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Introduction:
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Simmering and Smothering
Part 2 to It’s Always Coffee
Word Count: 7K
A/N: I’m soft for this guy rn. He’s so !!! Anyways, I um don’t know what else to say
-
You stand with a group of people, a lanyard hangs from your neck, and you pinch at the plastic cover that holds a card reading “Visitor” stuck on it. People part of the group peek through windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the wonders behind the glass. You're sure at some point you saw Dr. Ohnn standing close to a coworker. He must have felt your gaze, because he looked up and you had to fist your hand to restrain yourself from waving at him. But when the scientist beside him puts their hand on his back, returning his attention to the project in front, you find yourself digging your nails into the flesh of your palms.
You look around, but nothing catches your eye as it should at Alchemax. While you knew that they wouldn’t show a tour group all the dark and gritty experiments, a part of you wishes that you were able to slip away to explore, but any chances of that were snuffed out with a warning at being kicked out and banned should you stray. However, you do enjoy getting to step foot into the building. The group is led through glass doors, and you hear a few people sigh in relief. Walking in, windows line the room and let in a nice glow of sun.
“Okay,” Dr. Octavius says with a clap of her hands, “this is the cafeteria where we will be having lunch. Those tables over there-” she points over to a cluster of tables that have been protected with stanchions- “will be where you all will be eating. Lunch is one hour, and if anyone needs to go to the restroom, please contact a security guard.” Her gaze is friendly, smile wide and tone with the slightest hint of superiority, she speaks to all, before her gaze lands on you, her smile falling ever-so-slightly. “If you fail to inform a guard, and are caught wandering, you will be immediately removed from the premises.” Smiling, you give her an “okay” symbol, and in response, she looks away from you. “Okay!” She chirps, taking a step to the side, she sweeps her arms towards the selection of food. “Enjoy your lunch.”
You’re at a cart, holding a tray consisting of fruits, and a bottle of juice. You peer over the selection of bread, holding a saran wrapped bagel. You pull your mouth into a line, wanting to put it back, but unsure if that’s okay to do so. Sure, it’s saran wrapped, but what if it’s not okay to place things back. You’ve already picked it up, and with a sigh, you place it on your tray. You look over the rest of the selection of the grains, and perk up at the sight of a muffin. Happily, you reach to grab at it before your wrist is grabbed at.
“Hey-” You bark out, pulling your hand out of the grasp and turning to look at whoever it was that clutched your wrist. You stop short when you realize that it’s Dr. Ohnn. “I feel like we talked about appropriate ways to greet others,” you muse, grabbing at the saran wrapped muffin.
“What are you doing here?” he hisses, and you frown.
Your eyes scan his face, and you fold the tray closer to you. “You’re upset,” you conclude, tilting your head with furrowed brows.
“Of course I am,” he hisses. Your ears begin to burn, and you look around the cafeteria, many of the patrons sitting down and ignoring you- including the tour group you are a part of. When you look back at him, he continues. “Why are you here?”
“I’m part of the tour.” You jerk your head over where your tour members sit behind the stanchions. “Fisk was promoting it- something to show off Alchemax and how family-friendly it is. But if you ask me, I think it’s just a cover to stop people from asking-”
“I don’t care,” he rushes.
You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay, you don't have to be rude.” His eyes widen, and his shoulders rise. He opens his mouth, but you press forward. “Listen, I paid my way in, okay? If you’re upset with it, then I don’t know what to tell you.” He stays silent and you look back to your group. Turning back to him, you start. “Is that all, Dr. Ohnn? May I go sit down, or do you want to continue reprimanding me?”
He opens and closes his mouth, and when you turn on your heel, he calls your name. You turn to him with a waiting look. “I apologize.” You encourage him with a nod of your head. “I just-” he looks around, and grabs your wrist, pulling you to another station of food, grabbing a tray, and standing in front of the selection of fruits.
“You just?”
“I hadn’t thought that you would be here. I-” with his middle finger, he pushes up his glasses by the bridge- “I wasn’t aware there was a tour going on.”
“Does that matter?” You ask, grabbing at a cup of peeled mandarins.
“Scientists are usually the one to lead groups,” he says quietly, "due to the fact that it is our projects we are showcasing. We all take turns with it given that leading groups take time away from our projects. This should have been a group that I would have led. Dr. Octavius must have seen your name on the roster and decided to lead it for the day.” He gives you a look. “I’m surprised that she let you in.”
“I paid,” you shrug. “She isn’t happy about it or anything, but-” you end it with a shrug. “Anyways, I won’t bother your lunch or anything. I’m simply here to see the building and enjoy lunch.” You give him a smile as you lift up your tray. “Have a good day Dr. Ohnn.” You nod your head, ready to walk away before he stops you.
“Do you have to sit down with the others?” You turn to him, and look at him quizzically. “We um- We never finished our conversation from the other day.”
You tighten your grip on the tray. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “You kinda left without exchanging numbers. But I don’t think I’m allowed to sit elsewhere.” You look back at your group. “I’d invite you to sit with me, but I’m not sure if I could give you quite a riveting conversation as your work buddies.”
“You can. You have,” he says so, without any hesitation. “Our last conversation was entertaining.”
"You think so?"
He opens his mouth, before being interrupted by someone calling his name. "Jonathan," calls someone far too cheery from the door. A few heads turn to watch as another scientist- you think that they look familiar- and turn back around once the scientist enters the cafeteria. They turn on their heel to wave at another and it clicks- it's the scientist that touched his back.
You look back to the doctor, giving him a raised look. He has a sort of flush that colors in his face, and you purse your lips together.
The scientist walks toward the both of you, but their attention is solely on Jonathan. "Jonathan-" they say his name with a sickly sweet tone- "I thought you were going to wait for me so we can have lunch together." They smile brightly at the other and you watch as they reach over to squeeze at his bicep. "You hadn't forgotten, had you?"
"My apologies, Dr. Owens." You don't miss the way that he refers to the scientist by their last name while they refer to him by his first. A frown tugs at corner of your lips- they refer to him by his first name. You glance between the two and a pit settles in your stomach. "I hadn't forgotten, but I got distracted. It must have slipped my mind."
"You don't normally get distracted," they note, and their eyes dart at you. With the consequence of being acknowledged, you smile at them. "Ah. Part of the tour group, huh? No wonder you bothered our precious doctor." They're far too sweet with their words, it makes you uncomfortable. You open your mouth to apologize, but they continue on. “I was wondering if we could get the chance to go over our notes?” You feel as if you're in the middle of something. Standing besides Dr. Owens, you feel unsure of yourself. You clear your throat. They turn to you, and their smile is beaming. “Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt. While I’m sure Dr. Ohnn would love to engage with others about theories and his work, I do have to steal him away from you.” Their smile turns gentle, and you feel silly standing between them. “Sorry,” they apologize with a smile.
"Uh, yeah." You grit your teeth- that came out less eloquently than you would liked. "Sorry, Dr. Ohnn." You tap your heel against the ground. “I’ll leave you to it.”
"Oh- Um-” he looks at you, and you smile at him, shrugging your shoulders. He returns his look towards the other scientist, and you let your gaze drift down. You walk away, catching only a glimpse of their conversation. “What would you like to discuss?”
Sitting down at a designated table, the other tour members greet you. You smile and pick at your bagel, taking small bites, regretting not getting some kind of topping. You bite at your muffin, nodding along as the other group members talk about the experiments going on at the building.
It would make sense for him to have a partner. He's attractive, and has a good job. With the one conversation that you've had with him, he was well spoken. You eat your mandarins, letting the citrus fill your mouth. Dr. Owens isn’t unattractive and they certainly seemed nice. You do your best not to look at the doctor and his partner, keeping your head down as you listen to the other people in your group.
You know why you feel so bothered by it all. It’s dumb. You only had one actual conversation with him, but it was nice. He was nice- much nicer than you had ever given him credit for. You feel silly over being jealous of a man you only knew for a minute.
-
"Fuckin' driver," you mutter under your breath, your lips curled in disgust. Fixing yourself, you cross your arms and decide to walk to the train station. It's incredibly late and something that you actively avoid doing, but you don't want to risk yourself with another driver. "Now I gotta walk."
A part of you pays with the idea of putting in your headphones and at least having a calming walk, but you shake your head at that idea. You will not be murdered just because you wanted to listen to music.
Headlights flash by and you bite the inside of your mouth every time. A car passes by, and you watch as the red tail lights blink on. You stop in your steps, taking a look around. No one else on the sidewalk acknowledges the car.
“Okay”, you think to yourself, “I can't get abducted in front of other people.” You take a step forward and pause. “That's dumb. Yes, I can.” You scowl and tap your foot against the pavement, holding tighter onto the strap of your bag.
However, no one else seems fazed by a car pulling over, and that gives you confidence to walk further. At the end of the car, you see the passenger window roll down. You hesitate again. Sucking in a breath, you roll your wrists, and as you walk past the car until you hear your name being called.
You turn, and through the windshield, you see a familiar doctor waving at you. Looking around, you clutch onto the trap of your bag before making your way towards him.
"Dr. Ohnn?"
He smiles nervously. He looks far too tense for someone in their own car. "Hello," he calls you by your name. "I was sure you would have left ages ago."
"Tour ran late- one of the kids explored without permission," you explain.
"I'm surprised it wasn't you." You weren't aware he could tease.
"I wasn't in the mood for any trespassing charges. Maybe tomorrow." You shrug, and send him a grin. “Who knows? Night’s still young and all.”
He turns his head, and you follow his gaze out onto the street before the both of you. "Why are you walking?"
“People had their own rides, and I didn't. I took the bus. After the whole fiasco, I missed it. I got into a taxi, but uh-" you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest- "the driver was being too sleazy for my tastes so I decided to take my chances walking.”
“Oh- I’m sorry to hear about that.” He leans over the middle console of the car, with his hand pressed down on the passenger seat. “It’s quite late,” he tells you.
Your lips stretch into a thin grin. “Correct. It’s no wonder that you’re one of the top scientists at Alchemax.”
“You’re hilarious,” he deadpans.
“I try,” you tell him. The soft glow of the streetlamps casts him in a warm glow. “But I'd be more inclined to believe you if you were actually laughing.”
“Yes, well, I’ll try to laugh next time.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile sharply at him.
“Is that why you stopped? To hear my humor?” You tease, taking a step forward, and he tilts his head to look at you.
“No, actually. I thought it was you, and I wanted to know if you would like a ride?”
You’re taken aback. “Oh! Um- No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” you correct yourself. You turn looking down the street where the crowd of people slows. You look back at him. “I’m sure you have your own plans for the night. I wouldn’t want to intrude or interrupt or anything.” You twist the strap of your bag in your hand. “While I appreciate the offer, you don’t have to worry about me Dr. Ohnn.”
“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. I don’t have any plans.”
You stay silent, weighing your options in your head. While you’d like to be in a car and taken to your home, you also can’t just enter his car. Even if he is the one offering. No. You can’t. There has to be a line. You have a crush on him- maybe. You’re attracted to him. Wait, that’s actually worse. You shake your head.
“I shouldn’t.” You bite your bottom lip and look at the air freshener that hangs down the rearview mirror. “I would want to get you into any sorts of trouble.”
“Trouble?” He says in a quiet voice, but alarm is still laced into his words.
“You know-” you wave your hand in front of you- “with Dr. Owens. Would they be okay with you giving me a ride?”
He gives you an incredulous look. “What does Dr. Owens have to do with this?”
Your chest begins to burn, and it travels upwards to your face. “Would they appreciate you giving a ride to a stranger?”
“You aren’t a stranger,” the way that he calls your name has your breath hitching, and heart racing. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you walking so far to a station at night.”
“Okay,” you shrug. “But you have to put in the directions on your phone. I’m easily distracted and won’t be able to give you any good directions.”
“Fine by me,” he pulls away and the door unlocks. You open the door, and the window slowly raises. “Between you and I, I’m not entirely great with navigation.” The noise from the outside mutes as you close the door, the lock clicking down on itself. You click the seatbelt as you give him a look. “I get lost easily,” he admits. He grabs his phone and sorts through his applications, finally passing it your way with the map function on display.
“Don’t you have a PhD?” You enter your address, and return the phone, watching as he places the phone on the holder stuck to the car.
“Doesn’t mean a thing if a shopping center has me turned all sorts of ways,” he admits, setting the car to ‘drive’ and pulling away from the sidewalk. You laugh, it starts as a snort, and forms into a chuckle and it has you hiding your smile behind your hand, trying to quell the laughter.
You turn to look at him, the corner of your lips tilting upwards and wrinkling at your eyes. “I don’t even think I could picture you getting lost in a mall.”
He sits up straighter, and casts a glance through the corner of his eye. “It isn’t a particularly good image of me,” he confesses.
Humming, you lean back into the seat, fixing your bag onto your lap, playing with the zipper. “No, I’m sure it is,” you hum. “A renowned scientist, lost at a mall.”
“It can be quite traumatizing.”
“I’m sure it can be,” you muse, trying to hide the smile that slowly grows. "Many children often fear the mall for that same reason."
He scoffs at your remark. “Did you learn anything interesting on the tour?” He asks, and you cross your ankles.
“I think we learned about atoms?” He chuckles at that, and you feel warm. “I gotta be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more, ya know?”
“Atoms aren't enough?”
"Not nearly,” you tell him softly. “Maybe if they brought out some secret project or like showed some sort of light show, then I’d be impressed.”
“Oh, of course,” he says with sarcasm laced into his words. “A secret project shown to the masses, especially where one child had gone missing.”
“Explored,” you correct, turning our head to look at him.
The GPS voice speaks, and he misses a turn. He mumbles an apology, the application already rerouting him. “If you join another one, I’ll make sure that there’s a light show.” He casts a glance, and misses another turn, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “I’m thirsty,” he tells you.
You blink at him. “You can stop somewhere and get something. I don’t mind waiting in the car.” The metal zipper of your bag shines under the passing streetlamps.. “You’re already doing me a favor by driving me home.”
“The coffee shop is still open. Would you mind accompanying me for a drink?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah- sure. I’d be okay with that. I still owe you that cup of coffee. You know, from when we met at the shop?”
He shakes his head. “Consider it my treat. I am inviting you after all.”
“But you did win that little wager, and you are driving me home. I could at least buy you a cup of coffee or something.” He shakes his head. “Come on-” you slap the back of your hand lightly against his bicep- “don’t make it difficult.”
“I’m not making it difficult,” he frowns.
The GPS continues to tell Dr. Ohnn to make a right when he can, and he fumbles with turning it off, grumbling under his breath until you offer your hand out. The phone is placed down, and you shut down the application. The phone is held in your hand, the application minimizing to show his background- a picture of- the phone is pulled out of your grasp.
“I don’t even get to learn what your background is?” You give a faux pout, leaning back against the seat. “Come on, I didn’t even get a chance.”
“Don’t worry too much about it,” he tells you. “It isn’t all that exciting.” You stick your tongue out at him in response and he fails to suppress a smile.
Pulling to the side of the road, you place your bag on the floor, snagging your debit card before zipping the bag up. Getting out of the car, you’re careful not to slam the door. You rush to beat him from opening the door. “Okay,” you draw out the vowel, slipping to move in front of him, “how about this. You buy my cup, and I’ll buy yours. I’ll even let you get a pastry- you know as a thank you for driving me home.
“You don’t have to. I offered to drive you home, it was completely my own volition.”
You give an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever you say, but the offer is there.”
As he orders his drink, you press your card against the payment terminal, telling the barista that it’ll be two separate transactions. You can feel his eyes on you and you can only smile, nodding when the barista confirms. Lacking your energy, he pays when you order your own. You’re sure that the barista is annoyed with the two of you, but at this point, you had a win that he was owed.
With the lack of patrons, the two of you find a table placed beside the window. The two of you sit across from each other, and wait for your drinks to be called. Tapping your hands against the table, you look out the window, watching the people and the cars.
“I was more than happy paying for your drink,” he comments.
You look at him through the reflection, and he meets your gaze there. “I know. But you’re already doing me such a favor by taking me home and stuff-” shrugging, you turn to face him- “might as well buy you a drink.”
“You didn’t have to,” he mumbles.
“I wanted to.”
Looking at you, he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when he can’t find the right words. You nod, letting him take his time and to continue with whatever he is going to say. Clearing his throat, he can only get a breath out when the two of your names are spoken. You turn just in time to see the drinks placed on the counter as the barista walks away.
“I’ll go get them for us.” He stands from the table and you watch him. He takes long strides, his head bent and arms close to himself, as if trying to make himself to the public. You hadn’t realized that he had such squared shoulders. He almost reminds you of a rectangle.
Placing your drink in front of you, he takes a seat. His teeth bite at his bottom lip and he brings the cup to his lips. Placing the drink down, he clears his throat. “Why did you ask about Dr. Owens?”
Ah. Maybe you should’ve kept quiet about that. “What do you mean?”
“You mentioned that I would get in trouble with them if I had driven you home.”
“Oh um, yeah. It’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worrying, I’m asking.”
“Okay,” you whisper, your gaze focused on your drink. “They just seemed into you is all. I thought there was something you know-” you lift your head looking at him- “between you and them.”
“You thought they were into me?” You choose to ignore the wonder in his voice. Opting to stay silent, you nod. “I can assure you, Dr. Owens is not into me.”
“It sure seemed that way,” you mumble into the rim of your drink. He stares at you, and you shift in your seat, hiding behind your cup. “What?”
“What made you think they were into me?”
Your molars grind against each other. The rim of the cup is brought to your lips, but you don’t take a sip, you only press your lips against the opening, before lowering it back to the table. “Oh gosh, are you into them? Look, that's sweet and all, but I’d rather not play matchmaker to some scientists.” He stays silent, and you look outside the window, watching a couple walk past by. “You really wanna know?” He makes a noise of confirmation, and you let out a held breath. “In that little time that I saw the two of you, they had no trouble touching you. And they call you by your name, too.”
“My name?”
Nodding, you twist and untwist your legs. “Yeah.”
“Is that usually an indicator?”
Lifting your hand, you make a see-saw motion. “Sometimes, I guess. Depends on how it’s used and all. Context, ya know?”
“I call other people by their names,” he counters. You nod, letting him continue. “I call you by your name.”
“Oh yeah- I um, I guess so,” you mumble, taking another sip of your drink, desperate to keep yourself busy.
“You never call me by my name.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was allowed.”
“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be allowed?”
“I always thought you found me annoying.”
“I did.” You frown, and he gives you an apologetic smile. His hand lifts up, grabbing at a strand of hair and twirling it around his finger. “That doesn’t mean that I disliked you. I have to admit-” he lets go of the strand and it falls back to place- “I always did find your drive admirable. You weren’t one to give up. You’re quite stubborn.” You stare at each for a few moments, heat blazing itself against your skin, making a chill over your body. He breaks eye contact and tilts the cup, making a circle with the bottom edge. “Do you really believe that Dr. Owens likes me because they call me by my name.” You nod, your mouth too dry despite the drink in your hand to even consider speaking. “Hm, okay,” he hums. His hand runs over his stubble, and you wonder if he’s growing out a beard. “You said that they touch me.”
“I um, saw the two of you in an office- while on the tour.” Your hand pulls up to scratch at your shoulder. You feel the need to hide from him.
His smile stretches even more. “I thought I was losing my marbles.” You take a sip of your drink. “I thought that after all my imagining about-” he clicks the last consonant, and you straighten yourself, leaning forward- “I thought that finally, after all of your incessant questioning, that I was beginning to imagine you.”
“Mhm,” you hum, taking another sip of your very diluted drink.
“You were saying.” He rolls his hand expectantly.
“When you turned around- when you saw me- they immediately turned you back around.”
“So? I believe we were discussing the recent project that we’ve both been assigned on”
Grabbing a napkin, you dab at the table where a ring of water from the condensation has formed on the table. “It was how they touched you. They touched your back and lingered their hand on you.”
“I’m not following.”
You make a noise of discomfort, and fist the wet napkin in your hand. “I can’t explain it in words. It’s- It’s in the details and stuff. The observer's point of view.”
“Can you show me?”
“Like?”
“Touch me.”
The napkin is clenched tightly in your hand, your nails ripping through the soft paper. Warmth flushes through your body, and you fear that he can notice the change in you. You know that he doesn’t mean it that way, but for him to say something so- so, intimate sounding, without meaning to, made your heart skip a beat. His eyes widen, and he stumbles over his words. “No- Not- Not like that. I hadn’t meant for it- I’m so terribly sorry-”
“It’s fine,” you reassure, waving your hand in front of you. “It’s cool,” you smile at him and he stops his ramble of words. There’s a rapid beat that bruises inside of your chest at his words- even if he did mean them innocently. “But you know, they touched you at the cafeteria too. They went up to you and touched your bicep.” You lift your hand, reaching over the table, letting it hover over his forearm. Glancing at him, he’s watching you, and you close your fist, pulling your hand back to you.
“And you believe that all of those actions are due to the fact that they like me?”
Shrugging, you suck in your bottom lip. “It’s just my theory,” you whisper, embarrassment laced into your words. “They wanted to eat lunch with you too.”
The two drinks remain untouched and outside, you can hear sirens. His hand lifts up to rub over his mouth, and he has this faraway look in his eyes. “Okay,” he mumbles.
“Okay?”
“Is there anything else that you want to add?”
You pout. “No.”
In the corner of your eye, you see a worker clean a table with a rag. You watch for a moment, and turn your head when chairs are fixed back into their positions, scraping along the floor. A part of you feels unsure about the conversation. While you wouldn’t believe that the scientist had a crush on you, you had at least humored the idea, but knowing that he isn’t interested in you, makes you want to go home.
You open your mouth to speak, and he beats you to it. “I’m hungry,” he states.
“I told you you could have gotten a pastry,” you point out.
“I want dinner. An actual dinner.” Sitting straight, it’s as if he has a new resolve. “Are you hungry?”
Blinking in surprise, you lift your shoulders. “Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I could eat something.”
“Good,” he nods to himself, and stands up, the chair squeaks against the floor. You follow his eyes, looking up at him as he adjusts the chair and stands by the table. “I’d like for you to accompany me to dinner.” Clearing his throat, his shoulders bunch together, and any confidence that he did have, is slowly evaporating. “That- That is if you want to, of course.”
You scoff with a smile. “Yeah, I’m game with that, Dr. Ohnn.”
“Jonathan. You can call me Jonathan. I don’t mind it if you call me that.” He twists his hands, interlocking them, and pulling on the back of his palm, his skin stretching thin over his knuckles.
Straightening yourself, you nod. “Okay. Jonathan it is. The same um, goes to you of course. You can call me by my name.”
“I already do,” and the way that he says your name, softly and tenderly, held with a smile, makes you turn your head and scratch at your neck in a desperate attempt to hide how wide your smile is.
“Mhm,” you squeak out. Standing up, you make sure to push the chair in and grab at the loose napkins and your drink.
Following behind you, he throws his drink into the trash. This time, he’s made sure that he stands in front of you, stretching his arm out to hold the door open for you. Mumbling, you thank him, standing beside the door as he goes to open the passenger side door.
None of what he’s doing is helping quell your attraction to the scientist.
Clicking his seatbelt, he starts the car, driving away from the coffee shop. “Do you have a preference?”
“On food?” He nods, fumbling with the radio that plays the song of the week. You tap your foot to the beat. “Um, I think I’m good with most stuff. Restaurants are pretty inclusive about diets and stuff most days.”
“There’s a burger place on the way to Alchemax, do you know the one I’m talking about?”
“With the really good burgers?”
“Yes. Would you like to go there?”
“Isn’t that too far?”
“They opened one relatively nearby.”
“Oh okay, yeah.” You nod. “I’m game with that.”
“Good. That’s good.”
The drive to the restaurant passes by quickly as you chat about miscellaneous things- the weather, work, different coffee shops. Uncomfortable with silences, you keep the conversation going, jumping from topic to topic, trying to make something stick. However, the driver seems to be content with silence, nodding and giving one-worded answers, only really contributing to the conversation when you give your opinion on something.
Pulling into the restaurant, he takes a glance at you, and you smile in response. He opens his door, and steps out, and you follow close behind. The door is held open for you, you order your own meal, and before you can pat your pockets to find your card, he’s already paying for the meal. You aren’t sure how to feel about the whole situation. You feel good- happy and flustered even- but you can’t kid yourself. It’s dinner. With a scientist who you have pestered for a good while about what exactly is going on within Alchemax. It’s dinner with a guy who you had coffee with- twice. That’s it.
When he sits in front of you, and smiles, you think you’re about to pass out.
Oh. He’s really cute.
No. Whatever feelings you’re having is a moment of weakness. Maybe you should download a dating app or something.
Your newfound emotions aren’t settled by the end of the meal where you tell him a story about an old job that you used to work. He’s an avid listener, expressive and laughing when you start to smile uncontrollably. He pushes his tray closer to yours, letting you snag what little left of fries that he has. Even with bags under his eyes, he remains attentive during your story.
“No, and like my supervisor tells me “Well whole milk is regular milk,” and I’m so adamant-” you laugh mid-sentence- “that two percent is regular milk. Or like can be qualified as regular milk.”
“Why were you so adamant about it?” He laughs softly, leaning forward.
“Honestly?” You lean forward, stealing a fry of his and plopping it in your mouth. “I just really hate being wrong. Anyways-” you wave your hand in the air- “we have this whole spiel about milk of all things. And I tell him that I like oat milk and he’s like-” you deepen your voice to portray your supervisor- “‘Oat milk isn’t even milk. How do you even milk an oat?’”
“How do you milk an oat?” He asks with knitted brows.
“I-” you pause and tap at the table. “I always thought you blended it. You know, like peanut butter?”
“Yeah, but people don’t drink peanut butter.”
“I bet you that there is at least one person in the world who does drink peanut butter.”
“Okay, you find me that person and I’ll buy you a coffee next time.”
“Yeah, yeah-” you wave your hand, trying not to let your competitive side leak out. “Anyways, I’m sure they make almond milk the same way. Blended.” You lift a hand and point with your index, swirling it in the air.
“I’m partial to oat,” he admits.
“I gotta be honest, I think all milk tastes the same,” you whisper out the confession, covering the side of your mouth with one hand.
“Oh, now you’re being difficult,” he says with a roll of his eyes, adjusting his glasses by the leg.
“I’m not, I swear! It just all tastes the same. Doesn’t stop me from asking for it at the coffee shops.”
“Even if it tastes the same?”
“I like feeling fancy,” you lilt, and he laughs.
“So you’re tricking your mind?”
“Oh totally.”
“With the fake milks?”
“Real, regular milk,” you counter. “Soy is fake- I think.”
“Oh, soy is fake, but the others aren’t.” He scoffs. “That’s where you draw the line.”
You laugh, taking the final sip of your drink. “Yeah, obviously.”
He joins your laughter, dipping his head down, and stray hairs fall in front of him. When he lifts his head, his smile is wide and open, and he has such a nice laugh- deep and the type that shakes his body. Pride makes your chest swell and heat burn over your cheeks at making him not only smile, but laugh. Fighting back the urge to move away the tray pieces of hair that have fallen, you clench your hand into a fist, your laughter slowly dying down.
A quiet moment befalls the two of you, and you both look at each other. You rub the bottom of your shoe over the top of the other, and check the time. With a click of your tongue, you gather your trash onto the tray.
“We should probably get going. It’s close to closing time for them,” you explain, nodding your head back to the register where two workers chat.
“Oh, should we?” Despite questioning you, he follows your example and gathers his own trash.
“As someone who used to work customer service jobs, yeah.” Tossing your trash into the designated area, you stack the tray overhead. “I’m pretty sure that the employees probably hate us by now.”
“Good point.” He holds the door open for you, and you follow him back across the mostly empty parking lot. Inside the car, he waits for the engine to heat, and he turns to you. “I apologize for keeping you so late.”
“No, this was,” you hesitate choosing your words, “fun.” You nod your head and pull your bag up onto your lap. “I had a good time.”
“I’m glad that you did,” he says softly, giving you a final look before he gives his attention to the road.
-
After a long day, you stand in front of your building, Jonathan joining you. You’ve always been much more comfortable with chatter than you have been with silence, but as you stand with him, you don’t feel as uncomfortable. You might even like the silence if it gives you reason to look at him. You stand on the steps leading to your home, finally looking him in the eye, and you hate the fact that he has such soft brown eyes.
“Thanks for driving me home. And getting me a drink.” You kick at the ground, scuffing up at the dirt that lays in a thin layer. “And paying for dinner.” A jitteriness falls over you, and you can only twist and grip onto the strap of your bag. “Thanks for all of that Dr.-” he gives you a narrowed look and you quickly correct yourself- “Jonathan.”
“You don’t have to add my title,” he tells you. Beside him, his hand twists at the hem of his shirt.
“Force of habit,” you say shrugging. Clearing your throat, you start. “Still, thanks. This was nice, Jonathan.” You like his name, and you hate the way that it makes you feel.
He nods, and raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, thank you for accompanying me to dinner. I had a good time.” He says your name delicately, rolling off his tongue, and you never thought that you would want to hear your name repeated over and over.
“No worries,” you answer breathlessly. You can’t think around him. Everything feels as if it’s too much- too hot, too close, too sweet.
It was one day- two technically- but it was a short amount of time. You wear your heart on your sleeve despite trying so desperately not to. All it took was one day with him, and you think that you might like him.
Oh, how you wish he was with someone else, then you could give yourself a reason to look away from him.
With cotton stuffed into your mouth, you don’t trust yourself any further. You think that you should go inside- that maybe you shouldn’t be taking up his time. A part of you wonders when you’ll see him again. Shifting your weight between each foot, you pat your hands on your thighs, drying off the clammy feeling. You wish he would start talking again. Or maybe you should. If you go inside, then this could all be over. You turn your foot, and wave your hand in a goodbye, when he starts to speak.
“Will you be joining another tour group?” There’s a hint of hope that’s weaved into his words. He’s looking at you, and you wonder if you look pretty.
“As much as I enjoyed it, no.” You think you imagine seeing his shoulders slump at your words. “It wasn’t really for me. It was nice, but much more kid-centered.” His glasses are slipping down his nose and you wonder if he’d get upset if you pushed them up. “Will you be going to the café tomorrow?”
“I work tomorrow,” he admits.
“Oh,” you clear your throat, and fighting away the burning feeling that is burning in your chest, you suck in a deep breath. It makes sense to do this now. You have to take a risk. It’s dumb and highly unprofessional, but you need to tell him something. He has to stick around, just for a moment longer, just so you could get whatever pink and sweet is in you, out. “Would-” he word comes out much softer than you would have liked- “Would you want to exchange numbers, maybe?” You hope he says no.
“Really?” He looks so shocked, and so happy. A grin tilts his lips upwards, and like seeing his smile.
Nodding, you rub the flat of your middle finger against your jawline. “Yeah. It would be a better alternative than meeting during lunch on a tour group or a random chance meeting at the café. Only if you’re okay with it.”
“I’m okay with it,” he says eagerly.
You nod eagerly, unable to fend off your smile. “Cool, cool.” You suck in a deep breath, and wait for a moment, before you start to pat your pockets, pulling out your phone and clicking at the ‘New Contact’ section. Holding the phone to him, he grabs the device and places his information.
Holding the phone tight in your hands, you tap your fingers against the back of the case. “I’ll message you later?”
“I’ll look forward to it.” He lifts his hand and waves at you. You watch his back as he steps into his car.
You can hardly believe that you even made it inside without dropping your keys from excitement and nerves. Behind your door, you clasp your hand over your mouth, pitifully trying to stop the smile that beams across your features. Oh, this isn’t fair. And oh, you can’t wait to message him.
#the spot#the spot atsv#the spot x reader#the spot spiderverse#jonathan ohnn#jonathan ohnn x reader#jonathan ohnn headcanons#the spot across the spiderverse#i wanna kiss his nose#im kinda like fried after this one#this one wasnt even supposed to be long#but i couldnt find a nice chapter break from it#i might do a smut piece next#and then the angst one#that i have dubbed#look how i remember you on ao3#so check that out#this will also go there#i just think this guy is neat#so like#spare comments please(>'-'<)#for realises tho#let me know#i can either extend this or like end it by the next chapter#i had sections written out#so i have alf of the next part but i just struggle with integrating spotty into it
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Lunch in Space (Part 3)
You always hear about these people who have EVA accidents and they tell you how laser-focused they were, in maintaining a cool and calm demeanour so they could follow the old Observe, Analyse, React model.
Which jsut goes to show how tricky memory is because the suit recordings all start the same way mine did:
Sound: [Bang]
Sound: [AAaaaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaa! F***! S***!]
Look, it's confusing. You start by sort of floating in your suit thinking about those little purple rolls they serve in the Caf, and then everything is spinning and it feels like your legs are being pinched.
Ever had a blood pressure test? It feels like that, from your feet all the way to your hips. It's to make sure all the blood doesn't get centrifuged out of your brain.
Then you dig your thumbs into the little slot with the emergency buttons and push down until they decide you really mean it and then the auto-compensators stop you from spinning.
Then you start looking for leaks. Oscar, or whatever you named your suit will tell you right away. I had a small leak, easily repaired with Space Tape once I yanked a chunk of crud out of the way. There was a big gash in the impact plate that is part of Oscar's outermost layer. It's designed to distribute an impact and be somewhat ablative. the tip of some debris had gone all the way through and nicked the inner layer.
Space Tape has vacuum-rated adhesive, is shiny as heck and after I spudged some sealant into the gash, the tape went over the top as both insurance and a way to indicate to any rescue party that there was a potential yadda yadda. Look, you've done the safety course.
Step 2: Orient and Bitch.
Easy enough. Half a turn to the left and yo, there's the station. Or a little green box around the fuzzy little cloud of navigation hazard.
"Oscar, calculate return vector, and current free orbit." said I.
Oscar thinks about that, does a whole bunch of range-finding, math, and parallax, and then tells me that if I totally empty my tanks I can do pretty much nada about catching back up.
The docking frame took the impact instead of e.g. pretty much all the stuff that was keeping me alive right now: A quick read on the sun suggests that's the cooling unit at the moment. The station was already a little dot, twinkling in a pretty way as it vanished into the endless night.
The emergency kit has a spring wire thermal blanket in it. I tethered one corner to Oscar, and let it unfold, putting it between me and the sun. Also now I just made myself way easier to track. Like I needed that? If we were down to only RADAR or looking for shiny crap, we weren't going to make it anyway.
I think they make these checklists boring so you won't have anxiety about falling into infinite space with some tape covering the hole in your life support system while clamped to a bent out-of-shape utility lift, while hiding behind a couple of grams of plastic sprayed with metal vapour.
I mean it's not the first time. It's just the first time it wasn't a training exercise.
Elapsed time: About 5 minutes. Check in time. Station was loud and clear five bars, waiting for me to call in:
"Station, this is Delta Zeta on impact trajectory calling in an untethered excursion. Systems are yellow, Stellar shield is deployed. Currently encumbered by the docking stanchion and lift plate. Pilot is green. I have a controlled outgassing event. Please advise. Over."
Station responds right away, so hey they're all still there too, meaning the communications are up and they aren't busy getting Kesslered. Good To Know™️.
"Delta Zeta, this is EVA command. We read a trailing orbit. You're green for Three Eight, period five hours. We read Life Support for One Four, no obstacles. We are currently leading a large volume of navigational hazard. At this time we recommend waiting for safety intercept leading approach. Do you copy, Over?"
I consider this like there's an actual choice.
"I copy Station: Big cloud of crap behind you, five hours until you sneak up on my sorry ass. Be advised that I will not be picking up a pizza while out. Over"
Station comes back: "Be advised that lack of pizza may result in a lower recovery priority. Over."
So yeah. They just said they had too much shit floating around behind them to safely get a rescue drone out, and I'm moving away from them.
In five hours their orbit will bring them up behind me, where the debris field isn't and they can pick me up. I have power and air to try this twice, and if they miss I have thirty-eight orbits before I'll de-orbit. Given that I have fourteen hours before my power or air runs out and I either cook, freeze or suffocate, that part isn't something I need to worry about.
"Grak!" I say. Oscar's little icon does a couple of colour and pattern changes: A blush at the use of profanity, Atrix style.
"Copy that." Station says. Oops. Hot mic.
"See you in five. Over and out." I say and put a movie on. I pick Gravity, the re-make they actually shot in Earth Orbit, not the Atrix version. I have a sick twisted sense of humour.
I'd jsut got to the good bit with the Indian Space Station, when my stellar shield suddenly jerked and flipped around, a little hole punched through it. Then another and another.
Around that point something hit my life support and things got really distracting...
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Ch. 2
The agony of being followed hadn’t left her, and she seized with panic as she realized they were helplessly heading toward the airport.
“Gabe where are all the exits?? Take an exit!” She demanded. Gabriel shook his head, concentration creasing his brow. Around them, tremendous long loops of road interlaced on every plane without intersection, loosely crocheted together. The great maw of the terminal rose up over the horizon of the freeway, like an anglerfish out of water, ovular, tapered at the back, with a wide dark mouth. The vehicles around them poured in and Hazel clutched helplessly to the handle over the window as they followed. Ships parked in clusters, as many as could fit, just inside the jaw. Gabriel brought theirs down to rest on its squat legs and took her hand.
“I don’t think I can do this,” She said; sweat beading on her upper lip. Her ears were on fire. “I can’t go through security. We have to go back.”
“You know we can’t. Pull it together, stay quiet, and try not to look so sweaty.”
They stepped down and towards the massive glass doors that slammed open and shut as travelers made their way out of the lot. The ceiling rose in an uninterrupted arc 60 feet above them, made of segmented dull sheet metal that absorbed most of the light that the insufficient fluorescents could muster.
She caught a vague glimpse of herself as she passed through the glass doors. Her brown hair was whitened with dust like a powdered gentry-woman. Her green bodysuit, tapered at the waist and ankles, was almost dry but had stiffened from the chlorine to an uncomfortable starchy texture. As she had a thousand times before, she raised her eyebrows and manually loosened her jaw, approximating an expression of ease and smoothing the harsh lines in her face. Soon, she was in line among the others, corralled by the inky boundaries of black stanchions. In the far distance, beyond the geometrically snaking line, she could see security agents waving beeping sticks through the auras of splayed bodies. Figures stepped meditatively, rhythmically, across thin carpet through the series of plastic thresholds. Those in front of her fell forward like dominos, folding to remove shoes and release belts.
On her wrist, she could feel the impatient pulse of her watch ticking. The moist area of softened skin under the band itched.
A security agent with scarecrow blonde hair called her forward. Leaning over her shoulder, she whispered into one ear, and then the other, “hi hi hi hi hi helloooo I’m just going to be giving you a quick check -check - check -chek chek. I’m going to comb your hair back … and then forward. Can you look at this light for me? Can you follow the light - follow the light - follow the light light light? Perfect perfect perfect. You’re doing great. And I’m just gonna *whispered* run my hands down your arms arms arms. And now the insides of your thighs. And calves. On the outsides of your legs legs legs gooooood. Good. I want you to imagine this beeping security stick is cooooombing over your aura. Starting at the top of your head and coming downnnnn — down to your toes. Thank you thank you thank you. And just close your eyes for me. Good you’re doing so good.”
Psychic pain where the bar touched the aura hovering over the crown of her head. Ache behind the eyes, like the fatigue of staring at a screen too long, as it brushed past her face. Cramping, cringing pain as it coasted past her chest. She reached out for Gabe but he’d already moved ahead in line, belt and shoes off, pants slouching indecently. He shuffled the cards from his wallet in his hands like a deck, bridging them between long fingers and letting them fall awkwardly, alternately. He was almost to the last checkpoint: at the center of a final winding line, a monolith or a toll booth. inside, an officer recited interviews through perforations in inch-thick glass.
Previous residences, partners, housemates, names and breeds of various pets through a life time. Address of your pharmacy of choice, streaming subscriptions, state ID and license of registration, papers verifying child abuse clearance and up-to-date vaccinations.
“Name and date of birth?”
“Hazel Crucifix, December 21st, 2058.”
Hazel pulled scans up on her phone and wrinkled papers out of her bag and offered them up. The officer sniffed through suspiciously, nose wrinkling as he came to her vaccination sheet. “It wasn’t flu season, so I’ll be updating that in the coming fall, when they make those available again. “ He nodded without looking at her. “Wrists please,” he said, stamping her inner arm with a rich blue ink that seeped out in a delicate topography of the grooves in her skin. Each wrist marked with the blurred outline of a breaching dolphin.
Hazel shoved the papers back into her bag and proceeded through the dominoed metal detectors, fifty or a hundred of them creating a striated tunnel to the back of the airport.
She caught up to Gabriel and fell in step behind him, each of them barefoot, arms raised over their heads. They emerged onto the other side of the airport and sat side by side with their feet folded under them and sifted through the ten foot pile of shoes. Hazel examined a platform heel that didn’t belong to her. The shoot from the ceiling coughed up a new pair and it tumbled down towards them, dislodging a Jordan that bonked Gabe on the head. Reaching her arm in to the shoulder, Hazel felt around for the smooth capped toe of her high top sneakers and tugged one out, creating a rubber-scented cascade into her lap. The second shoe appeared on her right. Gabriel was tightly lacing a pair of someone else’s combat boots beside her and winked at her as she watched. Long nimble fingers wove aglets through metal-bracketed holes, veins protruded from the pink flesh of his forearms. Hazel took his face in her hands and kissed him. “Let’s go to the airport bar” he said, retracting his tongue from her mouth.
“The drinks are outrageously expensive.
And we’ve made it through security for now, but you and I both know that your name is on a list, with my name as a footnote. I don’t like this at all. If we should go anywhere, it’s to a handicap bathroom stall where we can wait out the next few hours without any cameras recognizing your face.”
“You even know where we’re going yet?”
“I planned the whole last trip, you’re not going to weigh in about where we go next?”
“You mean the charming desert outpost with the electrified pool and googly-eyed monster? That we had to fly ourselves to?”
“There’s a reason we don’t take commercial flights, Gabe. It’s on you that we ended up here, I tried to tell you to get off at the exit—
“There wasn’t an exit. All roads lead to here, we both know that’s no accident.”
Hazel pressed her face into her knees.
“I don’t want to travel anymore. Each dome has been worse than the last.”
Gabriel petted the base of her skull. “I’ve never seen corruption of environment data like that last spot. The whole set felt twisted and wrong. Where’d you hear about it again?”
“Some private channel i got dropped into. Some kid said it had been abandoned for years but that the damage was minimal, said it was a near perfect approx of a mid century bunker. “
“AI geodomes aren’t designed for longer stays, the code has its own sort of scheduled obsolescence so people move on to the next destination. If kids from this channel were squatting there…” he paused. “but I’ve never seen it react so aggressively before. Never been expelled from Eden like that.”
“It was worth a shot, it was free, we’re hemorrhaging cash. Do we even have enough for tix out of here?”
Gabriel pulled cash out of various suit pockets.
“Hmm. Not for anywhere nice. But a seedier destination, sure. At least an uncorrupted one.”
“As long as there’s a shower I don’t care.“
Most of their money they made undermining the travel advisory services, collecting credit numbers and selling them en masse on quiet servers. They never charged the cards themselves, but they had to be so careful, wiring only dribs and drabs from offshore accounts. In the end, it was like having a weekend allowance or a minimal government stipend, more generous than unemployment but just barely. Only ever enough for the grimiest three day trips, two nights and an 8 a.m. checkout.
“Let’s go to the airport bar.”
“Fine.”
The nearest bar was in the back of a restaurant, the Johnny Kuprionis Memorial Bar and Grille, which largely dealt in crab fries and chicken tenders. Hazel and Gabe wove past high top tables to the back, where a 20-something in an ill-fitting black button down doled out unhealthy pours and thick sangria. Gabe handed the laminated menus back to the bartender and ordered them each a glass of shitty red wine.
Leaning back in her stool, Hazel examined the mural that extended from just above the top-shelf liquor, up the wall and across the ceiling. In the foreground, a bald man, presumably Mr. Kuprionis, stood on the deck of a crabbing boat, clutching a cubic wire cage that teemed with crabs. Behind the ship, a frigid ocean roiled, life-vests and crab-pots clung together in buoyant mounds, streaks of lightning illuminated gargantuan waves and turned them an unnatural green. It was a masterful piece, uncanny and artificial, lit from within, recalling the great American landscape painters of the Hudson Valley some two centuries earlier. (Gericault, Turner) Hazel untangled the coiling, delicate letters on the condemned vessel’s hull: “Destination”. She shuddered.
Gabriel misguidedly followed her gaze to the screen embedded in the wall above the bar that displayed rotating descriptions of impending departures.
“What sounds good to you, little monkey? Big city living? Rustic Scandinavian asceticism? Geodome glamping in the Brazilian jungle?”
He was on his third drink and his cheeks had colored, lending him the appearance and affect of a charming toddler. His blue eyes tended to sparkle indiscriminately when he was inebriated, and Hazel could already see a tidy stewardess eyeing him up from the other end of the bar. She despised the sartorial mandates of modern airlines — slim black and silver body suits with ribbed padding on the sleeves, matching ankle moon-boots, all betraying a calculated nostalgia for a 20th century vision of techno-utopia that would never be.
She looked down at her own jumpsuit and dusty boots. Not much better, but at least, she thought, genuinely tattered by a life of adventure, not subservience to a sinister travel conglomerate repackaging nomadism as growth. Then she chastised herself for her superiority, for indulging a fantasy of sidestepping participation in the travel economy. She was here, at the airport, spending money on drinks, spending carbon on travel.
And what adventure? They pursued the crumbling, tertiary destinations forgotten by the airlines and coasted on abandoned amenities. Gabe called it the “mini-fridge diet”. They were train-hopping degenerate crust punks without the dreads. Wincing, she fished a loose wellbutrin from the deep cargo pocket on the outside of her knee.
“Let’s go visit my mother.”
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The Ultimate Guide to Selecting Retractable Barriers for Crowd Control
When it comes to managing crowds effectively, the choice of retractable barriers can make all the difference. These versatile tools not only provide a physical barrier but also offer guidance and organisation in various settings. Whether it's a bustling event venue, a busy airport terminal, or a retail space with high foot traffic, the right retractable barrier enhances safety and streamlines crowd flow.
In this guide, we'll explore key factors to consider when selecting retractable crowd control barriers, ensuring you make a choice that aligns perfectly with your specific crowd control needs.
Understanding Your Crowd Control Requirements:
Before diving into the options available, it's important to assess your specific crowd control requirements. Consider factors such as the type of event or location, anticipated crowd size, and any unique challenges you may encounter.
When it comes to crowd control, one size does not fit all. Different events and venues have varying needs, and understanding these requirements is crucial for selecting the most suitable retractable barriers.
For example, a music festival with a large crowd may require sturdy barriers that can withstand high levels of activity and potential pushing or leaning. On the other hand, an upscale gala may require more elegant and sophisticated barriers that blend seamlessly with the event's ambience.
Types of Retractable Barriers:
Retractable barriers come in various types and designs suited for different purposes. Here are some popular options:
- Belt Barriers: Ideal for creating queues or cordoning off restricted areas, belt barriers offer flexibility and ease of use. These barriers typically feature a retractable belt that can extend to several feet, allowing for customised configurations. Belt barriers are commonly seen in airports, museums, and retail stores, where they efficiently guide people and manage queues.
- Rope Barriers: Often used in upscale settings or formal events, rope barriers provide an elegant and sophisticated look while maintaining control. These barriers typically consist of stanchions connected by velvet ropes or braided cords. Rope barriers are commonly used in theatres, hotels, and red-carpet events, where they add a touch of class to the atmosphere while effectively guiding and managing crowds.
- Post and Chain Barriers: Perfect for outdoor use or areas where a more traditional aesthetic is desired; post and chain barriers offer durability and visibility. These barriers typically consist of sturdy posts connected by chains, providing a more visible and sturdier barrier. Post and chain barriers are commonly used in parks, parking lots, and construction sites, where they effectively cordon off areas and provide clear visual guidance.
Material Quality and Durability:
When it comes to crowd control, durability is crucial. Look for retractable Barrier that are made from high-quality materials such as stainless steel or heavy-duty plastic. These materials can withstand wear and tear caused by frequent use and harsh weather conditions.
Stainless steel barriers are known for their sturdiness and resistance to rust, making them ideal for both indoor and outdoor use. They are commonly seen in airports, train stations, and stadiums. Heavy-duty plastic barriers, on the other hand, are lightweight yet durable, making them easier to transport and set up. These barriers are commonly used in temporary events such as trade shows, exhibitions, and concerts.
Ease of Use and Mobility:
Consider how easy it is to set up, dismantle, and transport the retractable barriers. Opt for models that are lightweight yet sturdy so that they can be easily moved as per your changing needs.
Retractable barriers should be easy to handle and operate, especially in fast-paced environments where quick adjustments may be required. Look for barriers that have user-friendly features, such as retractable belts or ropes that can be effortlessly extended and retracted.
Additionally, consider the weight and size of the barriers, as this will determine their portability. For example, if you need to frequently move the barriers around different locations, lightweight options with built-in wheels or handles will be more convenient.
Safety Features:
Safety should always be a top priority when selecting retractable barriers for crowd control purposes. Look for features such as locking mechanisms to prevent unauthorised access, reflective strips for increased visibility in low-light conditions, and smooth retracting mechanisms to avoid accidents.
Locking mechanisms are essential to prevent individuals from tampering with or bypassing the barriers. Some barriers have built-in padlocks or key lock systems, ensuring that the barriers remain secure in place. Reflective strips are important for enhancing visibility, particularly in dimly lit or outdoor environments. These strips increase the barriers' visibility, reducing the risk of accidental collisions or tripping.
Smooth retracting mechanisms are also crucial to prevent injuries. Barriers with slow and controlled retraction mechanisms ensure that the belt or rope retracts smoothly without snapping back abruptly, minimising the risk of injuries to users.
Conclusion:
Selecting the right retractable barriers for crowd control is essential for maintaining order, ensuring safety, and improving the overall experience of your event or venue. By following our friendly guide and considering factors such as your specific requirements, barrier types, material quality, ease of use, and safety features, you can make an informed decision that meets your needs effectively.
Remember, a well-planned crowd-control strategy contributes to a successful and enjoyable environment for everyone involved. So, take your time, assess your needs, and choose the retractable Barrier that best fits your crowd control requirements.
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Best stanchions and crowd control barriers in Canada - Alpha Crowd Control
We certainly have over twenty years of expertise to help you with your crowd control demands. This encounter helped us to formulate the greatest quality products in the very best materials. We have now designed a wide range of products to offer one of your needs, which include crowd control stanchions, crowd control obstacles, plastic-type material obstacles, retracting stanchions, rope and stanchion, accessories, and more.
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Fortuitous Encounters
Relationship: Lorraine Broughton x Reader
Word count: 4552
Summary: As the mission for the list dies down, you and Lorraine part with no intention of meeting again. What would happen if fate proves otherwise?
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Grab handles swaying, commercial ladies staring uncannily. Dull house whooshing by, straphangers on phones, sleeping, staring out the windows, hot and suffocating. Dozing off just to be awakened by the screech of the train on its tracks, the occasional trembling, the slightest swaying of bodies along with the train, the rolling of the suitcase.
It was everything that you caught in that 5 minute ride to work, nothing out of the ordinary, and today would follow suit.
The subway screeched to a start, you leant back, forced to stand for the seats in your compartment we're all occupied, fingers laced with the overhead handgrip that only aided your standing, feet steeling on the ground for some balance as you were crushed with the multitudes of people around you. Their pointed shoes, heels or flat were all squeezed together in a pile. A scene of perfume garnered your attention, familiar and making you weak-kneed. It was definitely not from the suited man behind you, the four school girls on your right sharing one screen of blue light, not from the mother behind you, thought it was only a presumption based the incongruous lunchbox peeking out of her stylish handbag, through the transparent plastic was a random mix of fruits and crackers, perhaps one or two packaged blobs of jelly? It didn't take a professional to know that it wouldn't fill an adult's appetite.
Then it smoothed out, the screech dissipating. You were plunged forward, losing stability amongst the crowd, feet scrambling, colliding right into a chest. For a moment your heart spiked, feeling the person stagger back three ragged steps with you adding to their weight, a hand grasping your waist instinctively.
You jolted to a stop, their arm most probably straining upon the doubled weight. You lingered in that position, and there it was, that perfume, wafting, consuming you, stalling your senses, you couldn't find the courage to step away for it.
A picture formed steadily in your mind, a splash of fair skin, sputtered with violent blemishes of dark red, purple, blue, yellow after a mission, she never let you care for the bruises, saying it grounded her. Then came her nude coloured lips, cut and cragged from the fist of another and packs of cigarettes. Finally, loose hair framing her face, rough between your fingers in bed, miraculously never sustaining any injury from a mission. It was a gratification act, for your and her, to weave your fingers through it, nails scratching her scalp tantalisingly, the one and only game that she always lost to you.
In another second you were back on your feet, nudging yourself away from her as a stranger would to the sudden intimate nature of a collision. Your heart roaring with embarrassment as you left your reverie.
"Sorry." You muttered with an awkward chuckle, an antsy scratch to the nape of your neck, you gripped the stanchion pole this time, practically twisting yourself around it, embarrassment pervading your complexion. The ground rumbled beneath you, further staving off the calm to your knees.
"Don't worry about it." Her voice was light, rather smooth for someone who virtually inhaled cigarettes. It caused a spike in your heart rate, your fingers drumming on the metal pole in a futile attempt to release your anxiety. Your mind drifted to her eyes, the ones you've forgotten, the last piece to your puzzle, blue or green? Yet you were staring at the honed tip of her obsidian coloured heels, vaguely reflecting the overhead lights that shown through the mop of heads, a miracle, a lead from heavens.
The tip clicked intentionally against the floor, your eyes shot to her face, did she realize you were staring? You were sweating, lips parted slightly, eyes blown in surprise and terror at the same time. Her eyes were blue, a light depressing sort of blue, it was the facade she showed everyone, only were were privy to the spark in her irises but not anymore.
Instead, they held your gaze in stark contrast, indifferent, it completed your puzzle nevertheless, made your eyes prickle with tears so sudden that you couldn't comprehend it, her scent all-encompassing, overthrowing all others, coercing you to stifle an unanticipated sob that fled from your lips, it was too late.
Eyes were on you, especially hers, watching you in confusion at the sudden burst of emotion, in a subway train no less! Then man backtracked from you as much as possible, the girls followed suit with a judgemental caution, the mother threw you an irritated glance, you must've reminded her of her bawling child, destroying her golden moment of peace and quiet.
At the height of your humiliation, the train shrieked to a stop, the doors peeled open, you struggled to rush out the doors, escaping her gaze, for a split second, you felt a tap of a finger on your shoulder in a distance she could easily reach, your emotions transcended, your chest a pang of pain. All the time reminded of her lips, her hands, her skin, the feel of her; her hair, her clothes, her shoes, the scent of her. And of her eyes that didn't spill a hint of recognition at your presence, salty rivulets streaked down your cheeks no matter how hard you clench your jaw and gripped your coat, your vision blurred, your lips trembled. Despite that, you knew the exact route to your office and so trusted your instincts to take you there, for you couldn't lift your head up to show the world what a person could do to you by doing nothing at all, unaware of the approaching footsteps behind you.
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Here's a link to my masterlist ^^
Comment, reblog, drop an ask! Feedback is greatly adored!
#Lorraine Broughton x reader#Lorraine x reader#Charlize Theron x reader#charlize theron x reader#Charlize Theron character x reader#Charlize Theron#Lorraine Broughton#Atomic Blonde#Atomic Blonde 2017
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Party Tents And Occasion Tents For Rental Firms
Whether you want a used tent to assist present shade and market your fruit at your orchard, or a big company tent designed for golf tournaments or charity occasions, we might help you get just the proper tent for the job. You can create your own unique theme to bring your dream marriage ceremony to life. Beautiful interiors, helpful accessories, and fabulous stage units create an excellent atmosphere in your special occasion.
As a outcome, all of our buildings are manufactured utilizing International Engineering Building Codes and experienced personnel. Plastic Tables Manufacturer in South AfricaEuro Tents also manufacture quite a lot of accessories to accompany your tent. We are plastic desk producers based in South Africa. Our tables can be utilized as operate tables, marriage ceremony tables, celebration tables, event & exhibition tables. Liri Structure can present numerous professional exhibition tents options and tent expertise for exhibitors to hold a high-level present. The exhibition tents with two flooring can provide extra space for the reveals, and visitors can get pleasure from exhibitions better in the consolation exhibition corridor.
We aspire to be the greenest pageant and to set the standard in sustainability and greening practices for festivals around the world. We continue to keep this work alive year-round with our dedicated non-profit, The Bonnaroo Works Fund. When it comes to customizing and upgrading your tent, the chances are limitless. Any tent may be dressed up in quite so much of beautiful ways to match your wedding ceremony's aesthetic. Reagan Kerr is the owner of Reagan Events, a full-service wedding and event planning firm based in Charleston, South Carolina.
According to Kerr, it is necessary to have your tent set up with as much time forward of your massive day as possible, especially when you're planning on in depth decor. "If ceiling installations or flooring are a half of the plan, placing the tent up in advance is essential," she says. "If the venue availability does not permit for an early set up, couples will either want to regulate how expansive their decor is or discover one other date the place they'll reserve the day prior," she says. Now that you understand the distinction between tents and canopies, you have to purchase the right one for you.
But there's hope for music lovers on the lookout for a non-mainstream experience in the blistering desert. It comes in the form of the festival’s digital marquee tent for sale music-focused Do LaB tent. Every yr, marquee names that don’t appear on the Coachella flyer — or have already carried out their marketed slot — hit the Do LaB stage.
TopTec’s Epic Tension Tents include a batwing design that simplifies set up and reduces labor value. TopTec’s Pole Tents continue to live up to their reputation throughout the trade as the most durable tents of their kind. The online exhibit was adapted from the Museum's 2018 exhibition of the identical name.
For Aluminium Tents standard sizes starts from 10m x 20m, 12m x 30m, 15m x 30m, 18m x 30m, 20m x 30m, 20m x 50m, 30m x 30m, 5m x 5m, 9m x 15m to 9m x 27m. Stretch Marquees and Fabric Structures is a multinational firm specialising in inflatable constructions, stretch tents and stretch fabric creations, with a global tent manufacturer reputation for creative fabric engineering solutions. Since 1979 Ohenry productions Inc. has been manufacturing heavy duty get together tents for the commercial tent trade.
Tents and canopies have plenty of similarities, so you’ll must determine on one relying in your wants. Both work properly, so ensure you’re picking the right shelter so you will marquee manufacturer get the most out of it. Party equipment - stage constructions, visual projector, stanchion, flipchart, marquee. The identical commonplace is envisaged in Abuja and the continent at massive.
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Re-Using Cardboard Packaging - 10 Best Knives For Cutting Cardboard
Why would someone want blinds? Well there are several major reasons - too hot and bright the summertime and freezing in the winter months. These blinds, with the right fabric solve all those problems!
Affix ton 5 song vuông at the unfastened side of your thread, by a length of 12 inches from finish. Sew all of your beads on the string towards the paperclip. The thread end up being solitary strand through the beads. The paper clip will keep back the pearls on the thread. Additionally you can lay the wound pearls on a work surface ended with felt, a fabric built of squeezed matted animal fibers. The felt will assist in preventing the pearls from straying and will defend them from a business table main.
Buy the very quality you can. (duh!) All within the knives I sell are from high quality manufacturers. These types of knives I would buy and own me. In fact, I do own several from a couple of these brands and most likely be buy some are more. So if you select Clip-lock roofing sheet a knife I sell you will at least buy a high quality knife and take care of point sole.
On other conservatories have got shallow stanchions and Clip-lock metal sheet then we fit the blind the actual joists. The joists themselves act for the stop and here we use the normal face fit clip.
Snap clips usually are sometimes rounded on one side and pointed at another. Often made of plastic or metal, are usually flat and should be bent downward to clip hair in make. To unclip the hair, simply bend the plastic or metal upward along with the clip will open. Although snap clips come in several sizes a good idea is used on fine hair since this clip's holding mechanism is certainly not strong. Snap clips are good for dressing your child's hair or using on personalized hair with the more youthful look. Snap clips are good for Clip-lock sheet toddlers through adults.
Use a screwdriver eradicate the screws on it handle. The plastic clip will have to have the use of pliers with regard to released just to you reason to twist it so how the interior door handle can swing expose.
Vary the material in each issue, not necessarily just from issue to make any difference. Appeal to divergent interests and points of view and requirements for details. It's fine to give many ways or advice, but a few human interest in there too. Report on an interesting recent event inside your personal life, or offer an opportunity to suit your readers to interact with with you, perhaps have a nice discount or enter a fun contest. Offer several "flavors" in each issue.
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Stanchions For Sale
Stanchions can be of various types, namely Retractable Belt Stanchions & Barriers, Post and Rope Stanchions, Plastic Stanchions for Ropes, Safety Stanchions etc. To learn about stanchions for sale, please visit this website.
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Alpha Crowd Control
The barrier is one of the most fundamental crowd control devices, so it's crucial that it's easy to use and maintain. The main benefit of our crowd control barriers is portability because you can move them around a location or venue as necessary to suit your needs. Additionally, they efficiently and safely keep sizable crowds away from hazardous areas. They allow planners to keep track of who enters and exits a specific area, which is another useful feature. Another great advantage is that you can customise these barriers with your business logo or any other design to increase brand. If looking for the best safety measure, then buying a belt barrier from Alpha Crowd Crowd is the ultimate choice.
#stanchions vancouver#wall mounted barrier#rope and stanchion#retractable stanchions#plastic barriers
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Do Tentage Rental in Singapore Include Event Barricade?
A static barrier is the first option. This sort of barrier, like a stanchion pole, is immovable and meant to be positioned at specified spots across the stadium. They are generally adjustable in height and can be manufactured of a number of materials, including metal, wood, and plastic.
https://educatorpages.com/site/slitegroup/pages/do-tentage-rental-in-singapore-include-event-barricade?
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Stencil
noun
A sheet, as of plastic or cardboard, in which a desired lettering or design has been cut so that ink or paint applied to the sheet will reproduce the pattern on the surface beneath.
The lettering or design produced with such a sheet.
The process of printing with such a sheet.
A door-post; a stanchion.
A thin plate or sheet of any substance in which a figure, letter, or pattern is formed by cutting through the plate.
The coloring matter used in marking with a stencil-plate.
transitive verb
To mark with a stencil.
To produce by stencil.
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Safety Products for Crowd Control | Crowd Control Warehouse
Buy retractable belt stanchions, post & rope stanchion, wall mounted belt barriers and crowd control barricades direct at the lowest wholesale prices. Shop now!
Visit Us:- https://www.crowdcontrolwarehouse.com/
#Stanchions#Barricade#Crowd Control#Plastic Chain#Jersey Barrier#Delineator#crowd control#stanchions#barricade#steel barricades#crowd control warehouse#plastic chain#plastic jersey barriers#classic stanchions
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PVC Sign Holder sản xuất tại Việt Nam
PVC Sign Holder sản xuất tại Việt Nam
GIẢI PHÁP HIỂN THỊ TỐT NHẤT VỚI QUẦN ÁO MICROFIBER: Hãy chọn gói sáu bảng hiệu 8,5 “x 11” trong suốt này để hiển thị dễ nhìn thu hút sự chú ý của khách truy cập. Chúng hoàn hảo để hiển thị các tài liệu quảng cáo trong cửa hàng của bạn, áp phích trong lớp học của bạn, hoặc thậm chí, giấy chứng nhận và giải thưởng trên tường văn phòng của bạn
DUYỆT ĐẾN NHỮNG MẶT BẰNG NHẤT: 8 giá đỡ màn hình acrylic…
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