#Diversified Holding Companies

[reportwire]

This fund beats the S&P 500 by using just 75 of its components. Here's how it works.

This fund beats the S&P 500 by using just 75 of its components. Here’s how it works.

What worked well during the years-long bull market through 2021 — a focus on growth, regardless of price — has ground to a halt this year. The rebirth of the value style of investing — and modest valuations overall — has taken hold. The approach taken by the Invesco S&P 500 GARP ETF has paid off through both bull and bear markets. Let’s begin with a 10-year chart comparing total returns with…

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine Part 7

Office Bae. The finale.

At AECOM, we believe infrastructure creates opportunity for everyone—uplifting communities, improving access and sustaining our planet. We’re committed to managing our business with the utmost responsibility and to always strive for better—be that reducing emissions, creating social value or diversifying our senior leadership and workforce. We understand both the urgency of the changes facing our society and our responsibility to act in an impactful and enduring way. We’re leading the change towards a more sustainable and equitable future, partnering with those who want to make a positive difference in the world…

Michelle Jones shared a look with Bret Stevenson behind the scenes, seemingly pleased with their new CFO holding down the company. He talked with such poise and intellect. The satin peak lapels of his classic tuxedo glistened beneath the geometric chandelier with crystal accents. He’s leaning against the bar, a whiskey in his hand, eyes twinkling. He’s putting on the charm, smiling, and looking damn good doing it. Michelle watched him closely, her eyes sweeping over his body, taking in the way his tuxedo is tailored perfectly to fit his well-built physique.

“Good choice, Bret. Honestly, having a fresh, young face for our company. He’s quintessential. Not to mention how handsome he is,” Michelle said.

Michelle Jones is a member of the AECOM board, giving direction to Bret Stevenson. She passes along shareholder input and is a part of an oversight system with some controlling power. Michelle, dressed in a champagne-colored slip dress and Rene Caovilla heeled sandals, grabs her glass of wine from the bar and proceeds over to him, a slight smile on her lips. The volume of her layered, sleek brown hair bounced with each strut. The topaz color of her skin appeared golden beneath the lights.

“Excuse me, is it alright if I steal this brilliant man away for a second?”

Erik Stevens looked over at Michelle with a smirk before shaking the hand of the man that he’d been conversing with. Erik took his place in front of Michelle, his gaze locked with hers.

“How do you like the cocktail party?” Michelle questions before a smile stretched across her generous and sensuous lips.

“It’s cool, I’ve been to plenty of these so I know what to expect.”

“I bet you’re excited to spend some time in your new office space.”

The corner of her glossy lips is upturned and eager. Erik’s forehead puckered and then his eyes glanced over her shoulder.

“There she is…baby, what was the hold up?”

Michelle scrutinized you. She followed Erik’s arm wrapping around your waist, observing the way his fingertips rubbed you there in small circles.

“Michelle, this is my beautiful date, my baby girl, Y/N.”

“Oh,” Michelle extended her hand to shake Y/N’s, “What a pleasant surprise! I didn’t know you brought a date. Nice to meet you.”

“Yes,” Y/N’s eyes sized Michelle up, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

She looked enticing. The red dress she wore has a sultry deep plunge neckline with clever draping that compliments her curves. It’s mid length just below the knee for an elegant, balanced look and a cinched waist with long sleeves. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail with long, flowing curly extensions. Gold hoops accented her ears and her feet are covered in patent so-kate pumps.

“We were just talking about how boring cocktail parties are,” Michelle added, “Same shit every single year,” she whispered.

“Well, it’s my first company cocktail event and I’m excited.” Y/N said before grabbing Erik by the chin, both of them sharing a smile.

“I think you’re gonna love it even more towards the end,” Erik spoke against your lips with a pleasantly rough voice.

Michelle could take a hint when it was time to make her exit, so she grabbed her wine glass and sauntered away to mingle.

“There, she’s gone. It’s really that simple.”

“You came in at the perfect time, beautiful. Listen, thank you for accompanying me tonight. It feels good to finally be able to show you off. You don’t deserve to be hidden, baby…”

“And miss my baby’s special evening as the new CFO?! You crazy?!” Y/N playfully shoves him, “I wasn’t going to sit at home in my sweats while you hold it down by yourself.”

“Damn,” Erik cracked a smile, “See, that’s why I love you.”

“Seriously, E. I’m always gonna be there. I love you too…”

Y/N loved a man who’s always sweet to you. Always wants a kiss, isn’t afraid to grab her hand or wrap his arms around her in public. Quick to show her off as his girl proudly. The slow jazz music set the mood perfectly as Erik guided Y/N over to his table. There are a few familiar faces that she recognizes and she waves to them on passing.

“That’s where I plan to make my speech tonight. Right there,” Erik’s hand points to an empty stage with a large banner with the AECOM company slogan.

“Are you nervous?”

Erik peered down above her, pushing in her seat like the gentleman he was before he took his place next to her.

“I only ask because I can tell. Baby…you got this.”

Erik glanced around the room and then his eyes fell to his lap where her hand grabbed his. He hummed quietly, a small smile gracing his lips before he took her hand, bringing it to his lips, and kissing her on her knuckles.

“I know, I just…don’t want to get up there and fuck it up, you know?”

“You are good at improvising. Half of these motherfuckers in here can’t keep up with you, E. You can talk circles around them. Don’t be so hard on yourself…”

Erik rubs the back of his neck, “I can’t flake. I gotta show them who Erik Stevens is.”

“There you go. That’s exactly what you have to do. Bret sees potential in you. I see potential in you.”

Erik studied Y/N’s face before leaning in to meet her soft lips. Y/N fell into his kiss, both of their lips moving in rhythm. The kiss became heated and it quickly turned hungry as her tongue roamed in his mouth. Erik slowly pulled away, his eyes blazing.

“If we start, we will not stop.” His voice is gentle and unhurried.

“But do we have to stop?” Y/N tried to kiss him again, but his hand is on the back of her neck now, rubbing there softly, staring deeply into her eyes.

“Yeah. Unless you want me to put you on this table.”

____________

“This young man here…”

Bret Stevenson pointed to Erik from the stage, a spotlight moving across the crowd to ignite Erik’s table. Applause grew and Erik stood from his seat, one hand smoothing down the front of his tux jacket while the other waved to the people cheering him on.

“There’s so much I can say about him. Great financial foresight, excellent communication skills, confidence, a deeply rooted understanding of business and the natural aura of a leader. I couldn’t have chosen a better man to work alongside me. Everyone, please, let’s welcome our new CFO to the stage!”

Some hooted and hollered, others clapped loud and proud. Y/N gave Erik’s hand an affectionate squeeze before watching him go. That smile with those adorable dimples was just as bright as the lights overhead. Y/N stood from her seat, eyes glossy and a proud smile. Erik stood before Bret and they shared a firm handshake with a pat on the shoulder. Now, he’s alone at the glass podium with a small angled microphone. The applause dies down and everyone takes their seats. Waiters began to circulate with champagne flutes bubbling a golden hue. Y/N wasn’t concerned with that, her man is up on that stage.

“Wow,” Erik’s eyes danced around the room, “last time I was up here, I accepted awards for my work with the company. Now, I’m the CFO. It’s still so surreal. I’ve been given this opportunity to really shape the company’s agenda. Ensure a strong financial performance. AECOM always stood for something great to me. I’m a philanthropist myself and to be able to improve the world—I couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. There is always room for improvement and I want to evolve as the company evolves. Look beyond what’s in front of me…”

Behind Erik, there is an enormous projector screen with a slideshow displayed. Each slide of photos is presenting Erik hard at work. Some photos show him out on business trips working within the environment hands on. Other photos show how dapper he is in his suits. There is even a photo that Y/N remembered being a part of during a department potluck.

“There are so many people I would love to thank for the opportunity and just being there. Bret, Jason Thomas, Barry Rowan, Monica Bradley. Thank you so much for everything. I’m looking forward to the next step in my career. It is an honor and a privilege to be here today and to be your new leader alongside Bret. I don’t know everyone in this room, but from speaking to so many new people that are a part of this company, you all do such amazing work. I grew up in Oakland and I was teased as a kid for being a nerd and wanting to improve my environment. None of that stopped me from becoming the man I am today…”

Y/N remembers the long talks late at night with Erik, his head in her lap with her fingers combing through his locs. He spoke so highly of his parents, both of which are no longer here. Y/N giggled when he walked down memory lane, reminiscing on the science fairs and the solar system that he built in his room. His first telescope. How much he enjoyed going fishing. How his mother loved to plant and she always dreamed of having a greenhouse. He could have easily fallen prey to the streets but he saw past that. He saw his potential. He wasn’t going to live up to the stereotype of a black man.

“…So thank you, AECOM. Thank you for believing in me. I won’t let you down.”

Applause broke the silence within the grand room and photographers lined up to capture the moment. Shortly after, Erik left the stage and joined Y/N at the table. After a few more speeches, the food began to arrive. Honey garlic glazed salmon, roasted red potatoes, grilled asparagus, rotisserie chicken, dirty rice, and oven roasted vegetable medley. Y/N was never left with an empty glass of champagne and the food was delicious. Towards the end of the meal, Bret stood up to say a few words, thanking everyone for coming. He couldn’t go without mentioning Erik again. Her eyes sparkled with ardor every time he smiled.

Erik felt it necessary to say a few final words to end the meal and even though he looked confident, her hand placed on his could feel the tremors. Y/N interlocked her fingers with his to calm him and he squeezed in response. What else did he have to say that was so hard to put into words?

“I forgot to mention that I would not have been able to get through my busy work days and even the Alaska trip without my beautiful woman, Y/N.”

Y/N bashfully smiled and prepared herself for what comes next. He was going to gush about her for the entire room.

“This woman is so hard-working. She shares the same amount of passion and concern about the environment as much as I do. She actually helped me out with several speeches of mine, one of which ended up with a famous quote in the New York Times. ‘The time to answer the greatest challenge of our existence on this planet is now. You can make history or be vilified by it.’”

Erik ushered for Y/N to stand with him. She smiles despite her very own nervous jitters and takes his hand.

“I fell in love with her the first day I laid my eyes on her. To have a woman who not only shares the same passion as you but someone who is caring, driven, fun, smart, and—and just such a good person. I know this has nothing to do with AECOM at the moment but I feel like she deserves her flowers. Please, let’s make a toast to Y/N.”

Everyone at the table and throughout the room picked up their new glasses of champagne and stood from their seats. Y/N did the same, never taking her eyes away from Erik. He held her piercing gaze as well.

“To Y/N, and a wonderful future with you. To traveling the world together, spending nights beneath the stars, watching the sunset from a mountain top, collecting seashells on the beach. This is to you…”

Y/N sipped from her glass and after three sips, she couldn’t control the tears streaming from her eyes. For a second, she thought he would pop the big question.

—————

It’s been a long week for Erik. No one said it would be easy. It’s strange waking up after a good night's sleep and not going into work. Y/N would be lucky to catch Erik before he left for work but the 800 thread count of his sheets and the TEMPUR-Cloud pillows had you sleeping in until 11 AM. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head before grabbing Erik’s T-shirt with the logo for his nonprofit organization embroidered on it. Y/N works alongside him as an environmental and climate change activist.

Fashion has always been a passion of hers. One of her proudest achievements is being able to collaborate with sustainable clothing brands such as Colored Organics and Everlane while also creating lifestyle and travel content. Y/N took a look at her phone and realized that today is the day she’s supposed to meet up with Regina to show her around the new home Erik surprised her with a week ago. He always wanted a home with contemporary architecture with an eco-feel and a roof garden. What he didn’t know was that she secretly had a greenhouse built in the yard in remembrance of his mother. Speaking of Regina, she was currently calling Y/N.

“Are we still on for today?”

She finally gets out of bed, careful not to trip over a few moving boxes.

“Yeah, I’m just getting out of bed. Why don’t you just meet me there? I may be ten minutes late.” Y/N said.

“So that means no lunch on the way?”

“Just pick me up something and I’ll meet you there. My good friend that’s finalizing Erik’s surprise wants me to have a final look at things.”

“I can’t wait to see what she came up with! Your man has been running around this company with his assistants following behind. How does he do it?”

“Because he was born to lead. I’m sure he’s got it all together. He doesn’t talk about work much when he comes home. It’s always how much he misses me and I’m always spoiled with his attention.”

“You’re living the dream you’ve always wanted. I bet Eric with the C is miserable.”

“Serves him right…I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the speech he gave about me.”

“What did he say?!”

“Basically how much I’ve helped him through the stress of work and how amazing I am and how in love he is with me. I cried a little because I wanted to hold it together.”

“And he didn’t propose?!! What is he waiting on?!!”

“Maybe that wasn’t the time. Whenever it happens, it’s an automatic yes.”

“Awww! I can’t wait for the day! Anyway, I’ll see you soon, girl…”

After her brisk shower and other early morning hygiene rituals, she get dressed in a matching lounge set colored sage, slipping her feet in a pair of Ugg Tasman slippers, making sure she had the remaining boxes packed in the back of her new white BMW X3. On the way over, stuck in traffic, she decided to call Erik’s work phone—a second cell phone that he purchased strictly for the job. His personal cell is always stored away for emergencies or non job related things but he hadn’t picked up the times she attempted to reach him. It rang three times before he finally answered.

“Hey, beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. I just got off of a zoom call and it looks like I’ll be traveling again soon.”

“Hello, handsome. I just wanted to hear your voice and let you know that I’m headed over to the house. Where are you traveling to this time?”

“It’s a small thing that will happen multiple times but I’m going to Australia. Remember I was telling you about how AECOM is expanding internationally? Well, we want to partner with environmentalists there to help with the wildfires. It’s a start but it’s a lot of work—thanks Sarah—sorry baby—”

“Listen, no worries. We can talk more when you get home. I love you.”

“I hate getting off the phone with you. I love you too. I’ll see you later.”

Erik blew you a kiss through the phone before hanging up.

__________

“I need it rented out for the evening and I need a nice dinner set up as well. The finest champagne for my beautiful girl. Don’t mess this up for me either, tonight is special…”

Erik paced his office while talking into his Bluetooth, the only time he had to finalize the romantic evening he had planned for you two. When he was a child, he remembered his parents' proposal. It was a trip to the zoo in the evening around Christmas, and his dad got down on one knee on a bridge decorated with colorful lights to propose to his mom. Erik had so many ideas of how he wanted to ask for your hand in marriage. Beneath the stars on a camping trip. On the Alaska trip. In your new home. He finally decided on taking you to your favorite childhood place and he had an elaborate evening of fine dining setup that will end surrounded by the beauty. This proposal plan is definitely his favorite out of all the options he could choose from. Erik and his photographer friend arranged a shoot first, then planned on having the proposal somewhere in the middle of it all. Erik loved the intimate and tranquil vibe of it all.

A part of him knew you would say yes. He could only hope you would. Erik could only see you wearing his ring and having his last name. It took him a long time to get here. Once a playboy until you walked into his life. He had come to realize that you are the most important person in the world to him. Erik cracked a smile as he imagined the blinding ring that will be on your finger, so eye-catching like a billboard announcing to everyone he knows and everyone you’re gonna know, that this woman is mine. She owns my heart. Erik is so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed one of his assistants enter his office. She lightly tapped him on his broad shoulder and Erik brought his eyes down to Sarah with a tablet in her hand and what Erik guessed was his information about funding for upcoming events.

“Should I come back, Mr. Stevens?” She spoke with caution.

“No, show me,” Erik leaned over to get a good look, Sarah taking a safe step back so she wouldn’t be caught taking a sniff of his vanilla teakwood cologne.

“It’s just some estimates on what we expect to spend. Are all the numbers good?”

Erik’s dark eyes studied the many zeros and while he agreed to most, a few unnecessary purchases bothered him, especially since he specifically spoke to Michelle about it.”

“Sarah, could you ask Miss Jones to come to my office please?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sarah sauntered out of Erik’s office.

Five minutes passed and Michelle Jones walked in dressed in a forest green maxi skirt with a black blouse and black pumps on her feet. Her usual silky straight hair is pulled back into a french twist with some strands framing the squareness of her face. She allowed his frosted glass door to close before walking towards his desk to take a seat across from him.

“Michelle, did you go over the final funding for the AECOM partnership event? It’s a few numbers that aren’t adding up.”

“I figured we could use some extra money to make the event more interesting. I mean, we’re sitting on a lot here, Erik. What’s wrong with a little bit more luxury? Gifts for the partners, a layout of fine dining—”

“We did that already. Do you understand how much it’s going to cost alone to get the resources and technology together for the Alaska deal and whatever else we have going on?”

Michelle remained silent and folded her arms across her chest defiantly. This isn’t the first time since Erik was made CFO that Michelle made decisions without consulting with him first. She may have walked all over the former CFO, but Erik wasn’t having it.

“…I’m talking millions of dollars, Michelle. I’m not saying we can’t have fun, but play time comes after.”

“Fine. I’ll make the changes and have one of your secretaries show you the new costs, okay?”

“That’s all I wanted. Thank you.”

Erik adjusted the collar of his tailored suit jacket and stood from his seat, walking to his door and like the gentleman he is, held it open for Michelle. She gave him one final look before walking out.

___________

“Ten minutes, huh?”

Y/N stepped out of her car with a roll of her eyes at Regina’s words. She walked the pathway that led to their gorgeous new home and accepted a green smoothie from her work bestie.

“Traffic is a bitch this time of the day, girl. Thanks for coming!” Y/N smiled at Regina.

“I wouldn’t miss it even if I tried! I’m probably more excited than you!”

Spread across an expansive double lot on Stone Canyon Road sat their colonial Mediterranean home. It exudes elegance and old world charm. The estate is a perfect retreat from the city with ample space for both entertaining and the everyday routines of life. Y/N opened the door and allowed Regina to enter first. She was immediately blown away. The striking entryway sweeps you into an expansive, airy living room with dramatic windows overlooking the lushly landscaped backyard.

Y/N started giving Regina a tour. The library provides a comfortable retreat to seek quiet while the formal dining room is at once grand and welcoming, making it easy to keep both families and guests connected over the dinner table. On the second floor, the elegantly-appointed primary suite closes off to the outside world, creating a sense of serenity and sanctuary. Many of the rooms feature clear glass French doors that open onto the verdant yard, which is filled with unique water features and mature trees that provide shade and greenery, making the estate the ideal place for both entertaining and peace. A home fitting for an environmental engineer.

Y/N ended the tour in the kitchen where Regina sat their Vietnamese food on the counter top. Y/N opened their wine cellar to grab a bottle of Chateau Suduiraut Sauternes 2016. She retrieved three wine glasses that were brand new and a corkscrew. A faint knock on the front door alerted Y/N to her friend, Sylvia’s arrival. She excused herself to open the door. Regina took that moment to uncork the wine and she filled the glasses almost to the rim.

“Hello Hello!”

Sylvia walked in with a friendly smile and bright, hazel eyes. She had a head full of loose, curly, brown hair with blonde highlights, and a tall, petite frame. She reached out to shake Regina’s hand and sat her YSL bag down on the counter.

“Are you excited? I bet you are, thank you,” Sylvia accepted her glass of wine, “I can’t wait for you to see it. I can’t wait for Erik to see it. He’s gonna flip out!”

“Y/N got herself a good one,” Regina tilted her glass of wine, “Good guys always finish first! Ain’t no last over here!”

“I hear that,” Sylvia responded, “Your momma love him?”

“Does she,” Y/N groaned, “She’s obsessed with Erik. She calls him more than me nowadays. He says she reminds him of his mother. I love that for him…”

“And your dad?”

Y/N couldn’t contain her giggles, “They are like two peas in a pod! You know how dads can be at first, but I was pleasantly surprised at my father! Joe hated Eric with the C.”

“Let’s toast. To a future with happiness and unconditional love…respect…kindness. Let’s toast to our black girl joy! And our love for our friend here. Y/N, we love you! We’re so happy for you! This home is beautiful! To Y/N!”

“To Y/N!” Sylvia raised her glass.

The three ladies clinked glasses and drank down some of the wine.

“Whew! This is good and smooth.” Sylvia said.

“Plenty to go around,” Y/N replied, “Now…the moment I’ve been waiting for. Lead the way, Sylvia!”

Sylvia couldn’t contain her laughter. She’d been working on this design for a while now. They walked out into the expansive yard and Y/N kept her eyes shut while holding Regina’s hand. Her footsteps halted and Regina’s audible gasp made her stomach churn with excitement.

“Okay…open your eyes.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly opened and the grip she held on her wine glass slipped.

________

Erik Stevens made sure to smooth the stress lines from his face before exiting his car within their four-car garage. He loosened his tie and released a deep sigh filled with frustration. Work has been kicking his fine ass. He didn’t realize his job as CFO would require a lot of cleanup. He had a long list of chores to do on top of prepping for his Australia trip. He’d just gotten news that some partners from Australia want to move forward with the in person meeting as soon as next week.

Erik had his proposal set within the next week. Now, he had to rearrange his plans and he hated last minute adjustments. He entered their magnificent home to the smell of good cooking and his mouth instantly watered. He hadn’t realized until now how hungry he was. Erik took off his dress shoes and hung his suit jacket, making his way towards the kitchen. There, he came face-to-face with a wondrous sight.

Y/N was removing a dish of mac and cheese from the oven that sizzled to perfection. She carefully sat it down on the stovetop and removed the oven mitts from her hands. Erik’s eyes took a lustrous tour of her body dressed in a black dress that was sheer and form-fitting. She even had on his favorite pair of heels. Those YSL Logo-Heeled Sandals in black patent. She looked up and almost jumped out of her brown skin from being startled.

“Erik! Baby, you scared me,” Y/N laughed, turning down the music she had been playing from her phone, “When did you get in?”

“Just now,” Erik walked up to her and dipped his head to kiss her forehead then her glossy lips, “Sorry I scared you…damn, baby girl…you look amazing.”

Erik twirled Y/N so he could get a good 360 of his woman. He wasn’t expecting a dinner and the dessert before him.

“I’m gettin’ fed tonight, huh, sexy?” Erik said with a bite of his bottom lip.

Y/N giggled, “All you can eat. Better save some room after all this food I made!”

“Baby,” Erik rolled the sleeves of his white button up shirt to his elbows, “You know I can put it away…”

He circled his arms around her waist and started peppering soft kisses along her neck. Y/N felt a flutter in her belly from the sensation of his pillowy-soft lips. The smell of Jasmine and vanilla on her neck caused him to nibble on her flesh. The sound of her soft breath shot straight to his big dick.

“Behave, daddy. Dinner first…”

“Dinner can wait,” Erik cuffed her ass in his hand with his face pressed against her neck, “You shouldn’t be this damn fine…”

“I want you to eat, daddy. You can have all of me all over this house after I show you your surprise…”

Erik paused. He peeled his lips from her delicious skin to stare at the side of her face.

“What surprise?”

“Just…a little something I’ve been planning…”

She escaped his attention by grabbing plates and silverware to set the dining table. Erik watched her with a curious brow raised. He didn’t like surprises.

“You’ll know after you eat, okay? Wash your hands and have a seat.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Erik went to the sink to clean his hands and after drying them he made his way towards the dining room. Y/N entered shortly after with his plate and a glass of red wine. The aroma of the smothered beef short rib, smoked kale, and mac and cheese caused his stomach to grumble. Y/N placed a napkin in his lap and kissed his cheek before sauntering away to grab her own. Erik didn’t waste time digging into his food. Y/N returned and she sat across from him with a content smile on her face.

“Good?” She questioned while forking some of her smoked greens.

“Good ain’t even the word, “Erik chewed his food and grabbed his wine to wash it down, “Shit is bangin’.”

“Thank you. How was work today?”

Erik’s left brow ticked up, “Too much to talk about. But there is an update on the Australia trip. I gotta leave by the end of next week.”

“Why?”

“The partners want to rush the process. My guess is they are testing us. Tryna see if we’re the right fit for the change they're advocating for. There’s a lot of flooding going on in the Southeast…bush fires…”

“How about the climate control program here in America? Before I left I remember that was going into effect.” Y/N said.

“Yes…that’s another thing that’s keeping me busy…and I’ve been trying to figure out how to divide duties. How am I supposed to control funding AND travel? It’s a lot…”

Y/N reached a hand across the table to calm Erik. The tension in his shoulders settled and he looked across the table at her with restless eyes.

“You’re the right man for the job, Erik. Brent wouldn’t have chosen anyone else. I’m proud of you and I believe in you, baby. Take it slow. None of this is going to happen overnight. It’s all a process…”

Erik raised her hand to his lips and placed a firm kiss there. She always knew how to calm him down.

“I hate bringing work stress home to you…”

“I mean…you could always take it out on me. You know I love it when you do it, daddy.” Y/N replied with a smile.

His eyes glinted with desire at her words.

“Come with me to Australia, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah. Why not? You don’t understand how hard it’s been since you left, baby girl. My assistants have been driving me nuts and Michelle—”

“What about Michelle?”

Erik watched Y/N’s face harden.

“…she’s been doing the opposite of what I expect her to do. I had to pull her into my office today about the monetary situation with this fundraiser we’re putting together.”

“Do I need to come up there?”

Erik chuckled. He knew Y/N would. Memories of Connie, Demetria, and Nicole popped into his head. He didn’t want Michelle to feel his future wife’s wrath.

“No, I got it under control. I don’t want you stressing about her. She knows I’m not the one to be played with.” Erik said.

“As long as she stays in her place…”

Erik gave Y/N a dimpled smirk, “So feisty…”

They continued to eat and Erik listened to Y/N talk about her non-profit he helped her form. He watched her with a transfixed smile and loving eyes.

“…it’s coming along so well. We’re working on clothes for kids now. I have to show you some of the designs.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” Erik ate the last bit of his mac and cheese before leaning back and patting his belly.

“Full already, daddy?”

Erik cut his eyes at her.

“Fed and happy not full. I still got room.”

Y/N got up to clean off the table and she had to stop Erik from trying to help her. She instructed him to stay put. Erik waited impatiently for her return and when she did come back, she had a blindfold in her hand and a cheeky smile.

“It’s time for that surprise…”

“Ahh, shit.”

Y/N laughed at Erik’s expression of confusion before walking up behind him. She placed the blindfold over his eyes and smoothed her hands down his shoulder before whispering in his ear. His chest heaved up and down from her voice.

“Are you ready?”

“More than ready…”

Y/N took Erik by the hand and he stood up from his seat. He allowed Y/N to guide him, his mind working to figure out what this surprise could be and where they were going. Soon, he could feel fresh air against his body and that’s when he realized they’d gone outside.

“Where are you taking me, Y/N?”

“Shhhh! Almost there…”

Their footsteps came to a stop. Y/N let go of Erik’s hand and he used his sense of hearing to track her movements. Eventually, she wrapped her arms around him.

“Before I take your blindfold off, I just wanted to say…I love you. I’ve been thinking about doing this for you for some time now…and a good friend of mine came through for me and put together something special. As hard as you work, you deserve a treat too. I know you don’t like surprises but..I know for a fact you’ll love this one…before I take the blindfold off, I want you to keep your eyes closed. Can you do that for me, daddy?”

“Yes…”

It had to be something meaningful. Y/N slipped his blindfold off and Erik kept his eyes closed.

“Open your eyes!”

His cognac eyes snapped open and Y/N witnessed the biggest smile appear across his face. His hands went in his hair. He took two steps forward, and he kept staring at her with disbelief at what he was staring at.

Sylvia designed two Gothic Arch Greenhouses. One is a garden room and the other is a modern retreat. The well-made conservatory was uniquely designed to cater to Erik’s needs. The shape matched and complimented the layout of their new home. It had an aluminum exterior with a wooden interior in Spanish cedar wood. It housed a vast selection of decorative elements and greenery.

“Baby…what the fuck? When did you—when did you have the time—”

Erik was speechless. Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement. She was overjoyed by Erik’s reaction.

“Go on! Go inside!”

Erik walked into the garden section of the greenhouse like a kid in a candy store. Y/N gave him room to explore. He named all the greenery, flowers, and succulents, amazed at what Y/N put together for him.

“I have my own greenhouse…this is so wild…”

“I made sure to have all of your mother’s favorites planted…”

Erik nodded his head, “I see…”

He actually stopped to smell the flowers. Y/N followed him around the garden relishing in his silence. She knew he was remembering his mother. All the stories of their little greenhouse.

“Got the well-drained, rocky, sandy soil…these hydrangeas look exactly how I remembered…gotta make sure we water them regularly…peace lilies! She loved these…”

Erik paused to gaze out at the many beautiful flowers and plants. Y/N settled next to him and Erik wrapped a hand around her waist.

“I don’t even have the words to describe how thankful I am to have you in my life…this is such a special gift…”

“Anything for you…you still gotta see the other side.”

Y/N opened a door that led them straight into the other side of the greenhouse. It was the perfect outdoor lounge area to retreat to on a hot day. Erik especially loved the interior design. He could come out and have a beer while admiring the nature surrounding him. He would propose to Y/N right now if he could. Erik picked her up and gave her a passionate, fiery kiss with some tongue. He stumbled over to one of the sofas and made her sit side saddle on his lap as he continued tonguing her down.

Erik was on a roll. She tried slowing him down by touching his face and pulling back a bit. Y/N looked at him with deep desire and love. Erik’s chest heaved up and down like he was trying to catch his breath. He wanted Y/N bad.

“You’re going to Australia with me. It’s not a request. I need you there…”

“Okay—” Erik stopped her from talking with his lips. She melted into his frenzied kisses again.

"You’re going crazy, aren’t you?" she asked with a chuckle, but his hands were on her nape pushing her head back to him so his mouth could continue ravaging hers.

His heightened sexual need flowed into her and when their lips separated for a moment, Erik groaned so hard she thought he was in pain. Their mouths collided again and Y/N whimpered while Erik grunted from the mewling sounds coming from her as their necks shifted from left to right for a while. When Erik started sucking on her tongue, his hand reached up and clutched at her breast and his touch made her squirm in his lap.

“You keep moving on my dick like that…Keep it up.” Erik warned.

“It’s your fault, I could cum right now just from your kisses,” Y/N whispered against his lips.

“That pussy wet? I wanna feel that wet pussy…”

His hand snaked up her dress and he slipped her thong aside to feel just how wet she was. He groaned and his eyes rolled shut. Y/N loved that look on his face. She loved that her pussy made him look and feel so desperate. Erik strokes her clit to a nice, hard bud and then he slipped a finger down to tease her opening. He tapped it with his middle finger and her back arched. Curling two fingers, he pushed up inside of her deeply, drowning her moans with his lips.

“Tight fuckin’ pussy…”

His words were punctuated with each stroke of his long, thick digits in her creamy cavern. Y/N buried her face into his neck, moaning weakly and inhaling the scent of his cologne. She could hear her pussy making noise around his middle and ring finger. She just knew she was making a mess all over him.

“Daddy gon’ fuck you real good…you deserve it baby…you deserve all of it.”

“Erik!” Y/N gasped, “Right there…”

“You ain’t gotta tell me this wet puss cumming. Just do that shit…do it…do it…do it…”

“Oh my gosh!”

Y/N’s chest thrust out and Erik licked her sweaty neck. She kept squirming all over his erection. That movement made him pry her legs open further. He reached up under her dress and pulled hard on her thong. She felt it rip in his hands and he lifted her up from his lap. Y/N stood up as he fumbled with his belt and the zipper on his pants. His tapered locs fell over his forehead making him look more powerful and sexy. She could feel the frustration coming from him when he couldn't get his pants unfastened quick enough.

When he finally released his stiffness, he shoved her dress up higher on her hips and didn't even give her a chance to think before he was making her sink her pussy down on him. Hands full of ass, Y/N wrapping an arm around his shoulders with her other hand fisting the front of his shirt, he thrust up into her, drilling her pussy ferociously. She bounced in his lap and threw her head back with a bite of her lip.

Erik needed to get up in her better. He twirled her on his dick so she could straddle his waist. Y/N gripped the back of the sofa, the straps of her dress falling from her shoulders. Erik pushed her dress down further and yanked her strapless bra down, titties swaying from the force. He latched onto a nipple while one hand wrapped her braids around his fist for leverage, causing her neck to extend. He started beating that pussy up again.

Erik popped a titty out of his mouth, "I couldn't wait for this dinner to be over, girl. Looking at you in this fuckin’ dress...I needed to be in my pussy," he said.

“Erik…fuuckkkkk…”

Each and every time he craved her the same as the first encounter. Y/N felt her lower back pop each time his dick thrusted up deep. She dug her nails into the back of the sofa harder. He feasted on her titties so good she was seeing the galaxy.

“Can’t…take…it…”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Erik barked out, “Ima make you take it.”

Y/N’s walls clenched up tight and she froze above him in suspended ecstasy. Her body shuddered against Erik’s solid chest and he slowed down his movements to give her a second to recover.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

Erik maneuvered Y/N onto her back and stood to remove his shirt and pants. Fully naked, body built and ready to fuck, he spread her legs at an odd angle and got down to eat her pussy. Erik wasted no time sucking on her clit. He sucked away as much cream as he could. Y/N dug her heels into his back and sat up to grab his hair. She watched him with a mixture of awe and delight eat her pussy. He had his whole mouth between her folds working overtime to make her cum in his mouth.

“Daddy…feels so good…huhhhuuhhhh! Keep doing it like that!” Y/N cried out.

She could hear his incessant slurping. She could feel his big lips. That skillful tongue. Her eyes crossed and her mouth dropped open.

“Mhm…mhm…”

That’s all he said. He didn’t have to say anything else. Y/N was creaming in his mouth. She almost scalped Erik with how hard she pulled on his hair. Erik removed his face from her sweet pussy and when he stood up his dick looked longer and thicker from her position on the sofa. Y/N sat up and took Erik’s big dick in her mouth hungrily.

“Damn, baby girl…”

He still had remnants of her pussy juice on his mouth and his facial hair. Each breath he took he could smell her pussy on his upper lip. It kept him bricked up in her jaws. She sucked all ten inches and tugged on his balls with her pussy spread open and titties out. Erik slapped her pussy lips so he could hear that wet and gushy sound he loved.

“That’s right, suck daddy up like that. Lookin’ real sexy with dick down your throat, girl. Ima gloss them pretty lips up with my fuckin’ nut…”

All he could think about was making her his wife. She was the total package. She was slurping him up so good Erik had to shake his head. Shit felt amazing. His pretty little slut. The girl he worked hard to make his.

“I love you so much, baby…uhuhhhhhhghh—”

Three more sucks and Erik’s dick was pulsating and spitting into her throat. His hips flexed with his release and Y/N’s sultry eyes connected with his. Erik’s lips poked out and his brows snapped together from the intensity of his release.

It was time to take this shit to their new bed and break it in.

Erik helped Y/N up and she undressed, leaving their clothes on the sofa in the greenhouse. They walked with Erik pressed against her back and his lips attacking her neck. She still had her heels on. Good. He loved the way it made her legs look. They made it inside and Erik stopped her just before they could reach the stairs. He pressed her back against the wall and started kissing her again. Y/N dragged her nails down Erik’s sweaty biceps. Erik pulled away reluctantly and then he rubbed her lips with his thumb before placing it in her mouth to suck.

“You ready for daddy to fuck you some more?”

“Mhm,” Y/N replied with a nod of her head while chewing on her bottom lip.

Y/N pushed away from him weakly and she started climbing the stairs. She looked back at him with those come-fuck-me-eyes and Erik raked his eyes up and down that body. He couldn’t take it. His dick was bouncing between his legs all hard. Erik caught up to her and Y/N gasped.

This man was about to dig her guts out on the steps. They didn’t even make it to the bed. The sight of her walking on wobbly legs and that big ass in his face he had to listen to what his dick wanted. It wanted more pussy. Erik gripped her waist and placed her on the steps.

She just let him get his pussy. He pushed her knees back and thrust into her pussy with her back digging into the steps. It was skin slapping, hard pounding. Y/N weakly grabbed at Erik’s arms but his constant motion had her losing her grip.

“I’m fucking this pussy up!” Erik growled in her ear, “Pussy just swallowing my dick all up…that’s why I can’t pull out now…”

“FUUUCK!”

“Damn, tugging on this dick…yanking on this pole like that…nasty bitch…”

Y/N drew in a sharp breath as her body convulsed with her release. Erik with his undeniable strength picked Y/N up and as he climbed the stairs he bounced her on his dick. Her toes curled and a series of emotions painted her face. Shock, lust, dumbfounded. He was screwing her brains out. They finally made it inside the room and Erik didn’t even bother turning on the lights. The light from the hall was enough. Erik’s dick slipped out of her and he put Y/N on her stomach.

“Bring that ass up…you know how I like it, baby girl. I told you I’m fucking you good tonight…”

“Umph,” Y/N arched her back. She could feel her pussy lips quivering with anticipation, “Like this, daddy?”

“Uh-huhhh,” Erik popped her on the ass, “Just like that. And keep that ass there. Don’t make me fuckin’ mad…”

“I won’t!”

Erik spread her cheeks and used his hips to sink inside. He went in nice and slow so she could feel every…single…inch.

“Oooh!”

“Yep,” Erik did it again, causing her pussy to queef, “It’s long ain’t it?”

“Fucking YES! So damn big! I love this big dick!”

“Show me you love it. Bring that pussy down on this dick.”

Y/N gripped the sheets and started fucking him. She threw it back and cried into the sheets. Erik would pop her cheeks if she didn’t go all the way down. He would even thrust forward to meet her backwards strokes if she didn’t behave. A sharp, single thrust that had her begging for him to stop.

“Cream all over this dick, lemme see it…good…fuckin’…girl…such a good girl…”

“Erik…”

Y/N froze with her climax. Her brain was fuzzy and she didn’t know if she had more left to give. Erik rubbed her cheeks and then he dragged his hands up to grab her by the hips. His thrusts increased to a back-breaking pace.

“Look at me…”

Y/N looked back at Erik.

“I love you.”

“I–lo–love you–too—UHH!”

“My nuts tight, baby…I’m finna nut in you—”

Erik pulled Y/N into his body, grabbed her neck from the front, and buried his face into her hair while he clapped them cheeks. Her eyes crossed and her mouth dropped open. He moaned into her hair, the type of moans to cum to.

“Uhhh…huhhh…ughhh…ahhhh…mmm…”

He sounded so damn sexy. Hips pistoning out of control, Erik painted her tight walls with his cum. When the tremors wore off, he slipped out of her and fell back against the bed. Y/N snuggled closer to him and rested her head against his sweaty chest. She stared down at Erik’s dick with their mixture of fluids. He rubbed on her sweaty back.

“You weren’t playing with me,” Y/N said with a grin.

“You know how I do, baby…I get you right every time.”

“Yes you do…”

——————

One Week Later:

They traveled across the Great Victoria Desert that stretched from eastern West Australia to the western half of South Australia, making it Australia’s largest desert. It’s a sand-ridge desert with many low, frequently tangled sand dunes and lunettes bordering playa lakes. There are few creeks and rocky outcroppings. Gibber plans can also be found. Eucalypt open woodlands, mulga woodlands, and acacia shrublands, are among the vegetation types found in the Great Victoria Desert. Habitats have largely remained undisturbed. Animals such as desert skinks, sand goanna, and hornbills occupied the desert among other things.

Four desert ATV’s traveled in sync towards their destination. Erik Stevens with a black bandanna on his head, aviator shades shielding his eyes from swirling sand, stood up in his seat, taking in the view. He was dressed in a washed-blue Henley with khaki cargo pants and steel toe, Timberland hiking boots in a brown color. Y/N sat with a desert scarf covering her braids and face, shades over her eyes. She wore a long-sleeve, fitted white top with camouflage cargos that hugged her hips and ass. She had a pair of HOKA hiking boots on her feet in a teal color. She gazed out over the vast area, happy that she came along.

“Alright there, bloke?!”

A fellow environmentalist named Parker was controlling the ATV to their destination. Parker had sandy brown hair and forest green eyes. Erik replied with a thumbs up and a smile.

“Your lady?!”

Erik looked down at Y/N to check on her. She lifted her shades and winked at him playfully.

“She’s perfect!” Erik replied.

“Almost there! Ten minutes!”

“You seeing all this, baby?!”

“Yeah!” Y/N shouted.

It was beautiful. She was going to enjoy this. Bret was in the first ATV with his mistress; Jane and the other two ATV’s were packed with other engineers including Michelle. They finally arrived in an area filled with tents. Their ATV slowed to a dirt, swirling stop and Erik jumped out. He opened Y/N’s door and helped her out. Erik led her towards the area and Y/N watched the others exiting their vehicles. She noticed Michelle straight away. She was wearing a form-fitting leotard in a sage color. She was too busy shaking her curls out because of the sand. Something must have touched her arm—some insect. She leaped away and started squealing. Y/N giggled to herself.

Stupid bitch.

“How was the ride over?”

One of the new environmental engineers that replaced Connie; Aaron, was walking over to Erik. He’s the youngest of the bunch and Erik spoke about him a lot. He said he reminded him of how he was. Aaron was tall and lanky with a curly fro and light-brown eyes. His wide grin was enough to let Y/N know that he had a good time.

“Great! Really great!” Aaron replied.

“My CFO, are you ready?”

Bret approached Erik and shook his hand firmly. Jane lingered in the background on her phone and Michelle stood beside Bret, her eyes giving Y/N a quick once over.

“All ready, boss. Let’s get to it.”

Bret held his hand out to Y/N, “Nice to see you again, beautiful. This guy still treating you right?”

“Oh, yeah! Nothing to worry about, “ Y/N squeezed Erik’s hand affectionately.

They all walked towards the area and a short, pudgy man with balding hair dressed like he was ready to wrestle crocodiles and a tall, fair-skinned biracial woman with close-cropped hair wearing a denim top with denim shorts, a bandanna around her neck, and hiking boots on her feet waved to them.

“Arvo! Welcome to Australia! I’m Jeanie,” she walked down a line shaking all their hands.

“And I’m Robert.”

“Let’s talk shop! I have a tent set up here with beverages and snacks until you all get back to your resort.”

Y/N followed closely behind Erik into a tent with fans circulating. She exhaled a longing breath that she would be able to cool down. Everyone got settled and introduced themselves to others in the room before getting down to business. Erik got up to present with Bret to the group. They had an entire presentation layout and Bret allowed Erik to have the floor.

“Hundreds of fires burnt, mainly in the southeast of the country, until about May of 2020. The most severe is happening as of recent, in 2022, peaking from December to January. The fires burnt an estimated 24.3 million hectares, destroying over three-thousand buildings, and killed almost one hundred people. AECOM is aware of the natural disasters happening here in Australia. Including the most recent—flooding. We would love to extend our support and partner with you on future projects. You’ve seen our constant pursuit in rebuilding Sudan and other parts of Africa. Allow us to pitch a hand at making sure the surrounding habitats and wildlife are safe…”

Erik had this knack for captivating an audience. It didn’t take long for the Australian environmentalists to be on board. This was much smoother than their Alaska trip. Erik opened the floor for questions, and he answered each one honestly and intelligently. Y/N found herself falling back into old habits of writing down important information. After all, he didn’t bring his new assistant. They took a break from working hard to mingle. Y/N helped herself to some Aussie Bites and water, taking a seat at an empty table while Erik did his thing.

“Mind if I join you…”

Y/N glanced up at Michelle and Jane making themselves comfortable at Y/N’s table.

Then what was the point in asking?

“Sure,” Y/N replied dryly.

“How’s everything, Y/N? Been good?” Jane asked.

“Yeah. Finally getting to do what I love and make a difference, you know?”

“What exactly do you do?” Michelle questions.

“I have a non-profit for environmental impact. I designed different clothes and partnered with other eco-friendly brands to boost my work…”

“How interesting. I’m sure Erik is pleased. Mr. Carbon Footprint…”

Y/N internally cringed at that nickname.

“If you don’t mind me asking…did you two hook up while you were working at AECOM?”

Jane looked at Y/N out the corner of her eye. She knew not to chime in. She was currently fucking the CEO. Just had his offspring three months prior.

“I do mind actually.” Y/N quipped.

Michelle narrowed her eyes threateningly. Jane could sense the tension.

“Y/N, I love your nails, very pretty,” Jane pointed to Y/N’s almond-shaped pinky-nude nails.

“Thanks, Jane.”

She could tell that Michelle was jealous. Envious of her relationship with Erik. A bitter bitch.

“I’ll see yall around,” Y/N stood up when she noticed Erik was ready to get back to work.

After another hour of planning their short work trip, they all hopped back into their designated ATV’s and made their way back to the resort. Y/N couldn’t wait to take a long bath and snuggle beneath the luxury sheets.

“Today and tomorrow will be work days for me. On our last day here, I have something special planned for us.”

Y/N leaned into Erik while they were on their ride back to the resort.

“A surprise?! All for me?!” Y/N replied with a giddy smile.

“All for you! It’s a surprise though. No guessing.”

“Unlike you, I adore surprises.”

It took them a total of forty minutes to get back and when they did Y/N didn’t waste time leaving the ATV. She was covered in sand and her skin felt itchy. They were staying at the Crowne Plaza Adelaide—a contemporary haven located in the city’s vibrant East End. It had spectacular views of the city and the famed Adelaide Hills from South Australia’s tallest building. Their things were taken in on trolleys while everyone checked in. It felt good to walk in and not have to sneak around.

“We have a King premium with a city view…”

Y/N accepted her keycard and Erik insisted that he could take their belongings to the room. They both took the elevators to one of the top floors and Y/N made her way to the room to hold the door open for Erik.

“This is nice…”

Their suite gave them a glorious view of the dazzling city. There’s a walk-in shower, with other hotel amenities and the bed looked nice and cozy with lots of space.

“How do you like it so far? You think we got a shot?”

“I do. They seem on board with it all. I believe they will accept your offer.” Y/N replied encouragingly.

“I hope so. I worked hard on this. Bret was ready to pull the plug but I pushed him to keep going.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik and rest her chin on his chest, staring up into his cognac eyes fringed with thick lashes.

“You got this, daddy…you always do. You’re the best thing to ever happen to AECOM. Bret wouldn’t be able to function without you. You could be the CEO and really show ‘em how it’s done…”

“Hmm, CEO, huh?” Erik cracked a dimpled smile.

“The best CEO. You’d take this company to soaring heights. You’d be a legend…”

Erik peered into Y/N’s eyes longingly. He lowered his head and kissed her, smiling against her lips.

“Shower,” Y/N tried to pull away from Erik but he had a tight hold on her, “We’re filthy!”

“Okay…”

Y/N got undressed and trekked that beautiful body into the bathroom with a seducing sway of her hips. Erik waited until she turned on the shower before opening one of his bags. He grabbed a black velvet box and checked to make sure she wasn’t in sight before opening it. Erik stared down at a white gold halo engagement ring with a 0.76 carat diamond. He studied it carefully to make sure it didn’t have any damage to it from travel.

A nervous sensation formed at the pit of his gut. He shut the box softly and then he released a shaky breath before turning to place the ring back in his bag.

“Erik?—”

He shot up from his bag quickly. Y/N was standing in the doorway in her naked glory, staring at Erik with a skeptical eye.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. All good. Just grabbing some briefs and a tank to throw on afterwards…”

“Oh, you won’t be needing that daddy,” Y/N gave him a sly smirk, “I want some dick.”

Erik’s eyes roamed her body. Her words had his dick chubbing up quick. He quickly removed his clothes and rushed into the bathroom.

—————

After two days of lackluster activity, it was finally their last day in Australia and the day of Y/N’s surprise. Erik made a room service order for breakfast instead of meeting Bret and the others downstairs. Their second day in Australia required a lot of touring and outdoor activity. Y/N joined them on the first half of the day, but Erik asked her to stay behind until he got back. He set up an entire day of relaxation for her. She went to the spa, and had a personal driver take her out for a bit of shopping and lunch. When Erik returned, they ordered food into the suite and sat in bed naked while watching Love Island.

Y/N was still sound asleep when their breakfast arrived. Erik grabbed their cart of food and set it up on a table for them to enjoy. He stepped over her designer shopping bags and returned to bed, climbing in carefully. Y/N’s serene face glowed in the morning sun that peeked through the slightly drawn curtains, bohemian knotless braids scattered across the pillow. Erik smiled, brushing his knuckles against her warm cheek. She was beautiful beyond words.Y/N stirred and stretched her limbs. Erik felt her lashes flutter against his chest before she let out a gentle sigh.

“Morning,” she murmured against his solid chest.

“Morning, Angel,” Erik leaned in to kiss her cheek, “I ordered us breakfast.

“Thank you.”

Y/N finally opened her eyes and looked up at Erik.

“Waking up to your face every morning just does something to me,” Y/N said.

Erik stroked Y/N’s bare arm, “I’m happy to have that effect on you…”

Y/N giggled before sitting up fully. She was naked beneath the sheets. Erik stole a kiss from her before climbing out of bed. Y/N excused herself to the bathroom and earned a slap to the ass while she brushed past Erik. It didn't take Y/N long to return. She was wearing her robe open. They tucked into their food and Y/N looked across the table at Erik with a questioning look on her face. He didn’t realize how hard he’d been staring at her.

“Erik, what’s up with you?”

He knew what was up with him but he couldn’t say at the moment.

“I’m just…happy to be here with you. I love you.”

“Aww, love you too, babe.”

Erik tried to settle his nerves while eating. He swore he wouldn’t be nervous about the proposal. But the reality of it all, and seeing this beautiful woman in front of him, he couldn’t calm down. In his heart, he knew she would say yes.

“Erik, did you hear me?”

“…huh?”

Y/N forked some of her eggs, “Are you worried about the Australia deal?”

“…Ever since I became CFO, I’ve done nothing but worry.”

“I’m gonna have to fix that…”

Y/N took a sip of her orange juice and stood up, making her way over to Erik. Erik watched her drop down on her knees in front of him, fumbling with his briefs. She looked up at him with a smirk.

“Take these off.” She whispered.

Erik chuckled before raising his hips, lowering his briefs. He was semi-hard and hanging over his balls. Y/N gripped him and started slowly stroking him to full capacity. She never took her eyes off of him. Erik’s eyes remained locked on hers.

“When I first laid eyes on you…when you walked into that office…something told me you were special…and I was correct…”

Erik parted his lips, revealing his tongue that swiped his bottom lip.

“I would watch you from my cubicle…peeking at you while you talked through your Bluetooth…played with your Rubik's cube…pace back and forth while studying your paperwork…I started developing a little crush on you…”

Erik had never been told any of this. His dick evolved in her hand in a matter of seconds. Veins protruding, tip seeping precum, and shaft rigid.

“…but I knew that it wasn’t right…I knew I shouldn’t have those thoughts…but the more we connected, the more I wanted to see what it would be like to kiss you…and touch you…” Y/N stroked his tip with her thumb, “I’m so happy that you felt the same…I just wish it was you first and not him…”

Y/N peppered soft kisses along his dick. Erik closed his eyes and savored the feeling of her soft lips on his hard dick. One of his hands rose to stroke her head. She started moaning with each kiss. Erik opened his eyes and watched Y/N sink her tight lips around him. Erik gripped the arms of the chair to control the urge to force her head down on his dick.

“Fuck…baby…that feels so good…”

His feet slid across the carpet. His pecs jumped. He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip. The slow sucking had him in a whirlwind. She was showing him with that talented throat of hers just how much she loved him. Their eyes connected and Erik almost bust on her uvula with that look she gave him. Such a nasty girl.

His brows knitted together each time she would focus on his tip. He was so close. She increased her pace and Erik couldn’t take it anymore. He palmed the back of her head and bounced her slutty mouth on his big dick. The gawk gawk gawk gawk grew louder and louder. Erik bit down hard on his pouty bottom lip, quads flexing and hips levitating from the chair.

“Fuck baby…dats it…uhhhhhh…drink this nut…drink this nut down…..huuuuuuuhhhhhh….”

Y/N emptied him like a insatiable woman. No cum left behind. She sat back and licked her lips. Erik held his dick at the base and watched Y/N tongue away a trail of cum from his tip.

“I needed that bad,” Erik threw his head back and laughed.

“I know you did!”

Y/N stood up and Erik grabbed her hand, pulling her onto his lap. He tongue kissed her nice and sloppy. That had her pussy good and wet, he knew that for sure.

“My turn.” Erik whispered.

He picked her up and placed her on her back on the bed. Y/N spread her thighs and then with one hand she stroked her clit to tease him. Erik crawled up onto the bed and Y/N pressed her foot against his chest. Erik playfully nibbled on her toes and his teeth grazed up her leg until he was situated between her thighs and staring into her wet flower. He strong-armed her legs to keep them out of his way, and then he used his tongue to savor her taste. Y/N threaded her fingers through his tapered locs.

“Eat that pussy…yes…”

Erik flicked her clit with his tongue at just the right angle that had Y/N squeezing his head with her thighs. Erik forced her thighs open and with furrowed brows and his eyes closed in bliss, he sucked and licked all over her puss. Y/N wiggled beneath his attack to her folds.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ERIK!”

Her nipples were hard, her clit twitched against his tongue, she looked pleasantly ruined. Erik added two fingers and sucked her clit into his mouth while finger-fucking her. Y/N sat up on her elbows to watch him. He looked up at her, watching her come undone. She moaned so angelic it was music to his ears. Her legs quaked from her orgasm and Erik kissed her pussy.

“Good girl…”

He made his way up to her and before he reached her lips, he sucked on her nipples. Y/N hooked her leg beneath his and forced him onto his back. Erik looked up at her with wide eyes. She reached down and pointed his dick at her pussy. Erik popped her on the ass.

“Get down on this dick…”

Y/N turned reverse cowgirl so Erik could have a better view. She threw her braids over her shoulder, looked back at Erik, and sank that good pussy down on his big dick. Erik was dizzy from the up and down motion of her ass. Her cheeks clapped against his hips. She moaned and talked her shit, taking what’s hers. What will be hers forever.

“You fuck this dick, baby. Get yours…”

“This my big, fuckin’ dick…”

“Show me…keep showing daddy…good girl..”

“Uhuh, I’m your good girl…no other bitch can fuck you like I can—”

“Gahdamn, baby…”

Erik gave her two appreciative slaps to her cheeks. She was correct. Ain’t no other like her.

“I can feel that dick getting bigger in me…pressing against my walls…you wanna cum?”

Erik groaned, “Make me cum.”

“What do I get for making daddy’s big dick cum? Do I get a present?”

You’re getting a ring on your finger and a baby in your womb fucking with me.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want…fuck…I’m close…”

Y/N bounced harder. Erik’s body seized up. He extended his neck and grunted deeply. Erik’s dick pulsated deep within her, covering every ounce of that lethal pussy with milky-white jizz. He was spent. She wore his ass out. Y/N leaned forward so Erik’s dick could slip out. He watched her push his cum out that wet ass pussy and he almost fucked her again.

“Nasty bitch…”

Y/N giggled, turning to lay next to Erik.

“The food is probably cold…”

“We’ll microwave it in a minute…let me rest my eyes…”

——————l

They sat in the back of a chauffeured car on the way to their surprise destination. Erik gripped Y/N’s hand tightly, admiring how beautiful she looked in one of the new dresses she purchased. It was an emerald green, strapless, ruffled fringe dress. She wore the Van Cleef and Apels earring, necklace, and bracelet set he purchased for her birthday. His favorite heels were on her feet and so was an anklet with his name on it. She covered her beautiful brown skin with a body shimmer that glittered in the light.

Erik wore a Ralph Lauren tailored velvet suit jacket in emerald with a white button down and a black bow tie and black slacks. Dior Derby dress shoes were on his feet, and he accessorized with a custom made Eliantte diamond watch and pinky rings. His locs were braided back—Y/N did it for him. Y/N remained blindfolded the entire ride. They arrived to take a jet and Erik hopped out, jogging around to open Y/N’s door for her. He held his hand out for her to take and she grabbed it.

He removed her blindfold and Y/N opened her eyes, staring at a personal jet. It was one of the best in Australia.

“Erik?!!! A jet?!!! Where are you taking me?!!!”

Erik smiled at her excitement. He grabbed her hand to stop her movements, leading her over towards the jet. He had her climb on first so he could make sure she didn’t fall. They settled in their seats and while the pilot prepared for take off, an attendant sauntered over to fill their glasses with champagne. Y/N stared across at Erik with glee.

“This is bringing back memories…”

Erik laughed, “Some of the best memories we’ve created. I don’t know though…tonight might top that…”

Y/N squinted her eyes at Erik.

“What do you have planned, Sir?”

“Drink your champagne.”

Y/N poured her lip, reaching for her drink.

“How long till we get there?”

“About an hour. Hour and a half…”

They stared down from the clouds at Australia below. Erik needed the distraction. He was too tense. Y/N kept him calm with her stories. He loved listening to her talk. They were descending after an hour and fifteen and Erik had to take a deep, calming breath. His jaw tensed as he unbuckled himself. He made sure Y/N was straight before they both exited the jet. Another car was waiting for them.

They entered the SUV and Erik made sure to put her blindfold back on before stealing a kiss. He squeezed her hand affectionately, staring out the window. His heart pounded against his rib cage. He could feel his hands sweating and shaking slightly. Y/N didn’t question it thankfully. The SUV slowed to a stop outside of their destination. Erik exited the car and held a hand up to the driver, stopping him from opening Y/N’s door. They left the car and Erik pressed forward, pausing directly in front of the entrance to their memorable evening.

“Okay…we’re here.”

Erik looks down at Y/N, taking her in before removing the blindfold.

“Open your eyes.”

She opened them on his command, and her hands went up to cover her mouth in shock. She stared at him with wide, shiny eyes. Erik smiled down at her fondly. There were people holding the doors open for them to enter.

“Erik…the aquarium?! We’re having dinner here?! This is so cool!”

She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Erik wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying her from side-to-side. He closed his eyes and planted a kiss on her neck.

Erik reserved the entire AQWA Aquarium in Western Australia. One of the best in Australia with an underground journey along their coastline. It has stunning exhibits and iconic creatures. Erik rented out the entire dining area for the evening and booked a photographer. They climbed the stairs carefully, greeting the workers at the door. Y/N took in everything with a bright smile.

They were given a guide to take them throughout certain areas before they had dinner. Y/N held Erik’s hand, stroking it with her thumb. He looked down at her and she met his gaze with loving eyes. It was an aquatic paradise. So many marine animals and colors. Y/N pressed her face closer to the glass, eyes wide and filled with thrill. Erik admired the way the motion of the water created patterns against her brown skin. He couldn’t wait to travel the world with her. His fingers grazed the ring box in his pocket with anticipation the further they traveled.

They made a pit stop at a gift shop and Erik purchased a large, dolphin stuffed animal for her as a souvenir. After an hour and some minutes, they finally entered the dining area. It was a large, undersea restaurant located sixteen feet below sea level. They would be able to enjoy their meal with 180–degree panoramic views of the water above them. Erik pulled out Y/N’s seat directly next to the glass so she could have a closer view. It was a fine dining experience to remember.

“This menu has a lot of seafood on it.” Y/N jokes.

“Says the woman who loves crab legs and salmon.”

“Sorry fishies,” Y/N whispered, “You’re just so GOODT.”

“Finger-licking good,” Erik added with a chef’s kiss.

They enjoyed lobster bisque, crab bites, and shrimp cocktail before their main dishes arrived.

“Let’s toast,” Erik raised his wine glass, “To many memories with you. To traveling the world. To love.”

“Here! Here!”

They clinked glasses and both of them watched each other take a sip.

Their plates of sizzling fish with roasted vegetables and red potatoes arrived. Y/N snapped photos of her plate before taking a bite. It was delicious.

“I love how intimate this is. When did you even have the time to do all of this?”

“I make a way. Took care of it before the trip.” Erik responded.

“You never cease to amaze me, Erik.”

“That’s the plan,” Erik elevated a single brow at her.

“I love you,” Y/N spoke softly.

Erik gave her a half-dimpled smile, “I love you too, baby.”

They finished their meal and Erik made his cue and a photographer was waiting to come out after the final act. Erik shifted in his seat, praying that everything worked out how he planned. He had to draw her attention to the glass.

“Look at all these pretty fish…”

Y/N gazed out at the fish swimming. The photographer started recording the encounter. Erik kept his finger to the glass, pointing at random fish to keep her attention. Music started playing, a saxophone rendition of Whitney Houston’s Saving All My Love For You. Y/N swayed in her seat, singing along to the love song. Erik watched her with glossy eyes.

“Baby, baby, look…”

He pointed to a diver making his way towards them. Y/N’s eyes bugged out in shock. The diver settled in front of her underwater. They waved their hand to her, and Y/N waved back. De’Ree I’m Kissing You started playing. Y/N giggled at the choice of song, since Romeo and Juliet was one of her favorite movies and the scene where Romeo looks at Juliet through the fish tank makes her cry. The diver pulled out a peace of paper, Y/N trying to make out what it said.

Erik watched her with a penetrating stare. The paper unfolded and the words were clear as day.

Y/N L/N Will You Marry Me?

She looked at Erik across that table. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth first. Erik stood as the song began to fade out, making his way towards her. The photographer drew in closer, Erik dropping down on one knee. Y/N gripped the arm of the dining chair with one hand while the other covered her mouth, eyes flooded with tears and shoulders slightly bouncing as she cried.

Where are you now?

Where are you now?

‘Cause I’m kissing you

I’m kissing you, oh…

“Erik…oh my god,” Y/N sobbed, “oh my god…”

He opened the box. Y/N weeped harder. Erik lowered his head to wipe his own eyes.

Marry me, Y/N,” he blurts out with a shaky voice.

“Erik…” She was in pure disbelief. Even after he expressed to her countless times how much he loved her. The song replaying again made the moment more beautiful.

“…Because I love you,” he says, staring up at her and taking her hand in his, “and I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up seein’ your face every morning. I want you to be the mother of my children, I want to see the world with you. I want to climb mountains with you and be challenged by you, I want to argue with you just so we can have crazy, hot, makeup sex…”

Y/N laughed at that last part as her tears fell. She was so stunned that all she could do was stare down at him on his knee, the white gold halo engagement ring with a 0.76 carat diamond brilliantly blinding her.

“…Marry me, because without you I’d be lost….and because I love your family like they’re my own…and because you’re my best friend and I want to grow old with you.” He starts tearing up, and it’s shocking because she’s never seen him cry. “Marry me, Y/N, because all I could ever think about since the Alaska trip was making you my wife. Say yes, Y/N.”

Y/N was blown away by the shock of it all. The big rock that he was proposing to her with, his meaningful words, how she was not expecting such a beautiful and heartfelt moment. She’d loved aquariums since she was a kid. Erik took careful consideration into making sure it was all perfect for her. To have a man like this in her life…she burst with happiness and tears leaked from her eyes even more. Y/N covered her face with both hands and bent forward, body shaking from the uncontrollable crying she was doing.

She could go on and on about how amazing Erik is; her Office Bae. He set the tone. He stepped up when her ex couldn’t even do that after so much time together.

He defended, protected, encouraged, and would carry the planet on his back for her. She finally removed her hands from her face, makeup still intact thankfully. Y/N straightened herself and fanned her eyes to control the tears. Erik stared up at her with tears in his eyes and a smile.

“HELL YES!!!!!!!”

Y/N jumped up and down, spun around, threw her arms up. Erik finally stood up and he couldn’t contain his joyful laughter. She held her hand out and he gently took her delicate hand in his, the breathtaking ring sliding down her fourth finger, a perfect fit like Cinderella’s glass slipper. He’s her Prince Charming.

“YES! YES! YES! YES!”

Throwing her arms over his shoulders, Erik’s arms circled her waist and he spun her around like a princess in fairytale endings. The photographer worked overtime snapping photos. Y/N stretched her hand out to admire the engagement ring, a cheesy smile on her face. She was all teeth and gums. Erik peppered kisses along her cheek while still holding her up off of the floor.

“I love you so much, I’m so fucking happy that you said yes,” Erik spoke with a hushed tone.

“It was always going to be a yes, baby! I’m so happy you came into my life…”

Erik finally put her down and he watched her admire and gawk at the size of the diamond. He chucked at her shocked expression, unable to keep his hands to himself. He gripped her waist, pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead.

“To forever with you…” Y/N said, looking up at him with a smile, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N grabbed his face and Erik leaned down, kissing her passionately. His tongue smoothed over hers in a sensual dance. Hearts racing, they both smile against each other's lips. She couldn’t wait to start their life together.

Mrs. Stevens had a ring to it.

Where are you now?

Where are you now?

‘Cause I’m kissing you

I’m kissing you, oh….

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Seven yoghurt balls on a plate drizzled with olive oil. The one in the center is plain; the others are covered in mint, toasted sesame seeds, ground sumac, za'tar, crushed red chili pepper, and nigella seeds. End ID]

لبنة نباتية / Labna nabatia (Vegan labna)

Labna (with diacritics: "لَبْنَة"; in Levantine pronunciation sometimes "لَبَنَة" "labanay") is a Levantine cow's, sheep's, or goat's milk yoghurt that has been strained to remove the whey and leave the curd, giving it a taste and texture in between those of a thick, tart sour cream and a soft cheese. The removal of whey, in addition to increasing the yoghurt's tanginess and pungency, makes it easier to preserve: it will keep in burlap or cheesecloth for some time without refrigeration, and may be preserved for even longer by rolling it into balls and submerging the balls in olive oil. Labna stored in this way is called "لبنة كُرَات" ("labna kurāt") or "لبنة طابات" ("labna ṭābāt"), "labna balls." Labna may be spread on a plate, topped with olive oil and herbs, and eaten as a dip for breakfast or an appetizer; or spread on kmaj bread alongside herbs, olives, and dates to make sandwiches.

The word "labna" comes from the Arabic root ل ب ن (l b n), which derives from a Proto-West-Semitic term meaning "white," and produces words relating to milk, yoghurt, nursing, and chewing. The related term "لَبَن" ("laban"; also transliterated "leban") refers to milk in Standard Arabic, but in Levantine Arabic is more likely to refer to yoghurt; a speaker may specify "لَبَن رَائِب‎" (laban rā'ib), "curdled milk," to avoid confusion.

Labna is a much-beloved food in Palestine, with some people asserting that no Palestinian home is without a jar. Making labna tabat is, for many, a necessary preparation for the winter season. However, by the mid-2010s, the continuation of Israel's blockade of the Gaza strip, as well as Israeli military violence, had severely weakened Gaza's dairy industry to the point where almost no labna was being produced. Most of the 11 dairy processors active in Gaza in 2017 (down from 15 in 2016) only produced white cheese—though Mustafa Eid's company Khalij had recently expanded production to other forms of dairy that could be made locally with limited equipment, such as labna, yoghurt, and buttermilk.

Dairy farmers and processors pushed for this kind of innovation and self-sufficiency against deep economic disadvantage. With large swathes of Gaza's arable land rendered unusable by Israeli border policing and land mines, about 90% of farmers were forced by scarce pasture land and low fodder production to feed their herds with increasingly expensive fodder imported from Israel—dairy farmers surveyed in 2017 spent an estimated 87% of their income on fodder, which had doubled in price since 2007. Cattle were thus fed with low quantities of, or low-quality, fodder, resulting in lower milk production and lower-quality milk.

Most dairy processors were also unable to access or afford the equipment necessary to maintain, upgrade, or diversify their factories. Since 2007, Israel has tightly restricted entry into Gaza of items which they consider to have a "dual use": i.e., a potential civilian and military function. This includes medical equipment, construction materials, and agricultural equipment and machinery, and impacts everything from laboratory equipment to ensure safe food supplies to packaging and labelling equipment. Of the dairy products that Gazan farmers and processors do manage to produce, Israel's control over their export can cause huge financial losses—as when Israel prohibited the export of Palestinian dairy and meat to East Jerusalem without warning in March of 2020, costing estimated annual losses of 300 million USD.

In addition to this kind of economic manipulation, direct military violence threatens Gaza's dairy industry. Mamoun Dalloul says that his factory was accused of holding rockets and subsequently bombed in 2008, 2010, 2012, and again in 2014, resulting in repeated moves and the loss of the capability to produce yellow cheese. The Israeli military partially or totally destroyed 10 dairy processing factories, and killed almost 2,000 cows, during its 2014 invasion of Gaza, resulting in an estimated 43 million USD of damage to the dairy sector alone. Damage to cow-breeding farms in 2014 reduced the number of dairy cows to 2,600, just over half their previous number. Damage to, or destruction of, wells, water reservoirs, water tanks, and the Gaza Power Plant's fuel tank exacerbated pre-existing problems with producing cattle feed and with the transportation, processing, and refrigeration of dairy products, leading to spoiled milk that had to be disposed of. Repeated offensives made dairy processors reluctant to re-invest in equipment that could be destroyed at any time.

Israeli industry profits by making Gazan self-sufficiency untenable. Israeli goods entering Palestine are not subject to import taxes, and Israeli dairy companies are not dealing with the contaminated water, limited electricity, high costs of feed, out-of-date and expensive-to-repair equipment, and scarce land (some companies, such as Tnuva, purchase milk from farms on illegal settlements in the West Bank) with which Gazan producers must contend. The result is that the local market in Gaza is flooded with imports that are cheaper, more diverse, and of higher quality than anything that local producers can offer. Many consumers believe that Israeli products are safer to eat.

Nevertheless, Gazans continue building and rebuilding. Despite significant decreases in ice cream factories' production after the imposition of Israel's blockade in 2007, Abu Mohammad noted in 2015 that locally produced ice cream was cheaper and more varied than Israeli imports. In 2017, the amount of dairy sold in 74 shops in Gaza that was sourced locally, rather than from Israel, had increased from 10% to 60%. Ayadi Tayyiba, the region's first factory with an all-woman staff, opened in 2022; it produced cheese, yoghurt, and labna with sheep's milk from affiliated farms. However, demand for sheep's milk products has decreased in Gaza due to its higher production costs, leading the factory to supplement its supply with purchased cow's milk.

The current Israeli genocidal offensive on Gaza has caused damage of the same kind as—though to a greater extent than—previous shellings and invasions. Lack of ability to sell milk that had already been produced to factories, as well as lack of access to electricity, caused an estimated 35,000 liters of milk to spoil daily in October of 2023.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System’s (Israel’s primary weapons manufacturer) landlord, donating to Palestine Legal's activist defense fund, and donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund.

Equipment:

A blender

A kettle or pot, to boil water

A cheesecloth or tea towel

Ingredients:

1 cup (130g) cashews (soaked, if your blender is not high-speed)

3/4 cup filtered or distilled water, boiled

1-3 vegetarian probiotic capsules (containing at least 10 billion cultures total)

A few pinches sea salt

More water, to boil

Arabic-language recipes for vegan labna use bulghur, almonds, or cashews as their base. This recipe uses cashew to achieve a smooth, creamy, non-crumbly texture, and a mild taste like that of cow's milk labna. You might try replacing half the cashews with blanched almonds for a flavor more similar to that of sheep's or goat's cheese.

Make sure your probiotic capsules contain no prebiotics, as they can interfere with the culture. The probiotic may be multi-strain, but should contain some of: Lactobacillus casei, Lactobacillus rhamnosus, Bifidobacterium bifidus, Lactobacillus acidophilus. The number of capsules you need will depend on how many cultures each capsule is guaranteed to contain.

Instead of probiotic capsules, you can use a speciality starter culture pack intended for use in culturing vegan dairy, many of which are available online. Note that starter cultures may be packaged with small amounts of powdered milk for the bacteria to feed on, and may not be truly vegan.

If you want a mustier, goat-ier taste to your labna, try replacing the water with rejuvelac made with wheat berries.

You can also start a culture by using any other product with active cultures, such as a spoonful of vegan cultured yoghurt. If you have a lot of cultured yoghurt, you can just skip to straining that directly (step 5) to make your labna—though you won't be able to control how tangy the labna is that way.

Instructions:

This recipe works by blending together cashews and water into a smooth, creamy spread, then culturing it into yoghurt, and then straining it (the way yoghurt is strained to make labna). It's possible that you could skip the straining step by adding more cashews, or less water, to the yoghurt to obtain a thicker texture, but I have not tested the recipe this way.

1. If your blender is not high-speed, you will need to soak your cashews to soften them. Soak in filtered or distilled water for 2-4 hours at room temperature, or overnight in the fridge. Rinse them off with just-boiled water.

2. Boil several cups of water and use the just-boiled water to rinse your blender, tamper, measuring cups, the bowl you will ferment your yoghurt in, and a wooden spoon or rubber spatula to stir. Your bowl and stirring implement should be in a non-reactive material such as wood, clay, glass, or silicone.

3. Make the yoghurt. Blend cashews with 3/4 cup just-boiled water for a couple of minutes until very smooth. Transfer to your bowl and allow to cool to about skin temperature (it should feel slightly warm if dabbed on the inside of your wrist). If the mixture is too hot, it may kill the bacteria.

4. Culture the yoghurt. Open the probiotic capsules and stir the powder into the cashew paste. Cover the bowl with a cheesecloth or tea towel. Ferment for 24 hours: on the countertop in summer, or in an oven with the light on in winter.

Taste the yoghurt with a clean implement (avoid double-dipping!). Continue fermenting for another 12-24 hours, depending on how tangy you want your labna to be. A skin forming on top of the yoghurt is no problem and can be mixed back in. Discard any yoghurt that grows mold of any kind.

5. Strain the yoghurt to make labna. Place a mesh strainer in a bowl, making sure there's enough room beneath the strainer for liquid to collect at the bottom of the bowl; line the strainer with cheesecloth or a tea towel, and scoop the cultured yoghurt in. Sprinkle salt over top of the yoghurt. Fold the towel or cheesecloth back over the yoghurt, and add a small weight, such as a ceramic plate or a can of beans, on top.

You can also tie the cheesecloth into a bag around a wooden spoon and place the wooden spoon across the rim of a pitcher or other tall container to collect the whey. The draining may occur less quickly without the weight, though.

Strain in the refrigerator for 24-48 hours, depending on the desired texture. I ended up draining about 2 Tbsp of whey.

6. If not making labna balls: Put in an airtight jar, and add just enough olive oil to cover the surface of the labna. Store in the fridge for up to two months.

7. To form balls (optional): Oil your hands to form the labna into small balls and place them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. They may still be quite soft.

Optionally sprinkle with, or roll in, dried mint, za'tar, sesame seeds, nigella seeds (القزحة), ground sumac, or crushed red chili pepper, as desired.

Optionally, for firmer balls, lightly cover with another layer of parchment paper and then a kitchen towel, and leave in the refrigerator to dry for about a day.

Place labna balls in a clean glass jar and add olive oil to cover. Retrieve labna from the jar with a clean implement. They will last in the fridge for about a year.

[reddest-flower]

Cuba broke through its colonial domination into freedom. From the mountains of the Sierra Maestra and from the cities came the torrential power of the people against the US-backed dictator Fulgencio Batista. ‘The revolution is made in the midst of danger’, said Fidel Castro as he led his band of peasant-soldiers from the hills into the cities. They had triumphed against remarkable odds. Quickly, the revolutionaries passed a series of decrees – just as the Soviets had – to draw the key classes to their side. To draw in the urban Cubans, the revolutionaries cut rents by half – sending a strong signal to the bourgeoisie that they had a different class outlook. Then, the revolutionaries took on the United States, whose government held a monopoly over services to the island. Telephone and electrical companies – all American – were told to reduce their rates immediately. Then, on May 17, 1959, the Cuban government passed its agrarian reform – the keystone of the revolutionary process. Land holdings would be restricted so that no large landowners could dominate the landscape and so that the US sugar industry could not strangle the hopes of the island. The most radical part of the reform was not the land ceiling itself, but the logic that agrarian reform would transform the stagnation of the Cuban economy and its dependence upon the United States. The law clearly stated that, from a socialist standpoint,

«The agrarian reform has two principal objectives: (a) to facilitate the planting or the extension of new crops with the view of furnishing raw materials to industry, satisfying the food requirements of the nation, increasing the export of agricultural products and, reciprocally, the import of foreign products which are essential to use; (b) to develop the interior market (family, domestic) by raising the purchasing power of the rural population. In other words, increase the national demand in order to develop the industries atrophied by an overly restrained consumption, or in order to create those which, for lack of customers, were never able to get started among us.»

The revolutionaries wanted to diversify their sugarcane island, produce food security for their people, remove people from desperation, increase the ability of people to consume a range of goods and engineer a people-centred rather than an export-centred economy. Long before Castro announced his commitment to communism, the regime had already developed a carefully thought out socialist platform.

The United States of America, having overthrown the radical nationalist government in Guatemala in 1954, was eager to repeat the task in Cuba in 1959. An embargo came swiftly, as did every form of humiliation possible against the Cuban people. The Cuban economy was structured around dependency to Washington, with the sugar bought by the US firms and with the island turned into a playground for American tourists. Now, the US decided to squeeze this little island, only ninety miles from the US shoreline. Gunboats were readied, a failed invasion tried in April 1961 at the Bay of Pigs. Cuba was vulnerable but also protected by the deep roots of its revolution. But would this protection be sufficient? Could Cuba, alone, be able to survive the onslaught from the United States?

On February 5, 1960, a leader in the USSR and an Old Bolshevik – Anastas Mikoyan – came to Havana to join Fidel Castro at the opening of a Soviet scientific, cultural and technical exhibition. A week later, Mikoyan and Castro signed an agreement for the USSR to buy Cuban sugar at the world market price (in dollars) and provide credits for the Cubans to buy Russian goods. The USSR would subsequently buy almost all the Cuban sugar harvest, even as the Russian consumer market could very well have been supplied by beet sugar from within the USSR. Prices fluctuated, but, on balance, the Cubans were able to find a regular buyer to take over from the United States. The Russians also provided over a $100 million in credits toward the construction of Cuba’s chemical industry as well as trained Cuban technical and scientific workers in the USSR. Diversification of Cuba’s economy remained on the cards, although it became clear that it would not be an easy task. In August 1963, Castro announced that diversification, as well as industrialization, would be postponed. Cuba needed to concentrate on its sugarcane harvest to earn the means to survive the embargo.

On February 24, 1965, Che Guevara addressed the Second Economic Seminar of Afro-Asian Solidarity in Algiers, Algeria. He had come to talk about the economic problems for a revolution in a post-colonial country. Overthrowing the former colonizer was not enough, Che said, since ‘a real break’ is needed from imperialism for the new state to actually flourish and not remain in dependency. How could the post-colonial state survive a hostile economic climate? Who would buy its goods – mainly primary, unprocessed goods – at a fair price, and who would lend it capital at fair terms to develop? Capitalist banks and countries would not provide the post-colonial state, particularly a socialist state, with the means to break out of the trap of underdevelopment. Banks would lend money to a post-colonial state at rates higher than it would lend to a colonial power. Expensive money would only put the post-colonial state into further difficulty, as it would find it hard to service its debt and see its debt multiply out of hand. To prevent this situation, Che argued, the ‘socialist countries must help pay for the development of countries now starting out on the road to liberation’. Trade between socialist countries must not take place based on the law of value of capitalism, but through the creation of fraternal prices. ‘The real task’, Che said, ‘consists of setting prices that will permit development. A great shift in ideas will be involved in changing the order of international relations. Foreign trade should not determine policy, but should, on the contrary, be subordinated to a fraternal policy toward the peoples.’

China, in 1960, offered Cuba credit of $60 million without interest and without a timeline for repayment. This was an enviable loan. But the scale was much smaller than the Soviet assistance. By 1964, the USSR had provided Cuba with economic assistance valued at over $600 million, while the Eastern European countries offered several hundred million more in aid and assistance. The USSR had also trained over 3,000 Cubans in agronomy and agricultural mechanization as well as 900 Cubans as engineers and technicians. Che recognized the value of the Soviet ‘fraternal policy’ both in terms of the training and in the prices offered. ‘Clearly, we could not ask the Socialist world to buy this quantity of sugar at this price based on economic motives’, he had said in 1961, ‘because really there is no reason in world commerce for this purchase and it was simply a political gesture’.

Red Star Over the Third World, Vijay Prashad, 2019

[bloop-bl00p]

Rewriting the Hollow Knight of Hazbin Hotel

So, am I the only one who finds it weird that Carmilla isn’t getting jumped by the higher class?

The girl has an arsenal of weapons that can kill Goetia’s members AND neutralize their powers. And she sells it at affordable prices? Stricker can buy those weapons for God’s sake! That’s how he kills Blue Bloods, shouldn't that ring a bell in the Royal Class?

It’s surprising that an uprising hasn't happened yet, some imps managed to build successful businesses (Bliztø, Crimson, Stricker, Barbie I guess?) imagine the disaster if one day they have enough of being treated as lesser and just happen to have enough money to arm a large population of imps.

I intended her to be Velvette's mother, but I changed my plan and turned her into my OC. One thing I don't like about Viv’s Hell is how small it looks. You're telling me that everyone either comes from somewhere in America or Europe, Nifty is the only Asian character, and Cherry Bomb is the only Australian but that’s not enough for me.

Add to that the fact that her POC characters are grey. Or that she simply doesn't add any features/accents that could help the audience guess which origin are her characters.

I know Velvette has an accent but that’s the only character who has one. They should have done more research to make everyone have a dialect at least as unique as Zestial.

Anyways, Carmilla is from South Africa. Don’t get mad at me, Viv’s Hell feels extremely small and I needed multiple POVs to diversify the backstory.

I want my Version of Hell to be a clash of multiple origins, musically speaking you can give the aggressive Spanish guitars to Vaga. Carmilla is associated with Kwela and Soul.

Nomsa Mbatha was born in 1959 and grew to be an impoverished black woman in South Africa during the apartheid, she eventually married gang members to survive.

The Gang was primarily focused on smuggling and economic activities and she participated as a new member when she got married. She partacked in smuggling weapons, drugs, and other contraband into prisons and served as well as an informant gathering intelligence from the outside world and relaying information to gang members in prison or on the streets. Nomsa also provided alibis. All of that is in exchange for protection and money to have a somewhat normal life.

She had her two daughters at 35, the two were twins. Nomsa interchanged between mother and Gang members and, unfortunately, had to bring the girls to do some of the dirty work.

The two girls died with their mother at 20 during a police raid. Nomsa was struck with guilt as she thought she was the reason Odette and Clara went to Hell with her.

In Hell, she renamed herself Induna and used her knowledge to start selling weapons, normal ones at first. Until she started commercializing Blessed Steels.

She didn’t get away with it, she was targeted by many Goetia members scared to lose their position of power since it’s the only thing that can kill them. It’s only through negotiation that she comes up with an arrangement with them with the help of Zestial who’s well-known and respected.

You need to be legally approved (A card to hold one in public) and only royal members have access to it Induna is the exception. The utilization is up to them once purchased.

The weapons are actually mostly harmless to The 72 Lesser Keys of Solomon. It’s the rest of the Goetia, their children who can be killed. The Seven Deadly Sins or The Other Fallen Angels are also safe.

Her employees usually seek the lost Angelic Weapons just right after extermination, they operate during the cleaning of roads and are trained to recognize blessed steel as they can't be noticed with metal detectors. They wear uniforms and it’s usually during these weapons harvesting that people follow them to steal from the company. It’s rare since her workers know how to fight but it happens and a small black market occurred from it, that’s where Stricker got his personal dagger. He also steals from the rich.

Details:

→ Nomsa speaks Zulu and Induna means leader of a group of warriors.

Nomsa means The Mother of Compassion and Mbatha can mean Protector. She’s a mother and the protector of her children.

→ The Twins work for their mother and she insists that they work indoors. One works to design the weapons, and the other tests them. Induna regularly trains them on how to fight and defend themselves.

→ Vaga worked for a few years with Induna and sees herself in her. She keeps her daughter safe the same way she tries to keep her brother out of danger.

My take on human Vaggie → here ←

Appearance:

Watch me fight my biggest enemies, front-facing, and side-profile. I feel like I messed up the head shape in the side profile.

Vivziepop when she learned it’s easy to moisturize and draw POC characters with actual features.

Anyway, I don’t really know what I want to do with her sinner's forms. I think I’m gonna make her a bear because Mommy Bear. I’ll keep the big paws as a way to say she has the weight of the people she killed on her hands. You could say…

“But she never killed anyone.”

Yes, but she still sold weapons that killed people later, willingly participating in a sin will get you to Hell.

That’s all for the rewrite.

[meret118]

A new report from Popular Democracy and the Institute for Policy Studies reveals how billionaire investors have become a major driver of the nationwide housing crisis. They summarize in their own words:

Billionaire-backed private equity firms worm their way into different segments of the housing market to extract ever-increasing rents and value from multi-family rental, single-family homes, and mobile home park communities.— Global billionaires purchase billions in U.S. real estate to diversify their asset holdings, driving the creation of luxury housing that functions as “safety deposit boxes in the sky.” Estimates of hidden wealth are as high as $36 trillion globally, with billions parked in U.S. land and housing markets. — Wealthy investors are acquiring property and holding units vacant, so that in many communities the number of vacant units greatly exceeds the number of unhoused people. Nationwide there are 16 million vacant homes: that is, 28 vacant homes for every unhoused person. — Billionaire investors are buying up a large segment of the short-term rental market, preventing local residents from living in these homes, in order to cash in on tourism. These are not small owners with one unit, but corporate owners with multiple properties. — Billionaire investors and corporate landlords are targeting communities of color and low-income residents, in particular, with rent increases, high rates of eviction, and unhealthy living conditions. What’s more, billionaire-owned private equity firms are investing in subsidized housing, enjoying tax breaks and public benefits, while raising rents and evicting low-income tenants from housing they are only required to keep affordable, temporarily.

. . .

Thirty-two percent is the magic threshold, according to research funded by the real estate listing company Zillow. When neighborhoods hit rent rates in excess of 32 percent of neighborhood income, homelessness explodes. And we’re seeing it play out right in front of us in cities across America because a handful of Wall Street billionaires are making a killing.

As the Zillow study notes:

“Across the country, the rent burden already exceeds the 32 percent [of median income] threshold in 100 of the 386 markets included in this analysis….”And wherever housing prices become more than three times annual income, homelessness stalks like the grim reaper.

That Zillow-funded study laid it out:

“This research demonstrates that the homeless population climbs faster when rent affordability — the share of income people spend on rent — crosses certain thresholds. In many areas beyond those thresholds, even modest rent increases can push thousands more Americans into homelessness.”This trend is massive.

. . .

As noted in a Wall Street Journal article titled “Meet Your New Landlord: Wall Street,” in just one suburb (Spring Hill) of Nashville:

“In all of Spring Hill, four firms … own nearly 700 houses … [which] amounts to about 5% of all the houses in town.”

This is the tiniest tip of the iceberg.

“On the first Tuesday of each month,” notes the Journal article about a similar phenomenon in Atlanta, investors “toted duffels stuffed with millions of dollars in cashier’s checks made out in various denominations so they wouldn’t have to interrupt their buying spree with trips to the bank…”

The same thing is happening in cities and suburbs all across America; agents for the billionaire investor goliaths use fine-tuned computer algorithms to sniff out houses they can turn into rental properties, making over-market and unbeatable cash bids often within minutes of a house hitting the market.

. . .

As the Bank of International Settlements summarized in a 2014 retrospective study of the years since the Reagan/Gingrich changes in banking and finance:

“We describe a Pareto frontier along which different levels of risk-taking map into different levels of welfare for the two parties, pitting Main Street against Wall Street. … We also show that financial innovation, asymmetric compensation schemes, concentration in the banking system, and bailout expectations enable or encourage greater risk-taking and allocate greater surplus to Wall Street at the expense of Main Street

.”It’s a fancy way of saying that billionaire-owned big banks and hedge funds have made trillions on housing while you and your community are becoming destitute.

. . .

Turns out it was Blackstone Group, now the world’s largest real estate investor run by a major Trump supporter. At the time they were buying $150 million worth of American houses every week, trying to spend over $10 billion. And that’s just a drop in the overall bucket.

As that new study from Popular Democracy and the Institute for Policy Studies found:

“[Billionaire Stephen Schwarzman’s] Blackstone is the largest corporate landlord in the world, with a vast and diversified real estate portfolio. It owns more than 300,000 residential units across the U.S., has $1 trillion in global assets, and nearly doubled its profits in 2021. “Blackstone owns 149,000 multi-family apartment units; 63,000 single-family homes; 70 mobile home parks with 13,000 lots through their subsidiary Treehouse Communities; and student housing, through American Campus Communities (144,300 beds in 205 properties as of 2022). Blackstone recently acquired 95,000 units of subsidized housing.”

In 2018, corporations and the billionaires that own or run them bought 1 out of every 10 homes sold in America, according to Dezember, noting that:

“Between 2006 and 2016, when the homeownership rate fell to its lowest level in fifty years, the number of renters grew by about a quarter.”

And it’s gotten worse every year since then.

. . .

Warren Buffett, KKR, and The Carlyle Group have all jumped into residential real estate, along with hundreds of smaller investment groups, and the National Home Rental Council has emerged as the industry’s premiere lobbying group, working to block rent control legislation and other efforts to control the industry.

As John Husing, the owner of Economics and Politics Inc., told The Tennessean newspaper:

“What you have are neighborhoods that are essentially unregulated apartment houses. It could be disastrous for the city.”

As Zillow found:

“The areas that are most vulnerable to rising rents, unaffordability, and poverty hold 15 percent of the U.S. population — and 47 percent of people experiencing homelessness.”

. . .

The loss of affordable homes also locks otherwise middle class families out of the traditional way wealth is accumulated — through home ownership: over 61% of all American middle-income family wealth is their home’s equity.

And as families are priced out of ownership and forced to rent, they become more vulnerable to homelessness.

Housing is one of the primary essentials of life. Nobody in America should be without it, and for society to work, housing costs must track incomes in a way that makes housing both available and affordable.

Singapore, Denmark, New Zealand, and parts of Canada have all put limits on billionaire, corporate, and foreign investment in housing, recognizing families’ residences as essential to life rather than purely a commodity. Multiple other countries are having that debate or moving to take similar actions as you read these words.

To address the housing shortage and bring down prices for renters and homeowners alike, the Harris campaign’s plan calls for a historic expansion of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit (LIHTC) and the first-ever tax incentive for homebuilders who build starter homes sold to first-time homebuyers. Building upon the Biden-Harris administration’s proposed $20 billion innovation fund, the campaign proposes a $40 billion fund that would support local innovations in housing supply solutions, catalyze innovative methods of construction financing, and empower developers and homebuilders to design and build affordable homes.

To cut red tape and bring down housing costs, the plan calls for streamlining permitting processes and reviews, including for transit-oriented development and conversions. The agenda also proposes making certain federal lands eligible to be repurposed for affordable housing development. Collectively, these policy proposals seek to create 3 million homes in the next four years.

The campaign plan cites the Biden-Harris administration’s ongoing actions to support the lowest-income renters, including its actions to expand rental assistance for veterans and other low-income renters, increase housing supply for people experiencing homelessness, enforce fair housing laws, and hold corporate landlords accountable.

Building upon these commitments, the Harris agenda calls upon Congress to pass the “Stop Predatory Investing Act,” which would remove key tax benefits for major investors who acquire large numbers of single-family rental homes (see Memo, 7/17/23), and the “Preventing the Algorithmic Facilitation of Rental Housing Cartels Act,” which would crack down on algorithmic rent-setting software that enables price-fixing among corporate landlords.

To make homeownership attainable, Vice President Harris’s proposal would provide up to $25,000 in downpayment assistance for first-time homebuyers who have paid their rent on time for two years. First-generation homeowners – those whose parents did not own homes – would receive more generous assistance.

Vice President Harris’s economic agenda also includes proposals to lower grocery costs, lower the costs of prescription drugs and relieve medical debt, and cut taxes for workers and families with children. The plan would restore the American Rescue Plan’s expanded Child Tax Credit, which provided up to $3,600 per child for low- and middle-income families for one year before it expired in 2022, and would enact a new $6,000 tax credit for families in the first year after their child is born. These measures to reduce expenses and boost household income would also improve housing security for low-income families, who often face impossible tradeoffs between paying rent and affording food, medical care, and other basic needs.

-----

Sorry for the length, but I thought this was really important.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi there! ^^ Can I request Zhongli/Kaeya/Dainsleif (separately) x artist reader headcanons? I’m not sure if it was once requested, if so just ignore it

Also if it’s too much characters just pick two

Zhongli is appreciative of basically anything. He loves to learn, and also loves to give his knowledge to people. One thing he hasn't done for a while is draw or paint. He's just never really had the time to explore the field, but he does love watching people paint or trying to figure out what the image is trying to convey.

He happened to come into your studio one day, planning to drop something off for you. You'd never really invited him in as you never found a reason to and he never pried into this part of your life. He felt that you'd let him in when you were ready.

When he knocks on the door you quickly run over to let him in, smiling brightly despite the paint that stained your face. He comes inside, trailing after you as he drops off the supplies he noticed you forgot in the morning. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek and get yourself set up again with the supplies you were missing.

He finds a seat you leave for models when you require one, curiously glancing around at your works. When you ask him what he's looking at he starts to point at specific ones and ask you questions about your process and inspiration. You find yourself talking incredibly animatedly about your process, not even noticing the enamoured look in his eyes as you talk at him. He's making mental notes to see if it'll help him plan out future gifts to buy you.

Dainsleif travels a lot, so he definitely sees very many scenic landscapes. With the creation of Kameras he was able to record them and bring them back to you to see, something you really appreciated. You don't think you'll ever be able to see the sights he does, so being given the photos whenever he returns is something you always look forward to.

He's known that you create for a living, almost wishing that he could settle down and do something so human. Spending his days creating might be something he could find himself enjoying, but he's got a responsibility to maintain.

One day, you take out a sketchbook that looks a little bigger than he would expect it to. It was almost the size of you and before he can ask you what's in it you start flipping through the pages, showing him some of drawings you did of the photos he gave you. Each of them has something he distinctly doesn't remember photographing, focusing more on them as each drawing continues to host them.

Finally, he realises that it's the two of you. Every iteration he's holding you, and the two of you are just enjoying each other's company. He gets a slight pang in his chest at the thought that you miss him so much you resort to drawing him, but he also can't help admiring the way you draw him. The way you see him is so sweet, Dainsleif melting a little.

He loves your works a lot, and asked if he could have some smaller prints to carry around. They help remind him that there's someone waiting for him to come home, folding the sheets of canvas carefully to avoid their ruin during fights or perilous conditions.

Kaeya is a little annoying but in the most endearing way. He loves seeing you draw, or looking at the finished products if you don't like having someone watch your creation process. He does get a little antsy if he can't watch, but he's very good at giving you your space and being ready to wait for the final product.

He's your biggest fan, proudly displaying your drawings around his office. Whenever people ask him who made them he always directs them to you, recommending that if they've ever wanted to get some artwork done you're genuinely one of the best people to consult.

Your confidence is really bolstered thanks to his constant praise and support, feeling better to experiment or create things you normally wouldn't. It leads to your portfolio diversifying wildly and you loved it all. Of course you still had your favourite way to paint but that doesn't mean you didn't like the experimentation part of it.

Sometimes, you like to ask Kaeya to model for you. He's great at doing so, totally working his angles and giving you looks that make your heart melt. It can be a little distracting at times but it's all worth it whenever you see the soft look he gets in his eyes when you show him the finished product.

He loves seeing himself through your eyes. You always draw him in such an ethereal manner, almost unrecognisable to him at times but he knows that it's him because whenever you draw him your pieces always take on a different quality. He can feel the love you have for him, and he won't admit it but he keeps every single rough draft you give him of him. They all remind him that you love him, and when he's having a really bad day just a glance at them can make it all better.

[alwaysbethewest]

Kingsman 2 fic: Stay Close to Me

Happy @pedrostories Secret Santa day, y'all 💃 I was thrilled when I received my assignment and saw that I'd be writing for my sweet friend @iamskyereads 😁 Skye, I hope you have a merry Christmas and I hope this little story helps make it bright. (Okay a quick note: generally speaking I don't believe in apologizing for your writing, but I do feel like a small apology is merited here. Halfway through writing this fic I started to panic because I felt like I wasn't really meeting the brief of your prompt 😬 I started wondering if I should start over from scratch but I was already too far into it. I accidentally wrote you... a case fic???? With a smidgen of romance sprinkled in. I'm sorry! Despite my stress over that realization I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you will enjoy it anyway!)

Title: Stay Close to Me Pairing: Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)/f!Reader Rating: Teen Word Count: 5.3k Content/warnings: Fake/undercover marriage! Statesman casefic! A little romance, kissing, coarse language, very mild peril and hurt/comfort, and a splash of alcohol. Reader is a junior agent and has some muscle but otherwise no physical/age descriptions. As with any good Kingsman fic, my first step was to disregard half of canon, so this is either pre-movie or an AU. Unbetaed but thanks as ever to @fleetwoodmactshirt and @mourningbirds1 for their hand-holding ❤️ Please let me know if you spot any typos/mistakes.

The Statesman offices are housed in a sleek highrise in Midtown, a 40-minute commute from your tiny apartment. To anyone who asks, you work in the marketing department, and you’ve learned enough by now to drone on about synergistic strategies for diversifying market shares to bore anyone listening, but to those in the know, behind passcode-guarded doors, you’re Agent Violette, junior analyst for the private intelligence agency hidden behind the national whiskey brand.

For a secret spy job, your work is actually fairly routine. Most of your time is spent doing research and compiling intel for agents working out in the field. Occasionally your boss sends you into the field yourself—little baby excursions to get your feet wet—and you won’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed the thrill. But your desk job is comfortable, and satisfying, and you’ve got no complaints.

It’s Wednesday, and the only sign something out of the ordinary may be taking place is the note you find on your desk when you clock in. It takes only a little of your codebreaking expertise to interpret:

9:15 AM—mtg w/ Agt. C rm 806

Room 806 is a teleconference room furnished with a small table and a handful of chairs. One seat is occupied when you get there.

Agent Whiskey raises an eyebrow at you from under his cowboy hat. The accessory is so out of place in the urban streets of New York City that when you’d first met him you’d wondered if it was an affectation—a marketing ploy to signal the authenticity of the Kentucky bourbon your company sells on the side. But while you haven’t worked closely with him, you’d quickly learned it seems he’s just… like that.

He slides a folder towards you and you accept it as you take a seat and don your glasses.

“Any idea what this is about?” he asks.

You shake your head. Just as you open your mouth to speak, the comms switch on and Agent Champagne appears across the table before you, via the technological wonder that is your projection spectacles. More high-tech and more secure than Zoom, they’re one of the many things that sets Statesman apart from lesser spy agencies.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Whiskey straighten up slightly in his chair.

“Jack!” Agent Champagne greets him. “How was Munich?”

“All good, sir,” he drawls. “You’ll have the full report this afternoon.”

“Very good,” the older man rumbles. He turns his attention to you. “And Agent, uh—” His eyes shift down to the notes on his desk. “Agent Violette. Good to have you on board.”

You’ve worked at Statesman for three years, but you’re still too low on the org chart to have landed on the director’s radar before this. He says your code name like vie-oh-let instead of the French pronunciation you prefer, but there’s an affability to him that makes it go over easier.

“Thank you, sir.”

“So, California,” he says, diving into the brief. Whiskey opens his file folder and you follow suit. The top page features a short itinerary and a character profile that you quickly learn is a new undercover alias. Violet Davenport. You like the name. She sounds high society. Glancing over to Whiskey’s file, you spot his alias and your brows raise involuntarily.

Johnny Davenport.

Hm.

“Vineyard owner out there is concerned about a potential theft. He’s received some threats and needs a couple of bodies on the ground to sniff out the trouble,” Agent Champagne states.

“Theft of what, exactly?” Agent Whiskey asks.

“Wine. Money. The usual. He’s got his personal wine collection stored on the premises. You know the business—some of those bottles are worth a pretty penny. Mr. Peterson—that’s the client—says he has a list of suspects for you to look at.” Champ waves a hand, looking vaguely unimpressed. “Obviously you’ll have to use your own judgment on whether any of his theories check out.”

“Sir, I don’t understand why I’m being sent on such a simple assignment,” Whiskey says. “No disrespect,” he adds belatedly, glancing at you. You give him your politest go-along-to-get-along smile.

Champ looks like he’s torn between amusement or annoyance at Agent Whiskey’s attitude.

“Same reason for anything, Jack. Politics. This client has close connections in the state government over there. If we can solve this simple problem for him, it may just lead to more prestigious cases. Ones you’ll feel are worthy of your valuable time.”

Jack should look chastened, but he doesn’t. He does stop arguing, though.

“I need a senior agent on the case. And Violet’s supervisor assures me she’s got the research and fieldwork skills to step up on this one. Your cover is a married couple on an anniversary trip, so I’m basically sending you on a paid vacation, here. There’s more information in the files you’ve got.”

Whiskey flips through the pages half-heartedly and gives a curt nod.

“Well!” Agent Champagne slaps his hands on the table decisively. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mazel tov!” With that he ends the transmission.

And that’s how you find yourself at the airport Friday morning with a diamond ring on your left hand and a disgruntled cowboy by your side.

The flight lands in San Francisco without incident, and Jack shifts into doting husband mode as you head to pick up the rental car the agency has reserved. He reaches for your suitcase to load it into the trunk.

“Let me get that for you, sweetheart.”

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile. “I’ve got it, hon.”

You lift the heavy bag with ease and watch his mouth purse for a second before he smiles back.

“I guess my baby’s stronger than she looks.”

The bored-looking attendant sees you off and Jack has you punch in the GPS destination while he eases into the busy freeway traffic. He’s a confident, slightly impatient driver, but you see him relax once you’re over the bridge and sailing smoothly north on Interstate 80.

“So what’s our game plan?” he asks as highway signs for Napa begin to appear, and you reach for your notebook and flip it open.

There’s only one bed.

You probably should have done the math on this as soon as Agent Champagne declared you a married couple, but in the whirlwind of arranging to leave town and the anxiety of stepping into your biggest field operation to date, it hadn’t occurred to you to worry about the precise nature of your accommodations.

Jack sets his bags down and flops onto the bed, letting the soles of his cowboy boots dangle off the end. It’s an exaggerated display of exhaustion, but you’re tired too after a seven-hour flight and another two hours in the car. His lanky body takes up the whole length of the bed and you try not to let your eyes linger as you contemplate the sleeping arrangements.

He picks up on your hesitation.

“This is where I’m supposed to do the gentlemanly thing and let you have the bed all to yourself, huh? Sorry, sister, not gonna happen.” His tone softens. “But I promise I don’t bite. There’s no reason we can’t share.”

The only couch in the room is a small, overstuffed loveseat that you can tell at a glance neither of you would enjoy reclining on for long. So you do the mature thing and agree to sleep with him.

Not like that.

Bill Peterson, the agency’s client, is one of those people who claim to be easygoing while in reality they exude nonstop nervous energy.

“I know exactly who it is,” he tells you in a hushed voice. You and Jack are in his office, under the guise of a private tour of the winery. Peterson has been going over what you already know from the file: that he has a high-value collection of wine held on the estate, as well as a hard drive storing what he’ll only describe as “sensitive” material; that he’s received several vague threats recently; and that with the hustle and bustle of harvest season upon them, he’s concerned his regular security won’t be sufficient to stop the would-be thieves.

“Oh?” you say. “Well, that will be very helpful, Mr. Peterson.”

“Okay,” he amends. “Maybe not exactly, but I can give you a list. Of suspects.”

“We’ve seen the list,” Jack tells him. “But what is it that makes you suspect these folks in particular?”

“They’re mostly other winery owners,” Peterson says. “Everyone on that list was present at a party I attended a few months ago where I—let slip some details about my collection. It was only after that the letters started.”

You and Jack exchange a glance. You’re both wondering if “let slip” isn’t code for “bragged loudly.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t gone to the police?” you ask. His eyes narrow.

“I value discretion,” he says tightly. “Anyway—I’m not sure they’d consider the threats actionable.”

“Can we see them?” Jack asks.

“Of course.” He retrieves a small stack from his desk drawer. You and Whiskey put your heads together to pore over them.

They’re all written by one person, in slanted, blocky handwriting.

YOU WILL PAY.

YOU WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.

YOUR EMPIRE WILL CRUMBLE.

WE WILL CRUSH YOU.

“Is there another one?” you check. “There are five envelopes but only four notes.”

Peterson hesitates, then shrugs and shakes his head. He’s lying, but you don’t push it.

“There is one other thing,” he says. “I keep seeing this blue truck—but it’s like he doesn’t want to be spotted. I see it slow down like he’s scoping out the place, but then he speeds off as soon as he sees I’ve noticed. I tried to get the license plate but it was covered in mud.” He scoffs. “We haven’t had any rain in months.”

Jack has him describe the vehicle and where he’s seen it, while you take notes.

“Alright, Mr. Peterson. We’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.”

“Thank you. Oh—here.” He hands you a pair of vouchers for a free wine tasting. “They come with the tour. One thing you should know about Napa—you’ll only really blend in if you’ve got a glass of wine in your hand.”

Jack’s code name is Whiskey for a reason. He’s a spirits man through and through and he doesn’t give the tasting room a second look, ushering you out to get back to your room to regroup. Admittedly, it’s only 10 AM, but you would have enjoyed a few sips of merlot. You’re craning your neck a little to look at the wine list posted by the door—just out of curiosity—when he startles you by taking your hand in his. You look at him. He’s staring ahead, holding your hand like it’s nothing as you walk side by side. Finally, your brain catches up and your nine credits of college acting classes kick in and you plaster a loving smile onto your face, leaning closer.

In the privacy of your little rented cottage, you pull out your notes again to review.

“Peterson is lying about something,” you start. Jack nods distractedly.

“Yeah—listen, before we get into that, I need to ask you. You jumped when I held your hand back there,” he observes.

You feel your face heat with embarrassment. He’s calling you out on your inexperience, the rookie agent who can’t even play-act for a simple assignment. You can do it, you know. Being undercover in the field is just still new to you. He could help you instead of being critical.

“Sorry—”

“It’s my opinion,” he says, with a slight frown, “that a man who doesn’t treat his wife a certain way is no man at all.”

You’re lost, suddenly. “Sorry?”

“What I’m askin’ is, do I have your permission to touch you like you’re my wife when other people are around?”

Oh.

Something about the way he’s worded it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“Oh. Yes. Touch me like…?” You swallow. “Like how, exactly?”

He gives you a steady look.

“Intimately.”

That’s fine. You’re fine with that.

“Right. That’s—” you nod, maybe a little too emphatically. “That’s okay.”

You look down, fingering the pages of your notebook again, trying to refocus on the more analytical side of the job, when another thought occurs to you.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt.

“Shit, Violet, that’s part and parcel of it.”

“It’s Violette,” you tell him with a frown.

“Sorry.”

“Do you even know my real name?”

“Of course I do,” he says. You don’t push it but you also don’t know whether to believe him. He’s shown little interest in working with you this entire week.

Jack takes a step towards you.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So you don’t jump like a rabbit when I do it in public.”

You take a breath. Suck your bottom lip between your teeth involuntarily.

“Okay,” you tell him.

Your eyes fall shut as he leans in. You feel his fingers steadying your chin, tilting your face to meet his, and then his lips touching your mouth, light, tentative—teasing, your mind prompts, and the thought makes you feel flushed again. When you don’t shy away he presses closer and you’re not sure which of you is to blame when your lips part and his tongue brushes yours.

You were expecting it, so you don’t jump, but you feel a little trembly when he pulls away. He doesn’t step back right away—instead, his lips hover over your skin, mustache coarse against your soft cheek, as he tucks his mouth by your ear and quietly, intimately, says your name.

“So you think Peterson is lying,” he says, picking up the thread from before.

“Um,” you say, forcing your brain to switch back to work mode. Your whole body feels warm. “Yes. Don’t you think he seemed shady?”

Jack shrugs. “Call me jaded, I think most people are shady. But I agree with you. He lied about the missing letter. I fuckin’ hate when clients do that. What do you think about the blue truck he saw?”

“I think that could be something.”

You open your laptop and with a few keystrokes you’ve used a Statesman backdoor into the DMV system, where you enter the make, model, and color of the vehicle Peterson had described. There are no matching hits within Napa County, so you expand the search. It’s an unpopular color, so there are only a few dozen matches in the state. None of the owners’ names are on the list of suspects you’ve been given.

“He said he hasn’t seen it around town, only driving by his property. And we don’t know who owns it. So how do we find the car?” you wonder.

Jack is silent for a minute. You watch as a slow smile spreads across his face.

“I have an idea.”

This case originated at Statesman’s Kentucky headquarters, so Agent Ginger Ale is your tech liaison. It’s clear from their dynamic that she and Agent Whiskey have worked together before. Having her voice in your ear is a source of comfort as you carry out Jack’s great idea—which you’re not 100% sure you’re on board with.

“Don’t you need some kind of license to operate this?” you ask tentatively.

“Technically, on paper, he has one,” Ginger offers. “Well, Johnny Davenport does, anyway. As of twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s a balloon and a basket, how complicated could it be,” Jack grouses. This doesn’t exactly raise your confidence.

“Just don’t crash this one, Jack,” she pleads.

“This one?!”

He shakes his head. “You have one helicopter fail on you and they never let you live it down. Don’t listen to Ginger.”

To his credit, Jack pilots the hot air balloon much more smoothly than you’d expected, and after some time you feel yourself relaxing and enjoying the view. It’s early October and the landscape is a mix of green and brown from the last of the summer heat. Tidy rows of grape vines are bordered by houses and larger wineries, copses of trees, and fields dotted with grazing cows. Tiny workers move methodically among the vines, busy harvesting fruit to be pressed and fermented. Through it all, highways and winding roads run alongside the properties, and this is where you refocus your attention.

Ginger has programmed your binoculars to register any vehicles matching the description of the blue truck you’re seeking. You train the lenses on the backroads and driveways, looking for private hiding places it could be stashed.

The whole endeavor feels like a long shot, and you’re just on the verge of suggesting you give up and head back to base when the binocs let out a high-pitched beep of recognition, zooming in on your target.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. “I can’t believe this worked.”

“I told you it would,” Jack says, looking smug. “What is that place?”

Ginger has looked up the coordinates before you have a chance to do it yourself.

“It’s a winery… Double Loop Vineyards. Do you guys know that name?”

You recognize it immediately. The owner is one of the names on Bill Peterson’s list of suspects.

You and Jack exchange a look.

“Guess we’re goin’ wine tasting at Double Loop,” he says, and he turns to start your descent.

The tasting room at Double Loop Vineyards is a large, tastefully decorated space that looks like it was converted from an old barn. It’s all dark wood and ceiling beams, and a bar runs along the back and right side walls. When you and Jack step inside, you’re greeted by a tall young woman with a pixie haircut and striking cheekbones. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Eva.

You settle in front of her at the bar and she pulls out a pair of glasses and pours a splash of white into each to get you started. You take a sip and peruse the small menu on the bartop.

“She’ll have the red flight,” Jack says, “And I’ll just have a glass. Can you recommend me something… full-bodied?”

As he says it he palms your hip suggestively, pulling you to him a little closer. You laugh, mortified but amused despite yourself, and he shoots you a wink.

Eva takes it in stride. “I can offer you a cabernet sauvignon that’s got legs for days.”

“That’ll do me just fine, thank you.”

You’re the only visitors in the tasting room for the moment so you have her undivided attention. She’s skilled at making small talk to keep you charmed and at ease; eventually she asks something more personal.

“So I’m planning to propose to my girlfriend soon,” she tells you. “And I’m trying to figure out how to do it. I’m like crowdsourcing ideas. You two are such a cute couple—can I ask how you got engaged?”

You and Jack exchange a glance and you give him a sweet smile. “You tell it, honey.”

“Well,” he says, keeping his eyes on you for a long moment before he finally looks away to face Eva, “I knew I wanted to marry her, and I had this whole plan in mind. I wanted something special for my Violet so I was going to take her on a trip—my buddy has this little cabin on the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen—and make her favorite dinner, and sit down with a glass of something nice. And then I was going to present her with this beautiful piece of hand-carved wood that spelled out, Will. You. Marry. Me.”

He pauses to take a sip of his cab while Eva says, “Aww,” and looks at you like, what a sweet partner you have.

“Now the thing is,” he continues, warming up to the story, “as Violet can tell you herself, I have never carved a single thing in my life. And somehow, like a dumbass, I was convinced I could make this plaque and do it perfectly. But it looked just awful. And it was taking me so long trying to get it right I could tell she was starting to wonder if I was stringing her along.”

You shake your head in protest and he laughs. “You were! You’d look at me like, why has this fool not married me yet.”

Eva laughs, too. “So what happened?”

Jack lets out an aggrieved sigh. “What happened was, I caught the flu. Just the most dog-sick, pathetic man, all sweaty with fever and miserable to boot. And Violet never hesitated, she bundled me up and cooked me soup and tolerated my whining and she’d read me to sleep when my eyes couldn’t even focus on the TV. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I thought, I need to hold on to this woman forever, and I asked her right then and there.”

His voice cracks a little on the last sentence and you’re shocked to realize your own eyes are damp with tears. You’re not sure which part, or how much, but something in that story sounded true and it’s left you with a strange sense of heartache. You lift his hand to your mouth and press a kiss across his knuckles, watching his face soften.

“Okay,” Eva says. “So I guess I’ll add ‘get the flu’ to my list of ideas.”

“I don’t recommend it,” Jack tells her, “but I don’t not recommend it.”

As you finish your flight and Eva rings up a couple of bottles you’ve chosen to purchase—you’re not sure if these classify as company expenses, but you enjoyed them enough you’ll pay out of pocket if you must—she asks where else in the wine country you’ve been to so far.

“We spent some time at the winery right next to the place we’re staying—actually, we got to meet the owner there, what was his name, baby?”

You keep your tone casual, but you watch her face as you reply. “Bill Peterson, I think it was?”

Eva’s expression falters, just for a moment, before she recovers and plasters on a polite smile. “They’ve got a great pinot noir over there.”

“Not as good as these,” you tell her, just to see her smile turn genuine.

A tour group walks in just then so you take your leave and step outside into the late afternoon sunshine. When Jack takes your hand this time you let him, and you don’t mind it.

The blue truck is parked out back. You walk along the side of the building, just a pair of happy tourists slightly buzzed on red wine out to take in the view, until you get close enough to make note of the license plate. Back in your own car, you run a search on it and identify the owner: a young man named Lucas Trent. The address on the registration is in Paso Robles, a town 250 miles south of here, but you do some digging and find he’s a vineyard worker at Double Loop.

“So what’s the connection to Peterson?” Jack wonders.

“Look at this.” You point at the screen and he squints. “He’s only been at Double Loop for six months. Before that—”

“He worked for Peterson,” Jack finishes. “So he’s mad about getting fired and wants to get back at his old boss.”

“Maybe,” you say, frowning. “We don’t really know yet. But it’s a theory.”

“It’s a good theory,” he insists.

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, mulling it over.

“Tell me this, rookie,” he says. “You ever been on a stakeout?”

On your first ever stakeout that evening, you quickly learn a few things:

Stakeouts are cold. Stakeouts are boring. And rental cars are not designed to accommodate them.

You shift uncomfortably for the fifth time in twenty minutes.

“How do we even know he’ll show up tonight?” you ask. In the quiet of the night you keep your voice hushed.

“Call it intuition,” Jack says. You can tell he hates sitting still this long, too, but he’s clearly built up a tolerance for it over the years, because he’s not wriggling around nearly as much as you.

“Can I ask you something?”

He grunts an assent.

“That story about how you proposed—how did you come up with that?”

He pauses.

“I just—made it up,” he says.

“I thought it seemed…” you start. He gives you a sidelong glance. “Never mind. You’re a good improviser.”

After a minute, he says, “I was engaged once. A long time ago.”

“Oh.” You bite your cheek, holding back your questions.

“She died,” he adds. Your heart drops.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course,” you say, helplessly.

Never in your life have you been more grateful to see a criminal approaching than when you see the familiar shape of Lucas Trent’s blue truck appear down the road.

“Ha,” Jack says, looking a little less glum. “What’d I tell you. Intuition never fails me.”

You take deep, silent breaths, trying to control your fast-beating heart as you creep behind Jack to follow Lucas inside the building. He’s got a key to Peterson’s winery; he must have stolen it before he left the job, you think. He heads down the hall, past Peterson’s office, and disappears behind a door.

Jack motions for you to wait a moment, listening intently outside the door. You hear nothing but the quiet thump of Lucas’s footsteps, growing fainter until there’s only silence, and finally Jack eases open the door. You’re faced with a short flight of stairs heading down into a cellar. The two of you tiptoe down the stairs.

You nearly bump into Jack at the bottom when he stops dead in his tracks, still hidden in the shadows. Peering around him, you see that Lucas isn’t alone in the room. Bill Peterson is here, too, standing next to a small wooden desk.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bill demands. Lucas stares at him sullenly. “You came here to steal from me, didn’t you? You didn’t think I’d be down here.”

“I just want what’s mine,” the young man growls. “You’re the thief, not me.”

Lucas steps further into the room, toward the back wall. The space is filled with racks of carefully preserved wine bottles—Peterson’s precious collection, you register—and a pile of empty wooden barrels, stacked two high.

“Those bottles are insured,” Peterson calls after him. “You’ll get caught if you try to sell them.”

Lucas says nothing, just continues walking until he reaches the wall. At the back of the cellar, he pushes aside a tapestry to reveal a combination safe embedded in the wall. He glances over his shoulder with a smirk, and punches in the code.

“How the fuck do you know that number?” Peterson roars, finally scared. He rushes past the racks of wine, suddenly worthless compared to whatever is on the flash drive Lucas has just retrieved from the safe. When they start to tussle over it, Jack finally steps in.

“Hey!” he yells, striding into the light. The men look over, startled, and then Peterson looks relieved. He lets go of Lucas, seemingly confident that his hired security will take care of the situation, and retreats to stand next to Jack.

“Get that back from him,” he tells him. Jack gives him a long, unimpressed look, and then turns his focus on Lucas, who’s starting to look slightly panicky now that he’s outnumbered.

“Listen, son. This will all go a lot easier if you just put that back where you found it and walk out of here with me.”

“You don’t understand,” Lucas protests. “He’s stealing from everyone. This is the proof.”

Peterson shifts on his feet, looking guilty. “Bullshit,” he says. “You resent me for being the boss, but I’ve worked for every penny I’ve got.”

Lucas lets out a humorless, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, you work real hard. You must break a sweat making copies of your accounts so you can lie about the numbers. I bet you have blisters on your hands from shortchanging your workers.”

Jack makes a mistake here—he takes his eyes off the suspect to look at Mr. Peterson in a new light, trying to gauge which of them is telling the truth. And in that split second, to your horror, Lucas hurtles forward and shoves the stacked wine barrels, hard, knocking both Jack and Peterson onto the ground.

You make a mistake, too, and he gets on your case about it afterwards. You let Lucas slip past you in your rush to reach Jack’s side. He looks dazed and angry and his legs are trapped under the hundred-pound barrel. Gathering your strength, you lift it off of him and set it upright, then fall to your knees to check him over.

“Jack! Are you alright?” You feel carefully along his legs, then gently at the back of his head, running your fingers over his scalp to check for bumps or bleeding.

“I’m okay,” he mutters. “I didn’t hit my head.” But he winces as you help him up, and he’s moving a little gingerly when he takes a step. “Might’ve tweaked my ankle,” he admits.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Peterson yells. “You let that little shit get away with my property.”

“Let me ask you this, Mr. Peterson,” Jack growls. “Was it true what he said, about the double accounts?”

“I don’t see how that matters,” he insists angrily. “I hired you to do a job, and I expected a lot better.”

“I’ll tell you why it matters,” Jack tells him. “I don’t work for people who lie to me. Consider the contract dissolved. You can get your ‘property’ back on your own.”

“Actually, you got lucky, Mr. Peterson,” you call back over your shoulder as you help Jack walk over to the stairs. “If we had gotten our hands on that drive, we would have been obligated to turn it over to the IRS. Statesman has connections in the government, too, you know.”

And with that, you leave him sputtering and pale, alone with his precious wine.

It’s 3 AM when you get back to the room. Jack’s ankle isn’t broken, just twisted. You’d made him wait in the car while you stopped at a 24-hour convenience store to get ice on the way, so now you get him tucked into bed with his foot elevated and a baggie of ice draped over his ankle. He’s clearly still peeved over how things went down with Peterson, but he also looks amused watching you play nursemaid for him.

“You know, I’ve been hurt a hell of a lot worse than this before,” he tells you. “I can take care of myself.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “Getting badly injured isn’t the brag you think it is,” you counter. “And… you shouldn’t have to take care of it alone. That’s what I’m here for. I know you think I’m just a rookie, but—for this job, we’re partners, right?”

He’s silent for a beat, but then he nods.

Jack is still awake and waiting for you when you return from the bathroom in your pajamas. As you climb into your side of the bed, he says, “I don’t think you’re just a rookie. You did a good job on this case.”

The room is dark but there’s moonlight streaming in through the window, casting a beam of light across his face on the pillow. He’s looking at you. You look back.

“Thank you,” you tell him finally.

“Thanks for the ice,” he returns. He lets out a sigh as his eyes drift shut, and as you follow suit you feel his hand reach out and intertwine with yours.

“G’night, Violet,” he murmurs.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

He laughs, and you grin in the dark, and you hold on tight.

[nwjws]

HEART OF (24K) GOLD - JAKE'S FUTURE PATIENTS

; SYNOPSIS - jake’s had it easy his whole life. with a famous actor for a dad and his mom being the head nurse at a private clinic in the city, everything he wants gets handed to him on a silver platter - at least, until he meets you at a MUN conference. now, he’s forced to learn that money doesn’t buy everything, but he’s willing to do what it takes to be yours.

02z

➼ JAKE ! what do you get when you pair an iconic actor from the 80s and the top nurse at an expensive private clinic? jake - a spoiled, but not brat-like boy. anything he wants, he gets. naturally, he complains when things don't go his way; try to overlook that trait, and you'll find that he's got a heart of gold.

➼ JAY ! probably the most humble of the three. his family restaurant has many branches across the continent, of course making him a good cook. he often has to keep a metaphorical leash on jake, the role of being his babysitter weighing on his shoulders. someone please help him.

➼ SUNGHOON ! his family has a long history, coming into power back in the 1800s. him and jay actually grew up together, since his family had a share-hold in the restaurant business. for all that he calls jake annoying, they spend a lot of time together, both giving jay gray hairs at only 18.

➼ HEESEUNG ! like jake, he's planning to pursue a course in the medical field, what with his dad being the ceo of the country's leading pharmacy company. that being said, he likes to leech off jake's homework and class notes, since they're more coherent than whatever the hell mr. kim is spouting out his mouth.

➼ SUNOO ! no one actually knows why he's rich, not that it even matters. he likes to joke that he's paid by all of their parents to be their friend, which really wouldn't be that surprising. jake likes to think that even if that was the case, they've formed a true friendship.

➼ JUNGWON ! his father made a fortune starting from the ground up, first working in the oil industry before diversifying. nevertheless, jungwon was raised to count his blessings, and is pretty good at managing his own money (except when it comes to kpop albums). because of this, jay likes to use him as a good example for jake and the others.

➼ NI-KI ! his parents own a successful dance studio, which drove his passion for the art. he's actually gone viral for his cover dances and has ended up on several magazine covers, but never tells anyone his socials. jake's even joined some of his covers, and likes to spoil the younger boy with gifts.

— Y/NTAKHOZUHANING ; MASTERLIST ; ONE

; AUTHOR’S CORNER! i was tempted to exploit sunoo’s profile of being rich for unknown reasons and make a big plot that runs throughout the whole trilogy with a plot twist and he’s actually like a villain or something but then i was like mmmm idk if anyone would be interested in that 😭😭

; TAGLIST - paper rings tl . @yizhoutv @jiawji @ririlovesrenjun @ashiitex @filmofhybe h24kg tl . @yenqa @lilriswife4life @jlheon @luvswonyoung @mrchweeee @haechansbbg @miujunhui @s00buwu @articxari @rikisly send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added .

[beardedmrbean]

NPR has suspended Uri Berliner, the senior editor who published a bombshell essay a week ago that claimed that the publicly funded outlet has “lost America’s trust” by approaching news stories with a left-wing bias.

NPR media writer David Folkenflik revealed on Tuesday that Berliner beginning on Friday was suspended for five days without pay. Folkenflik, who reviewed a copy of the letter from NPR brass, said the company told the editor he had failed to secure its approval for outside work for other news outlets — a requirement for NPR journalists.

NPR called the letter a “final warning,” saying Berliner would be fired if he violated NPR’s policy again.

Neither NPR nor Berliner immediately responded to requests for comment.

Berliner is a dues-paying member of NPR’s newsroom union, but Folkenflik reported that the editor is not appealing the punishment.

Berliner, a Peabody Award-winning journalist who has worked at NPR for 25 years, called out journalistic blind spots around major news events, including the origins of COVID-19, the war in Gaza and the Hunter Biden laptop, in an essay published Tuesday on Bari Weiss’ online news site the Free Press.

The fallout from the essay sparked outrage from many of his colleagues. Late Monday afternoon, NPR chief news executive Edith Chapin announced to the newsroom that executive editor Eva Rodriguez would lead monthly meetings to review coverage.

The fiasco also ignited a firestorm of criticism from prominent conservatives — with former President Donald Trump demanding NPR’s federal funding be yanked — and has led to internal tumult, the New York Times reported Friday.

NPR’s new chief executive Katherine Maher defended NPR’s journalism, calling Berliner’s article “profoundly disrespectful, hurtful, and demeaning,” The 42-year-old exec added that the essay amounted to “a criticism of our people on the basis of who we are.”

Folkenflik said Berliner took umbrage at that, saying she had “denigrated him.” Berliner said he supported diversifying NPR’s workforce to look more like the US population at large. Maher did not address that in a subsequent private exchange he shared with Folkenflik for the story.

The fiasco soon put the spotlight on Maher, whose own left-leaning bias came to light in a trove of woke, anti-Trump tweets she penned.

In January, when Maher was announced as NPR’s new leader, The Post revealed her penchant for parroting the progressive line on social media — including bluntly biased Twitter posts like “Donald Trump is a racist,” which she wrote in 2018.

That hyper-partisan message was scrubbed from the platform now known as X, but preserved on the site Archive.Today.

It’s unclear when Maher deleted it, or if its removal was tied to her new gig.

Other woke posts remain on Maher’s X account. In 2020, as the George Floyd riots raged, she attempted to justify the looting epidemic in Los Angeles as payback for the sins of slavery.

“I mean, sure, looting is counterproductive,” Maher wrote on May 31, 2020.

“But it’s hard to be mad about protests not prioritizing the private property of a system of oppression founded on treating people’s ancestors as private property.”

The next day, she lectured her 27,000 followers on “white silence.”

“White silence is complicity,” she scolded. “If you are white, today is the day to start a conversation in your community.”

The NPR job is Maher’s first position in journalism or media.

She was previously the CEO of the Wikimedia Foundation, the San Francisco-based nonprofit that hosts Wikipedia, after holding communications roles for the likes of HSBC, UNICEF and the World Bank.

Maher earned a bachelor’s degree in Middle Eastern and Islamic studies from New York University, according to her LinkedIn account, and grew up in Wilton, Conn. — a town that her mother, Ceci Maher, now represents as a Democratic state senator.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Grist:

When the Racetrac chain of convenience stores was deciding whether to install electric vehicle chargers, project lead Rushi Patel started with a blank Excel sheet and a lot of questions. Did the financials make sense? Where is the best to install them? What features should they have? The answers to questions like these could go a long way toward establishing an economic argument for building out America’s public EV charging infrastructure.

“We found our guests using new types of fuels, like electrons, and we wanted to be with them as part of that journey,” said Patel, the diversified energy manager at Metroplex Energy, a subsidiary of Racetrac. But he was clear that “it’s important to have an offer that does make money.” 

Patel slowly started to populate his spreadsheet in 2021, filling cells with EV adoption rates, utility prices, construction costs and a range of other metrics. He also took the company’s executives on a two-hour tour of charging spots in Atlanta, where Racetrac is based. One was tucked behind a shopping plaza, the other was deep within the bowels of a mall garage. It was clear to them that Racetrac could do better.

Two years later, Racetrac installed its first Level 3 fast charger in Oxford, Alabama — complete with the company’s logo and a canopy to shade people from the sun as they pump electrons. It has since opened seven more in three states. So far, he said, “[the business model] is holding up pretty well.”

Those eight chargers are among the 61,000 that blanket the country, a figure that has more than doubled since 2022. The increase comes as mounting evidence shows EV charging stations can be a boon to businesses, and not only by selling electricity. 

A recent study in the journal Nature Communications looked at chargers in California and found that, pre-pandemic, businesses saw an average annual boost of $1,500 when at least one of the devices stood nearby. Another paper examined Tesla Supercharger installations nationally and saw they brought a 4 percent increase in visitors to a business. The effect was particularly pronounced if the chargers were within 500 feet, and if it was the first one in the area. This boon is due to the fact that it can take 30 minutes or more to fully charge an EV, giving drivers plenty of time to shop.

“The places that tend to get the biggest bump, is the place that aligns with how long it takes you to charge your car,” said Gordon Burtch, an author of the paper and a professor of information systems at Boston University’s Questrom School of Business. “Sit-down restaurants aren’t benefiting as much as fast-food restaurants.”

[f0point5]

Okay I get get it, but now I also need a Charles/ the prophecy thesis if you don’t mind 😂

I feel like the Lecfosi are going to come for me if they find this but it’s not that deep okay? 🫣

✨Charles Leclerc x The Prophecy - A Thesis✨

Hand on the throttle

Duh

Thought I caught lightning in a bottle

Oh, but it's gone again

Every time he gets a pole position, drags that car where it shouldn’t be, even gets a win, he thinks it’s the start of something. And just as quickly as he rises, he falls. The strategy or the car comes apart. His success is only ever a flash of lightning. Burns bright, burns out fast.

And it was written

I got cursed like Eve got bitten

The Il Predestinato name. Written by a journalist when he was 14 years old. Once it seemed like that was his anointing but maybe it was a curse.

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope

A driver with less hope, less belief, would have left Ferrari a long time ago

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

He will turn down any offer, no matter how lucrative, how good the car, because he wants to do it with Ferrari or not at all. All that matters to him is the connection he has to that team, more than what could be good for him.

Let it once be me

He grew up watching eras of dominance, and now he’s driving through someone else’s, wishing it would be his turn

Cards on the table

Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh

It’s the honesty that comes before acceptance. Cards on the table is the moment you’ve done all you can, the playing is over, it’s time to find out if everything you’ve done has paid off. And he’s turning over his cards to find out he has the losing hand. They told his story like a myth, like a fairytale, like a fable, but maybe he wasn’t the hero in it after all. Maybe time will prove he was the fool

It was sinking in

Slow is the quicksand

Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand

Oh, still I dream of him

He’s beginning to understand, as the years go by, that the problems might be bigger than him. That it might not be in his control. That being the chosen one only matters if the people who chose you matter. They say Ferrari Red runs through his veins but what if the blood is poison? And still, he can’t stop hoping that it will turn around

And I sound like an infant

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen

The well is running dry, he’s pouring blood, sweat, and tears from a cup that will soon be empty.

A greater woman has faith

But even statues crumble if they're made to wait

This is controversial, but to me this refers to the shift in his professional focus, the diversifying of his interest. His ice cream, his sponsors, signing with a new agency. He’s going to make the most of what he has, rather than waste years hoping for what he wants. Maybe someone else would have stayed believing that his time would come, but he’s waited long enough.

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

The fear that he’s made his bed. He can’t leave, even if he wanted to there’s nowhere to go. There’s no sign of what he hoped for, but there’s no hope anywhere else.

I’m just a paperweight

After giving all he had, after being called the Son of Maranello, was he just holding down the fort until the next legend arrived? When all is said and done will he just be a footnote in the list of champions that drove for Ferrari?

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Deep down, he still wants it. The win would still mean more than the fame and the money he thinks he’ll end up settling for. As long as the passion is still there, so will be the desperation, like the other side of the coin.

[fridaynightmuses]

BASIC INFORMATION ⸻

full name : Emir Ibrahim Yilmaz

age : thirty two

gender, pronouns : cis man, he/his/him

orientation : heterosexual

birthday : november 8,

faceclaim : Can Yaman

time in town : his whole life

current residence : mansion in oak gardens

connections || pinterest

BACKSTORY ⸻

The Yilmaz have been in Blue Harbor for three generations, and own a good amount of property within the town as well as in the surrounding cities. The family's fortune only increases as the time passes. They have a diversified portfolio contributing to their wealth under Yilmaz Holding.

Emir is the third child out of four that his parents had. All the siblings were incredibly close for most of their lives, but things took a bit of a turn when he was 11 years old and his second oldest brother unalived himself.

The death impacted him so much so that as he got older he took to distracting himself with anything he could find. Recreational drugs, alcohol, and as many parties as a teenager could get into. He gained the label of black sheep of his family.

Something Emir had going for him, though, was his ability to press on through school effortlessly. He was incredibly smart, so despite all the trouble he found himself in, his grades at school were always up to par.

Over the years, Emir has gathered himself enough to pass for a functioning adult. He purchased the restaurant La Galleria while simultaneously working for his grandparents' company. But for the most part, he still enjoys a good amount of reckless fun, and partying.

HEADCANON

has a an eleven year old daughter named Emira. He currently has primary custody.

loves cooking and everything that has to do with the kitchen. he is very big on farm to table and having the best products.

his family owns land in Turkey and across Europe so he spend summers and holidays overseas a lot.

very active when it comes to community involvement.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

childhood friends

best friends

younger sister

older brother

extended family members

exes/flings/hookups

"the one that got away"

baby mama

...(will add more)

[thethirdromana]

Jane Austen heroes, ranked in descending order of how capable they would be of surviving in the modern world

7. Edmund Bertram Edmund has a genuine vocation in his desire to become a clergyman. This is a job that still exists and has probably changed less than most other jobs that people had in the early 19th century. He's supposed to live off £700 a year, which is £47,000 adjusted for inflation. The average Church of England vicar today earns £30,000, but then the average modern vicar has a washing machine and dishwasher and not a maid-of-all-work. I think Edmund would cope just fine in 2024.

6. Henry Tilney Mr Tilney is another clergyman, so all the same arguments apply. He's a step below Edmund on this list, though, as Henry is definitely a livelier, more fun-loving soul than Edmund (read: more expensive tastes) and doesn't seem to have quite such a vocation. But still, Henry is capable of holding down a real job, and I'm sure he would find one in 2024 as well.

5. Colonel Brandon Brandon (no first name ever supplied!) came from a successful military career, inherited a heavily indebted estate, and managed to turn it around. Minus the inheritance part, this feels like a plausible career history for a modern-day management consultant.

4. Edward Ferrars Another clergyman, Mr Ferrars ends up with the job when he had been expecting an inheritance and a life of luxury. Even then, the role is handed to him, and I fear he might find it harder to exist in a world where jobs are something you have to apply for, and not just be given.

3. George Knightley Mr Knightley is a landowner and gentleman farmer, which is also a job that still exists. He has little spare money, which is the usual experience of farmers in 2024 as well. I suspect he's going to need to wake up a lot earlier and work a lot harder in 2024 than in 1815. Maybe he could diversify and open some holiday cottages?

2. Frederick Wentworth We do still have naval captains today, but I think that's changed a bit more than the role of vicar has since the Napoleonic Wars. Maybe Captain Wentworth could be ruggedly handsome at one of those tall ships holiday companies? But unfortunately that's less of a route to wealth and glory than capturing French prizes in the Caribbean.

1. Fitzwilliam Darcy Mr Darcy, get a job? I'm trying to imagine him doing a 9 to 5, having performance reviews and chatting about the Traitors by the watercooler but it's just not happening. But even if he still owns Pemberley in the modern era, Darcy's income of £10,000 - circa £700,000 adjusted for inflation - is not going to be sufficient to maintain the estate, let alone give him the kind of lifestyle that he's used to. Perhaps he could swallow his pride one step further, flog the estate to the National Trust, live in one wing and help give guided tours to visitors.

[gl1tchy-4rt]

🍝⏳🍝Spaghetti Family Timeline🍝⏳🍝

Warning: Lots of Text

Finally made this!!

Here's the timeline and some lore, enjoy! ;)

Also @alextydaisuda123 and @creat0rstudi0 im not angy or calling you out, i'm just giving you a heads up because of what happened to with the last post, anyways...

Here we go!! (Btw: ~ = Around/Aprox.)

490~ A.D : The Pizzamancer is born out of pretty much thin air and magic, He travels The World, marveled by it, eventually he creates The Tower, he traps it in a time bubble and locks himself in it to starts working on Making his own world.

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500~ : The first pocket dimension is made: The Secret dimension, He now needs someone to take care of this dimension, A human he had met a while back, offers himself, The magic turns him into The Secret King, eventually they both created the first Life Form; a Cheese Ameba.

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650~ : To The Tower's inhabitants, Millenia went by, they grew, multiplied, diversified, and the First Sapient beings start to appear.

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700~ : The gates open and Pizzamancer, along with The TowerFolk, leave The Tower and they meet The Humans for the first time.

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720~ : Out of jelousy and greed, wanting his powers, Multiple Kings declare War on The Pizzamancer... and so the War begins.

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725~ : Multiple humans die, some end up revived by The Pizzamancer becoming "The Heroes of The Great War" one of those heroes was Vicento Spaghetti, the first member of the Spaguettis.

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850~ : The War is Over...

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855~ : Impaztia is created, using his powers, Pizzamancer separates it from the main land, Moving to the Northest Coast of what will one day be U.S.A.

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940~ : With his body falling apart, He creates His Magnum Opus: The PillarFolk (Guardians of The Tower) and The Pizzakin (Descendants of the Pizzamancer) as he begins to pass away, they all create The Pocket Watch to hold his Powers, eventually he peacefully passes away.

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20's : Chester "PizzaMan", a Human, enters The Tower and somehow becomes a Pizzakin, He kills the legitimate ruler, Steals the Pocket Watch and forcefully takes over The Tower.

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50's~ : PizzaBoy's Pizz-Pizza is Founded.

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60's : Totino Pizzaboy and Caesar Pizzaboy are created, made to be the perfect 3 year old boys to be the company's face.

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64 : Totino and Caesar run away and Totino gets adopted by Peppino (He is 21 at this point).

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65 : Pizzaboy's Pizz-Pizza goes Bankruptcy.

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80 : Pizzaman hires the Bosses and Fakey is created.

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84 : The events of "Pizza Tower" occur, Totino is brainwashed to fight Peppino and Pino wins, The Tower crumbles, The Towerfolk move to the Main Town and Pizzaman disappears with The Pocket Watch.

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86~ : The Main cast get married to their life partners, The kiddos are eventually born and Totino goes to college to study Marketing.

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87 : Totino and Caesar reunite after many years.

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88~ : The Towerfolk has finally fully settled into Impaztia, so has The Tower's Magic.

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93 : Pizzaman comes back and starts the events of "Spaghetti Family" (AKA: Pizza Tower 2) culminating on The Second Crumbling, Gerome and John recovering The Pocket Watch and PizzaMan's Death.

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OHHH BOY THAT'S ALL

So yeah! that's the Timeline, maybe i'll post my "Headcanon" Ages of the characters, idk maybe.

Or maybe expand on the Pizzamancer Lore!! Who knows?!

Anyways, To all of you Have fun, a nice Day/Night and...

Buh-Bye!!!

[dailyanarchistposts]

What Was Ours Is Now Theirs

The huge increase in the urban population of 19th Century Britain was accompanied by dysentery, typhoid and cholera.

The poor were blamed for cholera outbreaks, the result of their ‘ignorance’, lack of hygiene and general moral depravity. The prevailing orthodoxy was that laissez-faire capitalism and the management of water property for profit would provide solutions. It didn’t, and both municipal and state solutions – public ownership and management of water resources – were needed to solve the problem. Eventually it was recognised that easy access to a clean water supply was a basic human need, via the Public Health Acts. But with the re-emergence of neo-liberal and neo-conservative ideas about the role of the state and the importance of market solutions to social problems, all this is changing.

Britain is water rich, with adequate rainfall and only occasional water shortages. Until recently, water was generally seen as a common good and water planners saw any form of supply restriction, even a hosepipe ban, as an admission of failure. Regional water authorities pooled access to water resources and made long term plans for a London ring main, recharging aquifers from winter river water. People and organisations cooperated to manage water resources relatively effectively and to save water when it was needed, such as during the drought of 1975/76. However, water was privatised by the Tories in 1989, despite defeat in The House of Lords and the threat of prosecution by the EU on water quality standards, attacks by environmental groups over standards and questions about the fate of water authorities’ huge land holdings. As a result, the average household experienced an increase in water costs of 67% between 1989 and 1995. Company profits rose by an average of 20% to 1993 and are still high. The highest charging area of Britain, South West Water, took 4.9% of income from a household of 2 adults and 2 children, 7.6% from a lone parent and child and 9.1% from single pensioners in 1994. The profits of the water supply companies are being subsidised by the poorest people in Britain, those least able to pay. Thousands of households now regularly have their water supply cut off. In the Sandwell Health Authority area (in the West Midlands), over 1,400 households were cut off in 1991/2 and cases of hepatitis and dysentery rose tenfold. In 1994 2m households fell into water arrears, with 12,500 disconnected. Half of the water companies in England and Wales have selectively introduced or are testing pre-payment meters. The increased use of metering, most often in poorer households, has either increased water bills or resulted in forced cuts in water use by those who need it most. Non-payers are automatically cut off and the supply is not restored until the debt is paid. 10,000 meters have been installed in Birmingham since 1992; there have been over 2,000 disconnections. The water companies have responded to increasing criticism of their disconnection policies by devoting a tiny proportion of their profits to charitable trusts that help the poorest customers. This is pure PR and gives the corporations tax advantages. In the 1980s and in 1994–96, community campaigns defeated attempts to introduce water taxes in Dublin; see Issue 3 of ‘Red and Black Revolution’ for an excellent analysis.

Encouraged by a surge of prosperity in the 1960s, the Spanish have ignored the fact that they live in a semi-arid country prone to periodic, lengthy droughts. Golf courses have been built for tourists, swimming pools for themselves and there are many lawns and gardens requiring daily watering. Farmers have diversified from their traditional drought resistant produce such as figs and olives into water-hungry crops like rice and strawberries. The result is that Spain is now the world’s 4th highest per capita consumer of water after the US, Canada and Russia. Now it has to build huge dams and pay the cost to divert rivers to over-developed areas, amid growing environmental and community opposition. Other factors (which apply elsewhere) are laws giving producers the right to squander resources so long as there is a consumer demand to be satisfied; and the role of the centralised State (largely controlled by business influences), with its control of revenue, command of resources, expertise and power to enforce policy on citizens, in arbitrating the management of resources.