#of it Thursday but the fire threw that out the window

[no-fxn-club]

I’ve had such a long last few days and I’m overheated as hell by everything and I want to throw up bc of stuff I’ve seen

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

this is a sequel to this.

The hoodlums and nightlings: @skulld3mort-1fan, @satanicrutialspecialist, @terzatheunderscorerima, @autumnwulf, @jaggedheart11, @froartuck,

Danny is panicking.

Not to say that he isn’t usually in this state of mind, but it has became very clear that he had fucked up as he looked down at the two unconscious vigilantes in his living room.

He had just moved to Gotham for a scholarship.

He can’t go to jail!

Glancing around Danny threw the creep stick behind the sofa.

‘Think Danny think! Fuck who to call? Should I even call?? I can’t lose my scholarship, I’ll have to move back to amity!

“Uuhhh-“

Dragging two unconscious men into his bedroom was not how is Thursday morning would go.

But here he is!

He gently plopped the two on their sides and closed the door.

“Fuck.. fuck.. ah fuck.”

Grabbing his phone, he scrolled through his contacts and pressed call.

“Pick up pick up come on don’t be the first time you sleep in-“

“Yo man what’s up?”

“Hey- Tim! This Danny from film class!”

“Kinda figured man, caller ID and all. Why are you awake anyways you said we would continue our call tomorrow?”

“Yeah.. about that uh this going to sound a bit odd but I’m a transfer so I don’t really know much about Gotham rules and stuff so there might be a code for this or something but-“

“Danny, you’re rambling. Just spit it out and-“

“IMAYHAVETWOOFTHEVIGNETTESONMYBEDPLEASEHELP!”

.

.

“Come again?”

Danny took in another deep breath,

“I was getting a glass of water, and someone broke into my apartment, so I knocked them out. Turns out it was a vigilante. And he was not alone. So now I have two vigilantes in my bed. Please help.”

There was another pause and Danny heard what he thought was a snort through the speaker before Tim cleared his throat.

“Ok, don’t panic, I know a guy. He’ll come over and take them out of your hands. Just need an address.”

~~~~~~~~

There was a tap at his fire escape half an hour later.

Danny unlatched the window to let in Batman and Red Robin.

“Birdy retrieval system; you bag em’ we drag em’. How may we help you?”

Danny scuffed his slippers against his rug with a weary chuckle,

“I am so sorry I-“

Batman gently rested his palm on Danny’s shoulder,

“The two of them were supposed to do surveillance in the area and had the wrong complex. You did nothing wrong; this entire situation is on their fault, and they will be properly dealt with for their actions.”

Before swiftly walking into Danny’s bedroom and slinging Red hood onto his back.

Red Robin for his part was holding back laughter as he shouldered the larger nightwing like nothing.

“Yeah man, it’s not everyday someone gets the jump on one of us let alone two.”

And before he could even begin to comprehend how weird his life was, the four left Danny to his own.

With a shake of his head, Danny grabbed to creep stick and leaned it against his radiator before locking his window once more and headed to bed.

“It’s too early for this..”

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile in the Batcave:

Tim: YOU GOT TAKEN OUT BY A TWINK!!

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #1

CH1. Home Style | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Jim’s Midnight Grill wasn’t the magical place the name made it sound like.

In fact, it was worse at night. Hawkins' only diner sat on the outskirts of town, just before the road that took you out alongside the cornfields. In the height of a sunny day, the water tower cast a shadow over the old building and the gas station next door only had one working pump.

The leather booths were constantly sticky, the table tops grainy with spilled salt, but if you made your visit on a Thursday night after nine, milkshakes were two for one. The back alley was littered with cigarette butts, graffiti on the walls telling you who to call for a good time— and someone called King Steve used Farah Fawcett hairspray? The regulars were permanent fixtures on the bar stools, coffee stains on the counter in front of them, stolen sugar packets in their pockets, frowns on their faces.

The staff didn’t want to be there, the owner refused to replace the flickering lights and the cook had a bad attitude and liked to communicate with heavy sighs and eye rolls. But he made a mean grilled cheese. The walk in freezer was reserved for the pitiful weekly deliveries and breakdowns, a stolen kiss or two. Or three, or four. But no one liked to tackle the clogged sink and god forbid anyone change the TV channel— Mr Creel always had something to say about it.

—————

Honestly, Hawkins wasn’t your first choice when you decided to move to a smaller place. The idea of a big city was all fine and well until you lived a year in Chicago, the dream of a brownstone apartment quickly disappearing when you realised jobs were hard to come by and finding friends was even harder. Living alone wasn’t all that fun, especially when your landlord hinted at sexual favours to justify late payments and he didn’t care to fix the leaking radiator in your bedroom. The nights were never quiet and the city hardly slept, but instead of neon lights and late night bodega runs, you lay awake on the broken spring in your bed and flinched at the sound of backfiring cars and people arguing on the street below.

It was lonely, living somewhere so big and busy and always eating dinner by yourself. So you sold the old car you didn’t really use and cried enough that your landlord eventually gave in and ripped up your lease that still had four months to go. Packing your stuff was an easy enough job, hardly enough belongings to fill the duffel bag you’d dragged with you. You dug into the back of your freezer for the wad of cash your grandma gave you, threw it into the bag and grabbed your greyhound ticket and decided you’d get off the bus when the skyline turned a little more green. When the buildings shrunk, when the smog lifted and when wildflowers sprouted from between the cracks in the sidewalk.

So you rolled into Hawkins before the day broke, way before the sun crept up over the quarry, before the small town came alive. The apartment you’d found was the same tiny size as the one you’d had in Chicago but it was cleaner and the carpet was new. Nothing leaked. Nothing smelled weird. The parking lot was filled with cars and none of them had bullet holes in the side, your trash can wasn’t on fire and god, god, the first neighbour you saw - an elderly woman who was walking with a yorkie on a leash - smiled at you.

She smiled at you.

So despite the lack of twenty four hour stores and pizza parlours, Hawkins was already looking up. There wasn’t much on the Main Street, a library, a tiny bakery run by a couple who offered you a free croissant as a welcome to town gift. There was an outdoor pool with sun bleached bunting across its chain link fence, an arcade next to a video store, a high school that was derelict due to the summer months. The larger houses across from the park were lined with cherry trees, neat lawns with white mailboxes and flowers under the windows and suddenly Hawkins was a million miles away from Chicago and the buzz of traffic and car horns.

The librarian let you print out some resumes the day after you’d settled in, and you found your way around town by asking kind strangers, buying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in exchange for directions out of your neighbourhood. It was easy to stroll along the sidewalk with an iced latte and your headphones around your neck, blue skies above you and the sound of sprinklers in their yards, breathing in air that didn’t smell like diesel. You found a man by a rundown garage, white haired and tired looking, mechanic scrubs tied around his waist as he smoked a cigarette.

You took a deep breath, and then another one, smiling politely - warily - as you approached. The man lifted a brow at you, a little suspicious, but he held the burning stub away from you, smoke billowing in the opposite direction.

“You lost, kid?”

You were. Just a little.

“I’m looking for Jim’s, uh,” you glanced down at the pink flyer that had been pinned on the library's notice board. “Jim’s Midnight Grill? I got told it was out this way, but—”

You looked around, noting that there wasn’t much out this way. The busiest part of Hawkins was behind you, tidy sidewalks giving way to long roads out of town, a lone bus stop by the garage, a farm in the distance across the street. You squinted against the sun and shrugged.

“You wanna keep going for ‘nother mile or so, it’s just before the town sign,” the man pointed further out where the cornfields were overgrown and the sun faded billboard told everyone ‘thanks for visiting Hawkins!’ You weren’t sure the bus ran that far out. “Jim should be there, but if he’s not, jus’ ask for Eddie, he’ll sort you out.”

“Eddie,” you nodded, peering into the distance. You couldn’t see another building, but this man didn’t seem like he was lying. “Right, okay. Just keep to the road?”

The man nodded and he cracked a smile, small but soft. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette and gestured to an old pick up that looked like it had seen better days. “You needin’ a ride?”

The urge to say yes was strong, especially after walking all the way from your apartment as the heat soared. It snuck up on you like a slow roll, going from pleasant to warm to too hot, far too quickly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin underneath your sundress but you shook your head, shyness crawling up the back of your neck. Accepting a ride from a stranger didn’t seem the wisest idea, no matter how kind he seemed.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

The man smiled again, a little bigger this time, crows feet crinkling, the sunlight catching the white of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s alright, kid. Jus’ tell ‘em Wayne sent you, yeah? Follow the road, you’ll see Forest Hills - the trailer park - keep going a lil’ ways and it’s right across the road.”

It turned out Wayne was right.

You kept walking, the heat soaring, the fields on either side of you growing taller but you bit back a smile at the sight of the wildflowers that snuck through the cracks in the concrete. Eventually they gave way to a trailer park, just as Wayne side, a quaint place that hummed with generators and had lines of laundry between each mobile home. Across the road sat a sandy lot, a diner in the middle, a neon sign letting passer-bys know they’d arrived at Jim’s Midnight Grill. Except the ‘r’ was loose, hanging from its wire and buzzing blue and purple.

Cats patrolled along the roadside, going from trailer doorsteps to the back alley of the diner, hoping and waiting for a free meal that they all knew would eventually come. You stopped to pet an orange kitten, a little scruffy looking thing but cute all the same, your CV clutched in one hand as you peered suspiciously at the front of the restaurant. It looked too quiet, like it wasn’t open yet. But there was a black van parked along the side of the building and some steam leaked from a vent on the roof, so you opened the front door.

The bell jingled but the patrons at the dining bar who sat on their stools didn’t move, didn’t turn to look. The place was nearly empty, some people nursing a coffee, some staring blankly at the buzzing television screen that was mounted in the corner. No one stood at the host desk, the menus stacked messily, the phone off the hook. In fact, there wasn’t a server to be seen as you made your way to the counter. You grimaced as you leaned on the surface, elbows sticky, avoiding spilled coffee the best you could. You waited, resume still in your hand, patience on your features.

No one came.

So you rang the bell that was on the bar top for the very purpose of gaining attention, but the man beside you glared at the noise. Still, no one came. The fans overhead squeaked and whirred, the TV fizzed with bad signal and from somewhere behind the open serving hatch, you heard the clatter of pots and pans. You tried to crane your neck to see through the window, steam and smoke billowing from it, the slight shadow of maybe a person moving through it.

The person swore, dropped a skillet and swore again.

You leaned in further, elbows on spilled salt grains and drops of ketchup, trying to gain a better view into the kitchen from the bar top. “Hey, ‘scuse me? Can I— can someone—”

You huffed as the figure moved out of sight, falling back onto the stool that squeaked and the man next to you snorted into his coffee cup. You frowned and took further action, sundress falling back around your thighs as you hopped off the chair and made your way to the side of the counter that lifted up. No one paid you any mind, no one at all, but you still hesitated before ducking under the bar and hovering by the hatch. You could smell garlic and sage and something a little sweet now you were closer, the scents of the kitchen winning over the stale coffee, cigarette smoke and engine oil that clung to the patrons clothes behind you.

You peered into the kitchen, your paperwork still clutched to your chest. It wasn’t much cooler in here than it was outside, the AC unit broken and the fans working overtime to combat the heat. The kitchen seemed empty now, a stovetop still on despite no one to supervise it, flames licking high up the sides of a steel pot, big enough for you to fit both feet in. There was something inside bubbling, foam rising to the top and chopped courgette and red onions sat on the workbench beside it, abandoned. A radio played, staticky and fuzzy, an old sixties tune floating out to mix with the smoke.

“Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of man. So big and so strong, come a little bit closer, I’m all alone.”

“H-hello?” You cleared your throat and braced yourself to speak a little louder. Stronger. Braver. “Hello?”

No one answered. In fact, it seemed like the entire diner was run by ghosts, no waiting staff, hosts or cooks to be seen. Maybe you’d imagined the silhouette in the smoke, maybe the heat was finally getting to you.

“No customers back here, what d’you think you’re doin’?”

You startled, jumping back a little only to knock an elbow into a half filled coffee pot, the brown liquid thankfully lukewarm but it still spilled across the countertop, soaking into stray packets of sugar and scattered napkins.

“Oh, fuck, uh—” you grabbed at whatever dry napkins were left, hurriedly mopping up the spill before it dripped to the floor. Old coffee dotted the red and cream tiles, into the gaps between your sandals. You grimaced and looked up, only half paying attention. “Shit, I’m really sorry, I just— there was no one there and—”

You stopped, swallowing hard, cheeks hot, eyes wide. The person in front of you was half hidden behind the serving hatch, but he was scowling through the window with a ladle in his hand. Big brown eyes, unnervingly expressive and dark hair to match, unruly looking curls that were pulled back with an elastic band in a bun that wouldn’t have passed a health inspection.

A boy, unfairly pretty, and annoyed looking with tattoos peeking out from his chef whites, a black paisley printed bandana knotted around his neck. There was a furrow between his brow, lines etched there so deep that it made you think they were a permanent fixture on his handsome face.

“—no customers behind the cash desk, sweetheart, you look bright enough to understand that.”

Your mouth fell open, a burn creeping across your cheeks. Annoyance settled in your chest but you realised you weren’t quite brave enough to do anything about it. So you lifted your resume and slapped it on the hot steel ledge that separated the kitchen from the coffee bar. “No one’s working,” you tried to explain, gesturing with one hand to the empty diner behind you. “I rang the bell—”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The boy scoffed, raising a tattooed forearm to wipe away the sheer layer of sweat from his brow. “Havin’ a spa day? Shit, no one rings the damn bell, don’t you know that?”

You scrambled for a response, the burn on your face growing hotter, an awful clawing feeling coming across your chest. You swallowed, your throat tight, but you pointed at your CV once more. “I’m here for the job opening. I need to speak to Jim? About the kitchen porter role?”

The stranger laughed, a breathy thing that you didn’t think was supposed to come across as mean as it did, but it stung all the same. You shrunk a little, a hardly seen thing as the boy turned his head to check on whatever was bubbling in the big pot. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t wanna be a dick about it, but uh, I don’t think you’re cut out for the kitchen - sorry.” He turned back to you, a slightly more apologetic look on his face instead of the frown. “You understand, right?”

You were speechless, just for a second. Blinking away the confusion, you made noise of protest as the boy started to move away. Your hand touched his bicep and he swivelled back, scowling once more. You snatched your hand away, glancing at your fingertips as if the ink from his tattoos would have stained them black.

“Sorry— it’s just, I, I need a job.” You swallowed, hoping none of the customers could hear your desperate plea. “I just moved into town and honestly, I’ll take anything, like anything. I’m supposed to talk to Jim— or Eddie?”

The boy seemed to mull over your words for a second or two, a passing of sympathy or something just as kind coming over his features. He sighed and shrugged, turning away to stir the pot before it boiled over and he shouted at you through the smoke and steam. Not meanly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the music, the hissing of the stove, the hum of the freezer. “I dunno where Jim is, sorry.”

You deflated, sliding your stack of papers off of the ledge and back to your chest. You tried not to appear too frustrated as you asked, “what about Eddie? Someone - a guy, at the garage - he told me to ask for Eddie.”

The ladle clanged against the pot, some soup - or maybe stew - spilling out the sides. The boy frowned at the mess, dragging a rag over the spots before he glanced up at you. You tried to smile, tried to tamp down the watery doe eyes you knew you couldn’t help but have on show, but you felt desperate. Leaving Chicago with nothing more than the bag on your back and no plans was suddenly seeming like an awful idea.

“Sorry,” the stranger said again. “I dunno an Eddie.”

—————

Sitting in a sticky leather booth in the corner of Jim’s Midnight Grill for another hour turned out to be worth it.

Just before two o’clock, a man walked in, greeting the same customers who were still nursing their coffees with a muttered ‘hello,’ a familiar thing that everyone grunted back at. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with a moustache and a shaved head that was covered with a battered wide brimmed hat. He looked more cowboy than business owner, checked shirt dirt covered boots and all, but you heard someone call him Jim and you were up and running after him.

Your sneakers stuck to the linoleum tiles, the ‘shtick shtick shtick’ of your soles pattering between the aisles of empty tables until you caught up with the man just before he disappeared into the kitchen. He raised his brows at your sudden appearance at his elbow, wide eyed and hopeful as you clutched the same resume you’d tried to hand the cook, the pieces of paper stained with coffee now.

The man lifted his chin to a small table before you could speak, gesturing to two chairs by the window. You startled, wondering what was happening as he pulled out a seat and pointed at you to sit in the other one.

“You’re new, right?” The man - Jim - fumbled with a packet of cigarettes, most of them crushed and bent, but he found a good one to lift to his lips. He lit it and blew smoke upwards, staining the already yellowing ceiling. “Here, in town?”

You nodded, unsure how he knew that. You guessed that news travelled fast in a place as small as Hawkins, so you decided to elaborate for the sake of talking. “Uh, yeah. From Chicago. I’m inquiring about the, um, the porter job?”

“What’s your name?” Jim leaned forward in his chair and poked gently at your forearms. “You don’t got a lot of scars, you done soft jobs? No kitchen stuff before?”

The AC unit kicked in and rattled a vent above you as you stared at the man, trying to work out what he meant. Stammering, you told him your name and passed over a resume, pointing out your last few jobs, doing your best to try and make them sound more professional than they actually were.

Librarian's assistant.

Barista. For two weeks.

Cashier at a knock off Chuck E. Cheese.

“I guess they’re what you could call, uh,” you squinted Jim, floundering for the word he’d used, “soft jobs. But I’ve got a scar on my knee from pulling a kid out of the ball pit. He’d come straight from little league, he still had his spikes on and there was a considerable amount of blood even th—”

Jim stopped your spiel by jamming a thumb back towards the kitchen hatch. You could still see the boy there, pretty and scowling all the same, a dark curl falling from his hair band to fall over his cheek. You watched him blow it away and flip something in a skillet, the sizzle of it just heard over the music, the bad TV in the corner of the bar.

“You ever worked a kitchen?”

You shook your head, stomach sinking. ‘Fake it til’ you make it,’ failed you once before, and the owner of the coffee shop in Lincoln Park quickly realised you were wasting both your times when she discovered you didn’t know the difference between a mocha and a latte. “No, sir.”

“Our line cook is real particular ‘bout who we put in his kitchen with him,” Jim pointed to the boy, who’d now been joined by someone else. Another male, one with even longer hair, sleek and dark and they seemed to be arguing over blocks of cheese. “Now I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw you in there—”

Dread bubbled in your stomach. If you didn’t manage to land this job, you weren’t sure where else to look. A small town brought on few opportunities, and you’d already exhausted most of the businesses on Main Street. “Sir, please, I—”

“—but there is a waitressing gig available.” Jim frowned as he tried to remember the details. “Full time, forty odd hours if you don’t mind doing lates.”

“Yes!” You blurted out the answer too loud, loud enough for the customers to turn away from the TV screen for a second or two. The boys in the kitchen peered out the hatch, one curious, one annoyed. “Yes, sorry, yes. I’ll take it, thank you.”

Jim nodded and stubbed out the amber end of his cigarette in an ashtray beside the sauce bottles. “Easy enough job, minimum wage, you keep any tips you make.” He listed off each point on his fingers. “You start tomorrow.”

You could only nod back, eager and grateful. “Of course, yeah, sure. Uh— do I need—?”

Jim waved you off, already standing as he lit up another cigarette. “Just come by for eight, Eddie’ll sort you out with a uniform, locker, that kinda stuff.”

You frowned, confused. Looking around the quiet diner, you wondered if there was someone you hadn’t noticed before, but the number of visible staff members remained the same. The two boys in the kitchen, the pretty cool who you’d spoken to back at the stove, tasting its contents with a teaspoon.

“Uh,” you coughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. “I thought— I thought there wasn’t an Eddie who worked here?” You pointed warily to the boy with the messy curls, the black tattoos across his exposed forearms, he was staring at you, like he knew you were talking about him. He was scowling. “He said there wasn’t.”

The noise and heat of the diner and the summer outside didn’t do anything to diminish the embarrassment you felt at Jim’s next words. His gaze followed to where you were pointing and snorted. “Kid, that is Eddie.”

[not-without-my-oreos]

Hey look, it’s me, back with another fic brought you by Being Gay.

Being Gay: Women. All women. Fuck.

Title: Familiar Encounter

Pairing: Cabenson (Olivia Benson x Alex Cabot)

Genre: Uh, Smut. Sorry.

Rating: M

Summary: Olivia and Alex have an arrangement.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. Obviously.

Opener

There’s nothing quite like the feel of someone’s hand running down your body, their lips pressing to your neck, and that little whisper in your ear that makes your entire body shudder with excitement. There’s nothing like a breathless kiss or being pinned to a wall. That overwhelming feeling that washes over, the hand that grasps your throat. It’s all worth it just for that final climax.

Familiar Encounter

Alex: Well, my day has been awful. Want to grab a drink?

Olivia: I gotta work late. What happened?

Alex: Judge threw out the Hammond case. Fin is pissed with me, I just need to relax.

Olivia: Ah, shit, sorry Al. I won't be outta here until ten. Raincheck?

Alex: Sure, I'll see you tomorrow.

Alex sighed and threw her phone down on the coffee table. The blonde settled back on her fabric couch and looked out of the large window it was facing. Her eyes glanced at the New York City skyline, offices still being worked in, and apartments with the slight sign of life on a Thursday night. Alex sighed once more, her eyes feeling heavy from the day, but she wasn't tired. It was barely eight in the evening. Usually, she worked late, but after losing against an opponent she considered extremely inferior to her skill in the courtroom. Maybe she was having an off day? She woke up that morning feeling uneasy about the case, an unusual sensation for the great Alexandra Cabot of the District Attorney's Office. Alex was quite often feared by some defense attorneys. She has made a name for herself in the New York law scene and even intimidated the other prosecutors. It was a lonely life. Aside from scaring away anyone that came into contact, those who didn't fear her were cops and most of them didn't enjoy drinking with her, especially when she lost their case. The only person who gave her any form of friendship beyond the means of what she could do for them was Olivia Benson.

The two hated each other at first, Olivia didn't agree with Alex joining their team ten years ago, but she soon warmed to the new ADA. Alex enjoyed their Friday night ritual, going for a drink, dinner, and whatever else happened after. No one seemed to make her smile quite like Olivia Benson. She enjoyed those moments when she felt like she wasn't just an ADA. She was a friend. During her time in the programme, Alex felt lost being away from Olivia. She wanted nothing more than to pick up her phone and hear her voice but she was trapped in suburban Oklahoma. Oh, the tragedy. She only returned to her old life for a day before being whisked away once more. Away from everyone she knew, away from Olivia. When she was finally allowed to return to her normal life, this time for good, she didn't know how to approach Olivia… so, she didn't. She hid away behind a new job, a new apartment, and a new fiancé she didn't want. She was eventually placed back on sex crimes, not by her own choice. “If anyone can work with those detectives, it’s you.” Jack McCoy’s demands were evident. After Novak was suspended, SVU went through lawyer after, lawyer after lawyer. None of them seemed to stick around long enough to make a small drop in the large ocean those detectives sailed through. The detectives of the Manhattan SVU were different from other precincts. They had pride, courage, and genuine care for the victims. They had a moral need to do what was right and that often conflicted with ADAs who would rather do the bare minimum.

Alex pushed herself up from the couch, she pulled off her black blazer and tossed it on the coffee table before making her way into the adjoining kitchen. Alex wasn’t much of a chef she admitted in open court to setting fire to her kitchen back in the late 90s. Everyone Alex socialised with knew of her rich upbringing in Upstate New York, she was raised on a palate of lobster, steak, and perfectly cooked duck but she couldn’t stomach anything other than Kraft Mac’n’Cheese with butter, Cup Noodles (the good ones from Japan), and whatever takeout menu she could get her starving hands on. Once the Starbucks down the street opened, it was a game changer. Coffee whenever she wanted, and protein boxes she could take to work. Finally, she could improve her diet and step away from carbs, carbs, and more carbs, but the mere thought of kale made her gag. Alex didn’t have a selective palate… nor was she a picky eater, really, she just liked the foods that brought her comfort even if they came in a blue and yellow box.

Alex opened her fridge and pulled out the salad box from yesterday’s dinner.

“If I’m going to have carbs and cheese, I should probably have something green…” She muttered to herself as she walked over to the kitchen counter and placed down the plastic container.

Alex reached for the cupboard in front of her, pulled it open and retrieved one of the many Kraft boxes that sat on the shelf. As Alex opened the box, something hung in the air. The blonde swallowed hard as her breath became shallow. Her ears twitched as her eyes glanced to the left, but before she could turn she was pinned against the counter. A body pressed up against from behind. One arm around her waist, the other around her mouth. Alex’s eyes widened with fear as she panted against the hand. This was her worst nightmare, someone breaking into her apartment and taking control over her and she could do nothing about it. Alex feared the worst as her eyes scattered from left to right, her mind racing with the identity of her attacker. Could it be one of Velez’s followers seeking revenge after seven years? Could it be a disgruntled perp she put away years prior? Alex wanted to scream but she was frozen to the spot. The hand gripped her abdomen tighter and all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut. She could hear her heart racing in her ears as she felt whoever it was lean into her ear.

“Hands on the counter, Cabot.” The familiar softly spoke with a strong demanding tone behind it. A warm puff of breath against her ear and suddenly - everything changed for her.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt those lips trail down her neck. She did as she was instructed. Any fear she had running through her veins was now replaced with a lustful need as a shockwave ran through her body and straight to her core. She could still feel those lips against her neck, her skin reacted with a gentle tingle forcing a moan to escape her lips muffled by the hand. Alex’s breath hitched as those lips planted a gentle kiss against her warm skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Those lips travelled upward, grazing her skin softly until they reached her ear.

“Good girl. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and I’m going to blindfold you. Keep your hands on the counter.” She whispered into her ear. Alex shuddered and nodded.

The hand was removed. She didn’t say anything about talking.

“Jesus, fuck - Liv?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and still looking forward.

“Yeah.” She could hear the smirk on the detective’s lips.

“You could have said something in the text earlier? A little heads up so I didn’t think I was being home invaded.”

“You said you needed to relax… that’s usually the code for ‘fuck me, Liv, please.’”

Alex blushed a deep shade of crimson.

“Now, shut up and don’t break character again.” Olivia pressed herself back up behind the blonde as she dangled a silk scarf over her eyes.

Alex didn’t fight against Olivia as she wrapped the scarf around her eyes and tied it behind her head. She didn’t protest as the brunette’s hands snaked around her waist to the front of her blouse, untucking it from the pencil skirt. Alex fell back into the brunette’s embrace as she felt her lips against her shoulder, moving her hair out of the way so she could plant small kisses on her neck. Alex sighed softly, rolling her neck to the side to give the brunette more room. One hand played with the buttons that held her blouse closed, and the other ran down the side of the blonde’s body. She was in euphoria. Alex’s eyes fluttered closed behind the blindfold as every sense of her body was heightened. The sensation against her neck, she felt every puff of breath in between kisses, every goosebump in the wake of soft kisses, she could smell Olivia’s perfume, and she could hear her pulse as it quickened faster and faster. This was intoxicating.

They enjoyed playing these games, Olivia was always the more dominant one, though Alex didn’t mind all that much. They weren’t a couple, far from it, but they started these games before she was sent off to Witness Protection. They started with drinks every Friday night, just the two of them after everyone else had left. One night, Alex admitted how touch-starved she was, after not being with anyone since law school. Olivia took the opportunity to put forward a suggestion, which the blonde happily obliged. Later that night, Alex experienced one of the best climaxes of her life, all the while sitting on the detective’s face. She can remember gripping the headboard as her mind exploded and her body shook. It was mind blowing. Since that night - it was a weekly arrangement. Friday night. They were always the last two. Light flirting at the bar, followed by waking up together the next morning. After a short period, Alex realised she was slowly falling for the detective but she never told her how she felt. She knew the detective wasn’t the relationship kind of person and the last thing she wanted was for their encounters to end. She stayed quiet, has stayed quiet, all this time.

When she left for Africa, she was sure their encounters would end upon her return. It didn't take long for them to fall back into old habits. Things were easier now Elliot was gone. He wasn't always looking into Olivia's business, they didn't have to be so secretive anymore. Their weekly arrangements became an every other day appearance. Eventually, Alex gave Olivia a key to her apartment so she could just let herself in and she did, often. Whenever Olivia felt the mood, she would let herself into Alex's apartment whether it was for sex or just company. Alex knew she was playing a dangerous game when she let Olivia spend the night and she had to stop herself from telling her how she felt. Those feelings from all those years ago never went away, they just deepened. She wanted to find someone to break the cycle of sex and pining, but no one came close to Olivia. She dated interesting and kind people, some were fellow lawyers, others were doctors, detectives, and even a restaurant owner, but she couldn't get Olivia out of her mind no matter how much she tried. Olivia was the only person she wanted to spend an extended period of time with, she was the only one who could make her laugh, give her a pep-talk that lasted, and the confidence to put the bad guys away. She was falling seven years ago and she was sure she was done falling now.

Olivia's fingers opened Alex's blouse and displayed her torso to the night air. Olivia's lips pressed against the taller woman's shoulder as her fingers travelled over pale skin. Alex's muscles twitched under every touch as she rested her head on Olivia's shoulder softly whimpering. Olivia's hands finally reached Alex's breasts hidden away behind a red lace bra. She smiled against her skin as she kissed the blonde's cheek and cupped her with a gentle massage of her fingers. Alex arched her back to Olivia's fondling. Turning her head to capture the brunette's lips in a passionate kiss. Their first kiss of the night. Somehow the kiss tasted better when she was blindfolded. She could feel the moan from Olivia's lips. The gentle panting escaped her lips, desperate for the brunette not to pull away from their kiss. Olivia's hands squeezed softly. Her fingers grazed over Alex's risen nipple and an immediate response came from the blonde. She moaned again, the rough fabric of the bra and the sensation of Olivia's fingers. She wanted more. She could feel her core getting wetter and wetter, if she didn't have the panties or her tights on, she was sure her arousal would be making a mess on her thighs.

"Liv… please…" She whimpered begging for the release that was building up more and more.

Olivia smirked against her lips as a response, Alex knew she loved hearing her pleas for release. It made the brunette feel more powerful than she already was. Alex felt her skirt loosen as she heard the familiar sound of the zipper on the side fall. Olivia let go of the skirt and let it fall to the floor. Slowly, the brunette rolled Alex's tights down over her hips. Lowering her body along with them. She left a trail of kisses down Alex's back. The blonde moaned once more, every inch of her skin burned with every kiss. The anticipation grew more and more. A hum escaped as Olivia's lips pressed against Alex's left cheek just above her thigh. Alex stepped out of the skirt and let Olivia place the skirt and tights to the side before the brunette returned to where she wanted to be.

She gasped sharply as Olivia’s lips returned to her neck, her hand running down her torso. Alex turned once more to capture the brunette’s lips, even blindfolded, she could easily navigate. This kiss became deeper, and hunger grew, as Alex’s arousal only started to ache more. She wanted to feel the touch of the detective, she longed for the release that was building in her stomach. Finally, she felt Olivia’s fingers graze along the hem of her French panties. Her hips arched towards her hand as it dipped inside the delicate fabric. She broke the kiss only to moan into the dark apartment. She wanted to turn around and pull the brunette into her, feel their bodies together just like every other time they did this, but she was restrained to the countertop and there was nothing she could do about it.

Olivia ran her finger through Alex’s wet folds, the blonde moaned again resting her head back on Olivia’s shoulder. She could feel that familiar tightening in her core as her stomach twitched. She felt like she was already so close and Olivia hadn’t even started yet. Olivia was painfully slow as drew lazy circles around Alex’s bud. Alex hid her face in Olivia’s neck where her breathing became heavier and heavier. Her mind was a haze, muddy thoughts running, senses heightened. Alex groaned again as she felt the brunette’s finger run down her slit towards her opening. She was ready to beg once more, she couldn’t take much more of this playing until those words were whispered into her ear.

“Turn around, Cabot, but keep a hand on the counter.” She whispered to her, she could hear the smirk in her voice.

Alex followed the directions and turned around slowly, still with Olivia’s hand running through her folds. Alex’s hands gripped the counter to keep her steady as she felt the brunette push against her. She moaned at the skin-to-skin contact, she so badly wanted to run her hand down the detective’s chest and over her toned abdomen. She could still feel the fabric of Olivia’s open blouse brushing against her skin as Olivia leaned in and captured her lips. It was like one swift movement between the kiss and slowly slid in two of her fingers. Alex gasped against the brunette as she felt her walls tighten around her fingers welcoming her in further. She felt her knees become weak and her mouth become dry. Olivia’s lips crashed against those of the blonde in a passionate kiss pushing her further against the kitchen counter as she started with a steady rhythm. Lazily moving her fingers in and out of her lover, Alex desperately wanted to touch her but she could only grip the countertop tighter. Hitting that perfect spot, Alex’s back arches into Olivia, she knew she couldn’t hold out as the pressure began to grow more and more.

“Liv, please…” Her little whimpers echoed into the kitchen as their lips brushed, her breath hitched, and her body trembled.

As she felt herself reaching her point of climax, Olivia’s movements slowed. Instead, her lips traced along Alex’s jawline, as her freehand ran up and pulled the knot of the blindfold, letting it drop to the floor. Alex’s eyes fluttered open, darkened blue orbs stared into the pitch-black eyes of the detective. Olivia’s fingers traced along her jawline. A tender gesture, unusual of her lover to do such a thing. She swallowed hard as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes stayed on her lover. Alex pressed her lips against Olivia’s fingers in a gentle kiss as they brushed across the bow of her top lip. Olivia smiled softly. Her eyes looked as if they were sparkling.

“You can touch me…” She whispered.

Alex wasted no time, her hands ran up her arms and then down her torso, over her toned abdomen, and pulled her closer. Olivia once again found that perfect spot, Alex’s eyes rolled back in her head as she dug her nails into Olivia’s torso. She tried to stifle her moan, however, the gentle hum of her voice escaped into the darkened apartment. She was so close and she knew that her time had come when she felt Olivia’s fingers curl inside of her. Alex’s body arched as her climax hit. Wave upon, wave, upon wave, crashed against her with every pulsation from her core. With sharp breaths, her eyes fell closed, and she couldn’t make a sound she held onto Olivia’s waist as her body convulsed. Coming down from her high she rested her head on her lover’s shoulder. Olivia smiled and pressed her lips to her temple as she slowly removed her fingers. Alex whimpered at the loss of contact, thankful the counter was there to support her weak legs.

Alex lifted her head, a lot more relaxed than earlier when she was sitting on her couch flicking through her phone. The long day of disappointment had long since vanished and all that was left was bliss. Alex sighed as she leaned back against the counter and opened her eyes looking into the deep brown orbs of the detective she had fallen for. As their foreheads came to rest, Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia’s shoulders with a warm smile. Everything felt so perfect, warm, and loving. She wanted so much more but she knew Olivia didn’t feel the same way and she wasn’t looking for a relationship. A sense of sadness crept over the lawyer as she tried to push herself away from Olivia and move from the counter, but she was pinned. Sandwiched between Olivia and the countertop.

“Liv… come on…” She mumbled as she tried to push past her again.

Olivia didn’t reply, she merely reached around Alex’s waist and pushed her up onto the countertop so they were at the perfect height to each other. She leaned in and captured her lips in a tender kiss. Alex felt her heart begin to race, this was different from any other kiss they have shared before. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she allowed herself to melt into the kiss and wrap her arms around Olivia’s neck. She leaned back resting her head against the cupboard. Her fingers laced through her long brown hair. The night lights from the streets of New York danced against their skin as they continued to share their loving kiss. Breaking for a moment to catch their breath, their lips merely brushed. Alex felt her heart as it began to swell in her chest. She loved this woman so much and she felt as if she couldn’t tell her. She didn’t want to lose what they had, yet the truth was consuming her. Alex pressed a soft kiss to Olivia’s lips. Her fingers danced along the olive-coloured skin of her cheek. She felt her smile against her lips causing a flutter in her chest.

“Liv…” She whispered.

“Hmm?” The brunette hummed in reply.

“I…” She can’t do it, she can’t change what she has.

At this moment, she has Olivia, she has her in her arms. She’s holding her, gazing into her eyes, but once she says those three words - it’ll end. Olivia will retreat and their meetings will be over. She couldn’t do it, she

“Alex?”

“Sorry, I-”

“Love you.”

Alex’s eyes widened as she leaned back from Olivia. Her eyes scanned the face of the woman in front of her, wondering if her ears truly heard what she said. A smile formed on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes, that’s when she realised what she said was true. Alex pulled Olivia back in for another kiss filled with passion and love, she let her walls crumble around her as she finally found the stability she had always longed for.

[scotianostra]

On September 7th 1736, Captain Porteous was dragged from prison and lynched by an angry mob in Edinburgh.

I love when I can connect posts from previous days, if you remember this Thursdays post on Robert Fergusson birth date, in his poem The Daft Days, he mentions the ‘Black Banditti’ oh and the Aqua Vitae, is of course whisky!

And thou, great god of Aqua Vitae!

Wha sways the empire of this city,

When fou we’re sometimes capernoity,

Be thou prepar’d

To hedge us frae that black banditti,

The City Guard.

Captain John Porteous, was a Scottish soldier and Captain of the Edinburgh City or Town Guard, the old “police” force of auld reekie. The story of the unfortunate Porteous starts in January 1736 when three men, Andrew Wilson, William Hall and George Robertson, were charged with smuggling and attempting to rob Collector of Excise, James Stark at the Pittenween Inn, Fife.

All three men were initially faced with the Grassmarket gallows, though William Hall had his sentence revoked for returning King’s Evidence against his fellow conspirators. Judgment day for Andrew Wilson and George Robertson was set for 14 April. A few days before the execution date Robertson managed to escape his fate, leaving Wilson alone to face the hangman’s noose.

The following is from Edinburgh Poet, Allan Ramsay, (who I also mention on Thursday as Fergussons “muse”) for a first hand account of the events……..“

A true and faithfull account of the Hobleshaw [riot] that happened in Edinburgh, Wednesday, the 14th of Aprile 1736 at the hanging of Wilson, housebreaker.

On the Sunday preceeding viz the 11th, the two condemn’d criminalls Wilson and Robertson were taken as usual by four sogers [soldiers] out of prison to hear their last sermon and were but a few minutes in their station in the Kirk when Wilson who was a very strong fellow took Robertson by the head band of his breeks and threw him out of the seat, held a soger fast in each hand and one of them with his teeth, while Robertson got over and throw the pews, push’d o'er the elder and plate at the door, made his escape throw the Parliament Close down the back staire, got out of the Poteraw [Potterrow] Port before it was shut, the mob making way and assisting him, got friends, money and a swift horse and fairly got off nae mair to be heard of or seen. This made them take a closer care of Wilson who had the best character of them all (til his foly made him seek reprisals at his own hand), which had gaind him so much pity as to raise a report that a great mob would rise on his execution day to relieve him, which noise put our Magistrates on their guard and maybe made some of them unco flayd [unusually afraid] as was evidenced by their inviting in 150 of the Regement that lys [lies] in Cannongate, who were all drawn up in the Lawn Market, while the criminal was conducted to the tree by Captain Porteous and a strong party of the City Guard. All was hush, Psalms sung, prayers put up for a long hour and upwards and the man hang’d with all decency & quietnes. After he was cut down and the guard drawing up to go off, some unlucky boys threw a stone or two at the hangman, which is very common, on which the brutal Porteous (who it seems had ordered his party to load their guns with ball) let drive first himself amongst the inocent mob and commanded his men to folow his example which quickly cleansed the street but left three men, a boy and a woman dead upon the spot, besides several others wounded, some of whom are dead since. After this first fire he took it in his head when half up the Bow to order annother voly & kill’d a taylor in a window three storys high, a young gentleman & a son of Mr Matheson the minister’s and several more were dangerously wounded and all this from no more provocation than what I told you before, the throwing of a stone or two that hurt no body. Believe this to be true, for I was ane eye witness and within a yard or two of being shot as I sat with some gentlemen in a stabler’s window oposite to the Galows. After this the crazy brute march’d with his ragamuffins to the Guard, as if he had done nothing worth noticing but was not long there till the hue and cry rose from them that had lost friends & servants, demanding justice. He was taken before the Councill, where there were aboundance of witnesses to fix the guilt upon him. The uproar of a mob encreased with the loudest din that ever was heard and would have torn him, Council and Guard all in pices [pieces], if the Magistrates had not sent him to the Tolbooth by a strong party and told them he should be tried for his life, which gave them some sattisfaction and sent them quietly home. I could have acted more discreetly had I been in Porteous’s place.”

A total of 9 were reported to have been killed and at least 20 wounded by the City Guard. Porteous was arrested the same afternoon and charged with murder. He was tried at the High Court of Justiciary on 5 July 1736. There was no shortage of enthusiastic witnesses to testify against Porteous’ actions. The jury, no doubt spurred on by the mob gathered outside, did not hesitate in finding him guilty, and he was sentenced to hang on September 8th.

When the news reached London, Prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole managed to secure Porteous a Royal Pardon. Porteous was still being held at the Tolbooth, the history is a bit vague about why, I surmise it may have been for his own safety, as there is mention of the guards being increased at the old gaol leading up to the day in question.

A 4,000 ­strong mob took to the streets of Edinburgh. A total lock­down was ordered by the City Guard and all gates, including the Netherbow Port were closed – shutting out many troops stationed outside of the town. The enraged mob made their way to the prison and set the doors ablaze, Porteous attempted to flee but was eventually grabbed by force and dragged up the Lawnmarket, then down along the West Bow towards the Grassmarket where Andrew Wilson had met his end. Porteous was strung up on a dyer’s pole and brutally lynched until he ceased to move. The government would later declare a reward of £200 for any information of those responsible for Captain Porteous’ murder, but none of those guilty would ever be found.

Sir Walter Scott’s famous novel The Heart of Midlothian written in 1818 would later recall the events in great detail.

If visiting Edinburgh and you find yourself in Greyfriars Kirkyard you can find Captain Porteous’s grave is towards the west wall, once a year the re-enactors of the Town Guard pay “respects” to the man there.

The pics are "The Porteous Mob" by James Drummond, The Porteous Riots, A Scene from the Heart of the Midlothian by James Skene and The Porteous Mob by Stanley Cursiter.

You can find a contemporary account of the Porteous affair here from the excellent Newgate Calendar https://www.exclassics.com/newgate/ng187.htm

[palfriendpatine66]

Thirsty Thursday (?)

Aka your pal has no self restraint. Here’s the intro to the wiggles au - we should really call it something else - for now let’s go with Infinite Happiness

When I meet somebody new I say: How do you do? How do you do? How do you do? When I meet somebody new I say: how do you do? My name is Ben! It’s nice to meet you!

“You lost or trying to make your escape while you still have the chance,” a soft voice drawled from the dark.

Anakin jolted to a stop, arrested by the intriguing sound. He was lost, although suddenly a lot less concerned with that fact. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, watching the final laps of the race he’d much rather be attending on his phone as he made his way to the bathroom before he was subjected to an agonizing two hours of nonstop Infinite Happiness - Live in Concert, his preschool twins most favorite singing group in the whole world. He’d just had to go and buy the concert tickets when Padmé said she hadn’t been able to get a hold of any herself, only thinking of the dual win of being the hero in their eyes and one upping their mother while he was at it, not stopping to consider the astronomical loss that having to sit through the concert would be.

Anakin caught sight of the shadowy figure who’d spoken from where they were tucked into a dark corner. Shining gray blue eyes captured his attention and threw all sense out the window and he said the first thing that came to mind. “I'd rather take a power drill to the temple than have to listen to The Happy Song one more time.”

A look of pure incredulity passed over the stranger’s face. They threw their head back with a laugh that drew Anakin in and had him smiling right along with him.

“Cheers to that mate,” the man said. He raised a flask in Anakin’s direction with a nod and then tipped it to his lips with several long gulps that drew Anakin’s eyes to the bob of his throat. “Only way to get through it.”

He held the flask out to Anakin with a questioning tilt of his head, and Anakin found himself step forward despite himself. “What the hell,” he muttered under his breath and brought it up to his lips without breaking eye contact. His eyes teared up as it burned its way down his throat, warmth blooming and spreading through his chest. A thought stuck in his mind as he handed it back - received with a cocky smirk and tossed back far more gracefully - was that those delectable lips were wrapped around where his had just been.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?”

Gorgeous. “Anakin.”

“Pretty name for a pretty boy.”

Anakin’s cheeks were on fire - and when had it gotten so hot in here? - when he was offered the flask again and drank far more deeply than was wise to hide his face and save himself from having to come up with a response.

What the fuck was happening here? He was a father. He didn’t day drink, for one thing, and not with strangers, for another. Certainly not at children’s concerts. And he hadn’t flirted with anyone since the divorce, let alone ridiculously attractive men wearing eyeliner in dark hallways who looked about ready to eat him alive.

His only excuse for what happened next was he was taken completely and totally by surprise.

Strong, thick fingers wove through his hair and together with the hand that sprawled across his lower back, tugged him forward to waiting lips. They met his own, strong and sure, and parted so that a searching tongue could dart out to lick across his own trembling lower lip, requesting access.

With a gasp Anakin responded enthusiastically, not just granting entry but sucking on the questing tongue that slipped into his mouth like he was starving and intended to swallow him whole. Moaning messily into the increasingly wet kiss, if the sloppy movements could even be called that; they’d already turned into something more, something obscene.

Obscene, Anakin repeated inwardly as his fists twisted into a leather jacket and tight black pants, demanding more and growling with approval when the man’s slighter frame pressed up against his own. Hips that just begged to be grabbed, Anakin only too happy to oblige, ground filthily against his thigh and left little up to the imagination.

[rowenabean]

At the corner of time and space, there is an inn.

Well, sometimes. If you go there today you can find an inn. Tomorrow it might be a ruined and empty husk, and on Thursday you might find the workmen just starting to lay the foundations. If you’re lucky, you can walk a few steps in the right direction and come out on Tuesday to a bustling taproom. If you’re lucky.

There are many stories that grow up around a place like this. This is the innkeeper’s story.

***

The first thing you have to know is that you don’t end up at the inn by chance. Sure, it might seem like it; it seems like just another wayside inn, another step towards your destination, wherever that might be. It’s not.

When Aleia arrived at the Inn, it was a winter’s day, and the rain was blustering around her, threatening to turn to ice. The inn’s windows were warm and inviting, and the fires inside cozy. It was late when the conversation petered out and the various patrons started moving towards their beds. Had Aleia looked out the window on her way, she would have seen autumn leaves blowing under a silver wash of moonlight; so perhaps it is good that she did not.

But wait; let’s backtrack a bit.

Let’s start on the fateful day when Aleia left home.

It was winter. She had a backpack and boots, and very little else, other than what her not-too-large backpack could fit and her shoulders could carry. She left into the bitter rain, turning her head in a vain hope that she would keep her face dry, but it was only a hundred metres in that she gave up and shook her hood off. Let her get wet. It was nothing compared to the alternative, compared to what she’d been living for far too long now.

Her hands were white, her feet soft, her hair bedraggled. Only her chest was dry, and the warmth of her coat barely enough to keep her from freezing, but each step she took warmed her a little, even as it drove her further into the rain.

The first place she came to had no rooms. The second was too expensive. The third, they let her stay in exchange for help in the kitchens, room and board paid for out of her meagre salary. She lasted almost two weeks before she was kicked out onto the street for daring to make a complaint.

The fourth place was a ditch under a hedge.

She left town with the taste of rejection on her tongue; spat out the town with the taste. She’d show them, she thought, although she was vague on what she would show them, or how. Certainly if she ever had the power, no one from that town would be finding shelter under her roof. She spat on the road in symbolism. That night was the first night she slept in a ditch, but not the last. The first was dry, but windy; the second she slept on a bed of pine needles hastily gathered; the third in a heap of heather. On the fourth night it rained. She sought shelter under a thick-leaved conifer, but fat drops plopped through the trees to land on her back, and in any case the ground was riddled with tree roots.

It was that evening that she came to the Inn.

A day earlier, she would have said that she couldn’t afford to stay there. A day earlier again, she would have said she didn’t need one, anyway, she was fine. Today, she stared at it in longing and pulled out her meagre purse, wrapping her coat tighter against the driving rain.

The coins topped into the palm of her hand. Thirteen days’ wages, less room and board. It didn’t add up to much. She counted and recounted, and said fuck it, and walked in. The barmaid looked curiously familiar, but Aleia couldn’t place her, and very shortly gave up trying. Instead, she ordered her meal, and turned her back on the room, crept into the corner, and sat.

***

Aleia put down her mugs and ducked into the kitchen, an inscrutable expression on her face. “Jay, would you spell me for a minute?” she asked, and he threw a mock salute and walked out front. Aleia took over his position stirring onions on the stove, but Raina, who was cook today, had to jolt her more than once as they charred rather than caramelised. The third time it happened, Raina took over the onions herself with a pained look.

“Might be your house, but doesn’t mean you can ruin my food,” she said. “What’s got into you?”

Aleia nodded out the door. “Did you know it would be today? I look so skinny! I wasn’t prepared for this! What am I supposed to do now?”

Raina looked up with sudden interest. “Is that you out there? Oh man! I gotta see baby Aleia!” She was halfway across the room when she remembered the onions. “Don’t you dare stop stirring,” she said.

Aleia called back. “Can you... oh I don’t know. Wait? Give me some time to process this before you go out there? I don’t know what to do!”

Raina came back to the stove. “I’ll give you tonight. But I’m sure as hell seeing her before she leaves. Don’t you remember this?”

Aleia grunted. She wasn’t sure she did, or rather, wasn’t sure her memories were reliable, filtered as they were through who she had been back then. She shied away from the memories that did rise up. It wasn’t a person she particularly wanted to remember, either.

Well. Looked like she had no choice in the matter.

Had she known, back then? She couldn’t really remember when she’d realised, that the House was what it was, the Housekeeper herself. It had mattered – she was sure it had mattered – but it was so long ago. Not yet, she thought, and that was enough for today.

“Come on,” Raina said. “Have your existential crisis and then send me my kitchenhand back. Since you’re doing such a hot shot of it.”

Aleia ran her hands through her hair, then over her whole body since that didn’t seem to be enough. She shook out her clothes, and took off her apron since the stains didn’t seem to be shaking it out, replacing it with another from the stack. She walked resolutely over to the door, but stopped three paces from it and walked equally resolutely towards the back door of the kitchen. Raina grabbed her, spun her around, and said “Enough!”

Aleia let herself be shepherded to the door, only stopping for long enough to take a draught of her long-abandoned cup of tea. She wanted to say that the rest of the evening passed in a blur – she wished it did – but the truth was that everything was a blur, except the single figure at the back of the room. Every interaction, every time she approached that table was fixed permanently in her memory, no matter how much she wished it wasn’t.

“It’s just...” she started, sharing a drink with Jay and Raina after the last of the patrons had gone up to bed. “I just don’t really like her. You know, I don’t think I saw her smile once while I was out there? And she barely acknowledged me when I was serving her, just grunted. I felt like I wasn’t there.”

Jay and Raina exchanged a look, and Jay lost. “Because you were so chatty yourself,” he said. “Every time I came out you were glaring.”

Aleia hadn’t even noticed.

“Look, she’s here now,” Jay continued. “This is our first time living it, but it’s not yours. Just be nice to her, ok?”

***

Aleia woke to a crisp morning. As she walked to the window, an observer watching the outside would have seen the scene changing rapidly; the sun shone on summer-dry grass, spring flowers came and went, and driving rain beat the ground for less than half a second. This was all lost on Aleia, however, who threw open the blinds just as it settled into a winter’s day, an improbably thick blanketing of snow.

The taproom was almost empty when she came down. She had hoped for a bright and early start in the morning, but the snow was at least knee deep, and she shuddered at the thought of heading out into that.

All right. One more day.

***

“I’m a dick!” Aleia said.

Raina went to correct her, but Aleia just kept talking. “I really am, you’re not out there serving me, are you. Believe me when I say you don’t want to. Because I’m a dick.”

She stalked off before Raina could reply.

***

“I can’t believe it’s still winter,” Jay said looking outside. “The house never stays still this long.”

Raina looked up. “Feels like a different winter,” she said. “Not sure which one. I think it’s older, though.”

Jay grunted. “You’ve been here longer than me.”

Aleia walked into the kitchen with a huff. “I can’t do it any more,” she said. “How on earth am I supposed to watch my own face just – smirking like that?”

***

“Another day,” said Shae again, this time to an elderly gentleman who had been stuck there when the snow started to fall.

“Another day,” he replied as he dealt the cards. Both Aleias watched the game, the one from her corner at the back of the room, the other from the bar.

An interval of intense concentration, then they returned to the conversation as the gentleman shuffled the cards to deal a new game.

“Your house doesn’t usually do this.”

Shae nodded. “I think it’s trying to make a point.”

A pause. Then the older Aleia stalked over and took a seat.

“Deal me in?” she said, and gestured to the fireplace. “You joining us?”

***

Another day of snow. Aleia woke up and looked out.

She pulled out her purse again, in the vain hope that it migght have filled up overnight, but it was just as empty as it had been when she lay down to sleep.

Time to head out.

The snow was laying two feet thick when she opened the front door. She shivered, and pulled her coat as closely around herself as she ever could. Shaking her head, she slammed the door behind herself to force herself out. Step by uneven step, she walked out into the storm.

***

“And you’re just gonna let yourself go?” Raina demanded. “As if there’s no connection?”

“I did let myself go!” Aleia protested.

“Hark at yourself! She replied. “You’ve lived here long enough to know it’s not as fixed as that! Go on, make a decision for yourself this time.”

“And what if I decide that I want to let her go?” Aleia demanded.

“As if. Come on, it’s your turn to play your hand.”

***

Aleia walked out into the storm.

***

Aleia walked out into the storm, and found a body in a ditch under a hedge.

***

Aleia walked into the storm, and Aleia walked inside into the warm inn, and Aleia walked in again behind her.

***

At the corner of time and space there is a house.

You can find it, sometimes, if you’re lucky. It might not be there next Tuesday.

If you enter the room and say the right name, a woman will come out, the same woman although today she is young and tomorrow she is old, and sometimes the two will stand there side by side. She will welcome you in, and ask your story. There are many stories that grow up around an inn like this. If you ask for hers, this is what she will tell.

@inklings-challenge

[crucifiedfaerie]

hi!! just wanted to say thank for your service on behalf of the star wars community🫡 your writing is so good! i saw your requests were open and honestly anymore modern/delinquent!kylo content of any kind would be appreciated lol <3 anyways hope you’re having a good day :)

omgggg hi thank you sm <3 lucky for you i am currently working on a part two for nicotine stains !!! im shooting for it to be out by thursday at the latest but knowing me if i have an idea i cant stop until its done so it will most likely be earlier lmao. if you wanna be added to the taglist you can pm me or send another ask that isn't anonymous and i won't post it!

however as a little treat while you wait here are a few more modern/delinquent!kylo hcs my beloved @enviedear and i have come up with:

delinquent!kylo who is constantly taking cute pictures of you. literally doesn't matter what you're doing he just likes looking at you. he keeps a polaroid of you on his dashboard too. he also keeps pictures/love notes/ticket stubs from your dates in the sunglasses compartment and one time you opened it and they all fell out and he was rlly embarrassed about it.

"you weren't supposed to see that."

delinquent!kylo who when you get into fights he cries in his charger to nothing else matters by metallica, i was all over her by salvia palth, my body is a cage by arcade fire, and vindicated by dashboard confessional. he shows up at your window at 3am to apologize. his apologies are always terrible and he never actually says the word sorry, but he means what he says... he's just bad with getting the right words out.

delinquent!kylo whose favorite place to be is his 1969 charger with you in the passenger seat, driving around aimlessly with his hand on your thigh. he likes to play road trippin' by red hot chili peppers because it reminds him of you. he'll softly sing along to the lyrics while stealing glances at you at stoplights.

"'blue you sit so pretty west of the one

sparkes light with yellow icing,

just a mirror for the sun

these smiling eyes are just a mirror for.'"

delinquent!kylo thats childhood best friends with your brother so you all grew up together. your mother has pictures of an 8 yr old kylo helping 5 yr old you reach the kitchen sink and pictures of 12 year old kylo and finn making christmas cookies together. he's had a crush on you since he could remember and he made you a valentines day card when he was in 5th grade but got too nervous to give it to you. he kept it just in case though. he's a devotional lover even if the person he loves isn't aware of it.

delinquent!kylo who looks for you in every girl he dates before the two of you finally got together. one time your parents were out of town so finn threw a basement party. kylo brought his new girl-of-the-week but as she talks to him, he isn't listening. he's watching you across the room dancing with some random guy, wishing that was him.

delinquent!kylo who, when at a different house party, sees you way too drunk and guys getting too handsy so he gets you the hell out of there as fast as possible. he knows you're too drunk to take home to your parents so he takes you to his house. he lets you sleep in his bed and he sleeps on the couch. he doesn't care that he's showing genuine care for you and that you'll pick up on that in the morning. he only cares that you're safe.

delinquent!kylo <3

[mintjamsblog]

I've been revisiting your stargazing posts on here and wanted to know if you'd give us some insight into something you posted in response to a previous ask about Tommy breaking the news to Alfie. You mentioned the "almighty showdown"--what did that look like? And likewise, the moment they both realize that Tommy's not actually going to do anything about it (despite saying otherwise)? <3

Thank you for this ask! Trigger warnings a plenty - it's Tommy/Alfie! (ABO, mpreg, unhealthy attitudes to pretty much everything, mentions of rough sex, violence and possible termination)

It was a Thursday afternoon in late May when Alfie decided to hell with this shit. He’d been uncomfortable all morning, like a knuckle was lodged against his ribs, and every time he sat back for a moment it dug a little bit deeper. (Had nothing to do with his breakfast neither, he won’t have a word said against the cafe on Greenland Street.) He summoned Ishamel with a loud yell, threw his pen across the slew of papers and demanded to be driven, immediately, back to my fuck ugly rural abode. His chair hit the floor with a crash as he stood to leave. He didn’t bother to pick it up, only glanced at the disarray on his desk and roared at Ollie to, “clean up that fucking mess.” 

Being at least 24 hours earlier than scheduled, he weren't surprised, upon his return, to find Tommy’s study empty. He was probably still in his Digbeth office. Or out at some overpriced dinner attempting to prize something valuable or useful from people who were, most likely, neither. Could be visiting Pol, that was another option. Though given the cryptic call she’d made to the bakery earlier, that didn’t seem terribly likely. 

It weren't that Polly’s questions had prompted Alfie’s early departure, they'd merely preceded it — a small but important distinction given he made it a point of principle not to pry into Shelby business. 

This meticulous lack of prying had given him the distinct impression there was trouble in paradise. Or Small Heath. Or wherever the fuck it was they all lived these days in their gaudy rural mansions. Alfie neither knew nor cared (except when they turned up on his doorstep to drink too much and yell at each other). Though both mercifully and suspiciously, they hadn't done so in weeks.

He looked out of the large windows at the final moments of dusk, the dark pink remnants of daylight hugging a horizon of green. He liked to catch the sun’s final blink, the bright flash before the day disappeared beneath the unbroken line of fields. Not that he ever admitted that to Tommy. To Tommy, his presence in Warwickshire was an inconvenient, and frequently lamented, personal sacrifice. 

He wandered back out to the hallway to drop his hat and coat on the stand, dismissing the maid who offered to assist him (as if he hadn't been perfectly capable of removing his own hat and coat, all by his very lonesome, since the age of three and a half). She must be new – most of 'em knew better. 

A warm glow from the parlour drew him across the hall. He was poised to call that new maid back and enquire as to why the fire was lit in an un-fucking-used room, when he stuck his head round the door and spotted a dark head resting on the back of the sofa. Took a moment to clock it was Tommy, and a moment longer to be sure he was sound asleep, tie tugged loose at his throat, shirt tails untucked from his trousers. 

As it happened the maid appeared again, hesitating when she spotted the boss. Bosses. S’pose Alfie counted as one of ‘em now. He waved her in and she crept about, closing the curtains and lighting more lamps before scurrying out like a scared mouse.

Tommy didn’t stir; his hands lay either side of him, palms towards the ceiling. Alfie might’ve been beguiled if this weren’t the third time he'd caught Tommy napping since Easter.  Or retreating to bed after dinner. And not with a glint in his eye neither, but with some weary half-baked excuse about tax inspections and early starts. Not that he didn’t look tired; the flame shadows dancing over his face, accentuated every hollow. Alfie stared at the clock on the mantle: nearly half past eight.

He'd had his suspicions for weeks — like midges hovering nearby, vaguely irritating but eminently ignorable if you swiped at 'em once or twice. Now he'd walked into a cloud of the bastards — too many to bat away. 

The smell in the room weren’t helping — that awful cologne Tommy'd taken to wearing. Claimed Ada had sent it from Boston, all the rage with the Yanks. Too sweet, Alfie’d told him. Same as their fucking gin. And yet Tommy’d continued to douse himself in it, day and fucking night.

There was some other stench besides, above the woodsmoke and the aftershave. Stale and sort of creamy... a lot like the pubs by the docks. He scanned the room, tensing when he spotted the barely touched pint of stout. 

He took his hands out of his pockets, rubbed them the length of his face, smeared a day’s worth of grime into his beard. The carriage clock on the mantle chimed the half-hour. 

It’s not like Alfie was usually one for avoiding difficult topics. Preferred to attack with his horns — head down, plough on, look up when it’s done. Which begged the question, didn’t it, why he’d let this go on so long. Incredulity, mostly. Cowardice, perhaps. All washed down with a healthy slug of good old-fashioned fear. Couldn’t even say it in his head, could he? The word sat on his tongue like a pill he couldn’t swallow. Filled his mouth with bitterness. 

"When the fuck were you gonna tell me?" His voice came out a good deal louder than it had any need to be. He was only standing three feet away, between the sofa and the door.

Tommy opened his eyes. Didn't bother to lift his head off the back of the sofa.

"Evening Alfie."

"Thought you weren't back till tomorrow."

"Only just." Alfie glared at the clock again.

"I asked you a fucking question."

Tommy's eyebrows dipped, formed an expression that were meant, presumably, to convey confusion. As if Alfie were some fucking underling too green or too intimidated to read defiance into the accompanying pout.

"Nothing to bloody tell." 

Alfie spoke with deliberate slowness. Balled his fists at his sides. "How long do you plan on taking me for a complete fucking imbecile?"

"Not taking you for anything, Alfie." Tommy pulled his shoulders forwards, the movement just shy of a shrug.

"No?" Alfie cocked his head. He picked up a marble ashtray from the table beside the sofa. "Still off your smokes I see." He tipped the single stubbed-out cigarette onto the carpet, paltry quantity of ash and all.

Tommy sighed and rubbed his eyes, dug two fingers into each socket and left them there for several seconds, as if he were some hard-pressed housewife who was gonna have to clean that up.

Alfie reached for the glass. "Why the fuck're you drinking stout?" Alfie reached for the glass and held it aloft before pouring it onto the carpet in a long, slow stream that made a rather satisfying noise as it splattered Tommy's shoes.

Tommy looked up at him, eyebrows raised, muscles twitching in his jaw.

Alfie dropped the empty glass and let it bounce on the carpet. "How many fucking weeks?"

"You want me to drink and smoke more?" Tommy plucked his cigarette case from the coffee table and placed one between his lips. "Fourteen," he said, reaching into his pocket for a lighter. "Fifteen, maybe. Thereabouts."

The floor swayed beneath Alfie's feet. How'd it taken him so fucking long to put two and two together—

"Fifteen?" The maths simply didn't add up.

"It doesn't matter," Tommy said, staring at the table.

"Course not. Only a baby innit? Why would it fucking matter?"

Alfie looked over at the fireplace, at the paintings of horses and dogs, the pair of Tiffany lamps, and had the strangest sensation he'd been tipped into some weird dream. Except that in dreams you know where's where and who's who because dream-world rules apply. No-one needs to look familiar for you to be sure who they are; a house you’ve never seen before can stand in for your childhood home. Alfie looked at this room he knew and didn't recognise it. Looked at Tommy, elbows on knees, and couldn't accept him as the man he was bonded to. His dream-rules had been inverted. Nothing made fucking sense.

"February. You was closing that Caterham deal. Stress, you said. I remember.”

Tommy flicked the wheel of his lighter and stared at the little flame. "Stress can mess with me heat—"

"March. You was in Scotland. Edinburgh or Aberdeen—"

"It was business. I had no choice." 

“That’s bollocks and you fucking know it.”

Tommy snapped the lighter shut. "Male omegas aren't likely to carry. I thought it'd" —he made a flailing gesture with the unlit cigarette— "deal with its fucking self."

"Right." Alfie nodded. "How very adult of you. You know the fucking risks."

Tommy got to his feet, flames dancing in his eyes. "Yes, I know the risks. And I will fucking deal with it!"

Alfie’s chest felt tight — his heart a claustrophobic thing, banging to get out. "You're fifteen fucking weeks, Tommy, no one’s gonna touch you.” He almost wished that were true, even as his mind conjured unhelpful images of meat hooks and blood-spattered aprons. Not that the alternative looked much better… his mind couldnt conjure that. “What do we fucking do?" 

"We aren't fucking pregnant!" Tommy hissed the words, a wary glance towards the door where, no doubt, the maids were gathered.

Alfie's hands began to shake with the sort of rage that usually ended with blood up the fucking walls. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath — in through his nose, out through his mouth. Count to twenty-five. "You've made that very fucking clear."

"I’m going to bed." Tommy nodded towards the door. 

“Nah, I ain't finished.” Alfie widened his stance. “What the fuck happened three weeks ago?”

Tommy sighed, attempted a glare. “You’re in my way.”

"February. Stress, you said." Alfie held his thumb in the air. "March,” —he uncurled his forefinger— “you was in Aberdeen. You said." He added his middle finger, watching as Tommy paled. “So that leaves us with Apri. What the fucking fuck was April?”

A crimson tide crept up Tommy’s throat.

"You fucking faked a heat." 

A small part of Alfie was hoping for denial. Any less painful explanation, but Tommy went deathly still, thumb and forefinger paused over his eyes. Was he seeing the same things Alfie was? Replaying them in his mind? They’d been brutal with each other. And Tommy had begged for more.  

"My desire was real,” he said, when he finally dropped his hand. 

“You let me fucking choke you…” Alfie’s stomach contracted violently. To the left of the door was a dining chair propped against the wall; he slumped into it and hung his head in his hands. 

The things they’d done. Used. The marks he’d left on Tommy... 

“You weren’t even in heat.” Alfie’s legs were trembling. His nose dripped onto the floor.  

“I asked for all of it.” 

“Why?” Alfie looked up at him. “You had a baby inside you.”

He’d gone all taut, Tommy. Hands in his pockets, shoulders stiff. “Doesn’t change what I want.” 

Alfie shook his head. “D’you honestly think I’d have done any of that if I’d—”

“No! I don't fucking know—”

“Please, Alfie, harder, Alfie…” He hated the sound of his imitation, hated the spite in his voice. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. The images crashed into his field of vision — desperate, pornographic: Tommy’s mouth slack and bleeding, eyes rolled back in his head… taking and fucking taking it. “All them whores you’ve fucked. Guess you must’ve been taking notes. Make it look good for the punters, eh? Keep’em good and riled.” 

Tommy was breathing hard, chest rising and falling as if he’d run a lap of the grounds. His mouth twitched like he was about to defend himself, but Alfie didn’t want to hear it. He exploded out of his chair, finger poised in accusation.

“What were you fucking hoping? That I’d fuck it out of you?” 

He looked down at Tommy’s waist, tried to imagine a life in there, beneath all them bloody clothes. 

“Would it matter if you had?”

The words forced a pained sound out of Alfie, like he'd taken a kick to the guts. “Guess not,” he managed to say, before he turned and left the room.

[daily-media]

Police arrest 150 as unrest spreads to multiple towns in France after 17-year-old killed by police

The killing of 17-year-old Nael during a traffic check Tuesday, captured on video, shocked the country and stirred up long-simmering tensions between young people and police.

NANTERRE: Protesters angry after police fatally shot a 17-year-old boy set cars and public buildings ablaze in Paris suburbs and unrest spread to some other French cities and towns, despite increased security efforts and the president’s calls for calm.

The killing of 17-year-old Nael during a traffic check Tuesday, captured on video, shocked the country and stirred up long-simmering tensions between young people and police in housing projects and other disadvantaged neighborhoods around France. Authorities have not released Nael’s surname or his family.

Clashes first erupted Tuesday night in and around the Paris suburb of Nanterre, where Nael was killed, and the government deployed 2,000 police to maintain order Wednesday. But violence resumed after dusk.

Police and firefighters struggled to contain protesters and extinguish many blazes through the night that damaged schools, police stations and town halls, or other public buildings, according to a spokesperson for the national police. The national police on Thursday reported fires or skirmishes in multiple cities overnight, from Toulouse in the south to Lille in the north, though the nexus of tensions was Nanterre and other Paris suburbs.

Police arrested 150 people around the country, more than half of them in the Paris region, the spokesperson said. She was not authorized to be publicly named according to police rules.

They did not immediately release the number of injured.

French President Emmanuel Macron held an emergency security meeting Thursday about the violence.

Protesters set ablaze multiple vehicles in Nanterre and shot fireworks and threw stones at police, who fired repeated volleys of tear gas. Flames shot out of three stories of a building, and a blaze was reported at an electrical plant. Fire damaged the town hall of the Paris suburb of L’Ile-Saint-Denis, not far from France’s national stadium and the headquarters of the Paris 2024 Olympics.

The police officer accused of the killing is in custody on suspicion of manslaughter and could face preliminary charges as soon as Thursday, according to the Nanterre prosecutor’s office.

Nael’s mother called for a silent march Thursday in his honor on the square where he was killed.

French activists renewed calls to tackle what they see as systemic police abuse, particularly in neighborhoods like the one where Nael lived, where many residents struggle with poverty and racial or class discrimination. Government officials condemned the killing and sought to distance themselves from the police officer’s actions.

Macron called the killing “inexplicable and inexcusable” and called for calm. “Nothing justifies the death of a young person,” he told reporters in Marseille on Wednesday.

Videos of the shooting shared online show two police officers leaning into the driver-side window of a yellow car before the vehicle pulls away as one officer fires into the window. The videos show the car later crashed into a post nearby.

The driver died at the scene, the prosecutor’s office said.

Bouquets of orange and yellow roses now mark the site of the shooting on Nanterre’s Nelson Mandela Square.

Speaking to Parliament, Prime Minister Elisabeth Borne said, “The shocking images broadcast yesterday show an intervention that appears clearly not to comply with the rules of engagement of our police forces.”

Deadly use of firearms is less common in France than in the United States, though several people have died or sustained injuries at the hands of French police in recent years, prompting demands for more accountability. France also saw protests against racial profiling and other injustice in the wake of George Floyd’s killing by police in Minnesota.

Asked about police abuses, Macron said justice should be allowed to run its course.

A lawyer for Nael’s family, Yassine Bouzrou, told The Associated Press they want the police officer prosecuted for murder instead of manslaughter.

French soccer star Kylian Mbappe, who grew up in the Paris suburb of Bondy, was among many shocked by what happened.

“I hurt for my France,” he tweeted.

[moljh]

Unbelievable / Steve Harrington x Reader

Part 7

fluff, slowburn, flashbacks, etc.  

*trigger warning - mentions of abuse*

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

Edit Status: currently unedited

Thursday, July 4

You were all stranded in the mall, your plan ruined. Searching the car that had been in display inside the mall for the part needed to start the car, you heard the voice in the back of your head get louder. Glancing up at the glass ceiling, you noted the slight movement of the reflection as it shuddered. Mike suddenly shouted for his sister and then the ceiling came crashing down as the enormous creature from your dreams appeared.

You felt someone grabbing you and you were pulled behind the car. Cowering behind the vehicle you felt the ground beneath you move as the monster moved around. Glancing to your left you saw Max, El and Mike hiding a few feet away from you, suddenly you saw them appear and make a dash toward one of the stores. Your heart stopped as they ran over the broken glass and El let out a cry a pain, causing the monster to fling around towards them.

Your head pounded and the voices continued as you tried to slow your fast breathing. You could hear it muttering, searching for El, all it different voices speaking in turns. Just as Lucas made a distraction, the five of you took the opportunity and jumped over the counter and ran towards the corridors behind it.

"Pop the hood!" you shouted as you ran to the car and Jonathan threw the part to you and you attached it. The engine continued to splutter as he tried to start it and then you heard the roar of the familiar engine. Next to you Nancy stood and began firing her gun as Billy sped towards us. You froze as she shot directly at your brother and the headlights got closer and closer, some part of you relieved that she kept missing. Suddenly just at you expected a collision, another car slammed into the side of Billy's, sending it skidding off track. Looking over at who had hit him, you saw Steve and Robin at the wheel of the car.

No time was wasted as you all quickly got into the car that Jonathan had managed to start and you drove away, the monster right behind you. Speeding down the road, you heard the radio begin to go off and suddenly the voice of Dustin and another girl come through. They began to discuss the number that was needed and then without warning... Start singing.

As you all frantically drove down the dark back roads being chased by the foul creature, you shared a confused look with the others in the car at the singing coming from the walkie.

"It's turning around!" Steve suddenly exclaimed "What?" Nancy said, spinning around and looking out the rear window "Maybe we wore it out?" Lucas tried to suggest "I don't think so" Jonathan replied "Hold on" he said before spinning the car around and heading back in the direction it was headed

You'd made it back to the mall, rushing inside you saw the creature once more standing in the centre of the large open space. The others quickly dispersed the fireworks that Lucas had brought with him, but your eyes focussed on the figured down below. Your brother stood there, looming over El who was crumpled onto the tiled floor.

Without giving it a second thought, you ran towards the frozen escalators, and quickly moved down them towards the two. Above you, you heard someone shout something and then an explosion sounded into the air.

Your body suddenly fell as you felt a shock slam into the side of your frame. It sent you to the floor and your felt yourself quiver in anguish at the sensation. Then another hit you, and another and another.

Peeling your eyes open, you saw Billy on the floor mimicking the same movements as yourself. You assumed it must have something to do with your connection to the mind flayer and to Billy. Forcing yourself onto your knees, you crawled your way over to where they were at the edge of the walkway.

Gasping for air, you kept moving. It felt as if you were moving at a snails pace, but soon enough you were in arms reach of the teenage girl.

"El" you uttered and she turned her head towards you and grabbed your outstretched arm.

You pulled her towards you, when suddenly her hand was ripped from your grip and you looked up to see Billy pulling her back away. Forcing yourself to stand, you scrambled over to them as Billy began slamming El into the ground. You knew he was stronger than you, so with all your might, you ran into the side of him, knocking him off El.

You both groaned from the impact and you desperately tried to grab a hold of him. It felt like a childish fight as the two of you fought against each other, trying to restrain the other. You continued to wrestle with him as your body was on fire from the impacts to the monster. Billy threw you to the side and you groaned as you thudded against something hard. He stood back up and marched back over to El, pinning her down against the floor.

You tried to move, tried to tell your body to get back up but you felt so weak. Everything hurt and the pounding in your head didn't help.

"Seven feet" a voice suddenly broke through to you, "you told her the wave was seven feet"

You rolled your head to the side and looked back over to where your brother was. The words seemed to have broken through to him as well as he stood over El, completely frozen.

"You ran to her on the beach" she continued to say "there were seagulls, she wore a hat with a blue ribbon, a long dress; with a blue and red flower and yellow sandals, covered in sand" you could picture the exact day, the image becoming more clear with each word that fell from her lips "She was pretty, she was really pretty and you... You were happy... You both were"

Suddenly the pounding in your head ceased, as if a veil had been lifted your mind cleared. The moment of relief quickly passed however as you saw Billy slowly rise from the floor and stand before the roaring creature.

"Billy" you muttered "Billy no... What are you doing?"

All he did was look back at you with a saddened look in his eyes, a look you knew was truly him. The mind flayer let out a giant cry once again and once of its claws shot out from his mouth. You hadn't anticipated what would happen next. You felt yourself freeze.

Billy threw up his hands and caught the monsters assault. He cried out in pain as it clawed at him and then another arm crashed into his side.

"NO" you felt yourself uncontrollably scream at the sight, you clambered off the ground as more and more of those things stabbed into your brother.

Jumping forward you flung yourself in between him and the monster. Time paused for a second, you didn't remember seeing the final blow coming towards you, you only felt the searing pain moments later. Glancing down you saw the foul arm that had gone straight through your side and then rip back as it pulled back all its arms.

In the distance you heard someone screaming, but you weren't sure who it was. As if it was muffled, you heard more cries and banging around you, but they didn't seem to be fully comprehended. You simply turned back around and saw the limp figure of your brother at your feet.

You fell to the ground at the sight.

"Billy, Billy?" you desperately gasped, grabbing a hold of his shoulders "come on, you're doing to be fine, just say something to me" you could feel tears running down your cheeks but you ignored them "please" you whispered "just say something" "I'm sorry" he managed to get out, blackened blood coating his lips "No, don't say that, this isn't a goodbye, you're going to be ok," you cried out in vein "you have to be" "I'm so sorry y/n" he repeated "I love you ok"

You collapsed into his chest, squeezing his close at you felt the rise and fall of his breathing slow. Gasping for air you couldn't comprehend what was happening, you couldn't stop the fall of tears.

"Billy? Billy? Please, no, no" you heard Max's voice appear behind you but you couldn't pull yourself away from your brothers body.

You wanted to be able to lift yourself up and hold your younger sister in your arms but you couldn't. You knew it's what you should've been able to do but every part of you felt broken. Gasping for air between cries, you clung onto your twins limp body beneath you. You'd never felt so truly alone. He was gone.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that. You couldn't feel the pain in your side, you couldn't feel anything as you lay there. At some point someone picked you up, as much as you tried to fight and object, they hadn't listened and pulled you away from your brother. Your head lulled back as you were carried away, and as you rounded the corner you looked upon Billy for the last time.

What happened next was unclear. You weren't sure who was carrying you, but you knew you were outside from the air. Suddenly you felt your body being laid down onto something firm and then there were many mumbled voiced around you, many hands going over your body. 

You didn't care what was happening, everything felt like a daze. You let your eyes stay shut and gradually you felt you mind drift off into nothingness.

When you woke up the sting of a bright white light met you first. Squinting, you looked around you at the room and realised you were in a hospital. Then it all slowly came back to you, the events of everything and you felt as if your mind was going to explode. That's when you felt the shift next to you and realised someone was pressed up against your side. Glancing down you saw the head of red hair and then the girl that came with it. Max was curled up against you side, squeezed into the tiny hospital bed.

There were no flowers or letters in the room, no other members of support, but your sister was at your side. She was fast asleep and you soon re-joined her, ignoring all that had happened, focussing on the comfort beside you.

Months had passed, it felt like life was beginning to be a bit normal again, though you weren't exactly sure what normal really was. You had tried to just go about life as it had been before, spending as much time as you could at work and the rest either sleeping or stoned. It was strange, you didn't know why you felt so upset at Billy being gone. For years he had treated you like crap, but you had still loved him in a weird way, so now there was just this hole.

You and Max had gotten closer during this period, the absence of your brother and the trauma of that night, bringing you together. The house still felt strangely empty. 

Though you had always hated Billy's constant smoking and roar of his car engine, you for some reason now missed the smell of his cigarettes and the sound of his car.

Your dad was different as well, oddly distant. You hadn't been sure what to expect from him. It wasn't as if he was about to win any father of the year awards, but you also had hoped maybe he'd be upset by it all. You had decided to sell your car as well, choosing to keep Billy's. You had always liked his car and a part of you didn't want to get rid of it.

Amongst it all, a welcomed change was a addition of two new members at your work. Robin and Steve had appeared one day as you were stocking shelves, and you'd shot them a small smile. Since then you'd gotten closer with the two of them and it at least provided some company whilst you worked. 

There wasn't much you could do to make everything seem fine, but you did your best to distract yourself and that had to be enough for now.

[onlygenxhere]

Set Fire to the Rain

This is a little piece of something I've been working on. In the jukebox baby universe - this would be in the college years. I totally forgot it was Thursday and I hate letting a Juke Jeudi go by without a nod.

She was about halfway back to the dorms when it started to rain. She only had about thirty seconds to duck under the awning of a Starbucks before the sky opened up and rain started to pour from the sky in buckets.

Julie could barely see ten feet in front of her as she stood out of the downpour. There was an open gap between the awning and the door or she’d have gone inside. She leaned back against the glass and closed her eyes. She really didn’t have time to just stand here. There was always so much to do.

“Come here often?”

Her eyes flew open at that voice and Luke was standing there beside her. He was leaning against the glass, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He was soaking wet.

“What?” she opened and closed her mouth. “How?”

His smirk turned into a mischievous grin, “Surprise.”

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She didn’t care that he was wet and he was going to get her clothes wet. He was here! He pulled her close and kissed her back just as enthusiastically.

The world disappeared as she lost herself in Luke’s kisses. He was so warm despite being soaking wet she wouldn’t have been surprised if steam was coming off of them as they clutched at each other.

Someone banged on the glass from inside the store and they broke apart to see an angry looking employee waving at them.

Julie bit her lip and turned to Luke trying to suppress a giggle. He was still frowning at the guy in the window so she grabbed his chin and turned his face to hers. The frown morphed into a smile. “Sorry Jules, apparently that dude doesn’t believe in love.”

She giggled noticing the moms with toddlers trying to distract their kids while they shot daggers at her and Luke.  

She took one more look at the angry Starbucks guy standing inside with his hands on his hips and then looked out into the pouring rain and thought, fuck it. She stepped out from under the awning pulling Luke with her and getting soaked to the skin instantly.

“Julie!” he laughed. “What are you doing?”

She laughed continuing to walk backwards down the street pulling him along with her. “I’m saving the children from our debauchery.”

As she walked backwards she tilted her head back to the sky and let the rain slick her hair back. Once they were out of sight of the Starbucks she looked for a less conspicuous place for them to stop and pick up where they’d left off.

Flynn was sick back in their room so if she wanted to keep kissing her boyfriend her options were limited. She spotted a large tree in a green space between a couple shops and pulled him under. It didn’t completely block them from the rain but it was definitely better.

Julie wrapped her arms back around his neck pulling his face down to hers. “Where were we?”

[snowburnlove]

Astronomy ✨

Every Thursday after practice, I had gotten used to having my best friend waiting for me outside the quidditch field. I often wondered how long would it last, being surrounded by so many interesting fellow Ravenclaws I’d assume Eirwen would rather enjoy their company instead of hanging out with me. But there they were again and again, and they wouldn’t complain about me stinking or falling asleep while they tried to help with my charms assignments. This particular afternoon, while we were working on the library, they were looking a bit distracted, so I asked if something was wrong.

“Oh it’s nothing, just thinking of something Amit mentioned last night.” they answered.

Last night… of course, they had been at the astronomy tower as usual, gazing at the stars together. How I wished to be in his place, but there was nothing I could offer Ei instead. Amit had such knowledge it would have them in awe, claiming gasps and looks of wonder. Those I could hardly ever pull from their beautiful icy eyes.

“He told me of these astronomy tables, and how they’re placed all throughout the Highlands. I only saw the one he showed me at the school grounds, but I’m curious to see more!” Eirwen was definitely excited about this, so I indulged them for a moment.

“Do you know where the others are located?” I asked.

“Not exactly… they could be anywhere really, the problem is… No, I would never.”

“Never what? What’s the problem?”

They seemed hesitant, but answered at last “The thing is, they activate only at night. And I’m not built for wandering out in the wild in the dark on my own.”

“Well perhaps you can draw one for me and I can search for them?” I suggested. But they instantly shook their head and patted me on the back.

“You have better things to do. Like your potions homework!” was their final statement, and pulled their quill up to my face. They had already completed the assignment, in perfect handwriting, putting my empty piece of paper to shame.

During dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking of our talk. They really loved gazing at the stars, the whole thing was fascinating to them… how could I compete with star filled skies?

I tried to discreetly peek at the large table behind me, where all the Ravenclaws were dining. And I noticed Amit talking to Ei once more. A fire was burning inside me. It sparked in my chest everytime I saw them together. I should feel happy for my… best friend, to see them fit in so perfectly, to let them fly- that was it!

Right after everyone left to their common rooms, I grabbed my broom, took a quick look at the mirror in my bedroom to check my hair wasn’t a complete mess, and ran back outside.

My first instinct was to check the astronomy tower, so I jumped on my broom and flew all the way up there. But no, there was no one around there. It was a beautiful summer night with a full moon, so it seemed strange to me. Perhaps they were going to bed already? No… Eirwen would either read something first, or gaze at the stars from her own window. So that was my next move.

I flew to the top of the Ravenclaw tower, where I couldn’t really access. So I checked from my broom, trying to find them through the glass. I took some rocks from my pocket, and threw them gently at the glass window, hoping someone would notice. Right before I could throw a third little stone, Eirwen opened the window with a confused expression.

“Rammy? What are you doing here?”

“I thought we could go for a little ride? It’s full moon tonight, meaning…”

“Werewolves?”

“No, silly. We’ll have plenty of light to search for those tables from my broom! I thought you Ravenclaws were smarter…” I sentenced with a smug smile on my face.

“You… you want to help me search for them?” their expression changed to surprise.

“Well, you couldn’t ask for a better person to fly you all over Scotland.” I flew my broom closer to the edge of the terrace, leaving us face to face. “I’ll have your back, as always. What do you say?”

Eirwen blinked and recovered their usual coolness. “Alright but… just a little round and we come back to the castle.”

“We’ll be here before sunrise, I promise.” I said, and scooched a little closer to the tail of my broom, leaving enough space for them to sit in front of me. They carefully sat in their spot, and grabbed firmly to the handle. “Hold tightly” I said, and placed my hands firmly on top of theirs, commanding my broom to lift up and away.

I knew they trusted me, but still tried to make them feel safe as much as I could.

“How are you hanging in there?” I asked, but the look on their face, trying to absorb the wonders of the sky above us, was enough of a good indication.

“This is amazing! The stars look so pretty up here!” their smile made my heart skip a beat, and I felt the need to drive my gaze away before I made them feel weird about it.

“If it’s not too scary for you, I want to show you what flying with the best really feels like…” I said with my usual confident aura.

“The best?” they snorted with a chuckle. And that was enough for me to grab on tighter to the broom under our hands and make us free fall like a roller coaster ride. They screamed from the sudden fall, and bursted out laughing when I pulled us back in time before hitting the lake beneath us. The reflection of the white moon bounced against us, and the water sprinkled our feet as we flew swiftly just above. I took us up up and away in a rush, and made us spin in the air, making sure they were safely tucked under my chest at all times. Their hair was dancing uncontrollably, matching the pale clouds right in front of us. And with a kick of my feet we went right through them, revealing a clear sky with a giant full moon in front of us. I slowed our pace almost to a stop, and got absorbed by the sight before me. The moon was beautiful, yes, but the way the beams of moonlight shined on their eyes… I had to clear my throat before speaking.

“So? Will you still question my flight skills? Or need more convincing?” I asked while I played with one strand of silver hair in my fingers.

When they turned around to face me, our noses touched. But they didn’t even flinch.

“No. I’d rather stay like this…Ramses,”

After hearing them say my name… like that, my heart started pounding harder in my chest. Was it my imagination or they meant it that way? What would happen if I kissed them right there? I did not want to ruin the moment, but I didn’t know what to say… and then I noticed a shiver in their skin.

“You’re cold. Sorry, I took you too high Ei.” I had nothing to offer but my own warmth, so I leaned towards them and pressed my body against their back, resting my chin on their shoulder. Then I took us a bit lower, even if it meant losing that amazing view, I would not have them feel cold or uncomfortable. Fortunately, I could feel their cheek getting warm against mine, so I was doing a good job at that.

“T-thank you. I think we’re getting closer.” they mumbled.

“Closer?”

“To one of the tables”

“Oh, right! The tables…” I had already forgotten them.

“There! I think that’s the one!” they exclaimed seconds later, and pointed towards a stone surface in a cliff. We descended right there, and I let them inspect the thing thoroughly.

“Let’s see… Amit showed me to spin it like this… and this…” they murmured while looking through the telescope. “Merlin! there it is! Ramses, look!”

“What? What should I be seeing here?” I asked, looking at the group of stars.

“It's Cerberus, see?”

“Ohhh… now I see.” I couldn't see anything, but I didn’t want to seem dumb.

“Amit won't believe me when I tell him!”

“Amit these, Amit that… what about the guy who took you up here?” my words left my mouth before I could think them through. But instead of getting mad, they laughed.

“Oh… don’t tell me the great Ramses Bakari is jealous of another boy?” They teased me with a smirk, balancing on the tip of their toes.

“First of all, I am not jealous.” I lied, “...and second, I'm not a boy...” I said, while I grabbed them by the hips and pulled them towards me, “...I'm a man.”

Their fragile hands were resting on my chest, and their icy eyes fixed on mine. I could never decipher what they felt when they looked like a startled deer. We stayed there quietly until I asked: “Did the cat eat your tongue?”

“Tongue…” they repeated quietly. “I mean, alright alright I get it. No need to get all cocky now. But… you're right, you did get me here. And I had an amazing night.”

“Hm.” I replied, and let go of my grip.

“Thank you…” they replied timidly. And my defenses fell to the ground when I saw a faint blush on their pale cheeks. Gods, they were so beautiful…

“Ready to go back to the castle?” I asked, patting their pretty head.

“Yeah, alright… I guess we should.” They answered with a hint of disappointment in their voice.

While we were flying back, I assured them:

“We can do this again any time you want, you know?”

“Really? You don't mind?” 

“Of course not! You say when and I'll be there!”

“Ok then, I take your word.” They sounded less disappointed after that.

As we approached the Ravenclaw terrace again, I descended carefully so they could land safely on their feet. They climbed down with the help of my arms, and turned back to face me with their hand guarded in mine.

“I had an amazing time today, Rammy. I owe you.” They said.

“You owe me nothing silly, you already put up with me everyday.”

“No, I really want to do something for you. Anything.”

“Hmmm be careful what you promise Eirwen.” I teased and smiled mischievously.

“I will think of something. Goodnight, Flamey.”

I lifted the hand I was holding up to my lips, and kissed it.

“Goodnight, Snowy.”

I let go of their hand, and pulled back my broom. I left my little dove safely in their nest, and flew back to my room. But not before spinning around with joy, the joy they left in my heart was bigger than my ego. And I was too full of it. 

My snow angel, if only they knew…

[beardedmrbean]

A woman shot by a man suspected of killing three people in Rotterdam had repeatedly complained about him to the police, her neighbour has told the BBC.

Prosecutors also knew about Fouad L and had warned the hospital where another victim was shot, an email shows.

Fouad L, 32, had shown "psychotic behaviour", the hospital was told.

He was arrested on Thursday after he allegedly shot his neighbour and her daughter as well as a lecturer at the Erasmus Medical Center.

The Dutch authorities have not given any details about a possible motive, but said it was likely the victims were intentionally targeted.

Roy, who lives in the same apartment block, told the BBC the family lived next door to Fouad L and had repeatedly reported him to the police.

"Once he threw a dead rabbit into their garden," the 20-year-old said.

The police would come, Roy added, but "he always had the curtains closed and never opened the door".

"They had so many chances to kick him out. This is social housing, he should have been evicted a long time ago," he said.

The email - sent by the Dutch public prosecution service to the teaching hospital where Fouad L studied - described his previous "worrying behaviour", including him being found "half-naked in the garden on a pile of leaves".

In the message, prosecutors suggested his behaviour could affect whether the hospital would grant him a medical diploma.

The suspected gunman posted the email in a web forum himself and complained about teachers "sabotaging" him.

He described himself as an alcoholic and said he had been fired because he was unable to finish his medical degree.

Prosecutors have confirmed the authenticity of the email, Dutch public broadcaster NOS reports.

Erasmus Medical Center chairman Stefan Sleijfer said in a statement that the prosecutor's warning had been taken seriously.

Fouad L was told to undergo psychological evaluation and was denied a doctor's licence unless a psychologist declared him fit to practise medicine, Mr Sleijfer said.

During a search of his phone at the time of the animal cruelty investigation, prosecutors also found pictures of people being stabbed as well as right-wing extremist images.

Fouad L set fire to the residential building after shooting the woman and her daughter, police said. Emergency services took the daughter, 14, to hospital but she later died from her injuries.

Bouquets of roses and sunflowers have been attached to the black screen placed by police around the crime scene.

Roy said the family was friendly with their other neighbours and often outside talking with them.

"Now a girl I knew since she was tiny is dead. Her twin sister, older sister and little brother have lost their sibling and mother," he said.

Francisca, another neighbour, said her granddaughter had been friends with the victim's twin girls. "It's just so sad. I still can't believe it," she told the BBC.

Police officers were going door to door the day after the attack, searching for evidence.

The windows of the family's flats are entirely blown out and black burn marks around the brickwork suggest the blaze ignited by the gunman had been substantial.

After the first shooting, police say he went to the Erasmus Medical Center and killed a 43-year-old male lecturer.

The hospital named the victim as Jurgen Damen and described him as "a dearly beloved teacher" and "well-known face in the educational world of Rotterdam".

The suspect was arrested outside the Erasmus Medical Center around 15:30 local time (13:30 GMT) in a huge operation that included an elite police unit storming the hospital and helicopters hovering over the building.

Fouad L also started a fire at the hospital, causing significant damage. The hospital says it has cancelled all lectures in the building, but students have been invited to mourn there today.

On Friday morning, staff gathered in a cosy café outside the teaching hospital told the BBC they were frustrated about Rotterdam being characterised as a place in the grip of violence linked to gangs and drug-trafficking.

Dutch Prime Minister Mark Rutte wrote in a post on social media: "My thoughts go out to the victims of the violence, their loved ones and to all the people who have been in great fear."

Rotterdam mayor Ahmed Aboutaleb said the "horrible incident" was a "pitch-black day" for the city.

Fouad L appeared in court for a preliminary hearing on Friday and will be arraigned next week.

[tinytourist]

Livin’ the Lemberos Life

Day 7, Thursday - Bryce & Moab

When we woke up we threw our stuff in the car and headed back to Bryce, straight to the Queen’s/Navajo Combination Loop. It was a nice little morning hike through the canyon and helped us get some steps in before the long drive back to Moab.We had to stop and charge again at Green River but it was worth it to have a full battery for Moab.

This time, we got back to Moab early enough to find a legit campsite. First, we went to check out some campsites along the Colorado River but due to all the recent rain, those sites were closed. We ended up on a scary dirt road on the edge of a canyon before we both decided to turn around. I was very glad that Aidan was driving instead of me.

I wanted to go back to Sand Flats Recreation Area for a site but Aidan was doubtful. We were in luck! It was early enough to grab a great site. After setting up camp, we went straight into town for an early dinner. Little did Aidan know, Irene would be meeting us there!

Irene and her family were in Moab for a vacation and I decided to keep it a secret. I sent Irene my location and she tracked us down to a gift shop to reveal the surprise. The three of us caught up and ate dinner at the Food Truck Park which was right next to Irene's hotel. She told us she had a pool and said we should've brought our swimsuits. Good thing we had the car with all of our stuff in it - benefits of car camping!

The three of us went for a swim and then got to take a shower. What a treat! When Irene's family got back from their dinner, they invited us to join them on their evening of stargazing in Arches. Somehow their car was big enough to fit all 8 of us! While it was a bit cloudy for good stargazing, we had a great time joining the Lemberos family.

Day 8, Friday - Canyonlands

As usual, we started the day by going to the Visitor's Center, this time at Canyonlands. There, they recommended a bunch of shorter walks. First up was, would you believe it, another arch trail - Mesa Arch. This trail gave us an expansive view of the canyon and another quality arch pic.

Next, we did the Upheaval Dome trail which reveals a ~mysterious~ dome shape in the canyon. There are two theories about how it formed - salt and a meteor. Aidan and I are on team meteor.

Whale Rock was next, although I don't think we followed the trail. Instead, we walked out as far as we could until we reached the edge of the canyon. There, we saw white throated swifts dive bombing the canyon. The longer we stayed, the closer they got to us. They flew so fast you could hear them soaring through the air. Something about their speed and proximity while sitting on the edge of the canyon was a little unnerving; however, it was such a special and memorable experience.

We had a picnic bench lunch and then went to the Grand View Point Overlook which gave us 360 degree views of the canyon.

We grabbed some quick tacos at the food trucks before heading back to the Lemberos' hotel for a swim - this time, with all the kids. We caught up about our days and hung out until dark. Aidan and I were looking forward to building a fire and making s'mores back at camp but unfortunately it was extremely windy so we had to take shelter in the tent and eat cold s'mores - if you can even call them that. I got a good whole body exfoliation that night from the sand whipping into our tent.

Day 9, Saturday - Arches & Drive to Denver

On Saturday morning Aidan and I went back to Arches to see the Windows. We were supposed to meet the Lemberos' there but we lost service. Aidan and I began the walk and went off to the primitive trail where Chris found us! We got to do the rest of the walk with the whole group and do a few photoshoots. Don't we blend in well with our adopted fam??

Sadly we had to head back to Denver, but at least we had a concert to look forward to on Sunday. Aidan had a great time at his first Red Rocks show! Eventually, we had to say goodbye. Stay tuned for when I go visit Aidan in London - hopefully next year and hopefully with Irene!

[seoconsultant-1]

6 Things You Should Discover Life Insurance

That two word response was in order to colleague of mine; after she had so magnificently offered us a cigarette after our lunch time. Normally in this situation I would personally have pounced, feral instincts taking over as my brain realised there was free nicotine up for grabs. Today, well last Thursday regarding exact; I quit smoking - hence my completely irrational (for a "smoker" at least) answer.

"Please go back. It is usually quite risky out here," said a firefighter. Suchandan had already commenced suffocating. I threw final glance at the hell of an floor, and started descending the steps. Carefully escaping the hose pipes, wires and debris as we had done on our journey in the Nandaram building, we reached the salir. We were covered in soot, and were all groggy the family emerged from the the starting. After washing my face for just a hand pump across the building, I glanced for you to take a style at the firemen fighting the terminate.

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She made an excuse and left the bistro early, not too he is at there almost as much ast he was too busy outside chain smoking. Her mistake was sticking around too long and not going for the best dating site to secure a screen and background payment. The twin brother hold shown on.

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