her arms around him as he drove. At first, it was just for protection and a hint of a connection for the two of them as they went places together, but as they swapped cars on vacations, they found ways to keep themselves grounded in each other’s presence.

As Butchy drove, Mick watched out the window at the scenery that blew by. It was times like these they didn’t need words; they only needed each other. The radio, which had connected to Mick’s phone the moment the car turned on, softly played a song she had forgotten she added to her most recent playlist. As trees shifted to buildings and the main stretch of Sanbornton came into view, Mick turned her gaze to her husband, who had a hint of a smile on his face and seemed solely focused on the road before him despite his wife’s soft singing. Lifting their joined hands, Mick pressed a kiss to the back of Butchy’s hand before lowering them to their resting place.

“So, hotshot, where are you taking me?” she asked as the song ended.

Rolling to a stop at a red light, Butchy chuckled as he glanced her way, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would,” Mick remarked. “That would be why I asked.”

“Smartass.”

“Don’t let the kids hear you say that.”

“They aren’t here.”

“True,” Mick nodded. “So, are you going to tell me, or is this a surprise?”

“Surprise,” Butchy confirmed, “but I will tell you that you’ll have a good time.”

Mick hummed, leaning her head against the back of her seat as she mused, “I always have a good time with you.”

Butchy smiled as he squeezed Mick’s hand ever so slightly, “Good.”

The drive only stopped once as they pulled to a stop at a Dairy Queen to get some ice cream - Mick’s statement that ice cream was good any time of day ringing through Butchy’s head as they pulled up to the drive-thru order screen. Once they were back on the road with their ice creams nestled in the cup holders, Butchy continued driving north, bringing them away from the hustle and bustle of the city of Laconia and onto the back roads. Few houses lined the streets as they glided down the road, potholes being the only signs of life as they cruised along the empty streets. By the time their cups of ice cream were empty, they had passed rows of trees and bushes and come to a sparsely populated area. Eventually, Butchy slowed as the GPS warned him that he was approaching their destination and Mick found herself looking around in confusion. On their left was an RV park filled with rows of trailers and the only thing on their right was an empty, obviously unmaintained, parking lot with foliage filling the cracks and a metal gate blocking the entrance. 

However, as Butchy pulled a bit further down and flipped on his turn signal, Mick only found her confusion growing. Butchy pulled to a stop outside of a metal gate and told Mick to stay in the truck as he climbed out with a set of keys in hand. Rounding the truck, he slid one of the keys into the rusty lock and twisted it, dragging away the chain that held the gate in place before pushing it open and heading back to his truck. Once Butchy was back in the truck, Mick asked him what was going on, but he brushed off her concerns with ease as he pulled into the run-down parking lot and passed an old, red building with a moss-coated roof.

Stepping out of the truck once it was parked, Mick looked around, searching for any sign that she knew where they were. As Butchy led her toward the old red building, however, she spotted something that made the location click into her mind like a cassette in a Walkman. “White Oaks?” she breathed. “I thought this place closed down years ago.”

“It did,” Butchy confirmed. “I was talking with Vivien about things to do in the area and she brought up that you guys would come here a lot in the summers. I figured it would be nice to tour the place.”

With a laugh of disbelief, Mick stared at the building before her with wide eyes, “How did you even get a key?”

“I called the number on the for-sale sign by the road,” Butchy shrugged. “The guy was really nice and said we could look around as much as we want so long as we don’t go in the water. Something about it needing to be cleaned.”

“I’d say,” Mick scoffed as she took the lead, wandering into the building. “This place was closed seven years ago. Whatever’s in the water is probably sludgy and toxic by this point.”

Butchy followed his wife as she wandered into the old ticket center with practiced ease. As she looked around the crumbling remains of the building with a smile, Butchy felt the urge to whip out his phone and take a picture of her, but then again, he always felt like that. Before long, Mick got bored of the building and climbed over the ticket turnstiles, prompting Butchy to follow suit as she began making her way into the open air once more. The dilapidated remnants of a water slide loomed in the distance, its rusted metal creaking as the wind blew, rustling the leaves of the vines that crawled up the sides of the structure. Despite its rickety appearance, Mick smiled as though it was brand-new.

Further down the overgrown, concrete trails, they found an old pool with a decaying roof overhead - more than a few ceiling tiles having fallen into the murky abyss that was the lingering swamp of water in the pool. Half filled with rain water and a few chairs that had been unceremoniously dumped by trespassers, the pool had once stood proud and shimmering with glistening, crystalline water and welcomed people of all ages to take a refreshing dip. Now, all that remained were tadpoles and crumbling tiles. Mick had spent most of her childhood behind the pool’s waterfall, pretending to be a mermaid in a shimmering cave-like on one of her favorite shows. Now, however, she couldn’t imagine willingly swimming to the far side of the square pool and waiting for an arch of sludge to come over the embankment to seal her in.

Following the cement paths, they discovered what had once been a splash park and playground. A few of the play structures remained and, if Mick listened over the wind, she was sure she could hear the faintest screeches of laughter emanating from the large pirate ship that she and Vivien had spent hours playing on growing up. In the center of the play area was a pole with a circle at the top. Buckets used to hang from it, dumping water on unsuspecting children once they were filled. The soft ground under the splash park still had some semblance of color to it - its old, floral pattern was now nothing more than sunburnt shades of faded red and blue. Distantly, Mick wondered if the water spouts still worked, but she soon decided she wouldn’t want any of the remaining tank water to spray her down.

Down a set of stairs, Mick made her way to what was once the best wave pool in all of New Hampshire. Or, at least, the one she had deemed to be the best. The large mouth of the pool remained somewhat similar to how she remembered it - a dingy shade of gray with a rope across the front of it, blocking people from entering. Cartoonish signs still hung from the ropes, a little lavender bear wearing pool floaties pouting at the words “Closed for Cleaning and Maintenance.”

Chuckling, Mick held the corner of the sign and said, “It’s Helpy.”

“Helpy?” Butchy repeated.

“Mhm,” Mick hummed. “He was their maintenance mascot who would come out to let everyone know they needed to close something and fix it up. More often than not, it was the wave pool that needed fixing.”

Butchy chuckled as he sarcastically remarked, “Sounds like a great attraction.”

“It was,” Mick nodded, “it just broke down a lot.”

“So Helpy was their solution?”

“No,” Mick began with a shake of her head, “he was there long before they started having issues. You see, they used to have this party hall where you could have birthday parties and stuff. They had these animatronic animals that would sing and put on shows for everyone, but they broke down a lot, so Helpy would come out and try to guide everyone out back while they worked on the animatronics.”

Butchy nodded, “Sounds like that game you and Vivien were into.”

Mick snickered, “Five Nights at Freddy’s?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why do you think I liked the games so much?” Mick questioned rhetorically. “I loved going to parties here growing up and, when the games came out, I just fell in love. I may not be as much of a gamer as Vivien and the boys are, but I will forever be invested in Five Nights at Freddy’s.”

With a fond smile, Butchy allowed Mick to guide him throughout the rest of the water park, showing him all of her favorite locations and telling him all about the fond memories she had from over the years. After spending a few hours wandering the property, looking in the remaining buildings, and taking as many photographs as Mick desired, they made their way back to the entrance and made their way to Butchy’s truck. Once they were inside and had the air conditioner on to cool them from the heat of the blistering sun, Mick gave a contented sigh.

“What’s up?” Butchy asked as he rolled out of the parking lot.

“That was a lot of fun,” she said with a smile. “I haven’t been there in ages.”

Butchy chuckled as he pushed open his door to lock the gate of the property, “Well, don’t think we’re done yet.”

“We’re not?”

“Not even close.”

Smiling to herself as her husband got out of the truck, Mick relaxed into the leather of her seat, her fingers tracing the stitching of the material out of habit as she distantly listened to the scrape of metal behind the vehicle. Once Butchy was back in the truck, they were off again, driving further from the towns she knew. A few minutes down the road, Butchy pulled off into a parking lot and rolled to a stop before parking the car and tugging the key from the ignition. Although there was a small beach nearby, Mick couldn’t see the reason for him to want to go there without telling her to bring a bathing suit, so, as Mick turned to Butchy with a raised eyebrow, she was glad to see him already chuckling knowingly at her.

“I figured we could stop and have some late lunch,” he explained. Looking around, he scanned the area before pointing across the lot to a building with a blue roof and a sign with a sun over the water. “There, at Niko’s. It’s a Greek place, but there are som enormal things on the meal like pizza, pasta, and nachos. I figured it would be nice to try something new.”

Smiling at the hopeful glow in Butchy’s cinnamon eyes, Mick took in a breath and nodded, “Sounds great to me.”

Once they had climbed down from the truck, Butchy locked the doors with a beep that echoed through the quiet town and took Mick’s hand in his. The restaurant, though small, was welcoming as cool air pulsed throughout the seating area. The establishment wasn’t anything spectacular - no crisply ironed linens on the tables and certainly no maître d' to guide them to their table - but it was comfortable and the service was great. As the waitress took the menus and headed back to the kitchen to hand in their order, Mick reached across the table for Butchy’s hand and smiled as music flowed through speakers she had yet to find.

Though Butchy’s contentment was palpable as Mick talked about how pleased she was with the date so far, she had to wonder why he was consistently checking his watch once the food arrived. By the time they had eaten and Mick had gotten some baklava for them to share, she could feel her husband’s foot bouncing against the floorboards; a subtle sign that he was growing more and more anxious as time went on. Choosing to ignore it as she was sure he had to have something bigger in mind if he was so worked up over it, Mick worked her way through her portion of the baklava before letting Butchy get up to pay for their meal at the counter.

Once he had returned, Mick grabbed her phone from the table and made sure he had everything he needed before letting him lead the way outside. The air was thick with humidity and made both Butchy and Mick want to go back into the cool, air-conditioned restaurant, however, as Butchy checked his watch once more, they both knew that wasn’t a possibility. Instead of leading the way to the truck, Butchy led her toward the little beach and across a bridge to where a small shack sat on the end of a pier.

“What is this?” Mick asked as Butchy guided her toward the shack.

Rounding the shack with nothing more than a smile, Butchy stepped aside and gestured toward the water with a flourish. In the water was a small, blue and white square with two seats and a blue canopy secured above it. There were a few similar floating squares tied to the dock, but none of them had a canopy like the blue one did. When Mick looked no less confused than she had been, Butchy’s smile faltered ever so slightly and he explained, “It’s a pedal boat. I figured we could ride out on the lake for a while.”

Glad to finally know what was going on, Mick beamed, “Let’s do it, then.”

With newfound excitement, Butchy led his wife to their trusty little boat and stepped aboard before offering Mick a hand and helping her settle into her seat. Once they had gotten away from the shore and far enough from the beach that they no longer had to worry about people crossing their path, the pair slowed their pedaling and allowed the water to pull them where it wanted. Relaxing in her seat, Mick looked at her husband with a smile as she watched the water shimmer behind him. Although it wasn’t exactly quiet as they were still near the beach, the air between them was calm and quiet - a sort of peace that brought feelings of simple joy. Serenity filled the air as the water’s gentle flow inched them further from the shore. 

Taking in a slow, deep breath as she tipped her head back to examine the fading design on the canopy above them, Mick spoke contemplatively, “You know, I think I made a mistake.”

“You did?” Butchy asked, peering over at Mick with curious, almost concerned, amber eyes. Mick nodded and, in return, Butchy asked, “What would that be?”

“I brought my new book.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Butchy wondered, “How is that a mistake?”

“I’m not exactly getting any reading done,” Mick explained with a hint of a smirk as she met Butchy’s eyes. “I thought we were just having a picnic or something and that I’d have all the time in the world to read, but I’ve left it in the car all day.”

Allowing the building tension in his shoulders to release as Mick’s statement eased his mind, Butchy chuckled, “Well, in that case, maybe I'll just have to cancel the rest of my plans for the day so that you can get some reading done.”

“No!” Mick exclaimed. Finding the mirth in his eyes, Mick huffed, “You wouldn’t.”

“Is that a dare?” Butchy teased.

“No,” Mick began, “it’s a fact. You’ve had this whole day planned out and I know that, if you have something planned still, you’ll stick to it unless I ask you not to.”

Butchy chuckled, nodding his agreement to her claim, wondering if she knew just how true it was. Discreetly checking his watch as Mick began talking about how excited she was to finally start reading the book she had heard so much about, Butchy wondered how long he could keep her occupied. They still had another two hours on the pedal boat if they wanted and, if he knew Mick at all, she would want to search the beach for shells to add to her ever-growing collection. With any luck, it would be eight in no time and they would be on their way to the final event of the day.

Once he stopped checking his watch, time began to flow like sand in an hourglass. Before he knew it, they were on Weirs Beach, searching the shoreline for sea shells and sand dollars as the sun began to sink over the horizon. Once Mick had filled not only her pockets, but also Butchy’s with a collection of shells and shiny rocks she would share with everyone once they arrived back at the camp, he led her back to the truck where they emptied their pockets into the glovebox, Mick traded her shorts for warmer sweatpants, and the pair allowed the cooler, evening air to fill the humid cabin before closing the doors. 

Their drive didn’t last long as Butchy joined the main stream of traffic and followed the curve of the street to a small dirt road. Pulling up to a small building with a single light above it, a myriad of mosquitos and other insects bouncing around the lamp, Butchy rolled to a stop and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. Pulling out a couple of bills, he held out the money to the attendant who looked positively thrilled to be stuck manning the gate.

“Screen one has Barbie and The Haunted Mansion. Screen two has Insidious and Mission Impossible,” the exhausted worker listed off as they slotted the money into the register. “Which would you like?”

Butchy looked to Mick who, despite the darkening skies, was positively glowing as she excitedly held up a single finger. Turning back to the worker, Butchy replied, “Screen one, please.”

“Mhm,” the worker hummed. “Go left after the gate and try to park somewhere in the middle or back rows. Leave the front for the smaller cars. The snack shack and ice cream stand will be open until the second movie starts, but the bathrooms on the sides of the building remain open until we close. Remember to keep your headlights off and radio on since the movies will play over station ninety-seven-point-five.”

“Thanks,” Butchy said as Mick began fiddling with the radio. Once the worker nodded and waved him off, Butchy put the car back in gear and began rolling down the dirt path again, turning to the left and following the pathways made by other cars until he reached the parking area for the screen they had chosen. Finding a spot near the middle where Mick always liked to park when they went to drive-ins back in St. Pete Beach, Butchy drove in so that the tailgate face the screen before telling Mick she could turn the radio back off once again.

“But we need to have it on the right station or we won’t hear the movie,” she argued gently as she tried to find the right channel.

“We will,” Butchy agreed, “but not on that. I brought a radio from camp to use while we’re in the back.”

“The back?” Mick wondered as she finally looked up. Looking around, she realized Butchy had parked them facing away from the screen. Glancing through the back window at the covered tailgate, Mick asked, “How, exactly, are we going to sit back there?”

Butchy chuckled, taking the opportunity to kiss Mick’s cheek before suggesting, “How about you go get some snacks and drinks and I’ll figure that out?”

With a somewhat skeptical shrug, Mick relented and slid out of the vehicle after Butchy insisted she take his wallet with her. Once there was a bit of distance between his wife and the vehicle they had arrived in, Butchy climbed out of the truck and quickly unclipped the cover of his truck bed, rolling it back into place and examining the setup he had placed in the back end earlier in the day. The mattress and pillows Vivien had helped him smuggle from the storage shed were still snuggly secured in the back while the stack of blankets he and Miles had arranged in a sort of makeshift nest had shifted around quite a bit in their travels. Still, it looked alright and, as he dislodged the radio from its hiding place, he realized it wouldn’t matter much to Mick how it looked. It was the thought that counted.

By the time Mick had returned with two buckets of popcorn, a set of drinks, and her back pockets filled with boxes of cheap theater candy, Butchy had gotten everything set up and arranged the radio to stay on the right channel. Stepping around to the back of the truck, Mick’s eyes widened in disbelief as she breathed, “When did you have the time for all of this?”

“I have my ways,” Butchy stated as he gingerly slid the snacks from Mick’s dumbstruck grip. “Are you ready for a movie night?”

Letting out a breath of a laugh, Mick nodded eagerly, “Hell yeah!”

Without thinking to let Butchy help her, Mick moved to the side of the truck, stepped on the rim of the tire, and hauled herself over the side. Dropping onto the mattress, she held out her hands and took back the snacks so that Butchy could climb in and make himself comfortable. Once he had settled, she relaxed beside him and allowed herself to relax as he brought an arm around her shoulders. Peering down at his wife, Butchy smiled, pleased with how happy she seemed to be. As Mick lifted her head and met his gaze, Butchy brought a hand to the side of her neck, rubbing his thumb along her jawline as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Slowly retreating from the gentle kiss, Butchy asked, “Was it worth the wait?”

Mick hummed, slowly peeling her eyes open once more as a giddy grin tugged at her lips, “Absolutely.”

[beardedmrbean]

PHOENIX - A teenage boy shot a man trying to break into his home near 75th Avenue and Camelback Road Friday night, police said.

Officers were called to the neighborhood at around 10 p.m. on Sept. 8, according to police.

Here are the details on what happened: 

Who's the suspect?

Court documents identified the suspect as Juan Saavedra.

Saavedra, according to court documents, turned 36 on Sept. 11, three days following his arrest. Court documents listed a number of prior arrests and convictions for Saavedra, but those entries were redacted from the court documents we received.

In court documents, Saavedra is listed as a transient.

What led to Saavedra's arrest?

Court documents state that Phoenix Police officers responded to a residential neighborhood near 75th Avenue and Camelback Road for a burglary in progress call at around 10:05 p.m.

When officers arrived at around 10:13 p.m., they contacted a man in front of a home, later identified as Saavedra.

"As officers approached this male, they observed him to be suffering from apparent gun shot wounds to his abdomen and right arm," read a portion of the court documents.

Eventually, officers made contact with an alleged victim, who told officers she had received a motion notification on her security system, and then saw Saavedra on her security camera walking around the front of her home.

"The victim stated she exited her residence and gave the defendant several commands to leave the area or he was at risk of being shot, in an attempt to scare him away from the residences front yard area," read a portion of the court documents. "The victim stated she then ran back inside of her residence, instructing one of her children to close and lock the door behind her. The victim stated as she entered her residence, she began calling police and went to retrieve a firearm in order to protect herself, her husband and five children located inside."

The alleged victim, according to police, later heard Saavedra bang on a carport door. After she told her children to move away from the area and hide as far away as possible, she heard the glass windowpane of the carport door shatter, and Saavedra's hand reaching inside.

"The victim stated as she stood with the firearm, she observed the defendants hand came through the now open and broken window, and reached for the doors doorknob in an attempt to open the door,' read a portion of the statement. "The victim stated at this point her 13-year-old son, seeing that the defendant was attempting to make entry and his mother was not firing the firearm, in fear for the safety of himself and family, took the firearm from his mother and fired the firearm towards the defendant, striking him."

Saavedra, according to investigators, was later taken to the hospital for treatment of his injuries, and was eventually released into police custody.

What led to the incident taking place?

In an interview that was done after Saavedra was read his Miranda rights, court documents state that detectives asked Saavedra on why he tried to get into the home. Saavedra replied that he had been smoking methamphetamine with a friend for about 48 hours prior to the incident, and that he was trying to locate his friend in various residential yards.

"The defendant stated upon approaching the victim's residence he heard her inform him to leave the area. The defendant stated he then approached the carport door of the residence, and believed it to be his son, despite knowing the residence did not belong to him," read a portion of the court documents.

When asked by police if he knew his actions could scare the people inside the home, court documents say Saavedra replied, "Yeah, I mean I was high obviously."

So, what happens to the suspect now?

According to court documents, Saavedra is accused of 2nd Degree Burglary, which is a felony.

Meanwhile, a judge has set a $50,000 cash-only bond for Saavedra, according to documents.

Neighbors said they heard several gunshots. Some ducked down on the floor.

They say it’s troubling to hear police say this suspect was seemingly attempting to break into their neighbor's home randomly.

"I’m happy that they had something to defend themselves," a neighbor said. "I would have, we would have done the same thing, so I feel good for them."

[uncloseted]

Do you have any advice for actually sleeping? I do shift work and sometimes I'm working until 11:30 and when I get home I eat dinner and by then it's like 1 am /: I also have school in a different city so I have to wake up really early some days like 7 or 6. I feel really bad all the time because I never sleep enough, and sometimes when I lay down to sleep because I'm exhausted i just can't sleep. Like my body only wants to sleep when it's super inconvenient making me late for stuff.

The first thing I would suggest is working on developing good sleep hygiene. 

Be consistent. Usually, this means going to sleep and waking up at the same time every day, but since that's not an option for you, I would recommend having the same bedtime routine that you do every night. Limit your exposure to your phone, computer, video games, and TV for at least an hour before bed, since they're stimulating and can keep your mind active. Instead, try taking a hot shower, do a nighttime skincare routine, read a book, mediate or practice relaxation exercises, and do other activities that you find calming.

Make sure your bedroom is conducive to sleep.  A quiet, dark, cool bedroom is important for quality sleep.  Consider getting ear plugs, a face mask, blackout curtains for you windows, and/or a weighted blanket.

Avoid large meals, citrus fruits, spicy food, fatty or fried food, caffeine, and alcohol before bedtime. For you, it might be better to eat a large meal before work and then have a smaller meal before bed so that it's easier to sleep.

Work on your health in other aspects of your life.  Having good nutrition and getting regular exercise can help to improve your quality of sleep.

If you’re going to nap during the day, limit napping to 30 minutes or less, once a day, before 5pm.

Make sure you get adequate exposure to sunlight.  Your body’s internal clock can get off track if you’re spending too much time inside or in the dark.  Along with that, it can help to dim your lights indoors when it gets dark out.

Put your phone out of reach when you’re in bed, and put it on Do Not Disturb mode to block notifications that might wake you up during the night.

If you’re not asleep after 20 minutes, get out of bed, go to another room, and do something relaxing, like reading or listening to music until you are tired enough to sleep.

Turn your clock’s face away from you, if you have one in your room at all. Staring at a clock when you are trying to fall asleep or when you wake in the middle of the night can actually increase stress, making it harder to fall asleep.

If your anxiety is keeping you up at night, write your thoughts down before you go to sleep.  Getting them out will prevent them from circling in your head while you’re trying to sleep.

Try to only use your bed for sleeping.  Do “daytime activities” in other areas of your room/apartment/house. This will help to train your brain to recognize that bed = sleep and make it easier for you to fall asleep.

As far as actually falling asleep goes, often our bodies are tired but our brains are still active. The most common way to combat that is called the "military method". Here's what you do:

Lie down in your bed.

Relax your entire face, including the muscles inside your mouth.

Drop your shoulders to release the tension, and let your hands drop to the side of your body.

Exhale, relaxing your chest.

Relax your legs, thighs, and calves.

Clear your mind for 10 seconds by imagining a relaxing scene.

If this doesn’t work, try saying “don’t think” repeatedly for 10 seconds.

A longer version of this is called "progressive muscle relaxation":

Raise your eyebrows as high as possible for 5 seconds. This will tighten your forehead muscles.

Relax your muscles immediately and feel the tension drop. Wait 10 seconds.

Smile widely to create tension in your cheeks. Hold for 5 seconds. Relax.

Pause 10 seconds.

Squint with your eyes shut. Hold 5 seconds. Relax.

Pause 10 seconds.

Tilt your head slightly back so you’re comfortable looking at the ceiling. Hold 5 seconds. Relax as your neck sinks back into the pillow.

Pause 10 seconds.

Keep moving down the rest of the body, from your triceps to chest, thighs to feet.

Let yourself fall asleep, even if you don’t finish tensing and relaxing the rest of your body.

You can also try to do 4-7-8 breathing, where you breathe in for 4 beats, hold your breath for 7 beats, and breathe out for 8 beats. If you do this around four times, it should help your body to calm down and help your mind rest.

Another way you can get your mind to calm down is to focus it on something very specific. I've seen people recommend that you try to remember the plot of a movie you've seen recently scene-by-scene, but you could also try to visualize a place in extreme detail, count backwards by sevens, try to come up with one country for each letter of the alphabet- whatever keeps your mind busy, but isn't so stimulating that you'll want to actually get up and focus on the activity. Keep pulling your focus back to the activity when you notice it drifting, and eventually you should just fall asleep.

[rudolf-mackenzie]

How to Speed Up Your Windows 11 PC

1. Manage autostart programs-disable unnecessary startup program.

Here is how to stop a program from starting automatically

Select the Start  button, then select Settings  > Apps  > Startup .In the Startup Apps area, find the program you want to stop from starting automatically and set it to Off.

2. Clear memory via disk cleanup

To delete temporary files:

In the search box on the taskbar, type disk cleanup, and select Disk Cleanup from the list of results.

Select the drive you want to clean up, and then select OK.

Under Files to delete, select the file types to get rid of. To get a description of the file type, select it.

Select OK.

If you need to free up more space, you can also delete system files:

In Disk Cleanup, select Clean up system files.

Select the file types to get rid of. To get a description of the file type, select it.

Select OK.

3. Uninstall obsolete programs

Select the Start  button, then select Settings  > Apps.

Find the programs you don’t need, click on it and then select “uninstall”

4.  Turn off shadows, animations, and visual effects

In the Windows 11 search box, type sysdm.cpl, press Enter, and then click the sysdm.cpl icon. That launches the Control Panel’s System Properties dialog box. Click the Advanced tab and click Settings in the Performance section. That brings you to the Performance Options dialog box. (Make sure you’re on the Visual Effects tab of the dialog box.) You’ll see a varied list of animations and special effects.

These are the animations and special effects you’ll probably want to turn off, because they have the greatest effect on system performance:

Animate controls and elements inside windows

Animate windows when minimizing and maximizing

Animations in the taskbar

Fade or slide menus into view

Fade or slide ToolTips into view

Fade out menu items after clicking

Show shadows under windows

However, it’s a lot easier to just select the Adjust for best performance option at the top of the screen and click OK. Windows 11 will then turn off the effects that slow down your system.

5. Turn off background apps

Select the Start  button, then select Settings  > Apps .

Scroll to the entry of the background app you wish to adjust settings for.

Click on the three-dot icon and then on “Advanced options”.

In the “Background apps permissions” section, select “Never”.

6. Turn off app notifications

Select the Start  button, then select Settings  > System> Notifications, and move the slider to “Off”.

7. Make sure you have the latest updates for Windows and device driver

Select the Start  button, then select Settings  > Windows Update  > Check for updates.

Select the updates you want to install, then select Install.

Restart your PC and see if it seems to run better.

8. Check for low disk space and free up space

You may improve performance if you free some disk space on your PC.

To check for low disk space

Select the Start  button, then select Settings  > System  > Storage . Open Storage settings

Your drives will be listed in the Storage area. Note the amount of free space and total size for each drive.

9. Pause OneDrive Syncing

On the taskbar, look for OneDrive  near the notification area.

Select OneDrive  > Help & Settings  > Pause syncing,and then choose how long you want to pause syncing your files.

10.  Check for and remove viruses and malware

Running a system scan to find viruses and malware. If you’ve already installed a security suite such as Norton Security or McAfee LiveSafe, you can use that. Windows 11’s built-in anti-malware app, Windows Defender, also does a great job. 

Just type Windows Defender in the search box, press Enter, and click Scan Now. Windows Defender will look for malware and remove any it finds.

11. Last but not the least , if your have a non-genuine Windows 11 on your computer , please activate it with a genuine Windows 11 Key from the Microsfot partner store keyingo.com

[lindholmline]

going to be inactive bc i’m on vacation visiting my bestie!!! but i’ve had a crazy 24 hrs and some how my spirits are still high

story below the break

so at 10:30 am yesterday morning i got a notification that jetblue cancelled my flight @ 4 pm. instead of panicking i spent $173 on a new flight with southwest

at 12 pm, that flight gets delayed (you just gotta laugh)

4:30 pm waiting to board, it gets delayed again (only by 15 minutes this time)

4:45 pm i’m in line ready to board (i paid for priority boarding so I was A 13 bc free for all seating stresses me out)

4:50 pm this random middle aged woman comes and stands next to our area (11-14) and says nothing, so i ask her what her boarding thing was (her paper ticket was all folded) and she replies “i don’t know A 15” and i said “oh great! i’m A 13” she looks me dead in the eyes and says “IT’S REALLY NOT THAT SERIOUS” i just smiled (the woman behind me scoffed though) and then she left her suitcase and stormed off to the desk (she came back without another word)

5 pm we are boarding! yay! she doesn’t cut me off, in fact she doesn’t board with A 1-30 at all she literally boards at the very end of the B boarding group (i laughed when she boarded so late from my row 6 window seat)

immediately upon boarding the family behind me (two daughters and their mom) are fighting. like hitting and kicking each other and yelling (the whole flight is staring) let the record show the kids are probably 12/13 and way too old to be behaving like that

after listening to the fighting, a flight attendant traveling in the row in front of me, got up and offered to switch seats with one of them (they declined, were quiet for a minute before continuing to fight)

the girl behind me told her mom “you’re selfish for making me come on this trip, i don’t care about washington, i don’t trust a thing you say” the mom was like “no let’s make the most of it, we’ll have fun” before the daughter said “if you didn’t make me come i wouldn’t have lost my airpods” to which the mom said “but i bought you new ones to replace them” and the daughter screams (yes i was wearing noise cancelling headphones) “i would still have my original ones though it doesn’t matter”

she continued to kick and push my seat the whole flight, while the man in the middle man spread so bad his foot was on my backpack and i could feel his leg hair on mine

but i made it! and had a good night!

this morning jetblue informed me i won’t be getting a refund, which is the only thing that has nearly brought me to tears in the past 24 hrs

[gamblingrewards]

JioCinema Live: Experience the Thrill of Live Streaming on the Go

Introduction: When Moments Matter, Stream Them Live

In today’s fast-paced world, entertainment is no longer something we wait for—it's something we access instantly. Whether it's a last-over IPL chase, a red carpet award show, or a breaking live event, the JioCinema Live feature ensures you’re always at the heart of the action, wherever you are.

Built for India's mobile-first users, JioCinema Live transforms smartphones into live broadcast portals, offering real-time, multi-language, high-definition streams—for free.

From Passive Watching to Live Participation

Traditional streaming lets you binge. Live streaming lets you belong.

JioCinema Live shifts entertainment from passive consumption to active participation. You’re not just watching the match—you’re reacting to it, rewinding that six, switching camera angles, and hearing commentary in your mother tongue. The moment becomes yours.

Why Viewers Prefer JioCinema Live

1. Free Access for Jio Users

Forget pay-per-view or locked content. If you have a Jio SIM, you have access to premium live broadcasts at no extra cost.

2. HD & 4K Streaming Quality

From high-end smartphones to entry-level devices, JioCinema Live ensures smooth, buffer-free playback in the best possible resolution, adapting automatically to your network.

3. Language Flexibility

Whether you speak Hindi, Tamil, Telugu, Bengali, or Kannada—there’s a live stream in your language, making every moment feel local and personal.

4. Interactive Viewing Tools

Pause, rewind, replay goals or wickets. Check live scores, player stats, or even toggle between camera angles—all while the action continues.

What’s Live on JioCinema?

While sports is a major attraction, the platform offers far more in its live catalog:

Cricket leagues (IPL, India internationals)

Football tournaments (global and domestic)

Live Bollywood and music award nights

Cultural events, parades, and festivals

Spiritual and religious broadcasts

Whether you're a die-hard sports fan or someone who enjoys celebratory moments, JioCinema Live makes sure you don’t miss what matters most.

Real-Time Streaming for Real Indian Moments

A typical user journey might look like:

7:30 AM: A parent streams a morning devotional in Marathi during chai time.

2:00 PM: A college student watches a live football match during break.

7:30 PM: A family gathers around the smart TV to watch an IPL game in 4K.

10:00 PM: Friends rewind match highlights together on their phones, chatting about the final over.

JioCinema Live is integrated into real lives—not just virtual spaces.

Built for the Realities of Indian Networks

Understanding that not everyone has access to fiber speeds, JioCinema’s live engine is designed to:

Auto-adjust video quality to avoid buffering

Use minimal data while preserving clarity

Offer instant resume if a stream drops or disconnects

Save live segments for replay even if you join late

This makes the experience reliable—even in low-bandwidth rural areas.

A Platform That Evolves with You

As JioCinema Live grows, expect more real-time innovations:

Social chat overlays while watching

User-generated reactions and watch-alongs

Personalized notifications when your favorite team is about to play

Local event live-streams based on your region

It’s not just about broadcasting—it’s about making every screen a window into the now.

Final Thoughts: Why JioCinema Live Works

Live content is emotional. It’s urgent. It’s unforgettable. And JioCinema Live makes it accessible, affordable, and authentic. Whether you’re at home or away, solo or in a crowd, on Wi-Fi or 4G, the platform brings you the action in real time—and in your language.

Because when the moment is happening now, you shouldn’t wait to experience it.

[millaphleb]

Open Your Career Potential: A Complete Guide to ASCP Phlebotomy Certification

Unlock Your Career Potential: A Complete Guide to ASCP Phlebotomy Certification

In today’s healthcare landscape, the role of a phlebotomist is⁢ more critical than ever. Earning your ASCP Phlebotomy Certification can significantly improve your career opportunities and earning potential. ​This comprehensive guide provides everything you ⁤need to know to unlock your career potential through ASCP certification.

what is ASCP Phlebotomy Certification?

The American Society for Clinical Pathology (ASCP) offers a nationally recognized phlebotomy certification that validates your expertise in drawing blood and handling specimens. This certification ⁣is vital for aspiring phlebotomists as it demonstrates your skills, knowledge, ‌and commitment ⁤to the profession.

Eligibility‍ Criteria for ASCP Certification

A high school diploma or equivalent.

Completion of a phlebotomy training program OR at least 104 ⁣hours of training with‍ supervised clinical experience.

Completion of at least ⁣30 successful venipunctures and 10 capillary sticks.

Benefits of ASCP Phlebotomy Certification

Earning your ASCP Phlebotomy Certification⁢ comes with⁢ numerous advantages:

Enhanced Job Opportunities: Certified phlebotomists are more sought after by employers.

Higher Earning Potential: Certification ​often leads to better pay.

Professional Credibility: ‌Certification provides recognition from peers and employers.

Career ‌Advancement: It opens pathways‌ to advanced⁣ positions in healthcare.

Steps to Obtain⁣ ASCP Phlebotomy Certification

1.Readiness

Effective preparation is⁤ crucial for success in the certification exam. Here ⁣are some practical tips:

Review the ASCP Phlebotomy ​Certification Handbook.

Enrol in a dedicated review ‌course or study group.

Utilize online resources and practice tests to gauge your understanding.

2. Register for‍ the Exam

Once ⁢you feel prepared, you can register for the ASCP exam through their official website. Make sure to pay attention to deadlines and fees‍ involved:

Step

Details

Registration Fee

$135 (subject⁤ to change)

Testing⁢ Window

Offered year-round

Results Notification

Promptly after the exam

3. Take the Exam

The ASCP Phlebotomy exam consists of multiple-choice questions that assess your proficiency ⁢in phlebotomy practices and procedures. Here are ‍a‌ few study tips:

Focus on key phlebotomy concepts.

Practice your ‌time management ​skills ⁢during mock exams.

4. Maintain ‌Your Certification

After certification, it’s essential to ‌stay current with continuing education. ASCP requires⁣ phlebotomists to complete a certain number of⁣ continuing education units (CEUs) every three years to maintain certification.

First-Hand Experience: A Journey to Certification

Meet‍ Sarah, a phlebotomist who recently obtained her ASCP certification. Here’s ​her story:

“After completing my‍ training program, I felt unprepared for the challenges⁤ ahead. The ASCP⁣ study ⁤materials made all the difference in my ​confidence. I joined a study group and took several practice exams, which​ helped me identify my weak areas. Earning my⁣ certification opened doors to better ⁢job opportunities, and I now work in a ⁣well-respected hospital.” – Sarah J.

Case Studies: Success Stories from Certified Phlebotomists

Case Study 1: John’s Journey

John worked as a medical⁢ assistant before pursuing phlebotomy certification. With his ASCP certification, he moved into a dedicated phlebotomy role, resulting in a 20% pay increase within six months!

Case Study 2: Emily’s Conversion

Emily struggled ⁢to find a job in the healthcare field. After earning her ASCP Phlebotomy Certification, she landed a position in a high-demand laboratory, significantly enhancing her career ⁤trajectory.

Conclusion

The ASCP ⁢Phlebotomy‌ certification⁤ is a gateway to ‌numerous career advancements and professional development opportunities. By understanding the certification steps, benefits, and valuable first-hand experiences, you can confidently embark on your journey to becoming a certified ⁢phlebotomist. take the plunge today—your future awaits!

https://phlebotomycertificationcourse.net/open-your-career-potential-a-complete-guide-to-ascp-phlebotomy-certification/