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YS Sweater Manufacturer https://knittedsweater.net

email: yisweaterfactory@gmail.com

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[lively-potter]

— nepenthe ; jjk ; part two

— genre ; age gap, angst, fluff, smut, sheltered oc, ceo jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta )

— warnings ; please note that in the beginning, the oc is in an abusive home — and if this triggers you please do not read. the oc is of age but nothing smutty will be happening for a while — but there WILL be smut. A small bit of SA is in this chapter and if it tiggers you, don’t read.

— intro, part one

— 2024 © @LivelyPotter

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

— word count ; 2.2k

***

SOLARIS January 20th, 2024 Charleston, SC

THE NAME SENT TREMBLES OF FEAR DOWN MY SPINE.

"Chairman Jeon?" my words cut off in a whimper at the reminder of the man everyone was frightened of. It was no secret to everyone how influential Chairman or Mister Jeon was and how much power he held by being the Chairman and owner of most of the multi-billion dollar companies in the United States and South Korea; the country he was originally from.

He even owned a Gentlemen's club here, called Ataraxia, in Charleston that Father visits more often than he ought — when the Chairman allows other people in the private club one another month.

I bit down on my lip as more thoughts raced through my brain.

Chairman Jeon wasn't a man even the most courageous of people wanted to cross, and those who did were either found dead...or just disappeared into thin air. He was the kind of man parents threatened their children with when they wanted them to behave. He was the same man Father threatened me with when I wouldn't stop crying after Mama died. Chairman Jeon was the most powerful sort of man Charleston had ever seen. It was also rumored that he had strong ties to the Mafia.

A cold chill passed through me at the thought.

Most of the people who lived here were grateful he barely made appearances, since ninety-five percent of the population of Charleston worked for him.

It had been months since Chairman Jeon had been here – I reckoned he spent most of his time in Korea, where his permanent residence was.

"Go to your room, girl, and remember –" he cut himself off to glare heatedly at me, "this house had better be spotless. I won't have my friends visit a pig stye."

I jerkily nodded and without wasting a moment, I raced away from him and shot to my bedroom. The first thing I did was wrap myself in my blanket and huddle in the corner – it was something I did when I wanted to think clearly.

Picking at the skin on my lip, I hesitantly glanced out the window and sighed. This would be a nerve-wracking week.

A stuffed purple bunny sat on the edge of my bed – a stuffed animal five-year-old me lovingly named; Mr. Carrots – caused me to smile. I shivered slightly underneath my blanket, thanking god I was finally warming up – and snatched the bunny from my bed and snuggled close to its neck.

Mr. Carrots had been with me the majority of my life and he was one of the only pieces of Mama I had left.

He brought me peace and comfort when Mama couldn't. I was anxious for what the next few days would bring but I didn't have any other choice but to just let them play out the way God intended.

*** SOLARIS January 21st, 2024 Charleston, SC

THE NEXT DAY WAS MUCH BRIGHTER THAN THE LAST.

Father had left before I woke up, sniffling with the first signs of a cold. I wrapped myself in one of Father's old sweaters to keep myself warm.

Wrapping my arms around my tummy with a flinch, I knew I better pay attention when it came time for Father to come home. The last thing I needed was for him to catch me wearing his old clothes to keep me warm.

The only thing I had to do before I started taking overthink down and cleaning was to place a new bandaid on the gash on my wrist.

Doing that, quickly, stomach grumbling in hunger, I entered the kitchen with a longing glance out of the tiny window above the kitchen sink.

I had lost count of how many years it had been since I was allowed to go outside the house and explore. I reckoned it had been years. I hardly remembered what kind of places were outside but I did remember how much I loved walking through the woods with Mama, collecting pretty leaves and tiny pincones. I smiled and started to twist the ends of my hip-length hair. I still had those leaves tucked inside the old pages of one of my old storybooks that Mama used to read to me. The little pinecones were stashed inside my little trinket box, along with the little acorns – we only found those when we were lucky.

I carefully grabbed a knife from the drawer, and cut a small apple in half, and nibbled on it as I pulled long hair out of my face with a ribbon and prepared to start cleaning.

I hummed happily under my breath as I picked up the glass, scrapped knees aching but I paid it no mind.

Hours passed by in a blur and I thankfully got the entire house cleaned and dinner and snacks already presented on the table before I declared myself done.

A grin beamed across my lips as I trotted to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. My bare feet padded on the carpet as I neared the small window a foot from the floor and knelt in front of it. My hands cupped my jawline, eyes watching the sun set with a heavy heart. Tears pricked my eyes and I closed them and clasped my hands together in front of my heart and began to speak.

"Dear heavenly Father," I started off, eyes closed and head tilted towards the sky, "I thank for letting me wake up and experience another day on this earth. I thank you for keeping me safe today, and being by my side when no one else is. I ask that you please watch over Mama and let her know that I love her and can't wait to be reunited with her one day." a lone tear dripped down my cheek, "Please, dear Lord, bless me and keep me safe and continue to hold me within your arms. I know that you have a plan for me," I continued, knees shifting.

"God always has a plan, my little Solaris." Mama's voice rang inside my head. "No matter how rough life gets at times, just know that God will always be there for you and after those hard times are over...the rewards are immense and glorious."

"But please, I just want to not be afraid anymore." I sniffled, "I want the pain to stop." the tear slid down my head and dripped onto my clasped hands. "I thank you for hearing my prayer and I hope you'll answer me soon." a small smile crept upon my lips. "I guess that's all for now – oh! And could you please keep me safe tonight and when Chairman Jeon comes back, please? I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but you're the only one besides Mama that loves me and I know that you hear me when I pray...um, Thank you again! In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."

My soul lightened and my heart rate relaxed and then sped up when the noises of the front door opening. A little gasp escaped my lips and I smothered.

Don't be seen or heard, Solaris.

The voices of Father's terrifying friends had me balking in place, arms wrapping around myself to ground my trembling.

With shaky fingers, I peeled Father's sweater off my body and stuffed it underneath my bed — I'd have to sneak inside his room and put it back when he left.

I sat in the corner of my bedroom, knees pulled to my chest, and listened closely to what was happening in the living room.

The house was old and nearly falling apart, which meant the walls were thin. Pressing an ear to the wall, my eyes fluttered closed to focus. But I didn't have to listen long.

"Girl!"

Father's boom made me stand at full attention. I held my hands together to shield the shakiness from them and scurried from the room.

Soon enough, I was standing in front of Father and his friends. Two older men who gave me the creeps.

James and Stevie.

They eyed me like I was a piece of meat when they plopped down on the sofa and stroked along their bulging beer bellies.

My lips trembled, remembering their slimy touches along my legs and biceps the last time they came here.

"Get us beer."

I stood ramrod straight and nodded.

I left the living room without another word and withdrew three bottles of Modelo and opened them. Shockingly being able to juggle them in my arms, I hunched my shoulders and walked slowly back to the living room — heart thundering inside my chest.

When I returned, Father was gone and only James and Stevie were there. Their eyes latched onto me in a second and they exchanged looks.

My eyes glossed over when Stevie ran a hand through his greasy hair and mustache while licking his nearly invisible lips.

"W-Where's Father?" I asked, even hearing the unaltered fear in my croaking voice. I took hesitant steps near them and slowly handed them the beers in my hand.

It was James who answered.

"Bathroom, sweetcheeks."

I only nodded in return, internally cringing at the terrible name.

Slowly sighing in relief, I turned and placed Father's Modelo on the coffee table and stilled when I felt a hand land on my lower back.

Disgust welled in my gut as another hand landed on the exposed skin on the back of my knee and caressed my skin.

"Don't." I stiffened, terror locking my limbs. "Please." I shook my head, turning to face the men. Their faces were held in a lecherous glare as their unfocused eyes glazed over.

Stevie's hand tightened around my knee and tugged as James' hand fell from my lower back.

"Why don' you take a seat?" James asked, fingering a yellow patch on his skin, running a hand on his swollen face — probably due to high cholesterol.

"No thank you." I shook my head and mentally begged Father to come back. I felt black spots dance across my vision in a slow, swift motion.

I felt so faint.

Their touches on my body made me feel disgusted. Dirty.

Even though I hated showers because of my experience with them, all I wanted to do in this moment was go under the scalding spray and wash my skin raw in hopes I'd never remember the feeling of their hands on me. I was so scared.

"I'm tired." I tried to refuse, tugging myself further away from them.

Stevie's eyes sharpened at my blatant disregard of his desires and he locked his limbs, preparing to jump up from his seat.

A tear left my eye in relief as Father stomped into the room, loudly complaining of the PowerPoint slide they had to finish before Chairman Jeon came back.

Tomorrow.

"I swear," Father grunted, plopping down in his recliner and snatching the beer from the table. "Every time that damned man comes back — everyone freaks out."

I slowly started in his direction, body positioning behind his chair. I felt my body relax the tiniest bit being away from those two men.

Stevie took a glance at me before looking at Father, "No shit." He agreed with an eye roll.

"I just don't know what Chairman Jeon just don't stay the fuck in Korea. Where he and that gang of his belongs."

My head was hung towards the ground as I listened closely to them bashing the Chairman. Speaking of how he basically took over Charleston with little to no work.

I didn't know how much of that was true — but I also thought they were just jealous of his success. I was scared of the Chairman, but I can also give credit when credit is due.

"Go to your room, girl, and leave us." Father ordered without looking at me.

I stood at attention and jerkily nodded.

I scurried to my bedroom and locked the door behind me.

In just a few moments, I allowed myself to fall down onto the floor and claw at my skin in hopes that I would scratch away the memories.

Would tomorrow be a better day?

I prayed that it would be.

author's note ; ✨

if you want to be apart of my taglist, just let me know! thank you so much for reading! I appricate every single one of you <3

[milkb0nny]

Sweater Weather

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 2: Sweater Weather

Summary: You finally had the chance to meet the Winchester brothers again after weeks. Due to their hunting lifestyle you hadn't caught the chance to unite with them the past days. Today you accepted the invite of Dean, agreeing to have some drinks with them. Unfortunately you assessed the weather wrong, leaving you freezing in the cold night air.

Note: I went way over my anticipated word count for this one. Somehow my hands were writing faster than I realized. Anyway, fun with this wholesome prompt!

Warnings: none

word count: 1.203

The past few days the hot summer vanished into cooler mornings and fresh breezes of wind. The temperature gradually dropped, signaling the end of the season where shorts and crop tops had been the norm. While many expressed a sense of melancholy as summer waned, you couldn't help but revel in the changing weather.

This year's summer had been exceptionally long and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the arrival of the rainy season. Since July, you had been yearning for the perfect opportunity to sit on the wide windowsill with a steaming cup of tea, a cozy blanket draped over your shoulders. Finally, the time had come to count raindrops as they raced down the glass and to admire the beauty of autumn.

This morning Dean had invited you over to go drinking in the evening with Sam, on which you readily agreed on. Time spent with the Winchester brothers was precious to you, and you held a special fondness for shared moments with Sam. The tall, enigmatic brunette had held your admiration for some time now. Still, you never had the courage to confess to him, or even hint your attraction.

You were well aware of the fact that they were hunters, a life fraught with danger and uncertainty. Dean had shared with you the painful memory of Sam’s late girlfriend, an experience that had left deep scars on his heart. You refused to stir negative emotions, putting your needs back and loving him from a safe distance. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why you found the cooler seasons so appealing—the longing for warmth and the comfort of an embrace.

As you prepared to meet the Winchesters, you took a moment to check the weather one last time. The weather report had stated that today would be surprisingly warm compared to the days before. Therefore you decided on wearing your favorite pants, combined with a fitting shirt and a thin jacket. In case it would rain the jacket could protect you.

The moment you put your keys into your small backpack, you heard the humming engine of the Impala in front of your home. A flutter of nervous excitement coursed through you, causing a subtle flush to color your cheeks. You would see Sam again after weeks of not seeing each other.

Despite the slight outbreak of sweat, something you were likely the only one to notice, you got overran by happiness when you witnessed the smiling faces of the Winchesters. Eager to be reunited with Sam, you slid into the backseat of the Impala, the door closing with a gentle thud.

The Impala's iconic black exterior and the familiar scent of leather and old books enveloped you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you.

Sam turned his head around, trying to get a pleasant look at you. He said, “Hey y/n. It's been too long. We missed having you around.”

Dean agreed with his brother, repeating that they’ve missed your dearly appreciated company.

Your heart jumped and a bright smile spread over your shy face.

“I missed you guys too. It's good to be back,” you admitted.

The ride was over after five minutes and Dean parked in front of a typical bar. When the three of you entered the heavy smell of alcohol sneaked into your noses. A smell which reminded you of the brothers, a smell you hadn’t liked until you met them.

The evening unfolded in a delightful blur of shared stories and laughter, the comfortable ambiance of the bar enveloping you all. Drinks were poured and clinked together in unison, a ritual that signaled the beginning of an exciting evening. The hours passed in a whirlwind, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the warmth of the Winchester brothers' friendship and the deep sense of belonging you had found in their company.

As the night slowly drew to a close, you left the bar with a heart full of cherished memories and a bond that had only grown stronger. The crisp coldness of the night breeze hit you, sending a shiver down your back. Sam, who cautiously watched you, noticed your discomfort immediately.

“It's gotten a lot colder than I expected," he remarked, his breath forming a slight misty cloud in the chilly night air.

You agreed, looking up to him, “Yeah, I’m freezing.”

You didn’t want to indicate something, though it sounded exactly like it. A firm kick in the shoulders from Dean’s side reminded you of your sometimes oblivious behavior. You gazed back to Sam, who apparently didn’t notice the tease of his older brother. Relieved, you continued your short walk to the Impala.

However, Sam started to shrug out of his big sweater, a worn and comfortable garment that held the faint scent of his cologne and the warmth of his presence.

"Here, take this," he offered.

His brother didn’t want to partake in your romantic interaction, leaving the both of you behind and starting the engine to warm himself up. Sam’s eyes remained fixated on you.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience him, but the cold was undeniable. Therefore, you gratefully accepted the offered sweater.

As you slid your arms into the soft fabric, you couldn't help but notice the subtle fragrance that clung to it - Sam's familiar scent, a mixture of the outdoors and a hint of his cologne. It was a scent that felt like home, like safety, like Sam. You pulled the sweater closer around you, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided.

"Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it,” you thanked him.

Sam thought you looked adorable in his clothes, though he didn’t admit that right away. His dreamy eyes, glued onto your silhouette, expressed his thoughts already. He surely did notice your reddened face, and he absolutely acknowledged your awkward fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweater. You looked cute, so cute Sam wanted to pick you up and lay in bed with you all day.

Nevertheless none of you broke the silence and you began to continue your way once again. At one point, as you walked close together, Sam's fingers brushed against yours. It was a small, subtle touch, but it caused an explosion in your head. You stole a glance at him, and your eyes met for a fleeting moment. There was a depth of emotion in Sam's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you and him.

He suddenly stopped, resulting in you turning around. Still clung on the sweater, your curious eyes met his more serious face, or rather passionate. Before you could say a word, he placed his big hands on your cheeks, cupping them.

Without hesitation a kiss traced your lips, morphing the feelings of the two of you. You felt the hotness rush through your whole body, making you blush heavily. Your freezing body warmed up the moment his gentle lips met yours. Sam pulled away, though still remained so close you could feel his breath and his palms remained on your cold skin.

“Perhaps it's time we make our way back to Dean, Y/n. What do you say?”

[omgthatdress]

Apparently, Molly is low-key a major gay icon, and honestly, I get it. After all, Molly did *really* like her pretty teacher, Miss Campbell. If you think about it, it makes sense that lot of future lesbians would absolutely love Molly. Most dolls in the 90s were hyper-feminine princess dolls, and Molly was... not. I’d imagine the market for girls who want to play with dolls that aren’t pretty pink princesses is pretty large and the supply is pretty small. Just like there’s plenty of boys out there who want to play with something other than GI Joes. Molly (and AG in general) fits neatly into that market, which I’m sure is why she was so successful.

Last year, with its re-launch of the classic dolls, AG put a post on it’s instagram, “To all the Molly girls in the world, we see you and celebrate you,” which a lot of folks on Twitter took to see as confirmation that Molly was gay. When asked if they just outed Molly, AG gave a very non-committal reply. AG has always had a distinctly feminist slant, but it’s only ever toed the line of actually being LGBT inclusive. So far the only actual inclusion we’ve seen from them is a Girl of the Year with a pair of gay aunts. Even that tiny whiff of queerness was enough to set off a frothing horde of angry conservative moms screaming for a boycott. Since Mattell is only motivated by profit, I doubt we’ll get more representation any time soon, but we can dream.

Anyway, World War II was pretty gay to begin with.

A lot of historians point to WW2 as the starting point of the modern gay rights movement because before it, you had very many people living on isolated farms and never going very far from home in their lifetimes. With mass recruitment of men into the military, gay servicemen were able to find other men like themselves and build a community. It was much the same way for women who went to work in factories, joined the WAC or WAVES, and joined women’s baseball leagues. That’s right, the league of their own was gay as FUCK.

As far as Molly’s fashion goes, I love her lack of pink. I’m glad there’s a doll out there that isn’t hyper-gendered, and I wish there were more dolls like her out there.

With sweaters coming into fashion in the 1920s and 30s, the sweaters of the 40s started to see more complex and colorful knits coming into style.

Much of the fashion of this era was dominated by frugality. Europe’s couture houses were shut down, and fabric was rationed. Hems were shortened and baggy cuts and useless frills were done away with. Britain introduced the “Utility Scheme” which hired designers to make chic ensembles using as few resources as possible. Because of this, separates and outfits that could be made with scraps of fabric were very popular, and at-home knitting and sewing continued to be highly popular.

“After the United States entered World War II in 1941, companies began to experiment with various materials in anticipation of rationing and shortages. This example is a prototype from Nina-Fay Foundations, which uses plastic for closures and stays instead of the usual metal. Although metal was not ultimately rationed, the company was experimenting with alternatives to metal zippers and hooks in the event that it was needed for the war effort.”

(The Met Museum)

Women were taking men’s jobs and taking on masculine roles

But they were still expected to maintain a certain level of femininity, “To give our boys something to fight for.”

Because of all of this, the gender politics of the 1940s are really complicated and interesting.

[monetka228]

I was rewatching PnF and wrote some hcs about Heinz/Charlene. Idk why, but I love them sm. Can’t stop thinking about those babies

So, here they are. Enjoy.

Charlene loves all kinds of shiny things, so Heinz often pampered her with gifts of white gold and diamonds, because the company paid him a lot of money + his inventions, which now serve humanity, brought him extra money every month.

Charlene likes indoor plants, but does not like to take care of them. This annoys Heinz, but he still waters her flowers and pots.

Heinz took maternity leave and took care of their daughter while Charlene was at work.

Charlene is allergic to fur, so they got a sphynx. It always slept between Heinz and Charlene like a baby.

When Charlene had painful periods, Heinz stroked her belly and gave her various treats to make her feel better.

Charlene always covered her husband with a blanket when he fell asleep at his desk and scolded him for the gigantic amount of coffee he drank.

Heinz always hugged her whenever he could. He wanted to feel her touch and hold her close to him.

Heinz's love language: touches, words. Charlene's love language: actions, gifts.

Charlene likes to buy him flowers when she gets home late from work. She likes to watch his reactions.

Charlene often sends him intimate photos of herself when on business trips. Heinz then writes a one-meter poem about how flawless and beautiful her body is.

Heinz was her ideal of male beauty.

Charlene liked his German accent, which later disappeared due to life in the United States.

Charlene wakes up first. She strokes his head and kisses him a few times, then gets up and cleans up the mess left in the bed last night. Then she goes to the kitchen and leaves him a breakfast of eggs and fried vegetables and juices that she made herself. Also leaves a note with her lipstick on it and says how much she loves him and goes to work.

After the divorce, Charlene still uses the perfume that Heinz gave her because: "This perfume reminds me of you."

Back in college, Charlene developed a habit of covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her moans. And when Heinz was pleasing her, she covered her mouth again, but Heinz jerked her hand sharply and said: “Don’t do this. I want to hear how good I make you feel.''

Heinz was constantly playfully pinching her, squeezing her, lifting her sweater a little so that her skin could be seen. He liked to touch her and wanted to feel closeness not only emotionally, but also physically, although he preferred relationships where partners are close in spirit.

Heinz is afraid of mice. Charlene was the one who nailed them, muttering, "All men are big babies!", while Heinz was trembling in fear.

The scientist liked to read her something about biology. Charlene herself didn't study it much at school and found it boring, but she listened anyway because she liked hearing his voice.

When Vanessa was little and slept in another room at night, Heinz was afraid to touch his wife, get alone have sex with her. He was afraid that his daughter would hear and run into the room. When he himself was a goldfinch, he heard strange noises from his parents in the room and ran to check. He’d rather not check...

Charlene had black hair for a while. Heinz dyed it himself.

Heinz's favorite pastime was lying on Charlene's chest and listening to her steady heartbeat. Every time she said she could hear and feel his breathing, he felt goosebumps. She also often whispered cute things in his ear that made him melt.

Charlene loved it when Heinz hugged her from behind and kissed her neck and shoulders.

Charlene kept frowning as Heinz leaned in to kiss her after smoking a cigarette. He would then go brush his teeth and chew some iced peppermint gum to kill the stench and kiss her.

Charlene can play double bass and piano, and Heinz knows a few chords on guitar and violin. She often played the piano, and he sat and admired the smooth movements of her fingers, which so skillfully ran over the keys, creating a pleasant melody and a beautiful picture of pacification on her face. She also taught him to play several pieces: "Dog's Waltz" and "Rosehip". They even played an ensemble.

[warbyparker]

Warby Parker Pigeon Sweater Sweepstakes

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2. ELIGIBILITY: This Sweepstakes is open only to individual legal residents of the fifty (50) United States  and the District of Columbia (excluding Rhode Island), at least 18 years of age (or the age of majority in his or her state of residence if greater than 18) on date of entry. Employees of Warby Parker Inc. (“Warby Parker” or “Sponsor”) and such employees’ immediate family members (parents, spouses, siblings, children, and grandparents, regardless of where they reside), and members of the same household (whether legally related or not), and their respective affiliates, subsidiaries, parent companies, and advertising and promotion agencies are not eligible to enter or to win. Parties that are under any obligation, contractual or otherwise, that would limit or impair Sponsor’s ability to use the Entry as set forth in these Official Rules, and parties that are under a merchandising or similar agreement that would restrict exploitation of any right related to the Entry, are also not eligible to enter or to win. Sweepstakes void where restricted or prohibited. By entering, you represent that you have read these Official Rules and agree to abide by and be bound by all terms of these Official Rules.

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During the Sweepstakes Period, like the @warbyparker post announcing the Sweepstakes and tag a friend in the comments of the post. Each individual comment with a unique tag shall be considered one (1) entry (each, an “Entry”), provided that all other entry requirements have been met. 

All Entries must also comply with the Entry Requirements set forth in Rule #4 below in order to be eligible and the Instagram Terms of Use. Entries not submitted in accordance with the instructions provided in these Official Rules are subject to disqualification, in the sole discretion of the Sponsor. For the purposes of these Official Rules, receipt of Entry occurs when the Instagram servers successfully receive the comment. Sponsor shall not bear any responsibility for any late, lost or misdirected Entries. All Entries become the property of Sponsor.

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[be-side-my-self]

Banana sweater

This pattern was shared on the old server. So, because it still takes forever until I'm finished with the next part of "Life continues after the adventure" but I also joked that since Laura is learning to knit in that stories her making this to prank Travis would be a cute little fic. For Christmas. As a present?

I'll probably upload it at a later time to Ao3 but only after I finished the next piece and I probably reworked it a bit. xD

Rating: M - for lots of sexual innuendo Relationship: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney Tags: humor, sexual innuendo, a little bit of angst, they want each other but for some reason can't do anything about it, the reason is me, I'm the asshole in control, older man/younger woman, slowburn, mutual attraction, original characters, fluff, of course there is fluff, Travis has a big dick, Lauras pov, food, eating, Wordcount: 1958

Not Beta read! Sorry for any mistakes! I have no idea what I'm doing!

It probably helps to know the the other stories but I think this is fine alone too.

Laura is in North Kill for a year now and is the assistant of the local vet but will soon finish her studies. She is part of a small crafts-circle that the old women of North Kill use to chat and have some fun. The town is mostly filled with old people, young one leaving the town as soon as possible.

After Laura's return she and Travis became friends and their relationship moved so far that they often share their evenings, falling asleep together on the couch in Lauras apartment. But nothing happened between them yet.

All Hacketts except Bobby are dead, all counsellors survived in this timeline.

Finally the story after the read more!

---

"Hey, Ladies! Look at this!" Mrs. Gauthier came into the city community center, just as Laura was helping Mrs. Waldmann preparing another pot of coffee in the little corner kitchen. 

Mrs. Gautier put down a couple of printed pages. Laura couldn‘t see much but that it was a knitting pattern and taking in the reactions of some of the women it was probably something perverted. Laura hurried with her task and then walked over to see what some of them were laughing about while others shook their heads.

It was called a banana-sweater but it could be obviously used for something else too. Laura laughed. It was actually quite cute with the little button. 

"What do you think, Laura?" Mrs. Gauthier was still smirking as Mrs. Waldmann walked up to the group too.

"Bananas have it all. Hammocks in summer, little sweaters in winter…" Laura shrugged and Mrs. Gauthier laughed about that little joke. She then collected the papers again. 

"My granddaughter sent it to me, asked me to make a few for a bachelorette party. Her best friend is getting married."

"That is so nice!" 

Laura returned into the kitchen corner to get the coffee and also to avoid any possible upcoming questions about when she was going to get married.

Sometimes it felt like she had adopted a bunch of grandmas when she joined this crafts circle.

Nonetheless…

When Laura returned to the table the women had already arranged some of the treats and helped themselves to some of the drinks.

"Mrs. Gauthier, is it okay if I sit beside you and also try this pattern?"

"Of course!"

"What do you need this pattern for?" Mrs. Miller asked her question showing how much she liked to gossip. 

"I have a friend I want to prank next time I see them," Laura smiled thinking about it. 

"A small friend that is keeping you company on lonely nights?" It was Mrs. Collier asking that question with a smirk. Her friend Mrs Miller laughed along.

Laura smiled and shook her head and then winked. "No, I mean a real human friend. Surprisingly I have them." 

Not that Laura would ever admit that she also had a "little friend" that she maybe or maybe not had gotten at the store last time when she was with her mom for Thanksgiving. Not like she could get one in North Kill or order one. 

People would know. And she needed one. Fingers were nice and all but recently… that little friend wasn’t small. 

Laura got to work. She had a banana to dress.  

— 

"Laura, why does this banana have a little…" 

Laura glanced out of the kitchen to see Travis stare at the fruit bowl that was standing on the living room table. His expression was exactly what she had hoped for. 

Utter confusion. 

"It’s a sweater!" Laura managed to sound chipper and didn’t laugh at his questioning glance towards her and returned to the kitchen, keeping an eye on the scrambled eggs. "I made it at the crafts meeting!"

Laura had to shout a little to make sure that Travis would hear her. 

"Uh huh…" 

"Little sweater before I start with a big one for you!"

"A sweater… for a banana?"

"Yeah!" 

Laura could hear Travis step up into the doorway to the kitchen: "And since when did you put fruits on the table?"

She turned towards him, with her best innocent smile in place. 

"The other women told me that I should eat more fruits and who am I to not listen to the council of the wise ladies of North Kill?" 

"Two oranges and one banana with a sweater?" Laura had to turn back to the stove in an attempt to hide her smile. 

"There is also a pear and two apples under those…"

Travis walked out again but not without answering. "Sure. You stick to that story, ma’am." 

Taking a deep breath to not either start shouting or laughing, Laura turned off the stove and grabbed two plates and put some bread into the toaster. He was right of course. The placement was very deliberate. She wanted to prank him. Cause a reaction. And she had gotten one. Maybe there was more?  

While waiting for the bread Laura got the ketchup and two bottles of beer from the fridge. 

It gave her the chance to look out and see Travis glaring at the offending fruit bowl. Finally he reached for the banana and apparently compared it to his hand. There was a small snort and a calm "it’s smaller" and Laura hid away before he could see her sneaking glances.

What was that about? He couldn’t mean…  

Suddenly the toaster finished heating up the bread, causing Laura to yelp.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I‘ll be out with you any moment."

Taking a deep breath, she put everything on a tablet and walked to the couch and put it down on the table while Travis moved the fruit bowl to her desk. 

Finally they sat down, Laura started one of the many Christmas movies. 

"When you start with that sweater for me please make sure that it is big enough. I would hate not to be able to wear it because of my size," he grabbed his plate.

Laura halted in her reach towards the ketchup bottle, glancing towards Travis who looked way too nonchalant. He returned her look with a perfectly neutral face and nodded toward her plate. "Aren’t you hungry?"

What the fuck? This was not how it was supposed to be! He was not supposed to be the one teasing her! 

"Of course I would take your measurements before I start with such a big project!" She added ketchup to her toast and bit into it. 

He snorted at that and also continued with his meal and drink. 

Great! Now what?! 

She had known that Travis was big! You can wake up with a dick poking you only so many times before you start to guess the size. 

But if he really was bigger than that stupid banana… the fruit was bigger than her toy! 

God!

How the fuck was she supposed to look at him and not think about his dick?! It had already been a struggle before. She was way too aware of her attraction. Well, she would just have to deal with it… 

She glanced over to him as he was slowly eating his toast now ignoring her and way too focused on the movie. 

Damn him! 

She would get back at him. Eating and listening to the movie with only half an ear she glanced over to the fruits and then had an idea. 

After they finished Laura decided to also take everything back into the kitchen and then came back with a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce. She then walked back to her desk. 

"Do you want some fruit?" 

"No, thanks." 

Laura grabbed the banana and sat down with her loot, slowly undressing the fruit and then opening it up. 

She then cuddled up to Travis who she could see from the corner of her eye, watching her with some curious attention. She had to move away from him again to grab the cream to add it to the tip of the banana and added some of the chocolate just to make it not as obvious. For the same reason she decided against basically deepthroating it. Also she actually wanted to enjoy the treat. 

And that she did, bit into the fruit and actually the only thing missing was some ice cream but she would have to get up for that again and laziness finally won. A joke should only go so far. But it was delicious and it had been some time since she had eaten a treat like that and so she let out a low moan. 

Laura realized that she couldn’t see any reaction Travis might have had right now but that wasn’t even the most important part right now. Still, a little bit more teasing would be fun. So, she turned to him and caught his eyes rushing from her to the screen and a slight blush on his cheeks and ears. 

"Want a bite?" 

"No…," his voice was hoarse and he had to clear his throat. "No, thank you." 

With a smile and being sure she won this round Laura cuddled back into Travis side, both cream and sauce between them and she continued to eat her dessert, adding mostly whipped cream and moaning from time to time. 

"You know fruit is not very healthy when you add that stuff," Travis glanced down at her just as she was licking some cream off the fruit and then biting a piece off again. She could hear him inhale.  

"You know I know that but also that I don’t care. Last chance to get a piece!" Laura got out the last piece of the fruit and threw the peel on the table and added cream and chocolate to then hold it up to Travis, not expecting him to actually eat it. 

But he did. And before she knew what happened he moved forward and for a short moment her fingers were in his mouth and there was a short suck and lick on her thumb. And… fuck! What the fuck?! No fucking way. 

"Yeah, it's good. I’ll take one next time too."

Now it was on Laura to exhale the breath she hadn’t known she had held. There was only one way to react to this: angry laughter. 

"Eww!" Laura laughed and wiped off her hand on Travis shirt, doing her best to ignore how his chest felt and not remembering the times she saw him without shirt. "You’re disgusting!" 

"You keep forgetting that I’m a big brother and an uncle! I basically helped to raise four children."  

There was a short and awkward silence, the movie completely forgotten by now. Laura put the cream and sauce back on the table to then return to Travis side and cuddle into him, trying to be as close as possible and mumbling a "I’m sorry" into his chest. 

He laid both his arms around her, pulled her closer and planted a little kiss on the top of Laura's head. She really liked that feeling. Would have been nicer  under different circumstances.

"No, I’m sorry. I should not have said that." 

"I fear it will always be between us in the end…"

He hummed in agreement but kissed her again. A way to say it was fine, that it was the past but it would still always be there. Only one of the four was still around. 

Laura sighed and turned her head to the screen, getting into an even more comfortable position. 

"Well, today I learned that I won’t win in a prank war against you."

"That is smart of you to figure out."

"Because I am smart." "Yes, you are."

They stayed silent for a few moments and glancing around Laura saw the banana sweater lying nearby and grabbed it to hold it up to Travis. 

"Just so you know, it is one size fits all. Or most… bananas that is." 

Again there was a neutral look, and raised eyebrows. He took the little knitted piece and pulled it over three of his fingers and stretched them as a test. 

Finally he glanced down at her: "Most." 

"Oh, shut up!" She grabbed the piece and threw it on the floor, feeling laughter vibrate through his chest. "I’ll knit a banana pattern into your sweater!" "Whatever it turns out to look like, I’ll wear it. As long as it’s not too small."

Laura smiled at that, finally looking at the screen and relaxing further and enjoying the evening. 

[cryley]

thank u for tagging me bby @cows-wearing-my-sweater ♡♡♡ !! 15 questions and 15 mutuals:

1) are you named after anyone? nope

2) when was the last time you cried? I think it was probably when I listened to the new boygenius song "cool about it" for the first time early last week??

3) do you have kids? no and never will. I adore my niece to bits though

4) do you use sarcasm a lot? I guess so, in my own way. I think I also have a hard time understanding it sometimes

5) what's the first thing you notice about people? either hair or eyes

6) what's your eye color? like a forest-y green

7) scary movies or happy endings? scary movies, but I prefer classic horror

8) any special talents? uhh being irritating? lol in all seriousness, maybe organizing information if that can be a talent? I used to be okay at painting in school.

9) where were you born? east coast, united states

10) what are your hobbies? art, writing, reading, learning new things, d&d, old-school runescape

11) have you any pets? I have a cat named Tanuki!! he is my son and he can do no wrong.

12) what sports do you play/have you played? In my youth, I played basketball for ~10 yrs and soccer for ~3 yrs, but I hated both and wanted to quit every year (I was made to play).

13) how tall are you? either 5'5" or 5'6"

14) favorite subject in school? any of my art classes (drawing&comp, sculpture, pottery, painting, etc.)

15) dream job? oddly enough it's very close to what I'm doing now. I work in software development on the team-lead end of things but I would love to move to different roles within my team or with different companies where I'm more interested in the business we serve. I'd love to move to maybe social media software dev. or maybe game dev.? (currently in e-commerce)

tagging (no pressure, just if u want to!! ignore if you already did it/were tagged ♡): @underscoreethan @internetemo @lavender-rainn @decline-in-standards @justanamesstuff @republicsabanana @bookish-strawberry @robbersinaforeignlanguage @hereyeswerefilledwiththestars @drivelikeiido @ohcaroline @bonschai @jesuschristmattyhealy @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @dontfckityoumuppet

[motholith]

Meet Mark (they/he), a grocery store bagger and a cat shelter volunteer on the weekends. Although they are technically the protected for Chealsie, he usually ends up protecting and helping it navigate the strange world that is the "United States Midwest".

Mark enjoys the antics that Chealsie gets into, and finds it fun to explain what an item/activity is when Chealsie doesn't know what it is. Although, he does get tired of explaining after a while.

Mark enjoys musical theater but cannot sing (and knows it), creating .wads for Doom, taking care of his dying garden, and indie horror videos, which they love showing Chealsie, much to his dismay and confusion.

Mark wears his green and black stripped sweater as much as they can, and may or may not have many sets of them incase one get dirty.

He cares for Chealsie as a person would care for a stray cat, and does like its company. They find Kevinn amusing to hang out with, and loves hanging out with his friend/sorta partner/former coworker Nik. He is ???'s Adam. Nothing less than perfection is what ??? provides them.

[jomiddlemarch]

But ah! united, what reverse we have!

“I fucking told you,” Joel muttered, at least having the manners to lower his voice so that only Grace could make him out. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to set an example for Ellie or if he still thought he could maybe get out of it. “I told you I didn’t want to do this—”

“It’s one night. Just one night,” Grace hissed back. She sounded like her own mother and she looked down to make sure she wasn’t wearing a floral-print blouse and elastic waistband pants in a coordinating color.

“It’s one night too many,” Joel said, then shrugged and leaned back against the couch, relaxed and gorgeous like he was in some photo shoot from Before. Grace, motivated by a number of reasons, not all of them equally admirable, but come on, look at the man! decided to throw him a bone and also ignored dead-Lauren cackling about how it wasn’t Grace with the bone to be thrown.

“Don’t you like to win?” Grace asked.

“Jesus, I’m trying to care, but it’s hard,” Joel said.

“You do this, I’ll meet you in the pantry. I’ll make it worth your while,” she said. She nodded and raised an eyebrow so there’d be no mistaking her meaning. She wasn’t in her mother’s usual ensemble, but her own cords and dark sweater weren’t exactly enticing.

“Fine. But you know, there’s no coming back from this,” he said. She decided to hope he meant whatever she’d obliquely promised for the pantry. He stood up, giving her a positively delightful view of his ass in his Levis, and called over to Ted.

“I’ll be on Beard’s team. Grace’ll stay with you and Ronnie and Phyllis.”

“Ain’t that nice, Sporty Spice! I always think pitting two folks who know each other real well makes for a better game,” Ted said. As usual, his mustache was a regular barometer of his mood and Grace could see he was indeed, as he was likely to say, pleased as punch, Captain Crunch.

Thus commenced the first of Ted Lasso’s famous Jackson Pictionary/Charades for the Graphically Impaired Open-to-All Game nights, during which Ted at one point drew a loopy squiggle and Joel guessed, “It’s a lasso.” The fact that Grace and Joel sequentially disappeared for a solid sixteen minutes ostensibly in search of something to go with Beard’s seven-layer dip and returned with a bag of pinto beans (Grace) and dried apple slices (Joel) was wisely not remarked on by anyone. Nor was the state of their untucked shirts, Joel’s missing socks, Grace’s crooked ponytail, or the hickey visible at the base of Joel’s throat. Beard’s team won, Ted declared he couldn’t remember a more pleasant evening nor more congenial company, though the artistic ability on display was widely variable, and Grace discovered that in the right circumstances, her competitive streak and Joel’s evidently translatable and vast experience drawing building plans could result in seven mind-blowing minutes in Heaven. Twice. With two minutes to spare.

Written for @pedrostories​ 1K celebration and to cheer up @tessa-quayle​ who has had a Very Long Week Indeed.

[sixstringphonic]

OpenAI’s Sam Altman Urges A.I. Regulation in Senate Hearing

(Reported by Cecilia Kang, The New York Times, 5/16/23)

The tone of congressional hearings featuring tech industry executives in recent years can best be described as antagonistic. Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Bezos and other tech luminaries have all been dressed down on Capitol Hill by lawmakers upset with their companies.

But on Tuesday, Sam Altman, the chief executive of the San Francisco start-up OpenAI, testified before members of a Senate subcommittee and largely agreed with them on the need to regulate the increasingly powerful A.I. technology being created inside his company and others like Google and Microsoft.

In his first testimony before Congress, Mr. Altman implored lawmakers to regulate artificial intelligence as members of the committee displayed a budding understanding of the technology. The hearing underscored the deep unease felt by technologists and government over A.I.’s potential harms. But that unease did not extend to Mr. Altman, who had a friendly audience in the members of the subcommittee.

The appearance of Mr. Altman, a 38-year-old Stanford University dropout and tech entrepreneur, was his christening as the leading figure in A.I. The boyish-looking Mr. Altman traded in his usual pullover sweater and jeans for a blue suit and tie for the three-hour hearing.

Mr. Altman also talked about his company’s technology at a dinner with dozens of House members on Monday night, and met privately with a number of senators before the hearing, according to people who attended the dinner and the meetings. He offered a loose framework to manage what happens next with the fast-developing systems that some believe could fundamentally change the economy.

“I think if this technology goes wrong, it can go quite wrong. And we want to be vocal about that,” he said. “We want to work with the government to prevent that from happening.”

Mr. Altman made his public debut on Capitol Hill as interest in A.I. has exploded. Tech giants have poured effort and billions of dollars into what they say is a transformative technology, even amid rising concerns about A.I.’s role in spreading misinformation, killing jobs and one day matching human intelligence.

That has thrust the technology into the spotlight in Washington. President Biden this month said at a meeting with a group of chief executives of A.I. companies that “what you’re doing has enormous potential and enormous danger.” Top leaders in Congress have also promised A.I. regulations.

That members of the Senate subcommittee for privacy, technology and the law did not plan on a rough grilling for Mr. Altman was clear as they thanked Mr. Altman for his private meetings with them and for agreeing to appear in the hearing. Cory Booker, Democrat of New Jersey, repeatedly referred to Mr. Altman by his first name.

Mr. Altman was joined at the hearing by Christina Montgomery, IBM’s chief privacy and trust officer, and Gary Marcus, a well-known professor and frequent critic of A.I. technology.

Mr. Altman said his company’s technology may destroy some jobs but also create new ones, and that it will be important for “government to figure out how we want to mitigate that.” He proposed the creation of an agency that issues licenses for the creation of large-scale A.I. models, safety regulations and tests that A.I. models must pass before being released to the public.

“We believe that the benefits of the tools we have deployed so far vastly outweigh the risks, but ensuring their safety is vital to our work,” Mr. Altman said.

But it was unclear how lawmakers would respond to the call to regulate A.I. The track record of Congress on tech regulations is grim. Dozens of privacy, speech and safety bills have failed over the past decade because of partisan bickering and fierce opposition by tech giants.

The United States has trailed the globe on regulations in privacy, speech and protections for children. It is also behind on A.I. regulations. Lawmakers in the European Union are set to introduce rules for the technology later this year. And China has created A.I. laws that comply with its censorship laws.

Senator Richard Blumenthal, Democrat of Connecticut and chairman of the Senate panel, said the hearing was the first in a series to learn more about the potential benefits and harms of A.I. to eventually “write the rules” for it.

He also acknowledged Congress’s failure to keep up with the introduction of new technologies in the past. “Our goal is to demystify and hold accountable those new technologies to avoid some of the mistakes of the past,” Mr. Blumenthal said. “Congress failed to meet the moment on social media.”

Members of the subcommittee suggested an independent agency to oversee A.I.; rules that force companies to disclose how their models work and the data sets they use; and antitrust rules to prevent companies like Microsoft and Google from monopolizing the nascent market.

“The devil will be in the details,” said Sarah Myers West, managing director of AI Now Institute, a policy research center. She said Mr. Altman’s suggestions for regulations don’t go far enough and should include limits on how A.I. is used in policing and the use of biometric data. She noted that Mr. Altman didn’t show any indication of slowing down the development of OpenAI’s ChatGPT tool.

“It’s such an irony seeing a posture about the concern of harms by people who are rapidly releasing into commercial use the system responsible for those very harms,” Ms. West said.

Some lawmakers in the hearing still displayed the persistent gap in technological know-how between Washington and Silicon Valley. Lindsey Graham, Republican of South Carolina, repeatedly asked witnesses if a speech liability shield for online platforms like Facebook and Google also applies to A.I.

Mr. Altman, calm and unruffled, tried several times to draw a distinction between A.I. and social media. “We need to work together to find a totally new approach,” he said.

Some subcommittee members also showed a reluctance to clamp down too strongly on an industry with great economic promise for the United States and that competes directly with adversaries such as China.

The Chinese are creating A.I. that “reinforce the core values of the Chinese Communist Party and the Chinese system,” said Chris Coons, Democrat of Delaware. “And I’m concerned about how we promote A.I. that reinforces and strengthens open markets, open societies and democracy.”

Some of the toughest questions and comments toward Mr. Altman came from Dr. Marcus, who noted OpenAI hasn’t been transparent about the data its uses to develop its systems. He expressed doubt in Mr. Altman’s prediction that new jobs will replace those killed off by A.I.

“We have unprecedented opportunities here but we are also facing a perfect storm of corporate irresponsibility, widespread deployment, lack of adequate regulation and inherent unreliability,” Dr. Marcus said.

Tech companies have argued that Congress should be careful with any broad rules that lump different kinds of A.I. together. In Tuesday’s hearing, Ms. Montgomery of IBM called for an A.I. law that is similar to Europe’s proposed regulations, which outlines various levels of risk. She called for rules that focus on specific uses, not regulating the technology itself.

“At its core, A.I. is just a tool, and tools can serve different purposes,” she said, adding that Congress should take a “precision regulation approach to A.I.”

[moral-terpitude]

The Dead Rabbit - Part IV

Charlotte was surprised at the view when they arrived at the property that Tommy called home, but also something deep inside her felt welcoming and warm while pulling in the long drive despite the snow around her. Home. The thought popped into her head without her putting it there, but as she thought, it did very much feel like home. The landscaping must be beautiful when the spring came.

She noted the property had its own chapel, as well as two headstones beside it. The residence itself reminded her of a small school. Brick and stately, it was preceded by decorative cement pillars and what she could only assume was a fountain in the warm months.

The archway before the double interior doors was the perfect shelter for Tommy to stand and smoke his cigarette. Charlotte didn’t see him at first as he watched the car come up a drive that must have been over a mile long. When she did spy him, she noted he looked just as dashing in his Levis and navy sweater as he did in a suit.

Tommy finished his cigarette before the car pulled up, and he met her at the car before she had a chance to exit, opening the door for her. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him. He was never much of a hugger but he embraced her graciously, relieved that she had indeed decided to come stay with him.

She welcomed his embrace with an equal amount of enthusiasm. The moment lingered for perhaps slightly longer than it should have before they released each other.

"So," he began as he retrieved her bag from the trunk of the car, closing it gently, before offering her his hand. She placed her hand in his as he led her inside the large wooden doors. "I’ve made some plans for us. Any of which you can veto."

"Okay," she agreed as he sat down her bag and hung her coat for her and continued to lead her through the house.

"I have not yet been out to the horses yet. We could go for a ride if you’d like? I was thinking we could go to the Dia Beacon and then dinner? And whatever else we come across in between. There were some other ideas that weren’t as high of contenders on that list."

They found themselves in a large sitting room, and Charlotte couldn’t help but be enamored by the grandiosity of the house. "Well, what were the things that weren’t high contenders?" She asked with a smile as he poured them each a cup of tea.

"Well, there was clay pigeon shooting, skiing, ice skating, visiting the oldest winery in the United States—-"

"And why didn’t those make the list?" She protested before sipping her tea slowly.

He smiled, "We can go wherever you’d like."

"That winery has been on my to do list for awhile." She admitted.

"Then go there we shall." He agreed.

They sat in a calm silence as Charlotte took in the room. A large fireplace crackled as the clouds outside shifted, casting their long winter shadows around the room. The interior walls were also lined with woodwork. The furniture was relatively antique, and something about the atmosphere all together made her feel completely at ease. She assumed it was a combination of the cold and her company.

She placed her empty cup of tea on the tray located on the small table between them.

"Charlotte," he began as he poured her another cup of tea, breaking their comfortable silence, "Tell me more about you."

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she saw the gleam of true interest in his eyes. She realized the small snippets of their lives they had discussed when they met, were very much not their entire stories. At this point, she knew more about him because she had decided to nosy and pry.

She sighed, unsure where to start, tapping her fingers gently on the teacup. "Growing up, I’m not sure what my dad did for work, really. He was always busy, always working. We were comfortable though. I went to a private school. Catholic school," she cringed at the thought as she took another sip of tea, "I’m sorry, not to be offensive, but it left me with little respect for religion itself. I don’t believe much now."

He nodded, watching her intently. Just listening to her talk, he felt that he could listen to her for hours if he could keep her talking. "I understand. I’ve seen…things that have made me abandon it completely."

She nodded, "When I went to college, I originally majored in Graphic Design and Media Communications, and I enjoyed it, however, I eventually switched to Advertising as it felt to be more of the practical application of that subset of art. In the midst of finishing my degree, my mother passed away from Breast Cancer. Three months later, my father was in an accident. I was 22. Being their only child, everything went into a trust until I turned 25. I lived with my Grandfather, my mother’s father, until I met James. Eight years ago, my Grandfather asked me to take over operating the bar, which I was happy with. I always loved being there as a kid. They would let me behind the bar to wash the glasses and scoop the ice. It was the natural assumption that I would end up with it regardless." She sipped the steaming tea as there was a light knock at the door.

A woman, possibly in her late 50’s, stuck her head in. "Mr. Shelby, I apologize for the interruption,"

Tommy placed the cup of tea on the tray as he stood to face her, "No need to apologize, Harriet, please come in."

Harriet took notice of Charlotte on the couch, but didn’t address her. "I just wanted to relay to you before I leave for the holiday that the straw and feed delivery will be delayed for the horses because of a storm that’s coming through."

"Thank you, Harriet. I’ll be sure to get ahold of them if they aren’t here in a timely manner. Have a Merry Christmas."

"You also, Mr. Shelby."

He returned to his seat, the leather and wood creaking as his weight retuned to it. "I apologize, I thought she had already left."

Charlotte was surprised, but also not, that there was help in the house. When she was young they had had help also.

"Before I moved here, the house was primarily a vacation home for our family. Someone has to take care of something this big while no one’s here. But we weren’t talking about me," he encouraged with a nod, prompting her to continue.

“When my grandfather passed away, he left me the bar and enough money that if the bar went under I wouldn’t be put out. When James…" she let out a sigh and clicked her tongue against the top of her mouth, "yeah, when he was gone, I sold the house and renovated the attic of the bar into an apartment. I couldn’t continue living somewhere that I had been made a victim, so I didn’t. I honestly don’t mind living above the bar. It’s became a comfort to me now and it was convenient when I was finishing school to have no commute to work. It saved so much time. I ended up finishing school with a Masters in Business Administration. So I guess you could say I know a little bit of everything," she smiled.

He enjoyed that she knew how to praise herself without it being pompous. She was a smart woman, there was no doubt in his mind about that.

"Speaking of business, I hope that I can interject now with a question for you," he leaned forward on the chair, elbows resting on his knees as if he was preparing to tell her some great secret.

She nodded, her curiosity piqued as she tried to imagine in what way the two realms of business they both dealt in could possibly overlap.

"The warehouse that is next to your bar, would you be able to put me in contact with the owner? I’d like to purchase it and start putting some plans in motion."

Her brow furrowed as she thought. She couldn’t think of the name off the top of her head. "I know I have a paper somewhere with his name on it, but it escapes me now. When the bar was put into my name, he had to sign the easement on the alley as it is technically his property the way it was divided, but my deliveries have to come through there because of how the building is situated. I know I have it, I just can't remember it at the moment. What are you looking to put in there?"

She couldn’t help but be interested in what he was planning to do with the building. As far as she knew, it was currently vacant. No one was ever in or out of it that she managed to see.

A smile crept across his face as he stood, lighting a cigarette before continuing, pacing in front of the crackling fire as he spoke, "A few years ago, at our family estate, we found barrels of whisky, and gin, as well as vodka that my third great grandfather had made. They’re yet to be opened and we assume them to be somewhere in the 100 year old range. While I was going through some family journals looking for some other information, I discovered the trial and error of the recipes that he had used to make the same contents of those barrels. These things have taken years to find, as at one point, everything had been moved from the house to an intermediary location, before being relocated. It’s been my hope since then to open a distillery, just as he had. I looked at purchasing businesses that were liquidating, or having it produced elsewhere, but I find myself to be rather hands on with projects. So if I’m here, it shall be here, and I want a hand in it."

Charlotte was impressed by his determination and commitment to his family and his heritage. She nodded as she considered his words, "I’ll get his information for you."

"Thank you. Now that that’s out of the way, I believe I have some horses to tend to. If you’d like, I know one of my sisters has left some riding clothes here if you’d like to get changed into something warmer."

She nodded in agreement, and he led her through the house to one of the many extra rooms. She was surprised to find her bag already there and he departed to let her change.

She dug through the closet and found practically everything to be a perfect fit, down to the riding boots. Everything was thermal and warm. The maroon jacket was quilted and light, and the black pants and riding boots appeared to be brand new.

Charlotte left the room, securing her hair in a loose braid as she walked. The house was beyond silent, and the floors creaked as she wandered along them. Lost in thought, she found herself back at the door to the sitting room without realizing she was even headed there.

"Well, don’t you look like you know what you’re doing?" he teased as he rounded the corner.

He was dressed similarly, riding boots, a fairly starched looking pair of black riding pants, a similarly quilted jacket, and the same newsboy hat he had been wearing the night he came into the bar.

“Well, believe it or not, I indeed do know how to ride. I spent most of my weekends growing up in the stables."

He nodded as he led the way out the doors, pulling the silver cigarette case from his pocket as he walked. He offered it to Charlotte, but she shook her head. The cold air already had forced itself into her lungs. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they walked.

"What kind of horses did you have?" The little metal case let out its small click before he returned it to his pocket and procured his lighter.

"We had a few Arabians. A couple of Thoroughbreds. Most of them were Draught horses." Her arm brushed against his as they neared the stone built stable. The ring looked to be rather new, but the stable itself looked weathered and aged.

"Irish?" He questioned as the smoke rolled from his lips. She felt something catch in her chest as she watched him. The sun shifted and found its way under a cloud.

"Yes. My family was originally from Ireland."

He nodded, finishing the cigarette in silence before the reached the stable.

An Irish barkeeper. He chuckled to himself as he tossed the last of his cigarette on the ground, snuffing it out with his boot as he walked over it.

Charlotte felt a shiver go down her spine at the sound of their boots clacking on the cobblestones.

"You didn’t tell me you had Friesian’s," Charlotte exclaimed as the horses came into view.

"This," Tommy spoke as he opened the stall door to reveal the first all black horse, "is Fearless." The horse bowed its head to her as Tommy moved to the second stall door.

"And this," he opened the latch with a loud click and let the door fall open,"is Dangerous."

The winning horse, owned by Thomas Shelby, was named Dangerous, after a horse owned by his third-great-grandfather...

"Do you have him racing again soon?" Charlotte questioned as she ran her fingers through the horse's mane. The words fell from her lips before she had time to stop them.

"Again, soon?" His eyebrow quirked as he repeated her words back to her. She felt that his eyes bore into her soul as he spoke those two words.

The wind whipped through the stable as she paused, breath held, debating how to continue. A pin could’ve dropped and been heard a mile away at that moment.

"Well," she breathed a sigh as she determined the truth was her best path to take, "the internet is a powerful tool, Mr. Shelby. I did research you a bit before coming out here to be with you."

He gave a small nod, running his tongue along his bottom lip. To be with you. The words made something come alive deep in his chest as his eyes traced the curl of her hair, the shape of her jaw, the apple of her cheek.

"Yeah, and what did you find?" He swallowed hard as she entered the stall to retrieve the saddle and put it on Dangerous.

"I’m here, aren’t I?" She challenged as she mounted the horse in one fell sweep. She clicked her tongue twice, and Dangerous vacated the stall without hesitation.

[mercurygray]

@shoshiwrites started this really lovely 'the war ended and we went camping to be together again after the unit broke up' AU and I wanted to hum a few bars. Her OC Jo Brandt appears here by kind permission of the author.

It was quiet, on the beach - Marj took a deep breath and dug her bare toes into the sand a little deeper, hugging her sweater around her shoulders and poking the dying embers of the fire with a stick. There was something beautiful about the quiet - the sound of birds starting to fill the air, swallows dipping and diving over the lake looking for bugs, cicadas singing in the trees and grasshoppers along the shore. It reminded her of home, a little, and not the apartment she shared with Jo and the others. How long's it been since you were near a lake? Last time you went north would have been, what, 40? Or was it 41. You and Dave and Frankie and -

Marj shivered. Yeah, and him too. It would be getting colder, soon, but she wasn't quite ready to go inside yet - not while Jo and Joe were down by the shore skipping rocks and trading secrets.

You can joke all you want about being the responsible one but someone's got to chaperone.

Someone cleared his throat behind her, and she turned away from the fire for a moment. It was the broad-shouldered one, the one they all only called his last name out of habit. Lipton.

"This seat taken?"

She moved over a little on the log to make room. "All yours."

He sat down and made himself comfortable for a moment, staring at the fire and then out at the shore, a half-drunk bottle of beer loose in his hand. "So how did you two meet?" He asked, nodding to Jo as she tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear.

What to say? The truth seemed like a good choice. Lipton seemed like a man who could tell when you were lying. "I was in England, for nine months, with a WAC company - Jo covered my unit, and we got along really well, and we kept up, afterwards, and ran into each other before I was shipped back to the states. I'd…had some changes, in my life, and knew I wasn't going home, at least straight after, and she had a roommate moving out to get married, so…I came home with her and started looking for work."

Lipton nodded. He had one of those easy, placid faces, kind and serious all at once. "That fits. The WACs, I mean - now that you've said it, you just…you fit, with it. The way you stand." It was a compliment, the way he said it - there was a measure of…admiration, in his voice, and not an empty one. Marj allowed herself a little smile. He looked at her, his eyes observant. "Why didn't you say?"

A good question."I don't…usually mention it, around…guys who served. I was just doing a job, same as everyone else. But not everyone sees it that way." It was the truth, even if she didn't like it. And why should she bring it up? Most of these guys wanted to leave their wars behind them. "And you? How'd you end up with these jokers?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Fifty dollars of extra jump pay," Lipton said with a rueful smile. "We all volunteered, and it turns out we all got along really well. Joe and Bill were real close, before…" he ran a hand over his knee. "And Bill and Babe grew up three blocks away from each other, so after the business with Babe's fiance, they decided we needed to get out of town for a bit. I'm between semesters, so Don and I hopped a couple of trains and got in the car so we could drive out here."

"They seem like a real nice bunch."

"Best group of guys I could have found, anywhere. You miss your unit?"

The smile appeared without thinking. "Every day. Got me through some of the worst times of my life." She meant that, but there was something…self conscious, about saying it aloud. "Nothing like what you've seen, I'm sure."

"I don't know," LIpton said with a generous smile. "What's the worst?"

Remember what you just said about lying, Marjorie Gordon. "Getting dumped by letter from two thousand miles away."

Lipton scoffed. "We have that in common, then." He raised his beer bottle as if to toast, and she raised her hand to return his salute. Now, just who the hell would have dumped you, Carwood Lipton? You're about the nicest person I think I've ever met. "Here, you're cold." He shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, the canvas soft from years of use. It smelled like him, aftershave and woodsmoke and comfort, and Marj wilted, a little, under the weight of it, the warmth of the gesture. God, he's really just...like that, isn't he? When was the last time someone had done something like that for her? Come on, girl, you're allowed to get nice things, she thought to herself, watching Jo and Joe again by the shore, the rock skipping mostly forgotten. They fit together, nicely, swaying in a kind of half-dance near the water's edge in a way that made Marj's heart ache a little. And you're allowed to want them, too.

[hakesbros]

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[stagefullofentertainment]

Christmas Time pt. 11

Second to last day till Christmas, folks! I hope that the waiting did not prolong too much. Today is going to be the start of Secret Santa!

Prepare for trouble! Make it double!

To protect the world from cybernation! To unite all peoples within our jubilation!

To announce the funs of lies and gore! To extend our reach to the prize swore!

Alastor! The Author!

Holidays blast off at the speed of light! Indulge now or prepare to fight!

Angel! That's right!

That one was fun! Now, let's get to the real thing, shall we?

It was Christmas Eve. Surprisingly, a lot of sinners celebrated some sort of Christmas amongst themselves. Some exchanged presents, some partied, some remained in solitude. Others only mentioned it as a toast while there were those who didn't care nor celebrated.

Hazbin participated in Christmas activities. Mostly because of Charlie but nobody seemed to argue much. She invited everyone to decorate outside and inside of the hotel. Reluctantly, everyone did their part in adornment of the hotel. All, except for Vaggie, wanted to help Charlie and actually had fun but didn't want to admit that out loud. Vaggie did! Just only in company of Charlie, preferably behind closed doors.

Hotel was shining from different kinds of Christmas lights, sparkles and glitter from tons of ornaments and garlands. Charlie used some of her magic to make it shine more. Alastor also tinkered with the lights. Without saying anybody, he lessened the shine and made it more focused on the hotel's title. He added some more colours but they weren't as bright. Charlie noticed, of course, but remained silent yet thankful.

Somehow Charlie managed to make everyone feel holiday spirit, even though they hadn't celebrated it in decades. All the candles, decorations, fireplace with socks above for everyone, homemade sweets and Charlie's excitement made them feel like a kid again.

Now, she hurried everyone to the main hall, where they had prepared Christmas table earlier.

Charlie: Guys! It's Secret Santa time!

She was wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with strange Christmas tree on it. Vaggie stood beside her, having put on a simple green dress and, matching Charlie, Christmas tree earrings. Husk walked out of his bar with a green, red and golden bow tie. Niffty quickly stepped to the table from the front door where she was admiring decorations. She changed her usual outfit into an ugly sweater with snowballs and green skirt. For no apparent reason, it made everyone besides her and Husk laugh and nobody explained why.

From the second floor stairs descended Angel, rocking a red Santa's outfit inspired dress with white fluff around edges. Of course, white knee high boots were a must. Not long after him, Alastor showed up. He didn't change his everyday wear at all, much to Charlie's dismay.

Charlie: C'mon, Al! Where is your festivity?

Alastor: I am perfectly festive, thank you.

Angel: Not even a single accessory?

Alastor: No! I am fully content.

Charlie: Please, at least put a Santa hat on.

Alastor: Ha! No!

Vaggie: *Snickers* Right, can you imagine this gloomy overlord being jolly? I can't.

Alastor: Is that a challenge I'm sensing?

Vaggie: No, just a fact.

Alastor: You know, it is not nice to offend others on this special day.

Vaggie: I am not, I'm just stating the obvious.

Angel: Yeah, ya vibe killer.

Alastor: A what now?

Angel: *Laughs* Too long to explain.

Vaggie: So, will you be dreary today or will you man up and put something cheery for Charlie? God, that sounded awful.

Angel: *Starts laughing hard* Nice one, Vags!

Alastor: *Glares at Vaggie* Fine! You win this battle.

Alastor snaps his fingers and the ends of his jacket grow white fluff around, similar to Angel's dress. His jacket also widens in the end, looking like a large Santa like coat. Ends of his pants also get that white fluff. He changes his gloves' colour to white. Resentfully, Alastor takes the hat from Charlie and somehow manages to put it on his antlers.

Alastor: Is that enough for you?

Charlie: Yes! You look so good! We need to get you a beard and you will look like Santa Claus.

Angel: Yass, slay, Santa Alastor!

Alastor: I won't be getting those, don't be foolish.

Once again, Alastor looks around confused while everyone snickered. When their laughter died down, Charlie invited them to the table for gift exchange. Everybody took out their gift bags or wrapped presents while Charlie and Alastor emanated theirs from air it seemed but it was just their magic.

Charlie: Are you ready?

[oliteeshirt]

Welcome to Olitee Shirt

We are a online t-shirt company based out of that seeks to create the best and unique shirt, hoodie, sweater, tank top,.. Fresh and unique shirts from our brand always make you stand out and attract others. It will give you fit and comfort. You can be completely satisfied with the price, material and design of the shirt. Our shirts are easy to coordinate with other outfits so you don’t have to spend a lot of time choosing what to wear.

Address: 2054 Florida St San Diego CA 92104, United States

Website: https://oliteeshirt.com/​

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Olitee-Shirt-106621232192303

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Oliteeshirt​

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkJZuIS3OlpgIuLru3qDyQA

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/oliteeshirt/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/Oliteeshirt/

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/olitee-shirt-a97458250/