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thecapricunt1616 · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2 The Bear & His Honey

Chapter Inspo: Quote - "The only heaven I’d be sent to, is one where I’m alone with you." Summary: (18+ ONLY FIC) Carmy gets heated in the kitchen, makes Winnie lunch, & Meets the famous Sugar. A/N: Heyooo!! I am so proud of myself for like not having writers block and actually continuing a fic I started LOL! I think this one is longer than the last, like 7k characters or smth. I can't make promises abt. when I'll post next, but I can try to make it this week! I hope you're all enjoying so far. Warnings: Swearing, Yelling, smut, alcohol, tad angsty if you can even call it that, and then just overall feminine yearning!! ***As per usual; Reblogs, Likes, Comments, & Constructive Critiques are not only welcomed, but much appreciated! Without further ado, here we go! Woooo!***

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Chapter 1 Here

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I followed him in to the screaming, bustling pit that was his kitchen. “BEHIND!- Jesus Christ, Tina, watch it - I said Behind! Should I just drop this, huh Chef?!” Someone cried out, the intensity of the atmosphere causing my chest to tighten as if clawed hands were achingly squeezing ever so slowly around my lungs.

“Gosh” I muttered, trying my best to take everything in, every sense of mind becoming slightly overwhelmed. Carmen briskly showed me to his small office, the insanity of his kitchen not even strumming a nerve for him it seemed. He showed me to a desk covered in too many papers in the corner, before thumbing through them until he found what he was rummaging for. “Ah! Yes. Here we go!! Alright. You look at this” he turned to me, handing it over.

“With that big-booky-brain of yours, sure you could figure some changes to make the dishes sound extra special ‘mm?” He mused. I glanced over the piece of printer paper, nothing more than a piece of plain white paper adorned with dish names and descriptions of them followed by pricing.

“Uhh…sure thing. ‘M not that smart, slutty books about muscley guys with wings and mind reading abilities only get you so far…” I said jokingly, my eyebrows furrowing as I my eyes glaze over the intricate ingredients I’d never heard of.

“Alright, uhhh.. you’re gonna have to go more into detail about what you’re getting up to at the bookstore when I get back” he teased and closed the door to the office behind him as he headed to the kitchen.

I continued reading over the ingredients, adding an appetizing verb here and there, hoping that was what he was looking for. I lean on my hand, looking over the other papers on the desk. Mostly food shipment orders, different labor receipts, jumping in my seat a bit when I hear a huge crash and what sounds like a bunch of aluminum clattering.

“FUCK, JESUS! ” Carm yells, his voice booming through the kitchen and it was suddenly silent, as if every single thing stopped. “How many times have I told you guys, do, NOT leave empty FUCKING pans ON THE EDGE OF YOUR GOD DAMN STATION. Everyone look over your FUCKING station, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW - if there is an something that needs to be washed- it goes IN THE SINK. NOW. Move!”

The only response is a chorus of “Yes Chef!”

“Marcus get the fuck over here deal with this these fucking sheet pans!” He barks. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat, contemplating if I should just grab my purse and go. My eyes flick to the door when I hear the handle, and Carmen walks back in, his face a bit flushed from his outburst I’d assume.

“Hey” he said casually and smiled a bit, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He was holding a plate that honestly, looked amazing. “So, not chilli, so sorry, but- we do have Mac salad, and then this fire pork stew type deal, oh, and your onions, and a burger, and a hot dog- feelin frisky today, Winnie?” He puts the plate in front of me with a soft smile.

All tension I was feeling vanished like sand between my fingers. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I look up at him. “And my ketchup?” I asked and he rolled his eyes, taking the ketchup and mustard bottles from his apron and setting them down in front of me. “Sorry, your majesty.” He teased.

I take the ketchup, squeezing a good amount over the top. “I guess… I am feeling frisky” I said, doing the same with the mustard. “Yea? You reading up on more winged muscle man porn while I was out there?” I laughed as I cut up the hot dog and burger on top, a real laugh. Not something someone could usually drag out of me since my brother. But for some reason, Carmen seemed to be very good at it.

“Ohhh yeah. I was just all spread out here on top of your desk rubbing one out - the yelling you were doing really did it for me. Finished right before you came in.” I teased with a feline smirk, watching as his cheeks heated slightly. “Yeah- sorry about that” he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh- Marcus he just left all these fucking pans and Syd ran right in to them - keep tellen ‘em to put shit where it goes.” He sighed a bit.

“No, no, no need to be sorry. A book store and a kitchen are 2 very different places to work, just glad everything’s alright” I took a bite, my eyes widening at the amazing flavor. It definitely wasn’t home, but that was okay. It was fucking amazing. I bring my hand up to my mouth to cover it as I speak, unable to wait another second to tell him.

“That? Is Fuuucking heat dude. Wow.” I said swallowing and immediately going for more. “Really? You are…unbelievable” he chuckles, sitting back with a small smirk on his lips. “No you are unbelievable, Chef, great work. 5 stars on yelp” I giggle and he shakes his head rolling his eyes in amusement.��

“Why thank you, your review is valued” he gets up and leans in. I swear I feel my heart stutter in my chest when his chain brushes my temple as he reaches around me and grabs the menu I had been scribbling notes on for him. I could smell the musk of his cologne, a bit of tobacco from his cigarette, and a tinge of salty sweat from being in such a hot kitchen all morning. It was intoxicating. I wanted to bury my nose in his chest and just inhale, I could get drunk off the scent. “Sorry” he said softly, sitting back down and looking at the menu.

My cheeks had to be on fire, and I’m sure if his chain grazed my face again, its icy touch would sizzle at the contact. I swallow the bite I had forgotten about in my mouth when he was so close and look over at him. He was still looking over the menu, eyebrows raised slightly, “mm, like that” he mutters, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

“Wow, look at what your slutty books taught you, ‘opulence to the core in your mouth’ hmm? What were they describing?” He smirks, his eyes meeting mine. I swear I could burst into flames and be left as nothing but a pile of ashes. I can’t remember a time that I’d been so melted by the attention of a man.

“Uh-“ I stutter, clearing my throat, trying to rack my now empty brain (other then that pesky vision buried deep, of him rage fucking me over his desk. Sending waves of soaking warmth to my core, so strong I’m more petrified of the vision of me getting up and his chair being wet with my arousal) “Oh, you know…” I trail off with a shrug, my gaze finding my plate again and taking another bite to avoid embarrassing myself any further.

“Well, I just may have you edit these more often little miss vocabulary” he continues reading over. “I like this, exactly what I wanted. Thank you” he smiled softly, setting the paper down on the desk. Our hands brush, and goosebumps immediately rose everywhere from my shins to my jaw.

I look over at him, to find him looking right back at me. “This is…like so good” I said to take my mind off the ache growing between my thighs and he grinned. “Glad you like it. Swing by anytime I’ll make one for you, on the house of course. Gotta make sure we treat our official menu editor well” he rested his hands on the top of his curls with locked fingers. His biceps looked much more pronounced this way, the tattoos I hadn’t been able to see on the back of his arms making an appearance.

He looked as if he was a fucking statue, a Greek god carved from the masterful hands of Myron. He is beautiful. He has such a strong nose, a muscular jaw and neck, god his fucking neck. Those veins, I can imagine when he gets all fired up they protrude powerfully. I trail back up to his nose, god that fucking nose. My core clenches around nothing at the sudden dirty image of messily riding his face comes to the front of my mind, his beautiful blue eyes darkened in lust due to his blown out pupils, his beautiful sexy nose nuzzling my bundle of nerves, my arousal dripping down his neck and chest as he drinks up all he can. Flushed at the Hollywood porno in my mind, I quickly shut it out like slamming a door and my eyes flick to his beautiful blues, a satisfied smirk on his blush pink lips.

“What?” I questioned, my cheeks growing hotter. “Mm. Nothin’. Enjoying the view or somethin’?” He questioned and I look at my plate. “No- I mean, well” I stuttered, picking up another bite and putting it in my mouth to avoid the confrontation as it had worked for me shortly before.

He playfully smacks a hand over his heart “wow!” He said earning a giggle from me “here I am, slavin’ over the stove like a damn housewife for you to make your- whatever the hell - and you have the gaul to insult me!! In my own restaurant at that!” He feigned offense, a real smile adorning his features, eyes crinkled, dimples on proud display.

“You’re cute! There. Is that what you wanted, Carmen? Your ego stroked a little? Awww, Carm, you’re such a handsome little boy” I laughed, leaning in and pinching his cheek playfully. He rolled his eyes, swatting my hand away with a grin. “So you only go out with guys with wings, that it?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Wow!! Look at you, big player!” I gently kick his clog with my boot “you askin’ me out?” I asked, my heart picking up speed once more. “No, I just asked if your preference is a buff dude with wings. But since you mention it, sure, I’d love to go out with you. Thanks for the offer” he teased, a pesky smirk on his lips.

“Wooow!” I drew out and laughed. “Wow!! Big sexy muscle man can’t ask a girl out, hmm? Need to trick her in to asking you?” I took a sip from the water bottle I’d brought in my bag. His cheeks heat, raising his eyebrows he says “well I’m no big sexy muscle man, I’m just ahh…how did you put it?” He asked.

I leaned in, gently adjusting the pendant of his chain to face front and center again before resting my hand on his chest, palm flat, and feel the heavy thump of his heart when I speak again “a very handsome little boy” I said softly, my eyes flicker to his lips as he gently tugged his bottom one between his teeth. “Mm” he hummed, I felt the vibration under my hand. “That was it. Yeah” he said just above a whisper, his voice richer, deeper, like the dark chocolate cake described on the dessert menu.

The door flies open and I jump back in my seat, resuming eating as naturally as I could manage. “Bear! There you are, Jesus Christ. Since when do you take breaks? The fuckin’ glassware company left three boxes of cocktail glasses off- three Carm!” A very loud blonde storms in, dropping her large purse in a slump at my feet and kicking it under the desk like I wasn’t even there.

“Sorry,” she gives me a sympathetic smile “just restaurant shit.” She looks back at him “who did the order?” He asks. “Syd!! I told you, Carmen, you are putting too much on her plate right now! Stop being such a jagoff” she pushes his arm gently “and fucking divide the work!! Fuckin- fuckin’ teach Manny how to order!! I don’t know!” She said exasperated and frustrated.

“Sugar I’ll call them, I’ll fix it, I fucked up.” He admitted with a sigh and rubs his face. “Yes. You did. And you better fix it. Or else how in the fuck are we gonna do your stupid little house cocktail on family night in three days?!” She asked, holding up 3 fingers and waving them in front of his face as he shook his head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He muttered and ran his fingers through his curls. “Sorry should I-“ I grabbed my purse from the back of the chair and motioned to the door “ahh fuck. Ye’ I’m so sorry I-“ he blinks hard, thinking.

“What time do you get off?” He asks “5:15 usually” I said and got up, my plate of food mostly gone. “Shit…uhh..” he rubs his chin in contemplation. “Can you swing by at like- 10? If not, it's totally fine, we- we can have a drink? If you want..” he offered. I nod, a soft smile gracing my features. “Sure thing, I’m a night owl anyway. See you at ten, Chef, thanks again for lunch, it was great”. But before I leave the office, I lean in and whisper in his ear.

“Be a good, handsome little boy while I’m gone. No more yelling over dropped trays, mm?” I rub my hand over his bicep giving a gentle squeeze and my eyes flicker to his lips, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly, bright red flushing his cheeks. “S-see you at ten” he stuttered in reply. I shut the door behind me, giggling quietly to myself as I hear who I now knew as ‘Sugar’ saying “Where’d you meet that pretty thing?”

Read Chapter 3 Here!

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 11 months ago

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The First Motorhome!

Remember when things were so much simpler? The Ford House-Car Q-dog

This is one of only six Ford House-cars said to have been made per year in the mid-30's at the Ford plant in St. Paul, Minnesota, according to an article in a 1993 "Old Cars" magazine.

Very few others - perhaps none - remain on the road and certainly not in such amazing original condition!

When discovered in a garage under a heavy cover in northern Minnesota in August of 2001, it had only 19,000 miles on the odometer and the owner's manual was still in the glove box in like-new condition!

The RV had always been garaged and treated with much 'TLC' as a collector vehicle.

The all wood lined interior was still the way it appeared in the '30's complete with framed photos of the original owner on his travels, mainly to Florida, and his cabin in the North Woods. It also had other memorabilia from that era.

The Ford House-car was built on a '37 Ford Pickup frame and cowling and was powered by a 60 horse power, flathead V-8 with aluminum heads. The rear framing is all wood, with the metal skin wrapped around it. The roof structure is all wood over which the heavy, waterproofed canvas top is still very securely fitted. The structure of the body is solid, appearing to be all oak hardwood and it's still in a remarkably unaltered, undamaged condition! The door frames are thick, solid oak as are the window frames although those have been painted over.

This House-car was a big hit at this campground once we got that great old 'flattie' V-8 hummin'! Note the expanding roof (it's that 'extra' roof piece barely visible in the picture) and the original dark green color, which has been repainted. All four side windows open while the back one tilts out in three positions. The windshield also tilts open at the bottom for 'natural' AC while driving. Here are a few shots of the Ford House-car on the road...

Here's a look at the interior.

It's a slice right out of 1930's just as the original owner had it. All the windows have curtains for privacy and there are pull-down shades on the back window, as well as on the driver's and passenger door windows. Note the wide storage cabinet under the bed.

The wood headliner gives the 'cabin' a warm and inviting rustic feel. You can also see it has a ceiling vent and the canvas expanding roof portion visible in this picture. Four wood pieces securely support the expansion when it's in the 'up' position, while clamps secure it when it's down while traveling.

Note the cedar branches hanging in the corners to give the cabin a natural, north woods aroma. Cabinets and the aluminum sink, that includes a wooden cover insert, are visible on the left. All the antiques inside, as well as on the walls, came along for the ride. Also note the collapsible table behind the driver's seat.

It's amazing how simple vehicles were back then! No computerization to be concerned about!

#Ford House-Car Q-dog #Ford House-Car #Ford #motorhome #motor home

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trivialbob · 3 months ago

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Work Notes

Working from home for so long made me sensitive to hearing others when I'm in the office. It's not surprising when I'm more used to the soothing sounds of snoring dogs or a running dishwasher. A few men in the office need to use their indoor voices. Oddly, the two loudest guys sit next to each other, amidst a sea of empty desks. Each must be hard of hearing. The office has some private cubicles (called focus rooms) with full walls and doors. I need to try one sometime, though I like sitting at the open desks by to the large windows.

Yesterday I emailed a brief question to my workaholic coworker, noting that there was no rush to answer me. Surprisingly, he promptly replied. But it was to tell me he's "swamped" and would get back to me soon. Knowing his inbox is always overflowing, I didn't send anything else.

30 minutes later he replied that he hasn't yet had time to fully read my email. Another hour passed and he sends a similar email. I quickly replied "Okay, no hurry."

More time passes, and he sends me an instant message, then another, stating he should be looking at my email soon. Towards the end of the day he gave me a nice, simple answer that took less time to type than all those emails and instant messages took to send. If he ever wonders why he's busier than everyone else I have an answer for that.

The new-to-me office building has a really nice cafeteria. The food is excellent, the prices reasonable and the employees friendly. Food trucks usually parked outside are decent, but more expensive than the cafeteria. I don't like waiting in the cold for my food either.

I'm going to keep riding my bicycle to the office a few days a week until there is snow on the ground. I don't mind cold weather riding; I have good gear that keeps me warm.

A few years ago I used to ride even when there was snow on the ground. I'm smarter about that now. Also, the snow and salt corroded a lot of non-aluminum parts of that bike. I don't want to do that to my current bike.

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gatheringfiki · 1 month ago

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The following ficlet was written by @anglophiletraveler based on this photoset.

DarkHawk, Rating unknown

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3.

Fishing for Romance

—

Ross Poldark was trying to get reception on the old radio in the workshop. It was older than he was but on good weather days it still managed to get good reception. But today when he was trying to get a weather report, it was all static no matter how many directions he moved the antenna with the ball of aluminum foil on the tip.

“Shite! I don’t know why I don’t replace this piece of shite,” he complained.

Ross’s assistant, Jenni Martin had been sitting at the workshop table all day working on crafts for Ross’s store. She looked out the window and could see the dark clouds rolling in. She looked at the weather app on her phone like most people do these days, “Ross, it says it’s going to rain for the rest of the night, and by the look of those clouds, I’d say it’s going to start soon.”

Ross looked up from the radio wondering how Jenny knew the weather prediction, “Oh, right. Well, I better drive you home before it gets bad. You can work on that stuff Monday.”

“Okay sounds good. I’ll just put this stuff away,” Jenni began putting the materials away that she had been working with to make ornaments for Ross’s Christmas store. It was just the end of September but she had to work ahead since she was the only one that worked on items to be sold at the store that Ross had at Nampara in addition to the Christmas tree farm that had been in the family for years.

There was thunder rolling overhead which caused Ross’s black lab Garrick to bark and whine. “Oh Garrick quit being a baby. Jenni, I’m going to put Garrick in the main house and then I’ll meet you in my truck, yeah?”

“Yeah, I won’t be long.”

“C’mon Garrick, let’s get you in the house before it starts pouring,” Ross put the lead on the dog and ran out the door with him. Garrick was still just a puppy so he didn’t quite trust him not to run off just yet.

Jenni smiled at the dog, “Bye Garrick!” and made her way quickly to the truck before it started to rain.

Unfortunately, Ross got caught in the rain on the way to the truck. He shook his dark, wet curls like a dog and started the truck. “Right, let’s get you home before it really gets bad.” Jenni Martin was the daughter of Zacky Martin, an old family friend of Ross’s. She did seasonal work for Ross to help get the Christmas tree farm and the store ready for the holidays, but Ross had been giving her extra work since she was in the family way now and her fiance’ Jim, hadn’t married her yet. The only bad thing about employing Jenni was that she didn’t have a car, so Ross oftentimes had to take her home. But Ross managed not to grumble about it since the Martin home was just six or seven miles down the road. When he saw Jenni buckle up he thought to himself that it wouldn’t be much longer before she’d have trouble buckling the seatbelt. He wisely decided that wouldn’t be a good thing to bring up.

Before long the winds were whipping around, pulling the autumn leaves down from the trees, limbs coming down everywhere. “Christ! I can’t believe the early storms that we’re having this year. The rain is almost blowing horizontally!” Ross hissed.

Jenni looked nervous watching everything blow around, “I’m sorry Ross!”

“No, don't be. I really hope with your crafts and your mother’s canning, that we can pull in some extra customers this year. That kind of stuff seems to be what customers want in addition to the trees. Oh bloody feckin hell, I hope this storm doesn’t tear the trees down!”

“Could that happen?” asked Jenni.

“It’s always possible in weather like this. Shit! Do you feel that wind? That’s bloody crazy!” Ross had to stop when a big wind gust just about knocked them off the road. “Are you alright Jenni?”

Jenni had one hand on her pregnant belly and one hand on the dashboard, “Yes, yes I think so. Are you okay?”

Ross shook his head, “Right, we’re not that far from your house. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. It just scared me a bit.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Ross started back up again. He could see the Martin house from where they had stopped, so it wouldn’t be much longer.

***************

When Ross pulled in the driveway of the home of Zacky and Paula Martin, he heaved a sigh. Zacky came out of the house with a raincoat for Jenni. He opened Jenni’s door and handed it to her to wear as she ran to the house. “Ross, you should come inside and wait out the storm.”

“No, I’ll be alright. Garrick’s at home by himself and I don’t want him tearing things up. It was a bit dicey getting here though. I had to stop at one point because of a wind gust.” Ross was practically yelling so that he could be heard over the rain and the wind.

“Are you sure? You wouldn’t be a bother,” Zacky said.

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks though.”

“Alright. Be careful.”

Ross shook his head in response and backed out of the driveway after Zacky shut the door.

The wind had tamed down a bit, but the rain was still coming down. At least it was more vertical than it had been earlier. The windshield wipers were beginning to squeak and the left one had a tear in the rubber now so it was annoyingly flopping around. Ross just shook his head at it, “Of course. Why the fuck not!” he grumbled.

Ross was thinking about his trees, wondering what kind of shape they would be in by the time morning dawned. He was worried about some of the younger trees and their ability to withstand a storm like this. His mind started wondering back to when he was young and walking the fields with his father while his father tended to the Christmas trees, showing a young Ross what to look for when looking for possible diseases on the trees. He snapped out of his memories when he saw some lights flashing in front of him. When he got closer, he realized that it was a car in the ditch so he pulled over to see if he could be of some help. He grabbed a torch out of his glove compartment and opened his door. He’d given up on staying dry so he didn’t even pull up the hood on his jacket. He flashed the torch into the car to see if anyone was in it, and found an older woman on the driver’s side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Ross was yelling through the window.

“No, just scared, I think. I tried calling for help but I can’t get any reception on my mobile,” the woman was trying to talk above the noise of the rain pounding the roof of her car.

Ross looked down the road to see if there were any other cars passing by, and of course there were none. He looked down at the car door on the woman’s side and saw that it was dented pretty badly. “Can you open the car door?” he asked.

She tried opening it but it didn’t budge, so Ross tried to pull it open but it still was jammed. He walked over to the passenger side of the car and was able to get in from that side. He kept the door ajar so that it wouldn’t jam on them. “My name is Ross Poldark, I just live down the road, you passed it on your way here.”

“Oh, the Poldark Christmas Tree Farm! Yes, I remember seeing it. My name is Ruth Hawkins, thank you for coming to my rescue!” By the sunny smile on her face you would never be able to tell that the woman was stuck in a rainstorm.

Ross didn’t recognize the name, but she apparently recognized his. “Look, why don’t you come with me back to my place. There’s no use sitting in this car out here. I doubt if we will be able to get a tow lorry to come out in this weather. Do you live around here?”

“Oh I just moved in with my sister to help take care of her. She lives on the other side of Sawle, maybe you know her, Julie Richards?”

Ross thought for a moment, “Oh yes, I know Mrs. Richards. Her husband was a solicitor before he passed away.”

“Yes, that’s right. My goodness, everyone knows everyone around here!” the sunny woman observed.

Ross chuckled, “Yes, that is very true. Look, let’s get you out of this car and we can continue this discussion back at my place, right?”

Ruth laughed, “Now that is the best offer I’ve had in a long time!”

Ross raised his eyebrows at her and laughed heartily at her comment.

*************************

Ruth was getting a good look at Nampara while Ross took Garrick outside to hopefully do his duty. The main room was beautifully decorated with manly but tasteful touches. The furniture was beautifully worn chocolate leather. On the walls were paintings of various local scenes that she recognized from her short time in the area. On the piano she noticed family pictures but she didn’t see any of a wife or girlfriend. The kettle whistled, so she fixed her and Ross some tea.

Ross and Garrick came in through the back door to save on muddy paw prints.

“This is a beautiful home Ross. Have you changed it much over the years?”

Ross accepted a cup of tea from Ruth, “Ah thank you. Oh that tastes good. Well, I’ve changed things a little. At first I didn’t because I thought I should keep it as my parents had it, but my cousin convinced me that now that it was my home, I should make it more of my own. So I started changing a few things every once in a while. I think the main thing was to make the windows on that far wall larger to let more sunlight in. It was alway so dark in here, and that helped a lot. And of course I changed up the furniture some. Are you hungry by any chance? I have some stew that I could heat up for us. I know I’m starving.”

“That sounds lovely. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I’ll just put the pot on the stove and heat it up.”

*************************

“Oh my goodness Ross, this is delicious! I’m very impressed,” Ruth remarked.

Ross chuckled, “Well, the compliments go to my cousin Verity. She’s constantly worried that I’m not eating, so every once in a while she brings over food. I couldn’t get through to my friend that has the tow vehicle, so I’m thinking that you should just stay here for the night. I have a couple of spare bedrooms upstairs and you’re more than welcome to stay in one of them. I’ll call Paul again in the morning and see what he can do with your car.”

“Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

Ross dished out more stew for his guest, “It’s not putting me out. The weather is still super crazy, and like I said, I have two spare bedrooms upstairs. I might even have some sweats that you can sleep in.”

Ruth took a drink of her tea, “Well, if you’re sure. Hopefully my phone will work and I can let my sister know so that she won’t worry about me.”

The two exchanged pleasantries throughout the meal and got to know each other. Ross learned that Ruth used to run a pub farther north, but moved in with her sister to help her since she’s had a stroke. She also has a son that is a chef and runs a food truck at different places. Ruth learned about Nampara and the history of mines in the area that Ross’s family used to own. The tree farm began about 40 years ago as a side venture to earn the family some extra money, but began to grow into a full time job as the years went on. Ross took over running the farm after he returned home from the army after his father had passed away. Ross couldn’t believe how easy it was to chat with Ruth. He wasn’t usually one for opening up like he was doing, but she just seemed so genuinely kind and understanding.

Ross was just about to take the last bite of his stew when Ruth asked him a personal question, She looked in Ross’s hazel eyes and said, “Ross, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you by any chance gay?” The words just rolled off Ruth’s tongue as if she was asking someone to pass the salt. However, Ross choked on his bite of stew, which really isn’t easy to do.

Ross finally cleared his throat but he still wasn’t sure how to answer the question, “Umm… I uh.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that my gaydar doesn’t always work.”

Ross didn’t know the woman sitting across from him to know if she was genuinely asking him the question, if she was about to proposition him or if she was pulling his leg. He sat there watching her finishing her stew and finally decided to answer her question. “Well, it just so happens that yes, I am gay. Is that a problem for you?”

Ruth finally put down her spoon, “Oh good heavens no. Are you seeing anyone?”

Ross’s eyebrows raised for the second time in less than five minutes, “Um, if we’re going to have this conversation, I need something stronger to drink. I’m going to have a beer. Would you like one or maybe something else? I have some red wine, some whiskey…”

“Oh, I’ll have a beer, love. Thanks!”

Ross smiled at his guest as he got up from the table to retrieve two beers from the fridge. He removed the cap and handed the beer to Ruth, “Would you care for a glass?”

Ruth smiled up at her host, “Oh no, I’m fine with the bottle.”

Ross shook his head as he cleared the dishes away and put them in the sink before he sat down again. “You know Ruth, I’m beginning to think that you’re a little spitfire! You’re not afraid of too much are ya. And the answer is no, I am not seeing anyone.”

“Oh no I’m too old to be afraid of anything. But I am awfully happy to hear that you’re not seeing anyone. It just so happens that I have a very handsome son who is also single and gay. And I think the two of you would make the perfect couple! He’s just a little shorter than you, and has the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen…”

Ross interrupts Ruth with a loud, beautiful laugh with his head leaning back with a huge smile revealing his set of beautiful, white teeth.

Ruth was laughing along with him, “Ross, are you laughing at me?”

He was laughing so hard by now that he was holding his sides. “Yes! Bloody fucking hell Ruth! That is the last thing I expected to come out of your mouth! I can say that this is the first time in my life that a mother has ever tried to fix me up with her son. Bloody hell! You’re a trip!”

“What! I just want the best for my son, and you certainly are a handsome devil with those gorgeous curls of yours and those sparkling eyes. And Jim has the most beautiful blonde hair. He takes after his father, God rest his soul. You’d be the perfect couple! And look at your hands! You have the most beautiful hands!!”

Ross started laughing again, “My hands? What the hell are you talking about Ruth?”

“Here give me one of your hands and I’ll show you,” Ross was giggling now but he gave her his right hand. She held it in her palm and started running a finger in the space between his thumb and his index finger, “There you see this area? It’s called the anatomical snuffbox because this is the place that people used to hold their snuff before they inhaled it. And your snuffbox area is so very, very nice, and nice long fingers. Not every man has a sexy hand like this, but you’ve got it. My husband had it also. That man had beautiful, sexy hands. You have long fingers. Do you play the piano?”

Ross looked at this woman in amazement. If he wasn’t gay, he would probably make a move on her. “Uh yes, but not for a long time. My mother taught me. And no I will not play for you. Have you been able to get in touch with your sister yet?”

“Oh yes, I did. Just in time actually before my phone went dead. Do you have a charger that would work on this phone?” Ruth asked.

“Here let me see your phone. Ah unfortunately not. It seems you have an older model,” the lights blinked off and on, “Oh that’s not a good sign. Perhaps we should retire for the evening before the power goes out.”

Ruth yawned, “Oh yes, it has been a rather long evening. But I’m so glad that I was able to meet you, and maybe one of these days when Jimmy is in town, I’ll introduce the two of you and then you can become my son-in-law!”

Ross let loose another full on laugh, “You don’t give up do you?”

Ruth was smiling back at him, “No I do not, especially when it comes to my son’s happiness. Mark my word, you two will get along beautifully! A mother knows these things! I’d show you his picture if my phone was charged.”

The lights blinked off and one again. “Well, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. Let me show you to the guest rooms and you can choose which one that you’d like to sleep in.”

Ruth yawned again, “Oh my goodness, please forgive me for yawning. I assure you it’s not the company. But a bed does sound wonderful at this point.”

“Good. I’m a bit tired as well.”

************************

The next day was sunny, beautiful and bright with the more familiar warmth of autumn. One would never have guessed there was a big storm last night if it hadn’t been for some tree limbs laying around. Ruth had wanted to go down to the beach to see what the ocean brought in, so after breakfast Ross took her down to Nampara Cove for a walk.

Ruth had a great big smile on her face, looking up towards the sky soaking up the warmth of the sunlight. She held her arms out and twirled around like a young girl.

Ross shook his head and smiled at her. He loved her zest for life.

“Wow, just look at all of this stuff that washed up on the beach!” Ruth bent over and picked up some driftwood. “Do you know how much money people pay for this? It’s crazy!”

Ross was picking it all up, “Really? People really buy it when it’s just free on the beach?”

“Oh yeah, especially people in the cities. They pay a fortune for this stuff, and sea glass, sea shells and even rocks.” She picked up a rock and was looking at it.

Ross was looking at all the driftwood he picked up, “Do you think that people would pay for it if I had it for sale in my Christmas shop?”

“Maybe. It’s hard to tell. Folks around here might scoff at it, but if you get some tourists they might buy it. What else do you sell in the shop?”

Ross sighed, “I’m not very good at the shop part, but I have a couple of people working on making some crafts to sell, and once the trees are close to being ready to sell, We will make wreaths, grave blankets and roping.”

“Sounds nice. Why don’t you take me into your shop and let’s have a look, yeah?”

Ross chuckled, “Yeah.”

*****************************

Meanwhile along the road where Ruth left her car, Officer Paul Daniel was standing near the car talking to his brother Mark who ran the tow lorry business. Ross had called them the night before so they knew what was up with the abandoned vehicle.

Mark was hooking the car up to his lorry when a food truck pulled over to the side of the road. Paul looked at Mark, “Did you order something to eat?” “Nah, not me mate.”

The brothers stood watching a long haired blonde gentleman step out of the truck.

Mark asked his brother, “Who is that?”

Paul shook his head, “No clue. Not seen him around these parts.”

The gentleman hurried over to look at the car, walking all around it, “Excuse me officer, but I believe this is my mother’s car. What’s happened? Where is she? Is she alright?”

“Can I see some ID sir?” Paul looked at the ID, “Right Mr. Hawkins, is your mum Ruth Hawkins?”

Concerned blue eyes looked at the officer and then the gentleman with the tow lorry. “Yes, yes that’s her? Where is she? Is she hurt?”

Paul handed him back his ID, “Oh no, she’s fine. Ross Poldark found her last night with her car off the road in the middle of the storm that we had ‘ere last night, so he took her home with him.”

Jim Hawkins had a shocked look on his face, “You mean a complete stranger took my mother home? To his house?”

Mark finally spoke up, “Well yeah, what did you expect him to do, let her stay in her car overnight by herself? That wouldna been very safe!”

Jim rubbed his hand over his face, “Well it’s not very safe for her to go home with a stranger!”

“Oh Ross isn’t a stranger, everybody knows him!” Mark smirked.

Jim furrowed his brow and shook his head, “Well, I’m sure he’s a stranger to my mum!”

Paul spoke up to reassure Jim, “Look, you must not be from around here, but Ross Poldark is a very upstanding mate. He would never hurt anyone. As soon as he got your mum back to his place, he called me to let me know what happened, and she spent the night at his place. You actually passed it on the way here. It’s the Christmas tree farm about two miles down the road. My brother Mark ‘ere, is goin to tow her car in and see what he can do about getting it fixed for her. Don’t worry about yer mum. Around ‘ere everyone knows everyone and we look out for each other. So if you turn yer food truck around and head back that way, I’m sure you’ll find her safe and sound at Ross’s. Here, take me card and I’ll write Mark’s number on it too so you can get back in touch with him about the car. Right?”

Jim looked at the two brothers and realized he didn’t have much choice about the matter so he took the card, “Alright, thank you. I guess I’ll head back down the road to the tree farm then.”

Jim got back in his food truck and headed back the other way, mumbling and cursing wondering what kind of place his mother had moved too. He spotted signs for the tree farm so he knew he was close. What kind of a business is a tree farm anyway? he wondered. Can’t make much of a living off of something so seasonal, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. He couldn’t imagine his mother just going home with a complete stranger. Jim thought he must be in his 70’s with grey hair and a long shaggy grey beard, with a limp in order for his mum to trust him.

He saw the circle drive for the tree farm and pulled in. He turned the ignition off and got out looked around. He was heading up to knock on the front door when he heard a loud shriek coming from the direction of the barn that sounded an awful lot like his mum. He took off running and he barged through a barn door to find his mum laughing with a very attractive man.

Ross and Ruth jumped at the intrusion, “Jimmy! What the hell are you doing? I taught you better manners than to go barging into someone’s home!”

Jim was standing there breathing heavy, hands on his hips, looking at the scene in front of him, “I uh, I heard you screaming and I thought you were being attacked or something, so I came running. Are you alright?”

Ruth looked at Ross and then back at Jim and started cackling. She walked over to her son and gave him a hug, “Oh baby of course I’m alright! Ross here has been taking good care of me.”

“Well, I’ve been calling your phone, and I called Aunt Julie and she told me that you had an accident last night but you were okay. She didn’t say anything else. And then this morning I found your car and a policeman with a tow truck driver were at your car and… Christ mum you scared the shit out of me!!”

Ruth put her hands on his cheeks, “Oh love I’m just fine! My phone is dead and I don’t have my charger with me. Let me introduce you, Jim, this is Ross Poldark. Ross, this is my son Jimmy.”

Jim held out his hand to Ross, “It’s Jim, not Jimmy.”

Ross returned the hand shake with a big smile, “Pleasure to meet you Jim. I assure you that I’ve been taking good care of your mother.”

Jim was looking a little leery at this Ross Poldark. Definitely not what he was expecting, “Thank you, I appreciate it. Now mum, are you ready to get back to Aunt Julie’s?”

Ruth gently pulled her son closer to Ross, “Oh Jimmy, what’s the hurry? Ross was just showing me his Christmas shop and some of the items that he is going to be selling when he opens up to sell his Christmas trees! I was trying to give him some ideas of what other tree farms back home sell, you know, like the Wilson tree farm, do you remember? Hot chocolate, sandwiches, ornaments, oh and Ross they even had a small petting zoo.”

“Well, that wouldn’t work since I don’t have any small animals. And as far as sandwiches go, I don’t know how I would do that, plus run the tree part of the farm. I can’t do both things at the same time. And I really don’t know anything about food.” Ross was trying to get a good look at Jim without being too obvious. His mother was right, he did have the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen. And his hair was a beautiful shade of honey blonde. It was pulled back in a man bun so he couldn’t tell how low it actually was, but he wouldn’t mind pulling out the hair tie and letting it all fall. Then his eyes found the beard. A gorgeous reddish blonde beard.

Ruth noticed the way Ross was checking out her son and it made her grin, “Jim, how about if Ross finishes giving us a tour of the farm before we go to your Aunt Julie’s?”

Jim looked at his watch, his impatience showing, “Alright, might as well. I won’t make it back in time for the lunch crowd now. So, you have a tree farm.”

Ross could hear the flatness in Jim’s voice and could see the uninterest in his body language. Ross sighed, “Look, if you don’t want to have a look around, I’m not going to force you. I understand you have things to do, so do I.”

Ruth squinted her eyes at her son and gave him a dirty look. Jim saw it and knew he was in trouble. He readdressed Ross, “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’d love to have a look around. I’ve just been worried about my mum. I’m sure you know how that goes.”

Ross sighed, “Actually, I don’t know. My mother died when I was 12.”

“Oh shite, I’m sorry. You must think I’m a real wanker.”

Ross gave him a small smile, “Maybe, but I’m over it.”

“Fair enough. So how do you make a living on just Christmas trees?” asked Jim.

“Well, I don’t. I also have an apple orchard on the other side of Nampara, and I also have some rental properties that have been in my family for years. The same families have rented from me for years so they’re pretty self-sufficient so I rarely have anything to worry about with those.”

The three were walking around the farm while Ross and Jim were talking about the businesses.

Jim had an idea, “You know Ross, you have these apples in your orchard, why don’t you sell apple dumplings in your Christmas store? Or the apple cider that you have pressed. That would probably sell pretty good.”

“Well, like I told your mum, I can’t really sell something like sandwiches or apple dumplings, while working the tree farm part at the same time. Jenni Martin works for me selling some crafts, but she’s going to have a baby and I think she’s due around Christmas,” Ross said.

Jim smiled at Ross, “Well, it’s something to think about. So mum, are you about ready to go?”

Ruth wrapped her arm in Jim’s on one side, and then took Ross’s arm on the other side, “I suppose. Ross, it’s been so lovely meeting you, and I can’t thank you enough for rescuing me. You’ve taken such good care of me, hasn’t he, Jimmy?”

Jim smiled, “Yes, mother he has. Thank you again Ross. I’m sure she was a handful to deal with.”

Ross finally let out that beautiful laugh in front of Jim which caused him to catch his breath, “Well, she certainly has kept me on my toes. But it’s been wonderful having her around to laugh and chat with.” Ruth gave Ross a wink.

Ruth spoke up as if she had forgotten something, “Oh Jimmy, you’ll never guess what I found out about Ross!” Both men furrowed their brows at her. “Well, Ross is gay! And he’s single and not seeing anyone!”

Jim stopped dead in his tracks with a horrified look on his face, “Mother! I can’t believe you just said that! How would you even know such a thing anyway?”

Ross was laughing at the mother and son.

“Oh love, it’s alright, " I asked him, because I just don’t trust my gaydar. Sooo Ross is single and you’re single…” Ruth couldn’t hide her glee.

Jim was exasperated, “Mother you just can’t go around asking strangers if they are gay! I’m so sorry Ross. I had no idea she did this to you.”

Ross started to speak when Ruth cut in, “But he isn’t a stranger. Not anymore.”

Ross started to laugh again.

“Don’t encourage her Ross. She will only get worse.” Jim couldn’t help but notice those hazel eyes that were shining with laughter now. And those almost black curls seemed endless. He noticed that Ross also had just the right amount of stubble. It made him wonder about the rest of his body hair. Jim loved a hairy chest. Jim cleared his throat, “Mother I think it’s time we let Ross get back to what he was doing before you hijacked his home. Thanks again Ross,” this time when Jim shook Ross’s hand, he looked him directly in those whiskey coloured eyes.

And Ross starred right back at those blue eyes, “My pleasure Jim. Come by anytime.”

“Good-bye Ross,” Ruth said.

Ross looked at her with a bright smile, “Bye, love,” and he kissed her hand.

***********************

Jim and Ruth were about half way home when her phone rang, “Oh hi Julie. Yes we’re almost home. Yes, everything worked out! See you soon sis!”

Jim looked at his mother like he was going to kill her! “So Ruth!” Jim called his mother by her name when he was upset with her, “I thought you told me that your phone wasn’t working, that it wasn’t charged.”

“I did? I don’t remember saying that, love. Hmmm you must be hearing things,” she gave him a wink.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you wreck your car on purpose just to find a man for me?”

“No, of course not. That was all just fortuitous, I would never do that,” she said.

“Oh but you would pretend that your phone wasn’t working because you knew that I would come get you, and then would just happen to meet Ross,” Jim was steaming now.

“Oh Jimmy calm down. Ross is a very nice boy, and you haven’t seen anyone since you broke up with that posh boy.”

“First of all Ruth, Ross isn’t a boy, he’s a man, secondly if I need your help finding a man, which I don’t, I will let you know. I am perfectly happy being single, and I’m not interested in dating anyone.”

Ruth put on her sad face, “But Jimmy, he’s sooo handsome, and he’s soooo tall, dark and handsome! Plus, he has his head on straight. Just take him out for a spin vroom vroom!”

Jim shook his head as he pulled in his aunt’s driveway, “I can’t believe you! Why can’t you believe that I’m happy with the way my life is?”

“Because even your Aunt Julie can tell that you’re lonely, love.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “For Christ’s sake, am I the main topic of conversation between you two sisters?”

Ruth shrugged her shoulders, “Well, not all the time, just most of the time. Are you coming in?”

Jim shook his head, “No, I need to get going, I need to pick up some supplies for the truck.” He reached over and kissed his mum goodbye, “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Okay, sounds good. Don’t work too hard. Love you sweetheart.”

“Love you too mum.”

****************************

It was late in the evening and Jim had felt uneasy all day after dropping his mother off at his aunt’s house. He just felt jittery and spastic and couldn’t focus on the new menus that he had been working on for his food truck. He decided to lay down and try to fall asleep. However, his mind kept wandering to Ross and those sparkling amber eyes that lit up every time his head fell back when he laughed. Oh Lord, that laugh. He was tossing and turning. Finally, he decided to sit up in bed and started jotting down figures for how much it would cost to make apple dumplings, with free apples from the apple orchard that Ross owned. He could probably get away with selling a dozen and a half the first few days until the word got out about them, then he’d have to double how many he made. He also worked on a menu of items that they could sell from the food truck. It would need to be wholesome food but also have an interesting twist in it to keep people coming back for more, but also something that didn’t cost an arm and a leg to make. Fish tacos maybe? He knew Cornwall was famous for their pasties…maybe he could do something with pasties. He started to yawn, and rubbed his face with his hands. He decided to climb back in bed, maybe he can sleep now that he’d gotten some of his thoughts down on paper. Jim opened his eyes, Did he have a moustache?

**********************

It had been a week or so since Ruth was Ross’s houseguest, and had met her son. Ruth had become a frequent visitor at Nampara, and was helping Jenni with making more inventive crafts than had been done previously. The two women got along beautifully and Ross enjoyed their laughter throughout the day. It reminded him of when his mother was alive and would have girlfriends over to play cards or have guild meetings for church. There hasn't been much laughter at Nampara since she died.

Ross hadn’t heard anything from Jim, which disappointed him. He had hoped that Jim would’ve called him by now. He thought that there had been a brief moment between the two of them. He turned around and looked at Ruth. Could Jim be waiting for Ross to be the one to make the first call? He looked at his watch. It was half past two, so the lunch crowd wherever he is at should be done by now. Should he do this? Maybe he’s seeing someone? No, Ruth said he was single. He found himself walking to the house so he could have some privacy to make the call.

He dialed the number and started pacing in the living room.�� Finally on the fifth ring Ross heard “Bistro Bites on Wheels my name is Jim, can I help you?”

Ross was stunned at first by the way Jim answered the phone and couldn’t speak.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

“Uh, yeah, hiya Jim, this is Ross Poldark.”

Jim just about dropped his phone when he realized who it was. He cleared his throat, “Ross! Hello! How are you?”

Ross held the phone out from his face so he could take a breath, “I’m good, good. How are you faring these days?”

Jim smiled. He thought he could hear some nerves in Ross’s voice, “I’m well. I’m actually glad that you called. I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you.”

“Oh really? What about?”

“Well, since we met, I’ve been thinking about ideas for your Christmas shop, and how to help drum up more business. I think I have a few ideas that might work.”

“Interesting. Well, I was calling to see if you’d like to come over for dinner some night. Maybe Saturday?” Ross’s nerves had calmed.

Jim smiled, “That sounds nice. I’d like that very much. What time?”

Ross was beaming now, “How about seven?”

“Seven it is. Can I bring anything? A bottle of wine? Or a dessert?”

“Oh dessert would be good!”

Jim chuckled, “Yeah? Anything in particular?”

“Chocolate. Something chocolate.”

Jim laughed some more, “Okay, white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate?”

“Yes!” was all Ross said in return.

Jim thought it was cute the way he answered him, “Okay the guy likes his sweets! I’ll see you in a couple of days!”

Ross sighed, “Would I scare you off if I told you that I can’t wait?”

Jim tilted his head, “No. No, you wouldn’t.”

After they hung up, Ross realized he forgot to ask Jim if he likes fish, so he texted him back.

“Hey, um, do you like to eat fish?”

“Lol, of course!”

“Wait, r u doing the fishing yourself?”

“Lol well I hope to catch them. It’s a benefit of living on the coast. But if I don’t I’ll be prepared to fix something else.”

“Would u mind if I came fishing with u? It’s been years since I’ve gone fishing.”

Ross was stunned that Jim would want to go fishing, “Sure, just bring an extra set of clothes in case you get wet.”

“I can do that! Thanks!”

“I’ll listen to the weather report and text you on what time to be here.”

“Sounds good.”

🐟🐟

*****************************

Saturday finally arrived and Ross was a wee bit nervous. It had been a couple of years since he had dated anyone, and What the hell was I thinking in having him to the house for supper on the first date! Christ Poldark what are you doin’! He was mumbling to himself at the fishing shack that stood near the grassy entrance to Nampara Cove. It had been there since he was a young teenager when his da built it there because he was getting tired of running up to the barn for whatever he needed to go fishing. Being that close to the shore, the shed looked older and more weathered than the other outbuildings on the property. Inside was everything someone would need for fishing, nets, rods, reels, tackle, lanterns, even a table set up to clean the fish so that it wouldn’t dirty up the kitchen in the house. Ross went outside to get two poles ready for him and Jim to use, making sure that the lines are clear of any knots or snags with the proper weights and hooks on them. Garrick was having fun sniffing around on the ground like he was a great hound dog. Ross smiled at the puppy playing around. He hadn’t had a dog in ages, and somehow this dog came into his life, and much to his surprise, was enjoying having the dog around. “Right Garrick, I think I’ve got these poles ready. We should be all set to go when Mr. Hawkins arrives. C’mon boy lets get up to the house for now.”

They didn’t have to wait long before they saw an older range rover pull in the drive and Jim got out carrying something that looked like it might be a cake. Ross waved at him and went over to the vehicle, “Hiya! I guess I was expecting a food truck to pull up!”

“Hello. I don’t like to drive the truck around if I’m not planning on working. It draws too much attraction. So, how’s your day going?” Ah, he does have a tache Jim observed. He held up the cake when Garrick came over and started doing his puppy growl at Jim and barking at him, sniffing his legs, “Garrick get over here. Garrick no!” Ross yelled at the dog. He walked over to get the dog away from Jim, “He won’t hurt ya, he’s just a pup. Shall we go in the house?”

Jim laughed at Garrick, “Sure. That way I can put this down so this little fella doesn’t get into it.”

Ross opened the door for Jim and they went inside. Ross showed him the kitchen so he could set the dessert down away from a prying nose. “So what is this?”

Jim raised the cover on the dessert and held it up to Ross’s eye level.

“Holy fuck did you make that!?” Ross was practically giggling with the thought of eating this cake.

Jim laughed, “Why yes I did Mr Poldark! It’s called a tuxedo cake. When I asked what kind of chocolate you liked, it seemed like you couldn’t determine which one you liked the most, soooo I made something with all three. It’s layers of espresso and chocolate cake, white chocolate mousse, dark chocolate mousse and a milk chocolate ganache. Do you approve?”

Ross’s eyes were the size of golf balls, “Do I approve? Hell yes I approve. Can we just eat this and forget about supper?”

Jim was cracking up at Ross, “No, you promised that we could go fishing. And I brought a change of clothes like you advised. So I’m ready to go anytime you are.”

“Alright, alright. I’ve got the poles ready down at the shack. I’m hoping that between the two of us we can catch four or five bass. This time of year it can be iffy on what you reel in. But like I said, I do have a plan B if we don’t catch anythin.”

“And what is your plan B?” asked Jim.

“I have some steak marinating just in case,” Ross grabbed a baggie with come cut up potatoes in it along with some seasoning.

Jim noticed that he was gathering up some utensils and a spatula and some oil, “Uh, can I help carry anything?”

“Sure. Can you grab that cast iron skillet?”

Jim was furrowing his brow, “Where are we taking all of this stuff?”

Ross smiled at him, “To the beach of course.”

********************************

The sun was shining down on the two men as they were casting their lines out into the sea. Ross knew of the perfect spot for them to hopefully catch their dinner.

Jim’s face was beaming. He hadn’t been fishing since before his father died. “I had forgotten how much I enjoy this. It’s been too long. Do you get to fish very often?”

Ross cast his line with the ease of an experienced fisherman, “Not too much this time of year, but in the summer I try to come out once or twice a week.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Do you always catch fish?” Jim asked.

“Not always, but enough that I can keep quite a bit in the freezer. Verity likes to come over for dinner when I’m cooking some.”

Jim’s brow furrowed, “Who is Verity?”

“My cousin. She lives at Trenwith. We’re pretty close, she’s more like my sister. Hey watch your line I think you’ve got a bite!”

Jim fumbled with his rod, trying to remember what to do. He could feel on his line that he definitely had a bite. He jerked his rod back in an attempt to hook whatever was on the other end.

Ross was smiling watching Jim. He could tell he was a little rusty, “There ya go, reel him in! Let’s see what you’ve got!” Ross put his rod down and grabbed the net so he could go over and help Jim pull the fish in.

Jim was letting out some happy yelps while he was reeling his fish in. His eyes were as big as a kid’s on Christmas morning, “Holy shit I’ve got one! Bloody hell!”

“Yeah ya do! I’ll grab him with the net so we don’t lose him!” Both men were now at least ankle deep in water in all of the excitement. Ross was able to get the fish in the net and walked back to shore with it.

Ross was grinning at Jim, “Well look at that! You caught the first fish of the day!! Good on ya! He’s a nice one too. He’ll make some good eatin’!”

Jim couldn’t believe it! “Wow that didn’t take long at all! That’s a bass isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah, a nice bass. Do you want to take him off the hook or do you want me to do it?” Ross asked. “I know it’s been awhile since you’ve done this.”

“Yeah you better do it. I don’t want to mess it up and lose the fish.”

Ross demonstrated his technique in getting a fish off the hook to Jim and then put the fish in the bucket of water that he had at the ready, and then rinsed his own hands off in the water. “Now James, put some bait on that hook and the line in the water!”

Jim gave Ross a strange look, “James! Nobody has called me that since… my father was alive.”

Ross saw the serious look on Jim’s face, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m fine. We better get our lines back in the water so we can catch our supper.”

About an hour later they had caught enough for supper, so Ross started a fire to cook on. The late evening sky was becoming darker as the sun set on the horizon of the sea. Jim had been running around on the beach with Garrick, but was now sitting next to the fire watching Ross start to cook supper. Garrick was curled up as close to the fire that he could get sound asleep, snoring away.

Ross was chuckling at the dog, “I think you’ve worn him out!” He dished up some cooked potatoes and fish and handed the plate along with a beer to Jim.

“I don’t know if I wore him out, or if he wore me out. Thanks mate, this looks delicious.”

“Be careful that you don’t burn your mouth,” Ross dished himself out some food and settled down to eat.

The men had been chatting off and on all day about their lives, how they grew up, where they went to school. But now they fell into a comfortable silence while they ate and watched the water and beautiful sky.

“Oh my heavens Ross, this is fucking delicious! I haven’t had food this good in ages. Mmmm, the seasoning is perfect. What did you use?”

Ross was smiling, “Oh it’s very French, it’s called salt and pepper! I’m glad you approve!”

Jim laughed, “You dick. Ya know, I think this is the first time that I’ve ever eaten on an open fire like this. You live a very charmed life Ross Poldark. Wonderful food, wonderful home, beautiful beach and that sunset is incredible. I could get very used to this.”

Ross was staring at Jim while he was talking. His blues eyes were sparkling even in the darkness, and when he laughed the lines at the corner would show which only added to his beauty. Every once in a while his nose would scrunch up in the most adorable way. At some point, Jim had taken his hair down out of the bun and there was just a slight breeze that was blowing it lightly across his cheeks. Ross sighed, “Mmm, I could as well,” he said while looking at Jim. At first Jim didn’t catch on to what Ross said, and then he looked up at those gorgeous hazel eyes and smiled.

Jim cleared his throat, “So, I didn’t tell my mother about our date here today.”

Ross laughed at that little bit of information, “I didn’t either!”

Now Jim was laughing, “Good! Because if she found out, she would be here right now taking pictures of us together, saying ‘I told you so’.”

Ross laughed some more, “I can totally see that happening with her, but God I love her and her spirit. She’s so different from how my mum was, which isn’t to say my mum was a prude or anything, but she could be very proper.” He was silent for a moment, “I still miss her. Even after all these years.”

“I think that’s normal. I still miss my father. And you’ve lost both your parents. That’s rough. I know when Ruth… “ he got a lump in his throat and didn’t finish his sentence. Ross put this hand on Jim’s for some understanding. Then out of the blue, Garrick jumped up and started yelping, and running in circles.

“What the hell?” Ross said, and then he started laughing at the poor dog when he realized that he had a crab attached to his tail! The two men got up to help Garrick out. Jim held him still while Ross pulled the crab off his tail. As soon as Ross released the crab, Garrick took off running, both men laughing at the site!

Ross looked down at the laughing Jim and couldn't help but grab his face in his hands and leaned down for a kiss. It was a tender, chaste kiss. Ross finally pulled back, leaning his forehead against Jim’s, “I’m sorry, I’ve been wanting to do …” Jim pulled Ross down for another kiss, this one full of passion. Jim licked Ross’s lips causing Ross to open his mouth for Jim’s tongue to enter, eliciting a moan from Ross. The men couldn’t help but stand there kissing, with hands exploring each other. Finally Jim pulled back, panting, “Dessert?” Ross could barely speak. He shook his head, “Yeah.” He quickly doused the fire with the water from the bucket, yelled at Garrick to come join them, then grabbed Jim’s hand to pull him towards the house. Jim looked back at the skillet and the cooking utensils and plates, “What about the skillet…” A breathless Ross just kept pulling Jim, “Fuck it. I’ll come get it tomorrow.” Jim laughed.

****************************

As soon as they got through the door, both men were throwing off their coats not caring that they ended up on the floor. Jim had Ross pinned up against the wall next to the kitchen door so hard that one of the pots fell off its hook. Ross moved his head to the side to give Jim more room for whatever he wanted to do to him. Ross couldn’t help but moan. “Jesus Jim, it’s been so long for me.” Jim chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” They both chuckled, but then Ross noticed that Garrick was attempting to get up on the counter for the tuxedo cake, “Fuck, Garrick get down!” He went over and put the muddy puppy in his crate. He turned around and found Jim’s hands on his hips pulling him close.

Jim just stood and watched him, “Do you want some dessert?”

Ross raised his eyebrows, “Only if you do?”

Jim gave him a devilish grin, “I want you Ross.”

Ross raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah. Prove it!”

****************************

The two men were sitting up in bed naked feeding each other the dessert and coffee, Garrick laying on the bottom of the bed watching the food go back and forth just hoping a piece drops for him.

Ross was thoroughly enjoying the chocolate, “Mmmmm this is the best dessert I have ever had in my life. You are a god among chocolate!”

Jim laughed at that, “Well I wouldn’t go that far, but it is pretty damn good if I may say so myself!”

Ross lifted an eyebrow, “Really? Well, I say it’s… orgasmic..” then he fed Jim another piece followed by a kiss.

Garrick let out a whimper and a huff, and started crawling closer to the lovers. Ross frowned at the dog “Garrick don’t you even dare! Get back!” The pup barked at his master.

Jim laughed at the scene, “I see he really listens to you! So what do you think of my idea of the apple dumplings and the food truck on the weekends during tree season.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt anything to try it out. Maybe advertise it a bit so that people know about it.”

Jim fed Ross another bite of the cake, “Did you know that mum’s got big plans for your craft area? She does really nice work with centerpieces and greenery.”

Ross chuckled, “No, I didn’t, although I’ve seen her and Jenni with their heads together about something. I have a feeling that I’ve lost complete control when it comes to those two. I really don’t mind what they do as long as there’s someone there to sell it, so I can concentrate on helping people with the trees. Will you lose business by having the truck out here on the weekends?”

Ross set the empty plates and cups on the end table and snuggled more into Jim so he could run his hand through the golden curls on Jim’s chest.

“No, I’m not worried about it. I’ll be making money here. Besides, it’ll put me closer to you on the weekends,” Jim leaned in to press his lips against Ross’s, ensuring the heat was reignited.

“Oh fuck Jim, I want you so much.”

“Prove it.”

*****************************

It was the second weekend of the holiday tree season and business was hopping at the Poldark Tree Farm and Bistro Bites on Wheels! People were lined up at Jim’s food truck for the apple dumplings and other special items that Jim had for sale. And the new and improved craft shop was buzzing with activity as well. Ruth even brought her sister in to help out where she could. Ross was working his arse off keeping up with all of the customers. Some were return customers, but he’d also noticed some new faces. After they were closed for the day, Jim was counting out his cash drawer, while Ross was doing the same. They were both all smiles.

Ross was shaking his head in disbelief, “I tell you what Ruth, I think from now on I’m going to consider you my lucky charm. Business is really booming this year thanks to you and Jenni and all of your hard work, and of course Jim’s truck has added a lot.”

Jim came over and gave Ross a kiss on his head, “See I told you those dumplings would work. And they don’t cost much to make.”

“Well, business was okay before, but I could tell that the other Christmas tree farms with all of their extras were starting to cut in. Jenni, I’m going to have to ask Jim for some extra help with the trees,” Ross said.

Ruth chimed in, “I think the best part of being a lucky charm is seeing you two boys together!! A mother’s intuition is always right. I think we’re going to be hearing wedding bells soon, don’t you Jenni!”

“Mother!” Jim yelled.

#Gathering 12 Days 2024 #DarkHawk

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theinfamousdoctorf · 2 months ago

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HOLY SHIT

SO>>>> I heard a distressed chicken noise outside my window around midnight. I went out in the dark to look because we've had problems with things attacking them recently. [All three of the neighbor's dogs had something cornered under our porch in the middle of night last week and there was blood on the ground in the morning.] I found some feathers and one of the roosters was missing from the coop. But I didn't see anything. I made a circuit of the house even though it was raining to be sure. A little while later I heard it again and ran out again with my phone for a flashlight. I heard one of the dogs higher up on the hill on the road but didn't see anything. Still raining , covered moon, just the barest light outside. I heard it again around 5am and lost my shit, I grabbed an aluminum pipe from the pile of junk inside the front door and looked out the front. Nothing and no sounds apart from rain.

So I went to the back door of the laundry room on the opposite side and looked out there.

Something in the yard ran at me out of the dark and I hit it with the fucking pipe as hard as I could.

I felt it connect and reverb up my arm and there was no noise so I don't think it was one of the dogs. They usually don't rush at us. I was so freaked out I darted back inside and slammed the door. It took me a good ten min to calm down. I thought I was gonna have a fucking heart attack. There's nothing out there and I have no idea what it was. O_o

#personal #I could hear the rooster once it got light so he's someplace in the yard

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mariacallous · 11 months ago

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The phone or computer you’re reading this on may not be long for this world. Maybe you’ll drop it in water, or your dog will make a chew toy of it, or it’ll reach obsolescence. If you can’t repair it and have to discard it, the device will become e-waste, joining an alarmingly large mountain of defunct TVs, refrigerators, washing machines, cameras, routers, electric toothbrushes, headphones. This is “electrical and electronic equipment,” aka EEE—anything with a plug or battery. It’s increasingly out of control.

As economies develop and the consumerist lifestyle spreads around the world, e-waste has turned into a full-blown environmental crisis. People living in high-income countries own, on average, 109 EEE devices per capita, while those in low-income nations have just four. A new UN report finds that in 2022, humanity churned out 137 billion pounds of e-waste—more than 17 pounds for every person on Earth—and recycled less than a quarter of it.

That also represents about $62 billion worth of recoverable materials, like iron, copper, and gold, hitting e-waste landfills each year. At this pace, e-waste will grow by 33 percent by 2030, while the recycling rate could decline to 20 percent. (You can see this growth in the graph below: purple is EEE on the market, black is e-waste, and green is what gets recycled.)

“What was really alarming to me is that the speed at which this is growing is much quicker than the speed that e-waste is properly collected and recycled,” says Kees Baldé, a senior scientific specialist at the United Nations Institute for Training and Research and lead author of the report. “We just consume way too much, and we dispose of things way too quickly. We buy things we may not even need, because it's just very cheap. And also these products are not designed to be repaired.”

Humanity has to quickly bump up those recycling rates, the report stresses. In the first pie chart below, you can see the significant amount of metals we could be saving, mostly iron (chemical symbol Fe, in light gray), along with aluminum (Al, in dark gray), copper (Cu), and nickel (Ni). Other EEE metals include zinc, tin, and antimony. Overall, the report found that in 2022, generated e-waste contained 68 billion pounds of metal.

E-waste is a complex thing to break down: A washing machine is made of totally different components than a TV. And even for product categories, not only do different brands use different manufacturing processes, but even different models within those brands vary significantly. A new washing machine has way more sensors and other electronics than one built 30 years ago.

Complicating matters even further, e-waste can contain hazardous materials, like cobalt, flame retardants, and lead. The report found that each year, improperly processed e-waste releases more than 125,000 pounds of mercury alone, imperiling the health of humans and other animals. “Electronic waste is an extremely complex waste stream,” says Vanessa Gray, head of the Environment and Emergency Telecommunications Division at the UN’s International Telecommunication Union and an author of the report. “You have a lot of value in electronic waste, but you also have a lot of toxic materials that are dangerous to the environment.”

That makes recycling e-waste a dangerous occupation. In low- and middle-income countries, informal e-waste recyclers might go door-to-door collecting the stuff. To extract valuable metals, they melt down components without proper safety equipment, poisoning themselves and the environment. The new report notes that in total, 7.3 billion pounds of e-waste is shipped uncontrolled globally, meaning its ultimate management is unknown and likely not done in an environmentally friendly way. Of that, high-income countries shipped 1.8 billion pounds to low- and middle-income countries in 2022, swamping them with dangerous materials.

High-income countries have some of this informal recycling, but they also have formal facilities where e-waste is sorted and safely broken down. Europe, for example, has fairly high formal e-waste recycling rates, at about 43 percent. But globally, recycling is happening nowhere near enough to keep up with the year-over-year growth of the waste. Instead of properly mining EEE for metals, humanity keeps mining more ore out of the ground.

Still, the report found that even the small amount of e-waste that currently gets recycled avoided the mining of 2 trillion pounds of ore for virgin metal in 2022. (It takes a lot of ore to produce a little bit of metal.) The more metals we can recycle from e-waste, the less mining we’ll need to support the proliferation of gadgets. That would in turn avoid the greenhouse gases from such mining operations, plus losses of biodiversity.

The complexity of e-waste, though, makes it expensive to process. As the chart above shows, even an ambitious scenario of a formal e-waste collection rate in 2030 is 44 percent. “There is no business case for companies to just collect e-waste and to make a profit out of this in a sustainable manner,” says Baldé. “They can only survive if there is legislation in place which is also compensating them.”

The report notes that 81 countries have e-waste policies on the books, and of those, 67 have provisions regarding extended producer responsibility, or EPR. This involves fees paid by manufacturers of EEE that would go toward e-waste management.

Of course, people could also stop throwing so many devices away in the first place, something right-to-repair advocates have spent years fighting for. Batteries, for instance, lose capacity after a certain number of charge cycles. If a phone can’t hold a charge all day anymore, customers should be able to swap in a new battery. “Manufacturers shouldn't be able to put artificial limitations on that ability,” says Elizabeth Chamberlain, director of sustainability at iFixit, which provides repair guides and tools. That includes limiting access to parts and documentation. “Repair is a harm-reduction strategy. It's not the be-all-end-all solution, but it's one of many things we need to do as a global society to slow down the rate at which we're demanding things of the planet.”

At the core of the e-waste crisis is the demand: A growing human population needs phones to communicate and fridges to keep food safe and heat pumps to stay comfortable indoors. So first and foremost we need high-quality products that don’t immediately break down, but also the right to repair when they do. And what absolutely can’t be fixed needs to move through a safe, robust e-waste recycling system. “We are consuming so much,” says Baldé, “we cannot really recycle our way out of the problem.”

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gaybd1 · 10 months ago

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Things in my Emergency Bag uwu

Flashlight and batteries

Cash and coins

2 weeks of meds

Birth certificate/passport/etc

Change of clothes

Big 5L bag for water

Emergency blanket, pillow, toilet

Disposable cutlery

Plastic wrap and aluminum foil (good for insulation and injuries, making rope)

Masks

Pen and paper

Toothbrushes

Lighter

Rain poncho

Q tips

Knife

Duct tape

Slippers and gloves

Plastic bags

Solar phone charger

Paracord

Whistle

Dog food for my dog

Water

Non-perishable food

Maybe some other stuff, I forgot

I’d like to get a decent first aid kit in there too

Always ready by the door in case of earthquakes or air raids 👍

#tian talks

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sisterspooky1013 · 1 year ago

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Gaslight, Chapter 46/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

They arrive in Blaine, Washington to a drizzling summer rain that runs down the windows of the van in thick ropes. Driving alongside the rocky shore of a mist-veiled bay, Scully feels anxious and impatient. She wants to get where they’re going, but at the same time she’s afraid that something else will go wrong.

“Is that the ocean?” Abby asks distractedly.

“It’s ocean water,” Scully answers, her nerves frayed beyond the point of function. “It’s called a strait.”

“What’s a strait?”

Scully sucks in a breath and Mulder reaches over the console to lay a hand on her forearm.

“It’s a passage that connects two larger bodies of water,” Mulder explains patiently.

“Is that the beach?”

“Yeah, it is,” he tells her, running his hand down Scully’s arm and interlacing his fingers with hers.

“Can we go there?”

“Maybe,” he answers honestly, stealing glances at Abby in the rearview mirror. “We’ll have to see if the rain lets up.”

Scully squeezes his hand and he squeezes back. It’s been a blissfully uneventful final two days of their cross-country drive, but the lack of action has only heightened her constant awareness that the other shoe may still be poised to drop. With the Smoking Man and Diana both dead, they could easily make the mistake of assuming they are no longer in danger, but the project was so far-reaching there are bound to be others who are motivated to kill them simply for knowing what they know. Every door slamming down the hall at a motel, every stranger giving them more than a passing glance, every police car behind them on the highway has her heart racing and her palms clammy, and she just wants to go home and feel safe.

But home is a place she hasn’t been yet, and safe is a concept that feels as foreign as her new identity. She has Mulder, and the kids, and a dog who reeks of river water, and that just has to be enough for now.

Mulder slows and watches the house numbers until he finds the ones that match the address Byers gave them, then pulls into the driveway of a powder blue two-story house situated a stone’s throw from the water. It has the characteristic low roofline and aluminum windows of 1960s architecture, and something about it immediately sets Scully at ease. Mulder kills the engine and looks over at her, watching the side of her face while she takes in the beachfront home.

“Are we here?” Abby asks, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning between the front seats for a better look.

“I think so,” Mulder tells her. “I guess we’ll have to knock and find out.”

Before they have a chance to get out of the car, a door on the side of the garage opens and someone steps out cloaked in an ankle-length, bright yellow rain slicker. Scully feels a little flare of nervousness again as they approach the driver’s side door and rap on the window. Mulder rolls the window down and the person lifts their head, revealing the smiling face of a man in his late sixties with a graying beard and friendly hazel eyes.

“You must be Steve and Lisa,” he says brightly, sticking his rain-soaked hand through the open window for Mulder to shake. “I’m Tom. We were expecting you yesterday and we were just deciding whether we should worry or not, so I’m glad you finally made it. You can go ahead and pull your car into the garage, just give me a second to open it.”

Tom disappears back through the same door, and a moment later the garage rolls open. There’s a vehicle already parked on one side that’s concealed beneath a heavy gray cover, and Mulder pulls into the empty space beside it. The garage door closes behind them, and Scully’s stomach tightens.

Tom reappears, his slicker discarded and his bald head shining under the yellow garage lights, and Mulder steps out of the car.

“This is what you’ll cross the border in,” Tom says, patting the other vehicle. “She’s got B.C. plates and is already registered under your new pseudonyms.”

The men continue to talk as Abby and Scully watch. Frenchie jumps over the middle seat and forces her head between Scully’s seat and Abby’s waist, and Scully can hear her tail thumping against something.

“Who’s that guy?” Abby asks.

“He’s going to help us get to our new house,” Scully says. “He seems nice, doesn’t he?” She says it just as much to reassure herself as Abby.

“How come he doesn’t have any hair?”

Scully laughs and reaches up to touch Abby’s cheek.

“I bet he’ll tell you if you ask him.”

Peter whines from the back seat.

“Y’okay, Bear?” Scully asks, craning her head around to see him.

“Frenchie’s hitting me with her tail,” he complains, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looks around, confused by the change in their surroundings. “Is it night time?”

“Nope. We’re just parked inside a garage right now. We’re going to stay here tonight and then tomorrow we get to see our new house. Isn’t that great?”

“I’m sick of driving,” Peter grumbles.

“Me too,” Scully says with a sigh.

She startles when the passenger door pops open, then turns to give Mulder an irritated glare.

“Sorry,” he says with a grimace. “You ready to head inside? I’m gonna take Frenchie out for a bathroom break.”

“Okay,” Scully says uneasily, then adds in a near whisper, “Everything seems okay?”

Mulder nods and squeezes her thigh.

“No alarm bells,” he says quietly.

She pulls in a deep breath and nods, trying to settle her overstimulated nervous system. Mulder gets Frenchie on her leash, then puts on Tom’s rain slicker and disappears through the side door of the garage.

Scully helps Peter out of his car seat and takes each of the children by the hand. Tom is standing in the open door to the house, a warm smile plastered to his face as he waits for them. She wonders how many times he’s done this and for what kinds of people. He certainly seems comfortable enough welcoming fugitive strangers into his home.

“I assume you like dogs since you have one, but get ready for the furry welcoming committee,” he says as he steps aside and allows the three of them to walk into the house. “You’ll be staying downstairs, but let’s head upstairs first so you can say hello to Lea.”

Scully ushers the children up the stairs ahead of her, and as they near the top a cacophony of yips and barks begins to reverberate off the walls. Abby stops and covers her ears, turning to give Scully a wide-eyed look of worry.

“It’s okay, sweetpea,” she says, laying a hand on Abby’s back.

“Lea!” Tom hollers from behind her. The boom of his voice makes both her and Abby jump, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“What?!” a female voice hollers back.

“Restrain the hounds!” he shouts through cupped hands.

They wait a moment, listening to the skitter of claws on hardwood and high-pitched pleas for compliance.

“The coast is clear!” the female voice announces, and they continue the rest of the way up the stairwell.

The smell of grilled onions and garlic fill Scully’s nose, and her stomach growls loudly. The stairs empty into a busy living room full of mis-matched furniture and knick-knacks, nearly every square inch of the bright blue walls covered with kitschy art and framed photographs. One wall of the room is almost entirely windowed, affording a sweeping view of the bay that is currently obscured by the heavy rain.

Tom steps around them and guides the way to the kitchen, where an older woman is standing in front of the stove pushing something around in a pan. She’s stout and well-wrinkled, and her hair is short-cropped and purple. Tom kisses her cheek and she smiles, then turns to look at Scully and the children.

“These are the Davenports,” Tom says. “Well, minus one. They’ve got a lab with ‘em, too.”

“Welcome to our home,” the older woman says warmly, not moving from her station in front of the stove. “I’m Lea. What should we call you while you’re with us?”

“Not your legal names,” Tom interjects. “We prefer not to know.”

Scully lays her hand on top of Peter’s head.

“This is Bear,” she says, then moves her hand to Abby’s head. “And this is Bunny.”

“Well hello, Bear and Bunny,” Lea coos before addressing Scully. “And how about you and your husband?”

Scully resists the impulse to correct her.

“Steve and Lisa is fine,” she says. “Thank you so much for helping us.”

Lea’s smile shifts into something a bit pained that makes Scully’s throat tighten, and she looks away. They hear the snap of a door opening and closing, and then the wet ruffle of a dog shaking rainwater out of its fur.

“That must be Steve,” Tom says, ducking out of the room to show Mulder and Frenchie around.

“You guys don’t like watching TV, do you?” Lea asks the children with a skeptical squint.

“Yes!” they say in chorus, jumping excitedly. “We do!”

Lea reacts as though this is mind boggling information, then sends them into the living room to explore the hundreds of channels on offer via satellite. Scully moves to follow them, but Lea stops her, then gives her a long appraising look.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

Her expression is so open, so genuine, so maternal, that Scully feels as though she could drop to the floor at her feet and tell her everything. In the days since leaving Ellicott City she’s barely had time nor brain space to think about her own mother and how worried she must be, but suddenly she’s overcome with the need for comfort and reassurance, and she finds that she can’t bring herself to lie. Not trusting herself to speak as she feels her bottom lip begin to tremble and her eyes blur with pooling tears, she just shakes her head.

Lea switches off the burner on the stove and walks toward Scully with open arms, a gesture that she would typically not find helpful. But she allows Lea to hug her, and is comforted by relaxing against the softness of her body as Lea pats her back and tells her she’s sorry for whatever they’ve been through. Scully cries quietly, letting tears slip from her cheeks to the shoulder of Lea’s pink housecoat. She feels a hand on her back and turns to see Mulder behind her, the front of his hair dripping wet and a look of alarm on his face.

“Did something happen?” he asks, and Scully shakes her head and wipes her eyes, feeling embarrassed.

“Moms need mothering too, sometimes,” Lea says, giving Scully one more gentle pat to her shoulder before she turns to address Mulder. “Steve, I take it?” she says, offering her hand to shake. “He’s quite sexy, isn’t he?” she adds, looking him up and down, though it’s unclear to whom the comment is directed.

Mulder throws Scully a bemused smirk and shakes the older woman’s hand.

“Lea, I told you to stop sexually harassing the guests,” Tom says in mock seriousness, then gives Lea a slap to her ample backside.

Scully can’t help but smile. She feels safe here. She trusts these people. Mulder wraps an arm around her shoulder and gives her a questioning look and she nods. She’s okay. Okay enough to make it one more day. Okay enough for now.

The rain clears up in the blink of an eye. One minute it’s coming down in sheets, and the next the clouds are receding to reveal a brilliant blue sky and the gently lapping waters of Birch Bay. Lea informs them that dinner will be ready in an hour, and the kids beg to go down and explore the beach.

Mulder looks over at Scully and sees her shoulders slump with resignation. He’s worried about her, but he knows that expressing this sentiment will only result in her making a more concerted effort to hide her exhaustion. He knows this because with each passing day he remembers more and more. The details are still hazy, but the feelings are sharp as knives, some of them cutting so deep he almost wishes they’d stay forgotten. He knows that he’s made many mistakes, and he’s been responsible for her being hurt—both physically and emotionally—many times. The more he remembers, the more protective he feels of her and their relationship.

“I can take them, why don’t you go downstairs and rest?” he tells her, and she immediately opens her mouth to object. “I know you’re fine,” he says, taking the words from her mouth, and she levels him with a deadpan expression, “but did you happen to see the giant bathtub down there?”

He can see that she’s considering it. Her mouth screws up to one side, her eyes slightly narrowed. Lea comes around the corner from the kitchen, a bottle of wine in hand.

“I’ve got about twenty different flavors of bubble bath and a tall glass of shiraz to sweeten the deal,” she says, and the corner of Scully’s mouth quirks. Mulder can tell that she’s fond of the older woman, and he’s grateful for it.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” she says reluctantly, then adds a quiet, “Thank you.”

He kisses her cheek, and is surprised when she follows it by kissing him on the lips right in front of Tom and Lea. He pulls away and looks at her for a beat, and while neither of them says anything, he feels optimistic for the first time in a long while.

The beach is littered with smooth rocks and jagged shell fragments that completely obscure the sand, and there’s a line of dried out seaweed marking the boundary of high tide. Mulder sits on a log with Frenchie beside him and watches the kids as they squeal at dead crabs and throw rocks into the water. Across the bay there’s a long stretch of land with blueish mountain peaks rising up beyond it, and the air smells wet and clean. It’s peaceful here, and he tries to give himself permission to relax.

It’s hard for him to fathom how much his life has changed in the span of a couple weeks. He can barely remember the person he was before and the way that he felt when he thought his life with Diana was one that he chose. As much as his true self felt like a stranger to him when he first reunited with Scully, the version of him that Diana and the Smoking Man created now seems like an apparition. It only reinforces for him how little Diana really understood him, much less loved him. She suppressed the parts of him that are most intrinsic to who he is, and tried to mold him into the man she wanted him to be. It was Scully who sought him out, who reminded him who he is and what he stands for. It was Scully who set him free.

Frenchie rests her head on his thigh and looks up at him with worried eyes. He runs his hand down her back and pats her rump, and her tail thwacks loudly against the log. Scully isn’t the only one who saved him. Despite everything, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

“Daddy, look!”

He follows the sound of Peter’s voice and sees him standing beside a precarious tower of rocks, sticks, and shells as tall as his waist.

“Good job, Bear,” he says fondly, his heart tightening when he sees the look of pride on the child’s face.

A strong gust of wind pushes in off the water and the tower topples over, and Peter lets out a long, agonized whine.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mulder says, wrapping Frenchie’s leash around a jagged end of the log and trotting down to where Peter is pouting over his wasted effort. “You can fix it, I’ll help you. We’ll build it again, okay?”

Peter nods sadly, his bottom lip puffed up and trembling. Mulder crouches down beside him and rubs his back.

“Just start again,” he says, and Peter huffs a sigh before he sets about re-building his tower.

Another strong breeze runs up Mulder’s back, making him shiver, and he’s hit with a wave of deja vu. He looks over at Peter, then to Abby a bit further down the shore, attempting to skip rocks.

Just start again.

He smiles, though he also feels like crying. He is one lucky bastard, there’s no doubt about that.

Lea, unsurprisingly, is a fantastic cook. They sit around a large oval table and watch the sun begin to sink towards the horizon as Lea serves them enchiladas with homemade salsa and cheese quesadillas for the children, as well as strong margaritas with generously salted rims for the adults. Frenchie has integrated herself into Tom and Lea’s pack of four dogs—ranging in size from a chihuahua to a standard poodle—and the five of them sit patiently behind the children, ready to snatch up any dropped food.

For an hour or so, Scully forgets what brought them here. Tom tells them stories of ill-fated border crossings, speaking in thinly veiled euphemisms as he describes discovering a trunkful of dildos in a car being driven by two nuns in full habits. Scully laughs so hard she thinks she might wet herself, and Mulder won’t stop smiling at her.

“Looks like it’ll be a five-star sunset tonight,” Lea observes, her eyes on the horizon and her hand laid over the top of Tom’s on the tabletop.

They all turn and look at the yellowing sky and the way it highlights each layer of the landscape in a different shade of burnt orange. It looks unreal, like a painting.

“See those mountains way back there?” Tom asks, pointing with his free hand. “That’s where you’re headed. The Great White North.”

Scully sighs and slips her hand onto Mulder’s thigh under the table. Close enough to see, soon close enough to touch. Home. Freedom. A fresh start.

“Have you helped many people cross?” Mulder asks, and Tom closes his eyes briefly, nodding.

“Over a hundred,” he says, opening his eyes and looking over at Lea. “You’ll be our last, though. Time to close up shop.”

“Really?” Scully asks. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve been putting off retiring for years so we could keep it going. Seems like the big man upstairs finally decided to force my hand and see to it that I’m needed at home more than I am at the border.”

Lea gives him a sad smile and turns to address Scully.

“A few months ago I found out I have breast cancer,” she says matter-of-factly. “My prognosis is decent, but I’ll need a lot of help after my mastectomy. Tommy’s gonna be promoted to nurse maid.”

“Greatest honor of my life,” Tom says, lifting their joined hands off the table and kissing the backs of Lea’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Scully says, half memories of her own battle with cancer drifting through her tipsy mind.

“I’ve had an amazing life,” Lea says as she stands and begins to clear the table. “If I get another ten years, great. If not, I’m still one lucky bitch.”

Abby gasps and they all look over to see a devilish smile on her face.

“You said a bad word,” she informs Lea cheekily, and they laugh.

Lea takes the children downstairs to show them all the toys they’ve amassed over the years while Mulder and Scully stay at the table with Tom. He retrieves a large manilla envelope from another room and his demeanor shifts from lighthearted and jovial to stoic and serious, which makes Scully nervous. He sits across the table from her and Mulder, the sunset framing his bald head, and puts on a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

“I’ve done this more than a hundred times over the last thirty years, and I haven’t been busted yet. That said, I need you to pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you. I haven’t been busted yet, but that doesn’t mean that everyone we’ve tried to help has made it across. If you deviate from my instructions and something goes wrong, I can’t help you. I won’t risk rotting away in jail while Lea goes through cancer treatment alone to save your asses. I don’t mean any offense by that, but if it’s me or you…it’s me. We clear on that?”

Scully looks over at Mulder and sees him nod confidently.

“Okay. First things first, you can say goodbye to Steve and Lisa. We always set you up with a new identity just before you cross over in case anyone’s been tracking your current pseudonyms or anything went sideways on your way here. You’ll take the Camry in the garage with you tomorrow and leave the van here, and we’ll get rid of it for you. Sorry we don’t have a bigger vehicle; we didn’t know about the dog.”

Tom pulls a set of keys out of the envelope and puts them on the table.

“From here on out you’re Jack and Bella Manningham. The kids are Ruby and Zack. This has directions to your new place, and here are the keys for that,” he continues, depositing another set of keys on the table. “Everything else you need to get started is in here, your birth certificates and all that shit. Passports too, which you’ll need to have ready tomorrow. I’ll take your other documents and shred them. Anything that has details about your previous identities needs to be out of the car and off your person when you cross the border, got it?”

He stops and meets their eyes, one at a time, and waits for an affirmative answer.

“Once you cross over, you’re on your own. You might have other folks you can contact, and whether or not you feel safe to do so is on you. But I’m not going to give you my contact information and I ask that you don’t try to look me up for any reason. I get you over the border and that’s where our relationship ends, capiche?”

Again, he stops to get a clear sign of understanding from each of them.

“My shift starts tomorrow at 8:00 am. I’ll give Lea a call on my break around 10:00 and let her know which lane I’m working. I’m usually on lane four, but every now and then they move me and it’s very important that you go to my lane. If you end up in someone else’s lane, I can’t help you. Could you cross in another lane? Maybe. But I’ve seen your faces on the news, and that means other border agents might have too. You should wait until Lea gets my call, and then head up to the crossing.”

“What if we’re directed to another lane?” Scully asks, margaritas churning in her belly.

“You won’t be,” Tom says confidently. “Get in lane four, and stay in lane four. When you get to the window, I won’t give any indication that I know you, and you should do the same. I’m going to ask for your passports, country of citizenship, and reason for travel. You’re going to tell me that you’re Canadian, and that you’ve been visiting family in Seattle and are headed home. I’ll look over your passports, and then ask you to open your trunk. Use the button in the car to open it, okay? Don’t get out of the car; that will just give better video footage of you to anyone who's looking for it. I’m going to take a look in the trunk, then give you your passports and send you on your way. Do you have any questions?”

“What’s the purpose of checking the trunk?” Mulder asks.

“Makes it look like I’m doing my job,” Tom says plainly, and Mulder nods. “I don’t mean to scare you,” Tom says emphatically, leaning in. “I just need you to take this seriously. Do exactly what I said and you’ll be fine. Okay?”

Scully sits back in her chair and pulls in a deep breath.

“Okay. Thank you, Tom.”

“You bet. Now let’s make some more margaritas and go watch that sunset.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #fox mulder #dana scully #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles #thexfiles

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owenspets · 7 days ago

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Convenient Cat Screen Door for Easy Indoor-Outdoor Access

Let your feline enjoy the freedom to explore with a durable cat screen door. Designed for easy installation, these screen doors provide safe and convenient access for your cat while keeping bugs and debris out. Perfect for homes with sliding or hinged doors, they blend functionality with style. For more details visit our website: www.ownpets.com

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arthistoryanimalia · 1 year ago

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Andy #Warhol was born #OTD (6 August 1928 – 22 February 1987). Here’s a unique life-size portrait of Warhol holding his dachshund Archie by his friend Jamie Wyeth, on display at Brandywine Museum of Art:

Jamie Wyeth (b. 1946) First in the Screen Door Sequence, 2015 Oil on canvas on honeycomb aluminum support with American folk art "found object" construction of wood, metal, screen & hardware Brandywine Museum of Art

“In some of Jamie Wyeth's more recent work he has begun to cross the boundaries between painting, sculpture, and real life by using objects like doors and windows as the starting point of his compositions. He adds paintings, specialty lighting, and other objects to make what is sometimes called an "assemblage" a collection of things brought together to make a single work of art. First in the Screen Door Sequence is an actual wooden screen door that Wyeth found decorated with patriotic stars and stripes. It was already a piece of American folk art when Wyeth added a painted panel depicting a life-size portrait of Andy Warhol holding his dog Archie.”

#animals in art #Andy Warhol #Jamie Wyeth #museum visit #Brandywine Museum of Art #contemporary art #21st century art #2010s #multimedia art #installation art #portrait #portrait painting #dog #dachshund #pet #pet portrait #dogs in art #OTD #birthday post

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tastylemonbread · 1 year ago

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A dog is found in the snow. Its eyes still open, frozen to glass. Who knows how long it's been there. I tell the others at the base and we decide to bring it in, let it thaw and look for a chip or anything that might let us return the little guy to its owners.

The next morning, us six men are chasing after a single dog through our halls. Our footsteps pound frantic and its paws pitter-patter on the floor.

Our medical examiner is, to say the least, perplexed. The dog seems, physiologically, completely normal. It's been with us for two days now, and it seems to like us plenty. I hold the thing in my arms and rub it behind its ears as doc takes a blood sample. It doesn't even seem to notice the needle go in. The big doggy digs its way closer to my chest and licks my face to leave a stench worse than I've ever smelled before.

Our medical examiner tells us it'll be another couple days until we get any result from the blood. Until then, we have to keep putting our canned goods on the highest shelves we can find. The big doggy tears through anything we leave in its reach. We keep stepping on little shards of aluminum the big doggy's left behind from its latest feasts.

I had a nightmare where I was back home. Seeing my childhood dog alive and well. I don't remember much of it, but it ended with the roof collapsing on me. I swear I spent hours under the rubble, unable to breathe, before I woke up to find the big doggy sound asleep with its full weight on my chest. I could have sworn I locked my door that night.

Our medical examiner is, to say the least, completely baffled. Everything he says comes out after a few minutes of stuttering and adjusting his glasses. The big doggy, apparently, is in excellent health despite having been frozen solid less than a week ago. The big doggy isn't host to disease, fleas, or doggy blood. It's blood isn't wolf, not coyote or fox or anything else that may pass for a big doggy. Our medical examiner tells us it's a demon, or at least that's his theory. Nobody seems particularly bothered by this revelation. The big doggy demon just sits with that cute blank look on its face.

The big doggy demon hasn't hurt us, it's barely inconvenienced us. The thing just trots around the base tearing up its food and getting all the pets its little doggy demon belly can handle. It may not be much of a dog, but it's enough of one. I often think about finding it in the snow. It must've been alive, but was it awake? Through those unmoving eyes, could it see me? So long it must've spent in the snow, immobile, alone. Maybe I'm just making stuff up. Either way, I'm glad to have the big doggy demon with us. I bet it's glad to have us too.

#txt #writing tag

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vividracing · 4 months ago

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New Post has been published on https://www.vividracing.com/blog/mercedes-clk63-black-series-front-carbon-spoiler-reborn/

Mercedes CLK63 Black Series Front Carbon Spoiler Reborn

The Mercedes CLK63 AMG Black Series is one of the most iconic cars of its time. With only 500 cars made in the world and 394 brought to the USA, this car has become a collectors piece. Only available as a 2008 model, the DTM inspired flares and raw 6.3L (6.218L actually) V8 engine pumps out 500 horsepower with its 7 speed paddle shift transmission. In its heyday, this was the pace car for F1 races around the world and posters on the walls for many enthusiasts.

Back in 2019 I had purchased a very rare 1 of 10 Mars Red Mercedes CLK63 AMG Black Series. When COVID hit and space in the Vivid Racing shop became a premium, I decided to sell the car on Bring a Trailer. Having purchased the car for $72500 and sold it for $95000, I thought I was a big dog. Today that car with 23000 miles I sold it with is worth $150K.

So after I sold my Porsche 992 GT3 we did here at Vivid Racing, I started a new quest to find another Black Series. With not a single Mars Red available in the USA, I started to look globally. Since I had previous imported the Ford Escort RS Cosworth from Spain, I decided to see what was in Europe. After some searching I came across this incredible white one that was actually produced in 2007 for the AMG CEO. It was outfitted with many European market exclusive options such as carbon fiber door cards, a carbon fiber GT trunk wing, and bucket AMG racing seats. But then it had this crazy front lip spoiler that further accentuated the DTM look of the car. Unfortunately they wanted $130,000 for this vehicle that had an equivalent of 70,000 miles so I continued my hunt.

A short time later I came across this beautiful Silver CLK63 in Nashville. With only 19500 miles on it, this was the perfect car. Wanting to get this as a collector piece, I did not want to really modify it. But that white one with the front lip kept on pulling heart strings. When the CLK63 hit the USA market, the aftermarket community went crazy with modifications not knowing what this car would become. Everything from suspension, exhausts, intakes, superchargers, and more aero parts. Being that the CLK63 comes factory with a carbon fiber rear diffuser, a carbon fiber trunk lip wing, and carbon fiber front bumper side vents, it is definitely missing a carbon fiber front lip.

Utilizing our experience with creating Carbon Fiber Aero parts, I 3d scanned the entire front bumper. Pulling from queues of the white Mercedes CLK63, we designed this new front lip spoiler to flow seamlessly with the rest of the aero and carbon fiber style. Now with a complete CAD model completed, a CNC aluminum mold was developed to lay up pre-preg carbon fiber material and then allow it to cure in an autoclave. Utilizing the latest technology and tier 1 materials in the pre-preg carbon fiber process, we achieve a beautiful glossy finish. The result is an OEM matching 2×2 twill carbon weave that fits to perfection.

In the end we now have a carbon fiber front lip spoiler for the limited amount of Mercedes CLK63 AMG Black Series cars. This isn’t a get rich product, but brings back the initial modding and enthusiast craze of such a legendary car. If interested in acquiring one of these front lip spoilers, just click on the link below or contact us.

Order the VR Aero Mercedes CLK63 AMG Front Lip Here

#Black Series #Body Kit #Carbon Fiber #clk63 amg #Front Lip #Mercedes #vr aero

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feedmethecat · 6 months ago

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unsafe and insane

500 members options

Alley way toy (short story, dark sexual fantasy)

( Before you read, firstly, I'm a bisexual sub male, and this story will be written from the first person perspective of a male, and will feature sexual themes, a variety of kinks, of male/male interactions. Secondly, while I'd love to make this story a reality, this isn't an ad, it's a sexual fantasy. Third, and lastly, I'm fine with messages about this story, but please don't spam me for attention, I don't mind conversation but I get busy, I respond to people when I can, and sometimes it takes an hour or two.)

The walls practically thumped with the bear of the music. Before me the door, a blue steel door, with the word "EXIT" on it in big gray letters. I could honestly not give a fuck about the music. Some new age hip hop or something? I liked rock, metal, rap, I was a 90s child. The genre wasn't the problem, the only genre I didn't like was country, and even then I still listened to specific things like America "horse with no name" or Poor man's poison, or something. I just didn't care for new shit. I shoved the thought out of my mind, forcefully.

"Okay A- umm Amy!"

I said to myself, almost breaking a rule, I wasn't allowed to use my old name. In fact, like the other property around here I was dubbed nameless. We were only allowed to use girls names. Simple enough. There were a few others. Our "job" was simple, lure customers to the club. It wasn't a job, it was more a task, as we didn't get paid in a traditional manner. Some "gurls" walked out, and lead customers back by promise of a fun time, others promised a lap dance, and some got fucked in the bathroom. I however wasn't trusted to leave the club, and I was the low slut on the totem pole. So, instead, I was to be in the alley. I pushed the exit door open, and stepped outside. The alley way was fenced off, with barbwire at the top. I couldn't leave if I wanted to, well I could, I was actually very resourceful, but I didn't want to, regardless I wasn't allowed to leave. There was one lamp, pointed one direction in the middle of the alley, that barely lit anything, lighting only from the first 10 feet of the alley near to the side of the alley closest to the street. I walked from the lit side of the alley into the darkness.

I was wearing quite the get up, in fact, my outfit made me feel embarrassed, ashamed, it made me feel slutty, and sexy, I loved it. My stomach, and Lowe back were completely exposed, I was pretty skinny now a days, not starved, just on a strict diet. The top, my chest, was covered by a tube top, thin enough that if someone looked closely enough at the black material, they'd be able to make out the piercings on my nipples. My nipples felt perky, in the cold night air, it was could enough to see my breath. It was also cold enough that I felt shrinkage, the back band of my chastity cage felt more tight, while the head of my chastity cage felt a little loose. My small tip, felt numb. The shorts, my daisy dukes, were short enough, that you could clearly see my bulge in them, and the back part of them, a strand about half an inch thick, wouldn't have hid my buttplug if I bent over. They did nothing to ward against the cold. I also wore thigh high netting, matching netting gloves, which felt great. The only other thing I wore was a collar, literally, a dog collar, from Petco. Apparently mine was on clearance? It was a pink dog collar, with a pattern of dog bones on it, a little degrading, even had a dog tag on it, in the shape of a heart in a pink metal. No doubt, an oxidized titanium nitrate over aluminum, I was many things, including nerdy.

I checked my pockets, I had my cellphone, which very much worked and had cell service, in fact, given to me by my owner. Then I had a vape pen, which I absolutely hated, I liked cigars, cigarettes, but I wasn't allowed to have anything that'd leave a scent during operation hours. Lastly, I had a small pager. With a press of the red button, bouncers would be to my rescue. However, I could handle myself firstly, secondly I liked it rough. Satisfied that I had everything on my person, I leaned my back against the wall and waited.

The alley was dirty, and had a dumpster back there that had a bit of a smell. Part of why I chose the dark side of the alley was that it was the opposite side of the dumpster. The other reason, was an attempt at privacy. Plus I could only smell the city on this side of the alley. I was between two different brick buildings, and the other building was a "empty" building that housed us. It wasn't as big as the club, but we each had our bedrooms, and between the two floors of it, it housed 12 of us comfortably with our own rooms.

First person of the night, came out. All club customers were members, and had to get regular screenings, I also had to get regular screenings. I didn't have to worry about an STD. The rules were simple, I get fucked, I suck dick, they could cum in me, on me, piss in or on me, in me, write things on me with a marker, and I couldn't refuse. Not that I would. I was a rape toy, for members, male, female, whatever. They weren't allowed to beat or abuse me physically, however spanking my ass, groping, pinching, nibbling, bite marks, hickies, were very much allowed.

My cock twitched in its cage eagerly, and I felt arousal and anxiety wash over me. I spoke, calling out to the male.

"Hey sweety, I'm Cindy, and I like cock~"

I cat called, it was bad, it was corny, but they loved it. Which was good, because I was bad at flirting. I however wasn't bad at fucking. The man, looking to be an older, fatter white male, spoke.

"Yeah I bet you'd love my dick, you little fag, turn around and face the wall. "

I faced the wall, bending over, pressing my hands, chest, and face against said wall, an arch in my back. He couldn't wait, undoing his pants behind me, and then leaning himself over me, the warmth of his body against mine. He pulled my shorts down and panties away, revealing plugged ass. The slimy sensation of warm lube in my rear, mixed with the sensation of rubbing as he grabbed the plug. He ripped it out my ass like he was trying to start a lawn mower and I let out a loud gasp. Feeling a shooting sore pain, my left eye watering lightly. I felt an emptiness as I could feel my ring wink, my asshole flexing and twitching. The feeling of emptiness was immediately replaced by pleasure as he pushed his cock in, the tip spearing it's way up into my ass. There was no foreplay to it, it was just me getting used, he rammed all the way in as he gripped my hips. I grunted at the pressure as he gasped, my ass clenching eagerly on his cock. In, now he pulled back, and pushed in again, rapidly. He thrusted, into me, there a rhythm, fast, and steady, as he used me. I moaned, loudly, intentionally, I was a submissive little piece of fuck meat, and I wanted him to know it, I wanted him to feel like I was loving the ass raping, because I was, I enjoyed it. I didn't need to moab at all, I just did, I loved making doms feel like they were doing something to me, because they were, so while my moans were exaggerated, my pleasure wasn't.

He didn't last long at all, he stopped had groaned, pressing his member up me, as hard as he can, almost awkwardly pushing me into the wall, his cock tip twitch deep inside me and shot it's load. His member had been quiet large, and I loved it, but even if it hadn't been, I'd still have loved it. It was the fact I was being used, that I got off on. He drew a tally mark on my right ass cheek, and left, after fixing his pats.

I felt the humiliation hit me as my thoughts returned, the humiliation of being used, only increased my arousal. My poor dick, twitched in it's cage. I put the butt plug back up my ass and pulled my panties and shorts up. Thinking about my locked dick pressed up in its chastity. I was very horny. I had eight inches, which I was told was above average, but I didn't care about it. I had a few ex girlfriends who liked it, sure, however the thing I liked about my dick, was when it wasn't hard. When I was flaccid, I was actually small, very small. Small little balls, small little dick. Fully erect I was eight inches, but when I was flaccid like this, I was only a few centimeters, above average when erect, but below average when flaccid. Locked in chastity, it was a little clit. I repeated the phrase "little clit" in my mind several times, deriving arousal from it. I never stayed hard while getting fucked in my ass, but I enjoyed the chastity cage, as it drew attention to my member, and I love the humiliation, I craved it, being told it was tiny, a clitty, that I was less than a man, a micro dick, or a little baby dick. I shuttered in arousal at the thought. There'd be plenty of that this evening, hopefully.

I do have to wait much longer for the next person, a man, younger, black male, bike garb, black leather outfit. I could definitely dig it, when I was younger I wanted an outfit like that, like the terminator in t2, in an ironic way, one of my other outfits was black leather biker gear but it was more feminine and slutty. The man, had to be around his mid twenties. I was thirty, but I looked younger due to being feminized.

"Hey bitch, get down on your knees, and give me some love."

He got his pants undone and had his cock out when I dropped to my knees, on the dirty ally way ground. He pushed his dick and balls against my face, his limp member growing hard as I got a face full of his natural manly musk, his unshaven hairs, tickles my nostrils. I opened my mouth as he grabbed the back of my head. My mouth finding one of his balls, I sucked on it, moving my tongue around it, eagerly. I preferred when they shaved, because I didn't like swallowing hair, or getting on my tongue, however we don't always get what we want. Besides, hairy dick, was better than no dick. He stroked his member with one hand, while I played with his balls with my mouth. He pulled back, his twelve inch dick, now stiff. He slapped me in the face with it and spoke.

"Like that bitch?"

I replied.

"Yes sir."

He slapped me in the face with his dick, again, it was degrading, and I loved that too. He then tapped it against my cheek, despite my mouth being open. I tired opening wider, to see if maybe that'd get him to rape my little whore mouth. He smiled at that, but instead slapped me in the face with his member again. He then finally put his cock in my mouth, just the tip. He didn't move, the message was clear, I was supposed to do all the work, and I did. I started by licking and playing with the tip, eagerly, before moving down, using my spit to coat his dick as I bobbed up and down. Training and gotten rid of my gag reflex entirely. However I liked to intentionally choke on dick, do I did, forcing myself deeper, and clenching my throat, making myself choke and gag on his dick, I then pulled up, my drool coating his dick, and leaking around my lips, I was a cock hungry slut, and I enjoyed this as much as anal. He enjoyed it moaning, so I kept it up. My jaw was quickly getting sore, but I ignored my discomfort, deriving pleasure from being of use. For the better part of several minutes, this continued, until he stopped me, holding my hard down, I felt the familiar sensation, of a cock twitching in my throat, the warm sensation of him shooting semen down my throat, I swallow it, gulping it down, he the pulled out of my mouth, and I kept my mouth open, to show him I had swallowed it all.

"Keep your mouth open slut"

He said. His dick growing mostly flaccid. I knew what that meant. he aimed his member, with one hand, for my mouth, and let a hot stream of piss into my mouth he filled my mouth with piss, and I closed my mouth to swallow it, as I did, he aimed lower, pissing across my chest staining my clothes with the wretched sent of of usine, from someone who'd been drink alcohol. I shuttered and balked at the taste of piss in my throat, but leaned into the stream, as I opened my mouth, and closed my eyes, he had no problem, painting my face with it, and then he place this tip in my mouth, I closed my lips around it, and swallowed what he gave me, drinking mouthfuls of it. He finished, and pulled up his pants. Leaving me there. Despite being drenched in it, and the cold, I wasn't done, I wasn't allowed to be done.

I had all night to be used, and I could see more customers coming out to use me.

( There will be a part two, don't worry. I enjoy comments about it though. )

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