#flex spaces in Atlanta

[stratuspropertygroup]

Flex Space Near Me

Find convenient and flexible workspace options near you with Stratus Property Group!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Fairy Tale mansion for the wealthy witches & fairies. It was built in 1935 in Atlanta, GA, has 4bds, 4ba, $4.75M. But, it's magical. Take a look around. Look at the niche to the left of the front door.

First, we stop at this little stone she shed for gardening tools, etc. Can you imagine decorating this as a sanctuary?

Look at the skylights and the potting table.

And, now we move on to the main house. Spacious, yet cozy living room has a big stone fireplace and fancy beams.

Next to the living room, there's a home office/den. Note the doorway arches with wood and stone.

From there, enter the spacious sun room. Wouldn't this be magical if it had a bright tropical decor? Up-lighting around the ceiling, a sky light, and big windows for plenty of sunlight.

Very formal dining room. This home could be stunning with some color. If I had the millions to buy it, I would work with a professional designer.

The kitchen has an interestingly shaped island. The white counters create a contrast against the darker wood of the cabinets. That gray wall has to go.

You have to picture your own decorating style in this sitting room. I don't care for this look, and it's a flex space.

The primary suite. The bedroom is too formal, too boring, but I would definitely keep the bath.

This secondary is nice and roomy with stone walls.

And, here's one of the other 4 baths.

Step down to cozy family room. Could be a cool room.

Rocky little room with a wine rack.

Outside there's a courtyard with a lovely patio.

The little stone grill has a gas grill inside.

Here's the garage. The stone walls are amazing.

There's so much to see, strolling the grounds.

The gardens are magical.

Sooo pretty.

With the right decor this home could be stunning.

This is like a Wonderland.

Koi pond.

Like a botanical garden attraction.

Then, back around to the house.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1050-E-Club-Ln-NE-Atlanta-GA-30319/35903212_zpid/?

[atlurbanist]

I'll be joining a great group of panelists at the Equity in Architecture Forum 2024 at Georgia Tech later this month!

The topic: what a more accessible, inclusive, and equitable future can look like for the built environment of cities like Atlanta.

Date/Time: Wed. March 27th, 3:30PM-6:00PM Location: Caddell Building (Flex Space), GA Tech Follow EQiA on Instagram

[chicagocubsreactions]

MLB players dressing down Nike, Fanatics over new uniforms that look ‘like a replica’

[Original article]

The top story of spring training so far has nothing to do with the seams and stitches on a baseball. Instead, the talk of spring is all about the seams and stitches of the new jersey that Major League Baseball’s on-field uniform provider has rolled out for this season: the Nike Vapor Premier.

Nike claims the new jersey is softer, lighter and stretchier than the previous model. Many players say it’s worse. In clubhouses around the league on Wednesday, they criticized the jerseys’ poor fit, cheap look, inconsistent quality and small lettering.

“It looks like a replica,” Angels outfielder Taylor Ward said. “It feels kind of like papery. It could be great when you’re out there sweating, it may be breathable. But I haven’t had that opportunity yet to try that out. But from the looks of it, it doesn’t look like a $450 jersey.

“So far, thumbs down.”

At his locker, Angels reliever Carlos Estévez was in a tizzy over the new threads. He pulled out a couple tops and pairs of pants to show that the shades didn’t match. He laughed at the spacing and shrunken nature of the lettering on the back of the jersey. And he bemoaned the fact he can’t customize his pants to his preference, the way pitchers once could, tailoring the fit to their big dumpers and tree-trunk thighs.

“When I wear my pants, I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s pants,” Estévez said.

“I could see Estévez (flexing),” Ward said, “and it just ripping in the back.”

An airing of sartorial grievances that began earlier this week at the St. Louis Cardinals complex in Jupiter, Fla. has resulted in Nike, which engineered and designed the jerseys, and Fanatics, which manufactured them, facing blowback from big leaguers and baseball fans alike. The complaints prompted players to take their displeasure to their union, and the MLBPA is now involved in relaying the players’ concerns.

But anyone paying attention only to official channels would have little idea what the fuss was about. As that storm of criticism brewed in clubhouses, MLB and Nike ran a joint press release about the new jersey that included rave reviews from Cardinals third baseman Nolan Arenado (“It’s almost like wearing my favorite shirt out on the field”), Orioles catcher Adley Rutschman (“much more breathable, with vents on the numbers and better airflow all around”) and reigning NL MVP Ronald Acuña Jr. (“Feeling free in the jersey is the best feeling in the world”). All wear Nike gear in games. So do several other stars who have publicly praised the jerseys since Nike debuted them at the 2023 All-Star Game: Mike Trout, Kenley Jansen, Corbin Carroll and Jason Heyward.

Chicago Cubs shortstop Dansby Swanson, who has a Nike endorsement deal, said he reached out to Nike contacts Tuesday to discuss the new jerseys. He’s all for the new materials, he said, but some of the design decisions — like the specific shade of blue on the Cubs jerseys — are worth reconsidering.

“Cubbie blue is its own blue, right?” Swanson said. “This blue on the uniform is a little bit different than Cubbie blue. So how can we just recapture that?”

Swanson’s broader point was that in the design process, Nike may have removed some elements that make each team’s jersey their own. In Cardinals camp, for example, they lamented losing the chain-stitching of player names on the jersey.

“You wouldn’t change the font of, let’s say, the (Atlanta) Falcons,” Swanson said, referring to his favorite National Football League team. “They have a little bit of a futuristic block lettering. That’s unique to their jersey. You wouldn’t then go put that on the New York Giants jersey.” He added, “With some of those things, it’s like this makes a Cubs uniform a Cubs uniform. It doesn’t need to change. I think that they will probably have to end up figuring out a way to kind of go back to what it used to be.”

It is unclear whether these uniforms will differ from those worn in the regular season.

Nike did not respond to a request for comment.

While the jerseys themselves have changed, the main parties in the creation process have been the same since Nike became MLB’s official on-field uniform provider in December 2019, reportedly paying more than $1 billion for a 10-year deal. (Under Armour initially won that bid, back in 2016, but that deal fell apart and Nike swooshed in.) Nike partnered with Fanatics — which had purchased MLB’s 2005-19 uniform supplier, Majestic, in April 2017 — to manufacture the jerseys. So the Nike jerseys are now produced by Fanatics, out of the same Pennsylvania factory where Majestic jerseys were once made.

Chris Creamer, who runs SportsLogos.net, explained in an email Wednesday that it’s surprisingly common for one company to create jerseys for another brand like Fanatics is now doing for Nike. When Fanatics takes over as the National Hockey League’s uniform outfitter this fall, the Fanatics-branded jerseys will be manufactured at the same Quebec factory as the Adidas ones NHL players are wearing this season.

“The money exchanged in these deals is really just for that brand’s corporate logo on the jersey,” Creamer wrote. “The leagues or the companies involved don’t seem too bothered by who is actually producing it.”

A Fanatics spokesperson declined to comment.

Nike claims that in designing the Nike Vapor Premier it “body-scanned more than 300 baseball players to dial in the ideal fit — more athletic and form-fitting than the previous chassis,” which is clothes-speak for template. But a common complaint among players is that Nike has limited the customization of jerseys.

Pitchers, in particular, are huffing about their pants. Before last year, according to multiple pitchers, they had several measurements taken for their pants, which then were tailored. Nike has since simplified the fitting process, and tailoring is not on the table. (“You’re telling me that Fernando Tatis is going to be on the field without painted-on pants?” a pitcher joked. “Robbie Ray with some baggy pants?”)

Some clubhouse managers have taken on the task of tailoring.

Yankees reliever Tommy Kahnle, who fans have given the nickname “Tommy Tightpants,” has leaned into the look. He reached into his locker for his new trousers Wednesday and gave them a “stretch test” with his hands. Not tight enough. Kahnle hadn’t actually put them on yet, but he knew.

“I like the old ones,” Kahnle declared.

A Dodger said he was swimming in his pants.

A Tiger loudly complained, “These pants they made are terrible.”

Among the design tweaks Nike made to this year’s jersey, according to Uni Watch’s Paul Lukas, are stretchier fabric, changing home jerseys from white to a subtle off-white, narrowing the placket (the vertical strip on the front of the shirt upon which the buttons sit), altering the belt loops, moving the MLB logo down on the back of the jersey and reducing the size of the last-name lettering. The latter change has fans fuming and players scratching their heads.

(Link to tweet showing the difference in the jerseys)

Tigers catcher Jake Rogers, who had no other complaints about the jerseys (“It feels good”), noticed that the lettering was visibly smaller this year. “You see an old jersey, my name was like this,” he said, gesturing with his hands, “using up a lot of room.”

“Look at the last names, bro,” Estévez said. “I’m 6-foot-6. This is going to look tiny on me.”

“I think the last names look really bad honestly,” a Cardinals player said. “I saw someone on Twitter said this looks like a Walmart jersey.”

Nike will sell three versions of the Nike Vapor Premier jerseys to fans: Limited Jersey (“inspired by the on-field jersey”), Game Jersey (“replica player jersey”) and Elite Jersey (“authentic jersey, as worn by player on-field”). Only the Limited jersey is currently available; an Acuña can be had for $174.99.

Now situated at Cubs spring training in Mesa, Ariz., Swanson has been sort of stuck in the middle, privy to both complaints from players about the jerseys and chats with Nike employees about them.

“It’s one of those things where there’s good and bad,” Swanson said. “It’s hard to sit here and just blast them about it or praise them for it. There’s stuff on both sides, and I think the beauty is they’re willing to have those conversations. Obviously, if it’s a change of anything, initial reactions are always going to be (strong). But I do think there are some things that could be altered to make it better.”

Whether or not Nike makes changes, this jersey looks different. It feels different. It’ll take time, however, to know whether the Nike Vapor Premier is actually better or worse than the version before it. When Majestic in 2016 introduced its “Cool Base” jersey — lighter, moisture-wicking, more flexible — they felt thinner and cheaper, Creamer said. There were design complications. There was criticism. But eventually, everyone moved on.

Reds catcher Luke Maile said changing jerseys is like changing toilet paper.

“You notice it at first,” he said, “but after a while, it’s just your toilet paper.”

[livingatlantasuburbs]

The Home that is the Beyoncé of Real Estate Right Now

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5tMZLiiwps 🚨 New Listing Vibes Activated 🚨 📍 1231 Ellington Court, Forsyth County, GA This isn’t just a house—it’s the Beyoncé of real estate: flawless, fabulous, and full of surprises. From the oversized granite island (yes, it needs its own zip code) to a private movie room made for premieres, this Windermere beauty delivers space, style, and serious main-character energy. ✨ Enjoy screened porch sunsets, a dreamy kitchen, a finished basement built for entertaining, and a cul-de-sac setting perfect for cartwheels and cornhole. Flex space? Check. Backyard bliss? Check. Views? You better believe it. Located in the sought-after Windermere Golf & Country Club and zoned for top-rated South Forsyth schools, this one is a total showstopper. 💬 Thinking heart eyes? You’re not the only one. DM us for a private showing before someone else calls it home. 📍 Listed by The Cole Team with Real Broker #WindermereLiving #ColeTeamListing #CummingGARealEstate #LakeLanierViews #BeyonceOfRealEstate #SouthForsythHomes #ColeTeamCrush #ThisOneHitsDifferent #ForsythCountyRealEstate #GeorgiaHomesForSale #LuxuryListingGA via Living in the Atlanta Suburbs https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCG4KUocMyKLOQjZVyhe3pdA May 31, 2025 at 04:52PM

[spintaxi]

Black Men's Fashion Says...

For Black Men, Fashion Says "I Have a Job" - And Also "Please Don't Shoot"

By SpinTaxi Magazine - Where Style Is Survival, and Satire Is Tailored to Fit The Tuxedo as Armor and the Durag as Rebellion Fashion for Black men in America is not just a matter of personal taste-it's a survival tactic, a code-switching costume, and a pressure-sensitive landmine of public perception. According to a 2024 poll by the Fashion & Racial Identity Institute (which we just made up), 74% of Black men feel dressing formally helps them avoid negative stereotyping. The other 26% were too busy adjusting their cufflinks to respond. "In my neighborhood," said Marvin Dent, an IT consultant from Atlanta, "a hoodie means you're trying to get comfortable. In the airport, it means you're trying to hijack the plane." Welcome to America, where clothing doesn't just make the man-it decides how the man will be treated by society, law enforcement, and that one nosy lady on Nextdoor who always calls the cops for "loitering while dapper." Dressing for the Job You Already Have (Because Nobody Believes You Do) The phrase "dress for the job you want" was clearly coined by a white man in a Patagonia vest who'd never been followed around a Nordstrom. For Black men, it's more like "dress so people know you have a job and don't call security." Fashion has long been a form of social armor. W.E.B. Du Bois, during his time, wrote that respectability politics meant adhering to "the external trappings of success." In modern terms? Don't wear joggers to court or you might find yourself tried twice-once for the offense and once for the outfit. "I got pulled over on my way to a job interview," said Yale-educated entrepreneur Darnell Fields. "But the cop let me go once he saw my tie. I think he thought I was running for Congress." The Met Gala: Where Black Men Show Up in Silk, Satin, and Subtle Resistance The Met Gala is famously absurd-like a costume party for billionaires who learned history from Instagram. But for Black men, it's one of the rare spaces where flamboyance is not only tolerated, it's celebrated. In a society that often penalizes bold Black expression, the Met Gala becomes a safe zone to flex peacock feathers… literally. Fashion historian (and fictional expert) Dr. Taye Fontaine described it best:"Black men wearing sequined capes isn't just fabulous-it's defiance stitched in Versace." Remember when Lil Nas X arrived in a golden robe that looked like a bishop married a disco ball? That wasn't just sparkle-it was seminary shade and generational subversion. Zoot Suits Were the Original Protest Wear Long before the Met Gala, there were the zoot suits of the 1940s: exaggerated, wide-legged, high-waisted ensembles that screamed, "I will not assimilate quietly." White America saw the zoot suit as criminal, unpatriotic, and somehow unreasonably joyful. Black America saw it as what it was: a declaration of presence, pride, and polyester-based protest. Fun fact: During the Zoot Suit Riots of 1943, hundreds of servicemen attacked Black and brown youth in Los Angeles for daring to outdress them. One rioter told the LA Times, "I just didn't trust anyone with pleats that confident." The Hoodie: High Fashion or High Alert? In Milan, a Black man in a hoodie is a model.In Missouri, a Black man in a hoodie is a suspect.In Manhattan, it depends on the zip code. The hoodie is simultaneously a badge of cool and a trigger of fear. When Kanye West wore one on stage, it was called "a raw political statement." When Trayvon Martin wore one walking home, it was called "suspicious." This is not fashion commentary-it's a survival report. The Durag: From Contraband to Couture Banned in schools. Frowned upon in corporate offices. Denied entry at clubs. And now? Gracefully crawling down the backs of male models at Paris Fashion Week like silk waterfalls of swag. Durags, once criminalized, are now glorified. They moisturize waves and minds. The irony is thick enough to condition 4C curls. As Andre 3000 said (in our dreams), "A man in a durag is just trying to keep his scalp tight and his soul safe." Sneakers Say, "I Have Taste," But Might Also Get You Tased There are two kinds of sneakerheads: those who collect Jordans and those who die in them. A 2023 study from the Nonexistent Center for Urban Shoe Psychology revealed that high-end sneakers increase perceived income… but also increase chances of being asked, "How can you afford that?" Retailer Corey "Kickz" Thompson said it best:"When I step out in $600 Off-Whites, I'm either gonna get a job offer or a pat-down. Sometimes both." The Barber Shop: Church, Therapy, Fashion Week Every fade comes with a lecture. Every lineup is lined with wisdom. At any given moment inside a barbershop, you can overhear: - A debate on the economic implications of LeBron's hairline. - A lecture on the correct pant length for linen suits. - An unsolicited sermon on why you need to stop using 2-in-1 shampoo. Barbershops are where fashion advice is doled out between clippers and conspiracy theories. Color Isn't Just for Flair-It's for Freedom Wearing lavender? You're bold.Wearing canary yellow? You're radiant.Wearing both? You're either a 1970s soul singer or a man making sure no one mistakes him for "up to something." "Color is how we fight invisibility," says designer Dion James (who may or may not exist). "Because when the world tries to erase you, you wear highlighter-orange pants and remind them they can't look away." The Chain Reaction: Gold Means Goals, But Also Gets Glares Chains are loaded-literally and metaphorically. A gold chain can signal entrepreneurship, athletic prowess, or artistic achievement. It can also, to the wrong viewer, signal "criminal." This duality is known as the Ice Paradox: when the same accessory gets Jay-Z praise or TSA scrutiny depending on who's wearing it. "Every time I wear my grill," said fashion blogger Theo Mack, "my dentist nods and security frisks me." The Pocket Square's Quiet Revolution The pocket square: a scrap of fabric that whispers elegance and yells, "I do pay taxes." It's the one item that transforms a man from "unemployed suspect" to "Harvard alumni fundraiser." In the words of (imaginary) stylist Tasha Monet, "A pocket square is the difference between 'Can I help you?' and 'Can I get you a drink?'" Tailoring Identity: Every Stitch is Resistance Custom suits are not vanity-they're utility. They hide not just stomachs but stories. They're stitched with pain, pressed with hope, and hemmed in historical resistance. "I wear tailored suits," said civil rights attorney Jalen Brooks, "because courtrooms don't read résumés. They read silhouettes." Fashion as Protest: It's All in the Threads Remember when Colin Kaepernick wore socks with pigs in police hats? That wasn't just an outfit. That was a fashion Molotov cocktail. From James Baldwin's ascots to Kendrick Lamar's minimalist BLM hoodies, every generation of Black men has mastered the art of dressing in resistance. Because when society labels you dangerous, your best defense might just be looking too damn good to shoot.

Black Men, Fashion Says "I Have a Job" - A wide-aspect cartoon illustration in the satirical, detailed style of Al Jaffee. On the Met Gala red carpet, Black male celebrities. (2)

What the Funny People Are Saying

"Black men have turned dressing well into a survival sport. It's like Fashion Week meets The Hunger Games."-Wanda Sykes "If a Black man wears a suit, people think he's going to a wedding, a funeral, or a TED Talk on how not to get shot."-Roy Wood Jr. "White men wear hoodies and get start-up funding. Black men wear hoodies and get followed at Target."-Chris Rock "The only time a Black man is allowed to wear gold chains without judgment is if he's winning an Olympic medal."-Trevor Noah

Black Men, Fashion Says "I Have a Job" - A wide-aspect cartoon illustration in the satirical, detailed style of Al Jaffee. On the Met Gala red carpet, Black male celebrities. (1)

Helpful Content: How to Survive Public Space While Dapper

Tips from the Society of Sartorial Survival: - Always carry a résumé in your jacket pocket, just in case someone accuses you of loitering while fashionable. - Avoid wearing silk after 11 PM unless accompanied by a violinist and legal counsel. - Practice your "I belong here" walk. It's 40% confidence, 60% exhaustion. - If profiled, point to your shoes. "Would a criminal wear suede loafers in this weather, officer?"

🎩 For Black Men, Fashion Has Been a Tool of Saying "I Have a Job" - and a Way of Saying "Don't Judge Me Harshly"

15 Humorous Observations on Black Men's Fashion - The Suit as Armor: For Black men, a tailored suit isn't just fashion-it's a shield against societal prejudices.​ - Dress Codes and Double Standards: While hoodies are high fashion on runways, they're often viewed with suspicion on Black men.​ - The Met Gala's Hidden Message: Black dandyism at the Met Gala isn't just style; it's a statement of resilience and identity.​Vogue+4The Guardian+4AP News+4 - From Zoot Suits to Streetwear: Black men's fashion has always been about more than trends-it's about reclaiming narratives.​ - The "I Have a Job" Ensemble: A crisp shirt and tie can sometimes mean the difference between being seen as professional or suspicious.​ - Fashion as Protest: From the Black Panthers' berets to today's streetwear, clothing has been a form of activism.​National Museum of African American History - The Durag Dilemma: Once criminalized, now celebrated on fashion runways-talk about a 180-degree turn.​ - Sneakers Speak Volumes: A fresh pair of kicks can say, "I'm successful," but also, "Please don't profile me."​ - The Barber Shop Chronicles: Where style decisions are made, and societal issues are debated-all while getting a fade.​ - Colorful Expression: Bright colors and bold patterns aren't just fashion statements; they're declarations of joy and resistance.​ - The Hat Trick: A well-placed hat can elevate an outfit-and sometimes, deflect unwanted attention.​ - Accessorize to Survive: Chains, watches, and rings can signify success, but also attract scrutiny.​ - The Power of the Pocket Square: A small accessory that says, "I pay attention to detail-and I belong here."​ - Tailoring Identity: Custom suits aren't just about fit; they're about fitting into spaces that weren't designed for you.​ - Fashion Forward, History Aware: Every outfit carries the weight of history and the hope for a more inclusive future.​

🧵 Satirical Commentary: Dressing for the Job You Already Have

In a world where clothing can be both a statement and a shield, Black men's fashion has evolved into a complex language of survival and self-expression. Let's unravel this sartorial tapestry with a touch of satire. The "Respect Me" Uniform Imagine needing to don a three-piece suit just to buy groceries without raising eyebrows. For Black men, dressing sharply isn't always about fashion-it's about safety. As one observer noted, "A hoodie on a runway is chic; on me, it's a threat." The Met Gala's Hidden Curriculum This year's Met Gala theme, "Superfine: Tailoring Black Style," isn't just a celebration of fashion-it's a history lesson. From the zoot suits of the 1940s to today's streetwear, Black men's fashion has always been about more than aesthetics; it's been a form of resistance. The Durag's Redemption Arc Once banned in schools and sports leagues, the durag has made a triumphant return on fashion runways. It's the ultimate comeback story: from contraband to couture. Sneakers: The Double-Edged Sword A fresh pair of sneakers can signify success, but also attract unwanted attention. It's a delicate balance between expressing individuality and avoiding profiling. The Barber Shop: More Than Just Haircuts Barber shops have long been sanctuaries for Black men-a place to discuss politics, fashion, and life. It's where style decisions are made, and societal issues are dissected, all while getting a fresh fade. Color Me Bold Bright colors and bold patterns are more than fashion choices; they're declarations of joy and resistance. In a world that often demands conformity, standing out is a revolutionary act. Accessorizing with Caution Chains, watches, and rings can signify success, but also attract scrutiny. It's a tightrope walk between expressing oneself and avoiding stereotypes. The Pocket Square's Power A small accessory, yes, but a powerful one. A pocket square can say, "I pay attention to detail," and "I belong here," all at once. Tailoring Identity Custom suits aren't just about fit; they're about fitting into spaces that weren't designed for you. It's about carving out a place in a world that often tries to exclude. Fashion Forward, History Aware Every outfit carries the weight of history and the hope for a more inclusive future. Black men's fashion isn't just about looking good; it's about making a statement.

🧵 Final Stitch: A Human Collaboration

This satirical piece is the result of a collaboration between two sentient beings-a cowboy and a farmer-who understand the profound impact of fashion on identity and survival. No AI was harmed or blamed in the making of this article. Note: This piece is a satirical exploration of the complex relationship between Black men and fashion. It aims to shed light on the societal pressures and historical contexts that have shaped this dynamic.

Black Men, Fashion Says - A wide-aspect cartoon illustration in the exaggerated, satirical style of Al Jaffee. A line of sharply dressed Black men in flamboyant zoot suits, tai Read the full article

[govindhtech]

Introducing Azure HBv5 & Azure ND GB200 V6 Virtual Machines

Introducing Azure HBv5 Virtual Machines: An Advancement in HPC Memory Bandwidth

The upcoming generation of specially designed virtual machines for HPC Azure At Microsoft Ignite today, Satya Nadella introduced Azure HBv5, the newest CPU-based virtual machine for HPC clients and their applications. The most memory-intensive HPC applications, including computational fluid dynamics, automotive and aerospace simulation, weather modeling, energy research, molecular dynamics, computer-aided engineering, and more, are best suited for this new virtual machine (VM).Image credit to Azure

To overcome the largest HPC constraint, increase memory bandwidth by 8 times. The biggest obstacle to reaching the required levels of workload performance (time to insight) and cost-effectiveness for many HPC customers is memory performance from traditional server designs. Microsoft and AMD have collaborated to create a unique 4th Generation EPYC processor with high bandwidth memory (HBM) to get around this issue. Four of these processors collaborate to provide almost 7 TB/s of memory bandwidth in an Azure HBv5 virtual machine.

For comparison, this is up to 35 times more expensive than a 4–5-year-old HPC server nearing the end of its hardware lifecycle, up to 8 times more expensive than the newest bare-metal and cloud alternatives, and nearly 20 times more expensive than Azure HBv3 and Azure HBv2 (3rd Gen EPYC with 3D V-cache “Milan-X” and 2nd Gen EPYC “Rome”).

HPC advancements and enhancements throughout the technology stack

A notable characteristic of Azure HBv5 is its memory bandwidth, but Microsoft and AMD have co-engineered enhancements across the platform to give users a virtual machine (VM) that is safe, balanced, user-configurable, and incredibly performant for a range of HPC workloads.

Every Azure HBv5 virtual machine will have:

400–450 GB of RAM with 6.9 TB/s of memory bandwidth (STREAM Triad) (HBM3)

Each core can have up to 9 GB of memory (customer configurable).

A maximum of 352 AMD EPYC “Zen4” CPU cores with peak rates of 4 GHz (customizable)

Infinity Fabric bandwidth between CPUs is doubled compared to other AMD EPYC server platforms.

Single-tenant only architecture with SMT disabled (1 VM per server)

200 Gb/s per CPU SoC, balanced with 800 Gb/s of NVIDIA Quantum-2 InfiniBand.

Scaling MPI applications to hundreds of thousands of CPU cores with HBM power is possible with Azure VMSS Flex.

Azure Accelerated Networking @ 160 Gbps with a second-generation Azure Boost NIC

Up to 50 GB/s read and 30 GB/s write bandwidth can be achieved with a 14 TB local NVMe SSD.

Register for the Azure HBv5 Virtual Machine Preview

The Azure HBv5 Preview, which will launch in the first half of 2025, is now available for registration. See Azure HBv5 and other Azure supercomputing solutions at Microsoft Azure booth #1905 at Supercomputing 2024 in Atlanta, Georgia, November 19–22. You can also speak with professionals about how this virtual machine may help your HPC workloads.

NVIDIA Blackwell is used by Microsoft to power the upcoming AI supercomputing frontier

Based on the NVIDIA accelerated computing architecture, I am happy to inform that the release of the first cloud private preview of the Azure ND GB200 V6 VM series. The NVIDIA GB200 Grace Blackwell Superchip powers this most recent virtual machine, which has NVIDIA Grace CPUs and NVIDIA Blackwell GPUs with remarkable AI supercomputing capabilities for training cutting-edge frontier models and speeding up generative inferencing.

Microsoft’s custom server with NVIDIA Blackwell, which has two GB200 Grace Blackwell Superchips, is the foundation of the Azure ND GB200 V6 VM series. Each GB200 Superchip uses the NVIDIA NVLink-C2C interface to link a Grace CPU with two powerful Blackwell GPUs. Applications may now access a unified memory space at high speed and coherently thanks to NVLink-C2C, which makes programming easier and supports the high-speed memory requirements of next-generation trillion-parameter large language models (LLMs).

Up to 72 Blackwell GPUs can be used in a single NVLink domain with Microsoft’s ND GB200 V6 virtual machines, which can scale up to 18 compute servers via NVIDIA NVLink Switch trays. These virtual machines may also expand out to tens of thousands of GPUs for previously unheard-of AI supercomputing performance because they are connected via the newest NVIDIA Quantum InfiniBand.

The most recent version of Azure Boost, a specially designed solution that improves the server virtualization stack for increased robustness, manageability, and security, will be installed on any Microsoft server with NVIDIA Blackwell. Azure Boost provides optimal IO performance for both CPU and GPU, supports 200 Gbps network speeds, and speeds up storage performance.

These capabilities offer outstanding value to its clients by improving performance, scalability, and dependability. Commercial businesses can stay ahead of the curve and boost business results by being able to develop and implement advanced AI models more rapidly and effectively. Azure clients can confidently take on their most ambitious AI projects with the remarkable compute power provided by the cutting-edge architecture of the most recent Azure VM series with NVIDIA GB200 Superchips and Microsoft’s optimized AI software stack, whether they are creating intricate neural networks or using pre-existing models with special datasets to make them more business-relevant.

Selected partners will have access to a restricted private preview of Azure ND GB200 V6 virtual machines, enabling co-validation and co-optimization.

Read more on govindhtech.com

[tjnewsnigeria]

Social Media Erupts with Rumors: Is Rich Homie Quan Really Dead? Reports Surface of Rapper Rich Homie Quan's Alleged Death Due to Drug Overdose. Social media has been buzzing with the unconfirmed news that rapper Rich Homie Quan, born Dequantes Devontay Lamar, has reportedly passed away from a drug overdose.   Ejes Gist News reports that the rumors have rapidly spread across various platforms, with Thugger Daily, known for coverage of the Young Thug and YSL trial, being among the first to share the shocking information. According to Thugger Daily, the information came from two “reliable sources.” However, the outlet was quick to clarify that the reports have not been officially confirmed. The Fulton County Medical Examiner's Office, when contacted by FOX 5 Atlanta, stated, "At this time, we cannot confirm or deny any information regarding Dequantes Devontay Lamar." Contrary to the circulating reports, TMZ reached out to Lamar's family, who allegedly confirmed that Rich Homie Quan passed away on Thursday at his home. Rich Homie Quan's Legacy Rich Homie Quan began his rap career in 2011, quickly rising to prominence with his 2013 hit "Type of Way." The track marked his entry into the mainstream, followed by another major success with his 2015 single, "Flex (Ooh, Ooh, Ooh)." Throughout his career, Rich Homie Quan was recognized for his talent, earning nominations for various BET Hip Hop Awards, including Best New Artist and Best Club Banger in 2014 and 2015. He was also nominated for Hip Hop Song of the Year at the iHeartRadio Music Awards in 2016. In addition to his solo career, Rich Homie Quan collaborated frequently with Young Thug, notably on Cash Money Records' "Rich Gang" project. He also worked alongside notable artists such as 2 Chainz and Jacquees, further cementing his place in the hip-hop scene. Personal Struggles and Challenges Rich Homie Quan’s life was not without adversity. Born in Atlanta, he initially pursued a career in baseball while attending Ronald McNair Sr. High School, hoping to go professional. He later enrolled at Fort Valley State University but dropped out due to financial challenges. In 2014, tragedy struck when his father, Corey Lamar, was shot at his barbershop. The shooting was later connected to Kenneth "Lil Woody" Copeland, a former star witness in the Young Thug and YSL RICO trial, who admitted to being involved in the incident. Rich Homie Quan also faced legal troubles. In 2017, he was arrested in Louisville, Georgia, after police found multiple drugs in his vehicle. He was charged with felony drug possession with intent to distribute, though the case was later dismissed, as reported by TMZ. Fans React to the Rumors As the rumors of Rich Homie Quan's alleged death circulate, fans have flooded his most recent Instagram post with messages of condolence. The post, made just two days ago, has since become a space for grieving fans to express their sorrow and disbelief. Despite the widespread social media reactions, there has been no official statement from Rich Homie Quan’s representatives or any verified sources confirming the tragic news. The hip-hop community and fans alike are awaiting further clarification on the matter. For now, the reports remain speculative, and the music world continues to hope for more concrete information regarding the fate of Rich Homie Quan.

[businessemporium]

Office Space Rental Agency

 Address- 56 Perimeter Center East, Suite 150, Atlanta, GA, USA 30346

Phone- +1 678-587-5278

Email- support@bizownemporium.com

Website- http://BizOwnEmporium.com

 The Business Owner's Emporium, located in the heart of Atlanta, features a unique coworking space with podcast room, hybrid webinar event space, photography studio and conference rooms. 7,000 square feet space, which is great for for entrepreneurs, startups, freelancers, and teams to work. Memberships or Daypasses, private offices or flex desks, mailboxes or cowork space. All can all be rented by the hour, day, month or annually. The Business Owner's Emporium is ideal for work-from-home and field-based entrepreneurs or for companies with staff who desire to work independently or collaboratively. Included is free parking, receptionist, internal lobby directory listing and personalized suite number, which makes The Business Owner's Emporium the premiere option for your business to be recognized by the US Post Office, Geographic Information System (GIS System), Google, Bing, etc. for credit-building, funding and location verification.

  Business Hours- Mon - Fri: 10AM - 6PM.

Payment Methods- Credit Card, Gpay, Apple Pay

Owner Name- Chastity Moore.

  Follow On:

Facebook-         https://www.facebook.com/bizownemporium

Instagram-        https://www.instagram.com/bizownemporium/

Twitter-             https://twitter.com/bizownemporium

YouTube-           https://www.youtube.com/@BizOwnEmporium

[stratuspropertygroup]

Atlanta Flex Spaces

Discover the Dynamic World of Flex Spaces in Atlanta

In the heart of Atlanta, where businesses pulsate with innovation and adaptability to meet the ever-shifting market demands, a revolutionary concept has emerged: Flex Space. This transformative approach to workspace solutions has redefined the landscape for companies seeking agility and versatility. Explore the advantages that flex spaces offer, tailored to meet the diverse needs of modern businesses.

Unveiling Flex Space: A Tailored Solution

Flex space, synonymous with flexible office space or coworking environments, epitomizes dynamism, offering businesses specific office solutions. Unlike conventional office setups, flex spaces offer versatile work environments that seamlessly adapt to specific business requirements. From customizable layouts to scalable options, these spaces boast modern amenities, cutting-edge infrastructure, and a thriving community of professionals—a perfect fit for startups, small enterprises, and corporations alike.

Unlocking the Advantages of a Flex Space

Cost-Effectiveness: Embrace fiscal prudence with a flex space, sidestepping hefty upfront expenses associated with traditional offices. Flex spaces offer solutions that feature all-inclusive pricing models, sparing businesses from long-term lease commitments, furnishing overheads, and maintenance costs.

Flexibility and Scalability: In the dynamic realm of business growth, flexibility is paramount. Flex spaces empower businesses to tailor workspace sizes, lease terms, and amenities to suit evolving needs. Whether expanding operations or streamlining, businesses can seamlessly adjust without the hassle of relocating.

Modern Amenities: Elevate your workspace experience with thoughtfully designed flex spaces. Enjoy high-speed internet, well-appointed conference facilities, rejuvenating break areas, and round-the-clock access—an environment conducive to productivity and professionalism.

Networking Opportunities: Embrace synergy and collaboration within a vibrant community. Flex spaces facilitate cross-industry interactions, fostering a fertile ground for idea exchange, collaboration, and potential partnerships.

Effortless Setup: Say goodbye to tedious setup procedures. Flex space providers offer fully furnished and equipped workspaces ensure a swift transition, allowing businesses to focus on their core operations from day one.

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Additional Services: Flex space providers often offer additional services like mail handling, front desk support, reception services, and IT support. These services relieve businesses of administrative tasks, allowing them to concentrate on core business activities.

Embrace the Future of Work with Flex Space in Atlanta

In Atlanta's competitive business landscape, flex spaces stand as a beacon of innovation, offering agility, cost-effectiveness, and a vibrant community. Whether you're a burgeoning startup or an established enterprise, flex spaces provide the ideal environment to thrive and achieve your goals. Explore the possibilities of a flex space and embark on a journey towards dynamic and inspiring workspaces—your gateway to success in the evolving business landscape. Ready to secure the perfect flex space for your business? Contact Stratus Property Group today to secure a new home for your business!

[icarusfallsforwalls]

Oh NYC Night 2, where do I even begin?

I’ve honestly been pinching myself all day thinking about the fact that not only have I been able to see Louis twice on this tour 😭 but that I got to experience both the high’s too high (NYC N2) and the low’s too low (Atlanta). As @pndnj said to me, I got my redemption show 😭 and omg did it effing redeem 🥲

I’ve already said this, as have countless other people, but Louis & his band are incredible live. Like INCREDIBLE. Louis’ voice? Angelic. Louis’ band? Perfection. Louis' stage presence? Magnetic. Louis' lead guitarist? So hot.

The NYC venue was so pretty! I didn’t take many pictures, but I spent a lot of time looking around at all of the ornate & intricate details.

Not to mention, waiting in line outside of the venue actually faces the Empire State Building, so cool views all around.

For this show I was on the floor in the pit! Something I was actually nervous about and avoided at my first show, but was actually a game changer in NYC?? The pit is the heart of the show. Obviously you can enjoy Louis from everywhere, but you just FEEL every bit of it in the pit and I think Louis pulls from that energy. He had a table set up at the entrance with free water, and an announcement was made before the show started about taking a few steps back to make space and leaving the pit if you weren’t feeling well, so in general it seemed like that situation had improved slightly.

Am I just inserting random pictures? Yes.

For starters (he he) Sun Room is so good live! Their energy is infectious and a great way to warm up the crowd. They also seem so genuinely happy and grateful to have this opportunity and their admiration of Louis is obvious.

Because my mind is a jumble, I’m tired and words are hard for me right now here are a few things:

- Louis coming out to We Made It is iconic and WILL change your life. It is the PERFECT way to start the show. I’ve always always loved that song, but the live performances of it have truly elevated it to new heights and so much of that is due to the drums! @silverfoxlou and I were talking about how much we would love to have a clip of Louis and Steve talking about the conception of that and the process of making it happen.

- Drag Me Down is possibly the loudest and most floor shaking song. Super fun & comes early in the show, so the energy is still very high.

- Don’t Let it Break Your Heart is actually everything to me. It means so much to me and I actually just want to live in the live performance of it. Is it too dramatic to say it healed my soul?

-Two of Us is a gorgeous song in general, sometimes too sad for me to listen to, but gorgeous nonetheless. The live version is so anthemic, so hopeful. 🥲 I have so much respect for Louis for performing this every night. It's a truly beautiful and heartfelt moment every time.

- Always You is a straight up BOP, even more so live with everyone screaming and jumping and dancing. And the guitar on it?? 🤌🏼

- 7 is hot and sexy and sweaty and 💦 SO GOOD

- Fearless is a fucking classic, even more so with the ICONIC guitar solo (marry me Michael 💍)

- Habit is Habit and the crowd loves it

- Copy is SO GOOD live. Even better when the crowd knows the lyrics and screams them with you. Louis FLEXED on this one, you feel it in your bones 🤌🏼

- Defenceless is also SO LOUD. The crowd loves this song too, as they should!!! As SANJU noted earlier, the floor was literally shaking through this one too.

- Beautiful War is beautiful and calming, a welcome little break from the chaos since it seems like a fair amount of the crowd did not know the words. They all held up their torches though!

- Little Black Dress is SO HOT. I’M SORRY. 🥵

- Walls is THE MOMENT. And it’s so special that Louis knows what that line now means to us. Such a special moment between artist and fans. And he not only knows it, but loves it too 🥲

- Only the Brave is absolutely everything you want it to be. Surrounded by love and pride flags and the ultimate feelings of acceptance and support.

- Through The Dark!!! My girl!!! I have to admit I didn’t love it during AFHF but OMG do I love it now. Another very special moment.

- And finally, ladies & gentlemen, gays & they’s, please rise for the bitch that is KMM. Louis is a rockstar, get used to it people. He puts his whole bussy into this song, as does the crowd!

- Also the chicken nugget slkdjflksjd !!! But pls don't throw things at him!!

Overall, the BEST time!! I loved every time he stopped and spoke to the crowd. I just loved hearing his voice. I loved watching him finally have the opportunity to own the stage and put on the show he’s had in him all along. I love to see him happy and smiling and bouncing and glowing and rocking out. I love that he’s finally getting to do this, after so many years of setbacks. I loved looking up to see Oli intently watching Louis and the crowd (yes, I took a picture and yes, he is hot).

It was just the best night. I loved all of it. Tour!Louis is the best Louis 🤌🏼

Nothing shows you have a shit camera like going to a concert does, but here have some pictures ☺️

[duskholland]

this is so completely random and unprompted (sense the sarcasm as the tommy thighs live in my mind rent-free since the first pic of pants-less tom content) but would you please indulge me with a thigh riding blurb with some dom!tom vibes? maybe a bit of praise k*nk in there, too, if that floats your boat? soft!dom!tom...oui. anyways love u + thanks for letting me sin bye <3

his thighs... they’re just something else. i think i was possessed when i wrote this lmao. wc: 2k // 18+ content minors dni!!!!!!

extended warnings ↠ slight dom!tom + praise kink, thigh riding. tom holland’s thighs, because they deserve a warning of their own.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

You’re bored.

Tom’s house out in Atlanta is huge, and when he’s not stowed away in the office doing online press, there’s never normally a dull moment. You usually find some way to entertain yourself, be that pestering your boyfriend for attention or filling your time with work. Just, it’s a Saturday, and you have nothing to do, and Tom’s been away all day.  

After spending the morning catching up with friends and refreshing social media until you have the spinning reload sign flashing behind your eyes, you resort to texting Tom. Down in the office—or the press room, as he’s come to call it—his phone is on silent, so you don’t need to worry about interrupting something. He’s been trading selfies with you all day, providing small snapshots of his socks, his hair, his setup whenever he catches a break. The little teases have only made your yearning worse.

Y/N: when do you finish? Y/N: I’m bored and I miss you :(

You lay back on your bed as you wait on a response, chewing your lip slightly as your hands play with the sheets. Your expression darkens as you look to the side, seeing the throw pillows discarded on the floor and remembering intimate times gone by.

You’ve been in a mood all day, the space between your legs warm. Every time you get bored, your mind wanders, and you’ve been very bored today. The front of your panties feels damp, your body tortured by the memories of last night. It’s a never-ending montage of Tom’s hair brushing your neck, his lips on your breasts, his greedy hands grabbing at your waist. You almost moan as you remember how he’d held you down last night and made love to you until you’d cried, your skin slick with sweat and your mind gone too. He never fails to bring you to the heights of pleasure you’d never thought existed.

Tom: on a break just now if you want to come down Tom: think there’s ten minutes before the next one x

It doesn’t take long for you to get to the office, your feet moving of their own accord. When you open the door, Tom glances back, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

He looks good. Tom is handsome, and you always enjoy looking at him, but with his torso covered in a tight black shirt and blazer and his hair styled in loose waves on the top of his head, he looks incredibly dashing. He flashes you a mischievous smile as he reaches up to pull the AirPods from his ears, his Rolex glinting beneath the bright studio lights that illuminate his setup.

“Afternoon, darling,” he says. He turns in the chair, swinging an arm over the back of it as he watches you enter the room, closing the door behind you. “How are you?”

You bite your lip, shameless eyes skating over his form. Tom stands to greet you, and your eyes widen, falling to his bare legs. “Why are you half-naked?” you ask, the tip of your nose scrunching up as you chuckle. You meet him in the centre of the room, wrapping your arms around his warm torso before pulling him in for a light hug, being mindful of his pressed suit.

“Comfier,” he explains. “Too hot in all of that. Gets fucking boiling in here.” Tom’s hands smooth up to your hair, and he gently coaxes you from his chest, peering down at you with those brown eyes you love so much. “Gimme a kiss, lovie.”

Eager to feel him, you step closer and lean in, finding his lips in an easy kiss. The moment your mouth makes contact with the soft warmth of Tom’s pillowy lips, you feel yourself melt, the heat coming back to your core almost immediately. You reach up and drape your arms around his neck, getting in as close as you can as you part your lips, licking over his lower lip until he takes the bait and easily slips his tongue into your mouth.

Tom grunts when you play with the back of his hair, tugging on his strands as your tongues glide together. His hands are on your waist, and you find yourself moaning into his mouth when he slips his fingers beneath your shirt and lets them roam all over your figure. As he kisses you, his hands shift up your torso, lingering at your breasts and groping them eagerly.

“No bra?” he moans against you. You whimper as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples, making him chuckle. “Fuck, love,” he murmurs, “eager today, aren’t you?”

You pull away from him, panting for breath. “Yeah,” you admit, not even trying to be coy about it. Time is of the essence, and you know exactly what you want. One of Tom’s warm hands skates down your figure, and your abdomen flexes as his fingers trail over your skin, his blunt fingernails lightly tickling your stomach as he travels to your cunt. “Tom,” you say, voice catching. “Please.”

He’s teasing you, eyes on your face as he slides his hand beneath your shorts and teases his fingers over the front of your panties. With a torturously light touch, he rolls his index finger over the front of your slit.

“God,” he murmurs, leaning in to roughly kiss your jaw. “You’re soaked.”

Your eyes threaten to roll back as he rubs you over the cotton, touch light but enough to bring you the smallest amount of pleasure. You grab at his firm bicep, a choked whine travelling up your throat.

“Tom.”

“Mmm? What do you want, darling? You know we don’t have much time.” Tom’s got a dark glint in his eyes, and it only deepens when he finally shifts your panties to the side and lets his fingers envelop your silky folds. You gasp when he dips his index and middle fingers down to your entrance, pushing into the warmth of your arousal before spreading it up to your bud. He’s quick to tease your clit, cooing softly as you struggle to speak. “Use your words, gorgeous girl. I want to give you what you want, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what that is.”

“Fuck me,” you ask, voice catching as he speeds up his circles.

“No time, darling.” Tom frowns when he sees you pout, and with the hand not between your legs, he reaches up to play with your lower lip. After a moment’s contemplation, he slips his fingers into your mouth. You suck them in further, glad for their heavy presence weighing down your tongue and enjoying how their girth muffles your moans. “I have an idea. C’mere.”

Before you have time to complain, Tom has pulled away from you, leaving your aching cunt alone and your mouth empty. He walks to the green sofa in the back of the room and collapses onto it with ease, smirking up at you as he parts his legs. He looks wide and domineering, spread out, awaiting you, with his bare thighs rippling and on display. His muscles are clear and defined, packed tight in firm ridges against his golden skin. Just the sight of him patting one of them with his hand is enough to make you salivate.

“Ride it,” he encourages, beckoning you forth with a smirk. He tilts his watch towards his face, squinting as he stares at the metal. “You have three minutes to cum, or you’ll need to wait. I won’t be finished for another two hours.”

Eyes widening, you move over to him, pausing in front of your boyfriend to push down your shorts and your panties. Tom reaches out for you, his warm palms sinking into the curves of your hips as he helps you into his lap. He sits up against the sofa, reaching down to grab at your shirt as you work on straddling his thigh. You settle over his left leg, a loud moan trembling up your throat as you lower yourself and your slit presses against the firmness of his skin.

“Oh,” you moan, tossing your head back. Tom pulls your shirt over your head, his face dropping down until he’s able to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out as you slowly grind down against his leg, his skin quickly getting coated in the arousal that covers your slit. Each time he nibbles your nipple, he follows up the action with a warm lap of his tongue, and the noises you elicit rise in pitch.

“Pretty girl,” Tom murmurs, leaving your chest and replacing his mouth with a hand. The other goes to your hip, and he helps you swirl your hips a little faster, his eyes almost black. “Look so fucking hot getting off on my leg, darling. So needy.” His accent is prominent as he watches you, smirking. “You’re my needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You fall forwards, panting into his neck as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Tom’s lips kiss the top of your head, grounding you as the pleasure starts to build. There’s an indescribable warmth spreading across your core, stemming from where your clit rubs up against his muscular thigh. The pleasurable burn of the friction makes you whimper.

“Yeah,” you pant, after taking a few moments to muster your breath. You gasp when Tom tenses his leg, his muscular thigh pressing up against you. “Fuck,” you whimper. “Feels so good, Tom. You’re so strong.”

He’s rolling both hands over your hips now, and one of them slips up to trace across your bare back. He holds you tightly to his chest, even as your breathing becomes irregular, continuing to guide your movements as you grow uneven. You can feel your orgasm twisting in the pit of your stomach, feel the temperature of your blood rising as it builds between your legs. With each grind of your wet cunt against his thigh, the pressure builds, every part of you aching for release.

“My darling girl,” Tom murmurs. “Are you going to make a mess all over my leg?” When you release a clouded moan, he chuckles. “I know you are. It’s okay. I can feel you squirming, baby. I know you can’t wait.” He drops his voice, rasping into your ear as you shake in his lap. “Go on, love. Be a good girl and let go. Get my thigh all wet. There you go.”

Your jaw slackens, and his words push you over the edge. You squirm over Tom’s sturdy thigh, glad for his strong hands on your hips as they guide your movements when you get lost in the pleasure. Your moans intersperse with his name, and you collapse against him as your high rolls across you, flooding you with intense, pulsing pleasure.

“There you go,” he murmurs, kissing over the side of your face until you eventually pry yourself away from him. Tom smiles at you, dragging his lips across your cheek to find your lips. It’s a sweeter kiss, and you pour in your gratitude. “Sweet girl.”

Your lips twitch into a smile as you look up at him, appreciating the lines of his handsome face and the adoration that sparkles in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say. “I—”

Both of you startle as a ringing sound cuts through the air, and you turn around to see the computer on the desk lighting up with an incoming call.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom mutters. He kisses you, briefly but with intention, then stumbles to his feet. “How do I look?”

You follow him to your feet, quickly pulling on your clothes before walking to him. “Perfect,” you say, once you’ve adjusted the collar of his suit jacket. You press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good luck, handsome.”

Tom nods, eyes skittering across your form. He shoots you a wink before falling back into the chair, looking over his shoulder at you as you walk towards the door. “Be ready for later,” he calls out. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[coochiequeens]

Dont let men cry “reverse sexism” and bully Williams into making this “inclusive”

FORESTVILLE, Md. (DC News Now) — One of the only women-only gyms in Prince George’s County, Her Flex Fitness, has more to offer in a bigger space.

In any size space, one of owner Samaiyah Williams’ goals is to provide a safe place for women. 

“This allows women to be selfish and in the healthy kind of way to love on their bodies loving themselves mentally, physically, emotionally,” said Williams of the move from Capitol Heights to Forestivlle.

Saturday, dozens of people joined her at the grand opening which featured food, music, games, and more. 

“We have basically twice the amount of space which means we can increase class capacity, unlimited parking, and it’s just a better location. We’re close to D.C.. We’re close to Northern Virginia, and we’re right here in Maryland,” said Williams. “The support has been phenomenal. And I’m just so amazed to see that other people from the community have heard about it and are actually coming to check us out.

Robin Campbell trained with Williams for years.

“Honestly, it’s so great to see Mya walking in her purpose and to see her kind of like, expanding, right. She just is growing the tribe and just growing the safe space for Black women and all women and I love them,” said Campbell. “They are pushing you, telling you can go heavier and things like that. And it helps you get stronger, and this, and so I love that. I love the community here.”

Williams said she feels the approach, as well as the training, itself, is making an impact not only on clients, but on the community, as well.

“We’re going to be everywhere. I mean, I always get so many people that say, ‘Oh, we wish this was in Texas. We wish this was in Atlanta.’ Her Flex Fitness is coming, just give me a little time,” Williams said. 

[beca-mitchell]

i wondered if i could come home (yours is the first face that i saw) (1/1)

Summary: Chloe works in New York. Beca works in LA. The quarantine brings them together virtually. God Bless technology.

Word count: 4,335

Read below or on AO3.

Beca had initially been ridiculously excited about the prospect of staying home. She hated dressing up just to go and sit, spaced out at her laptop.

Now she has free rein to just wear whatever the fuck she wants while spaced out from the comfort of her own home.

A quick glance around however indicates that there isn’t much to call home anyway. When Beca had moved to Los Angeles with nothing more than her laptop, twenty USBs packed with remixes and original music, and a luggage full of clothes, she had pretty much expected this.

This being the whole struggling artist thing. Her father had advised against it, her step-mother had advised against it (not like Beca really was planning on listening), and her mother was—

Well.

Beca would rather not think about it. Of course, she wouldn’t.

But she did—it was all she could think about for those first few weeks in Los Angeles. Those first few months.

When she had first made the move, she had fantasized about her mother kissing in her on her head (a phantom memory if anything) and telling her how proud she was of her for chasing her dreams.

She had imagined her mother’s arm around her shoulder as they made that final descent into LAX.

She had imagined her mother’s proud smile when she had signed the papers for her first real job in the music industry—that breath of fresh air that really cemented in her memory that she had made it. She was there in the city of her dreams. She had moved across the country from Atlanta to Los Angeles.

But eventually, with time, after one let-down after another, Beca’s USB pile grew smaller and thinner and her job became less of a temporary thing and more of a full-time thing to keep her afloat.

Are you still proud of me? She wants to ask.

She can’t quite envision the look on her mother’s face—hell she can’t quite envision the look on her father’s face or even Sheila’s face—if she were to look around her small (but cozy) apartment.

Is this what you wanted for me? Beca wants to ask.

Change just doesn’t seem to come quick enough in a city with plenty of time to spare and too many hungry dreams to fulfil.

 * * * * *

 And then there’s this.

The whole quarantine mess.

It’s a form of change, Beca supposes. Maybe not quite the one she needs at that moment.

*New Notification from Outlook You have a new message

From: Aubrey Posen

CC: Chloe Beale

To: Beca Mitchell

Subject: HR and A&R Documents and Procedure — Microsoft Teams Meeting Request

Beca groans. 

 * * * * *

 Being a producer isn’t bad. It lets Beca flex her creativity from time to time (very, very minimally) and she gets to say she’s worked on interesting musical projects.

Grumbling to herself, Beca settles down in her chair after wrestling with her hair and brush. She figures she looks moderately presentable. She even swapped out her sleep shirt for a non-sleep shirt for the purposes of this video conference.

She has no idea who Chloe Beale and Aubrey Posen are anyway, but she’s already moderately annoyed that they both insist on video conferencing when this quarantine has made evident that literally everything can be done via email.

Beca takes a calming breath. The raise is a good thing. It came at a good time. It’s a good thing to get a raise at a job she hates especially when the alternative would have been to be let go. If she has to deal with HR for the sake of this, she will.

Not like she can do anything else.

The call comes in almost as soon as Beca wheels her chair closer to her desk. She fumbles, picking up her headphones and hitting Accept.

“Hi,” Beca says, waving awkwardly at her screen. “Uh. Wow. Hi.”

Almost immediately, Beca wants to clamp a hand over her mouth. She settles on dropping her hand into her lap and clutching the fabric of her shirt to distract herself from the embarrassment rising in her.

The young woman splashed across her screen is incredibly pretty. Almost intimidatingly so. Striking red hair, loosely draped over her shoulders in comfortable waves. Soft-looking lips pulled into a gentle smile.

And her eyes—Christ, Beca thinks—her eyes are what draw Beca in the most. Startling blue. The clearest of blues that Beca has ever seen.

“Wow?” The woman smiles at Beca. “That’s quite the greeting.”

“Sorry,” Beca mumbles hastily. She ducks her head. “Surprised to still talk to people during all this, I guess,” she lies quickly. She figures saying “you’re hot” wouldn’t be the most appropriate thing to say despite how true it might be.

The red-head quirks an eyebrow at her. “I’m Chloe Beale, nice to meet you Beca Mitchell.”

Beca can’t fight the smile this time. Chloe’s voice is nice. It’s beautiful and melodic. “Hi Chloe. Nice to meet you,” Beca parrots back. “Weren’t there supposed to be like...two of you in this meeting?”

“Oh, yes!” Chloe chirps enthusiastically. “Aubrey will be joining us in just a second—oh there she is,” she says just as Aubrey’s profile image pops into Beca’s screen, cutting the size of Chloe’s face on her screen in half.

“Good morning, Beca.”

“Good morning, Aubre–”

“It’s technically afternoon for us, but anyway.”

Beca clamps her mouth shut, choosing to push her lips into a forced, polite smile. She catches a glimpse of Chloe coughing behind her hand, clearly stifling a laugh of her own.

“Did you want to run through some of the documents and responsibilities, Chloe?”

Chloe clears her throat, professional mask back in place. “Yes, sure. Well, Beca, as a senior producer—”

 * * * * *

 With half-open eyes, Beca drags herself from her bed the short distance to her desk. Foregoing her chair for the moment because she has no intent on actually sitting down yet, Beca opens her laptop and logs in to Outlook and Teams before opening Logic Pro X and GarageBand.

She has been working on some tracks for an up and coming artist as well as overseeing the production on an EP for a new artist signed to a label, so she’s kind of expecting a shitload of emails to start her day off. That can wait for the moment.

When she gets back to her computer, coffee mug in hand, Beca notices a notification marker on her applications.

*New Notification from Teams

Beca frowns. She’s not the usual recipient of messages ever. But when she sees who exactly messaged her, she can’t fight the grin. She puts her coffee down with some reluctance and opens the message fully.

Chloe Beale Hey sleepyhead, you’re finally up Thanks for sending the paperwork back yesterday

Beca Mitchell fyi i am three hours behind you timezones or something as aubrey would say

Chloe Beale Who doesn’t start their day at 6am?

Beca isn’t quite sure what to make of Chloe entirely. She’ll blame the echoing loneliness around her—loneliness being all she feels these days—but she would be lying if she weren’t totally and shallowly attracted to Chloe Beale.

But she barely knows her. In fact, Beca would go as far as to say she doesn’t know Chloe at all. Chloe could just be another faceless entity in the long string of entities in Beca’s life. Just another missed connection.

Beca sips her coffee, blinking blearily at her screen.

Beca Mitchell do you start your day at 6??

Chloe Beale It’s good for you!

Beca Mitchell coffee’s good for you

Chloe Beale i’m more of a tea drinker myself good for the voice

Beca Mitchell singer?

Chloe Beale used to be

Beca arches an eyebrow. She had known, from the sound of Chloe’s voice alone, that she was something special

(And sure, Aubrey had a nice voice too, but it had been used primarily to grate on Beca’s nerves so she’s choosing to look past it.)

Beca Mitchell whats the story there?

Chloe Beale Hmm maybe one day :)

Beca Mitchell all i have are days to spare for you

Beca hits send before she can regret it and immediately winces at how unexpectedly flirtatious it sounds. She moves to type a quick cover-up, but Chloe beats her in sending a message.

Chloe Beale i like the sound of that

Beca’s fingers hover over her keyboard. She can’t bring herself to admit the same thing, even though it’s true.

She does like the sound of that. Almost as much as she had liked the sound of Chloe’s voice.

 * * * * *

 It ends up being so easy to fall into a routine when Beca realizes that she has something to look forward to with each subsequent day.

A routine that perhaps even involves waking up earlier so she can spend more time sending Chloe dumb GIFs and debate the best bagel spreads.

It feels nice.

It feels like something Beca could get used to.

Even if Chloe is incessantly cheerful and ridiculously chipper at any given point of the day. Beca kind of likes it.

It reminds her of sunshine and a much-needed breath of fresh air.

There is the added bonus (or nightmare) of Chloe’s incessant need to abuse the video conference tool.

“Beca, make sure you have those documents signed. A&R needs them as soon as possible.”

“You couldn’t have messaged this to me? Or emailed?”

Chloe grins, blindingly so. Beca doesn’t even try to look away.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Beca tugs at the collar of her shirt (another new shirt) unconsciously before she realizes what she’s doing and drops her hand away. “And you’d know all about fun, would you?”

“Maybe.”

Beca shakes her head, mostly to hide the smile that rises on her face.

“Nice shirt by the way.”

 * * * * *

 Okay, fine.

Even that isn’t something that Beca finds herself annoyed with.

 * * * * *

 Beca bites her lip, hitting SEND before she can stop herself. The email flies away from her, an email detailing a request to video conference with Chloe for some dumb, made-up reason.

Well, no, there’s an actual reason and it’s that Beca wants to hear Chloe’s voice. That’s a good enough reason.

*You have a new Outlook Notification. Chloe Beale has Accepted Your Invitation.

Beca smiles.

 * * * * *

 Chloe Beale I’ve always wanted to visit Los Angeles

Beca Mitchell Come over here then!

Chloe Beale Maybe once this is all over

Beca Mitchell Oh right

Beca Mitchell Well if you ever need a place to stay…

Beca starts to sweat. She thinks about deleting her message, but what good would that do? Chloe has already seen it.

“Fuck,” she mutters aloud and promptly chooses to chicken out.

Beca Mitchell I know a lot of people who’d love to have you and i’ll bring you to all the best spots around town You know, me being an expert and all hahaha

“Fuck why did you say that?” Beca asks herself, resisting the urge to slam her laptop closed. She winces when she notices her unfinished work in the background.

She’s kind of more focused on the little indicator showing that Chloe has seen her message and the subsequent lack of response.

She is unfortunately sorely disappointed by Chloe’s response, despite her own attempts at haphazardly diffusing the situation.

Chloe Beale Sounds awesome!

Right, Beca mulls to herself. There hadn’t been a situation to begin with.

She lets the disappointment carry her through the rest of the day. The disappointing feeling—It is familiar but somehow more striking.

 * * * * *

 The thing about Chloe is that she makes everything easy. She never makes Beca feel bad about asking too many questions and she never makes Beca feel totally lame for taking up her time. She assures Beca that it’s fine—that she doesn’t mind at all. It makes Beca feel like a rockstar for about two seconds before she remembers that it’s Chloe’s literal job to be kind and nice to people she works with.

Right.

They’re technically coworkers. Just that. Nothing more.

And then there’s the whole...is Chloe even attracted to women conundrum. It is nice to think that Chloe is attracted to women—that Chloe would be attracted to her of all people.

It’s just such a big what if question.

(And of course the “we live 3000 miles away” issue. That issue.)

There is a strange underpinning of something else—something that Beca can’t quite place. It sends a swooping sensation through her stomach when she thinks about it. The past month or so of communicating with Chloe was rife with tense, interesting moments that make Beca second-guess herself every time.

Barring the times when she word vomits all over herself, Beca is surprised that she’s maintained a connection with Chloe for this long.

 * * * * *

 The dreams start near the end of the first month of knowing each other.

The awkward part about waking up from a dream about somebody she’s never even met in person is that Beca has no idea how to conduct herself. She barely knows how to do it in-person—conduct herself—let alone doing it online.

She tries to settle on something to occupy her mind while she works through some musical/creative block.

Her fingers type in chloe beale into Google before she can help herself.

“Fuck it,” Beca whispers, hitting enter.

She is surprised by the breadth of hits that Google returns to her. Interesting ones, nonetheless. She learns in short order that Chloe does voice acting on the side. Nothing overtly taxing, but it pleases Beca that Chloe has somewhat of a creative streak. She notes a few well-known animated series and some other gigs here and there.

An old YouTube video catches her attention.

Acapella Finals 2011

Beca can’t stop the grin that stretches across her face when she recognizes Chloe, red hair and all, front and center and singing.

She knew Chloe was a singer at heart.

She pulls up her chat before she can stop herself.

Beca Mitchell *pasted link* I see

Chloe Beale Oh my god!

Beca Mitchell Google knows all

Chloe Beale You were Googling me?

Beca’s smile drops. “Shit, uh—”

Chloe Beale Kidding! i googled you too. Didn’t think you were a taylor swift girl. All those remixes… <3

Beca blushes before she can stop herself. That had been a brief foray of fame—literally five minutes—when Taylor Swift herself had linked to one of Beca’s remixes. Beca hadn’t been savvy enough to capitalize on that in any way, however.

Beca Mitchell oh those... I wish i had more original things to say

Chloe Beale Your music is beautiful, just like you are I mean that in a totally non-weird way of course

Beca isn’t quite sure they’re saying the same things, but maybe they are. Chloe’s unwavering faith in her feels wholly misplaced more often than not.

But it’s nice.

This is nice.

Beca lets a smile consume her.

Beca Mitchell Flattery will get you everywhere

Chloe Beale That’s the hope

Beca Mitchell Back to acapella… i was wondering if i could pick your mind for an idea i had for this track i’m working on

* * * * *

 The transition to Facetime and phone calls as opposed to Teams video conferencing was a fairly recent one. Beca discovered that Chloe is an equally eager texter. Emojis and all.

“Your voice somehow sounds better over FaceTime audio,” Chloe teases.

“I was going to say the same,” Beca replies before she can stop herself. Her heart flutters. “I wasn’t the one in acapella in college, after all.”

“Oh you would have fit right in. I would have whipped you into shape, I’m pretty sure. Or maybe you would have helped us win instead. Being as talented as you are and all.”

“I wish I could have known you then,” Beca says bravely.

“You would have changed my life,” Chloe admits. She says it with a smile, but there is no hint of a joke in Chloe’s tone. “I don’t sing anymore,” she finally says. “Not after that last acapella competition. The one you sent me.”

“Oh, why not? Your voice is…” Beca trails off, struggling to find words. For all the time she spends with music—literally layering vocals and instrumentals—she cannot understand how she cannot find appropriate words to describe how Chloe’s voice makes her feel. “I’m sorry...I’m usually better at this. Why don’t you sing anymore?”

“I had to have surgery for my nodes in my senior year of university. I’ve been too afraid to sing again.”

That breaks Beca’s heart more than anything. “But your voice is okay now,” she says lamely.

“I haven’t really had an opportunity to sing again. Working for B&R Records is the closest I can get to the music industry. Not that I ever thought I’d sing professionally or anything.” Chloe sighs, then her voice softens even more. “I admire you so much for pursuing your dreams, Beca. You’re so much better than you know. I’ve listened to your stuff.”

Beca swallows.

Her heart isn’t fluttering.

It is racing, almost uncontrollably.

 * * * * *

 They talk for hours.

Beca tries not to think about it as she wakes up to her phone pressed against her cheek uncomfortably and the faintest memory of Chloe humming something hauntingly familiar.

“Shit,” she mutters, realizing that her heart has yet to stop thudding with the force of emotions she feels.

 * * * * *

  *Google search history

online dating

quarantine dating

flights to New York

amazon delivery time

online dating in quarantine

relationships in covid-19

online date ideas

 * * * * *

*iMessage Notification

From Chloe Beale install netflix party!

Beca Mitchell Already did! waiting on you...

* * * * *

 Chloe ends up being the person Beca calls when she receives yet another change request for the track she had been working on. She isn’t allowed to move on to another track until this artist is absolutely pleased with the track and Beca understands how contracts works and stuff, but holy shit, she’s had it up to her damn forehead with Pimp Lo and his incessant demands to keep his music trashy (Beca’s professional opinion).

“I want to quit,” Beca declares to Chloe. She knows Chloe is done with work for the day even though Beca has about an hour or so left in her “shift” (she has decided time is a construct and she’s signing out for the day due to creative differences).

“Don’t quit,” Chloe says quickly. “And um...don’t tell me that. Professional responsibility and all.”

She says it with a joking tone, but it still stings ever so slightly for Beca. The reminder that she and Chloe are coworkers and nothing more. She’s sure she’s going to hear even less from Chloe as time goes on and when everything kind of goes back to “normal”.

But she kind of doesn’t want to stop talking to Chloe.

“It’s just annoying,” Beca complains.

“Oh honey, I know,” Chloe sympathizes. Beca warms at the term of endearment.

“Beca, your music is good,” Chloe promises earnestly. “I’ve listened to a lot of music over the past few years I’ve been working here...just promise me you won’t give up, okay?”

Unexpected anger wells up in Beca. She identifies frustration, annoyance, and some measure of pain—all of which have to do largely with this entire situation. Somehow, she manages to tamp it all down and focuses on the sincerity of Chloe’s voice.

“I just don’t want to...have my ideas shot down like this anymore,” she finally murmurs, taking a breath to steady herself.

“I know,” Chloe promises. “It won’t always be like that though.”

“I’ve been out here for a year. Verging on two.”

“I know,” Chloe repeats, sincere understanding in her tone. “And it sucks that Hollywood just eats people up and just...I don’t know. Spits them back out like that. But...you’re special. I know you are.”

Beca shudders with her own attempt to stifle a sob. “And that’s your professional HR opinion?” she asks, trying to make it sound more like a joke so Chloe doesn’t take it badly.

Chloe scoffs, then lets out a giggle. Beca wishes more than anything she could see her face. “Yes, that is absolutely my professional HR opinion and I think you should take it. I don’t come cheap.”

It’s less than what Beca hoped for. She had hoped for something a bit more—something closer to the kind of reassurance Chloe had been giving her over the past little while. This feels like two steps backwards.

“I wish I could see you,” Beca blurts.

Chloe doesn’t say anything for a moment. A moment too long. Beca’s face heats embarrassingly quickly. She is so thankful that she is alone in her apartment.

“I’m sorry,” Beca apologizes. “That was weird. And I didn’t mean to make things weird. I’m not weird, I promise. Maybe a little. But not like that.”

Chloe laughs. “Beca, it’s okay. I know what you meant. Or what you mean.” She laughs again, this time sounding more breathless. “It’s just...I guess it’s just late and we should probably...table this for another day.”

Beca’s heart plummets.

“We don’t have to table anything,” Beca says quickly, stung by the rejection. “Forget I said anything.”

“Beca—”

“Goodnight, Chloe.”

 * * * * *

*iMessage Notification From Chloe Beale Beca, are you okay?

*iMessage Notification From Chloe Beale Call me when you can

 * * * * *

 Beca notices she has a request from HR for a video conference. There are no other details, but she knows it’s from Chloe. Her stomach tenses uncomfortably as she stares at the words on her screen. The conference is set up from about five minutes from now so she has about five minutes to get her shit together.

She hadn’t meant to ignore Chloe, she had just been a bit too absorbed into her work (as a way to avoid Chloe).

But she isn’t mad with the music she’s been making recently. She probably has Chloe to thank for that. For being an inspirational source.

She can do this.

She looks around, taking a deep breath as she takes stock of everything that she has in her apartment. Her eyes land on something by her window and she goes to grab it.

She returns to her computer just in time for the call.

“Hi,” Beca says, blinking into her computer screen. “Hi, Chloe, is everything—”

“You know, radio silence is probably the worst way to woo somebody.”

Beca thinks she might still be asleep. “Sorry?”

Chloe seems to be fighting a smile. “You don’t even know how cute you are, do you?”

“I’m not cute,” Beca says automatically.

“You are. In a hot way.”

“In a hot way,” Beca echoes. She grins. “Are you calling me hot?”

“I saw you checking me out that first day. Obvious even through webcam.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mind. I...never minded. Which is what makes this so hard,” Chloe says, lowering her head a little. She worries her lower lip between her teeth, leaning closer to her camera. “This is so weird and so hard. I didn’t expect to just...fall for somebody while we’re all just trying to figure out how to make things okay again, you know?”

“So…” Beca swallows, wondering if this is the appropriate forum for what she’s sure is about to come out of Chloe’s mouth.

“I like you,” Chloe admits. “I think you’re brave and talented and incredible. And there’s so much we still have to learn about each other, but I have been driving myself crazy thinking about how much I want to kiss you.” Chloe clears her throat and holds up a small pot of pretty, purple flowers. “These are for you. I couldn’t really go to the store to get a fresh bunch. But um. If I could, I would.”

Oh.

“Isn’t this against company policy?” Beca croaks out. She can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. “Like can’t they see everything? Even videos?”

Chloe shrugs. “I don’t care. Not really. Look around, Beca. Nobody really cares anymore. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Beca covers her face with her hand. “This is super embarrassing.”

Chloe giggles. “Oh stop. I’m the one literally holding out flowers to my screen.”

“No, it’s just—” Beca holds up the potted plant she had stolen from her windowsill. “Here. I brought this for you too.”

Chloe gasps. “A cactus? You shouldn’t have.”

There is a brief silence before they dissolve into giggles. It makes Beca feel the most complete and whole that she has in while.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Were we even in a fight?” Beca asks aloud.

“No,” Chloe admits. “I just...thought I scared you off.”

“I think I scared myself off.” Beca crinkles her nose as she frowns. “If that makes sense.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I think it’s the most sensible thing you’ve said so far.”

 * * * * *

 Eventually, the time comes where Beca can go outside again.

Beca knows what it means to have sunshine on her face. There is no shortage of it in Los Angeles.

There is no shortage of palm trees, of warm wind, of endless beach views.

There is no shortage of too many dreams and too little opportunities for those dreams to come true.

But this—the excited yelp Chloe lets out when she pushes off the pillar she had been leaning against and the solid weight of Chloe’s body nestled firmly against her own as her arms loop easily around Beca’s neck—this is so much better than anything Beca could have dreamed for herself.

She can feel her mother’s smile, warm like the gentlest of sunrises against the back of her neck. She can feel the weight of a new pile of USBs in her bag and a fresh outlook on life.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Chloe whispers, her voice real and solid and there.

“Me too,” is all Beca can say.

She kisses Chloe like it’s the first day of the rest of her life.

fin.

[citrinekay]

“If you weren't driving, I'd kiss you senseless," I tell him. He swerves to the side of the road and stops the car abruptly. "Not driving any more.”

Ahh yes, this is a good prompt! Here you go:

In Atlanta, everything thickens. The air. Dread. Sweat. Blood. Tears. The widening gap between them. 

Holden isn’t quite sure where everything went so terribly wrong, but it starts to creep up on him like the shadow of a cloud blocking out the sun. Maybe it started with Kemper and Vacaville, his own numerous shortcomings, or maybe Bill simply got tired of him. Maybe he was never anything more than a distraction, something to fill in the loneliness when things with Nancy got rough. Either way, Bill hasn’t touched him in what feels like ages, and it’s starting to feel like he never will again. 

It’s the first week of bridge surveillance, and they’re both exhausted, on edge. By the misfortune of narrow statistics, they’re stuck in a car together for the second night in a row. 

Bill is driving to the bridge with the window down, smoking, and blowing ash into the dead of the night. The air is heavy with humidity, the thick saccharine smell before a summer rainfall. Holden can feel the tacky layer of sweat already forming underneath of his shirt, and he dreads the night ahead, the vacant silences, the unforgiving heat, the heat always between them, the sting of it lingering like an open wound on the soft underside of his jaw. 

“I could have really used your help last week.” Holden says, because he can’t bite it down any longer. “You wouldn’t believe the red tape I was swimming through trying to get the crosses approved.” 

“And you think I could have cut through it any better than you?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Holden says, “People listen to you.” 

“Do they?” Bill’s eyes cuts through the alternating light and shadow of passing streetlamps to pin Holden with a pointed glare. 

“The people who matter.” 

Bill scoffs, quietly. “Since when have you listened to me?” 

Holden bites his lower lip, and smooths the front of his tie. “Are you saying that … that I matter to you?” 

“You’re my partner. Of course you matter to me.” 

“Apparently not enough.” Holden mutters. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Holden says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. His stomach roils - the truth is writhing around somewhere down there, begging to be heard. He wants to vomit it up, onto Bill’s lap, where he couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

Bill exhales a frustrated sigh, “Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I have some shit going on right now. You would understand if you had a family.” 

Holden shakes his head, swallowing back a hasty retort. He wants to say that he doesn’t care about Bill’s family - not in a callous way, just in a way that means Bill doesn’t have to hide whatever he has going on. Nothing could change the way he feels right now, desperate like a junkie looking for his next high, skin itching and singing for Bill’s touch, the only drug he’s ever been addicted to. 

“What?” Bill demands, his palm slapping against the leather of the steering wheel. 

“Nothing. I’m sure whatever it is, it’s important.” Holden says, “Important enough to hide from me.” 

“Don’t make this about you.” 

Holden casts him a glare, but Bill’s expression isn’t angry. He just looks tired. The lines of his face deeper, the blue of his eyes more faded in the shadows, the bow of his lips sad and begging something tender. 

“I’m not. I don’t care. Whatever it is, I don’t care.” Holden says, “If you weren’t driving right now, I’d-”

“You’d what?” 

“I’d kiss you. I’d kiss you senseless.”  

Bill’s eyes flick between Holden and the road ahead for a long moment before his jaw clenches. His fingers flex around the wheel. 

Holden feels the weight of his foot on the brake pedal. There’s a faint squeal of tires as Bill decelerates the car quickly, and pulls off to the side of the road. The car lurches to a stop, and he throws the gearshift into park. 

Leaning back in his seat, he spread his hands. “There. Not driving anymore.” 

Holden stares at him, breathing heavily. He hadn’t expected Bill to call his bluff. He hadn’t expected this opportunity to rise out of the terror of the city at night. 

He lunges across the car before he can stop himself, and lands against Bill’s chest with a grunt. Their mouths collide as Bill leans in to catch him, and Holden feels the pinch of his teeth just before their lips settle into a hungry, aching stroke against one another. 

Holden fumbles to unbuckle his seatbelt. Bill’s arms wrap around him, dragging him closer as the belt snaps free from Holden’s lap, and hits the car door with a clatter. The weight of his palm surges up Holden’s back to clutch at his nape, claiming a firm grasp as the kiss lengthens into messy stroke of lips and tongue. 

Holden groans into Bill’s mouth. His heart is pounding. His whole body is pounding. Every inch of him suddenly feels sharply, brightly alive again, every spot where Bill’s skin is making contact with his own singing out in pleasure. 

Bill’s other hand grasps his jaw, gently prying their mouths apart. Their foreheads rest against one another as they breathe hard, staring into each others eyes in the cramped, dark space of the car. 

“Fuck. We have work to do.” Bill mumbles, his thumb stroking Holden’s cheek. 

“I know.” Holden whispers, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of Bill’s mouth. “Later?” 

“Mm. Later.” Bill grunts, nodding as his eyelids slip shut against the pulse of arousal. 

He pulls away, and Holden leans back against his seat, hand lingering at the sting on the lower lip. Bill is shifting in his seat, wincing as he pushes the heel of his hand against his crotch. 

Holden bites back a smile. 

Bill carefully shifts the car back into drive, and guides the vehicle onto the road again. The rest of the drive to the bridge is quiet, but this time, the silence isn’t deafening or weighted with dread. Holden slips his hand past the gearshift to rest his palm on Bill’s thigh. Bill doesn’t protest; he just keeps driving until the bridge looms ahead. By then, the night feels young, a ripe peach dribbling with possibility.