#I’m approaching 30 at a rapid speed

[shiftedvoid]

Be the oracle of my death

[weightlosesuccess]

How to Lose 2 kg in 14 Days with Dancing

How to Lose 2 kg in 14 Days with Dancing: A Realistic and Detailed Guide

Are you ready for an enjoyable and achievable journey to shed 2 kilograms in just 14 days through dancing? Dancing is not only a fantastic way to burn calories but also a fun and creative exercise. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore a realistic and effective approach to losing 2 kg in 14 days through dancing. I'm Emily Turner, your guide at Weight Loss Success, and I'm here to provide you with a professional and detailed plan to help you achieve your goal.

Set a Clear Goal: Your 14-Day Challenge

To kick start your 14-day challenge to lose 2 kg, it's crucial to set a clear and achievable goal. Rapid weight loss is based on creating a calorie deficit. Plan to dance for at least 30-60 minutes each day to burn calories and accelerate your journey. Exercise Plan: - Days 1-3: Begin with 30 minutes of dancing, focusing on building your stamina and learning basic dance steps. - Days 4-7: Increase the duration to 45 minutes, incorporating more complex dance moves. - Days 8-14: Maintain a 60-minute dancing routine. Experiment with different dance styles for variety.

Explore Various Dance Styles: Keep It Exciting

To make the most of your dancing experience, explore various dance styles. This will engage different muscle groups and make your journey enjoyable. Exercise Plan: - Try different dance styles like hip-hop, salsa, ballet, or Zumba. - Vary the intensity and speed of your dance routines.

Pay Attention to Your Diet

While dancing is a powerful tool for weight loss, it's essential to complement it with a healthy diet. Concentrate on consuming low-calorie, nutritious foods to support your weight loss. Diet Plan: - Breakfast: Start your day with a balanced breakfast, including whole grains, a source of protein, and fruits. - Lunch: Opt for a salad with lean protein, such as grilled chicken or tofu. - Snacks: Choose healthy options like yogurt, fruit, or a handful of nuts. - Dinner: Select a well-balanced dinner with lean protein, whole grains, and plenty of vegetables.

Stay Hydrated

Staying hydrated is vital for your weight loss journey, especially when you're dancing. Drinking enough water helps with recovery, aids in digestion, and maintains your energy levels. Diet Plan: - Aim to drink at least 8 glasses of water throughout the day.

Prioritize Quality Sleep

Quality sleep plays a significant role in your weight loss journey. Aim for 7-8 hours of restful sleep each night to support recovery and hormonal balance. Diet Plan: - Create a consistent sleep schedule and establish a relaxing bedtime routine.

Consistency is Key

Consistency is the cornerstone of any successful weight loss plan. Staying committed to your exercise and dietary routine for all 14 days is essential for reaching your goal. Personal Recommendation: - Keep a journal to track your progress and celebrate your achievements. - Don't skip any dancing sessions.

Monitor Your Progress and Beyond

Keeping a record of your dances, meals, and weight is a powerful way to stay on track. After these 14 days, consider transitioning into a more balanced and sustainable weight loss plan. Exercise Plan: - Continue dancing regularly, exploring different dance styles and routines. - Incorporate other forms of exercise for a well-rounded fitness routine. Diet Plan: - Maintain a healthy, balanced diet with occasional treats to keep your journey enjoyable. Personal Recommendations: - Consult with a healthcare professional before embarking on any weight loss program. - Remember to celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they may be.

Calorie Deficit Example:

Let's understand how the calorie deficit works in practice. To lose 2 kg of body weight, you need to create a calorie deficit of approximately 15,400 calories (since 1 kg of body weight is roughly equivalent to 7,700 calories). - Dancing can burn a significant number of calories, depending on the intensity and duration. - By following a well-balanced diet, you can aim for a calorie intake of around 1,200-1,500 calories per day (16,800-21,000 calories over 14 days). By creating this calorie deficit (calories burned through dancing - calories consumed), you can expect to lose approximately 2 kg in 14 days.

Conclusion

In conclusion, losing 2 kg in 14 days with dancing is an enjoyable and achievable goal when you follow a well-structured plan. Exploring different dance styles, maintaining a balanced diet, staying hydrated, getting quality sleep, and remaining consistent are the key elements to your success. As you embark on this exciting journey, keep in mind that dancing is not just a way to lose weight but also a creative and fun expression of yourself. It connects you with your body and brings you closer to a healthier, happier you. Your friend and guide at Weight Loss Success, Emily Turner, believes in your potential and is here to support you on your incredible journey. Warmest vibes, Emily Turner Your Friend and Guide at Weight Loss Success Read the full article

[boowanie]

18:30 — Feeling overwhelmed, you found yourself taking a stroll at the park near your university campus. It had been a tough week on your end with the amount of assignments that were due on top of the midterms you had to take throughout the entire week. You were exhausted to say the least. It didn’t help that your mind was still racing with thoughts that you were trying so hard to push away. No matter how much you tried, your racing thoughts wouldn’t halt.

You continued to walk through the park, stomping on some fallen leaves, a sign that autumn has approached. The park was nearing empty when you arrived at your usual bench. However, you were thankful for the emptiness and the quiet environment. You needed a place to be at peace, and here you were.

The leaves blew gently along the ground, the birds flew past you at different speeds but the setting sun was what made your thoughts come to a stop. The golden rays of the sun that shone just before it disappeared beyond the horizon slowly touched your skin. You closed your eyes, basking in the temporary warmth that danced along your skin.

A couple of minutes pass by, and the sun was barely visible, a tiny glimpse of darkness slowly replacing the light. You took that as your cue to leave, however, a faint shutter caught your attention. The hairs on your arm stood up. Cautiously turning your head to the side, you catch sight of your one and only, boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo.

“Jesus Christ, ‘Woo, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you yelled, placing your hands on your chest to feel the rapid beating of your heart.

“Baby-” he chuckled, tilting his head up as he scrunched his nose, a habit you loved seeing him do whenever he was laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, finally walking up to where you were standing.

“Hao mentioned that you went on a walk to the park and I know that you only take walks at this park whenever you’re stressed so I knew i’d find you here. But when I saw you sitting with your eyes closed, I knew I couldn’t disturb you,” he pecked your forehead once he was done talking, a gesture you adored the most that he did whenever he tended to ramble on.

“You could’ve put your phone on silent before you took a picture, you dumbass,” you murmured, placing the side of your head against his chest. You both stood there, watching the last ray of light finally disappear out of sight. You realised, at that very moment, that although the heat from the sun was gone, you had your very own source of warmth standing beside you. Despite the many struggles you went through this week, he offered the warmth that made you forget the little worries in life.

“How does you, me and dinner at our place sound?” he whispered gently.

“Perfect. Sounds perfect to me.”

—

eri’s note 💌: hello my beans, i hope you’re all taking care of yourselves a little extra this week ✨

[aka-irish]

Apex Legends: The Top Predator Part 5. Predators to Prey

A blue portal opens up in the center of King’s Canyon. *Thwapew* and in a flash of blue light the Legends all appear lined up, hands on their guns as they await this new foe. The electronic banners in the canyon flicker as the Doctor Traxler’s face appears once more. “Bravo, Legends. I’m glad you made the right choice. I wouldn’t have wanted to set those bombs off, anyway, but I needed an insurance policy. With that said, I wanted to test our new toy. Please...accept my boy as you have any other legend. He does have a bit of a temper” The doctor snidely remarks, a huge grin on his face. The months of laboring research and creation finally coming to fruition for him. “We will stop you” yells Wraith, a finger pointing up at the monitor. “Oh, I doubt that” replies the doctor. “And even if you do, you won’t stop us, for as the wheels turn, we do our part. Now. “The doctor turns to off screen. “Release Darwin!” commands Traxler. “Sir!” says a soldier before hitting a button. A whirring from a door can be heard and the glass tank is released through a hatch in the floor as it launches down from a ship. The Legends look up and in a few moments a large metallic container can be seen descending from the sky. As it approaches the ground below rockets kick in to slow the fall. Upon landing it begins smoking as the air pressure begins releasing, and upon opening, the glass tank can be seen with Darwin in it. The tank drains and opens and the large body falls out onto his knees inside the metal hatch. “Hrr..hrrrr.hrrrr” a mix of deep breathing and seething can be heard coming him, as his powerful lungs expand and inhale for the first time on their own. The muscles twitch and flex as he begins to stand up, his massive frame almost too overshadowing the tank behind, making one wonder how he could have fit inside it. He stands up and eyes the legends. Steel grey eyes locked on the band of warriors as his teeth grit. “HrrRRWAAHHHHHH” roars the abomination of man. “Play nice, Legends.HAAHHA” the doctor laughs before his signal cuts out and the monitors display the fight. Darwin steps forth. 

“Hmph” Crypto quickly breathes as he throws out Hack “I’ll keep Hack open to provide any data scans in case things go south.” states the Korean hacker. “Good” replies Bangalore. “Oh my God, enough talking. Let’s bake this freak. RAPIDO!” bursts out Octane as he injects himself with a stim and charges the creature solo. “SILVA, NO!’ cries out Lifeline as the daredevil runs full speed at Darwin. “Catch me if you can, pendejo! Octane aims his mastiff shotgun at the beast of a man and he begins to unload a buckshot. The spray from the powerful gun land directly at the chest of the 6′6 bald, monster. *Tink* a small shield absorbs most of the shots. “Shielded up, eh? No matter. I’ll whittle you down, you can’t catch me” says Oct as he stims up again, the brash stuntman remarks happily, loving the thrill of the challenge. Darwin lashes a monstrous arm out, swinging at the speedster but he misses. “Oooo..gonna have to do better than that. yehehehahahah!” he laughs. Darwin swings again, misses, but becomes a bit closer. Octane fires another shot, the bullets once again absorbed by the energy shield. Darwin leaps at him and Octane slides under him. “Those muscles make ya slow, haha!” He jumps up and throws a kick at his face. The robotic legs kick off Darwin’s face, not even staggering him. “GRAHHHHHH!” he roars in annoyance as he lashes out once more. BA-THOOM BATHOOM BATHOOM, one of Darwin’s massive hearts begins to thunder and accelerate...BATHOOMBATHOOMBATHOOM, the second heart begins to beat faster and harder. As the two other hearts begin to catch up and speed up, Darwin begins moving even faster. He throws a wild punch as it grazes Octane’s mask. “The hell?” he wonders, the sudden surge in speed surprising him as a second fist connects to his stomach. “GAH!” he cries out in pain, never having been hit with such force in his life. He gets sent flying back as he coughs up blood in his mask. “HKHKHKHK!” he can’t breathe in the mask as he chokes on the blood. Darwin accelerates towards him, the added hearts pumping so fast in a way that his body is able utilize more oxygen to speed up his muscles to match even Octane. A blue portal opens up instantly between Octane and Darwin as a blue energy shield pops out to absorb the force. “Tch..you’re a strong one, huh” Gibraltr pops out of Wraith’s portal with his shield up. Wraith, having led the portal, grabs Octane and jumps back through, leaving the human fortress to fight the behemoth of Pinnacle. Gibraltr smiles as he his shield up and Maori club in his free hand. The shield absorbing the angry blows of Darwin and he counters with a massive club strike the face in an opening. The energy shield again absorbing the blow but the mighty Makoa, even being able to chop trees in a single stroke, merely knocks the monster’s head back slightly. BATHOOMBATHOOMBATHOOM, the powerful connection of hearts begin to surge again as Darwin throws his blows faster, as he starts to overwhelm Gibby. “Damn..I’ve never faced anyone like you before” Gibby says with a smile on his face as his wild side starts to show. “GRAAHHHH!” Darwin screams. The massive fists colliding with the shield as it shatters. Makoa reaches behind and pulls out his favored Eva-8 automatic shotgun, he points it point blank at Darwin’s stomach and begins pumping in all 8 rounds. Each explosive shot manages to push Darwin back for some space, but the shield reduces the damage once again.

 Meanwhile, Wraith having appeared back with the group puts Octane down by Lifeline. “He’s hurt bad. Whatever that thing is can throw a punch” points out the Voidwalker. “I got him. Go help, Makoa” says Lifeline as she hooks DOC to him to help heal him. Wraith nods before heading back to the portal and jumps in. She ports back out just as Gibraltr gained some space with his EVA. “I don’t know what kinda shield this thing has, but my gun ain’t cutting it Wraith” Gibby remarks as he loads a new drum into his shotgun. Wraith just nods as she finally confronts the nightmare from the base. She pulls out her alternator and leaps in, flipping over the charging monster, firing rapid shots as the bullets just burn through in the shield, Gibby combining with her his Eva. Darwin staggers around, clearly feeling some pain but showing little to no effect of slowing down. “AYE! GET BACK, MATES! FIRIN’ ME KNUCKLECLUSTER!” yells Fuse as he rushes in, firing his signature grenades. “HRUUUUUUUUU!!” Darwin yells in pain at the explosions. “Let’s see how you deal with Salvo’s finest!” smiles the Bonecage Brawler. His 30-30 repeater locked right onto Darwin. The charged shots clinking against the energy armor. “Bloody hell, what’s this?” he questions as Gibby and Wraith both fire. “We don’t know. It’s not an Evo shield I’ve ever seen. “Well..just keep firin then” Fuse’s face turns serious from the fun loving fighting expression that he is known for. The Legends seemingly having the monster on the ropes for the moment. “Why can’t we go in? Lemme at the brute!” blurts out Rampart. “Because, we don’t know what he can do and look what happened when one of us charged in. Silva is out of commission in almost one hit. Guns don’t seem to be working all too well either. As Wraith, Gibby and Fuse continue their advancement, Darwin swings wildly once again. BATHOOMBATHOOMBATHOOMBATHOOM, his hearts accelerating even faster, he charges forward and lands a massive fist to the face of Gibraltr between reloads, ignoring the shots from the other two. “AGH!” Gibby screams out in pain as he flies back, blood spraying immediately from his nose. Lands on the ground with a hard thud. ‘AGHRAARUUUU!’ roars Darwin again, as he swings around and turns his attention to Wraith and Fuse. Gibby staggers himself, the normally proud and happy disposition on his face is turned to, for the first time in a long time, doubt. “Damn” he whispers under his breath and he charges again. *click click click* Wraith’s gun clicks. “Oh no..I;m out” she thinks to herself. She pulls her kunai. “I’m going to phase guys!” she teleports as she ports around and jumps up to climb his distracted shoulders as she goes for a stab to his neck with her kunai. The blade bouncing off the shield...”oh no..” she stutters as Darwin reaches up and powerbombs her into the ground so hard it almost cracks. “Ghuhh!” Wraith bounces against stone and sand as the air immediately leaves her lungs, her body wracked with pain. 

Aboard the Pinnacle ship, Traxler looks on in intent amazement at his creation. The metallic doors open as Colonel Braxton makes his presence known. “You’ve done outstanding work, Doctor” remarks Braxton, his hands held behind as back as he watches the carnage of Pinnacle’s creation. “It really is incredible, isn’t it, Colonel?” questions the sociopath. “We have really done it, we have created the perfect soldier. We have played God here and are winning” he follows up, putting a hand on the Colonel’s shoulder. “And none of it would be possible without your leadership, sir. I hope we may continue to do business with each other.” “And I as well”, replies Braxton as both return to their gaze to the battle below. “Wraith is down! Horizon, retrieve her as quick as possible. Gibs! How is it hanging in there?” questions Bangalore amidst the chaos and commands. Gibraltr throws his dome shield over Wraith as he knocks the even bigger man back out of it. “Not good, Anita. This thing is tough and I don’t know how much more we can hold off” he admits through gritted teeth. A gravity disk is thrown by Wraith and sucks her up to her the Scottish scientist that is Horizon. “No dyin today, deary. We can take a wee nap later” she caringly mutters to the downed Wraith. “And up” Horizon launches another disk and floats back up to the group, landing softly and laying her down by Octane. “Horizon...Wattson...Valkyrie...Caustic, we need to hit him with everything we have, but it’s going to take and timing and work. Ajay, you continue providing care to Oct and Wraith. Loba, Mirage, I need you to go help Gibraltr and get Fuse back up here, we need his Motherlode. We only have one shot at this, guys” Bangalore sternly states before turning to look at Rampart. “P, can you set Sheila up and provide some suppressive fire?”she asks the modded machine gunner. “Can do, girl” Rampart whips around her massive minigun before slapping it a couple times. “Alright, girl, we got a big, mutant skull to crack.” she jollily chortles before running off to set up. “Mirage to the rescue. Dupes deployed” yells Mirage as he charges after the creature, his dupes appearing and running at it. Loba tosses her ring and lands in behind the creature as it continues to throw massive fists with Gibraltr. “Take this you sonofabitch” Loba roars through her teeth as she pulls out the R-99 and begins unloading the rapid clip at Darwin. “GAAAHGRRUUUUHHH” it yells as it now has dupes, Gibraltr, Mirage and Loba fighting. Loba flips between fists and kicks as dupes disappear from being hit while Mirage sets back, unloading his signature Wingman. The high caliber rounds knocking back the beast as it staggers but still seems unaffected due to the modded energy shield. “Bullets don’t see to be working, guys” Mirage remarks as he sends another dupe, Loba continuing to leap and unload clip after clip  with Gibby jumping in with his shotgun. “Fuse, return back” commands Bangalore over the earpiece. “Right” he returns and starts running back, catching the gaze of Darwin. “RAAGHH” he roars as he charges after him. As he does, a hailstorm of bullets comes from atop a cliff as Rampart rains down SHEILA at him. “Take this ya bloody bastard HAHAHA” she laughs manically in delight at the fight. As the barrage of high-caliber bullets hit him, the shield seems to almost crack. 

“Good, P. Keep it going” compliments “Rest of you, GO!” screams the former IMC soldier as the remaining legends rush down the hill. “Gibs, Mirage, and Loba. Get back!” they hear Bangalore bark. Mirage dupes, and Loba jump drives away. Bangalore launches a smokebomb at Darwin, it explodes confusing the almost frozen monster with Rampart shooting him. Rampart stops as Valkyrie flies by, dropping her missiles to stun him for a few moments. “Deploying fences” excitedly states Wattson as she slides down, putting up a square of super charged fences around the monster. “RAGHHHH” Darwin can be heard screaming inside the smoke cloud, lashing out but cringing back in pain due to the electric posts of the genius Ms. Paquette. “Singularity deployed” yells Horizon as she throws NEWT at him. The device opening and unleashing the gravitational pull, keeping Darwin centered. “Droppin the motherlode” as it’s Fuse’s turn to pull out his cannon as he launches the flaming ring over Darwin, the shield absorbing more and more damage, but despite that, Darwin can feel the heat and charge, yelling out in pain. “Gas grenade” calmly states Caustic as he throws his gas grenade. It explodes on contact, releasing the venomous mist inside. The powerful lungs of Darwin inhale the spray and begins choking, his lungs and extra hearts working overtime to metabolize and compensate for the poison. “Bangalore up top pops up a can of her rolling thunder before launching it. “Everyone, get in Gibby’s shield. We end this now” she yells. Gibraltr throws up his dome shield as the signal flare calling for the missiles to drop and line the ground around Darwin. “RUUUUUUAAAAHH!” he screams in the searing agony of the combined ultimates of the Legends. The missiles detonate leaving Darwin to get caught in the explosions, his energy shield reaching maximum capacity and finally cracking, as dust and sand, and gunpowder fills the air, engulfing him. Gibby’s shield finally fading. “Did we win?” asks Mirage, the other legends staring sternly at the dust cloud. 

“Sir, Darwin’s shield has been cracked!” a soldier at a monitor reports out. “And how is Darwin?” calmly asks the doctor. “He appears to have sustained minimal damage, but damage nonetheless” he reads back. “To be expected” states the doctor. “These are the legends after all, but I think it’s time we end this. Activate Darwin’s Cardiac Connection ultimate and drop the Devotions kit” he orders. The soldier nods as he pulls open a switch and hits the read button over Darwin’s screen. Another soldier pulls a lever as a container is launched from the drop ship, plummeting towards the arena. BATHOOM...BATHOOM...BATHOOM, Darwin’s three extra hearts begin beating in different rhythms. *Thoom-thoomp..thoom-thoomp...thoom.thoomp..THOOMthumpthump...thoomthom* Loba winces immediately yelling out in pain as she drops to her knees, hands clutching at her breast. Darwin’s 2nd heart *thoomp-thmp--thoomp-thmp..thmmpp..thmppthmp..BUMP* Mirage drops to his knees, clutching his chest, seething in agony. *BMPBMPBMP..bmp-bmpbummppthump* Rampart falls from SHEILA, hand almost ripping at her shirt. Darwin’s hearts beat rapidly and flail while the hearts of the three legends match them. “What’s going on!?” yells a confused Bangalore. Valkyrie puts an ear down on the convulsing Loba’s breast “THOMMP...thoompthumpthump...thmph......thmph” it’s like shes having a heart attack!” she cries out. “What the hell!? Is this thing still alive or did they cheat us again!?” Bangalore looks as the dust finally settles, and there is Darwin still standing, clutching an arm, cuts across his face, and body, blood dripping down an arm.” RAAAAAHHGHH” he roars, angrier than ever. The previous drop package from Pinnacle lands down in front of him. It opens and out pop two, fully kitted devotions. “Heheh..eheh” breathes out Darwin..almost as if he’s laughing. He reaches in and grabs the guns and aims them at the still standing Legends. Darwin pulls the trigger as the devotions fire their super heavy and powerful spray of energy rounds. The bullets shredding the shields of the Legends and knocking them. “GAH! aGH!” they can all be heard screaming except for one. The whole team, tired and exhausted from their almost fruitless efforts. Lifeline and Crypto, having been support run down, charging the monster as he shoots them down almost as quickly as they came to attack. Bangalore stands atop from her position...eyes wide and stunned at the events that transpired. The heroes...the Legends..the comrades and fighting family before her, all taken out by one person..one thing. She walks down the hill towards Darwin, the devotions hanging at his sides still smoldering before dropping them. She stands toe to toe with him, staring up at his cold, souless yet vicious, steel eyes. “Bastard” she mutters before aiming her G7 Scout at his face, he swats an arm at her, the massive fist connecting with the side of her head. She gets sent several feet away from the impact. 

The drop ship lands and a hatch opens before extending a walkway. Doctor Traxler and a few soldiers, armed with guns up, follow him out as they head towards Darwin, a sick smile spread across his face as he looks at the fallen bodies of the Legends that lay at his feet. “I’d say our experiment was a success, Colonel” cockily states the Doctor. “Good. Bring him” responds the Colonel. “Very well” says Traxler as he directs his attention to the soldiers. “Begin the retrieval process” he barks out as the soldiers head towards Darwin, wrangling him towards the ship. Traxler looks down at the nearly unconscious Bangalore. Anita looks up, and through foggy eyes, she sees that smile before he heads back to the ship. All she can hear, aside from the ringing in her ears, the ship engines firing up and the slow thudding of her own heart beating as she finally slips into unconsciousness. 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 42 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hello darlings! The saga continues… Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Pearl’s eye started to wander and Violet set out on a quest to truly prove herself.

This Chapter: Aiden struggles with envy, Adore learns something extremely disturbing about her girlfriend, and Violet makes a friend in the park.

***

“Oof!” Katya held the sweater she was knitting in front of her face, blocking the view of the TV. “Oh god, that scene gets me every time.”

“I can see why this is one of your favorites.” Violet smiled, her pencil paused on her sketchpad as she watched Nancy’s powertrip, The Craft a surprisingly good film.

They were sitting on the couch in Trixie, Katya and Pearl’s apartment, Katya sending Violet a text if she wanted to come down and watch a movie.

Violet had learned early on that Katya despised people who were on their phones while watching movies, but that crafts were allowed, which was probably also why Katya had asked her specifically since Max was out of town. Pearl, Kim and Shangela were all on the no movies list, while Trixie was apparently walking on ‘thin fucking ice’ as Katya herself had said.

“I was a witch once.” Katya smiled, going back to the pink sweater with purple clouds she was knitting, the size of it making it clear that it was for Trixie. “Who doesn’t like a side of blood magic?”

Violet smiled, shaking her head as she turned her attention halfway back to her sketch, her hand doodling flowers along the lapel of the jacket she was working on.

***

“Kiara?”

Aiden was having a perfectly good day until she came over.

It was a little after lunch, the cafeteria serving the chicken he liked. He’d been working on some sketches, fairly satisfied with his progress so far, the days going by so fast.

He was on track to have almost 10 different looks finished by the end of the day when they had to turn them in, and so he was certain that he’d be getting into the Spring collection.

He had been perfecting a sleeve, when his pleasant thoughts had been rudely interrupted by Violet’s voice, as she approached their station to talk to Kiara.

“Hi,” Violet was holding a black portfolio in her hands, her pink nails tapping on the black vinyl. She was wearing a pair of black high waisted pants, a belt cinching in her waist and a long sleeved silk top. “I was wondering if I could see what you were working on for the Spring prêt-à-porter collection?”

“Sure? Kiara looked surprised, but she still grabbed her own stack of sketches, Kiara one of the few designers that still preferred to do everything by hand. “Why?

“I heard that you’re doing a jacket,” Violet put her portfolio down, “and I’m thinking of doing a jacket, so I just want to make sure we’re not submitting the same thing.”

Of course Violet was thinking of submitting a jacket.

“Scared of the competition Chachki?” Aiden was about to reach for his own sketch, his centerpiece for his spring submissions a jacket as well.

“No?” Violet looked at Aiden, her big brown eyes unblinking. “Why would I be?”

Aiden was about to open his mouth to respond when he realized that there was no point, his hand falling down.

That girl was just so incredibly condescending, and he hated her for it.

“Here we go.” Kiara said, gesturing to her sketches, tapping on the 3 versions of the jacket that she was going to submit.

“Hmm.” Violet peered at them, nodding. “Good. We’re not doing the same at all.”

“I showed you mine. Are you gonna show me yours?” Kiara asked, and Violet giggled, pulling out her own sketches.

“Deal,” she said, flipping open the portfolio.

As curious as he was, Aiden decided not to look, burying his head in his own work, now more determined than ever to get that jacket spot.

***

“Babyyy, pay attention to meeee,” Adore whined, tugging on Pearl’s top, attempting to nuzzle into her neck as they were on the bed. Pearl had invited her over for dinner, but the second they’d finished Katya’s famous twice-baked potatoes and garlic chicken (and several bottles of wine), she’d pulled out her laptop and begun working on content for Galactica’s new website.

Adore had never seen Pearl work after hours before. She was slightly shocked to see her do any real work, to be honest, imagining her position at Galactica to be purely schmoozing with brand reps and taking high-profile selfies at fancy events.

“Sorry, I have to finish this shit tonight.” Pearl finished the last of her wine and pressed a quick kiss to Adore’s forehead before going back to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard, Pearl actually typing at a surprisingly impressive speed.

“But…” Adore knew she was being a brat, but really, what was Pearl’s rush to finish something this late anyway? Would anyone even be ready to receive it? “Please-”

“Dore,” Pearl sighed, actually looking down at her. “I need to turn it into the site designers before midnight tonight. I thought I’d have time at work, but there was an influencer emergency and you know how those bitches get.”

Adore didn’t, in fact, know how influencers got, the realization that she knew absolutely nothing about Pearl’s work slowly creeping over her.

“I tried asking for extra time, but Fame said no.” Pearl pressed space, her short nails clacking against the black keys of her Macbook. “And unfortunately, eating her pussy right now for a favor is out of the question.” Pearl huffed. “Believe me. I tried.”

“What?” Adore’s hand froze on Pearl’s waist. “You tried what?”

“Eating her pussy?”

Adore sat up, rocking the bed. “Pearl!”

“What? You know that me and Fame used to hook up. We’ve done it for years.” Pearl turned to her with a curious expression. “They didn’t tell you?” Pearl raised a brow. “Huh.” She bit her lip, going back to her laptop. “I thought for sure they would when they were all freaked out about us getting together.”

“They?” Adore asked, trying to keep her voice from getting shrill.  “Who is they?”

“Fame mostly” Pearl shrugged, “but I thought Bianca would have had something to say.”

“Wait, so...sorry.” Adore squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear her mind before asking, “You and Fame used to hook up, and Bianca knew about it?”

“I assumed? I don’t know for sure, but why else would your sister hate me?” Pearl paused typing, a cheshire grin on her face. “I’m delightful.”

Adore could feel her heart pounding in her throat.

“And you… You were gonna...you were gonna cheat on me with her?”

“Cheat? Wha - No!” Pearl closed her laptop, putting it to the side before she turned to Adore, shaking her head. “I’m not cheating.”

“It sure as shit sounds like it.”

“We never talked about being exclusive? So I just figured…” Pearl shrugged, and Adore wanted to hit her. “You’re a really cool girl, and I thought you didn’t care about stuff like that.”

“Well…” Adore’s mind raced. She’d been so ready to get angry, throw an absolute fit, but Pearl calling her cool was having the effect of pouring aloe onto inflamed skin. “I mean...I guess that’s true, we never talked about it.”

“It’s 2014. Everyone who’s not an absolute square is open these days,” Pearl continued.

“Is that… I mean, so…” Adore swallowed hard. “So you want an open relationship?”

“I’m not running around town fucking everyone I meet, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just think like… We know how we feel about each other? So why worry about oppressive hetero-normative rules?” Pearl punctuated her question with a charming smile, and Adore could feel herself melting.

“Yeah, that...makes sense.”

“See, this is why you’re the fucking best.” Pearl closed her laptop and kissed Adore gently, cradling her head, and every last ounce of anger dissipated into thin air.

Well...anger at Pearl, anyway. She’d deal with Miss Goddamn Fame and her traitorous sister tomorrow.

“Don’t you need to work?” Adore asked, pressing into Pearl’s embrace.

“I’ll go in early tomorrow,” Pearl said, moving her lips to Adore’s neck.

Adore sighed happily, lavishing the attention, sure that being with Pearl was worth it.

***

Courtney had gotten to the office before 6 am to prepare for the Friday design meeting--organizing the nearly 400 sketches into categories, making scans and copies and mounting the originals on card stock, each one numbered for easy reference. In the end, she had a tabbed binder for each of the attendees with high-quality copies, just barely finishing by the time Miss Fame strolled in at 9:30.

They’d been at it for awhile now, and what had begun as an orderly review with everyone on the same page had devolved into chaos, tension high as people defended their opinions. She stood in the corner of the conference room, feet already aching in her 4-inch heels, trying to follow the rapid-fire conversation, Raja and Trixie bickering about pant length and Pearl tearing out the pages she didn’t like, tossing them to the floor.

“This skirt on 42 is nice, but it looks complicated. How much would it cost to manufacture it?” Pearl passed a sketch to Bendela, who was the head of the tailoring department.

Bendela examined it closely, before proclaiming, “At least $700.”

Pearl pulled it out of her hands, dropping it on the floor with the other rejects. “Bye!”

“Well, hey now…” Alyssa flipped to the same sketch in her own binder. “Maybe it wouldn’t work for the stores, but it’s still good. Could we save it for a potential runway look?”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Sure, but that’s not what we’re doing today.”

“Why don’t we put it aside and give Jovan some notes for runway?” Trixie suggested.

“That’s literally what I just said,” Alyssa snapped.

“I know, I’m agreeing with you!” Trixie exclaimed, handing her a fresh Red Bull. “Here, have some more gogo juice.”

“I really like this top on 27, but it would have to be a bit shorter to work with the other separates,” Alaska drawled, and Raja nodded, jotting down a note on the corresponding page of her binder.

“Yes, it’s pretty. What do you think, Fame?” asked Raja.

“It would be pretty, if it wasn’t in this disgusting color,” Fame said.

“Non-disgusting color coming right up!” Trixie said cheerfully, scribbling a note on the page.

“Trixie, I do not appreciate your tone.”

“Sorry Miss. You want to see something great? Check out Maxwell’s suit options. Starting on 104. He really outdid himself this year.” Trixie let out a loud chef’s kiss.

“Awww, thanks coach!” Maxwell said.

Courtney shifted, stretching a little, and noticed that Miss Fame had finished her coffee. Relieved for an excuse to move, she slipped from the meeting, grabbing her coat on the way to the elevators. She got Fame’s usual order as quickly as possible, along with her preferred apple cinnamon muffin to have on stand-by in case her blood sugar was having its usual pre-lunch dip, and returned to the 25th floor, shocked at the face that greeted her in the lobby when the elevator doors opened.

“Adore?”

“Courtney! Thank god. This bitch wouldn’t let me into Fame’s office-” Adore gestured towards Roxy, irritated, who gave her an equally dirty look in return, “And I need to talk to her.”

“Well…” Courtney beeped her access card, shooting Roxy an apologetic smile and saying, “Thanks, I got it.”

Once inside, she tossed her coat over her chair and turned back to Adore, who was rattling the doorknob of Fame’s office like a crazy person, pounding on the door.

“Fame? Fame, open up!”

“Adore…” Courtney touched her lightly on the shoulder. “She’s not in there. She’s in a meeting, with like, the whole senior design and marketing teams right now, and-”

“Well, I need to talk to her, right away.” Adore was clearly agitated.

“Are you okay? Can I-”

“No! I’m obviously not okay! I need to talk to her, now-”

“Okay. You wanna wait here until they break for lunch?” Courtney asked. “I can’t really ask her to leave without-”

“No, I want to talk to her. If you don’t want to interrupt, I will. I don’t give a shit about her meeting.” Adore charged forward, and Courtney caught her by the shoulders.

“Wait! Okay, I’ll tell her you’re here and that it’s urgent. Please, just…”

Adore seemed to begrudgingly accept this plan, crossing her arms and sitting on the edge of Courtney’s desk. “Two minutes and then I’m coming in.”

Courtney took a deep breath and made her way towards the conference room, trying not to wring her hands on the way. She was worried for whatever was making Adore so upset, but she also couldn’t help but roll her eyes a little at her demanding attitude. It wasn’t something that reared its head terribly often, but when it did...hoo boy. Spoiled brat Adore was by far the worst version of Adore--petulant, entitled, unyielding. Courtney prayed that she would get through this tantrum without a scene.  

Courtney re-entered the conference room, handing Miss Fame her coffee and then turning to a fresh page in her notebook and scribbling out a note, trying to be as concise as possible.

Adore Delano here. Very upset. Needs to talk. Says it’s urgent.

She underlined “urgent” before showing it to her boss, hoping that she wouldn’t get scolded for her friend’s behavior.

Fame glanced at the note and then stood up, clearing her throat.

“I have to go attend to a family matter,” she announced, “but I’ll be back shortly.” She gestured vaguely to the empty chair beside her seat, indicating that Courtney should stay and take notes.

Courtney quickly sat down, pulling over Miss Fame’s binder.

***

When Miss Fame entered her office suite, Adore was there, pacing around. She looked physically fine, which was a relief, but Fame was still concerned, knowing that Adore wouldn’t come to her, not in the middle of the day like this, unless something terrible had happened.

“Hello darling, what on earth is going on-”

“Don’t fucking darling me!” Adore snapped, catching her off guard, and Fame took a deep breath, opening her door to her office and ushering Adore inside before firmly shutting it. For one thing, it would give them some privacy. And for another, it would make sure that no one passing by saw Adore’s messy hair and booty shorts.

“Is anybody hurt?”

“Fuck you!”

Fame sighed, locking the door. If she was going to screech like a maniac, they may as well have as much soundproofing as possible.

“Now, Adore-” Fame began, but Adore immediately interrupted.

“What the fuck do I have to do for y’all to stop treating me like a fucking child?!” Adore burst out, and Fame couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“A child? Since I was at your 15th birthday, I don’t think that’s very fair-”

“Don’t change the subject!” Adore shouted, looking genuinely upset, her hand shaking.

“What is the subject, dearheart?” Fame took a step forward, but Adore stepped back. Fame could feel her panic rising, wondering if something was actually wrong with Bianca, if anyone had gotten hurt. “I think we missed a step here-”

“Pearl! Pearl, is the fucking subject!” Adore jabbed a finger against her chest, Fame looking down.

“Adore!” No one had done that to Fame since she was a child, the action incredibly upsetting and weird.

“Specifically,” Adore poked her, “you,” poke “fucking her.” Adore looked up, her eyes filled with anger. “Is that clear enough?”

“Oh.” Fame’s heart sank, the secret apparently out. The last thing she ever wanted was for Adore to get hurt, but here they were. “How did you…” Fame looked over her shoulder, making sure the door was locked, hoping that Courtney was still in the conference room.

“Look at me!”

“How did you find out about this-”

“Pearl told me!”

Fuck.

“She apparently thought that you’d told me already.”

“Good god.” Fame closed her eyes briefly, cursing herself for not being more explicit with Pearl back in September. “She really shouldn’t have done that.”

“She?!” Adore yelled. “Why didn’t you? Why do you all fucking tiptoe around, protect me like I’m a goddamn infant?!”

“Adore-”

“I’m 24 fucking years old! Half of your employees are younger than me, and I know for a fact that you don’t treat them like delicate little babies-”

“Please. Calm down, I don’t-” Fame held up her hands. “Please.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You want the truth? The grown-up truth?”

“Yes!”

“Me not telling you about my…” Fame made a vague gesture, “history with Pearl. That wasn’t to protect you. That was to protect myself.”

“What…” Adore looked momentarily thrown by this, her anger replaced with confusion, and Fame pulled her onto the sofa, taking the opportunity to grasp one of her hands.

“She’s my employee, Adore.” Fame rubbed her thumb over Adore’s hand, gently caressing it. “We may have had an understanding between us, but…” Fame sighed. “Nobody else would--could understand.”

“You mean like your husband?” Adore shot back, face twisting once more into anger. “I can’t believe you would cheat on him, that you would-”

“I would never ‘cheat’ on Patrick. He knows everything. You don’t need to worry about my marriage. But I mean that if my...Interests came out publicly, it would be very damaging to my professional reputation. That’s what I feared.”

“And you didn’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anybody with things like this, Adore. So instead of telling you, I just...broke things off with her, and made sure she knew how much I love you. That I would be very angry if she mistreated you.”

Adore bit her lip, taking in what Fame had said, her blue eyes misty. “You went behind my back and told my girlfriend to be nice, or she’d be in trouble? Don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

“I’m sorry. It was a bad decision, but it wasn’t because I was trying to baby you. It was...it doesn’t matter. I can see now that I should have told you instead.”

“Yes. But…” Adore sighed. “I guess I understand why you didn’t.”

“I’m glad,” Fame said. “Thank you for that.”

She pulled Adore close, hugging her tightly, trying to show how sorry she was. When Bianca had taken custody of Adore nearly ten years earlier, Fame felt like she shared the responsibility to look out for her.

She knew, of course, that sometimes that meant that she was overprotective, and maybe even patronizing, but she couldn’t help it: Adore would always be a sweet baby to her, someone who had been through hell far too young, who deserved to be a bit spoiled and sheltered.

“There’s one more thing I need to know,” Adore said, still chewing on her lip.

“What is it?”

“Does my sister know?”

Fame took a deep breath, tucking a lock of Adore’s fading purple hair behind her ear. “She does. But she’s the only one. Besides Patrick. And now you. And she promised me, swore on her life, that she’d never tell.”

“Hmm.”

***

“We’ll get the results tomorrow, and it isn’t that I’m like, nervous nervous, I just hope I have done a good enough job-”

Sutan smiled as he listened to Violet chat, the fact that she was actually sharing her honest feelings about Galactica’s prêt-à-porter collection feeling like a big deal.

Sutan had asked Violet out for lunch since he was already in midtown for a meeting, the two of them now walking hand in hand around Central Park, Sutan drinking coffee while Violet was sipping on tea. The air was crisp, Autumn leaves covering the ground, the people of New York taking in the beautiful day.

“Sutan!” Sutan felt a pull on his hand, Violet stopping dead in her tracks. “Sutan, look!”

He turned his head, not even registering what was happening before Violet had shoved her tea and bag into his arms, letting go of him to make a beeline towards a couple that were walking a small dog.

“Excuse me-” Violet cleared her throat, catching the couple’s attention. “Can I pet your dog? Please?”

“Of course!”

The couple smiled, and Sutan watched as Violet crouched down on the ground, quickly taking off her gloves and handing them to Sutan so the pug could sniff her fingers.

“Hey there, hello gorgeous, hi,” Violet smiled, her hand soon running over the puppy’s head, scratching it behind the ears. “That’s it, that’s a good boy.”

Sutan tilted his head. He had never seen Violet interact with a pet before, and somehow, he had assumed that she would be either a pet hater or a cat person, but she looked genuinely happy, and completely in love with the dog.

“What’s his name?”

“Dough. It’s his first trip to Central Park, he’s been looking forward to it all week.”

“Really?” Violet looked up, her smile never wavering as she chatted with the couple about the dog. “Oh Sutan, look how cute he is.”

“He’s very-”

“Who’s a good boy?” Violet grinned, cutting off Sutan as she scratched the pug’s chin. “Who’s a good boy?”

Sutan took a sip of his coffee, hiding a grin as Violet’s bag dug into the crock of his elbow. He had never seen Violet so willingly talk to strangers, had never seen her be so overly excited about anything that wasn’t related to fashion. He took another sip, pocketing Violet’s gloves as he watched her play with the dog, a sense of calm washing over him as Violet made Dough chase his own tail.

[new-sandrafilter]

True Romance: Saoirse Ronan and Timothée Chalamet on reuniting for Little Women

They may be posing in an airy lower Manhattan studio, but Timothée Chalamet and Saoirse Ronan have a way of making you feel right at home. “I made a little playlist this morning,” Chalamet announces to the room. He syncs up his cell phone to the sound system, his boyish grin widening as Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” starts blaring. He returns to the camera, which snaps him and Ronan at a furious pace.

It’s their first joint cover shoot. He’s wearing a shimmery striped shirt with high-waist trousers; she’s rocking a shirtdress, fishnet stockings, and clear stilettos. He keeps cracking her up; she musses his hair with doting affection. During a break that follows, he wanders, gripping a paper bag stuffed with assorted bagels — from Tompkins Square Bagels, which Chalamet, a lifelong New Yorker, insists are the best in the city — and offering one to anyone in his path. He sings and dances — very Elio-in-the-town-square-like — to Bob Dylan’s “Tombstone Blues.” He creeps behind a distracted Ronan before spooking her with a yelp. “I didn’t even know you were there!” she exclaims, reddening from the fright but with a smile so lovingly at ease, you sense she’s used to the prank.

They’ve known each other, after all, for some time. About three years ago, Ronan, now 25, and Chalamet, 23, met filming Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig’s solo directorial debut, in which Ronan’s irrepressible heroine (briefly) romances Chalamet’s douchey amateur musician. They reunited with Gerwig last year, on the heels of Lady Bird’s Oscar-nominated success, for a bigger undertaking: a remake of the oft-remade Little Women (Dec. 25). Ronan and Chalamet slipped into the roles of tomboyish Jo March and buoyant Theodore “Laurie” Laurence, best friends who ultimately break each other’s hearts. Their courtship ranks among American culture’s oldest tales of unrequited love — made indelible by Katharine Hepburn and Douglass Montgomery, Winona Ryder and Christian Bale, and so many others — yet finds, in the hands of two of the most compelling actors of their generation, galvanizing new life.

That goes, in fact, for the whole of Gerwig’s Little Women. Her version certainly contains the snow-globe coziness of treasured adaptations past, but also carries a fizzy emotional authenticity and attention to detail. The film is remarkably lived-in, too: This take on Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel, which follows Jo and her three sisters pre– and post–American Civil War, feels plucked straight from the text in the best way, with siblings fighting like siblings, love and loss and hope and pain vividly experienced on screen.

Ronan and Chalamet’s charming big sister–little brother dynamic is not unlike the one that Jo and Laurie share in Little Women. Watch the actors play off one another, and the film’s tender realism clarifies itself: Their on-camera intimacy is just as palpable behind the scenes. Indeed, after shooting Lady Bird for a few weeks, the pair hung out regularly over the next year, making the awards-circuit rounds and scoring lead-acting Oscar nominations — Ronan for Lady Bird, Chalamet for Call Me by Your Name — before swiftly signing on to Little Women. In advance of filming in Concord, Mass. (the actual setting of the book), Gerwig and producer Amy Pascal gathered the large production’s cast and crew for rehearsals at a house just outside the town. For Ronan and Chalamet, the contrast between this and their early Lady Bird days was immense. “I felt very prideful… about how big it had gotten, how many people were there,” Chalamet recounts. “On Lady Bird it was, like, 25 people hanging out in a house!”

They fell back into each other’s rhythms instantly. “He keeps me on my toes — I’m never quite sure what he’s going to do next,” Ronan says. “That only progressed more and grew more. It helped that we do have a very natural rapport with each other…. These two characters physically need to be very comfortable with one another. They’re literally intertwined for half the film.” Chalamet adds: “In the least clichéd way possible, it really doesn’t feel like [I’m] acting sometimes [with her].”

Chalamet credits Gerwig, too, for establishing a playful, comfortable atmosphere. He thinks back to his first day of rehearsal: He reunited with Ronan. He introduced himself to Emma Watson (who plays the eldest March sister, Meg). He was guided into a third-floor conference room of a “random building” where, “all of a sudden, there was a full dance class going on.” He recalls fondly: “Everyone breaks down and becomes a little kid. This job is so trippy in that regard — you want to be serious, you want to be professional, and then it’s almost best when you’re able to be 12 years old. When it’s someone you’re actually friends with, it makes it easier.”

Ronan smirks, gearing up for a jab: “We’re not friends!” Delighted, Chalamet keeps the bit going. “We’re not friends,” he says, solemnly. For once, they’re not very convincing.

Greta Gerwig doesn’t remember a time before she knew Jo March. “[Little Women] was very much part of who I always was,” the writer-director, 36, says. “It was something my mother read to me when I was growing up. It’s been with me for a very long time.”

She joined Sony Pictures’ new Little Women adaptation when she was hired to write the script in 2016. Once Lady Bird bowed the next year, she emerged as a candidate to direct the film. “Greta had a very specific, energized, kind of punk-rock, Shakespearean take on this story,” Pascal says. “She came in and had a meeting with all of us and said, ‘I know this has been done before, but nobody can do it but me.’” She got the gig.

In her approach, Gerwig drew on her lifelong relationship with Little Women; beyond childhood, she discovered new, complex layers to the novel, and in turn to Alcott’s legacy. “As a girl, my heroine was Jo March, and as a grown lady, my heroine is Louisa May Alcott,” she says. It’s perhaps why Gerwig’s Little Women feels like the most adult — and modern — version of the story that’s reached the screen to date. The movie begins with the March sisters in adulthood — typically where the narrative’s second half begins — and unfolds like a memory play, shifting back and forth between that present-day frame and extended flashbacks to the childhood scenes etched in the American literary canon.

In that, Gerwig finds fascinating, fresh areas of exploration regarding women’s lives: the choices society forces them to make, the beauty and struggles of artistic pursuit, the consequences of rebellion. Jo’s journey as a writer anchors Gerwig’s direction; tempestuous Amy (Florence Pugh) gets more of a spotlight as she matures as a painter (and Laurie’s eventual wife); and Meg is realized with newfound nuance: “We felt it was important to show Meg juggling all her roles — a mother, a wife, a sister — whilst also celebrating her dreams, despite them being different to those of her sisters,” says Watson. But Gerwig doesn’t see herself as reinventing the wheel. “A lot of the lines in the film are taken right from the book,” she explains. “When Amy says, ‘I want to be great or nothing’ — she says that in the book! I don’t think we remember that, but she does say it.” Gerwig also loves one line spoken by the sisters’ mother, Marmee (Laura Dern), also revived in this version: “I’m angry almost every single day.”

Gerwig compiled a “bible” filled with cultural references: to Whistler tableaux of family life, to David Bowie–Jean Seberg hairdos that inspire the look of Jo’s mid-film cut, to Alcott family letters. “I wanted it to be footnote-able,” Gerwig says. “I wanted to point to it and say, ‘This is where this is from.’” She considers Alcott’s text sacred: “I wanted to treat the text as something that could be made fresh by great acting.”

Beyond those charged but less quoted Little Women lines are its famous ones — throw-pillow staples like Jo’s “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” that no adaptation is complete without. The actors rehearsed these “almost like a song,” pushing to move through them with a rapid musicality. “We [read] the book out loud,” says Dern. Gerwig expected the script’s words to be memorized precisely. “I knew I wanted them to get this cadence that felt sparkly and slightly irreverent,” she says. “I wanted to make them move at the speed of light.”

She poured the same love into iconic scenes, like Jo and Laurie’s ebullient dance that follows their first meeting. Here it goes on longer — and more vibrantly — than in any previous iteration. (Ronan says they filmed it at 3 a.m., to boot, adding, “We must have done it, like, 30 times.”) Then there’s the devastating moment when Laurie asks Jo to marry him and she rejects his proposal. Gerwig tasked the two actors to unleash here. “Emotions just bubble over,” Ronan says. “[Greta] just let us go with it, wherever it went, from take to take. What I loved about that scene is that every take would be different emotionally. It didn’t have the same trajectory.

“The two of us, it’s a relationship I have with no other director,” Ronan continues. “She makes me feel like I can try anything.”

As Ronan and Chalamet emerge from their photo-studio dressing area in impossibly chic new ensembles — she donning a form-fitting knit sweater, he a silky, ruffled top — their creative energy fills the space. They try out different poses, debating concepts and ideas with each other on the fly; at one point he wraps his arms around her waist, and she quips to no one in particular, “We’re expecting our first.” Camera snap.

They’re modeling a new brand of movie stardom — pursuing projects with a point of view, adamantly being themselves in the public eye, subverting gender norms. Their androgynous fashion performance here reflects their wardrobe shake-ups in Little Women: Gerwig and Oscar-winning costumer Jacqueline Durran (Anna Karenina) had the two actors swapping clothes throughout filming, to reinforce the masculine-feminine fluidity between Jo and Laurie. “They are two halves,” as Pascal puts it. “These are really bold characters that are really different than you’ve seen them before.”

And just as Gerwig expressed a need to direct Little Women, Ronan knew in her bones she needed to play Jo. She’d first encountered the story via the 1994 film when she was 11, and later read the book, feeling an immediate kinship with the young woman she’d come to portray. “When Louisa describes Jo, it felt like someone describing me physically: sort of gangly and stubborn and very straightforward, and went for what she wanted.” At an event for Lady Bird, she — in a very Jo kind of way — just “went at it” by approaching Gerwig. “I said, ‘So I want to be in Little Women, but only if I’m playing Jo.’” (Chalamet, for his part, was asked by Gerwig, “Hey, want to do another movie?” He responded: “Yes. Yes, please.”)

Over months of living in Concord with her castmates, Ronan discovered new depths within herself: “Jo’s ethos is ‘Everything everyone else is doing, I’m going to do the opposite.’ [I had] to try things that I’d never tried before. Be a bit messier with a performance.” Gerwig set up etiquette lessons for the cast; whatever the instructor said (“Don’t shake hands! Don’t gesticulate with your arms!”), Ronan made sure to ignore it. She speaks now of this as freeing, even transformative. “I felt like I had tapped into something I’d never gotten the opportunity to tap into before, or I just didn’t have the guts to tap into myself,” she says. “Finding that was just amazing.”

Shortly after wrapping Little Women, she filmed Wes Anderson’s next film, The French Dispatch — marking her third time costarring with Chalamet, who plays a central role. As for now? Ronan is taking a little break. “I’ll wait for the right thing to come along,” she says. “It’s lovely to be in a position at this moment where I can wait for the absolute right thing.” Same goes for Chalamet — he shot Netflix’s The King (out Oct. 11) right before Little Women and just completed production on Denis Villeneuve’s Dune adaptation. “It’s the first time in almost two years I’ve gotten a breath, so I’m savoring it.”

It’s been a long day. They’re back in comfy clothes; Ronan is taking a late lunch. It feels like both actors — as another whirlwind of acclaim and press and romance-shipping awaits — are at a kind of peace, exhausted but satisfyingly so. Little Women is the biggest movie either has done to date; more attention, as they inhabit such revered characters, is sure to follow. “I just haven’t thought about it that way,” Ronan admits. “Maybe because it’s just Greta — even though it’s on a much bigger scale, she wanted it to feel like Lady Bird.”

Ronan understands the timeless power of Little Women, of course: “It’s as important to tell Little Women right now as it would be at any point in our lifetime.” She points to this pop culture climate of “celebrating female friendships and sisterhood,” and continues, “It’s a story that’s full of love. That will always be relevant.”

She turns toward Chalamet, and you realize the love they brought to Alcott’s classic is what first blossomed between them on Lady Bird. “I love that in Lady Bird, you broke my heart,” she says to him softly. “In Little Women, I got to break your heart.” (Chalamet, ever the goofball, finds an obvious opening: “Yes, that’s true. Then I married your sister. Ha, ha, ha!”)

If this all sounds a little idyllic, well, neither actor — nor Gerwig, nor Pascal, nor the rest of the cast — can do much to convince you otherwise. Shifting back to Little Women’s timelessness, and reflecting on Ronan’s comments about it, Chalamet says, “I don’t know how to add to that.” Instead he turns back to his costar, his expression suddenly sincere, filled with gratitude. “But if I can add one little dose of information,” he says with a nervous laugh. “And not just because she’s sitting next to me.” He credits Ronan with bringing that “timeless energy.” He says “thank God” they were able to make the movie. “It’s so rare with Saoirse — I’m so f—ing grateful to get to work with her,” he says. “Whatever book I write for myself when I’m older, to look back on —” He stops himself. “Well, this is a bigger conversation.”

But Ronan, chuckling, doesn’t let him off the hook. “Will I have, like, a chapter?” And Chalamet laughs — another opening, another chance to act with his greatest scene partner, to see what journey of creation and discovery they’ll go on next. “A chapter of Saoirse,” he says.

At this rate, one chapter won’t suffice.

[mysterioh]

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Cop!Reader

Summary: The year is 1989 and what better way to prepare for the next decade than with a killing spree? A string of gruesome deaths has thrust the city of New York into absolute mayhem and terror causing intoxicating fear to settle within the niches of the city's underbelly. Having used up every trick in the book and earning nothing, Police Commissioner Stark seeks the aid of the NYPD's most elite task force.

A force of two.

A reticent genius and a cheeky casanova.

WARNINGS: Death, Murder, Graphic Depictions of Violence and Gore, Language, Usage of Drugs, All the makings of a Crime Show.

A/N: This is for @captainscanadian​ 1K Writing Challenge. Thank you for letting me join! I chose to do a Cop AU because Cop!Bucky is a concept 🥵👌. Although I think this is more Detective than Cop? But oh well. I want to finish the entire thing before posting but here’s the intro to get a mood. I spent a week on this afjksdjflasa so I hope you like it.

Masterlist 

00. | A Body

9:30 P.M. 

Bed-Nos Avs Station

Bedford-Stuyvesant, NY

Friday, October 13, 1989

-

The rain will wash it away. 

God, Tony, have some respect. 

Her body was slumped over, half-laying, half-sitting in a puddle of rain mingling with her own blood. Where there had been smooth skin in the core of her chest was torn muscle and blood, as raw as any carcass.  The scarlet liquid had drenched the frayed ends of the cotton fabric running over her chest and diffused into the rest of her pure white blouse. 

Her auburn hair, once curled into striking, buoyant waves, was sopping wet. The color of her rosy cheeks had vanished, leaving her skin a pale, sickly silver streaked by lines of dark wet mascara. Her mouth was ajar as if paused mid-scream. 

The light had left her eyes, but held a story. One of pain, fear, epiphany. The flickering streetlight casting its dim light upon her likened her to one of the sculpted women that had seen God. 

The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa but with a much more sinister tone.  

You could say it was the long hours that came with the job, but Tony sensed there was more to it than what appeared on the surface. 

It wasn’t a mugging gone wrong. The chain-handle Chanel bags with its spilled contents of drugstore makeup products and a meager amount of cash thrown a few feet away was proof of that. It was murder. 

A clingy ex? A jealous co-worker? A greedy brother after her share of the inheritance? Okay, that may be pushing it a bit. 

Whatever it was. Whoever it was. They decided not to go easy on her. Her skin was torn to shreds, the red muscle underneath butchered from repeated stabbing until you could see white bone glistening from the rain. 

Tony watches the forensics team cover the body, a stream of innocent blood trickles down the asphalt of the alley as they handle her into a bag. He realizes, much to his chagrin, this case was beyond him. 

“Sir?” Peter draws his attention to him. “Is everything okay” 

“Yeah, it’s fine kid,” he nods while turning to the young man. 

“What should we do now?” he questions. “This is the third one in the past three weeks.” 

“I know,” Tony grunted, stern and frustrated. “I know,” he sighs in defeat. He turns on his heel and walks towards his car. Peter stumbles behind him, keeping the umbrella over the both of them. Tony stops and turns back to Peter. 

“Pete, if you were me, what the hell would you do?” 

Peter blinks at his question in confusion. He swallows, pausing for a second to ponder on his question.

“I don’t know, Sir,” he answered, “none of us know what to do. Maybe you should ask for help?” he asked with caution. “Maybe the FBI or something?” 

Tony snorted. “There’s no way in hell I’m giving this to the feds, ya hear me?” he states, “I might as well hand in my badge cause I won’t hear the end.” His hazel eyes pooled with disdain. “Mark my words, Pete, the feds will not get this case. I swear it on my father’s grave.” 

“You shouldn’t swear, Sir,” the young officer was quick to reply. 

The captain’s lips purse into a stern pout as he turns on his heel and continues to walk in wide strides. Peter skips behind him with the umbrella, cursing himself for opening his big mouth. 

Peter was right. He needed help. Three murders. No suspects or even a minuscule clue. Tony knew what this was turning into, and he had to wrap it up before it spiraled out of control. The problem is he didn’t know how. 

Tony stops dead in his tracks, and Peter halts behind him. Peter peaks from behind the captain and finds two people standing across the street in front of the station. Blinking neon lights against the brick wall outlined their figures with a soft metallic glow as glistening drops of rain cascaded off the rims of their umbrellas. They walked towards him with heavy footsteps splashing in the craters of the old road. 

The world remains constant as cops leave the scene and the body is being loaded into an ambulance, but he pauses. Shades of blue and red beaming from the emergency lights color him in a sign of alert. His heartbeat thumps in tandem with the steady pitter-patter of raindrops against the black umbrella. And just as quickly as it all slows down, it picks up again at rapid speed. 

Crossing the street, the two of them approach him.

"Captain Stark," you greeted sternly. 

Tony squints. He tilts his head back a bit, examining the two. His lips parted in a slant as he spoke. 

"Yeah," he slurs, "who the hell are you?" 

Bucky chuckled as if he was mocking Tony’s ignorance. The silver watch adorning his wrist glints under the streetlight. 

"Nick Fury sent us," he spoke. His lips curve upward, flashing the pearl white hidden behind pink lips. "We're here to help." 

TAGLIST: @murdermornings​ @chuckennuggets1213​ @fckdeusername​ @marshyrebelcloud​ @miraclesoflove​

if you’d like to be tagged pls let me know through ask! 

[barryallenis]

A Different Time

What would happen if 2020 Barry Allen met 2049 Iris West-Allen?

Trial and Error. That had been the basis of the last few weeks facing the daunting and nearly unprecedented goal of creating an artificial speed force. 

Now this was not frivolous trial and error; whims being thrown at the wall to see if they’d stick. Every idea was planned, calculated, fervently scribbled across a dry erase board before ever being tested.

However, this particular trial was their biggest risk yet. Risky, in that it would take the most out of Barry’s rapidly depleting speed to attempt. But it was the best idea they had thought of in weeks. And as his powers depleted with every clock tick, it became more and more essential that they find an answer. 

That is how Barry ended up here, in this unintended destination, clad in red suit, fixed in the front entryway he had left from just this morning. 

How had he ended here? Back in the loft?

Unless...

Barry moved quickly deeper into the foyer, though not sure exactly what he was searching for at such a rapid pace. He ignored the angry light flashing from his wrist watch as he scanned the open loft in front of him. 

What could prove this was the speed force? 

A sun beam caught a glass vase on the table that sat comfortably behind a very different sofa than Barry remembered. His eyes gravitated towards the light stream, bringing into view all the tables contents. He slowly removed his cowl to get better vision. A glass vase full of seemingly fake flowers, a few books (gold etched titles illegible in the sunlight) and a few framed pictures. One, housed a familiar portrait of him and Iris laughing in the park, the other, however, was a picture he had no memory of taking. 

There was the couch he remembered, and on it, he and Iris, beaming towards the camera. Or rather, he was beaming towards the camera, and Iris was beaming towards the dark curled bundle that sat on her lap. 

The feeling that hit him was indescribable, but it was, unmistakably, unlike the dreamlike wonder Ramsey had dangled in front of him in a child's mobile. It felt … real. The dimbles on his cheeks, the loving gaze Iris placed on their daughter, the squint of the baby’s eyes that looked as though she were just about to laugh, it all felt too visceral. There was no mirage involved this time. 

“B - Barry?”

Barry spun around through the haze that picture had created around him to another sight that shook him to his core. His wife, older and grayer, but unmistakable, the wife he had seen just this morning, in that very spot, whipping toothpaste from her mouth as she stumbled down the stairs for her to-go cup of coffee.

This was surely the future, Barry thought. The light on his wrist flashed darker, but Barry didn't pay it any mind. Maybe things had corrected after all. He, and Iris and Nora all in the future together... 

“Iris.”

She darted her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry I just - it’s been so long since I’ve heard you say my name.” 

And there, almost like twisting a healing wound, Barry felt the same feeling he had when grabbing for the daughter he couldn’t hold. But this wasn’t a mirage, he reminded himself painfully, this was real.

“What - what year is it?” 

“2049. What year are you …?” 

“2020.” 

Iris bit her lip.

“So you don’t even know -��� 

“About Nora?” Barry finished. 

Her eyes widened. “You - you know about Nora?”

“She - she came back in time to 2019 but she - you don’t know any of this, do you?”

She shook her head, her eyes moistening, she closed them like the saturation was making it unbearable to see. “God what have I done?” 

Barry stepped closer to her, her body stiffened like she was receiving an unwanted approach by a stranger on the street.

“I’m sorry.” She croaked. “It’s just been so long I -”

What was this timeline? Nora was alive but he was … gone? The idea that another crisis would take him away from his family when he had been given a new lease on life felt like being stabbed, a feeling which he did in fact have a real life comparison to. He had so many questions that he knew he shouldn’t ask. But one, currently, beat out the rest.

“Where is Nora?” 

Tears were falling now, openly, Iris shook her head again, “She ran out that door, just before - all because I kept…” she met Barry’s eyes again, and in their gaze her resolve shifted. Her back straightened as she stared pointedly at the face she hadn’t seen for decades. “I protected our daughter above everything, like we said, the best I could -“ 

Barry’s throat felt tight, “I know.” 

Iris huffed a laugh while liquid in her eyes remained. “You know? How do you know?” 

“Because I know you.” 

Her locked eyes on the super-heroic man were not met with grasping reassurance but instead oozed with sincerity. He truly did know her, every part, or at least, the Iris she has been in 2020. If she were honest, she wasn’t sure she could even remember who that was. What stood in front of her was Barry, undoubtedly. But it wasn’t her Barry. This Barry belonged to an Iris from another time. Her Barry, the one that was supposed to grow grey streaks and wrinkles with her, that was her Barry, and he was not here.

“Aren’t you gonna ask?” She said suddenly.

“Ask what?” 

“Where you are?” 

“I don’t think I -“ 

“Crisis.” Iris blurted, feeling an unwavering lack of care for the fact that revelations such as these could lead to lapses in the timeline. Maybe it was the cumulation of the last 30 years or maybe it was simply the last few minutes, but she didn’t give the words a second thought as they escaped her mouth. “The newspaper headline we couldn’t change this time.” 

It was then that Barry realized what he was in was not his future. It was a future. A previous one, one that no longer existed. And staring at his tear stained wife, knowing his daughter had just stood where he stood, he couldn’t quite tell whether that made him happy ... or sad. 

What he was in was real, at a time. But it wasn’t real anymore. 

“Iris...” What could he say? And if he had really entered a now extinct timeline what did it even matter? However, looking at his wife’s tear stained cheeks it felt like it mattered a great deal. So as his mind raced thinking through the 30 year gap that stood between them, he too, blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Because it was already what he had spent the last several months telling her. “You are an amazing mother.” 

Tears filled again. She felt like she was back in 2024, right back to one of the last nights she had with her husband. They laid across a couch she couldn’t bear to sleep on again as he cradled their sleeping daughter in his arms for one of the very last times…. 

“I did what I had to do, to keep her safe. Maybe it wasn’t the right choice but after everything... Barry I couldn’t risk - I couldn’t risk losing her too.”

Barry’s mind felt waves of emotions all at once. Heartbroken, knowing Nora’s fate, and heartbroken, knowing decisions he made had put Iris in this much pain. 

That was real. He did that. 

“I’m sorry Iris. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. That I put you in a place where you had to make that decision. I’m sorry … that I wasn’t there to see our daughter grow up. That I left you - that I left our family.” He swallowed hard, “And I know 30 years later maybe this doesn’t mean anything, and I deserve that. But I need you to know how proud I am of you. Of all that I know you accomplished in your journalistic career, and of the amazing, intelligent, kindhearted daughter you raised. Iris I saw the kind of person she is, right now. She didn’t get that from me.” 

It suddenly became unbearable to look at him. The red suit, the puff of hair he’d leave bouncing about, the dimples that were still there, so young, just the way she remembered them. She honed her sight on floor lines. 

“Please ... ” she kept her eyes trained downward, weighing the gravity of the words she so wanted to say. “Please … don’t do it. If I can ask anything of you, it would be to please… choose a different path.”

Between the look on her daughter's face as she sped away and the stark reminder she had just been slapped with right in front of her, Iris suddenly felt more desperate than she had in 30 years. She was ready to rewrite time for a different outcome. To bring him back. She’d risk any disturbances her plea may cause. 

Finally, Barry found a small sliver of hope in a promise he actually could make. 

“Iris I will always come running home to you. No matter what.”

[suoidea]

Please Me

Pairing: Thor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has been stuck at work and rarely spends time with Thor.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink ... I think that’s it lol

A/N: Okay this is my first time ever writing like proper smut, so please excuse if it’s not as detailed or an incredibly vivid experience. Feedback would be so lovely for me to improve!! xx 

Word count: 1.8k

Dedicated to @lovelykhaleesiii 

Just 10 more minutes, you thought. Ten more aggravating minutes until you get to finally clock off and head straight home. The past few weeks you’ve been stuck with late evening shifts, every single day of the week.

Initially, you could tolerate it … always managing to compensate for the time lost from seeing your loved ones, particularly Thor.

However, as the weeks dragged on, so did your hours; only recently getting the opportunity to leave just 30 minutes earlier. Regardless, Thor was not at all fond of your current situation.

Your frequent absence had caused quite a whirlwind within the Avengers compound with Thor’s bitterness. He slowly became more tense, more irritated with any slight inconvenience, yet more reserved.

He longed to cradle your body close to his every night, and battled to keep his weary eyes open, though luck was not on either of your sides as you’re almost always welcomed with light snores and heavy breathing.

His emotions took a great toll on him, especially on missions. He lacked focus and became less agile, which resulted in an amass of bruising and acute injuries. Though the physical pain can never amount to his deprivation of you. Everyone at the compound had noticed this sudden change and gradually pieced it together as they barely even caught sight of the two of you, knowing it was best not to intervene.

Once your shift had ended, you did not hesitate to just drop everything, sign off, make a run for the door and immediately drove home. You didn’t even bother grabbing all of your things before you were already inside the comfort of the compound.

As you made your way up to your room, you pushed it open and noticed the shadow of Thor’s hunched figure on the corner of your bed. It warmed your heart to know of his attempts in waiting for your arrival, regardless of having his own tiresome days.    

You approached his side, relieved to see his face glisten under the moonlight that seeped through the crevice of your curtains. You knelt down and gently pushed the strands of his golden locks away from his face and tucked it behind. The warmth of your touch had awoken him from his slumber, revealing those deep blue orbs.

“I fell asleep again didn’t I?” He murmured, his tone raspy and groggy.

You chuckled lightly and nodded in response, “It’s alright, just go back to sleep… I’ll be back soon.” You pecked his forehead and headed towards your shared bathroom.

Stripped off of your dirty and over-worn uniform, you stepped inside the shower, toes flinching from the cold touch of the tiles that sent shivers down your spine. Turning on the tap, you felt your body relax as the lukewarm water trickled from your hair and down your back. Your mind fades into dullness, the steamy water calms your aching limbs.

You noticed the shower door open abruptly, revealing the tired and groggy Thor in nothing but a white singlet paired with grey sweatpants.

“Babe what are you—"

He steps inside the shower with you, the steam engulfs his broad figure as he stares down and joined you.

“It’s been way too long.” He gruntled.

Before you could think twice, Thor pins you against the wall, trapping your naked body under his broad figure.

“So beautiful … I’ve missed this sight of you.”

He roughly presses his lips onto yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. You felt his large hands roam around your body, feeling the need to touch every inch of you.

His luscious lips, plump and hot, travelled from your lips down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, his firm grip on your waist pulling you closer. You wrapped your hands around his neck, feeling the sensation of his tongue dance across your neck and down your collarbone.

You moaned at his every touch, arching your back as he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down your sternum.

“You like that baby? Did you miss the feeling of me touching you huh … getting this turned on and aroused?” His hands travelled down to your ass, spanking both cheeks, his palm leaving a clear imprint. He spanks you again in the same area, your breath hitched from the stinging sensation.

You wrapped one leg around his waist in response, pulling him closer. You felt his cock getting hard through the thick layer of his sweatpants.

“Use your words Y/N.” He ordered.

“Yes baby …” Was all you could utter.

You grind your pussy against his erect cock, the friction sending electricity through your body. You pushed your body against his, further intensifying the pressure of your damp pussy on his throbbing cock.

You whimpered as Thor pulls away shortly and hastily threw his sweatpants off.

“You’re eager aren’t you babe … did you miss the feeling of my hard cock inside your tight pussy mhm?” He smirked at your response, loving how turned on you get. He strokes his cock, large and hard, as he stares at your body briefly. Taking in your curves, he watches intensely as the water cascades between your breasts, licking his lips just at the very sight of you under the water. Wet. Bare and naked.  

You nodded in response and he closed the gap between you two.

You felt Thor fondle with your tit with his tongue, flicking your nipple up and down, sending your nerves through the roof. You bucked your hips against him, feeling the heat between your thighs sharpen.

This didn’t go unnoticed, seemingly as though Thor could smell the pool of juices between your thighs, his palm forced your legs to spread wide enough to gain full access to your damp pussy.

He slips in two fingers inside you, earning a gasp in response, as he didn’t give you any time to adjust and pumped them at a swift pace. You held onto his shoulders for support, feeling every muscle contract as he quickened his pace; hearing nothing but the sweet sounds of your moans and his palm slapping against the folds of your pussy.

“Thor … baby, deeper” You moaned breathlessly.

He growls at your fervour, loving the sight of you getting undone simply from his bare hands.

He added another finger in you, curling them inside. Your head falls back as you feel a knot forming in your stomach.

“Mhmm baby, you taste so sweet.” Thor pulls his fingers out and cleans it out with one lick.

“Let’s take this back to the bed, shall we” He rumbled, turning off the shower tap. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he hoists you up carrying you towards your bed, his lips never leaving yours.

“Now I want your juices all over my cock,” Thor snickered, as he flips you over.

“On your knees baby and spread them cheeks” He growls.

You obliged and moved onto your hands and knees, pushing your upper body down. Thor placed the head of his engorged cock at the entrance of your wet pussy, with his other hand having a solid grasp on your side.

Your eyes widen as Thor slowly pulled you back along the whole length of his erection.

“Baby you’re so tight, did you miss daddy stretching you out … make you feel this good?” He questioned, the vibration of his husky voice making your pussy tingle even more.

Your mouth gaped wide open, as Thor filled and stretched your pussy walls.

“O my fucking god- YESS!!”

He speeds up his pace, working his cock in and out of your heat. Thor cupped your asscheeks, the feeling of them slapping against his balls sent him on fire.

“Thor … please, faster …” You whimpered, yearning for him to fuck you good.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” He said, “I can feel your juices drip down my cock … I forgot just how well your pussy takes me in.” You moaned at his words, hearing him talk dirty aroused you even more.

“Oh god,” You screamed, “Yes do it to me. Fuck me Thor … just like that.” Your mind goes blank, filled with only the sweet sensation of his cock being rammed inside you.

He flips you two over so that he now laid on his back, positioning you on top. You grind your hips forward, taking his full length deep inside as you could get. You continued to grind on him, leaning forward to sloppily kiss him as you gradually reached your peak. Thor plunged harder and faster into your cunt, sweat dripping down his forehead from the intense and rapid fucking.

“Fucking hell, I missed feeling you inside me— o my god.” Your moans filled the room, along with the sounds of his cock slapping against the folds of your cunt.

“Lean back baby.” Thor pushes you slightly giving him full display of your pussy.

Thor stroked your clit, feeling your body twitch at the added pressure. He continued to slam his cock inside of you, overlapped with his grunts feeling the full force of his thrusts.

He could the muscles in your cunt begin to tighten and quiver around his enlarged member; your body beginning to shake. Thor knew your orgasm was building up.

“Ugh don’t cum just yet.”

Thor increased the speed of his thrusts, gripping your hips as he deepened his length inside you. A wave of curses bounced off the walls, screaming Thor’s name in muffled moans.

“Thor … baby please don’t stop.” You were left breathless.

“Yes … beg for it … beg for my cock to fuck you even harder and deeper … beg!”

“Please … please fuck me harder.”

“Please what?”

“Please daddy!” You whimpered, moaning again as Thor continued to bury himself inside of you.

“That’s more like it” Thor lets another loud, low, animalistic moan at the feeling of your cunt clench around his.

“Thor I’m gonna cum”

“Not until I say so!”

Thor’s thrusts became sloppy still hitting your g spot. He pulls you down to his heaving chest, wrapping both of his arms tightly around you to keep you in place.

“Cum with me baby!” Veins popping and muscles tense, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, as you reached the peak of your orgasm, followed with the spurt of Thor’s cum fill your inside, screaming in ecstasy.

Your body went limp and melted into the bed. Thor collapsed on top of you, feeling the warmth emitting from your sweaty bodies.

Momentarily, he rolled off beside you. You were both panting, chest heaving, almost as though you had run a bloody marathon.

“Maybe I should be gone more often if I get to be fucked like that!” You smirked as you rolled over your side facing Thor. His hair drenched and sprawled across his face; you move a few strands.

“No, never again. It’s been torturous!”

You chuckled in response, Thor pulling closer to him. You rested your head on his chest, taking in this blissful intimacy post-sex.

“You up for round two?” He grinned down at you.

“I could never say no!”

[quietlydiabolic]

“Attack of the Killer Robotos” - BassRock short oneshot fanfic

By: Jixie Fandom: Mega Man Classic @bassrockweek: May 15 - Zombie Rating: G Words: 1770

There was always a sort of order amidst the chaos. For all the trouble and destruction Dr. Wily caused, he also had some sort of compulsion to do things a certain way, using certain patterns. Set zones. Defined attacks. Eight Robot Masters. The winding path through Skull Fortress.

Order amid chaos.

Which is what made this so weird.

It was… unpredictable. Haphazard. Disorderly. Mega Man knew Wily's patterns and habits like the back of his hand, but he never truly appreciated just how predictable the mad scientist was until now, when everything was— well— the best way to describe it was 'on fire'. Mostly on account of all the fires.

They had been waiting to hear from Wily, either bragging about his latest plot, or begging and simpering about how he'd lost control over it, but so far it had been radio silence. Mega Man did his best to stop the robots running amok and rescue civilians and put out fires, both literally and figuratively.

The last thing he needed was Bass showing up to brawl. He never knew if Bass was going to be on their side or in Wily's corner— it was 50/50— and their relationship was pretty nebulous, so Mega Man wasn't sure where he stood with Bass at any given time.

Lucky for him, Bass wordlessly went after the berserker robots instead of hassling Mega Man.

They fought separately for a while, until Bass shot down a Potton delivery drone that was in Mega Man's blindspot. He used that as an opening. "Thanks! Let me guess… Dr. Wily's latest scheme got out of hand?"

"Yeah."

"Another virus?"

Roboenza had caused advanced robots to go wild, while less complex ones simply ceased functioning. This time, everything had come to life, from smart blenders to self-driving vehicles (traditional and flying) to robotic vacuum cleaners.

"Nah." Bass hesitated, because it would help if Mega Man actually knew what was going on. But at the same time, Wily was still convinced he could regain control of the situation, in which case it was better if he left his rival in the dark.

He was still on the fence when Mega Man's face scrunched up in amusement, clapping a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. "Oh my goodness, is that… is that a commode?"

Blinking in surprise, Bass glanced over his shoulder, then slowly turned around. Shambling down the road was, in fact, a computerized auto-toilet.

"Oh for cryin' out loud!" Built for consumer use, a single shot was all that was needed to dispatch it, but Bass unleashed a series of rapid fire shots until the hapless appliance was reduced to scrap. "Does EVERYTHING need to be a robot? Sheesh!"

***

Everything being a robot was the problem, really. They fought their way through hordes of air conditioners units, portable terminals, coffee makers, automated tellers, electric bikes, water efficient washing machines…

…and robo-pets, unfortunately. Bass was not-so-secretly enjoying the mayhem, but even he seemed ashamed of having to put down the robotic beasts.

He decided not to fill Mega Man in on the details. It wasn't a virus. It was a remote-control satellite, only somehow Wily had bungled the command codes. Instead of making the world's machinery his loyal subjects, it had turned them into mindless attacking zombies.

But hours dragged on and it was obvious Wily hadn't got a handle on the situation. Even more worryingly, he hadn't heard from him since leaving the fortress.

While they fought to restore order, Dr. Light scrambled to figure out what was going on and how to fix it, Roll and Auto offered support, and Proto Man…

Proto Man showed up, having been off doing his own secretive machinations, tossed energy tanks to the other two, and while they refueled, took a moment to appraise the situation. "Why don't you take this fight to Dr. Wily?"

"I don't think Dr. Wily's in control," Mega Man replied, glancing at Bass. "I'm not sure stopping him will stop this," he gestured at the scene of destruction that lay before them.

"Couldn't hurt to try." The tone in Proto Man's voice suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

Chewing at his lip, Mega Man shot Bass another look. "What do you think?"

If nothing else, they could probably force Wily to shut off the satellite signal. On the one hand: mayhem. Bass didn't exactly want to stop. On the other hand: the whole thing was pretty ridiculous, there was no end in sight, and it was weird that Wily hadn't been in touch.

"Fine."

With that Bass teleported, and Mega Man facepalmed. "Darn it, you know I can't just beam directly into Dr. Wily's fort!"

"Hey, listen." Proto Man threw an arm across his back. "I'm sure Bass never mentioned anything, but this whole disaster ruined our plans."

"What? What plans?" He didn't like the sound of this. Particularly the ‘our’ part of it.

"We were going to catch a movie—"

"A movie? ‘We’? As in… the two of you? A movie?" Mega Man made no attempt to hide his disappointment. "Like a— like a date?"

His brother laughed. "No. Like a ‘trying to teach that idiot normal life skills'. It was going to be a group outing."

"Wh— a group— what group?" He was both relieved and increasingly confused. He'd never met any of Blues' friends. Had Bass? Did they have mutual acquaintances?

"Rock," Proto Man said firmly, turning so that they were face-to-face, planting both hands on Mega Man's shoulders. "Rock." He sounded tired. "Invite. Him. To. The. Movies."

There was an unbelievably awkward pause, and Mega Man gulped loudly.

"O-oh. Right."

***

Mega Man was surprised to find Bass loitering outside the fort. Something was wrong— Bass couldn't teleport inside either.

So they fought their way in the old fashioned way. The badniks inside were just as erratic and violent as the household appliances had been. Not knowing the cause of all this, Mega Man started joking around, making wild, increasingly preposterous guesses for what hare-brained plot Wily had this time.

"Is he trying to scare the public by turning their dishwashers and street sweepers against them, terrorizing them into surrendering and begging for mercy?"

"No."

"Let's see… he wanted to ruin Dr. Light's day because he won the Aperture Scientific Achievement award last week, and because he's a super-villain Dr. Wily didn't even qualify."

"No."

"This is an elaborate cover while he builds a third King, even though the last time—"

"Don't mention that name around me."

"Ummm… he's trying to collapse the economy, to start up a corporate conglomerate monopoly for all consumer gadgets?"

Bass groaned. "Please stop talking."

"He just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"No."

One of the weirdest things about all this was the complete and utter lack of Robot Masters. They got through the maze pretty quickly and found the massive arena where, under normal circumstances, Wily would attack with a massive war machine.

It was startlingly empty.

"Where is he?"

Mega Man did a double take. "You don't know?"

Gesturing for him to follow, Bass made his way deeper into the fortress. If Wily wasn't around, what was the point of trying to keep his plans secret? He guided Mega Man to one of the main control rooms, explaining the whole satellite hacking scheme along the way. Calling up Roll, Mega Man used the nearest terminal to create a network link that would allow Dr. Light to download everything he needed directly from Wily's computers.

They waited in silence, Mega Man not willing to leave until Dr. Light was good to go, and Bass unwilling to leave his rival unattended in the fortress.

"Sooooo," Mega Man said, trying to sound casual. "Did you catch the latest Revengers movie?"

"Nope." He then mumbled something about how he was supposed to, and scuffed his foot on the floor in frustration.

Weaving his fingers together, Mega Man offered a small, hopeful grin. "I haven't had a chance to see it yet, either. M-maybe after things are wrapped up here, we could go check it out…?"

It earned a derisive snort, but then Bass shrugged. "Sure, whatever. I don't care."

"Cool." Trying to hide the feeling of glee, he clapped his hands behind his head. "I wonder how they're going to resolve the whole Eternity Jewels story. It's been so hard avoiding spoilers!"

They were in the midst of debating if Atoman's screen adaption was better than the comic version when Roll called in with the all-clear.

"I'm going to go back and help Proto Man handle the zombie-bots until Dr. Light can shut off the satellite." Mega Man hesitated. "Did you want to…?"

"Nah, I gotta find out where Wily got to."

They went their separate ways, but in the middle of a surprisingly intense battle with a commercial impingement oven— able to launch projectiles from its conveyor belt with incredible speed— Mega Man received a text with a set of coordinates.

Catching his look, Proto Man nodded in understanding. "Go, I have this."

They led him to the grounds outside of Skull Fortress, where a desperate, shrieking Dr. Wily clung halfway up a tree, feet scrambling against the trunk, surrounded by three small robotic lawn mower units.

Bass stood in the distance, arms crossed, wicked grin on his face. "Hey," he said as Mega Man approached. "You don't think Dr. Light could shut down the signal to everyone except these guys, could he?"

"Maybe…"

Dr. Wily switched tactics from berating and cursing Bass to pleading with Mega Man.

"We really should help him."

Tilting his head, Bass tapped his chin and pretended to be lost in thought. "I dunno, I think he could use another half an hour up there."

Mega Man laughed. He should help Dr. Wily and take him to jail, he really should.

"…I think I'm going to let you two work this out," he said finally. "Uh, Leitersburg Cinema, 7:30?"

Glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes, Bass shrugged. "Assuming the projectors didn't go nuts, too."

"Oh, shoot!" Mega Man hid his face in his hands. "You're probably right."

But with all the attacks Wily had done over the years, most businesses had contingencies and bounced back pretty quickly. "Think they'll be up and running again by next Thursday?"

"I guess?"

"Fine. It's a date."

He knew that Bass didn't mean a date, rather that they had an agreed appointment…

…but he couldn't help wearing a stupid, goofy grin for the rest of the day.

-- -A/N: Special thanks to @s-uranet for suggestions and brainstorming.

[system76]

Keeping Cool with Thelio: The Secrets of Thelio’s Thermals

One of the largest considerations when developing any computer is the cooling system, also known as the thermal system. That fan that kicks on so your computer doesn’t overheat? That’s part of the thermal system. In developing our Thelio desktop line, we tackled the thermal systems with the goal of preventing thermal throttling of the components. Of course, people generally don’t want their fans spinning up a Category 5 hurricane, either. In this week’s blog, we’re taking an in-depth look at Thelio’s cooling systems to show you our process for optimizing thermals in our desktops.

For additional information, take a look at Phoronix’s tests on Thelio Major with AMD’s Threadripper 3990X CPU.

Method

In our R&D phase of building Thelio, we found heat pipes to be the most effective method of cooling the system. “Heat pipes are a fantastic way to move thermal energy,” says Carl Richell, one of the engineers involved with thermal optimization, as well as CEO of System76. Heat pipes use what is called a closed-loop phase change. Copper pipes containing liquid are set up from the processor to the heat sink. When the liquid inside the pipes heats up, it turns into a gas. The heated gas travels away from the processor toward the heat sink fins, where the energy is dissipated and the gas changes back into a liquid. The cooled liquid returns to the motherboard, and the process repeats. Heat pipes ensure that heat is rapidly drawn away from the processor.

Shortly after Thelio’s release, we received a lot of questions regarding why we chose not to use “liquid cooling”, which uses a pump to move liquid instead of phase changes.  “What I see too often is people equate liquid cooling to not using air, which is a big misconception,” Carl says. “We use heat pipes to move heat away from the processor and fans to exhaust heat out of the chassis, and liquid cooling does the exact same thing.” Liquid cooling uses fans on the radiator to remove heat, so it’s a hybrid of liquid and air rather than solely liquid.

So why use heat pipes? For starters, we found that liquid cooling pumps tend to fail, making them largely unreliable. The pumps are also louder, and liquid cooling systems still require the use of loud fans. We found heat pipes to be more effective, space-efficient, and quieter. As Principal Engineer Jeremy Soller puts it, liquid cooling is more of an effective stopgap for custom builds when you don’t have the means to manufacture with heat pipes. “If you’ve got a bunch of third party items sitting in an unrelated case, the most effective way to cool is to set up liquid cooling.” If you’re designing and manufacturing the chassis for specific components and their thermal properties, you optimize space and performance by using heat pipes.

Airflow

Of course, heat pipes alone aren’t enough to cool the entire system. Fans draw in cool external air and move heat out the exhaust port. To do this, we use 140mm fans in the bottom of the chassis and 120mm fans in the side. Large-bladed fans can move more air in a single rotation, so we can cool the chassis at lower RPMs. This results in quieter cooling at lower temperatures and higher processing power at higher temperatures.

Each desktop is designed to support its highest performing components. A single 140mm fan combined with a high-end, ducted heat-pipe CPU cooler  cools Thelio’s high-end CPUs and GPUs with extra headroom. Thelio Major’s components, including up to dual GPUs and 280-Watt processors, require additional cool air input and up to triple fan output. Additional large fans reduce system noise by requiring fewer RPMs as well. We made adjustments on Thelio massive as well to support dual CPUs. Further engineering enhancements support the thermal load produced quad GPUs present in our upcoming Thelio Mega workstation desktop.

Thelio’s thermal engineering also depends on the processor. For the release of AMD’s Threadripper 3 CPUs on Thelio Major, we added a duct and dedicated an additional cooling channel specifically for the CPU. That’s because Threadripper 3 processors (especially the 3990X) ran at a higher performance that required a higher wattage. Because it generated more heat, we needed to direct a higher volume of cool air into the chassis. Each one is unique to prevent throttling, allowing the machine to perform to its fullest potential.

Fan Curves

Q: How long did it take you to get a fan curve that you liked? A: My entire life. And I’m not there yet.

—Jeremy Soller, System76 Principal Engineer

Fans don’t always have to run at full speed to keep your system cool and performant. This is where the fan curve comes into play. The fan curve determines your fans’ RPMs at different temperature levels.

Carl’s approach towards configuring Thelio’s fan curves began with observing how the system managed thermal output of the processor while idle. “In Thelio, we don’t have to turn fans on at all because of how the chassis is engineered. The thermal capacity of the system is sufficient to absorb and dissipate the heat produced by the processor and GPU at idle and during moderate computing tasks.” In Thelio Major, however, its idle temperature is slightly warmer than in Thelio, so we run the fans at about 30 percent (virtually silent) to exhaust the heat. The sound booth we built on our factory floor helped us reduce fan noise by up to 7 decibels across the Thelio line.

Once the bottom of the fan curve is set, we look at the top level. This involves stress-testing the CPU over a longer period of time. “I’ve found that 8 minutes was enough time to determine if the thermal load can be dissipated continuously,” says Carl. “If you’re not sustaining an internal temperature beyond that point, you have to either add more air or engineer a different technique to exchange heat” The Thelio Major with Threadripper 3990X required some extra finagling to sustain a performant temperature, hence the new intake duct and exhaust port.

With Thelio, almost the entire thermal load of the system’s processor and GPU only requires about 50 percent fan speed. Only in rare cases, when the processor approaches its highest temperatures, do the fans need to accelerate past that point.

Laptops add another variable to consider when making fan curves: skin. While your computer could theoretically operate while the chassis is at high temperatures, it’s rather unpleasant when your computer roasts you like a Thanksgiving turkey. Jeremy Soller was highly involved in creating the fan curve for the Lemur Pro, and his methods will likely be used with future systems as well.

Jeremy began with power output of the processor and set it to the maximum limits and set fan speed to 100 percent. From there, he worked out what the system was capable of exhausting, which turned out to be heat generated from about 23 Watts of power. To maintain a comfortable temperature for the user, he brought that down to about 20 Watts. While the CPU could technically reach a maximum of 100 degrees Celsius, it starts throttling around 88 degrees to remain at a comfortable temperature. “My goal was to make sure that under any workload, the CPU could get 20 Watts and remain underneath 88 degrees Celsius. Anything above 20 Watts would reach that mark.”

To establish the fan curve, Jeremy measured the laptop’s thermals under workloads of a single thread, two threads, four threads, and eight threads against utilizations of 25, 50, 75, and 100 percent. This data set allowed Jeremy to look at what fan speeds work with certain temperature ranges that prevent issues for the user, including rapid fan acceleration/deceleration and hot surface temperatures. Balancing fan speed, processor performance, and thermal output is important at all levels of utilization. 

The work we put into optimizing thermals is especially apparent in higher end machines. There aren’t a lot of manufacturers out there making quad-GPU workstation systems, so the ones you do find generally don’t have a chassis designed to sustain that level of performance. What sets Thelio systems apart is that we designed them to exhaust the large quantity of heat that those higher components generate, meaning you’ll get to enjoy the full level of performance you paid for.

[weightlosesuccess]

How to Lose 2 kg in 14 Days with Dancing: A Realistic and Detailed Guide

How to Lose 2 kg in 14 Days with Dancing: A Realistic and Detailed Guide

Are you ready for an enjoyable and achievable journey to shed 2 kilograms in just 14 days through dancing? Dancing is not only a fantastic way to burn calories but also a fun and creative exercise. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore a realistic and effective approach to losing 2 kg in 14 days through dancing. I'm Emily Turner, your guide at Weight Loss Success, and I'm here to provide you with a professional and detailed plan to help you achieve your goal.

Set a Clear Goal: Your 14-Day Challenge

To kick start your 14-day challenge to lose 2 kg, it's crucial to set a clear and achievable goal. Rapid weight loss is based on creating a calorie deficit. Plan to dance for at least 30-60 minutes each day to burn calories and accelerate your journey. Exercise Plan: - Days 1-3: Begin with 30 minutes of dancing, focusing on building your stamina and learning basic dance steps. - Days 4-7: Increase the duration to 45 minutes, incorporating more complex dance moves. - Days 8-14: Maintain a 60-minute dancing routine. Experiment with different dance styles for variety.

Explore Various Dance Styles: Keep It Exciting

To make the most of your dancing experience, explore various dance styles. This will engage different muscle groups and make your journey enjoyable. Exercise Plan: - Try different dance styles like hip-hop, salsa, ballet, or Zumba. - Vary the intensity and speed of your dance routines.

Pay Attention to Your Diet

While dancing is a powerful tool for weight loss, it's essential to complement it with a healthy diet. Concentrate on consuming low-calorie, nutritious foods to support your weight loss. Diet Plan: - Breakfast: Start your day with a balanced breakfast, including whole grains, a source of protein, and fruits. - Lunch: Opt for a salad with lean protein, such as grilled chicken or tofu. - Snacks: Choose healthy options like yogurt, fruit, or a handful of nuts. - Dinner: Select a well-balanced dinner with lean protein, whole grains, and plenty of vegetables.

Stay Hydrated

Staying hydrated is vital for your weight loss journey, especially when you're dancing. Drinking enough water helps with recovery, aids in digestion, and maintains your energy levels. Diet Plan: - Aim to drink at least 8 glasses of water throughout the day.

Prioritize Quality Sleep

Quality sleep plays a significant role in your weight loss journey. Aim for 7-8 hours of restful sleep each night to support recovery and hormonal balance. Diet Plan: - Create a consistent sleep schedule and establish a relaxing bedtime routine.

Consistency is Key

Consistency is the cornerstone of any successful weight loss plan. Staying committed to your exercise and dietary routine for all 14 days is essential for reaching your goal. Personal Recommendation: - Keep a journal to track your progress and celebrate your achievements. - Don't skip any dancing sessions.

Monitor Your Progress and Beyond

Keeping a record of your dances, meals, and weight is a powerful way to stay on track. After these 14 days, consider transitioning into a more balanced and sustainable weight loss plan. Exercise Plan: - Continue dancing regularly, exploring different dance styles and routines. - Incorporate other forms of exercise for a well-rounded fitness routine. Diet Plan: - Maintain a healthy, balanced diet with occasional treats to keep your journey enjoyable. Personal Recommendations: - Consult with a healthcare professional before embarking on any weight loss program. - Remember to celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they may be.

Calorie Deficit Example:

Let's understand how the calorie deficit works in practice. To lose 2 kg of body weight, you need to create a calorie deficit of approximately 15,400 calories (since 1 kg of body weight is roughly equivalent to 7,700 calories). - Dancing can burn a significant number of calories, depending on the intensity and duration. - By following a well-balanced diet, you can aim for a calorie intake of around 1,200-1,500 calories per day (16,800-21,000 calories over 14 days). By creating this calorie deficit (calories burned through dancing - calories consumed), you can expect to lose approximately 2 kg in 14 days.

Conclusion

In conclusion, losing 2 kg in 14 days with dancing is an enjoyable and achievable goal when you follow a well-structured plan. Exploring different dance styles, maintaining a balanced diet, staying hydrated, getting quality sleep, and remaining consistent are the key elements to your success. As you embark on this exciting journey, keep in mind that dancing is not just a way to lose weight but also a creative and fun expression of yourself. It connects you with your body and brings you closer to a healthier, happier you. Your friend and guide at Weight Loss Success, Emily Turner, believes in your potential and is here to support you on your incredible journey. Warmest vibes, Emily Turner Your Friend and Guide at Weight Loss Success Read the full article

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 5

TO: .lindberg@StockholmOpera. se                      21:15 pm 2 attachments

Froken Lindberg,

No need for apologies, and there is no need for me to hunt down and behead the sobriqueted “Stanley,” (whose name is actually Mickhail) I’m sure. Be assured that he will still have a job come tomorrow and for a long time to come after that.

I don’t withhold my email address from my clients, and I do pride myself on an open-door policy – generally. Mick, however, knows that today was my first day back on the job, and he was being the overprotective security associate that I pay him quite handsomely to be.

I enclose with this email the fruit of my labours from this afternoon and this evening. The enclosure is a work schedule and Gantt chart for the full gamut of repairs to the Opera House - the sprinkler system, the drywall, the wood floor of the orchestra pit, etcetera. I have coordinated this with my subcontractors and suppliers and it is accurate. You may rely upon this to schedule your rehearsals, etc., for the next few weeks.

The second attachment is perhaps an addendum to the one you sent me. It is a cost breakdown, estimate, and proposal for the little theatre space. With the funds from the Gala, we will have the space renovated and ready to use within a year.

All that aside, I’ve reviewed your proposal, and I found it interesting to say the least. You have covered all of the terms we discussed today and then some. I would, however, like to discuss some of these terms further before we enter into anything formal; and once that is done I would like to have my legal department place their stamp upon it.

I welcome the opportunity to meet with you again regarding the little theatre space and the plans for the Gala. We can meet in my office, or we can continue these discussions over coffee at Sturekatten or a meal if you would rather. Contact me directly to arrange, please.

I am willing to provide for your every desire. Even those that, as you say, constitute the ravings of a lunatic. Which you are most definitely not.

– AGM

The soft unobtrusive ding for her email notifications sounded from her mobile. Joline flopped down on her bed, swinging her legs up. The pillow whooshed and wheezed under the weight of her head, the faint waft of her fabric softener tickling her nose. She used the softener on her pillowcases only because the smell soothed and helped her sleep.

Herr Martinsson’s email did not. Did quite the opposite, in fact.

She read over the first few paragraphs with a sense of encouragement. She owed Mick some raspberry licorice for the trouble she’d caused. She’d eagerly pounced on him in the carport after close of business. She couldn’t blame him for protecting his employer’s interests. She may have to dial back her overzealousness, but she’d never did things by half.

Jo’d pitched monthly inspections with the design staff beginning at the top of the season with a member of Martinsson Construction. The added layer of security prevented any other potential flooding sessions or bouts with the Prima Donna’s temper… well, for the dampness issue anyway. Katarina could rage against the costumers or musicians, as long and as hard as she cared to. Jo already felt better for it.

The dream for the little theatre space, all of it brilliant! She stopped short at responding to meet up with him now, that very evening. But eager Jo needed tempering. Pace yourself, Jo.

Until…

I am willing to provide for your every desire.

She read it, then stopped.

She reread it.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

Her brain melted in her head and possibly oozed out of her ear onto her freshly cleaned cases. She crossed her legs subconsciously, squeezing her thighs together.

It’d been a handful of months since her last fling, and her lady parts were beginning to feel lonely.

For the theatre, Jo… for the theatre. Nothing more than that. For-the-theatre. Nothing more than client relations. Empty or half promises to maintain a working relationship. He offered it to protect his best interests, his company, his name, and his current project.

As the tingling in her lady parts subsided from the misread tease, Jo shoved her brain back between her ears.

TO: amartinsson@martinsson.co.se                       21:30pm

Herr Martinsson-

You’re working late, I see. With impressive results, I should mention. I’m delighted by your offer and I look forward to your input. As you have work scheduled to begin this week (which is thrilling!), I’ll meet up with you for that coffee. Tomorrow? Name the time, I can accommodate any slot you have available.

I’ll make myself available to you.

Yours,

Joline Lindberg

The only thought in her head after putting her phone down was not of the theatre, or work orders, or repairs. She imagined what the G stood for in his initials, just to sate her curiosity.

Ansgar manipulated the mouse pointer over the red x in the upper left hand corner of his MacBook’s screen when his email dinged over. Curiosity, as it does, killed the cat, and so Ansgar opened the email with the time stamp of 9:30 pm from Joline Lindberg.

The last few sentences of her email appealed strongly to Ansgar’s filthy mind, his innate sense of and appreciation for innuendo. He wondered to himself, with a smirk and snigger, whether she’d meant it as such.

Hoped, maybe. No, hoped was too strong a word. Wondered. Contemplated. Contemplated those lips… that particular slot made available to me… clamped around my….

“Ah, screw it!” He groaned and scrubbed hard at his eyes, banishing the images, the very thought of it from his mind. “You are a fucking pervert, Martinsson.”

But the idea of at least a meeting over coffee… well, that was innocent enough, yes? No harm in it. After all, it was business, wasn’t it?

And so, instead of clicking the red x, he clicked ‘reply,’ rest his fingers on the keyboard, and with rapid-fire strokes, typed.

TO: j.lindberg@StockholmOpera.se                      21:47 pm

Meet me for fika at Sturekatten. Riddargatan 4. 9 am. My table is in the far north corner of the cafe. Don’t be late.

Godnatt,

AGM

Joline leaned into the final curve of her journey from home to the cafe of Herr Martinsson’s choosing, weaving around a Volkswagen Bug. She took the turning faster than the Stockholm Police approved of, but she was addicted to the speed and power of her beloved motorcycle, a 1970 Triumph. A gift from her late father made her feel closer to him whenever she rode, the smell of it, the sound of it, the sight of it, all reminded her of him and flooded her mind with memories.

The machine purred to a stop when she pulled over near the entrance of Sturekatten, blessed to have found a spot to park. The natural high she got from riding set her blood vibrating and her ears buzzing with the roar even hours afterwards. Weekends and rare days off from work found her in the leather seat adding miles to the odometer. She kicked the stand into place, turned the key for the ignition and swung her right leg over the seat behind her in a well-choreographed, often-rehearsed move.

She lifted her safety helmet straight, shaking her head and hair free underneath in her best shampoo advert mimic. How fucking cliché, she thought, hating herself for doing it. Every damn time. She’d yet to find a way of releasing her hair from the thing without looking like an auditioning model. The helmet, a bright shade of purple that Jo wanted to dye her hair to match one day (when she opened her own indy theatre house), was tucked up under her arm.

Raking one hand through her locks, Joline strolled into the café ten minutes before her call time, scurrying to the back as instructed. She felt Ansgar Martinsson’s gaze on her from the moment she crossed the threshold, piercing blue with laser precision. If she didn’t know differently, she’d feel intimidated, but she had some leverage, some pull with him.

The man rose from his seated position as she approached. “Froken Lindberg.” He held out his hand to shake in greeting.

“Herr Martinsson,” she shook his hand. “Waiting long? Am I late? Nine, yes?” She glanced around at the mostly deserted café. Weekday in the city center, many were on their first cup of coffee for the day behind their desk at work. What patrons dined at the café sat in the courtyard in the summer sun.

He gestured into a chair across from where he’s been sitting, holding the back out for her. “No, not at all. Early in fact. Thank you for meeting me.”

Joline swiveled her head, her gaze following him to his seat across from her. She made a small huff of a laugh. “I didn’t think I could say no.”

“Pardon?”

She laughed, waving her hand to match her shaking head. “No offense intended. But you have this way—effective, mind you—you say something… and I feel compelled to do it. And I do! You issue an order, and I follow.”

A crooked half-smile pulled at his lips, “That’s quite a power you’ve bestowed upon me.”

She noticed that he didn’t apologize or deny it. “Usually when someone tells me to do something, my first instinct is always no.”

“But not with me…”

“Oh! Does this mean I’m growing as a person?” She feigned shock at her self-assessment with one hand over her heart and one splayed on the tabletop. When she played out her charade in dramatics, she looked up at him with a sage look in her eye. “In all seriousness, you’re the type to go after what he wants, and you usually get it.”

He leaned forward elbows on the table like a lion standing over his kingdom. “Why would I spend my time on things I don’t want?”

“Touche!”

“Pardon the cliche,” he cocked his head, “but isn’t that a bit of the pot calling the kettle black?” He lifted the coffee pot, offering her a cup with a flick of his eyebrows. “Shall I pour?”

“Oh, yes, please,” she replied, and pushed her cup forward. She took it back after he filled it, and took a sip.

“Sugar or cream? Milk?”

“Black,” she replied.

Ansgar nodded appreciatively, making a small clicking noise with his tongue. “Black it is. Enjoy.”

“Speaking of black,” she mused, “like the pot and the kettle, huh?”

“That’s as I see it.”

“Well,” she shrugged. “I suppose that’s true. But I don’t always get the things I want. There are a lot of things I’ve wanted that I haven’t been able to get.”

“Yet,” Ansgar interjected.

“Well, yeah. Maybe.” She sipped again, eyeing him over the rim. “Maybe.”

“You get the important things,” he challenged. “Like your job, like that enviable specimen of a 1970 Triumph TR6R Tiger you have parked outside.” He indicated out the window with a flick of his gaze, at the same time noting the impressed flash of her own eyes. “And that’s what matters. It’s not that you get everything you want, it’s that you get the things that are most important to you. And sometimes, with a little skill, and a little perseverance, you can get more.”

“Skill and perseverance… but not luck?”

He scoffed. “I don’t believe in luck.”

She looked back to him from out the window. “Life lessons of the day with Professor Martinsson?”

He continued, ignoring her quip. “But you also have to realise and understand that things you want and things you get can easily be lost. They can be stolen away, right from under your nose. What matters more than getting the things you want, Froken Lindberg, is keeping them, protecting them at all costs.”

“At all costs?”

He nodded. “At all costs.” The thumb of his left hand curled in, curving around the edge of the gold band on his ring finger. “Sometimes, even then, after you’ve spared no expense, after you’ve exhausted everything… those things you want can still be torn from you.”

She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “What are you getting at, Herr Martinsson?”

“Ansgar. Please,” he leaned back in his chair, gesturing. “Call me Ansgar.”

“Then you have to call me Joline. Or Jo for short. Everyone calls me Jo. Either way is fine with me.”

He nodded, smiling. “Joline it is, then.”

“So… Ansgar,” she tasted his name again in her mouth, and finding it palatable, continued. “What are you getting at with all this stuff about getting what you want and things?”

He sighed. “All I am saying, Joline, is that you have dreams. You have ideas, and I am here to help you, to work with you to achieve those dreams. But… it’s you, ultimately, who has the power to make them a reality or not. You have to know what is important, what to fight for, what to… kill for,” he paused for emphasis, “and what to let go. You have to have common sense and know-how enough to know when to fight, and when to walk away. I can’t do that for you… and I won’t.”

“I’m sure I would mostly fight,” she puffed. “I’m not one to lie down in the road, you know.”

He grinned, wide and Cheshire-like, his blue eyes sparkling. He took up his coffee, took a sip, and crossed his arms over his chest. “And that is exactly what I hoped you’d say.”

“So,” Joline said. “What about the proposals?”

Ansgar tipped his chin toward her, his mouth at the lip of his coffee cup. “Check your phone.” He took another sip. ”You should have signed copies in your email inbox right now. I had my legal department go over everything and they’ve approved it. My e-signature is on them, waiting for yours… partner.”

Jo gave him the skeptical side eye as she sidelined her coffee for her phone. Scanting her hips in her seat, she fiddled in her pocket to free her mobile. “Partner?” she repeated, still unable to believe it entirely. “You can’t be serious!”

Enjoying her incredulity, Ansgar grinned, all straight white teeth highlighted by a ginger goatee. “See for yourself.”

Jo unlocked her phone and quickly swiped to her one new email notification. The signed proposals and agreements landed in her inbox at 9:01am and it was like Christmas in August, signed by none other than AGM himself. “Holy shit,” she breathed out on an exaggerated exhale, forgetting her business persona in her disbelief.

It was all there, in PDF format, with electronic colored post-its for her to sign at the bottom, underneath Ansgar. A checklist roster. Weekly inspections. Schedule for the work on the main stage, beginning the very next day. Contracts for fund raisers and benefits, detailing that Martinsson Construction as lead sponsor. The tentative renovation for the little theatre. And her secret wish of a to-scale model of the Opera House constructed for the Stockholm museum, Ansgar approved her commission for it!

“I could kiss you,” she enthused half-meaning it and half-distracted by all the goodness in black and white. She recovered herself with a chuckle. “I won’t – because I’m a professional – but I could! And I’d mean it!”

“That won’t be necessary.” Not necessary, but tempting. The thought shimmied itself into his head like a can-can dancer. “What can I say, Joline,” he said a bit too boldly, sitting forward in his seat. “You impressed me… your panache, your bravado, your eager-to-please… attitude for the good of all the people… in your company.”

One hand landed on her head, disbelief colored her face in a flush of excitement. “I’m so glad that I didn’t say no.” She waved her phone, display towards her companion. “I may never say no… ever!”

Oh the possibilities in that!

She went back to flipping through the documents on her phone, one by one, marveling at the brilliance of each one. “Who knew my crusading would do this?”

“I suspect,” Ansgar stated bluntly, a teasing light in those piercing blue eyes, “you did. You don’t suffer fools gladly and it seems, you don’t take no for an answer either.”

With her phone away, she put her elbow on the table and shelved her chin in her palm. “So… uh… who do I have to kill?”

“Pardon me?”

“Who do I have to kill? You were flapping your gums and going on about fighting and killing for my dreams. You just handed me my dreams… over a cup of coffee. So… who do I have to kill?”

The laugh that barked from Ansgar’s mouth caught him off guard. He wasn’t nearly prepared for her to twist what he’d said so far… but he supposed that he deserved it. He held up both of his hands in surrender, “No one. At least not today.”

Giving into the contagion of laughter, she commented, “And the CEO takes a punt at the funny.”

“How did I do?”

She muted her voice to a stage whisper, “GOOOOAAAALLLL!!!!!”

He dipped his head in a bow and his gaze seemed to undress her from the waist up. “A successful business meeting. Are you overly attached to the idea of an omelette here?”

Joline didn’t mind the perusal, she indulged in her own. Answering his question, she shook her head, offering up something else instead, “Let’s top it all off.” She dangled the keys for her Triumph in front of him. “Got a helmet?”

“In the boot of my car.”

With a tip of her head, she encouraged, “You’ve been coveting my ride since I got here. I’ve got three hours before I have to be at work. So let’s go.” She pushed the keys at him. “You drive.”

Ansgar pushed to his feet and swiped the keys in a smooth move. He dumped enough money to cover their bill (and several others in the process). He strode for the door, leading Joline with a hand at the small of her back.

Feeling lighter than the helium balloon in her belly, Jo convinced herself that she knew what the G in his initials stood for: generous. But she also knew he’d never admit it.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

To Be Held Chapter 3 - Shooting at Dorian Grey’s

Here is chapter three. I’m glad that some of you are liking this project so far. Thanks for reading thus far. 

Chapter 3 warning: Descriptions of an active shooter and profanity. 

“The unsub, or unknown subject, is male. Age 30 to 55. He is an extreme perfectionist. He holds a grudge against many possible groups including, sex workers, homosexuals, progressive groups. This unsub is escalating his time frame. This most likely means that he has a list of people that he’s killing, and he is getting close to the end of that list. We need to mobilize and start looking for possible subjects before this man finishes his list and disappears.” The officers in the room finished writing down what they needed and Chief Best stepped forward saying, “squad one and two I want you looking for offenders of sex crimes in the area, squad three I need you to look for offenders of hate crimes, and squad five I need you to look for domestic terrorists. Look for men who have attacked Planned Parenthood clinics, or progressive student organizations on campus.” All of the officers got up and moved to their respective groups and started grabbing files and clicking away on the police database. While this was happening Chief Best approached the team and said, “I know you may have leads, but there’s a lot of cases based on those descriptions. These squads could use your brains and eyes.” Morgan chuckled and replied, “Reid, that sounds like a task for you.” Before Spencer could jump up and start reading a mile a minute Gideon held up his hand. Jason thought about who needed to do what and then said, “Spencer, before you go to the squad with the most case files, I need you to read over this report on the forensic evidence from the scene. J.J. I need you and Chief Best to hold that press conference. It might keep the unsub from moving forward with their list. Now Morgan, Hotch, let’s get on those case files. 

By the time J.J. had finished the press conference with Chief Best, worked through a stack of fifty case files on domestic terrorists in Seattle, and narrowing down those case files the day had slipped away and it had grown dark outside. The police officers had changed shifts and there were less officers who worked the night shift. The team had finally narrowed down fifteen unsubs. Gideon had ordered Chinese food from a local restaurant for the team and while the five agents ate they discussed who was most likely the unsub from their final list. Meanwhile, at a bar twenty miles away Venus Rising was showing up for her first engagement of the night. 

The atmosphere in the dressing room was lively that night. Trisha leaned over to Venus and said, “So I heard the feds are on the case. I hope they pin down and strangle whatever freak got Syd.” Levi bit her lip and brushed Dr. Reid’s card, as she was fishing for her lipstick in her crossbody bag. Hill didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Trisha that she had been visited in her office by two of the agents she was talking about. Levi rationalized overthinking such a simple decision by thinking, ‘After all, Trish did almost tell a client my name once. She’s not the greatest confidant.’ Levi sighed and finally found her lipstick and turned to Trisha saying, “I’m sure they’re working really hard on it.” Another woman, who was very tall, and wore the highest of heels wrapped her arm around Levi’s shoulders and said seductively to both Hill and Trisha, “And if the FBI can’t find this freak, we’ll do it ourselves. Afterall we are a couple of bad bitches.” The Amazonian sized women had spoken loud enough that the four other women in the room had heard the statement. There was silence for a moment in the small room, and then everyone burst out laughing. Levi was laughing so hard that she had a hard time breathing, but finally had enough air in her lungs to reply, “Kate, although I love your work voice, it does not have the same impact while making threatening statements.” The other escorts, Evolynn Star, Lor, Vixxen Wiccan, and Starlight laughed at Levi’s retort. Levi had been working with this group of escort for a year and they were all very kind women who were just trying to make ends meet. The friendly atmosphere was necessary for their line of work. Although Kate was trying to lighten the mood before their first jobs of the evening, she could see that after the laughter had ceased the same sad looks came over them all. Grief at the death of the friend. Before Levi could think to much more about Sdyney’s murder Lor said, “It’s time to make some money girls,” Levi took a quick look at her phone and saw the time 9:00 P.M., quickly checked her makeup and wig and got up and walked out of the changing room and into the luxury bar. Her normal client was waiting for her at a table. 

After the first clients had left at 11:00 the escorts had a thirty minute break between their next engagements. Vixxen was telling Venus about how her brother was planning his engagement to his girlfriend. Levi had a few questions and asked, “Where is he planning on making the proposal?” Vixxen replied excitedly, “Disneyland. I know it’s cheesy, but that’s where they had their first date. I’m so excited for him.” Levi smiled and said, “I don’t think that’s cheesy at all. It sounds very romantic.” Vixxen was about to tell Levi about all of the minor details but was cut off by Kate who asked Levi, “I’m going out back for a smoke. Do you want one?” The professor responded, “You know I gave up smoking Kate. But I’ll stand outside with you if you like.” Kate nodded. Hill got up and accompanied her to the back alley, right outside of the bar. All the escorts had been more cautious after the murder. No one wanted to go out by themselves and it was understandable why. Kate took a deep drag of the cigarette and blew the noxious smoke into the cool night air. Levi watched as Kate paced up and down the alley, a habit the tall women had when she was stressed. As Kate was walking back in Levi’s direction a screeching sound echoed down the alleyway. Before the two women could react a van came racing down the narrow road. Kate jumped to the side of the alley and made a splash as she fell into a puddle. As the van neared Kate the passenger side door opened and a figure in black reached out and grabbed at the downed woman. The van had slowed and Kate struggled to fend off her assailant, who was attempting to get her in the van. Venus saw all of this and shouted as loudly as she could, “FIRE!” Levi ran toward the masked figures leaning outside of the van door. The professor got nicked on the shin as the open van door passed by her. She grabbed onto Kate and pulled as hard she could. She grunted with the effort she put in. Although it felt like an eternity, it only took ten seconds for the other escorts to come out to the alley. They all started screaming once they saw what was happening. Trisha ran toward the van while Lor ran inside to get help from Kyle the bouncer. Once the figure in the van knew they had been seen the car quickly picked up speed. Kate and Levi got dragged about two feet before they were let go. Before the van sped out onto the main street, which was only three feet away at that point, the figure leaning out the door pulled out a gun and shot in the escorts directions. 

Spencer rubbed his eyes. His head was so full of victims and unsubs and floating pieces of information. The doctor startled when his phone rang. He pulled the device and didn’t recognize the number. He clicked the accept button and put it to his ear saying, “Dr. Reid here.” The rest of the team looked at the genius and wondered why he was getting called so late at night. His face paled to a whiter shade and he said, “Stay where you are, are the police on the way?” The rest of the team was on the edge of their seats and Morgan, who had very astute hearing could hear a shaky, “yes,’ on the other end of the line. Reid said, “I’m not my way now.” Before closing his phone and standing, the young man’s joints were angry at the rapid change of position. Spencer looked at the team and said, “Professor Hill and another escort were almost kidnapped during a break between clients. One of the escorts is shot.” The whole team jumped at this and was out the door following Spencer to the cars. Hotchern shouted at Reid, “What club are we going to?” Spencer shouted back, “Dorian Grey’s, on the north side of town.” Three car doors slammed and the team raced toward the scene. 

As the team rolled up to the bar, they could see the lights of police cars and an ambulance at the scene. Hotchner took point and as the team unloaded from the cars said, “Elle, J.J. go talk to the EMT’s and the shooting victim if she’s still here. Get her information so we can follow up later tonight. Ried and Gideon go talk to Ms. Hill, and Morgan and I will talk to the witnesses at the bar.” The teams split up and moved in the direction they needed to go to accomplish their task. Spencer and Jason moved into the bar looking for Levi. Spencer noticed a group of officers standing next to an area that was curtained off from the rest of the bar and pointed it out to Gideon. They walked toward the area and approached one of the officers. Gideon asked one of the police force, “Is Ms. Hill in there?” The officer nodded and said, “Yes, we’ve just taken a statement from her.” Jason nodded, and Spencer pulled out his badge to show that they were allowed in to see her. “Please send us a copy of your report,” said Spencer as he and Jason walked through the curtain. Levi was sitting on the ground. She was holding her legs to her chest. Gideon could see she was shaking, probably from shock. However she could just be cold, afterall she wasn’t wearing anything apart from some lingerie and a mesh corset. She was talking to other women who also dressed scantily. The other two women were seated with criss crossed legs speaking encouraging words to the girl in shock. Reid caught one of the statements as, “Levi, you did everything you could. Kate’s probably alive because of you.” Gideon cleared his throat and all of the ladies heads whipped in his and Spencer’s direction. Spencer, who was still holding his badge, presented it two the other two women. Lor and Trisha stood up and Lor said, “We’ll give you a moment alone. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.” Lor looked from Hill to Gideon and both girls brushed past the two men. As they left Trisha pulled the long wig she wore off her head and leaned in saying something unheard to Lor. 

Spencer sat down on the ground across from Levi, while Gideon pulled one of the chairs from the wall and sat down with a light huff. Levi looked at Spencer and said, “Hello again Dr. Reid.” She attempted to sound calm, but the strain in her voice was apparent. She looked up to Jason. Spencer saw Levi looking at Gideon and quickly said, “Um, this is agent Gideon. He’s on the team with me.” Hill nodded and said haltingly, “I-it’s nice to meet you agent Gideon.” “It’s nice to meet you too Professor Hill. Are you cold?” Gideon asked. He always tried to make people feel comfortable with him. And with themselves. If he was going to force a person to relive a traumatic event, he at least wanted to make them feel comfortable with him. She replied, “Um. i-i don’t know.” Spencer had already realized she was in shock and was upset that the EMT’s had just let her back into the building without noticing her mental distress. He slipped off the green sweater he was wearing and leaned forward, slipping it over her shoulder. The Dr. said, “Here, take this,” while he did so. Levi puller the sweater tighter over her shoulders and felt the warmth from it sink into her body. She took a breath and relaxed, just a little for the first time that evening. Gideon noticed the relaxation and brought up the main topic that they needed to speak about, saying, “If you’re able, would you come outside to the alley with us and tell us what happened tonight. Just walk us through it.” Levi bit her lip and asked, “Do we have to talk out there?” Spencer spoke up saying, “It’s shown in 73% of studies that witnesses of a crime can remember the details better if they’re in the place that the crime took place.” Levi shifted her legs under her and said, “Alright.” Spencer quickly stood and offered his hand out to her which she took and stood up. Spencer now noticed that she had a tattoo of a sword down the length of her left leg. When he had offered his jacket up to her he had noticed her arms and torsoed were permanently inked, a fact that he had been unaware of during his visit to her office, because at that time she was wearing more consertative clothes. “The door that Kate and I left through was through the dressing room.” Levi said, as she attempted to reach the top of the door frame that was farther back in the room. She was very close to reaching it top of the frame, but even with high heels on she was not able to get her fingers above the jamb. Spencer, however, easily skimmed over the lip of the door and felt the edges of a cold metal key. He grabbed it and handed it to Levi. “Thank you,” she said as she slid the key into the lock of the door and turned the key. Before she opened the door she knocked and asked, “Evolynn, Jane, Star, are you in there, decent?” There was a muffled response through the door, “Yeah, Levi, I’m in here. I’m dressed; you can come in.” Levi turned the knob to the door and entered the room, Spencer and Gideon followed. Star was pulling her purse over her shoulder and smiled at Levi when she came in. Star went up to her and said, “Hey’ I’m headed out for the night. Call me if you need anything. See ya tomorrow.” “Thanks, you’re the best. Would you put the key back?” Levi said, holding out the key to the room. Star smiled and laughed and replied, “Yeah of course shorty.” At this response Levi rolled her eyes and scoffed, while dropping the key into her friends hand. After Star had left the room the trio walked out the door into the alley. 

While Spencer and Gideon were checking up on Levi, Elle and J.J. ran toward the ambulance. J.J. began talking to the EMT’s immeantly, while Elle flashed her badge to one of the ambulance drivers and then walked up to the open ambulance doors. Inside sat Kate. A white bandage was wrapped around her upper right arm, and she was wrapped in an orange shock blanket. As Elle approached her she said, “Hello Kate, my name is Elle Greenaway, and I’m an agent with the FBI.” Kate pulled the blanket closer to her body and looked at Elle for a moment and said, “Do you want me to repeat my statement Elle?” The FBI agent was taken aback by Kate’s tone, but before she could say anything Kate continued, “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. I don’t have money to pay for an operation to take this fucking bullet out of my arm and I hate all my clients. So I don’t mean to take that out on you, I just want a hard drink and a nap.” Elle felt bad for what Kate was going through, but she needed as much of the information while it was still fresh in the escorts mind. Therefore Greenaway replied, “I’ll make this quick as possible. I really need to know what you remember about the person that tried to pull you inside the van. Kate replied dryly, “I can tell you that they weren’t very strong. They were really struggling to pull me into that car. And then Levi, who doesn’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds comes in like a badass and with her help they dropped us. They wore a facemask and had really blue eyes. Like piercing blue eyes.” Kate shrugged at the image Then continued, “That’s really all I can think of. Except, there was a weird smell in the van, like iron or something.” “That’s very useful information. Thank you Kate,” Elle said. Just as agent Greenaway had finished getting Kate’s information, J.J. called out to her saying, “Elle, we need to get going. The ambulance needs to get to the hospital.” Elle replied, “Yeah, I’m coming.” The anget jumped out of the ambulance and the EMT’s shut the back doors, jumped into the cab and turned on the lights and sirens. As the vehicle raced away the only thing Elle could think about was how this event was going to hurt Kate in the long run. 

Inside the bar Derek and Hotchner were talking to the owner of Dorian Grey’s. He was a middle aged balding man and he was very agreeable. Derek had just asked, “So, Mr. Thomas, have you noticed any strange activity in the area over the past few weeks? For example have you had to throw out clients, specifically those who hire the women who work here?” Mr. Thomas replied, “I haven’t noticed anything out of the usual. At least not in the last three weeks. There are always a few guys who get too drunk, or are assholes and they think they can do whatever they want with the escorts, but often one of the ladies will come up to me and tell me about it, and I kick that customer out.” Hotchner followed up the man’s statement by saying, “Would you be willing to show us the back alley and the security measures you have in place for the women?”  Thomas said of course and led the agents out to the alley way. As they stepped into the cool air, the owner stated, “This building was built in the 1920’s. At the time it was a bank and it was on the outskirts of town. The richer members of the town would use this bank because it was less likely to draw attention to them and their wealth. In the 50’s and 60’s business moved to the center of town and this place was left abandoned. A couple of other businesses tried to use this land, the last of which was a restaurant. When I bought the building I tried to bring back some of that former history. I renovated the property and added this alley that connects to the road ten years ago.” After hearing this Derek understood a bit more about the history of the place. He had thought, ‘This place is so far out of town, why would it be a destination?’ The owner continued, “When we hired more staff we needed to add a place for them to enter through the back, thus this alley was paved.” The man showed Morgan and Hotch the back door and the security camera that were installed there. Thomas said, “Only the employees and I have the keys to this back door. I’ve got the footage of this camera and the camera in the bar in my office.” Hotchner replied, “We need to see that footage Mr. Thomas.” Thomas nodded and responded, “Of course follow me.” As they walked back toward the door it swung open and Reid, Gideon and Levi walked out. Derek took a moment to look over the professor that Dr. Reid had talked about and was impressed. He thought she was very pretty, a fact that he would not say out loud; he also noticed that she was wearing Reid’s sweater, a fact he stored away for later use. 

Gideon, Spencer and Levi took the place of Mr. Thomas, Aaron, and Morgan. The professor turned to Reid and said, “I got to work at 8: 45 and worked my first job from 9: 00 to 10: 30. At 10: 30 we all get a thirty minute break between clients. Well, Kate wanted to have a smoke so I went out here with her.” Before she continued her story Spencer asked the clarifying question, “Around what time was this?” Levi thought for a moment and replied, “around 10: 40. Kate was walking up and down the road. As she was walking back toward me to go back inside I could hear a car’s tires nearby. And then a black van came rushing down the street. Someone tried to grab Kate out of the road and into the cab. I screamed something and ran toward her to help.” Ms. Hill paused for a moment reliving the scene. She pictured running toward the van. It was speeding forward. The licence plate came into view and she remembered a few sequences on the plate. Gideon spoke up saying calmly, “Ms. Hill, are you alright.” The girl stammered out, “The p-plate, i’ve got some numbers.” Reid quickly pulled out his legal pad and a pen and wrote down the sequence as she said, “It’s, it’s GH73 and there’s a 2 in there somewhere.” “That’s amazing,” Reid said, while lowering the paper. Hill continued, “I grabbed onto Kate and then the van sped up. They dropped us when we were by the garbage bins. She walked toward the containers she was talking about. She leaned down and picked up a red high heel that belonged to Kate. The girl brushed the bandage on her left left, which had been bruised badly while being dragged down the road at 40MPH. She stood up and held the shoe protectively to her chest for a minute. After a few seconds in this position a wave of nausea passed over her and she bent down and vomited on the pavement. She dry heaved for a moment after the contents of her stomach had landed unceremoniously on the asphalt. Reid and Gidoen rushed the four feet of distance to her. Jason leaned down and extended his hand. Levi grabbed it and stood upright feeling dizzy. Spencer reached into his pocket and found a clean tissue and handed it to the professor. She wiped the outside of her mouth and crumpled the tissue in her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, not wanting to make eye contact with either man. Gideon placed a reassuring hand behind her back and said, “There’s no need to apologize, you’ve been through something very frightening tonight. Let’s go back inside, out of the cold.” The older man guided the girl back to the door. When they got inside Jason helped Venus into a chair by the bar. Spencer went behind the bar and grabbed a glass and filled it from the sink. The genius handed it to Levi saying, “Here you go.” The woman slid her hand through her short hair. As she did this she wondered when she had taken off the shoulder length black wig. She didn’t remember taking it off. She pushed the thought aside and took a drink of the water. Once the acrid taste of bile was gone she said, “Thank you Dr. Reid.” Unknown to either Reid or Hill, Derek was on the other side of the room observing them. Spencer stepped over when Gideon came to be by Levi. Jason crouched down to be at eye level with her. He said, “Ms. Hill, I’ve called in a protective detail for you and Ms, Kingsley. When you’re ready to leave just tell the officer over there that you want to go home. They can keep you safe.” Levi felt relieved that Kate was going to be looked after, she was also grateful that she could at least attempt to sleep tonight. She processed the information. Gideon continued the conversation by saying, “I’m going to ask you to do something that may be difficult Ms. Hill. I need you to continue living like nothing happened tonight, Can you do that for me?” Levi took a deep breath and nodded yes. 

The team had bagged all the evidence, interviewed the witnesses, acquired the footage from the security cameras and made sure the police would wrap up everything else that needed to happen at the scene. It was 1:30 A.M. and just now were they headed back to their hotel. Derek, Reid and Elle were in the same car. Derek turned to look at Spencer who was in the back seat and said, “Nice move with the sweater Reid, I see you’re upping your game.” Spencer looked confused until he got the implication and restored, “Uh, she was in shock. And she was probably cold, you saw her.” Reid didn’t comment on Levi’s clothing that night, but Derek did say, “You bet I did.” Reid rolled his eyes and scoffed, waiting for the awkwardness to leave the car. At the hotel each member of the team headed to their rooms. They all had tasks to finish as soon as possible. As the youngest member of the team was unlocking his room Gideon walked up to him and said, “You did good tonight Spencer.” Reid turned, surprised at the compliment. He replied, “Do you think it’s a good idea to just let Hill keep living normally?” Gideon’s face went dark and he replied, “Until Garcia gets us some information on those plates, we don’t have much. It’s likely the Ms. Hill will be targeted next.” The realization hit Spencer suddenly and he said harsher than he ment, “You’re using her as bait!” Gideon could only respond with, “Let’s bag this son of a bitch before he gets a chance.” Spencer folded his arms over his chest and looked at his boss, not knowing how to feel about putting an innocent person’s life on the line for this case. Gideon finalized the conversation by saying, “I want you to stay with the young professor tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll see more than officer Anderson, if there is a threat on her life.” Spencer wanted to say something but stopped himself. Instead he said, “Alright. Goodnight.” The genius turned and opened his door, switched on the light and closed the door. Gideon moved down the hall to his own room. This case was taking a toll on Spencer and he knew it. He just didn’t know why yet.

[theflenser]

DEATH AND DISPLACEMENT

Sometimes I wonder how many hours, in total, I've spent working at degrading low level jobs that mean absolutely nothing to me or my life. Thousands, certainly. Hundreds of thousands? Perhaps.  

Every night around 7PM I park my piece of shit van about eight blocks from my piece of shit job and walk beneath the I-35 overpass, dragging my feet along the sidewalk as I hear the din from the nightclubs grow louder, the slurring roar of inebriation and weak-willed lust trickling into my head like a toxic gas, reminding me that although I've been sober for over seven years, my life still doesn't amount to much more than a sad, tired, pathetic joke. A grimy quarter marinating at the bottom of a plastic cup half full of stale, cheap beer. Before I reach the overpass, on the corner of Holly Street and San Marcos Street, there is a telephone pole covered with rusted staples and nail heads that were once used to hold up posters and signs, long since forgotten and weathered away. Whenever I pass this telephone pole, I always stop and say a little mantra to myself that helps me to feel a little less anxious and brings a moment of peaceful awareness to my mind. After I finish the mantra I knock three times on the telephone poll and then continue walking. It's an unusual habit, but I've been doing it for years, and the few times where I've forgotten to do it I feel like I later paid some kind of inner emotional toll for the oversight. As such, I try to never forget.  

I tell people I'm a "bouncer" because it sounds slightly more romantic and dangerous than the truth. The truth is that I'm a door jockey...greeting, carding, and granting entry to a neverending onslaught of shamelessly entitled little bags of piss and puke that frequent the strip where I work. Rainey Street...once a neglected row of condemned houses and crack dens, now since converted into an upscale alcoholic playland for inbred oil money academics and closeted country club racists. I've lost count of how many times I've fantasized about hurting these people...about killing these people....but instead I just keep showing up, clocking in, and cleaning up after them. Ten dollars an hour and a lifetime supply of resentment and self loathing. I realize that I'm no better than them. In fact, I know that I am much worse. I choose to be here, wallowing in my bile of regret, disappointment, and disgust. I don't deserve to live any more than they do. But unlike them, I have no illusions as to what I am.  

One Sunday night, around 3:30 AM, I clock out and start walking the eight blocks back to my van. There aren't many people out at this hour, save for other sevice industry losers like myself, the occasional gaggle of die hard street drunks, and the faceless unfortunates who have no homes to return to. As I near the overpass, I see a woman in a car parked along the feeder road lean her head out the drivers side window and spew vomit down the side of her car door and over the curb. I hear her start the engine and watch as she pulls out into the road and speeds off without bothering to turn her headlights on. I shake my head as I cross the street and step beneath the overpass, which is well lit and lined on either side with tents and makeshift cardboard shelters. There is no movement and no sound audible above the ambient white hum of intermittent traffic passing by above me. As I am about to step beneath the overhead gap that separates the north and southbound lanes, I hear a sound...no, I feel a sound unlike anything I have ever experienced before or since. The only way I can describe it is to say that it sounded as though the sky were being torn open, as though something great and unimaginable was trying to claw its way into our reality from some unknown dimension. It is absolutely terrifying, and my first instinct is to turn around and start running, even though I have no idea what's happening. I only make it a few paces before I return to my senses, and as the sound becomes less deafening I hear it morph from an immense cacophony into something more recognizable, the sound of metal on metal, the crunching of steel and broken glass. I turn around and look up through the gap between the lanes of the highway and see that the night sky has been partially blotted out by rectangular paneling. I see the shape of a wheel spinning freely in the air, connected to the paneling, but disconnected from it's purpose. I smell smoke and gasoline and realize that I am looking up at the back end of an overturned semi truck.

I stand there for a moment, looking up in disbelief. I hear some cursing and grunting from within one or more of the makeshift shelters and then everything is silent. I continue on, heading towards the other side of the overpass to where my van is parked. When I reach the other side of the interstate I turn around and look up. I can see the wreckage of the semi and at least one other vehicle. There is dark smoke curling upwards into the sky. All of a sudden I hear the faint sound of a baby crying.  

Without thinking about it, I sprint up the side of the gravel embankment and pull myself over the guard rail and onto the shoulder of the highway where the wreck is. The semi truck is both completely jackknifed and toppled over, the rear portion of the tractor trailer stretching horizontally across the space between the two lanes. There is no discernible movement from within the cab. The other vehicle is practically unrecognizable, though it appears to have been some sort of luxury sedan. The back half of it has been completely crushed and the front end is a tangle of impossible angles and certain death. The windshield, somehow still intact, is now a nearly opaque white map of cracks and serpentine splintering, the drivers side half of it folded outwards like a partially open book. The vehicle is filled with blackish smoke, and it's clear that the sound of the crying is coming from within what is left of the car. About ten feet away, lying amid the rubble of glass and debris, is the shape of a man lying on his side. My heart freezes as I see movement and realize that he is still alive. I walk towards him and I can see that he is desperately trying to crawl back towards the vehicle and the sound of the crying baby. It's at this moment that I become aware of something incredibly strange. I look north towards the direction of downtown, and then turn my head in the opposite direction, looking southward to where the highway stretches away from the city. Looking in both directions I can see that there are no vehicles approaching from either direction. The highway is completely deserted. Even at this hour that seems impossible, especially this close to downtown. It's as though the world has fallen asleep, and the only things left awake are me, this man, and the baby crying from within the automobile behind me. As soon as this thought enters my mind I hear the crying suddenly choke up and cease. Everything is silent again. I look down at the man and see his face is covered with blood. One of his legs appears to be completely destroyed, the pant leg a flattened mound of blood and sinew. There is a bone jutting out through the front of his shirt near his throat, possibly a rib or a collarbone. I'm no doctor so I can't say for sure which. The man appears to have no awareness of what is happening, yet he continues to try and crawl towards the vehicle, pulling himself an inch at a time with one arm, his ruined leg and torso leaving a trail of blood behind him. All at once I recognize the man. He's a regular at the bar where I work. I've seen him there many times over the years, sometimes with his wife, sometimes with other women, and sometimes alone. When he's there alone he always stands in the same spot, drink clutched in his hand, scanning the room for available females like a hawk surveying a field for hapless mice and squirrels. He's just one of countless others who follow this same pattern. That's the nature of the environment.  

I kneel down next to him and lean in close to his ear. I can smell a mixture of blood and booze wafting up from his open mouth. One of his eyes is swollen shut and there are shards of glass stuck into his cheek and forehead.

"Stop it. Stop it right now." I speak directly into his ear. "It's over. Your baby is dead, and so are you." I don't feel pity for this man, or contempt. I don't feel anything at all. "What were you doing driving around drunk at four in the morning with your baby in the car?"  

It's clear that he can't hear me. He stretches out his arm again to try and pull himself closer to the wreckage and I put my foot down on his hand.  

"I said stop it, motherfucker."  

Suddenly his upper body lurches forward and a mixture of blood and yellow fluid dribbles out of his mouth onto the concrete. There is a gargling sound coming from his throat. I slide my boot under his shoulder and flip him over onto his back. The gargling sound intensifies. From the corner of my eye I see the blue and red strobing of police cruisers heading towards us on the feeder road from the direction of the courthouse on 7th street. The world appears to have woken back up. I look down at the man's face and take a deep breath. The gargling has stopped and he appears to breathing again. I realize that it's possible he might actually live.  

In one rapid, fluid motion I raise up my boot about knee high and bring it back down as hard as I can against his throat. I feel it collapse between my heel and the pavement. Blood and fluid shoot up from his mouth directly into my face and across the lens of my glasses. I lick my lips and taste gin and iron. I take one last look at the cab of the semi and what's left of the sedan. No movement. No sound. I turn around and dart back down the embankment towards Holly street where my van is parked. When I get to the corner of Holly and San Marcos I stop at the telephone pole and clean my glasses with my shirt. I look up towards the moon and recite the mantra:

"I love you God. Thank you for everything. Please keep me sober for the rest of my life. Until Death, God, keep me sober. I love you God. Thank you for everything."

I knock three times on the telephone pole, walk the rest of the way to my van and drive straight home, where I sleep more soundly than I have in years.  

[defiblover27]

Head On

Chloe is a cross country runner and often goes on long runs when the sun is setting due to it being cooler.  She is a 20 year old 5 foot 4 with blonde hair and slender build.  When she was lacing up her shoes and putting her hair in a ponytail she had no idea that it was the last time she would perform these actions.  She left her house as the sun was setting and set out on her three mile run.  By the time she was two miles into her run the sun was already set and it was growing dark.  Suddenly a car came over a hill and came speeding towards her.  Before she could jump out of the way she was being thrown by the impact of the car.  She now found herself lying on the concrete in shock.  She tried to move her legs and get up but each movement caused her more pain.  A man who had just arrived home heard the prolonged honking of a car horn and went to investigate.  What he saw when he opened his door was something out of a nightmare.  There was a car crashed into a tree and a woman lying on the road not far from the car.  He called 911 as quickly as he could and begged them to hurry.

He approached the woman who was lying in a puddle of her own blood.  She tried to ask him for help but she could barely make a sound.  Chloe stared at him in fear.  “Please, I don’t want to die, please help me.”  The man was still in shock he tried to reassure her and then went to see if the driver was alright.  There was a 30 year old man behind the wheel and unconscious from the crash.  In a matter of seconds a police officer arrived on scene and first assessed Chloe.  “Ma’am I’m with the police department.  Can you tell me your name and where you are?”  Chloe was still struggling to breathe “Chloe... I.. I don’t know what happened.  Please, save me.”  The police officer could see a large gash in her abdomen and her right leg was bent behind her.  He grabbed the medical bag from his trunk and applied pressure to the wound on her stomach.  All the while his partner was attending to the driver of the vehicle. After banging on the window several times the man awoke. Dazed and confused he stumbled out of the vehicle and dropped a bottle of whiskey. The police officer made sure he wasn't injured before placing him in handcuffs. He was placed in the back of the police car and waited as the two police officers tried to save Chloe.   

Sirens in the distance got louder as an ambulance arrived on scene.  Sara rushed to Chloe and did a preliminary assessment as Dave retrieved all the bags from the back.  “My names Sara, I’m a paramedic, can you tell me how old you are please?”  Sara said in a calm voice.  “20, I’m 20 years old.  Please I don’t want to die.”  Chloe pleaded.  “Don’t worry we are going to help you sweetheart.”  Dave put the bags next to Chloe and retrieved the shears and began cutting away the tank top she was wearing.  He then cut off the athletic shorts to leave her only in a bright pink sports bra and black compression shorts.  Once the leads were attached the monitor whined to life.  Sara started an oxygen mask for Chloe and secured it to her with the green strap.  “We’re going to have to move your leg.  It’s going to hurt so I’m giving you something for the pain.”  Sara placed an IV in her right arm and gave her pain killers directly into the drip.  Sara grabbed her lower leg and Dave kept her hips in place as they slowly straightened it out from behind her.  Chloe screamed in pain as they moved it.  Once it was straight they had to put a orange brace wrapped around her entire leg.  Chloe was still in excruciating pain and the monitors showed an erratic heart rate.  They placed a blue and yellow C-collar around her neck before placing her onto the backboard.  Dave took the two orange blocks and secured her head to the board to make sure she couldn't move at all.The placed her on the gurney and loaded her up in the ambulance.  One of the police officers decided to ride with Sara in the back while the other stayed behind and investigated the accident. 

Chloe was still moaning in pain as the journey to the hospital began.  Sara was doing her best to stabilize her patient and keep her comfortable.  She knew she couldn't give her any more pain killers since she needed to be awake and alert during a trauma accident.  Despite being on an oxygen mask her O2 stats began to drop and she began fading in and out of consciousness.  Sara attempted to keep her awake and put the oxygen mask to the side and began bagging her with the ambu bag.  She squeezed the blue bulb every 3 seconds.  With each hit of air it let out a faint wheezing noise.  Chloe was not completely unconscious and her stats began to drop further.  Sara began to wonder why her O2 stats were still dropping and decided to intubate her.  She grabbed the largynscope from the drawer and opened up her mouth.  She slid the metal blade down her throat and intubated Chloe in a matter of seconds.  She secured it with a blue tube holder.  The police officer sat off to the side waiting for any orders.   “Shit.  She’s in V-fib”  The green line on the monitor started bouncing around as Chloe’s heart went out of normal rythm.  “Take this and squeeze it every three seconds” Sara directed the officer.  Sara took the shears from her pocket and cut away her sports bra revealing her C cup breasts.  She placed her hands inbetween her breasts and started CPR.  Each compression caused her entire body to shake except her leg that was in a brace.  After thirty compressions she placed two orange gel pads on her nude chest and charged the defib unit.  “Charging to 200.  Stand clear.”  The unit whined to life, Sara removed the two paddles and placed them on the gel pads.  The alarm went off indicating it was charged and Sara pressed the button to discharge the paddles.  Chloe shook on the gurney as the electricity coursed through her chest.  The monitor spiked for a second and then returned to V-fib.  Sara set the defib unit to 300 joules and resumed compressions.  Sara knew that a traumatic cardiac arrest with injuries like Chloe were usually fatal.  Once the unit was charged she swung the paddles onto her chest again and shocked her.  Chloe’s chest came off of the gurney a little bit more this time from the increased voltage.  The heart monitor showed asystole as Sara resumed CPR.  The police officer was clearly in shock as he was a rookie and had never seen such a young patient being resused.  He continued to do his task of providing her with air.  Sara pushed a round of epi into Chloe as she tried all she could to save this young girls life.  Each compression caused Chloe’s belly to extend slightly and her breasts to shake.  After another minute of CPR Chloe converted back to V-fib as Sara charged the paddles for the third time.  “Charging to 360, stand clear, shocking” a low thud was heard as Chloe was shocked and bounced on the gurney.  Sara stared at the monitor.  Finally it showed a regular heart rhythm.  “There you go kid.  Stay with us we’re almost there.”  She hung another bag of fluids as the officer continued ventilation.

The ambulance whipped around into the trauma bay as the doors swung open revealing two nurses that were waiting for their arrival.  The loaded up the monitor and the IV and then rolled her out of the ambulance.  The ER department was bustling with noise as they rolled her down the hallway.  They took her into the Trauma unit where the medical was waiting.  “20 year old female struck by a car going at an unknown speed. Laceration to the abdomen and an open fracture on the right leg.  She went into cardiac arrest en route.  Currently responding to pain stimuli.”  Dave informed the team as he removed the straps from the gurney in order to move her to the bed.  “Let’s hook her up to our monitors, lets hang a bag of O neg and get x-ray in here stat.”  Dr Micheal began barking out orders.  His team worked in almost silence as they each knew their own roles. One nurse took over bagging, another removed all of her clothing so she was nude with only her bright pink socks on.  They removed the bloody clothes that remained and threw them into a hazard bag.  Dr. Micheal moved back the bandages they had put on her abdomen to assess the damage.  “Looks like she may have some internal injuries, also concerned about blunt force trauma to the head and chest.”  As the x-ray technician readied himself the rest of the team backed away or put on a vest to protect themselves.  They moved the large machine over the bed and took images of both her chest and leg to get an inside view of the skeletal damage.  In a matter of minutes they put up the images on the light board on the wall.  Her right leg was completely shattered in three places and she had multiple broken ribs.  Dr. Micheal took his stethoscope and listened to Chloe’s lungs and heart.  “Diminished breath sounds on the right side, she has a collapsed lung.  Get me a chest tube kit.”  A nurse ripped open the kit as Dr. Micheal squirted betadine all over the right side of her chest.  He took the scalpel and made the first incision as blood started to rush out of her chest.  He inserted the tube and controlled the bleeding.  A large amount of blood began pouring out of the chest tube and Dr. Micheal immediately knew there was an issue.  “Start the rapid blood transfusion protocol” A nurse hung two more bags of blood as the team watched Chloe deteriorate before their eyes.  The heart monitor began showing an erratic heart rhythm and quickly went into V-fib.  Without anyone asking a nurse already started chest compressions and another readied the defibrillator.  With each compression Chloe’s breasts rocked from side to side and her belly extended.  A nurse put on two new gel pads as they had disposed of the ones Sara had used.  “Charge to 300, everyone prepare to shock”  As the unit sounded off the nurse backed away and Dr. Micheal placed the paddles on her chest.  “Shocking” Chloe jolted off the table momentarily before crashing back down.  V-fib stayed on the monitor as the nurse resumed chest compressions.  Another set of medications were pushed into Chloe’s IV.  Wires and tubes covered Chloe’s naked body as the team did everything they could to save her life.  “Charge again to 360″ the defib unit whined to life, he swung the paddles around “Clear!” he discharged the unit as she shook on the bed.  “Still V-fib start CPR again, push another unit of epi. What’s her down time?” Dr. Micheal commanded the room. “4 minutes” the charge nurse replied as she took down notes on all the resuscitation efforts.  The floor had already become littered with empty medicine boxes and the large amount of blood Chloe had loss.  A strong male doctor took over CPR and each compression made her entire body shake.  The only part of Chloe that didn’t move during the procedures were here head and right leg in the brace.  The defibrillator sounded off again indicating it was charged.  The paddles were placed back on her nude chest and shocked as her bloodied body jumped off the table.  The resus team hated what happened next as Chloe’s heart completely gave out and showed asystole on the monitor.  The screeching of the flat-line sent a chill throughout the room.  A young woman in peak physical condition was covered in blood and wires as her life gave out.  CPR was continued for another 6 minutes without any change in rhythm.  Dr. Micheal took his pen light and shined it into Chloe’s blue eyes.  “Pupils sluggish but still reactive.”  A ultrasound as brought in and used to find any cardiac activity.  The search showed that her heart wasn’t active at all but there was a large amount of blood surrounding it.  “I need a cardiac needle”  A nurse rummaged through the crash cart and gave the large needle to Dr. Micheal.  He placed the needle just between her breasts and directly to her heart.  He slowly pulled back the plunger as the needle filled with blood.  After draining the blood around her heart they push another round of meds and continued CPR.  Chloe had now been in cardiac arrest in the ER for 12 minutes.  “V-fib on the monitor, charge the unit to 360.”  Dr, Micheal placed the paddles once again on Chloe’s chest.  “Clear” Chloe’s arms jerked outward as her shoulders shrugged in with the shock.  “Charge again, all clear” The team backed away, some of them started to lose faith in saving this young girl.  “Shocking”  Chloe jerked again as her left leg slightly came off of the bed.  “Still in V-fib, resume CPR and push adrenaline.”  The team continued their efforts and shocked Chloe another two times.  “V-fib on the monitor, whats our down time?”  Dr. Micheal asked as her ordered his team around.  “19 minutes doctor”.  Thoughts began coursing through Micheal’s head again.  How could something like this happen to such a young girl?  Why is she covered in her own blood and dead on his hospital bed?  He had to push these thoughts aside as he refocused on the task as hand.  The defib unit indicated it was charged once again.  “Come on girl come back to us.”  Time always seemed to move slow during a trauma code.  He placed the paddles on Chloe.  The nurse in charge of ventilations let the bag hang next to her head from the tube.  “Clear”  There was a low thud as the unit discharged and Chloe sprung into the air once again.  Her entire body shook as she crashed back down onto the bed.  The piercing scream of asystole once again filled the room.  A nurse resumed CPR without having to be asked.  Dr. Micheal took his light pen and checked her pupils once again.  Her once glistening blue eyes were now glossed over.  Her right pupil was blown and here eyes were fixed and dilated.  The no longer responded to the light.  It was at this moment Dr. Micheal knew this young woman was truly dead.  He ordered the nurse to stop CPR and took his stethoscope and listened to her chest.  The rest of the team felt for a pulse in her foot, femoral, and carotid artery.  “No pulse, her pupils are fixed and dilated.  She has been down for 22 minutes and has blunt force trauma and large blood loss.  Does anyone object to calling this code?” The room fell silent as they looked down at Chloe. "Time of Death 11:27 pm. Thank you all for your help" Dr. Micheal left the room as two nurses stayed to clean up the code. They detached the several wires from her chest leaving only the electrodes. They weren't allowed to wipe off any blood as the police department had to take photos for the case against the driver. They took off her two pink socks and placed a toe tag on her left big toe. It dangled in front of her small foot. They removed the two orange gel pads from her chest and noticed a dark purple mark in between her breasts from all of the CPR. Finally they draped a white cloth over her nude body which quickly showed the blood soaking through. The monitors were shut off and she was left alone until the police and her parents arrived to discover the terrible news.