#now i can collect that marcus badge!!

[perotovar]

PEDRO PASCAL as MARCUS MORENO We Can Be Heroes (2020) dir. Robert Rodriguez

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride Or Die: (Armando x Reader) PART THREE

After a hectic day yesterday. You, Mike and Marcus spent the rest of the day making phone calls and writing down names of those who were close to Captain Howard. You are currently  in your living room, you followed suit with not  going into work with Mike and Marcus since you knew that the whole precinct was pretty much against Howard. 

You found yourself looking at a picture of you, Howard and the boys at a summer basketball game of one of his family members. Life had seemed to be so easier to you then, besides the fact that once you had left he was later shot and killed.

“We have your back Captain.”, you whispered looking at the photo. Before you could finish your thoughts you were interrupted by your phone ringing. It was Mike.

“Hey, what’s up.”, you asked, grabbing your purse and looking around for your keys.

“We’re getting ready to head over to the prison, we can come pick you up.”

“No, I’ll meet you there. Heading out now.”, you replied, spotting your keys on the counter.

“Okay.”

You and Mike’s conversation ended. Short and quick, that is how you like it. You’re not much of a talkative person, unless it's something interesting. You went to grab your keys when you noticed once again that your window was slightly up. It kind of gave you the chills but you didn’t know why. You turned around and took a quick glance of your house, scanning the corners and the dark areas. You felt something but also nothing at all.

“I always come by this window, I probably forgot to pull it back down.”, you muttered, shutting it and locking it. You left your home with an odd feeling in your stomach. You weren't sure if it was because you're about to meet Captain Howard’s murderer or the fact that every time you enter your living room, your window is always up.

As you walked to your car, you were stopped by a little kid riding his bike into your driveway. It was the little boy that lives down the street from you, he always comes over to spend time with you when you are home.

“How can I help you?”, you asked, setting your bag on top of your car and walking up to him.

“Why are you coming home late all the time?”, he asked with the softest voice you’ve ever heard. You had a thing for children, well the adorable soft spoken ones. The badass ones you couldn’t stand, you felt that they are demons in children's skin.

“Remember the fake badge I gave you. I’m a police officer, that will happen.”, you smiled, kneeling down to his level. 

“Yeah but multiple times a night?”he asked, tilting his head. You could tell that he was genuinely confused, which made you lost also.

“What do you mean?”, you questioned standing up to brush your pants.

“I see you come home late, sorry for spying. I'm just so worried. I watch tv and I see what happens.”, he replied, lowering his head. You could tell that he was sad but also genuine. You lifted his head and stared at him into his eyes. His thick glasses made his eyes way bigger than they are and younger than he looked.

“You have nothing to worry about, okay, lady bug. Once I'm free, we can hangout. I know that your grandparents wouldn’t mind.”, you smiled. Lady Bug is the nickname that you gave him. You never learned his actual real name but because he stays in your yard to catch them, you decided to start calling him that.

“Okay.”, he smiled, pulling out of your driveway and riding away. You watched as his training wheels wobbled. He had to be around five or six. However, you never thought to ask.

You grabbed your bag off the top of your car and got inside. You weren’t the type to listen to music while driving, especially during stressful times. You felt the need to drive in silence so you can collect your thoughts and create a plan. Just in case Marcus and Mike don’t have one, which you know that they never do.

It makes you nervous and nauseous, which means what’s happening right now may become worse. Your body never lies, so believe what it is trying to tell you. 

The drive over to the prison took a while but eventually you made it. You pulled up to see Mike and Marcus waiting on you near the entrance. The prison was huge, which means those who were in there had to do some pretty horrible things. After parking next to Mike’s car and walking up to them, you could see the hesitant expression across Mike’s face.

“You ready?”you asked, patting him on his back. He looked at you and replied with a “yes” by shaking his head. It was hot outside with a slight cool breeze, however with the sun beaming onto the three of you backs. You were ready to go in with or without him. The walk inside was long. Alarms were going off left and right, which means something just went down. The three of you were met by the security guards.

“Armando Armas.”, Mike said, lifting up his badge. The guard shifted his eyes towards you and Marcus which made you reply by showing yours.

“Follow Me.”, the guard waved, leading you three towards a dark hallway.

The hallway was long, wet and warm. Each door had a small hole that allowed the prisoners to take a peek. Which led you to being cat-called by all types of men: sticking their tongues out, making sexual gestures and cussing at you.

“Ignore them, they’re animals.”, Marcus laughed, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh trust, they’re not bothering me at all.”, you whispered looking at each door that you passed.

After what felt like forever, you Mike and Marcus finally made it to the door at the end of the hallway. Walking in to see several cages inside the room, with a person inside of them. You followed Marcus and Mike as they walked up to a specific cage in the center of the area, in front of a guard’s desk.

“We need your help.”, Mike whispered looking at the guy inside of the cage.

“This must be Armando.”, you thought to yourself. No response, he just looked at Mike with a smirk on his face.An annoyed one at that. You examined as sweat dripped across his forehead and exposed chest. Which allowed his body to glisten.

“What could I possibly help you with?”he asked, annoyingly shifting his eyes from Mike to Marcus. You watched how he was holding on to the poles, revealing the bruises that were on his knuckles. Was he the reason why the alarms were going off earlier?

“I know that you have connections with the Cartel. You were with them.”, Mike continued stepping closer to him, which allowed you to be in Armando’s line of vision. 

You slightly shifted your head towards the guard at the desk, to notice him looking at you guys. He was listening but for what reason?

“She’s with you?”he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. You quickly turned around to see him looking at you. He was studying your body with his eyes,  shifting the conversation. Which wasn’t needed.

“Look, we can help you if you help us.”, you replied, taking a small step towards the cage.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, I bite. I’m an “animal” remember.”, he smirked, stroking the beard that was on his face. You felt your breath hitched, which made you reply with silence. He caught on.

“Now how the hell did he hear that.”, Marcus answered in shock looking at you and then back to him.

“I hear everything, I know everything.”, he replied, keeping his eyes on you. 

Marcus was right, you could tell just by the way he is acting that he has a big ass ego just like Mike. You hate guys with egos.

“Plus, what are you? A lawyer?”, he continued walking to the back of the cage, keeping his back towards you.

  “No. I’m a-”

“She’s our partner.”Marcus interrupted, looking at you. You watched as Mike shook his head in agreement. It made you feel good.

“Okay well…what does any of this have to do with me?”

“I thought you “hear everything…know everything”, Marcus mocked.

“Do you need my help or not?”, he said, turning around to sit down.

“We do. Howard is being framed by some heavy people, but we have no clue who.”, Mike explained walking up to the cage.

“We know that you know the Cartel very well, since you were in it. We know that you can help us prove Howard’s innocence.”, Marcus answered, following Mike.

You felt that maybe you should say something but you allowed it to be between them three. You watched as he stared at Marcus and Mike as if he had fallen deep into his thoughts. 

“You want me, the person who killed your friend. To help you guys prove that he is innocent.”, he replied, looking around as if he was trying to find an answer.

“I can do that…but what about me?”, he continued. Now he’s looking at you. Hard. His eyes are dark brown and is searching for an answer. He’s leaning his back against the cage with his hips shifted forward, allowing you to not only see the slight abs that he has while sweat drips down it but the print that is trying to make an appearance. You didn’t respond, you didn’t break eye-contact. You just stared at him because you love to challenge men. Especially the dangerous ones.

“There’s not much I can do for now but I can work on shortening your sentence and having you transported and then afterwards we will see.”, Mike answered, looking at Armando for an answer. 

“I can help but you have to be ready, shit may go down.”, he replied, his breathing picking up speed. You can tell that he didn’t want to do it, you could see it all over his body.  He never once took his eyes off of you, even after answering. 

“Well we got our answer.”, you waved off , breaking the staring-contest that was happening between you and Armando.

“You will hear from us when we-”

“Her.”, he interrupted, pointing right at you. “I want to hear from her, and she will be on the bus when they take me to be transported.”, he demanded. 

“Okay.”, you replied, shrugging your shoulders. You watched as Mike and Marcus quickly turned to you in disagreement.

“Hello no, y/n. Not by yourself.”, Marcus argued, shaking his head. “This man is dangerous.”

“So, I’ll be cuffed on the bus.”, he debated, getting up and walking towards the front of the bars.

“Look, we do what we have to do and whatever will work.”, you answered looking at Marcus then at Mike.

“Plus, nothing will go down. Unless she of course wants something too…I wouldn’t mind.”, he smiled, lifting up his hands.

“She’ll be by herself on the bus, we will meet her at the plane and we ALL will be there while he’s being transported. Together.”Mike confirmed looking at you and then at Marcus and Armando.

You watched as Marcus shook his head and Armando smirked in response. 

“Why does he want me to ride with him?”, you thought.

You watched as Mike's phone went off and stood there looking at him while he answered. It was a short conversation because it led with Mike pulling you and Marcus to the side afterwards.

“Dorn and Kelly have something for us to watch. We need to go meet with them.”, He replied looking around and then looking back at you and Marcus. 

“Well let's go.”, Marcus said heading towards the door.

“Be ready. Y/n and some people will be here to pick you up, once I get everything set up.”, Mike said, looking back at Armando.

“Can’t wait…”, he replied sarcastically, leaning his head against the bars. 

You stared at him for a split second and then headed towards the door when you heard Armando call your name.

“What?”, you asked, turning your head slightly enough to where he can see that he has your attention.

“Don’t be late.”, he flirted. You watched as the red light beamed over him, allowing different silhouettes to occur. You knew that he would have a huge ego but you didn’t know that his looks and personality would match up to it. Mike left his hand out to you, to allow you to walk out the door first while Marcus held it.

You could hear the door locking behind you and the catcalling starting up again as you walked down the hallway.

“Y/n we don’t know Armando that well so try to be careful on the bus.”, Marcus suggested looking at you.

“Most definitely.”, you replied, rubbing your hands across your face. You were now second-guessing the decision that you made, even though you felt that it would be best. Armando wasn’t just some normal guy or killer, he was something serious and far more dangerous than the average ones. 

His looks and his personality didn’t help. You thanked God that you’ve been in the game for a long time because if you were freshly new, he would’ve had you the moment you walked in, especially with his accent and the way he carried himself. His energy is strong.

“I know that he’s not just a regular killer because he damn near killed you guys…If we're going to be honest here. However, I know what I am doing.” you added. 

“Well we trust you because Captain did and we trusted Captain. So let's go see what this video is about.”Mike responded.

You guys made it out of the prison and left. The whole time while you were on the road, you kept thinking about him. The way he looked at you, it wasn't the “undressing you with my eyes”kind of look… It was a different kind of stare, you just didn’t know exactly what. He's on  your mind and so is his voice. 

“This should be interesting.”, you sighed while being consumed by silence.

[glowyjellyfish]

Narniapocalypse: DeBateau Round 1, Spring (part four)

Finally figured out my planting issues--I just didn't realize there were badge requirements for different seeds, the mods work fine! On the other hand, the institution sign still does not work and I don't know why, so I am just continuing to manually keep the kids home and adjust their grades to stay at C.

Sofia dug up some tomato seeds and was able to actually plant something, which should be a big help as the seasons roll by. They also have two other kinds of seeds nobody can plant yet. I will definitely permit all the kids to buy seeds from the traveling merchant (read: buy sun&moon crops to plant while the traveling merchant is on the lot, although I may restrict them to one randomly rolled crop being available at a time).

Etsu and Marcus are both miserable, and started fighting. I'm not sure who started it, but Etsu ran off to the side of the room and cried afterwards, while Marcus seemed fine. They're enemies now, and I will probably at least attempt to repair their relationship, although it does as some delicious drama.

Justin ran the farm stand and sold rocks, bones, and old maps to various sims, a few of whom still need their costumes lol. I'd like to forbid the other SimCity Refugee Teens from wasting their money like this, but it's a little late for that and I'm not very knowledgeable about Sims 2 Customer Management. I don't want all the kids to just sell the same stuff back and forth to each other, and might make them unload it on the traveling merchant or something.

I advanced the season at 6 on the last day to try and make the calendar sync up a little nicer; we'll see how it goes. As of Summer 1, Year 0, Justin Cleveland is 19, Tara DeBateau is 18, Sofia Baldwin is 14, Sally Riley is 12, and Marcus Baldwin and Etsu Cho are both 7. Sally's going to age to teen on Summer 2, and Justin and Tara should both become adults by the end of summer.

I finally decided to sell the treasure chest to the catalog, and added half that cash to the tribute they then paid to the Elf King. Future treasure chests will be much rarer, and I haven't decided yet whether this will be the standard procedure, or if I will start applying MCC rules to treasure.

They had a total of $4104 once that was settled, and their 40% tribute came to $1640 once rounded. For fun, I used some coin objects I had to make the payment via Give Gift; it was much more amusing to me than thematically incorrect checkbooks or whatever. Although I may have to make some kind of minions of the Elf King so he doesn't have to personally run around collecting tribute, lol. Anyway, the DeBateau household has a fairly nice amount of money left after their tribute was paid. They may try to buy some crops or livestock from the traveling merchant to really get started, but I'm not sure yet.

Next up should be the Newson household, which if you recall also features all the kids from Desiderata Valley, and I won't have to worry nearly so much about making everything work so it should be easier to just play through. Although if anybody has any ideas about why the institution sign is doing absolutely nothing, that would be cool and helpful.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Hold My Place

PART OF THE THIRD TIME’S  THE CHARM COLLECTION

A/N: This... got out of hand. And I am not sorry. At all. This is the follow up to my first Marcus one shot, which can be found here if you need to catch up. (My masterlist is a disasterlist, so the Marcus link isn’t there yet. I’m working on it?) Also, if you would like to be tagged in future Marcus stories (or stories for any of my other characters) feel free to add yourself here. 

Prompt: Bookmark 

Warning: ITS A FLUFF AND A SMUT. IT’S A SMUFF. (and now i’m going to run and hide for 80eleven years) 

WC: 4.3k

So much for sleeping in. 

He closed his eyes, a laugh slipping out under his breath as he raised his coffee cup to his lips. Smiling, he took a sip and set the cup back down in the holder attached to the armrest, and turned his attention back to his phone. The train ride from Central Station to Schiphol International was only around 20 minutes, and he had been passing that time by scrolling through the messages that the two of you had sent back and forth to one another during his trip. 

Of course he had called you when he could. The sound of your voice in his ear was infinitely more preferable to him than exchanging words on the screen, but between the six hour time difference, the case he was assisting on, and your work schedule, it simply wasn’t always possible. Communicating with text and photo messages wasn’t ideal, but it had kept the two of you connected through the week, all the way up until last night, when among other things he had sent you a message regarding his travel information. 

Flight isn’t until 11- it’s non-stop and gets me back to Dulles around 3 but I wish it was earlier. 

After getting back to his room from the brewery, he stretched out in the hotel bed and sent you that message. His suitcase sat open on the upholstered bench, already packed with everything aside from the toiletries and change of clothing that he would need for the morning. He had done a double check of the side table, making sure that he had all of his charger cables, his glasses, and his watch. The case files he had brought with him along with his laptop, badge and gun had been carefully secured. He had even re-packed the book he had brought with him that he thought he would read on the plane or in his free time before falling asleep. He chuckled to himself as he noted that the gap in the pages where his bookmark was slotted against the binding hadn’t moved at all.

I didn’t even touch it. 

Normally when his job demanded that he get on a plane and stay in another city for an extended length of time, he’d bring a book, sometimes even two if it was a potentially long trip. Between traveling and waiting to meet with people, he typically had downtime that he liked to fill with pleasure reading- something to help him decompress from the stress of the day or to give his mind a break from being overworked. But this trip had been different in that he had never wanted an assignment to end sooner than he had with this one. 

Never had anything to rush home to… but now I do.  

Marcus hadn’t wasted a single second of free time not working on the case, pouring over files and closely inspecting photographs, fingerprints and records at the end of each day, in between meetings, even while he brushed his teeth in the mornings, in hopes that he could wrap things in Amsterdam up without having to extend his time there- his time away from you. It wasn’t his first time away from you in the nearly six months that you’d been dating. About a week after your third date he’d had to travel to Paris for ten days, and you had needed to spend a long weekend in Savannah meeting with potential clients just last month, so it wasn’t that he was anxious about how or if the time apart might have changed things between you. When it came to you, to you and him, nothing made him anxious. He simply missed you. 

I wish it was earlier too, but at least you can sleep in!

He missed sleeping in with you. He missed your laugh against his skin, your smile against his lips. He missed the sunlight through the blinds on your face while you fought for those last few seconds of slumber, and the moonlight in your eye lashes while your breaths slowed and deepened and your body relaxed alongside his. He missed kissing you goodnight on the evenings that you didn’t sleep in the same bed, knowing that he was only a few hours from getting to do it again. He missed meeting you in the middle of your busy days to get lunch at one of the food trucks halfway between his office and yours. He missed wrapping his arms around you on the couch and feeling your back resting atop his chest, your socked feet mingling with his before both of your socks along with the rest of your clothes ended up in a heap on the floor. 

He missed everything about you. 

Using his thumb to scroll a little further through his phone as the overhead message system alerted riders that the train was approaching Schiphol, he came to the end of the message thread. You had asked him to call you, not just send a text, before boarding his flight in the morning, stating that you knew it would be early on your end but that you wanted to hear his voice before he left the ground. Reading it again now had the same effect on him that it had when he read it the night before, your words bringing a smile to his face and making his heart beat harder.  

Just call me, Pike. I’ll answer. Sleep well, miss you. xx

He thought about those two little x’s all damn night. Those two little x’s woke him up early, brought a rush of heat up his neck, made him think of all the things that those two little x’s stood for and how it would feel when he got his hands on you to interpret them. 

Before he could get too lost in what those x’s could mean, the train pulled into the airport station and Marcus grabbed his suitcase and carry-on from the luggage rack above his head. Stepping out onto the platform, he slipped his phone, passport and boarding pass into his jacket pocket and followed the signs for international departures. After checking his bag and grabbing another cup of coffee, he made his way to the gate, excitement building steadily with each step towards you that he took. 

Damn. She really… He shook his head, smiling down at his shoes as he took a seat in the waiting area. Once his work on the case had ended, you were all he was capable of thinking about. And I don’t mind one little bit. He sighed and took a sip of his coffee, cheeks still slightly rounded from the grin you put there from across the Atlantic.  

He wanted to wait until the last possible moment to give you a call in case you were still sleeping, but he still had some time to kill before boarding started. Remembering the book he’d brought and neglected, he set his cup on the ground between his feet and pulled his reading material from his bag. Picking his beverage back up, he bit the rim of the cup to hold it momentarily. Sliding both index fingers into the space formed by his bookmark, he pulled the pages apart to let the book open across his lap. Right hand moving up to remove his cup from his teeth, he squinted down at the rectangular strip of blank cardboard that marked his place. What is… that’s not my- 

He picked it up, pinching it between the thumb and pointer finger of his left hand, and turned it over. As soon as he did, he recognized your handwriting in blue ink, and another surge of warmth and affection for you washed over him. 

Have a good flight and a safe trip Marcus! Miss you already! xx 

You had changed out his bookmark for a note, likely making the switch while he was in the shower the morning that he left. He had spent the night at your place since it was closer to the airport which meant that he’d have a shorter commute and get to spend more time with you, and you must have taken advantage of the only fifteen minutes that he wasn’t next to you to execute your plan. That’s why she kept asking me how my book was. You had asked him at least three times if he’d gotten any time to read, if he was enjoying the plot. He tapped the cardboard against the pages and looked down at your looping lettering again. She wanted to see if I found her note. Sighing to himself, he lifted the handmade, makeshift bookmark to his lips. This woman. She’s… Swallowing down the caution he had thus far approached his feelings for you with, he allowed himself the thought that he knew he’d been feeling for a while. 

She is everything to me. I love her. 

Tucking your note behind the dust jacket, he pulled out his phone to check the time. He still had about an hour before take off, so he waited to dial your number, reading a few chapters before sticking his new bookmark between the pages where he left off and boarding the plane. Once in his seat, he knew that his window for using his phone was closing, so he pulled it out again and this time he did press the green call button next to your name. It only rang twice before you picked up, and as soon as you did he felt himself think it again. 

I love this woman. 

“Mmm,” you hummed into the receiver, and even though an ocean lay between you instead of just sheets, he felt his heartbeat quicken like it did when he could reach over and touch you. “G’morning, Marcus.” 

He spoke your name, a smile immediately curving his lips upwards around it. “Good morning. Hope you slept well.” 

You yawned, a small squeak coming through the phone making him close his eyes and release a breath, and then answered. “I’ll sleep better tonight when you’re here.” Another yawn broke through and then you were continuing. “When you’re home.” 

Home. He was staying with you again that night, and you had just referred to your place as his home. I… she… But even if it sent him sputtering, he knew that it was true- he had felt just as much at home with you at your house as he felt when you were together in his apartment, and he realized that it wasn’t the address on the building that made the difference. “Yeah,” he said through another grin, this one awed at the way your lives had so easily come together. “Me too. Can’t wait to be home.” He cleared his throat as you hummed sleepily, and went on. “Got your note, by the way. I’m sorry I didn’t find it sooner, I just… I didn’t spend any time reading on this trip” 

“Oh!” He heard a muffled laugh and imagined you rolling halfway into your pillow. “Good, I’m glad you found it before you got h-” this time the yawn cut right down the middle of the word home, but he understood, laughing and agreeing with you. 

“So where is my bookmark?” He scratched at his bearded chin, tilting his head to look out the window as the rest of the passengers continued to board. “Are you using it in your book, or-”  

Your answer was immediate and it stole the sleep from your voice. “It’s holding your place, Marcus.” 

Holding my place? What does that- 

Before he could ask you though, his phone vibrated against his ear to alert him that a message had come through. “Hold on, I just-” He pulled the phone down to see that it was a photo message from you, and without thinking twice he swiped his finger across the screen to open it. 

Holy shit. 

His eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw what you had sent him, and he quickly shielded his phone away from any nearby eyes. There on his screen was his bookmark- snug against your skin and tucked into the elastic band of your underwear, the shiny gold metal rectangle visible above and below the blue lacy band. The shock of it hadn’t even fully set in yet when his phone buzzed twice more- one displaying the placeholder between your breasts, another a close up of it pressed between your lips. 

Damn. Holy… damn. 

Suddenly realizing that you were still on the phone, he brought it back to his ear, your name coming out more of a hiss than he intended but there was little he could do about that. “What did you… are you-” You were laughing, the sound only invigorating the need to get his hands and mouth on you. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be for me to sit through this-” 

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea of how hard it will be, Marcus.” 

He groaned, closing his eyes. “I walked into that one.” Letting out a sigh that did nothing to release the tension that you were stoking in him, he swore and said your name under his breath. “You are so damn gorgeous. I’m the luckiest-” 

“Not as lucky as you’re gonna be,” you said, and he could hear how satisfied with yourself you were for pulling this one off. 

“Damn I gave you that one, too, huh?” I love her. Even if this is going to be the most difficult flight of my life. 

You didn’t have time to answer though, the flight attendants coming around to ask everyone to turn off their devices as the crew readied for takeoff. “Guess you have to go?” 

“Yeah, guess I do. And as soon as I get through that door?” 

“Shh- don’t tell me, Marcus… show me.” Oh, you asked for it. “Get home safe, see you soon.” 

“See you soon,” he responded, before hanging up and having to face the colossal challenge of making it through a trans-Atlantic flight with those pictures in his mind.

..  ..  ..  ..  ..  

Traffic had delayed both of you, Marcus calling to let you know when he landed and then again when he had picked up his car from long term parking. You weren’t home yet, telling him that you were running late and that you might be in the shower when he got there, and even though he knew you were probably planning something that was now thrown off by the delay, the idea of getting home to you in the shower fit right into his plans. “You have your key though, right? Just use that, let yourself in.” 

It was incredible to him how quickly you could flip his thoughts from your wet, glistening skin, the water dripping over your curves, to the warmth that all of your small actions- the note in his book, wanting to hear his voice before he flew, giving him a key to let himself in- brought to his heart. “Alright,” he agreed, dizzy by now with how badly he needed to crush you against his chest, find your lips with his and kiss you more deeply than he ever had. “See you in the shower, then.” 

Driving the speed limit had never been as impossible as it was then, and he fought the urge to press his foot to the floor and break the damn law to get to you sooner.

When he finally got there, lugging his suitcase up your front steps and turning his copied key in the lock, he’d already undone his tie and shed his jacket. The sound of the pipes told him that you were still upstairs in the shower, and kicking off his shoes, he took the steps two at a time and started working at the buttons on his shirt. As he got closer to the bedroom where the shower in use was located, he could smell your bodywash, the scent only pushing him more out of his mind for you and pulling a breathy groan from him that turned into a call of your name. Shrugging out of his button down, he tossed in on your bed before making quick work of his belt and socks while you called back. 

“Marcus? I’ll be out in a minute, just-” 

But there was no way that he was going to wait. Not after a week away from you. Not after what he realized about how he felt for you, and certainly not after those pictures. Undoing the zipper and stepping out of his pants, he pulled off his undershirt and opened the bathroom door, walking in wearing just his boxer briefs. “Don’t get out,” he said as you slid the frosted shower door open and stuck your head out. “I’m coming in.” 

He watched your chest heave, beads of water falling from your hair to trickle in rivulets between your breasts and down your abdomen, watched you bring your hand up to your chest. “Hi,” you pushed the door open even further as elation and desire erupted over your features. 

“Hi,” he leaned forward to press a scruffy kiss to your soft, wet lips, pulling his boxers down at the same time. “Those pictures you sent me… and all you say is hi?” He spoke the last part in a low voice and he felt the shiver it brought on in you as he stepped under the water and slid his hand around to the small of your back. “I think I can get more out of you than hi.”  

With that, he kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth as both of you let out small moans of appreciation for the feel of skin on skin, his hands roaming your hips, your ass your collarbone, yours claiming his chest and shoulders. “Missed you so damn much,” he bent down to speak into your ear, teeth closing lightly around the lobe to pull a sigh from you as he brought both hands to the backs of your thighs, tapping one to get you to lift it and guiding your foot up onto the tile bench that was built into your shower. “Missed every damn thing about you.” 

You tried to say that you missed him, too, but your words dissolved under the hot water and the stroke of his thick fingers along the velvety flesh at the apex of your thighs, and he felt himself grow even harder at how clearly you wanted him. Unable to waste another second, he cupped the side of your face in one large palm and ducked his head down to kiss you again, wanting to taste your moans the moment that he entered you. You clutched into him, both arms going around his neck as you cried out into his mouth, but soon he felt you meeting his thrusts with your hips, and he broke the kiss to focus on you, watching as you came undone and groaning as he felt you clench around him, pulling out only to be wrapped up by your shaking palm, your thumb sliding around the head of him before moving your wrist at roughly the same pace you’d been using while he was still inside you. “Missed you, too, Marcus… needed this… needed you.” 

Your words alone would have taken care of him at that point, but combined with your touch he stood no chance of lasting longer than a few seconds, and he came with his forehead pressed into your shoulder, his arm tight around your back and your shuddering breaths on his sternum. Turning his head just enough to seek out skin with his lips, he dragged them over the bottom of your jaw to leave a trail up to the corner of your lips. “That was one,” he murmured, eyes closed as the hand that cupped your cheek moved to cradle the back of your head. He pulled back and blinked them open to look at you, his chest swelling as soon as his eyes met yours. 

“What?” you asked through a breathless laugh, shaking your head, hands running down his back. 

“Nothing,” he rubbed the tip of his nose against the side of yours. “Let’s get dried off, yeah?” 

You agreed with a nod, eyes still hooded from what he’d just done to you, and after rinsing off you both got out, Marcus reaching for the towels on the rack and using one to pull you into another kiss before letting you dry yourself off. 

He didn’t let you do much more than than, though. As soon as he was no longer soaking wet, he ditched his towel in the haphazard pile of his clothes, swept the shirt and belt he’d thrown on the bed aside, and in one fell swoop grabbed and tossed you on the bed in their place. 

“Marcus!” You laughed as he climbed up next to you, advancing on you as you lay back into the pillows and not stopping until he was settled between your legs. “You…” 

“No, you.” He hooked one arm under one of your legs and leaned in to kiss your knee. “You have been on my mind for the last week.” He kissed higher on your thigh. “And then this morning? You sent those pictures.” The last word came out in a huff, the sensation of his breath on your skin making you release your own strangled breath. “You drove me crazy with those, you know that?” 

“Mmm… yeah,” you admitted. “That was the point.” 

He let out a low chuckle that was more threat than it was laugh. “Oh, your point was made.” His mouth had traveled up your leg now, almost to the place where it met your pelvis, lips barely ghosting over your flesh. “Loud and clear,” he whispered, hooking his other arm in the same fashion as the first. “And now? It’s my turn to make a point.” 

With that, he lowered his head until he was in position, and then he heard you cry out, the sound muffled as you stuffed your own forearm over your lips as his lips covered you, as his tongue pushed into you, as his fingers drew circles wherever they contacted your body. 

Mouth sealed to your skin and tongue still curled inside you, he let out a throaty hum at the scrape of your nails down the back of his neck. Damn, she’s- You inhaled sharply and he let his eyes flick up in time to watch your lips move as you mouthed his name, your chest rising more quickly with each breath you took. He unfurled his tongue, groaning again at the high whining sound you made before repeating his name, this time with more volume but just as much need. 

“Marcus, I-” Your head pressed into the pillow, back lifting in a slight arch to raise your hips off of the mattress. “I’m…” 

I know. You were close. Not only were you damn near panting, but he could feel and taste exactly how near the cliff you were, and he knew if he wasn’t careful you would pull him over it with you. With one last slow stroke of his tongue, he withdrew it from your body and he had to circle his palms around to the tops of your thighs to coax you back down to the bed. He let out a hot, shaky breath against your sensitive flesh, kissing the place he’d just sucked and licked, nearly as tortured as you were from cutting himself off. 

Before you could protest his sudden absence though, he brought his right hand back beneath your leg, calf still hiked over his shoulder, and sunk two fingers into you. Keeping them unbent and unmoving, he turned his face just enough to drag his scruff over your inner thigh, feeling as your body clenched hungrily around his digits. 

“Marcus,” you reached for him, carding your fingers through his damp hair and making a loose grip, tugging to get him to look at you. “W-what are you-” 

“What was it you told me?” He mumbled against your soft skin, left arm wrapped around your right leg, thumb tucked into the crease where your thigh met your hip and fingers splayed over your side. He glanced up at you then, the drunken look in your eyes spurring him on. “Holding my place?” Your teeth dug into your plush bottom lip, and he continued. “So I know where I left off.”  

The sound that left your lips then was as ragged as he’d ever heard come from you, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing he had ever heard. “Well… are you… are you gonna-” 

He smirked then, watching your eyes as they blew wide at the deliberate curl of his fingers. Pairing the slow movement with the stroke of his thumb, he brought you over the edge a second time. “That’s two,” he whispered into another kiss. 

“Marcus… two? What?” You panted, pawing at him, completely torn apart for him. 

“You sent me three pictures, right?” He asked, your responding moan nearly enough to finish him again. “Then I have one more place to pick up from,” he told you, helping you lay back in a more comfortable position and leaving a delicate kiss near the corner of your eye. “Thanks for holding my place for me.” He dropped his voice to just a whisper then and you whimpered as you returned both of your hands to his body. 

“You don’t need a bookmark to hold me, Marcus,” you told him. “I’m yours, anytime.” 

Anytime. His. You were his. 

His heart pounded in his chest with how those words made him feel, and he smiled at you, shifting himself so that his hips were lined up with yours. “No time like the present,” he said, taking you in his arms and letting you gasp into his neck as he pushed into you once more, making good on all three of the places you held for him. 

.

.

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Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! If there is anything that you would like to see me write for Marcus Pike, please don’t hesitate to send your ideas and I will see what I can do! :) 

Tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @alraedesigns @jedifarmer @cannedsoupsucks

[pynkhues]

Prompt 47!

Sorry this one is so late! I hope you like it!

47. Cuddling under blankets

It takes her two days to cave.

Two days to feel the frost in her joints, her perspiration crystalise, her breaths escape in clouds of bitten mist, and god, Beth thinks, staring up at the roof of the cabin, half expecting stalactites. This is not what she had in mind when Rio said safe house.

Not that she was entirely sure what she did have in mind before - - well. Just before. Had never spent all that much time thinking about where it was Rio went when everything had gone south, but if – gun to her head – she’d had to guess, she’d have thought: luxury apartments, sundrenched holiday houses, riverside lodges.

A place his G Wagon would look at home in the driveway, the parking lot, pulled up on the curb.

Somewhere he’d look at home.

The thought makes her wet her chapped lips, sink deeper into the threadbare blankets on top of her still-trembling body, and her gaze dart sideways to where Rio crouches stoking the last flickering embers of the fire.

It’s raining. or rather, it’s sleeting. Shards of ice colliding with the thick glass windows, escaping down the chimney to make the flames spit and smoke below, and when it had first started, Beth had watched Rio cuss. Watched him prod balls of tattered newspaper and sticks she’d collected and tried to dry yesterday, but it hadn’t done much good. The rain had gotten heavier and the fire smaller and she’d seen the chill find him. Pink his nose, ears, stiffen his fingers, and she’d though good, she’d thought he deserves it, but she’d still left him the last of the hot water in the flask even as her own fingers were turning blue.

Now, she holds them close to her mouth, exhales, but her breath is barely warm, and she can’t stop trembling, so she shoves them between her legs instead, and looks at him across the tiny, dim cabin, and says what she’s been saying for the last half hour:

“It’s going to go out.”

He’d ignored her the last time, and scoffed the first time, but now at least it’s enough to make him spin around and look at her, bundled upright on the only bed in the place, the look on his face like he’d forgotten she was even there, and Beth huffs, tilting her chin towards the fire.

“Poking at it isn’t going to miraculously fix the chimney leak,” she adds this time, a shiver rolling up her spine as Rio stares back at her, the erratic glow from the dying flames licking across his features – his plush lips and sharp nose and swollen eye, but god, it’s not that. It’s just - - it’s the cold. That’s all, and when his nostrils flare a little, it’s too easy to add: “Well, it’s not,” because she’s right.

Across the room, Rio finally drops the fire poker back to the tray and stalks his way towards the tiny sofa where he slept last night, tucking his arms high up into his armpits as he drops onto it, leaving his back to her as he hunches forwards, making himself as small as possible in the frigid space of the cabin.

And she doesn’t feel bad.

She doesn’t.

This entire situation is his fault.

It was him who showed up three weeks ago with a new plate, telling her to print two million dollars cash. It was him who’d had that spring to his step while he told her about a new client, and it was him who had her show up at a hotel bar with a suitcase full of fake cash to meet a guy who turned out to be an old-partner-turned-bitter-rival of Nick’s.

She still doesn’t really know what happened, just suddenly it was a few days later and Rio was back at her place with a black eye and a limp and an order.

Bring the plates.

He’d driven them through the night.

Now, across the cabin, he drops a hand to rub at his bad leg, and Beth’s frown deepens as she wriggles back into the dusty mattress, her gaze holding on the narrow line of him, and here’s the thing.

It’s not like she hasn’t thought about it.

Last night had been bad enough, but tonight with the rain and the sleet, without any real insulation and no fire, they’re practically case studies for hypothermia. For the bone chill and the frost bite and the slurred speech and the shuttered eyes and the slip towards a forever sort of unconsciousness.

And like, she knows that the best ways to avoid hypothermia are warm drinks, food, blankets, getting off the ground, and body heat, and just - -

Look.

They finished the cocoa hours ago.

Beth sniffs, rolls her eyes to the ceiling, feels a jittery tension in her body as she blinks hard and finally just says it:

“Come here.”

Rio twists his neck back instantly at that, his eyebrow arched, but he doesn’t make any indication that he’s likely to move, and right, Beth huffs. Why should this be any easier than literally anything else? Her head’s already starting to feel heavy, her thoughts tangled, and she figures the best way forwards is to - - well.

Be the danger.

With a trembling hand, Beth slowly unwraps the blanket from around herself, revealing her stiff jeans and loose sweater, the cold washing through the thin fabric like a rinse, and her teeth are already chattering when she says:

“Body heat.”

His other eyebrow raises to join the first, gaze dropping to her chest where she knows her nipples are peaked in cold, and Beth scowls.

“Not like that. Just - - we’re both freezing right and now, and this - - look. It works.”

“Yeah? You learn that at Journey Scouts?”

“Got the badge and everything,” she bites, and she’s sure she’s visibly trembling now, can feel it, and she sees Rio stare at her, shake his head, start to tell her to bundle up before she kills herself or something, and she adds: “You either come over here and get in the blanket with me or we’re both going to freeze to death right now, and what are your gang buddies gonna think of that, huh?”

Outside, the wind howls and the sleet is starting to get heavier, thicker, careen into hail, and god, it’s cold, and Beth can barely feel her anything anymore, and Rio’s still staring at her, his eyes (or, well, the one she can see below the swelling) dark, and she’s halfway to giving up and flinging herself back on the dusty mattress and trying to shiver her way to any sort of warmth, when Rio suddenly pushes up off the couch and beelines towards the bed.

Which - - right, Beth thinks. This is good, this is what she wanted. In her head, there are vague flashes of real warmth, his body pressed into hers, a memory of heat and desire twisted up and around and over and over, and something drops through her like a lick of flame, and she swallows only to suddenly find herself being gripped around the waist and pushed sideways. Within moments, Rio’s slipped his body beside hers and laid them both down, the mattress frigid beneath them, as Beth desperately tries to adjust the thin blankets back across them both.

She inhales sharply when she feels Rio’s leg press sideways against her own.

His arm against hers.

Both of them suddenly pushed like fish fingers against each other on their backs.

Or like corpses.

The thought makes her swallow.

Makes her gaze flick up to see his swollen face, his pink nose, his unusually pale features.

God, it’s cold.

Beth sniffs, looks down as she wriggles further beneath the blankets, curling her socked-toes to try and hold the blanket to them.

“So,” she tries. “How long are we going to be here?”

“I dunno,” he answers instantly, voice light, like he’d been waiting for her to ask. “How much holiday leave you got?”

Beth scowls, twisting to look at him, and then away, and then back, fixing on the way he hasn’t taken his gaze off the ceiling. It leaves her with little to look at but his swollen eye, the skin darkened with bruises around his temple, and she can’t quite keep the edge out of her voice when she asks:

“Did your brother give you that?”

“Cousin.”

He sniffs as he says it, nose wrinkling, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he winced too at the motion of it. Pressed against her own, his arm feels tight, stiff, his leg cold against hers, and fine, if that’s the way he wants to play it.

“Oh, sorry. Did your cousin give you that?” Beth asks, correcting herself, and at least now, Rio does twist his neck to look at her, his eyes wide in the dark, the whites of them near luminous, and god he is - - he is too close. So close she can feel the cool of his breath against her cheek.

He doesn’t reply, and Beth swallows, something in her gut twisting, fingers trembling as the silence pulses between them, and she doesn’t know if it means yes, or if Rio’s insulted she’d even think that (Nick had just seemed - - and Rio - - something. There was something, that’s all), and it makes her look away. Makes her stare up at the ceiling like he’d been doing, like she had earlier too, watching the timber roofing tremble and listening to the shatter of sleet.

She thinks her toes are going numb.

She thinks her lips are.

She thinks the cold is starting to wrap its fingers around her ankles and pull her into its clutches, starting to leave her tired, and suddenly she’s grasping at anything to distract herself. Anything to keep her head above the threat of frigid oblivion, and she’s halfway through the chorus of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? before she even realizes what she’s humming.

It’s not until Rio snorts beside her that it means anything to her slow turning head.

Beth’s gaze fixes back on him, and it’s sudden then – the memory of Jane and Marcus singing it to each other through the laundry room door while they played, back when Rhea still came around, back when Beth thought - -

After - -

Beth blinks.

A shiver wracking her chest as she clutches the blankets a little tighter.

“Does Marcus like Frozen?” she asks, like she doesn’t know, and from the way Rio makes a low noise of affirmation, she knows that he doesn’t.

Something in Beth loosens, tightens, loosens again.

“He really likes that snowman,” Rio says, sniffing again. “Olaf.”

His lip twitches – something between a smile and a grimace, and Beth can’t help but grin in reply, her own gaze holding now on the twist of his mouth.

“Jane had a stuffed one that sang the song from the movie. The Summer one. I took out the sound box and stitched it back up.”

Rio barks on a laugh, even as Beth cringes at the memory. It probably wasn’t her finest parenting moment, but after hearing the same song for the thirtieth time in a day, she was about to start tearing at the wallpaper.

“I told her he just wasn’t feeling well,” she adds. “But secretly I’m hoping she forgets he ever sang.”

It’s weird, the voice in her head that tells her it’s not a secret anymore.

Not now that she’s told him.

She doesn’t know why that leaves her pressing her arm to his a little tighter.

“Damn, you’re doin’ better than me,” Rio tells her, his voice low, a little slurred, hoarse with cold. She thinks that’s one of the symptoms of hypothermia, isn’t it? God, she can’t remember. “I gave Marcus’ to one of his cousins.”

Beth laughs.

Looks at him.

Vaguely, something in her head tells her to listen to his chest. Check for a rattle. Is that for hypothermia? No. Pneumonia, she thinks. Tries to summon up her badge training. God, she feels drunk suddenly. Woozy. She lifts her head and places it on his chest anyway, and if he’s surprised, he doesn’t act it. Instead, his arm circles around her shoulders, pulling her into him, which is silly, she doesn’t need the rest of her to hear the ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum of his heart beneath her ear. Doesn’t need to drop his mouth to the crown of her head, doesn’t need to inhale either, but she shivers at the warmth of his exhale there when he does that and when his freezing hand finds her shoulder, it’s too easy to reach back.

To pull it around her arm and under, squeezing his fingers into her armpit to warm them, and when his fingers creep forward to squeeze her breast, she doesn’t move them, couldn’t, she doesn’t think, not with his heartbeat so close, and his chest isn’t rattling but it might, she thinks, and god, it’s so much warmer like this, so she shouldn’t move her head just yet.

Just to be sure.

Just to warm them up a little.

Just for now.

[youresog0lden]

Platonic II Spencer Reid

“I guess this wasn’t such a platonic relationship. “

Summary: There was a murder on a ship at sea. So the BAU has to go investigate the crime finding out about a secret society on the ship, but what happens if they dig to deep and Spencer and You both end up getting hurt. 

Warning: Talk of death, Killing, Drugs, and Panic Attack. 

WC: 5K 

this is by far my favorite one. GIF NOT MINE !! 

masterlist

A/N: so basically the idea of this came from a dream I had, excpet the kidnapping part I guess you can say kidnapping. 

“Y/L/N.” I sigh, taking a sip of my coffee before walking into the conference room. I set my coffee down, along with my bag and look at the setting in front of me.

“This is a big one.” Garcia said pointing the remote at the monitor in front of us. 

“A ship. It is a year long round school ship, they have classes so they're tons of kids on it. Three were found dead last night.  Marcas Zone, Jamie Little, and Xander Baker. Stabbed four times each. We have a note. It was left in the pocket of one of the kids' clothing.” 

“What did the note say Garcia?” JJ asked, picking up the file in her hand. She turned the screen and showed a note that read loud and clear. “You know who we are, we have worked together before. Just wait till the FBI is involved. It will get even messier.” I blinked. 

“Were they talking to us or the boat team?” I asked. 

“It seems like they 're talking to the passengers on the boat, because they ended up saying ‘Just wait till the FBI is involved.’ It isn’t worded like an adult would word it. It’s worded like a teenager would say something like that. It has a much more childish feature to it, or it was an adult with not as much teaching..” Spencer explained to the group. All of us nodded. I take a second to look at him fully. He was wearing a button up, a tie, and black pants.. His hair was a mess and his lips were slightly chapped probably from licking them all the time. . 

“So in the way this could be a kid. How did they get this to be so planned out. Someone would’ve had to notice that he or she was killing someone that type of thing doesn’t go unnoticed.” Tara asked the group.

“Unless it was a group effort.” I said picking the file up looking at it in my hands. 

“When we get there we need to be quiet about the situation. The kids do not need to know about this, it will only cause more panic. So JJ, Tara go to the morgue, it’s on the bottom floor. Alvez, Matt the captain will talk to you guys. Spencer, Y/N you guys will go to talk to the crew members that found the bodys. Rossi and I will talk to the family  members and they will be meeting us there. Garcia will be coming with us. Reception is kinda spotty out there. They’re docked at port, but we must not take any precautions. Remember don’t tell anyone. Wheels up in 15.” Emily said grabbing her file and leaving through the door closest to her. I grab my mug that was now empty and walk towards the kitchen pouring the steamy black liquid in my cup. 

“Hey can you fill my cup up too?” Spencer asked behind me. 

“Of course, pretty boy.” I said, the blush creeping up on his face as I called him the name Morgan gave him years back and even after he left I continued to use it, seeing as it gave both this feeling of being at home. Even though both of us loved Alvez, Matt, and Tara. It just wasn’t the same as Spence, JJ, Garcia, Morgan, Hotch, Rossi, Em, and I. I handed him his coffee and he put his sugar in. I drink the straight up black coffee seeing as it gives me more energy knowing we’re going to need it. I walk to my desk and grab my bag, same for Spence. Heading to the jet. 

“It’s going to be about a thirty minute flight so until we land just relax. We’ll need all of the strength we can get.” Emily said sitting down on the other side of the jet. I sit on the couch directly across from Spencer. I lay my legs on him, and put my head against the side of the couch, he laughs putting his forearms on my legs reading his book in his hands. I smile and close my eyes letting my body relax. But pretty soon I am being awoken by the curly headed guy underneath me. It doesn't take me long to register what’s happening. I sit up taking my feet off his and sit in a regular seat buckling up, Spencer doing the same. I take my chance and lay my head on his shoulder letting my eyes close for a few more minutes. He just lets out a soft laugh laying his head on mine. 

When we finally land all of us get in a car there being three. Rossi, Tara, Emily, and Alvez went in one. Matt, Garcia and JJ in another, and Spencer and I in the last. He drives because I don’t want to. Following the others he puts his hand in mine. Something we always did. We always had this flirty banter going on between us. No one really knew why. Was it because we had feelings for each other? Maybe. Maybe it was just straight platonic. Neither of us decided to talk on it leaving it up to our imagination to run wild on ideas. All I know is when we do have our flirty banter I get butterflies in my damn stomach. I push them aside every time telling myself it meant nothing. Finally we pulled up to the port where the ship landed.

“Holy shit, that boat is huge.” 

“What don’t tell me you’re afraid of boats.” Spencer laughs. I just sit there quietly not saying anything. 

“Navi Phobia or navisphobia from navis, Latin for ship, vessel, boat is the fear of boats and cruise ships. It is actually quite common.” he says quickly covering up that he was laughing. I just laugh quietly. 

“Well just know I’ll be right here. I won’t leave your side.” he threatens. 

“Don’t tease me with a good time.” I wink at the kid in front me. He laughs as we walk to meet up where the team is. 

“Okay. Everyone remember where you’re supposed to go?” Emily asked, all of us nodded. 

“Okay then let’s go.” Spence and I start walking toward where Emily said the crew would meet us. We meet on the Lido deck. 

“Hello. I’m SSA Y/N Y/L/N. This is Dr. Spencer Reid.” I shake the team's hands Spencer just nodding and waving. 

“Hi. I’m James, this is Sam, and this is Abby.” the team said to us. 

“Okay, so I’m going to ask you a few questions, nothing too big, just things we will need in order to help solve this case so it doesn’t happen again. Okay?”  They nod. 

“What time did you end up finding the kids last night?” I asked, 

“About 10:30.” Abby says. I nod. 

“Where did you find them?” Spencer asked

“We found them in Jamie's cabin. We thought they would be out with everyone else. The captain was throwing a huge party seeing as this was our last day at sea. So we went in to clean the room and we found Jamie and Marcus spread on the bed. Xander was found in the tub. He got the worst.” 

“Okay.” I said writing it down in my notebook. 

“Thank you for your time today.” I said to the workers in front of me. 

“If you notice or remember anything please call me.” I gave my number to Abby as we began to walk away. 

“Hey Y/L/N.” I hear Sam call out and I turn around looking up at him. 

“You might want to go check out the crime scene for yourself. Just in case we missed anything. You know, we aren't the real detective agents.” he laughs, looking me up and down as he spoke. I nod. 

“Okay thank you we will.” I said, turning on my heels and walking away with Spencer. 

“He gives me a weird vibe.” Spencer laughs. 

“Yeah, something’s off with him, but I’ll text Emily that we’re going to the scene.” he nods, so I take my phone out and just like she said earlier the service was spotty, so I just put my phone back in the back pocket of my jeans. I nudge Spencer before smiling. 

“What’s going on in that pretty brain of yours.” 

“Just thinking.” 

“Of?” he just looks at me. 

“Hey what’s going on?” I asked him, stopping, and taking his arm in my hand, moving it down until our hands connected. He smiles at it. 

“I don’t know, Something about being here right now is giving me a very bad feeling. Call it a sixth sense if you will.” he says softly rubbing my knuckles with his thumb. I nod knowing what he meant. 

“Hey, everything's going to be okay. We will catch this unsub, and we will get justice for these kids.” I say, pulling my other hand up to move hair out of his face. He smiles pressing a soft kiss on my forehead, removing his hand from mine allowing us to walk. Yeah ‘platonic relationship.’ We walked to the floor that held the kids' rooms. Once we reach there, we show our badges. They cleared off this floor saying there was a plumbing problem so we didn’t have to worry about that. What’s the first thing you usually notice in a room? Well for me it’s the smell. 

“Bleach.” I said, my nose getting that stinging smell. I look around for a split second before my eyes catch something. 

“Sir do you have a pair of gloves.” I ask. He nods, handing me the gloves. I thank him putting the gloves on my hands. I walk to the dresser and look at the photo on it. It had Marcus, Jamie, and Xander, and a guy. But beside it was a picture of them with a eye on the side. 

“Sir.” I called out. 

“Yes ma’am?” 

“Do you know what this sign means?” I asked. He shook his head no. I thanked him and walked over to the side table beside his bed. Spencer came over soon enough looking at me waiting for me to tell him something. I don’t though. I look at the books located. I go through each one looking for anything telling me something about that eye. 

“I need you to go look through each one of those books over there to see if anything remotely close comes up, matching this.” I showed him the eye. He nods walking to the book shelf. I wiggle the drawer but it doesn’t open. I keep wiggling it until it finally pops open, almost sending me back. I collect myself hearing a small chuckle escape Spencer's lips. I look at the notebook hidden in the drawer. I take it out. 

“Spencer.” I called out over my shoulder. He walks over to me, question written all over his face. I open the notebook looking at the pages seeing him write all about this secret society that was formed on the boat over the past three years. Talking about rituals, how to become a member, and most importantly a list of all the members. A certain member catching my eye. Sam Brown. 

“Holy shit. Is that?” he said 

“Yeah.”  

“Let’s get this to Prentiss” he said as both of us walked out of the crime scene. I reached for my phone as I looked for a signal. Finally getting one, letting my messages come through. Hey, meet us at the port. Y/N? Y/N why aren’t you answering? 

“Shit.” I said loudly. Spencer looked over at me raising his brows in the air. 

“We have to go. They want to meet us in the port.” I say walking towards the direction of the port. Holding the notebook in my hand. Finally we reach the port seeing the team talking and a few pacing back and forth. 

“Sorry. We couldn’t get cell reception in the room we’re in.” Spencer said Emily nods. 

“Did you find anything.” she asked. I nod showing them the notebook. 

“What is that?” 

“It’s a diary per-say. We found it in Marcus’s room. I found an eye on a picture of the three boys, there was this other kid. I don’t know who he was but the eye looked weird so we went searching and I found this and it told us all about the secret society called ‘The Blind Eye Society.’ It tells us all about the members, what the clubs about, and how to get it.” I said

“So they were in this club? Maybe that’s what killed them. Maybe they wanted out so the leader killed them because they knew too much.” Rossi spoke. 

“Maybe. But today we were talking with this guy. His names-” I stop for a second hearing something, like the sound of something dropping. 

“Did anyone else hear that?” I asked. They all nod. All of the sudden a boom was sounded. All of us jump up.

“Was that a bomb?” Tara asked. 

“Yes. Not one big enough to do damage but enough to scare people.” Spencer states.  we grab our vests putting them on running in the ship. All the kids we’re coming out in the hallway now. 

“Okay we have to get this ship clear. Tara, JJ get this floor and the 2nd. Y/N, Matt, get the 4th and 5th  floor up. Rossi and Alvez get to the 6th floor. If anyone needs help, help them. Spencer you and I will go find where these people are coming from and shooting. No one gets off this ship until every kid is safe. Do I repeat myself?” She said. All of us say yes retracting our gun and leaving to get everyone out safely. Not before I stop Spencer. 

“Spencer, please stay safe.” I say softly. 

“Y/N, I need you to stay safe too okay?” I nod. 

“I love you.” Platonic. 

“I love you.” Platonic. We walk out opposite ways. Matt and I walk quickly to the 4th floor. It’s one of the teaching floors. 

“Okay I get this side of the hallway. You get this side. Call me if you need anything.” I say. He nods before we split up. I walk to the first classroom taking a deep breath. 

“Everyone this is not a drill I’m going to ask you all to stand. I will be leading you to the stairs. I need you to walk down one flight. Where you will find the exit. You need to get off this boat as quickly as you can. We do not have time to play around.” I say everyone got up quickly leaving. I show them where to go and all of them walk down the stairs. 

“Ma’am can you tell me what’s going on?” a teacher asked me. 

“I can not at this time once I know everyone is safely off this ship and we have gotten the people we are looking for then I will be able to tell everyone but for now I’m sorry I can’t say anything.” I sigh. She nods understandingly and walks down the steps. ‘This was going to be a long process.’ I walk into the next classroom, before hearing someone call my name. I turn around and see Sam standing there. 

“Um hi?” I asked. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting everyone off the ship.” I said, he lets out a deep chuckle. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.” he says, taking out a gun. Holy shit. Where the fuck did that come from. I pull my gun out as well. 

“Put your gun down.” I say 

“No.”

“If you don’t put your gun down I will shoot you.” I say. He laughs clutching the trigger about to pull. It was like time slowed down. Even though I was wearing my vest, I still couldn’t move until I heard the sound of the gun go off and I fell to the floor. I hear another shot and see Matt running over towards me. I let out a groan, as I sat up. I see Sam lying on the ground muttering words ‘the ring’ before passing out. I stand up, feeling the pain rush to my side. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, I nod

“What are we going to do with him. We can’t let people see him.” 

“I’ll call Emily.” so I do exactly that. I explain the situation to her, she tell me to see if theirs another hallway to use and to block off the other one. So I do exactly that. I block off the entrance to this hallway and start on the floor above me. 

SPENCER'S POV: 

I was standing in front of this large cannon that shoots off the bombs. I didn’t know what to do. This was the first time I didn’t know what to do.

“Are you going to do something?” Emily says. 

“I don’t know what to do.” I speak looking at her. 

“Is there any way you can stop this from going off?” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“Hey what are y'all doing in here?” I heard a loud voice yelling. Emily and I both quickly grab our guns out of our holsters. Turning around to face the man in front of us. He had his gun drawn too. 

“Sir. I will only say this once put the gun down.” he doesn’t say anything but slowly three more people walk in with their guns out as well. 

“Three against two.” he laughs, Emily takes the shot. Knocking one down. I clutch my gun harder. I shot the man to his side. Knocking him down. Only leaving the buff guy standing in front of us. I was quick but not fast enough, the man shot at me. Hitting me in the neck. All I felt was pain and suddenly I was seeing black. 

Your POV: 

I grabbed the last group of people rushing out with them, hearing gunshots coming from the ship. I rush towards the exit seeing I’m the last person in the exit. That was until I heard my phone going off. I pull it out my back pocket seeing an unknown number. I raise my eyebrows pushing my phone to my ear. 

“Hello?” I ask

“Ah just the voice I wanted to hear.” I heard a voice say. It sounded like a girl. 

“Who is this?” I asked my voice laced with worry. 

“The one and only… leader of the pack. Or well, cult.” she laughs. 

“What do you want?” I asked. 

“For you to meet me. At hmmm.” she said thinking for a second. 

“5:30. At the cafe on the lido deck. I want it to be you and you only. No weapons, no vest. If you don’t I will kill everyone.” she laughed before hanging up. I look at my phone before looking around. 5:15. I sigh walking to my group seeing Spencer missing. 

“Guys.” I panic. 

“What’s wrong Y/N.” Tara said. 

“I just got a call from someone, they told me to meet them at the cafe at 5:30. If I don’t go alone then, she’ll start killing people.” I said. 

“You can’t.” Luke said. 

“I have to. She will kill people. There are innocent kids here. I can’t know that I’m the reason why they’re dead.” I paced back and forth. My breathing became heavy. I was having a panic attack. I could feel my breath getting caught in my throat every time I tried to talk. Tears stung my eyes. 

“Hey, hey drink this.” someone brought me a water bottle. I drink it before calming down. 

“Where’s Spencer-” I got caught off guard with the sound of my phone going off. 

“Hey Y/N. You’re times getting low. You have five minutes to get here before I start killing people.” I had the phone on speaker phone so everyone could hear not long after that statement I heard the phone go dead. 

“Listen you have to go in there. You have that necklace on. It’s a microphone, we'll use it to hear everything and we’ll be down here ready to move up okay?” Emily said, trying to calm the nerves going on right now. 

“Once you have her repeat these words ‘the blood will be all over your hands.’ and we’ll come in.” I nod and start making my way before turning around and taking off my vest. I feel my head start to spin a little bite. But I just set my gun down on the table along with my vest. Walking towards the ship again. This couldn’t be happening and where the hell is Spencer. I walk into the elevator and make my way to the top deck. I feel my stomach bubble as I see the floors going up. Deck Nine. The elevator read. I make my way to the only cafe on this floor. I open the door making my way in seeing it being completely empty. 

“Well, well, well it’s so good to see you again Y/N.” I make eye contact with her and that’s when it hit me. 

“Ma’am can you tell me what’s going on?” a teacher asked me. 

“I can not at this time once I know everyone is safely off this ship and we have gotten the people we are looking for then I will be able to tell everyone but for now I’m sorry I can’t say anything.” I sigh. She nods understandingly and walks down the steps.

The teacher from earlier. How could I not notice her voice earlier. My head really hurt and my stomach was hurting more. My head started to sweat in no time. 

“Oh baby, you look sick. Sit down.” she said, pulling me down in a seat. I just there feeling all my strength slip away from me quickly. 

“So how do you feel.” she was gloating. 

“What the hell did you do to me?” 

“Well baby, to tell you I’m going to have to get into a deep back story. Is that okay? Well honestly I don’t really care if it’s enough. You’re going to have to deal with it if you want the antidote to this little situation.” she purs. I don’t say anything, I just sit there and listen. 

“It all started in 1850. Everyone in the society has been in the society since 1850, they’re relatives have been in the cult -if you will- since then. The only way to leave is by death. So your kids won’t be in it. But that’s not how Marcus, Jamie, and Xander went oh no. They went better than that. See, I’m not the leader. Marcus is and the only way I could even be close to being the leader is by killing them. They we’re the highest authority. -per-say- so killing them meant that I could take off as the leader. It is so thrilling the thought of being in control. I guess that’s why Doms love being in control. Are you in control? Or are you a sub?” she asked. I couldn’t even think. 

“I asked a question. Answer me.” she demanded. 

“I guess I’m a sub.” I coughed out. My head spinning at the thought of talking. 

“Good. Now that you answered a question I’ll anser a question truthfully.” 

“What did you do to me?” I could barley let that out.

“Oh, I poisoned you. Just like everyone out there who drank that water you did.” 

“You poisoned me?” I gasped. She nods letting out a laugh

“You, and that pretty boyfriend of yours.” My head snapped up. 

“What.” I cracked out. 

“Oh yeah. One of my men, Jack shot him in the neck. His bullet was laced with Snake Poison.You’re very lucky if he’s still alive right now.” I couldn’t process this, within seconds my head was pounding and tears were slipping out of my eyes. 

“Why are you doing this now? Why didn’t you stop when you killed the guys?” I sobbed. 

“Because sweetie. You’re interfering on my society. I don’t like when people are noisy, so I’m trying to kill you off.” 

“But you left us a note.” 

“I didn’t really think you would see it. That’s bad planning in my case but hey, here you are now. Dying.” she laughs. I look her deep in the eyes before saying

“The blood will be all over your hands.” before sitting back waiting for my group to come walking in. I wait for a minute but they don’t come in. I sit there looking at the door no one comes in. 

“Oh you think that little ‘safe word’ is going to work. Sweetie you’re lucky I don’t just shoot you dead for playing a trick on me like that. I know about your little necklace.” She talks smoothly, leaving the room for a minute. I sit there for a second trying to gain about as much strength as I can before standing up. I move to the side of the room, hiding. She walks out a smirk present on her face, but when she doesn’t see me it immediately drops. I walk around to where she can’t see me and run at her. Hitting her dead in the back of the throat. She groans, dropping to the floor. I grab her throwing punches the best I could at her. She grabs her gun from her boot and aims it at me, I grab the tip of it taking all my strength to turn it around, before soon it’s turned on her, and without even thinking I pull the trigger. I grab the gun out of her limp hands and walk back to the room. I see a guy with glasses typing at a computer. I sneekly sneak up on him pointing the gun at his head. 

“Where the hell is the antidote.” I spat cocking the gun. 

“Right-right here.” he stuttered. I laugh before shooting his arm letting him fall. I use what’s left of my strength and get the hell off the ship. I finally see my team and a bunch of worried looks on their faces, kids all around us looked just like me. They were pale, coughing. They looked dead. When I finally reach them I drop to the ground falling in Matt’s arms before muttering. 

“Antidote. Cafe. Computer Room. Groaning.” and after all that I pass out. 

-- 

I wake up later, a groan escaping my lips. I look around seeing the fluorescent lights shine over my eyes and the white room. I pull my legs over the bed seeing I’m still in my work clothes. I take everything off me and walk into the waiting room. I see everyone sitting there except Spencer. 

“Where’s Spencer.” my voice croaked. 

“Y/N.” Garcia runs up hugging me and giving me little kisses all over my face. Everyone else hugged me and told me that they’re happy I’m okay. 

“Where is Spencer.” my voice was more worried now. 

“He’s in his room. He got out of surgery about an hour after we got here. He’s going to be okay Y/N. I promise.” Emily smiled at me. 

“What room?” 

“255.” I nod and walk to his room. My head still hurts slightly, but I put the pain to the side and walk right in. I see him sleeping, so I softly grab his hand taking it into mine. I watch him sleep peacefully. I just take this time to admire him. His nose was perfect, his lips were beautiful and any girl would be jealous to have those types of lips. His hair fell right at his ear and was curly, always messy, but my favorite. I loved everything about him. The way he would make me happy when I was sad. The way he can randomly spit out facts at the worst time, the way when he says ‘I love you’ his nose scrunches and he licks his lips. I loved everything about him, more importantly I loved him, and almost losing him today made me realize that. It made me realize how utterly lucky I am to have such a platonic relationship with. His hands tighten around mine pulling my attention to the man in front of me. I sigh seeing his eyes open looking at me. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me. 

“How much I love you.” I said before even realizing. His eyes lit up when I said it thought. 

“I love you.” I said. 

“I love you too.” he laughed. 

“NO I mean I love you. Like I love you, and almost losing you today is making me realize I can’t lose you again. That or maybe it’s me coming off the drugs I don’t know, but please never scare me like that again.” I feel tears leave my eyes. His thumbs come pressing the pad of his thumb against my cheek wiping away the tears. He brings my face close to his and whispers “I love you too.” I didn’t say anything. I just pressed a kiss against his lips, and as cliche as it sounds when I say I felt butterflies I mean I feel butterflies. I finally pull away before looking him in the eyes and laughing. 

“I thought I told you not to get hurt.” We both laugh as he pulls me into him again.

I guess this wasn’t such a platonic relationship.

[fanfictionandmore]

To Kreizler's | Laszlo Kreizler [One-Shot]

Thick snowflakes were falling to the already covered ground. The snow squeaked as I walked, and the bitterly cold wind stung my face. Tears were blurring my vision. All I wanted to do was give up; collapse in the middle of the abandoned road and give up. 'It's okay. You're almost there.' I said inside of my head. It felt like an eternity as I fought against the elements to get to my destination. But eventually I did get there. I used the doorbell and waited. Thankfully I had a little protection from the wind and snow on the porch I was standing on. The door opened to reveal my best friend. "Y/n, what are you doing out at this time of night in such horrible weather?" He said as he gestured for me to come inside. I walked into the warm home, but I still felt cold. After he closed and locked the door behind me he noticed the tears in my eyes. He slowly pulled me into a tight, yet gentle hug. I nuzzled into his warm body and breathed in his comforting scent. We stayed like that for a moment before he silently lead me into the sitting room. I removed my jacket and he wrapped a soft blanket around me. The heat from the fireplace thawed my cold body as I sat there with him next to me.

Laszlo didn't even have to ask me what was wrong; he already knew, because we've been through this king of thing before. But I've never showed up to him home this late at night. I could tell that that really concerned him. "I can't stand seeing you like this. From now on you can stay here with Stevie, Cyrus, and I." He said as he gently rubbed my back with one of his hands. "Thank you, Laszlo. You've been so kind to me for a very long time. How can I ever repay you?" I said as I wiped the tears from my face. "You don't have to repay me, Y/n. You're my friend and genuinely care about your well being." He said with a soft look in his beautiful brown eyes. I gave him a side hug, squeezing him gently. He placed one of his hands in my head and started playing with my hair. I felt so safe and comfortable with him. After we broke the hug he lead me to a bedroom where I could spend the night. Unfortunately I knew I'd have to go back and get my belongings tomorrow, but at least I was safe for now. Laszlo gave me one of his nightgowns to borrow for the night. It smelled like him, which was wonderful. We said goodnight to each other before I climbed into the surprisingly warm bed. I was still a little nervous from what had happened. Although, I tomorrow was uncertain It didn't take me long to fall into a deep sleep.

I woke up to a lovely breakfast that Cyrus made for all of us. The food was delicious and so was the coffee. "I asked Marcus and Lucius to join us when we go to collect your things. I thought that if there was a police presence your father wouldn't attempt to do anything." Laszlo said as we finished eating. "I'm coming too. I might be reformed from my thieving days, but I ain't called the stevepipe for nothing." Stevie said. Laszlo gave him a concerned look but didn't say anything. I think he too figured it wouldn't hurt to bring him along. Once the horses were attached to the clash we left for my old home. 'I wonder if my father will be sitting there waiting on me.' I thought on our way. I'm sure Laszlo noticed that I was feeling a little uneasy, because he reached across to give my hand a gentle squeeze. When I glanced up at him I saw that his eyes were filled with sympathy. I gave him a small smile of appreciation. Eventually the calash started slowing down, which only made my nervousness worse. When we got out I spotted a cab stop nearby as well. Marcus and Lucius Isaacson stepped out. We said hellos and asked how we had been; introductions weren't needed, but we hadn't seen each other in a while.

"So, what's the plan?" Cyrus asked curiously. "I think it's best if we knock on the door first. If we present our badges then it's less likely for him to resort to violence." Marcus said. Everyone agreed with that idea. I didn't want to get hurt, but I really didn't want my friends to get hurt. The Isaacson brothers walked up to the front door and knocked. It took a while, but my father eventually opened the door. Marcus and Lucius introduced themselves to my father, and he got a little angry especially when he spotted me. "We can take you down to the station for what you've been doing to Y/n." Lucius threatened. After what felt like forever we were able to go inside and collect my belongings. When everything got dropped off at Laszlo's home we ended up going out to lunch. John and Sara ended up joining us as well, which was really nice. All of the jokes and stories they were telling me got me into a better mood. I was just happy that I wouldn't have to live with my father anymore. I wouldn't have to deal with all of the stuff he has put me through for years anymore. But I knew I'd still have to deal with the psychological damage and trauma he has caused me. Luckily I have an Alienist as a best friend.

++++++++++++ A/N: Thanks for reading!

[her-culture]

2021 and the Rise of Shopping BIPOC, LGBTQI+, Small, and Womxn-Owned

Now more than ever, a collective way of life has been prioritized: shopping from small businesses, particularly those owned by the marginalized. The reason? A mix of a few things, like that of the coronavirus pandemic putting small businesses in every industry in an increasingly vulnerable spot, the rising importance of the Black Lives Matter movement, and the collective awareness of how capitalism has contributed to the downfall of so many communities.

When the pandemic hit, a lot of folks were down on their luck financially. They needed whatever avenue of income they could find to help keep them on their feet, which resulted in them opening small businesses selling their art, jewelry, and more. Shopping small and dining locally was also one of the main efforts done by the collective to ensure community staples wouldn’t have to shut down due to the lack of revenue and financial support throughout the pandemic. 

During the height of BLM last summer, one of the ways that folks rallied together to give aid and support to different mutual aid funds, bail funds, and BLM funds was by selling homemade items and giving 100% of the proceeds to these different organizations. With this, there have been threads on Twitter and infographics on Instagram sharing different black-owned small businesses so that folks could directly support the black community.

It’s interesting to see how the rise of social media networks helped pave the way for this, too. Instagram and Facebook both have sections where anyone can sell their products - Facebook marketplace has everything from new and used cars, clothing, furniture, jewelry, and so much more. Instagram (though widely criticised) has updated their formatting so that anyone who uses their platform to sell items gets boosted in ads, and their shopping section is easier to find. Instagram is most accessible for businesses because they don’t charge a service fee like other sites (Etsy, Shopify, etc.) - 100% of the profits goes right back to the shop owner.

Social media sites like TikTok and Twitter have assisted this wave as well. “It costs $0 to retweet my art/business” tweets go viral almost daily, and TikTok itself is filled with trends small businesses love to use to help boost their brand on the algorithm. More recently, brands of all kinds started doing “pack an order with me” TikToks to add a more personalized feel to their business, where consumers get excited to see if their order is one of the ones that gets packaged on the ForYouPage.

Shopping small and from the folks who could use the support most is an incredible way of how community works. It directly supports the dreams and efforts of the folks who put their all into what they make. If it is possible for you, I encourage you to try to shop small and from BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color), LGBTQI+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, and more), and womxn-owned spots instead of larger corporations. Aiding in the journeys of the folks who took a chance on themselves and started their small business could change everything for them - every dollar could unlock a world of chance.

For those who are interested, here’s a list of a few small businesses (organized by business type) that you can check out and support!

Lifestyle:

Nguyen Coffee Supply - This Vietnamese coffee company was founded by Sahra Nguyen, a first-generation Vietnamese-American who set out to teach about the true quality and production of coffee beans in Vietnam. Partnering with a fourth-generation farmer in Central Valley back in Vietnam, they provide ethically sourced coffee beans to folks worldwide. To purchase Nguyen Coffee or learn more about their efforts, you can shop at https://nguyencoffeesupply.com/ and visit their social media sites @nguyencoffeesupply.

Hungry Bunny - A black, womxn-owned business, this virtual donut shop started in March 2020 as a result of the coronavirus pandemic by Khloe Hines. All products are vegan and cruelty free, not using any dairy, eggs, or yeast! To place orders visit their website https://www.hungrybunnyict.com/ and support their social media @hungrybunny.

Hood Herbalism - A center for learning, this community herbal education project is perfect for BIPOC folks wanting to learn about the benefits of herbalism and how to incorporate it into their lives. Courses range from the basics of herbalism to herbal medicine works for birth support. They offer online courses with payment plans, accommodations, and scholarship funds to support those in need! This project space is intended for BIPOC folks, as herbal schools are predominantly white. To donate to their project or enroll in classes, visit https://hoodherbalism.com/ and follow their social media at @hoodherbalism.

Indigescuela - This BIPOC-led space is dedicated to teaching womxn and folks about intentional healing through the avenues of holistic sexual health, womb health, and traditional healing. Using the knowledge and practices of herbalism, Mexican folk healing, and Mesoamerican medicine, Panquetzani (also the foundress of Indigemama: Ancestral Healing) leads students to finding the healing answers they need to lead as their best selves. The courses range in topics from lifelong self-womb care and womb wellness. To enroll in the online distance courses, head to https://indigescuela.com/ and support their social media at @indigescuela.

Bookstores:

Nā Mea Hawai’i - Meaning all things to do with Hawai’i, Native Books is a space created to share Hawaiian culture through education. If you are based in Hawai’i, or have the opportunity to visit post-pandemic, this is definitely a place to stop by! They support local artisans of all kinds in efforts to uplift their community and all that the Islands have to offer. They have dedicated their space to sharing this knowledge, education, and experiences to all who stop by, virtually and in-person. Shop their website https://www.nativebookshawaii.org/ and follow them @na_mea_hawaii.

Raven Reads - This bookstore is indigenous and womxn-owned, which began as an effort to share history and inspire folks as a result of what residential schools did to the indegnous communities in Canada, where languages and ways of life were washed away over the years. They offer collection boxes for children and adults, where each season a curated box will be sent to you filled with Indegenous works. To shop, support, and learn more, their website is https://ravenreads.org/ and their social media is @raven_reads.

Strong Nations - The online retailer is centered around idigenous literature and art, where their products range from children’s toys to classroom materials and, of course, literature. They are also a publishing house, offering a range of services for those interested. They also offer a wide variety of bundles in different categories! Each item on their shop has a badge on it to signify if it is indegnous art, a Canadian product, or indegnous text. If you are looking for indenous literature or works of different kinds, materials for your classroom, and more, stop by https://www.strongnations.com/ or @strong_nations.

Marcus Books - The first black-owned bookstore in the nation, Marcus Books is filled with history and the desire to educate and make space for black folks and all allies. Their goals of using literature to educate and unite communities has served folks in and around the San Francisco Bay Area (based in Oakland, CA) and nationwide through their online store. They have books for all ages in every genre by an array of black and latinx authors. To support, their website is https://bookshop.org/shop/marcusbooks or visit their social media @marcus.books.

Loving Me Books - A black and womxn-owned shop, Angela Nesbitt created this online bookstore to promote self-love amongst children of all races and backgrounds. Books are available for all age ranges and in a variety of languages! They also sell children’s clothing and accessories. There is a section for adult books, as well! Check out https://www.lovingmebooks.com/ and @lovemebooks for your next book.

Skincare:

Alma Bella - Meaning “beautiful soul” in Spanish, this womxn-owned skincare business is the epitome of self care with a cause. Creator Hannah Bahls, based in Washington state, handmakes this heavenly coco cream and redistributes 100% of the net profit to different BIPOC-led social justice funds. With more products coming soon, they prioritize organic, ethically sourced and traded, and natural ingredients. Each month, she chooses a new organization to give the proceeds to. To learn more about Alma Bella, their product and mission, head over to https://alma-bella.square.site/ or their Instagram @almabellanourish to learn more about how they emphasize self and community care.

HanaHana Beauty - Sustainable, clean beauty that uplifts womxn of color. All products are made with natural ingredients and oils, like fair-trade shea butter. They source their shea butter from the Katariga Women’s Shea Cooperative in Ghana. The black and womxn-owned shop includes body butters, bars, lip balms, and exfoliating cleansers. To buy, head to their site https://hanahanabeauty.com/ and follow at @hanahana_beauty.

BrownSugga Beauty - Black owned, vegan beauty for all skin types. Offering a variety of products from sugar scrubs to oil serums, body butters and soap bars, the New Orleans based online business is your one-stop-shop for healing and maintaining beautiful, healthy skin. Shop now at https://brownsuggabeautycompany.com/ and follow them at @brownsuggabeauty_.

Haípažaža pĥežúta - Meaning “medicine soap” in Lakota, this indegnous-owned skin care from Lakota folks sells soaps and herbal products nationwide. They utilize organic ingredients harvested from the homelands as well as fair-trade ingredients from across the world to create healthy, intentional products. The products range from soaps, shampoos, rubs, perfumes, bath bombs, scrubs, and more. (They even offer refills of some of these products)! To purchase, find them at https://www.haipazazaphezuta.com/ and @haipazaza.

Beauty:

Live Tinted - Founded by Deepica Mutlaya, Live Tinted is a brand dedicated to inclusion and diversity within the beauty industry. They use their platform to highlight multicultural beauty - giving space to voices and stories of those often underrepresented in the industry. Their products range from ethically sourced merchandise, huesticks, and gorgeous illuminators. Take a peek for yourself at https://www.livetinted.com/ and @livetinted on their different social media platforms.

Sahi Cosmetics - This small, family-owned cosmetics company has been taking the beauty industry by storm. Founder Shelly Sahi started Sahi cosmetics as a way to change the beauty standards we have become accustomed to after growing up feeling like her Indian skin wasn’t beautiful enough and always had trouble finding products that matched her complexion. Committed to their clean beauty promise, all of their products are cruelty and paraben free, with vegan friendly ingredients. An array of makeup and innovative products and ideas that will surely leave you obsessed! They also offer some clothing merchandise as well. Check them out at select retailers, their website https://sahicosmetics.com/ and their social media @sahicosmetics.

Queltzin Cosmetics - An indegenous-owned beauty brand specializing in fake lashes, all of their products are named after Aztec gods and goddesses as well as Nahuatl words to honor and educate folks about their indegenous heritage. Aside from lashes and lash tools, they offer some apparel and makeup accessories and tools, as well. Shop at https://queltzincosmetics.com/ and visit them at @queltzincosmetics.

Sweet Street Cosmetics - A Latina/womxn-owned cosmetics company that honors the around-the-way aesthetic. This brand was built by Natalia Durazo and LaLa Romero, who also co-founded the clothing company Bella Doña. their brand honors the beauty strides made by womxn of color and celebrates all the uniqueness and individuality that comes with it. Their products include a highly praised liquid liner, lip duos, eyeshadows, and lashes. Shop now at https://www.sweetstreetcosmetics.com/ and follow them @sweetstreetcosmetics.

Clothing: 

Wasi Clothing - A Quechuan word meaning “hope,” Wasi is a brown-owned Bolivian-American clothing company founded and run completely by Vanessa Acosta. This business is dedicated to ethical and sustainable products and processes, as well as diverse representation in the fashion world. Their products are unique and there truly is something for everyone here, as their shop includes everything from clothing to accessories to accessories and prints! You can shop their website at https://wasiclothing.com/ and follow at @wasiclothing.

OXDX Clothing - Diné owned label, this indegnous brand offers merchandise to represent Native peoples and honor their experiences. Their mission includes preserving culture to art, clothing, creative content and storytelling. Their shop has unique pieces of clothing, art, and stickers. Shop at https://www.oxdxclothing.com/ and support them at @oxdxclothing.

Ginew - That Native-owned denim line honors the founders’ Ojibwe, Oneida, & Mohican heritage through the materials and concepts utilized to create their products. Their shop ranges from denim products (jackets, jeans, etc.) as well as unique jewelry, bandanas, and more. Shop all things Ginew on their website https://ginewusa.com/ and follow at @ginew_usa.

Art: 

Hafandhaf - This Pakistani-born and Detroit raised artist uses her South Asian and Muslim roots to create art that reflexts her experinces and the life around her. She uses her background studying the Quran and Arabic and incorporates it into her work. She offers commissions, as well as prints. Many of her pieces were turned into other merchandise, like clothing, mugs, stickers, and accessories. To shop, visit https://hafandhaf.com/ and follow their social media @hafandhaf.

Adinas Doodles - Kichwa artist Adina Farinango creates Kichwa diasporic art. In hopes to heal and reclaim her Kichwa roots and her identity as an idigenous womxn, her art is a form of resistance. Her one of a kind art is available in prints, stickers, and on totes! Shop https://www.adinafarinango.com/ and follow @adinasdoodles.

Accessories: 

BRWNGRLZ - The Pinay-owned jewelry company specializes in laser cut pieces that represent and honor Pilipinx heritage and brown pride. These unique, astounding pieces are only found at BRWNGRLZ. This space honors the stories of Pilpinx-identify folks while uplifting the voices of BIPOC folks everywhere. To support and shop, visit www.brwngrlz.com/ and follow at @brwngrlz.

Customized by Angelisa - Polynesian-owned customizable shop that does everything from trays to accessories! This shop is perfect for customized gifts and pieces for your space! Angelisa’s shop has rolling and coffee trays, resin jewelry, keychains, tumblers, and music player plaques. To shop and customize your own pieces, head to https://www.etsy.com/shop/customizedbyangelisa/ and @cbangelisa.

Spirituality:

Stari Agency - Run by Yakari Gabriel, Stari Agency is an Afro-Latina business regarding all things astrology. Yakari offers birth chart readings, transit readings, and follow ups. She aims to help you heal and learn more about you as you navigate your life’s journey. To book and learn more about these services, you can visit https://stariagency.com/ and @stariagency.

The Woke Mystix - Podcasters and authors Ellen and Imani create space for folks to find themselves in astrology, spirituality, and divinity. This WOC-owned business co-wrote Astrology SOS: An astrological survival guide to life, which releases on March 2, 2021. To listen to their podcast and learn more about their work, check out https://www.thewokemystix.com/ and @thewokemystix.

Dian Tala Crystals - This Filipinx-womxn owned crystal shop was created in hopes of offering affordable and accessible means of crystals and their healing properties. In efforts to offer exploration into intuition and personal guidance, this shop holds a variety uniquely cut crystals while teaching followers the properties of each. All funds go directly to the owner’s tuition, as well as direct relief funds to their family’s provinces when the recent typhoon hit the Philippines. To shop and support, follow their Instagram shops @diantalacrystals and @diantalasales.

Farial Eliza (she/her) is a twenty-one year old Bay Area native, occupying unceded Chochenyo Ohlone land. She is a writer, poet, creator, storyteller, self-proclaimed healer and educator to the communities she serves.

[statusquoergo]

It’s been one hell of a ride, but we’re in the home stretch now; this episode is basically Part I of a two-part series finale, so apologies in advance for the cliffhanger.

Except that if you don’t like being held in suspense, you can just watch the promo for “One Last Con” (s09e10). Spoiler alert: Everything’s going to be fine.

Keeping true to form, this episode opens on a flashback to both illuminate and slightly alter canon as it’s already been established: Nonspecific-childhood-age Harvey is playing in “the most important game of [his] life” as Lily looks on, cheering loudly despite Harvey’s face falling at the distinct lack of Gordon by her side. After the game ends, Harvey yells at his mother for…coming to the game in the first place? It’s weird and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but I can sort of let it slide because Harvey is an immature preteen. Or teenager, I don’t know. What I’m not going to give a by is Lily saying she’s “doing the best [she] can” to keep their family together with Gordon on the road so much, being that we know she’s cheating on her husband while he’s “working his butt off for [his family],” although seeing as how I don’t see Bobby at the funeral, maybe we’re supposed to casually forget about that thing she did that gave Harvey all those trust issues and caused him to estrange himself from his family all those years that the “Previously On” summary specifically reminded us about and that she never apologized for or acknowledged was wrong of her in any way.

Okay. Now. This funeral is clearly meant to be touching and emotionally stirring. You may find it to be so. I did not. I wanted to; I adore a really well-crafted funeral scene, but…what can I say. It didn’t happen. And I’m writing it up how I experienced it, so just…keep that in mind, if you would.

Harvey begins his eulogy by talking about inheriting his love of baseball from his father and how, up until recently, he always associated thoughts of the game with him. In truth, however, his mother was the one who “took [him] to every practice, cheered [him] on every game”; “she was always there, even when [he] thought she wasn’t.” It’s at this moment that he sees Mike standing in the back of the audience and has to pause to collect himself, which is quite lovely and very well-timed to parallel Lily with post-Seattle Mike in Harvey’s life, which is a little awkward, but it’s nice that they’re trying to convey how important Mike is to him. I don’t really understand why Harvey has to drag Gordon in order to talk about how much he loves Lily, but maybe he’s only allowed one good parent at a time, and it’s no wonder his childhood was so fucked up.

He mourns that “[he] didn’t know [she was always there] for a long time, but now [he does],” and the only thing I can think of that this might be referring to is her knowing about Donna, even though Harvey never mentioned her, because Lily and Marcus gossiped about Harvey behind his back, so…that’s nice? He then says that “she always owned [her mistakes],” and I’m pretty sure this is the biggest reason I’m having such a hard time feeling anything but exasperation and confusion at this whole event. Harvey is clearly struggling to hold himself together and Gabriel is doing a great job of selling it and I know I’m supposed to feel sad right along with him, but I’ve never been particularly moved by Harvey and Lily’s relationship or their reconciliation, so now that Lily’s dead, I as a viewer am primarily relieved that the show isn’t going to have any more opportunities to try to force me to like her just because she’s Harvey’s mother. I’ve long been frustrated that she never took responsibility for her affair, not to mention the fact that she guilted Harvey into lying about it for her, and this show keeps trying to substitute the fact that Harvey forgave her for her owning up to what she did, but they’re not the same thing. Now Harvey’s the one to apologize for not reconnecting with her sooner, choking out a final “I’ll miss you and I’ll always love you”; the benediction is about forgiveness because of course it is, and we cut right past the actual burial to the reception. Probably for logistical reasons, so that’s fair.

Mike approaches Harvey to assure him that “it was a beautiful eulogy” and “she would have loved it,” and I don’t know if anyone else was worried that they were going to totally whitewash the way Mike and Harvey left things at the end of “If the Shoe Fits” (s09e05), because I was, and they absolutely did:

“Listen, Harvey, uh about what I said the last time I was here—” “Don’t worry about it. You being here now says everything.”

Everything? Are you sure about that?

Anyway Donna interrupts this touching moment to inform Harvey that Marcus needs him, leaving Mike to ask Donna to “give it to [him] straight” about how bad everything really is; she confides that “this couldn’t have come at a worse time” because of the whole Faye thing, and they’re really putting the pedal to the metal to make her out to be a villain before the end of the series, but seriously, she’s just there to get them to stop breaking the law and committing disbarrable offenses every forty-five minutes, it’s not her fault that’s the only way they know how to practice. Donna has an idea of how to fix everything, but it involves Mike forgiving everyone for what happened on the Brick Street case, not just Harvey, and like I get Mike being in a position to forgive Samantha for fabricating evidence against him, but doesn’t he need to apologize for the whole…everything he did? Maybe Harvey prefers to forgive people who don’t apologize to him; that sure would explain some stuff.

In the other room, Harvey and Marcus commiserate over not being ready for Lily’s death as Harvey laments that they had been making plans for her to come to New York and meet Donna (naturally), and Marcus gives Harvey an envelope he found on Lily’s desk that she must not have gotten around to mailing. Gee I wonder if those two things are related.

Samantha and Louis murmur about how touching the funeral was, Louis tossing out a casual mention that he “[doesn’t] ever want to see Superman laid so low,” when Mike approaches to have a word with Samantha; he’s sorry she was fired and she, with the benefit of hindsight, would’ve done things differently, and he doesn’t have a plan yet, but between the two of them, “if [she’s] willing to bury the hatchet, [he’s] pretty sure the two of [them] can come up with something to send that woman packing.” Anything short of actually quitting committing disbarrable offenses, I suppose.

A few days later, probably, Harvey emerges from his bedroom to assure Donna that he’s okay and she “[doesn’t] need to stay here with [him],” just in time for Mike to show up with the episode’s first major callback: “Somebody call for Robin? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I saw the Bat-Signal last night.” Take that, Louis, with your Superman reference. No, it’s very cute, the banter is much better than it was the last time around. Mike says he’s here to return the favor of Harvey being there for him when Grammy died, and sadly no, that doesn’t mean they’re going to stay up late getting high together; instead Donna third-wheels her way into the conversation to translate that Mike is going to help them get rid of Faye, oh and by the way Donna was the one who put him up to it (but “at least [she] didn’t put him up to pretending to be a lawyer,” and no, please, I’m not at all sick of this stupid joke).

Seems that for the week Harvey and Donna have been Out Of Office, Katrina and Gretchen have been doing their best to cover for them at the firm, so that’s good of them. It does kind of bolster my theory that Donna doesn’t have any special qualifications for her job, though. Then Samantha shows up unannounced in Faye’s office and I don’t know if the security guards let Mike up because they know him, or he never turned in his badge, or what’s going on here, but he arrives to explain that Samantha wasn’t announced because she’s here as his guest (how), being that he’s representing her in a wrongful termination suit. Faye immediately determines that this is a ploy to get rid of her and Samantha doesn’t exactly disagree, but then Mike claims that Faye has no proof of anything that Samantha did, and Samantha brags that even though Faye “came in here and took Robert’s reputation, Louis’s dignity, and [her] everything,” they’re going to have the last laugh because “one of [them] is finally getting [their] day in court.” (I mean Robert kind of tanked his own reputation and it was Samantha’s decision to fabricate the evidence that got her fired, but… Never mind.)

Strolling down the hall, Louis finds Harvey back at his desk and pauses for Harvey to explain that Mike and Samantha are filing a wrongful termination suit and he doesn’t want to miss the “fireworks.” Faye pops in to further clarify her role as the Big Bad Antagonist by offering her condolences for Harvey’s loss so that he can tell her to keep them because he knows she “[doesn’t] give a shit about [him] or [his] mom” (so much for that whole humanizing plotline about “crossing a line” to protect her daughter); she then boxes them into representing her by promising that if they can win her case without colluding, cheating, or “telling the other side about this,” she’ll leave because “[she’ll] know [her] job here is done.” Right, because wins in court are always an objective reflection of how well one side argued over the other, and no judge or jury in history has ever rendered an unpredictable verdict for personal reasons or anything.

In any event, Faye stalks out with the declaration that she’s already filed a motion to dismiss and “will have someone in chambers this afternoon” (most judges are significantly overworked and can take several years to address such a motion) and Harvey informs Louis that “if [he thinks Harvey’s] gonna keep this from Donna, [he’s] out of [his] mind.” Donna shows up at just exactly the right moment to hear Harvey’s proclamation, giving Louis the opening he needs to tell her to brace herself because they “have some things to tell [her], most important of which is [they’re] representing Faye,” and whoever wrote that line has to be the same person who wrote Harvey’s “some of which you know, some of which you don’t” bit from “Cairo” (s09e04) and that doesn’t mean anything important but it’s just really irritating that this syntax structure is coming up again considering how bad it is.

Donna immediately goes to fill Alex in on Harvey and Louis’s plight, the event conveyed to us the viewers by way of his quick recap of the scene we just witnessed (in a manner agonizingly reminiscent of Mike’s clumsy recaps at the beginning of “If the Shoe Fits” [s09e05]), and asks him to please look into whether “Faye can really take [them] down” because even though Harvey says he can handle this, she’s worried about his frame of mind because of the whole his-mother-just-died thing. Alex doesn’t think Faye is lying about her ability to do anything, but he promises to check.

Apparently Faye did somehow manage to get her dismissal motion on front of a judge that very afternoon, but just as Mike’s moving to, uh, dismiss her dismissal, Harvey and Louis show up to present themselves as Faye’s counsel, much to Mike’s and Samantha’s surprise (or perhaps dismay at the writers’ inability to think of a way to justify Mike’s return if not to go up against Harvey again). Harvey presents a section of SLWW’s bylaws that makes it seem as though Faye had every right to fire Samantha for any reason she saw fit, but Mike busts out his eidetic memory for the first time since like Season 2 (second major callback!) to quickly rattle off a subsequent paragraph that counters that claim, and the judge not only denies the motion to dismiss, she “[moves] this up in [her] docket to the first available slot” (why).

In the alley out back (or maybe the street out front), Mike presumes that Harvey and Louis are representing Faye so they can help play both sides, but Harvey begrudgingly sets him straight, advising them to drop the case before Faye finds proof that Samantha fabricated evidence. He and Louis offer Samantha a $3M settlement, and Samantha, apparently quite confident in her ability to cover her tracks, tells them to shove it, but Mike interrupts that they’ll think about it. Maybe he can tell this is all super fishy and figures there’s another angle at play? Maybe he trusts Harvey after all? Some actual conversation to that effect might’ve been nice, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.

Back at the firm, Faye approaches Donna to ask where Gretchen is, and Donna lashes out at her for making Harvey represent her right after his mother died, and I mean fair enough, but Mike and Samantha did choose to file their lawsuit right after the funeral, and Harvey did choose to come back to work specifically to see the fallout; what did they think was going to happen? Donna then threatens that if Faye “[hurts] Harvey more than he’s already been hurt, mark [her] words, [she’ll] be the one coming for [Faye] next,” which is…kind of her? But like, what exactly does she think she’s going to be able to accomplish?

At Mike’s apartment, I think, as Mike and Samantha prepare for trial, Samantha proposes presenting herself as a sob story from the foster system who “overcame obstacles to make something of [herself],” but Mike is still suspicious of Harvey and Louis offering a deal when “they can’t stand Faye” and instead suggests making a counteroffer. Samantha’s all begrudgingly impressed that Mike “really [is] as good as they say,” and Mike reminds her that “the two guys [they’re] going up against are no fools either,” which are not words I ever imagined I’d hear come out of Mike’s mouth, but whatever, it’s time to get to work on that counter.

Part II

[annakie]

So this past weekend I went to GenCon for the second time.

GenCon is the largest gaming convention in the world with about 70k individual attendees every year, held in Indianapolis, Indiana.  The first time I went was in 2009, with a friend from the internet, and it was a blast.  This time I went with a bunch of my everyday friends, some of my favoritest people in the world, and it was even more fun.

Part one of my long recap, including lots of pictures, below.

SOME PRE-GENCON NOTES

Our group does love boardgames, but we do RPGs (like D&D) together even more.  D&D actually doesn't have a very big presence at GenCon.  There was some D&D going on, but it isn't a main focus of the con and my friends aren't super into 5e anyway.  (We're actually doing a 4e game right now since it's one friend's favorite system.)  

So when we signed up for events, we were trying hard to get into a bunch of Pathfinder stuff, especially Pathfinder 2, which was releasing the first day of GenCon.  We got into two events, but ended up filling more slots with Starfinder.  None of us were particularly interested in Starfinder, which is a Sci-Fi setting also put out by Paizio... it was always like "Eh, we might check Starfinder out sometime maybe." but we weren't that excited about it.  But since we had gotten into two games to fill up some timeslots, we decided to go ahead and at least learn the system ahead of time for those of us who'd be playing in the SF games.

That would be Marcus, who is our DM most of the time when we play RPGs, Jeremy, and Brian, who is Marcus' oldest daughter's fiancee.  We created characters the week before GenCon and got together twice to knock out some beginning level adventures.

What we didn't expect, at all, was to fall head over heels into Starfinder.  Three of us ended up picking the same race (Lashunta, who are basically Mantis from GotG) and decided our characters were siblings, then decided so was Brian's character, even though he was a Vesk... a lizard-man race.  Jeremy's Operative (Space Rogue/Pilot/smuggler)Zafo is the oldest, my Envoy (space bard/doctor/xenobiologist/archeologist) Vikiri, and Marcus' Technomancer (Space Wizard/Computer whiz/K-pop rockstar) Alissia are twin sisters, and Brian's Soldier Kronk (Space Meatshield/Master Chef) is our baby brother.

We fucking LOVE these characters and the whole world of Starfinder, and also our dear Father and Mother, who we always strive to make proud of us.  Starfinder is really so much fun and we're running official modules as we're a part of the Organized Play Starfinder Society and they're... so good?   Anyway, here we are, playing Starfinder for like six hours the Thursday night before Gencon because that's the only day we could physically be in the same room. (the other time we played via Discord.)

WEDNESDAY

So anyway, then we actually went to Gencon!  Jeremy and I got flights together and rooms (separate) at the same hotel to make travel more convenient.  Everyone else, which was Marcus, wife Laura, daughters Gwen and  Kirstyn and Kirstyn friend Ally, and Gwen's fiancee Brian, drove.  14 hours from Dallas to Indy... Jeremy and I have talked about it for next year, we'll see.

I took Wednesday off to finish packing and relax, and then just before Jeremy came to pick me up, our flight got delayed two hours.  We decided we'd then have time for a leisurely lunch instead of fast food, and so we went to one of my favorite places to eat, a Canadian cafe.  The service was slower than expected, but we were still tracking to be at the airport about an hour before our original takeoff time, three before our “new” takeoff time.

And then... while we were driving to the airport... our flight got UN-DELAYED.  What.  The.  Fuck.  

Our leisurely afternoon turned hectic as we got to the airport as fast as possible then, I checked in our bags while Jeremy parked the car, got in line in Security, and oh nooo the line was long.  I started to get nervous about making the flight.  Apparently, we weren't the only people who had done the same thing.

We hoofed it through the airport, though and made it to the gate with like 5 minutes to spare until boarding, just enough time to take a bathroom break and get a bottle of water.  We got on the flight though!  And sat there.  And sat there. And... sat there.  And then got kicked off the plane for an electrical issue.  Then sat in the gate for an hour or so until another airplane arrived.  Turns out, our flight ended up being delayed... about two hours.

ANYWAY.  We made it, de-planed at Indy, collected our bags, taxied to the hotel.  We were staying at a Red Roof Inn outside of the airport area, we were trying to do this cheap and with each of us paying for a hotel room, staying near downtown wasn't an option.  $65/night for a hotel is a lot better than $200+/night for being closer, especially when you can split Lyft fares.  (Could have rented a car but we did the math... especially factoring in parking at $20-30 a day plus the hotel charging for parking... much cheaper to Lyft everywhere.)

After settling into the hotel we had to go to the convention center and get our tickets.  I had my badge mailed to me, but all events require tickets and Marcus had ordered all our tickets... and you have to pick up your tickets yourself.  The Will Call line at 10pm on Wednesday night was... an hour and fifteen minutes long.  So we waited in that.  Nothing particularly cool or terrible happened, but it's just one of those GenCon experiences.  This year apparently 15% of the events had electronic tickets.  Next year that's supposed to go up to 75%.  Let's hope so.  The GenCon provided Wifi was actually pretty good.

We headed back to the hotel afterwards and were both hungry again at this point, so we ate at the only available option... Waffle House... at like 12:30 at night.  Seemed like a good way to end our first night, as long as we didn't get food poisoning.

...which we did not. :p

THURSDAY

So another fun thing about GenCon this year that we found out a day or two earlier is that the entire freeway from the Airport to downtown was going to be closed all weekend.  Adding lots of time to our commute (and thus $ to our Lyft fares, but we still saved money.)  So we got up extra early, discovered how terrible our hotel's free breakfast was (very... most days I had a cold bagel with a scraping of cream cheese and if I was lucky, a banana) and got a Lyft into town.  Except it took 30 minutes to get a Lyft.  From then on, we scheduled them ahead of time.  

But HEY!  Eventually, we were there!  We found the room for our first game and met Brian and eventually Marcus outside.  Our first scheduled game was Star Wars, the Fantasy Flight Games system (which is now known as Genesys).  This is a system that Marcus ran Jeremy and I and other friends a 2+ year campaign in, so the three of us were very familiar with the rules.   Kirstyn and Ally also joined us, and Kirstyn had played it once before.

So I've mentioned before that Jeremy, Marcus and I go to a local con called GamerNation Con every year.  Two years ago the guest of honor was a guy named Sterling Hershey who is a well-known loremaster for Star Wars and helped write the SWFFG system.  We played in a game he ran that year.  Hilariously, Sterling was our GM for this game, as well.  It was a good way to kick off the weekend.

Jeremy played a Jedi and I was his Padawan, Ally and Brian played Clone soldiers ( the game took place in the Clone Wars era) Kirstyn played a shark-race diplomat and Marcus was her "get it done" operative type.  

Ally, Marcus and Brian.

The Table setup

Brian, Jeremy and Kirstyn

And of course, our DM.

Our next game was a 13th Age, with Marcus, Jeremy, Brian and I, plus two "new friends" and a DM who was very good at and familiar with the system.  We've been doing a 13th Age game as our "Main Game" for about a year, since our SWFFG game ended and like Starfinder, it's a system that we were all very skeptical about at first and have found ourselves LOVING.  

I really enjoyed this DM.  He did a lot to challenge us to roleplay, I think the only time we spend game time making up backgrounds for our characters and making any character creation choices.  (They were basically premades but he had us choose names and do some history stuff which only makes sense if you know 13th Age.)

 He did some really cool mechanics as well, like one that made travel interesting... one person would say something bad that happened in our journey and the next would say "But it was all okay, because..." and use that as a way to bring depth to the adventure.  Like one person said "It was bad when the owlbears attacked us..." and then I answered, "But it was all okay, because our supplies had been running low, and now we had plenty of meat to eat on the journey!"  Then I said "It was bad when we came across a village that had been wiped out by disease." and the next person said "But it was okay, because we learned a vital clue, and kept the disease from spreading!" and the DM gave us a clue about what was coming up.

I played a Bard in this game.... okay the thing is, I love playing bards.  Support classes in general, but I always have to pull myself away from the urge to play a bard.  But there were only a couple of character sheets left when they came around and Marcus wanted to play a wizard so I did bard.  Apparently, Bard is one of most complex classes in the game, and the DM said I did great.  We were 5th level (out of 10) so they were already pretty in-depth characters.  We're only level 3 in our campaign at home, so it was fun to see how powerful we'd become.

Also what I love about 13th Age is that the world is just... weird.  You think that Anything Can Happen in D&D but honestly, the world of 13th Age is just so much broader and weirder and it was fun to see this DM's interpretation of it.  One of my favorite games of the con.

Our fighter, Jeremy the Monk and Brian the Barbarian.

Marcus, our rogue, and the DM.

So that night, we had had a 3-hour break scheduled then were supposed to go to Lucas Oil to play the Call of Cthulu board game that night.  But then Jeremy and I had been talking the night before and were thinking... maybe we could play more Starfinder.

We'd been planning on going to the Nerd Night (which is a thing where you go and play games plus support a charity with donations) to fill in those hours, so we asked Marcus if he'd mind skipping the board game so we could spend those hours doing Starfinder at NN instead.  He gave in.

So we stopped and got some dinner at a food truck (had a pretty good burger and fries, we were starving since we'd just had whatever snacks we had brought with us for lunch) and then it took a little bit of time but we found Nerd Night, which was held in a hotel that had turned an old train station into a ballroom.  It was very cool.  After eating, resting, drinking lots of water, and doing some Starfinder Society paperwork, we got to work on Starfinder, finding a quiet table in the corner away from everyone to play at.  And the module was SO FUN, our characters were on a reality-competition game show in order to bring glory to the Starfinder Society (and our family).  And then a loud group of people decided to pick the table RIGHT NEXT TO US in an empty side- room to play their loud game at (seriously... wtf?  THERE WERE AT LEAST A DOZEN OTHER TAbLES NOT NEXT TO US TO PICK!) so we packed up and moved to another corner, that was actually quieter and not as cold.

Then they kicked us out of Nerd Night at around 12:30, after it had closed.  So we walked back to the ICC (Indiana Convention Center) and found a near-empty food court, pushed some tables together... and kept gaming.  Until like, after 2AM.  

We didn't officially finish the module yet but we were kicking so much ass that we had basically won it already anyway.

So yeah... back to the hotel... asleep by um... three?

The actual quiet corner table.

The Empty Food Court setup

FRIDAY, PART ONE

So the next morning everyone but me did True Dungeon, meeting at 10am.  I bowed out because my back was too fucked up to stand for that long.  It was a hard decision, but the right one for me.  Instead, I spent a little bit of time shopping in the dealer hall, taking sit-down breaks against the wall when needed, and decided on what I'd want to buy later.  Mostly I just went to three booths and peeked at a few more.

After a short hangout break, I went to a lecture I'd had my eye on anyway, all about Eberron (one of the "official" D&D worlds) by the actual creator of Eberron, Keith Baker.  This was definitely my hidden gem of the weekend. He took a bunch of questions BEFORE the panel started that he jotted down and answered in his talk, which I thought was a great way of doing it, and still had time for more questions at the end.  All the questions were also great, I thought, in contrast to a lot of con panels.  I really enjoyed what he had to say, not only about Eberron, which is probably my favorite of all the official D&D worlds, but about worldbuilding in general.  It was only an hour, but it was an hour well spent.  There were only about 100 people there but I hope he enjoyed the panel as much as I enjoyed attending.

Afterwards, it was time to meet back up with the guys for my first of four games in the Paizo room.  First up: STARFINDER!  

We'd tried valiantly, but had only barely made it to level two with our SFS characters, so we each picked a premade "iconic" character who was the same class as our own, and re-skinned them to just say they were our characters.  The module was pretty cool, dealing with a world that was a simulation that the inhabitants believed was real.  I was a little frustrated with the DM at one point but otherwise had a very fun game.

This is the only pic I took of that game, damnit. And this was because my mom texted and said to tell the guys hi, so I sent this back to her.

And after that game... I parted ways with my friends once again.  Because I had tickets... to Critical Role.

Okay this post is already really long, I'll finish up in a second post! Which I've already gotten a good chunk of written, so look for that later tonight or tomorrow night!

[vampireadamooc]

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Direct Links to A-P (August 4th 2017)

The Vault Index

The FBI has converted many FOIA documents to an electronic format (PDF), and they may be viewed below. In the case of voluminous pages, only summaries or excerpts from the documents are online. Subjects are sorted alphabetically by first name. You can also use your browser's find feature to locate subjects on the page.

Al Capone Animal Mutilation Ali Hasan Al-Majid Al-Tikriti (Chemical Ali) Albert Anastasia ACLU Aristotle Onassis American Friends Service Committee Aryan Nation Anna Nicole Smith Anthony Blunt Alfred Kinsey Abner Zwillman Albert Einstein Anthony Spilotro ABSCAM Arthur Flegenheimer (Dutch Schultz) Alcatraz Escape Alcoholics Anonymous Al Gore, Sr. Amerithrax Anwar Nasser Aulaqi Amelia Boynton Abbie Hoffman Adolf Hitler Asian American Political Alliance Amelia Mary Earhart Andrew Phillip Cunanan Anthony Salerno All American Anti Imperialist League American Nazi Party Arthur Rudolph Aryan Brotherhood Atlanta Child Murders Aryan Circle Almighty Latin Kings Abe Fortas Arthur R. "Doc" Barker Arnold Palmer Armando Florez Ibarra Alvin Francis Karpis Attempted Assassination of President Ronald Reagan Alger Hiss Ariel Sharon Art Modell

Black September Bertolt Brecht Billy Carter Bishop Fulton Sheen Bonus March Barker-Karpis Gang Summary Bloods and Crips Gang Bonnie and Clyde Black Dahlia (Elizabeth Short) Basque Intelligence Service Bugsy Siegel Bayard Rustin Benjamin Hooks Benjamin Crowninshield Bradlee Black Guerilla Family Black Mafia Family Bernard Baruch Black Panther Party BOMBROB Betty Shabazz Bureau Aviation Regulations Policy Directive and Policy Guide Bernard Julius Otto Kuehn Bettie Page Billy Martin Barker/Karpis Gang

Caryl Chessman Cardinal Francis Spellman Cambridge Five Spy Ring Carmine John Persico, Jr. Custodial Detention Clyde A. Tolson Clark Gable Charles Manson Council on Foreign Relations Charles Lindbergh Clarence Smith (aka 13x) Clarence Darrow Carl Sagan Carmine Galante Conference Cost Reporting and Approvals to Use Nonfederal Facilities Policy Directive 0927D Charlie Chaplin Casey Kasem Cartha DeLoach Christopher (Biggie Smalls) Wallace Charles "Chuck" Wendell Colson Contract for Assistance Regarding Syed Farooks iPhone Charlie Wilson Courtney Allen Evans Claudia Johnson Carlo Gambino Christic Institute Cesar Chavez Clergy and Laity Concerned about Vietnam Charles Rebozo Charles Kettering Claudia Jones Christian Identity Movement Carl Sandburg Charles (Sonny) Liston Columbine High School Criminal Profiling Coretta Scott King Charles Arthur (Pretty Boy) Floyd Custodial Detention Headquarters Carlos Fuentes COINTELPRO Custodial Detention Security Index

Danny Kaye David Koresh Daily Worker Dinah Shore Dorothy Dandridge Duquesne Spy Ring Director Comey Letter to Congress Dated October 28, 2016 Diversity and Inclusion Program Policy Guide Policy Directive 0842D Daniel David "Dan" Rostenkowski Daniel Inouye Daniel Schorr Demonstrations against Lyndon B. Johnson Desi Arnaz Diana, Princess of Wales D. Milton Ladd Dr. Samuel Sheppard Dwight David "Ike" Eisenhower Director Comey Letter to Congress Dated November 6, 2016 David Hahn Debbie Reynolds David Howell Petraeus Daniel Patrick Moynihan D. B. Cooper

Erich Fromm Emmett Till E. B. (William) Dubois Extra-Sensory Perception Eliot Ness Electronic Recordkeeping Certification Policy Guide 0800PG Edward Irving "Ed" Koch Elizabeth Taylor Everette Hunt Edward Abbey Elizabeth Arden Edward Kennedy (Duke) Ellington Elvis Presley Eugene McCarthy Eddie Cantor Eleanor Roosevelt Evelyn Frechette Eric Wright (Eazy-E, EZ E) El Rukns Elijah Muhammad Ernest Hemingway Eugene “Gene” Curran Kelly Explanation of Exemptions

FBI Miami Shooting, April 11, 1986 Frances Perkins Fred Hampton Frank Capone FBI History Francis Gary Powers Frank Sinatra FBI Technical Surveillance Countermeasures Classification Guide Fred W. Phelps, Sr FBI Ethics and Integrity Program Policy Directive Policy Guide FBI Student Programs Policy Guide 0805 PG Fannie Lou Hammer Frank Rosenthal FBI Domestic Investigations and Operations Guide (DIOG) FBI Undercover Operations FBI Terrorist Photo Album Five Percenters Frank Wortman FBI Use of Global Positioning System (GPS) Tracking Frank Malina FDPS FBI Sign Language Interpreting and Reading Program 0889D FBI Seal Name Initials and Special Agent Gold Badge 0625D FOIA DISCLAIMER Fidel Castro Freedom Riders FBI Assistance Provided to Local Law Enforcement During the Black Lives Matter Movement FBI Recreational Association(s) 0465D FOIA Requests Containing the Word Trump Fritz Julius Kuhn Fred G. Randaccio Fred C. Trump

George (Bugs) Moran Greenlease Kidnapping George (Machine Gun) Kelly Groucho Marx Guy Hottel Gov. Edmund Gerald (Pat) Brown, Sr. Gene Siskel German American Federation/Bund Geraldine Ferraro Gangster Disciples Grace Kelly Greenpeace George Jackson Brigade Guantanamo (GTMO) George Burns George Lester Jackson General Douglas MacArthur General Telecommunications Policy 0862D George S. Patton, Jr. Gay Activist Alliance Ghost Stories: Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR) Illegals Gamergate Gregory Scarpa, Sr George Orson Welles George Steinbrenner

Hugo Black Henry Louis (H.L.) Mencken Henry A Wallace Herbert Khaury (Tiny Tim) Highlander Folk School Hanns Eisler Henry Miller Howard Zinn Huey Percy Newton HEARNAP Honoraria Policy 0867D Herman Barker Harold Glasser Hubert H. Humphrey Helen Keller Harland David "Colonel" Sanders Hindenburg Harry S. Truman Hillary R. Clinton Howard Robard Hughes, Jr

Interpol Irgun Zvai Leumi Irving Berlin Impersonation of Bhumibol Adulyadej Imperial Gangsters I Was a Communist for the FBI (Motion Picture) Irwin Allen Ginsberg Ian Fleming Irving Resnick

Jack Soble Jefferson Airplane Jack Benny Jack the Ripper Jesse James James Cagney John F. Kennedy Jr. John Murtha Joseph Aiuppa Jonestown (RYMUR) Summary Joseph Lash John Ehrlichman John L. Lewis John (Jake the Barber) Factor Joseph P. (Joe) Kennedy, Sr. John Steinbeck John Arthur (Jack) Johnson Janis Joplin Jimmy Hoffa Jessica Mitford Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer Jack Anderson John Wilkes Booth Joe Paterno Jay David Whittaker Chambers John Joseph Gotti, Jr James Marshall "Jimi" Hendrix James Baldwin Joseph Losey John Siegenthaler Jeannette Rankin Jack Roosevelt Robinson Judith Coplon James Joseph Brown John Wayne (Marion Robert Morrison) Jerry Garcia Jane Addams John Chancellor John Wayne Gacy Jack Roosevelt (Jackie) Robinson John D. Rockefeller, III John Dillinger John (Handsome Johnny) Roselli John Profumo (Bowtie) J. Edgar Hoover Julius and Ethel Rosenberg J. Edgar Hoover Appointment and Phone Logs Jesse Helms Jonestown J. Edgar Hoover Official and Confidential (O&C) Files Joe Louis Joan Alexandra Rivers Jack Dempsey John Denver James Farmer James McDougal John Updike Jerry Heller Josephine Baker Joseph Paul "Joe" DiMaggio John Winston Lennon

Kent State Katherine Oppenheimer Kent State Shooting Ken Eto Kansas City Massacre Kiss

Lady Bird Johnson Louis Allen Leander Perez, Sr. Legal Handbook for FBI Special Agents Louis (Lepke) Buchalter Liberace Lyndon B. Johnson Laboratory Reference Firearms Collection Policy LD0020D Louie Louie (The Song) Louis Francis Costello Lucia Stepp Lewis F. Powell, Jr. Lillie Belle Allen League of Women Voters Lillian (Lily) Hellman Lester Joseph Gillis (Baby Face Nelson) Lenny Bruce Lucille Ball Luis Buñuel Louis Terkel Langston Hughes Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev Leon Trotsky Leonard Bernstein Lloyd William Barker

Marilyn Monroe Motion Picture Copyright Infringement Mississippi Burning (MIBURN) Case Michael (Mike) Royko Martin Luther King, Jr. Melvin Purvis Malcolm X Muriel Rukeyser Marilyn Sheppard Madalyn Murray OHair Mack Charles Parker Mexican Mafia Mafia Monograph Morris and Lona Cohen Medgar Evers Moorish Science Temple of America Mary Jo Kopechne (Chappaquiddick) Majestic 12 Marian Anderson Michael Jackson Machine Gun Kelly Murray Humphreys Michael Hastings Michael Whitney Straight Melvin Belli Marvin Gaye Marlene Dietrich Malcolm Little (Malcolm X) Meir Kahane Mario Savio Mohammed Khalifa MAOP Margaret H. Thatcher Myron Leon "Mike" Wallace Miami Boys Mario M. Cuomo Muammar Qadhafi Mattachine Society Meyer Lansky Mickey Mantle MIOG Mark Felt Martin Dies, Jr. Muhammad Ali Marcus Garvey

Nikola Tesla Norman Mailer Neil Armstrong National Rifle Association (NRA) New Alliance Party Nuestra Familia National Security Letters (NSL) National States Rights Party NAACP National Investigations Committee on Aerial Phenomena (NICAP) National Organization for Women (NOW) Nation of Islam Nelson Mandela National Gang Threat Assessment Next Generation Identification Monthly Fact Sheets Non-Retaliation for Reporting Compliance Risks Naming and Commemorating FBI Buildings and Spaces 0910D

Osage Indian Murders Owen Lattimore OKBOMB Original Knights of the KKK

Pearl Buck People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) President Richard Nixon's FBI Application Purple Gang (aka Sugar House Gang) Project Blue Book (UFO) Philip Ochs Protests in Baltimore, Maryland, 2015 Pablo Escobar Patriot Act Paul Harvey Paul Robeson, Sr. Pulse Nightclub Shooting Personal Services Contracts Policy Directive 0957D Percy Sutton Pentagon Spy Case Policy: Custodial Interrogation for Public Safety Policy Directive 0481D Physical Fitness Program Policy Directive and Policy Guide 0676PG

[letsplayscrabble-blog]

reality -part 4- [linstead fic.]

- I know I should probably hold off on posting this but I was just too excited. Thank you SO much for all of the kind words on this you guys. It pushes me to keep writing and I haven’t been feeling good about writing for awhile now. So THANK YOU and please enjoy. I’m trying to keep this as realistic as possible so any advice/knowledge (delivered kindly) will be taken into consideration. <3

[tw: mention of child abuse, neglect, etc.]

-------

When she was little, she’d used to have dreams of living up in a tower. A tower much like the story of Rapunzel that she’d once read during story-time when her mother still cared enough to send her to school, with her long golden hair and her perfect, handsome prince who came to save the day and whisk her off to a happily ever after. 

She used to squeeze her eyes shut and clench her hands into tiny little fists and thought maybe if she wished hard enough, if she believed hard enough, she’d wake up the next morning away from the punches her father delivered to her gut whenever she didn’t bring him another bottle of beer fast enough, or the burns from his cigarette butts all the way up and down her arms she’d earn whenever she complained about being hungry. And maybe, if she was really lucky a fairy godmother would replace her real one, who spent more time in a drugged up daze lying on the tile of the bathroom floor than signing up for parent teacher conferences or packing a sack lunch or kissing her daughter’s cheek goodbye before she stumbled over her shoes that were far too big for her feet to get to the bus on time before it left her and her raggedy clothes, and her ripped-up plastic sack of a backpack in the dust.

 But looking out over the New York skyline from her shiny and sleek twenty-third floor office, she realized she had gotten her tower. A room in the tower of the FBI field office in Manhattan to be exact, with a sleek job as a special agent in counterterrorism and plenty of cases to choose from at her fingertips as to what bad guy she wanted to see burn first- but her tower wasn’t all that she had thought it would be. Perhaps the appeal of it was lessened by the uniform of a scratchy pinstriped pantsuit, or her own personal quality coffeemaker perched on the corner of her desk that didn’t brew quite the same as the fussy one back in Chicago, where if she bumped it just right she could get the thing to dribble out a few ounces more, or maybe it was the way no one really raised their heads out of their computers to say ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’ or to even answer her question as to where to find the damn restroom.

 She felt like a fish out of water, like she was already drowning and it was only her first day and four hours in and normally she would’ve dialed up her favorite blue-eyed ex-Army Ranger for a pep talk and a few reassuring words and maybe even an ‘I love you’ but they were nowhere near that anymore and hadn’t been since he shoved a handful of t-shirts into a duffel bag and ignored her pleas of ‘I can handle it’ and so she tossed her phone into the back of a desk drawer with perhaps a bit too hard of a thud, because she was really and truly on her own and her fingers kept hovering over his name as if she’d somehow work up the nerve to call him and to hear his voice on the other end. But she knew somewhere in the back of her head that she wouldn't, that she couldn't- because she'd left without a goodbye on purpose, because one word out of his mouth or one glance into his sky blue orbs would've kept her there with him and without a job and standing right there on the sidelines because the board’s decision more than likely hadn't gone in her favor as much as she had hoped and prayed for otherwise.

 “Lindsay.”

 She averted her steady gaze from the window, from the bustling city going about its business far below her feet to the woman standing in her doorway, Agent Jennifer Spencer- the woman who had flown all the way to Chicago to recruit her and though she had her sneaking suspicions that she hadn't bothered to voice yet, hadn't bothered to inquire why Spencer had appeared at just the right moment when she was floundering and needed help and needed out. Besides, it wasn't as if she had anything left to fall back on. Her life in Chicago was in shambles.

 “You're needed in the boardroom. Time to hit the ground running.” The woman flashed a wink and what was more than likely supposed to be a comforting smile but it just made Erin’s insides twist. Here a case meant controlling WMDs and stopping a sick soul from blowing up an entire city and though her hands shook with anticipation the weight of it all hadn't quite hit her until this very moment, standing two steps away from the wooden oak door that would open to reveal a room of uniformed agents trained and lethal and far more intense than anything she'd ever experienced before. And she would do anything right then and there to hear Hank’s gravelly murmurs of assurance or the squeeze of Jay’s hand wrapped in her jittery fingers but she'd broken at least one of those bridges and she’d been the one who shoved the gun into the bastard’s mouth and standing here with no one lean on wasn't anyone's fault except her own.

 --------

 They busted the home of Marcus Hemmings by lunchtime, a hacker becoming well known in the city for continuous breaches of the security of major banks and businesses, slowly working his way up to the government buildings as they’d found blueprints and a list of top secret codes for the state capitol building. The FBI had been monitoring his contacts and had tailed him to an undercover meeting in some alleyway with a man from overseas though Erin hadn’t learned exactly from where- though by the way Agent Spencer’s jaw remained tight even after the hacker was hauled away in an armored vehicle she figured there was more to the story than anyone was letting on.

 “I can handle it-”

 “That’s not the issue here, Erin. Drop it.” She cast a pointed look into the rearview mirror and Erin began to nibble on her bottom lip because maybe she’d gotten in over her head and maybe she suddenly missed hearing his mumbled complaints from the passenger seat because she’d almost always insisted sitting behind the wheel instead of being shoved to the back like a scolded child like she was in this very moment and she knew that is was only her first day and perhaps she was being unreasonable and irritable because homesickness had eaten away at her all night long instead of the sweet escape of unconsciousness but she was also under the impression she’d been brought here for a reason and this felt nothing like any sort of inclusion. She caught the man in the passenger seat trying and failing to hide his smirk and it took everything in her not to blow it, not to lose her cool and rip him a new one because if there was one thing she hated about working on this side of the law and this high up on the totem pole it would be the constant belief that men were better equipped to handle it than females, as if she wasn’t competent or qualified enough to be carrying the badge. Damn did he have another thing coming. She made a mental note to stop in and introduce herself later in the day, to find his office and to look him in the eye and put a name to that atrociously smug expression and wipe it right off of his features.

 But when they returned to the field office, he went one way and Agent Spencer dragged her another, her brisk pace never faltering and her mouth not moving once in any sort of an explanation and so Erin did her best to follow, weaving in and out of the crowd milling in the opposite direction until they finally came to rest at the elevator, the light above the door signaling they had quite a few floors left to wait.

 “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on, Spencer,” Erin hissed through her teeth, realizing blowing her top wouldn’t be the best first impression on her superiors but she was through with taking a literal back seat on this case. It just wasn’t how she had been taught to operate.

 “There’s been a bigger breach in national security than we had anticipated,” Agent Spencer murmured, her eyes remaining trained on the descending light and her voice remaining barely above a whisper and Erin had to lean in close to catch the strain of words falling past her lips. And though they sent her reeling, she kept her features collected, realizing they were out in the open and that this may have been the FBI building but suddenly she was questioning if even that was keeping them protected.

[officialydonefanfiction]

Split Across the Continents Chapter #1

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. Never have done and never will.

Part 1 Washington DC

Lieutenant Marcus King had a hangover. It wasn't just any hangover but the kind of hangover that would have put his training academy 200lb heavy set drill instructor to shame. He checked his phone, cursed loudly at the time, and started trying to locate his clothes from the night before casually strewn across the floor. The bleached blond girl from the bed moaned as he started to pull on his jeans.

"Can't you stay a little longer? We can pick up right where you left off." Her voice was husky and sent tingles down Marcus's spine but the thought of his commander's reaction when he arrived late was more sobering than a cold shower.

"Would love to but my boss isn't too happy about being tardy." Marcus replied kissing her ear and leaving the room.

The seedy hotel that he had spent the last few hours was quiet at this hour, well almost quiet, the loud couple down the hall were clearly nowhere near rest and Marcus inwardly smirked as he heard the unmistakable voice of his fellow marine getting some action. He quickly exited the hotel and started towards a 24 hour convenience store which he hoped would sell something breakfasty at this hour. The one guy on shift was peering over his phone checking Facebook as Marcus began examining the selection of poor quality donuts and muffins. He was half asleep, so he didn't hear someone approaching him. He didn't hear the bullet either.

Navy Yard DC.

"So you see Ziva, Sean Connery was so much better at being James Bond than Daniel Craig." Tony finished what had been an almost twenty minute monologue to a rather bored Ziva as they left the elevator and headed towards their desks. Despite Ziva's complete lack of interest in James Bond, Tony had seen fit to educate her on what he felt she was definitely missing out on.

"Daniel Craig is rather good looking don't you think? I mean that scene in Casino Royale…" She teased Tony as she watched his face turn to a scowl.

"He's not that good looking." Tony muttered as he emptied his gun, wallet, keys, and badge into his top desk drawer. Ziva laughed at the remark as she sat down at her desk and just enjoyed the view of her partner for eleven years on and off sink down into his desk. Sure he wasn't as young as she had been when she had first met him but then neither was she.

She nodded a quick good morning to McGee who appeared to be rather engrossed in looking at a webpage. She nodded across at Tony as she crept across to see what he was doing.

"Engagement rings, McGoo?" Tony called him out as they leant over his shoulder. McGee sighed and continued to scroll through the webpage.

"I'm going to propose to Delilah but I need help choosing the ring." McGee explained as he accidentally clicked on a ring that was almost as tacky as it was tasteless.

"Not that one. It looks awful." Ziva cringed as McGee exited the screen and went back to the main page.

"You can trust me on this McGagementring." Tony nodded as he commandeered the mouse and started to scroll through.

"Since when do you have experience picking out engagement rings?" McGee snorted as he tried to grab his mouse again.

"Still sore McGee. Still sore." Tony said, grabbing the mouse back.

"It's been fifteen years Tony." Ziva said exasperatedly. "Don't you think you have moved on?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"No time for rings now, dead marine stuffed into a convenience store display. Grab your gear." Gibbs hollered as he thundered through the bullpen wearing his classic sports coat and holding his trademark coffee. Tony and Ziva left McGee's side faster than bullets as the followed their boss towards the elevator.

"Yeah I have moved on." Tony muttered into Ziva's ear as they headed into the elevator.

After what felt like the scariest twenty minutes in McGee's life, the NCIS truck screeched to halt outside a run down convenience store with a neon sign above it detailed six packs for five bucks. The marine inside was splayed in a grotesque fashion inside a display with three bullet holes in his abdomen and one in his head.

"Morning all." Came the cheerful voice of Ducky accompanied by Palmer.

"Cause of death, Duck?" Gibbs didn't bother with the pleasantries.

"I have only just arrived but I can probably estimate the gunshot wounds although which one remains to be seen." Ducky mumbled as he handed the liver probe over to Jimmy.

"Time of death was 5:30 this morning, Doctor." Jimmy added as Tony and Ziva walked back into the store.

"Found another body boss. Appears to be the store clerk. Gunshot wound to the head. Had a phone on him." Tony added keeping it brief.

"No witnesses either." Ziva added.

"Boss, this is Lieutenant Marcus King stationed at the Pentagon. Wife is Maria King and they have a ten year old daughter April." McGee added as he checked their portable AFIS machine. Ziva felt her breath catch in her throat. Ten year old daughter… She banished the thought. She couldn't think about /her/ now. She quickly focused on collecting evidence so to avoid catching her boss's eye. As she focused on looking for shell casings she felt Tony come up behind her.

"You okay?" His voice was low and she knew the implied tone behind it. He knew why she was almost going to pieces of the mention of a ten year old.

"I will be." Ziva answered as she put a 9mm shell casing into an evidence bag.

"Ziva…" His voice trailed over laced with concern which simultaneously made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. She grabbed the rest of her kit and headed towards the van. She couldn't cry now, not where she was working. She threw her gear into the back and turned to go towards the cab when she was faced with Tony, the same look of concern on his face. He pulled her into a hug and she felt herself relax into it. It was just Tony after all.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into her ear.

A/N: This is my first fan fiction. I hope you enjoy it!

[element-effect-blog]

"Make Inbound Work For You:" The IMPACT Show Ep. 34 [Show Notes]

"Make Inbound Work For You:" The IMPACT Show Ep. 34 [Show Notes]

 If you want an agency to shift and make inbound work, you really have to think about the greater purpose, your company's values, and the company's 3 year vision. 

As a reminder, we’re here to help growth leaders overcome common obstacles and create breakthroughs.

Just in case you missed us live (or if you want to relive the magic), you’ll find the episode’s show notes below as well as the recording.

Enjoy and make sure to share with your peers!

Have feedback or questions? We’d love to hear it. Comment on this blog or email us at show@impactbnd.com

IMPACT Live

Early bird pricing for IMPACT Live ends on 1/17/18

All Inclusive: $99 (going up to $169 after the 17th)

VIP: $399 (going up to $499 after the 17th)

IMPACT Live 2018: Join over 500 members of the IMPACT Elite community in person for our very special 2-day event. Speakers include Dharmesh Shah, Ann Handley, David Meerman Scott, Marcus Sheridan, and more still to be announced. 

Event Date: August 7th and 8th

What Marketers Be Talkin' 'Bout

Where we go over what you're saying in IMPACT Elite.

IMPACT Elite is a community of passionate marketers looking to help other marketers succeed. We’d love for you to join us! Go to impactbnd.com/elite or just search the IMPACT Elite Group on Facebook and request to join. 

Exclusive with Rebecca Corliss

Key Learnings:

The first thing they worked on was personas, first few months were mostly interviews.

How important it was to have both in-house marketers and people in the company with extensive networks.

Beta group for feedback and product improvements 

When launching it was important to have PR 

Traffic and brand awareness are one of their core metrics

Ismail Aly asked: "How often to run NPS surveys with your customers?"

Bob: It depends on the business, but as an agency, we ask once every 2 weeks and we just ask at the end of the client calls: “How are you feeling, 1-10, and why?” - we document the responses on a Google Form.

Michelle Loughry: We do it monthly with our clients. We have in-person or video calls for reporting metrics reviews. We have great relationships with our clients so if there are issues they're more than willing to let us know right away. We also have weekly touch pointsto update them on current activities and planned activities and they communicate satisfaction that way. The key, I think, is asking but also letting them know WHY you're asking and what you do with that info. I've been on teams where the number is tracked and then....nothing. It's just like "Ok, this is good to know." I like to create little "conflict reports" if there are issues so we can keep track of that just like a metric.

Kristen Traynor asked: "Does anyone know of an app that integrates with HubSpot for collecting business cards/lead info at a tradeshow?"

Caitlin Shanly: Neat Scanner. Also, some trade shows allow you to pay to rent a badge scanner, so you can scan the badges of everyone who stops by your booth. Then at the end of the show, you willreceive an Excel file of the leads that you can import into HubSpot, and you can make a note that those leads came from a particular show.

Andy McCormick: HubSpot app has the ability to scan cards one off and add them as a contact.

Chris Higgins: Akkroo. I’ve used it extensively, and it’s fantastic. They even have a service that will transcribe the details on any business cards that you scan, plus an integration with HubSpot so that your data syncs directly into your contact database.

Digital Marketing News

Where each week, Nick and Bob share one thing from the world of digital marketing that caught their eye.

Columnist Kristopher Jones talks visual search - its current state, its implications for the future and strategies for SEOs looking to capitalize on this evolving technology.

The arrival of the Pinterest Lens and Google Lens has ignited a battle for visual search engine supremacy. Beyond opening up a new revenue stream for e-commerce stores, visual search could completely alter consumer habits and purchasing decisions.

In a world driven by instant gratification, visual search can open the door towards "snap and surf" purchasing, streamlining the search interface. This provides a promising outlook for e-commerce stores that develop their product listing ads and online catalogs for the visual web.

While still in its infancy, optimizing for visual search could greatly improve your website's user experience, conversion rate, and online traffic.

There are three types of visual search:

Traditional image search (relies on text)

Pixel by pixel image searches that enable "snap and search"

By image or parts of the image

How these tools can identify objects in a larger picture, connect them to online stores or locations where a purchase can be made.

Potential Strategies:

It's important that images are displayed clearly and free of clutter so that visual applications have an easier time processing them. Beyond this, you should stick to the basics of image-based search optimization.

Add descriptive alt-text to images for indexation

Submit images to an image sitemap

Optimize image titles and alternative attributes with targeted keywords

Set up image badges and run them through a structured data test.

Optimize for ideal image size and file type

Utilize appropriate schema markup for images and content pages

Optimize images to render on mobile and desktop displays

A rare moment of sincere emotion from Richard Yu, CEO of Huawei's consumer products division, went off script at the end of his CES keynote to express his "quiet anger" at AT&T pulling out on a deal to sell Huawei's Mate 10.

Reports published via NY Times indicate the carrier's decision by political pressure within the US, with apparent concern about Chinese espionage and Huawei's particular role in that underlying the whole thing.

Derrick Weiss's take on this: carriers shouldn't have the right to influence the phones we use. We pay for the service ALREADY. If they want to make more by choosing certain phone manufacturers over others, they will lose customers. I'll switch to a carrier that lets me do what I want.   

How to Make Inbound Work for You

From Nick Bennett:

"How do you start the cultural shift to an inbound business model?" The business in question has been email blasting purchased lists and cold calling for years. It is all they know. They have purchased HubSpot software on a recommendation but do not utilize it because it takes too long to produce results. They thought it was a one and done situation.

You need to pull out all the stops for this one! How do you get them to see sales and marketing through your eyes?

My recommendation is to start at the core of the business. 

And, what is making your team aligned?

The most important part of this question is the business model. 

It's the way that we do business. At IMPACT,  it's not about the agency services, but helping people.

Fulfilling a greater purpose as an agency.

If you really want an agency to shift, you really have to think about the greater purpose, values, and vision of the company 3 years from now.

Next Steps:

We would love your comments! Feel free to send us an email or comment on the Facebook thread. 

If you really liked it, please give us a 5-star review on iTunes. 

We're going to IMPACT Elite to ask what you want us to talk about, so jump in on the post there.

Join Us Next Week! 

We'll be back again next Thursday, January 18th at 1:00 PM ET.

Until next time... get out there and make it happen.

Impress in 2018 with IMPACT’s

INBOUND MARKETING STRATEGY

Template & Example

More Info

By entering your email you expressly consent to receive other resources to help you improve your marketing efforts.

Impress in 2018 with IMPACT’s Inbound Marketing Strategy Template & Example

About Ramona Sukhraj

As Content Marketing Manager, Ramona approaches marketing not only as a profession, but as a creative outlet. She has a passion for all things artistic and strives to create content that is educational, yet quirky and entertaining as well. With a B.S. in Marketing from the UCONN School of Business, Ramona is a frequent contributor to the HubSpot blog and a nonprofit consultant. Outside of IMPACT, she is a design, movie, and pop culture buff, and a fierce advocate of free hugs.

Connect with Ramona Sukhraj

Source

https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/make-inbound-work-for-you-impact-show

[pynkhues]

#9 “oh, you’ve started stealing my socks now?” 😊

(Sorry this took so long!) 

Set in The Centre and Circumference / Domestic Fic universe

“I’m just going to – ”  

“No, you ain’t,” Rio snaps back at her, his nostrils flaring, and Beth rolls her eyes, curling the blanket tighter around her shoulders and flopping back onto the couch. He squints at her for a second, and she’s pretty sure he’s waiting to make sure she doesn’t get up again, which is honestly hilarious. After all, she’s doing okay – she’s three glasses of red wine deep and has the blanket. He’s the one shivering in a pair of stiff black jeans and a too-thin hoodie on the living room floor.

Satisfied that she’s not going to make a break for the thermostat, he turns his attention back to the fire. Or rather, not the fire, Beth thinks, amused, but the enormous log he’d dropped into the fireplace, the smattering of kindling and what has to be close to thirty burnt out matches, leaving smears of charcoal on the concrete floor of the thing.

“We could just turn the central heating on until you get it going,” Beth says, and she keeps her voice light, soothing, even if internally she’s practically glowing. There’s just something so magical about finding something new he’s bad at, especially given the list is so short – cooking, singing (and that one had surprised all of them. “With that deep, husky voice?” Ruby had asked, eyebrow raised, grinning wide. “Figured he’d be a regular Ray Charles.”

“Nope,” Beth replied gleefully, taking a sip on her cocktail. “Like skinning a cat.”)

And now, apparently, lighting a fire.

Rio mumbles something under his breath which sounds vaguely threatening, but Beth’s pretty sure it’s aimed at the log, not her, which is a little harsh. After all, it’s not the log’s fault, she thinks, reaching to grab her wine glass off the coffee table and god, okay, it really is cold. She pulls her glass to her chest and then curls the blanket better around herself again, keeping the cool air at bay.

The night had started off so well too. With her kids at Dean’s and Marcus at Laura’s and the weather warnings blearing over the radio, Beth had closed the dealership early to get all the staff home safely and somehow managed to talk Rio into doing the same with the warehouse (albeit, not quite as early). It had barely been three by the time she’d gotten home, and she’d managed to throw on some sweats, get a casserole in the oven, crack a bottle of wine and check in with the kids, Annie and Ruby before Rio had stumbled in the door, brushing sleet from the shoulders of his coat.

And it had almost been romantic, she thinks contentedly, safe from the bustle of the real world outside of their dining room, eating dinner, drinking wine, jazz practically oozing languidly off Rio’s turntable, her foot inching up his leg beneath the table, when he’d suggested they take it to the living room.

And now here they were, Beth thinks, watching as Rio surges back up onto his knees, furiously lighting another match, holding it low on the kindling, the flame almost licking around the stick instead of catching on the bark, and it must be wet or something because it’s really not going to light. The match burns down, singing Rio’s fingers, and he swears, tossing the thing haphazardly into the fireplace.

Biting back a grin, Beth sits forwards a little on the couch, about to get up to help him (she’d have done it earlier if he hadn’t been so insistent on her staying warm and relaxing back on the couch – while also not letting her turn on the heating, promising this’d be roaring soon enough), when suddenly Rio’s work cell starts buzzing in the back pocket of his jeans. He cusses again, yanking it out, checking the number, and promptly answering it.

“What?” he grunts in lieu of a greeting, and someone must say something significant, because suddenly he’s rocking up to his feet, covering the mouthpiece as he looks at Beth and says:

“Gimme a minute, yeah?” before striding off into the hallway then darting up the stairs to their shared home office, and Beth frowns, because if he’s taking it upstairs, it means it’s either news he doesn’t want her to know, somebody he doesn’t want knowing about her (he’s weirdly paranoid about certain unnamed people hearing her voice, and no matter how much she pries, he refuses to tell her why), or both.

Watching him disappear up the stairs, Beth shuffles forwards, dropping her wine glass back to the coffee table and then herself to the floor.

Thing is, it is weird. All those months ago in Beth’s old bed, in her old house, the fireplace had been the first thing on his list when they’d played Dream House, and on those early, new nights, she’d dreamt of what that meant, assuming it held a significance to him in the same way that the kitchen did for her. Something that would make a house their home. Had imagined him with a childhood spent in front of one, toasting marshmallows or warming his toes, imagined it as one of the few things he’d had to go without in his loft, imagined him missing it, but now she’s not so sure.

It’s like he’s never even seen someone light one before.

She almost laughs when she gets to the fireplace, pushing aside the enormous log he’d laid down at the base of it and the sticks which actually are wet (he must’ve grabbed them from outside when she was cleaning up dinner), and starts to sort through the kindling, finding the smallest, driest pieces. She finds a newspaper on the shelf below the coffee table – one she’s pretty sure Rio’s done with, and tears off a few shreds, scrunches them up, starting to build the base of the fire. When she’s happy enough, she lights a match, dropping it down and watching the flame surge as it swallows the newspaper, just starting to catch the sticks above.

Humming a little to herself, she grabs one of the enflamed sticks, pushing it a little deeper, letting the embers flick over to the newspaper at the back, catching against them there, slowly starting to catch on the sticks there too. She watches the fire ebb, the embers starting to dust the concrete floor of the fireplace, lets it build again, her eyelashes briefly fluttering shut as the first breath of warmth hits her cheeks.

“So were you gonna tell me you knew how to do that, or just gonna watch me make a mess of it?”

The words are little more than a lazy drawl, and Beth glances behind herself to see him wandering towards her, like a whip of darkness in the cool, dusky light of the evening. She grins, shrugging, turning her attention back to the fire. She pulls the stoker off the holder, and gently prods a few of the flaming sticks towards the naked ones.

“You didn’t ask.”

Rio snorts, sitting down beside her, rocking just slightly forwards, and he doesn’t hold his hands out to the fire, doesn’t stretch out in front of it, but she knows he’s warming himself up. He runs cold anyway – she thinks it probably has something to do with the fact he has barely an ounce of body fat on him – but he doesn’t even have to touch her for her to know his hands are even more freezing than usual.

“Scouts,” he guesses, and Beth grins over at him again, tilting up her chin a little proudly.

“Got the badge and everything,” she replies, and then points with the stoker to where she’d pushed his efforts aside for her own. “Your log was too big.”

“Yeah, I heard that before,” he hums in faux resignation, and Beth rolls her eyes, a blush dusting her cheeks at the innuendo before she can stop it, and she pokes his side with the handle of the stoker. He takes it easily, and Beth moves around him, her blanket dragging behind her as she reaches for a smaller piece of wood.

“You need to be gentler with it too,” she says gesturing to the fire, and then quickly looks back at Rio, who’s mouth is open to reply. “Don’t.”

His laugh is quick, lyrical over the crackle and thrum of the fire, and Beth can’t quite bite back her grin either as she carefully places the smaller log by one of the healthiest parts of the fire, letting the flames slowly engulf it.

“Everything okay?” she asks, and at Rio’s questioning look, adds: “With the phone call, I mean.”

Rocking his head from side-to-side, Rio prods at the fire, watching the flames move, sticks like skeleton fingers snap beneath the heat. This close, she can see the slightest dusting of freckles at his cheeks, each little bump of new hair in his five o’clock shadow, the impossible length of his eyelashes. He looks engrossed, eyes tracing the way the fire builds, the way it consumes, the way it -

“Can you take more cars next week?”

Beth blinks back at him, wets her lips, collecting herself. She wraps herself up again in the blanket, curling her legs underneath her as she thinks it over.

“Probably,” she decides. “Not like we have the kids, and Annie could use the extra cash at the moment for Sadie’s meds anyway, so I’m sure she wouldn’t say no to a few longer days too.”

“Might need you to.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks again, forehead furrowing, and Rio sighs this time, clenching his eyes shut briefly, rubbing at his forehead with his free hand. She doesn’t think he’ll reply – usually doesn’t when she asks, and she knows he’ll be annoyed if she asks again. To her surprise though, Rio drops his hand, stokes the fire, and says:

“Just internal shit with our suppliers. Want to finish up faster so we can shut down business with ‘em. AJ’s hooked me up with some guys he’s worked with before, says they’re hard work too, but get shit done. Figure I’ll go check ‘em out, and if they’re good, start moving us across, at least temporarily, until we find someone longer term.”

Beth considers this. She knows there’s been issues with one of their big suppliers – has been for months, Rio had told her as much, but she hadn’t realised it had gotten this bad. She bites the inside of her cheek.

“If we’re changing people, I want to be there to meet them,” she says, and Rio exhales, like he knew that was what she was going to say, and Beth frowns, watching him watch the fire. It’s not like she hasn’t met with people before, with suppliers and partners and associates, but Rio rarely offers. She thought for a while that he liked making her weasel her way into it all, and she thinks that he did, for a while, but these days he seems to only like her in meetings with people he’s - - they’re already in business with. People he knows. Like he’s worried she might make a bad impression or something on anyone new, and sure, she knows she’s not exactly Demon, but she thinks she’s always presented professionally.  

When he doesn’t answer, Beth’s frown deepens.

“Rio.”

“You get all your badges?”

Beth blinks, forehead furrowing.

“What?”

“At scouts,” Rio adds when he clocks her confusion, and Beth promptly rolls her eyes. “Ain’t there like a hundred of ‘em?”

“Rio, I’m serious.”

“You still got ‘em? I bet you do,” he hums, dropping the stoker to the front of the fireplace and shuffling a little back. He looks over at her appreciatively, sucking in his lips, like he’s picturing it. “Got the little hat still?”

“Rio,” she groans, hand escaping the blanket to push him, when suddenly he surges forwards, pushing her heavily onto her back against the freezing floorboards. She squawks, flails, still half tangled in the blanket as he rolls them over until she’s lying flat on top of him, and god, she must be squashing him, she thinks, feeling the sharp plains of him underneath her, and she tries to sit up, but he pulls the blanket around her and uses it to yank her back down towards him so hard she’s almost winded against the hard, flat top of his ribcage.

She squints down at him.

“You’re too skinny,” she tells him accusingly, and he just looks up at her, eyebrow raised, as she adds: “No wonder you’re always cold.”

“Ain’t that what I got you for?” he asks, and Beth rolls her eyes, about to tell him no, actually, but he does have her to go to this meeting with him, thank you very much, when suddenly he pulls her close to him, shoving his freezing hands down the back of her sweat pants, squeezing her ass over her panties before changing his mind and shoving his hands beneath those as well. Beth makes a noise she’s pretty sure only dogs can hear, trying to wriggle away from him, and Rio just laughs, rolling her onto her side and rubbing his icy nose against her neck.

“Mmm, feelin’ warmer already,” he purrs, rolling his hips against hers, and Beth groans in the least sexy way possible, trying to wriggle away from his cold hands. It’s no good though, they’re too big and – when he feels her moving – too firm.

“Yeah, well, believe it or not, I’m not,” she hisses in reply, and Rio sits back enough to look down at her, pulling one of his hands off her ass.

“Yeah? Damn. Think I got a few ideas on how we fix that though.”

Beth gives him an unimpressed look at that, and when she goes to push him off her, he grabs both her wrists in his hand and gives her a shit eating grin. It’s enough to make her smile way too sweetly in reply, lifting her leg until she can get her foot against his hip, kicking him back, when he glances down, eyebrow arched, and promptly lets go of her wrists to tug on her (well, his) black sock.

“Oh, so you’ve started stealin’ my socks now?” he says, and Beth curls her toes to stop him from pulling it off her. They really are warmer, she thinks, even if they swallow practically half her leg.

“Well, since stealing your money and your business worked out so well for me, I figured I should see how this went,” she says with a sniff, just to see the way his forehead furrows, his lips part, unimpressed.

“Oh, is that right?”

A giggle escapes Beth’s mouth before she can help it, and Rio grabs her ankle, pushing it away so he can better slide between her legs, laying flush against her, and she almost hates the way her breath hitches, the way he notices it – of course he notices it – and well, she thinks, blinking suddenly when she feels his half-hard cock push against her cunt. She keens before she can help that too, feeling the heat pool low in her.

“You warmin’ up yet, mama?” he asks her, the hand down the back of her pants shifting, moving around to her hip, playing with the lace of her panties, keeps moving, until his cold fingers are slipping between her folds, and she jumps, fingernails digging into his neck, and god, when had her hands even moved there?

“We haven’t finished this conversation,” she promises him, squinting, and he nods, faux serious, but there’s a look in his eye that tells her he knows that too, and as long as he does, Beth thinks, surging up to kiss him.

That’s really all that matters.

[marleegh-blog]

The Predators downed St

San Antonio is taking its cue from the Houston, TX, school district. It began using RFID chips to monitor students on 13 campuses in 2004. Houston's Spring Independent School District gave 28,000 students RFID badges to record when they get on and off school buses.

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