#she rang up in the afternoon today and said 'why is [new girl] sending emails she said she would do filing on Wednesday afternoons!!!!'

[fazcinatingblog]

Read SLS plssss it’s killing me that you just won’t

Oh I forgot I'm sorry I just made muffins and then had scrambled eggs with Adam Cerra tomatoes for dinner, I'm sorry I'll just wash up and read a chapter it'll be fine there's still heaps of time left before bedtime tonight, so much time in the day and

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluffiest fluff ever, jealous amoreena, jealous spencer, the LaMontagne family is in this too !!

word count: 3.8K

from the beginning <3

He went to work with Y/N on Tuesday to fill out all the paperwork and officially become an employee at the D.C Public Library. He signed a contract, he was switched over to a different government healthcare, answering a million calls and emails all morning, he was officially not an FBI agent.

They had lunch together in the park, buying some sandwiches and walking across the street to a picnic table to talk about their days while they ate. He liked her co-workers, they all were shocked to find out she was “married” to him after being single the whole time she’s worked there.

They had plans to go get Amoreena from school a few minutes early, before heading to meet his mother, not telling her about the plans unless Diana had a bad day last minute and couldn’t see them. So far, according to the nurses, she was lucid and having a great day waiting for them.

“So about yesterday morning,” Y/N changed the subject, biting her lip like she was avoiding this.

“What about it?”

“Amoreena really wants us to have a wedding, I was thinking we could go up to New York for fathers day and have another fake wedding?” Y/N hypothesized her plan, hoping for Spencer’s approval.

He couldn’t help but smile, about to answer when he got an email on his phone. “I’d love to do that, it would be nice to go on a vacation with just as the three of us.”

“You can check that,” she said, noticing he looked at his phone as it buzzed.

It was an email. Not from anyone he knew, it wasn’t about work or healthcare, it wasn’t his mom or Penelope sending him funny things from the internet…

No, it was from Taylor Swift. He tried his best to calm his facial reactions and micro-expressions so she’d think it was just something work-related. An emailed contract, updated health forms, nothing too serious.

To: Spencer Reid From: Taylor Swift Subject: Amoreena

Hey Spencer!

Portia reached out and said that your wife and daughter are huge fans and you were interested in some summer tickets in Virginia… I was thinking if you guys ever found yourself in Rhode Island you’d all want to come to my place, my doors always open for friends 💛 Love Taylor xx

“What?” Y/n asked, trying to read over his shoulder as he turned the phone away.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, locking his phone and putting it in his pocket to reply to her later. “Have you ever thought about a beach wedding? Rhode Island is pretty nice in June.”

She tilted her head as she bit back a smile, wondering what he was planning, “Amoreena will have us reenact the little mermaid 2 instead of Enchanted then, just fyi, but yeah that sounds fun, we should get a beach house on Airbnb for the weekend.”

“Okay, let me handle it all, you don’t need to plan a single thing, just show up with a dress?” Spencer offered, knowing how scared weddings made her now.

She kissed his cheek softly, resting her chin on his shoulder as she leaned over on him, “nothing fancy or crazy okay?”

“Define crazy?” He teased her… she really had no idea what was coming.

To: Taylor Swift From: Spencer Reid Subject: RE: Amoreena

Thank you so much for the quick response and generous offer, we were thinking of having a small elopement in Rhode Island with just the three of us over Father’s Day weekend if that works for you? Seven is the song we danced to at our intimate personal wedding, however, Amoreena’s pretty sad she didn’t get to witness it, that’s why we’re having another one with her. (And hopefully you!) Thank you for making my girls so happy over all the years that I didn’t know them yet, you’re probably their favourite person in the world, even more so than me! It would mean everything to them to meet you or see you in any way, you’re incredibly kind for this.

Thanks again, Spencer Reid x

He tried his best to be as calm and nice as possible in his response, still managing to rant a little even in text format. It was just how he communicated, either not at all or all at once. He was so excited for Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you said your mom has a scrapbook,” Y/N changed the subject after Spencer spent 5 minutes in silence, turned away from her as he answered an email.

“She does, she’s going to show you a lot of photos of me today,” he smiled at the fact she remembered.

“I know you want to tell her about Amoreena alone before we come in, so I made her something for her scrapbook, it’s back on my desk drying,” Y/N was so precious as she got excited, that same giddiness he see’s in Amoreena bursting through her.

“Okay, let’s go see it,” he put his phone in his pocket and followed her back across the street towards the library.

On some beautiful floral scrapbook paper, Y/N glued an array of photos of Amoreena from the beginning all the way to the museum trip last week.

A photo of her first round of IVF, dated February 19th, 2013. Exactly 1 month after he donated, she must have chosen his sample as soon as it entered the system, even a photo of the sample jar reading “sample 2319”, A photo of her crying in the garden with her grandma when she found it she was pregnant, wrapped in a big coat and surrounded by snow. Her pregnancy announcement being a baby sock on a stuffed toy Sully from Monsters Inc, "new door opening November 2013!" Amoreena has been surrounded by references to books and movies since the beginning.

There was a photo from the moment Amoreena was born, crying and brand-new, resting on Y/N’s chest as she sobbed, more beautiful than he’s ever seen her before, completely in love with the child she made.

Amoreena Margery Y/L/N - November 13th, 2013, 9:53 pm 7lbs 12oz, 21 inches of perfection

“Her middle name is Margery?”

“Yeah,” she smiled back at his ever glowing face, wondering why it was so important to him. “Like Margery Kempe, my grandma’s favourite.”

“She’s my mom’s favourite too,” Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, it was such a strange turn of events. He saw so much of his mother in Amoreena just for her to have a middle name related to her.

Y/N couldn’t believe it, “I’m so excited to meet her!”

“I just hope she’s okay today, truly,” Spencer worried. “She is my best friend and a great mother, don’t get me wrong. But some of the things she did to me on her bad days were scary, and I never want Amoreena to experience that.”

Y/N pulled him into a hug, “it’s hereditary isn’t it?” He nodded against her shoulder as she tried to soothe all the impending anxiety out of his body. “I’m not going anywhere, she won't have to raise herself and care for you, that’ll never happen to her.”

She guessed, and she was right. Reading his mind like she’s already been in there and watched all his trauma, she knew all the right words and how exactly to push his feelings away. She was sunshine clearing his grey skies once more, about to cause a drought so he’d no longer rain on his own parade. Marching beside him, hand in hand into the future.

—

They waited at the gate of Amoreena’s school, none of the other parents were waiting yet, giving Y/N a chance to show Spencer around the yard and tell him about her school. “She’s in senior kindergarten, she has a November birthday so I opted to send her in when she was 6 instead of 5, giving me an extra year of home pre-school.”

“That’s why she’s so smart, not my genes,” Spencer smiled, walking around the edge of the gate with her hand still in his.

“They want her to jump right into grade 5 next year, I said no, she deserves a childhood with children she doesn’t have to compete with or see her as a threat,” Y/N voice was stern even in the recounting like she knew from experience. “Because she’ll be 8 in November she’s going into grade 2 instead, then she’ll be in the same age range and mental level, but all her friends she knows in grade 1 will be in the same recess yard as her.”

“I went from kindergarten to grade 4, then I jumped to grade 6 when I was 9 and I graduated high school at 13, it was terrible,” Spencer agreed, not knowing if he had a place in the decision but wanting her to know he agreed with it.

“Let’s go inside and get her,” Y/N smiled at him, understanding his meaning perfectly and dragging him into the school.

“Hello miss Ludlough,” Y/N beamed as she entered the main office with her arm tucked under Spencers, showing him off slightly.

“Y/N, good afternoon! Do you need me to call that little angel down early?” The secretary was a lovely older woman, wrinkled and happy as she smiled back.

“No, I just need to get some paperwork to put her dad in the files?” Y/N surprised Spencer with that and he almost stopped breathing.

“Really?” He whispered, capturing her attention as her eyes twinkled up at him.

“I’d like you on her emergency contacts, if they can’t get ahold of me I’d like you to be with her,” Y/N confirmed, patting his shoulder softly as Miss Ludlough handed her a few forms.

Spencer signed everywhere he needed to, handing them his licence to be photocopied into her file for proof when he picked her up in the future. He was glad to see there was a system, that they cared for his little girl and she wasn’t going to be going home with anyone who wasn’t in that file. And if she did he had no problem hunting them down and getting her back in whatever way he had to…

He shook the thought out of his head as it arises, reminding himself that that isn’t who he is now and she would be fine. They lived in a happy world where bad things didn’t happen.

Y/N’s hand rubbing his lower back helped, he stood straight again and pushed the papers over the desk, smiling as he officially became her father on 3 different sheets of paper. That was as real as it could get.

“Spence?” He heard an all to familiar voice from behind him.

Turning to see JJ and Will smiling with wide arms, waiting for his embrace. “What are you doing here?” She asked him, voice high as she was clearly shocked.

He walked into her arms and held her quickly, “I’m here with my wife,” breaking the news to her in the most casual way possible. “Picking up our kid.”

“Y/N?” Will noticed her then, “holy shit, you’re the wife?”

She nodded with a smile, hugging will quickly like she has known him for years, “how are you, cowboy?”

Spencer and JJ looked at each other incredibly confused, JJ clearly didn’t know her so how did Will?

“Will and I have been on what, 6 school trips together? Michael and Amoreena are buddies,” Y/N explained with a soft smile, “I knew Henry and Michaels's names sounded familiar…”

“Nini thinks I’m a cowboy,” Will laughed lightly, smiling at Y/N the way he did at JJ and something in Spencer almost snapped thinking about Will being the one person between him and the girl he liked, once again.

Only this time she was his wife and not the cute media liaison who had no interest in him until he came out of prison.

“She was very upset when she found out that Will was already married, she wanted us to be Woody and Jessie from toy story,” Y/N had no problem ranting about how their kids got along and how good of friends they had become over the last 2 years of school trips.

Y/N noticed the anxiety in Spencer’s eyes as he pulled away from JJ and made sure no one was touching him, “luckily, our little girl’s got the best daddy in the whole world now and all her dreams came true.”

“She sure does,” JJ agreed, “Hey, I gave your mom all those books you gave me for the boys, when you were away, so she had something to keep remembering you with, you should give them to Amoreena.”

“I will, we’re going to see her tonight,” he was able to push past the feelings and enjoy the moment of his friends meeting his wife, even if the title was just pretend.

“I’m so excited,” Y/N shook her hands the same way Amoreena did, stepping into Spencer's space and wrapping her arm around him. “Can we pick her up from the room Miss Ludlough?”

“Sure thing, do you want me to call down and say Mikey’s parents are here too?”

“Yes, please,” JJ smiled over the counter.

With the four of them walking down the hall together to get their kids, Spencer felt like he was sleepwalking. Too many emotions were running through his veins to feel real, but then Y/N took his hand in hers and rested her cheek against his arm as they walked and he was fine.

She tugged on his arm and waited in the hallway while JJ and Will entered the classroom first, “what’s wrong, she’ll know you’re upset?”

He sighs, shaking the stupidity out of his mind. “I had a huge crush on JJ before they got pregnant with Henry, and when I came back from prison she told me she had always loved me and it got weird for a bit and I’m still kinda mad when I see Will bond with the people I love.”

“I was wondering when you’d get possessive,” she teased him, “I’m yours and I wouldn’t have your ring on if I wasn’t, no matter how another man looks at me, I only love you.”

“I’m sorry, I know.”

“It’s okay, you’re not used to this are you?” She saw right through it. “Am I your first real girlfriend?”

“Kinda, Maeve and I never even really met until she was kidnapped,” he admits and it sounds so childish in his mind.

“Okay we’ll talk about this later cause that sounds like a good story I should know,” she tried to smile, standing on her tiptoes to peck his lips softly before smiling more. “Let’s go get your kid?”

“Let's,” his smile returned.

They turned the corner into the vibrant room, Amoreena was talking to Will when she noticed Spencer at the door, running towards him and almost pushing Will over to do so, “Dad!”

He picked her up and snuggled right into the crook of her little neck, giving her the biggest hug he’s ever given and not realizing just how much he missed her until she was back in his arms again. His baby, the littlest life he’s ever held this close to his heart.

When he put her down he noticed all the women’s eyes were on him, hands over their hearts at the pure display of affection between father and daughter. They all saw him as her dad, they had no reason not to, giving him all the attention he’s never received before.

“What are you doing here?” Her tiny voice asked as she beamed at him with wonder.

He kneeled in front of her to get on her eye level when Michael came running over, “Hi uncle Spencer!” He tackled him into a hug.

“Uncle Spencer?” Amoreena’s brow furrowed as she scowled at the boy taking her dad’s attention, she pulled Michael back by his shirt. “That’s my dad!”

“Amoreena, honey,” Spencer tried not to laugh, she was definitely his kid, “Michels mom, JJ, is my best friend from work and I’m his older brother Henry’s godfather, they’re your cousins.”

She looked at him like he was insane, “what’s a godfather?”

“If anything bad happens to his mommy or daddy and they can’t take care of them, they’ll come live with us,” it was the simplest answer, “I’m not their father, I’m yours.”

She nodded and hugged him again, sticking her tongue out at Michael in the process, “why are you here?” She repeated the question.

Y/N was standing over him with a hand on his shoulder then, “we’re taking you to meet your other grandma.”

Amoreena started to shake with excitement, moving her hands and grinding her teeth as she smiles, shrieking with excitement, “I have another grandma!?”

JJ was watching from the corner of the room, secretly filming it on her phone for the rest of the team to see Spencer with his baby. A sight many of them never thought they’d ever see as he slowly lost hope, losing himself somewhere along the way and no longer wanting to accept their help. This was a big moment for the team too, their little brother was finally happy.

—

In the car, Spencer sat with Amoreena in the back seat so he could tell her everything about her new grandma. Or as Amoreena wanted to call her, Princess Diana, “I can’t believe you’re actually royalty!”

They all laugh at how her fantastic little brain works, “you can’t tell anyone that Princess Diana is in DC okay? It’s a government secret!” Y/N teased from the driver's seat.

“I’m like Princess Mia!” She screamed at the top of her lungs and Spencer was astounded she could be that loud.

“Okay, okay, not that loud! we can't scare any of the people who live here. They like it to be calm and quiet so the patients can be happy,” Y/N settled her down, “Dad is going to go in and tell grandma all about us for a little while and then we’ll go meet her okay? He wants to make sure she’s happy today before we go in.”

With that, they were pulling into his mother's care facility and he felt like he was going to be sick with excitement. He used to visit his mother with the fear of rage and disappointment in her eyes, he was too proud to let his anxiety take that from him today.

He kissed her forehead before getting out, Y/N handed him the scrapbook pages through the window and he leaned inside to give her a kiss too. Receiving a disgusted groan from Amoreena, he pulled away and walked into the building while they found a place to park.

She was waiting for him in the garden, sitting at a picnic table with her scrapbook and gifts for Amoreena. “Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled as he hugged her, “how are you feeling?”

“Fantastic, where is this family you made?” She was so ready to meet them, truly there inside her mind and willing to learn more about this life he was making.

“Sit down first,” he said softly, taking a seat beside her at the table and placing the scrapbook page on the table. “This is my Amoreena.”

Her fingers glided over the words, “Margery,” she repeated her middle name with a smile. “She has a sperm donor for a father?”

“I’m a sperm donor, mom,” he smiled softly as he broke the news.

She turned to him with shock, “she’s yours?”

“We think so, so that’s what we’re telling people, she’s mine regardless.”

Diana wrapped him up in another hug, “I’m so happy for you Spencer. You always deserved a perfect family, I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you. I hope your dreams come true with her.”

Just like that Amoreena and Y/N were rounding the corner and walking over towards their table. She had a huge smile on her face and a card in her hand, walking right up to Diana and handing it to her.

“Hi, grandma, I’m Amoreena,” she introduced herself politely before stretching her arms out for a hug.

Diana wrapped her up in the softest little hug, trying not to cry in front of her brand new granddaughter, which was fine because Spencer was the one crying. Turning away from them so Amoreena wouldn’t see as Y/N patted his arm with a smile.

They were fast friends, Y/N and Diana bonding over Margery Kempe and while Amoreena opened the two gifts Diana got for her, a simple colouring book and Spencer's original copy of Matilda from when he was a child. She sat down in the grass and read it while they all caught up, lost in her own little world.

It was the most perfect afternoon, just him and his family, happier than he’s ever dreamed he could be.

—

He checked his phone one last time before bed, Y/N was sitting against the headboard reading a book and so deep in the story, he knew she wouldn’t be able to read over his shoulder.

Scrolling through everything from the day to see that yes, there was a response from Taylor Swift. It felt insane, but he opened it and started to read her plans.

Spencer!! You’re so sweet, I’m sure you make them incredibly happy! I’d love to have you stay in the guest house here, and I’m ordained if you need someone to make it real and official ♥︎ let me know what I can do, I’d love to help in any way to make some fairytale dreams come true! Taylor xx

Smiling like an idiot, he closed his phone. He’d reply tomorrow, till then he was going to snuggle into his wife and appreciate their time together.

She lifted an arm to let him lay against her chest, “today she woke up and decided to be an explorer, the little girl with the wildest imagination stormed out of her home and towards the unknown part of her land. It was her destiny to travel across the bridge and unite the people beyond the field, towards the pond that was swallowed by willow trees,” Y/N read the grandmother's thoughts from the page.

“With her wooden sword, she sliced and diced on the ivy that surrounded the gate. Freeing the hinges and allowing the entrance to swing open, unlocking a new area of the world for her mind to wander.

“For what the regular human eye saw, Amoreena saw it times a million. Every colour and then some, new colours appearing in the morning glow as she stared at the dew on the leaves she just chopped through. She saw the world in a way that made everything exciting, there was never a bad thing, only good things with interesting quirks.

“She passed every mushroom and toadstool, every strange-looking tree and human-shaped moss ball, greeting them with a good morning as she strolled through the once-forbidden forest. Her adventure only beginning, the objective not yet known.”

“Your grandma could see the future,” Spencer whispered as she turned the page, “that’s our wonderful little girl’s mind in words.”

Y/N kissed the top of his head, “our wonderful little girl.” She repeated the words, loving the way they sounded on his tongue as much as he loved how she said it.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 16

A/N: Sorry for the delay...but I think you’ll forgive me for the wait. 😏

December 18th - Part 1

DeeDee checked herself out in the mirror. She had on her favorite pantsuit and decided on a low slicked back chignon for her hair. She ran her hands down the suit jacket one last time and looked at her reflection.

“Today’s the day, DeeDee. We have worked so hard to get here and we deserve everything that is coming to our way.” She smiled and put her tortoise shell glasses on.  “I’m proud of you and everything you will go on to accomplish starting today.”

DeeDee heard her phone chime and buzz across her dresser. She walked over and picked it up. It was Phyllis in the group chat.

Phyll: Your presentation is at 4pm, right?

DeeDee: Yes

Phyll: The Engineering building?

DeeDee: Yup

Phyll: What room?

DeeDee: 1759

Phyll: We’ll see you there. 

DeeDee: Great, see you later.

Bev: We love you, DeeDee. 

DeeDee: Love you, too.

DeeDee made her way out to the living room and grabbed her purse and laptop case from next to her desk. She locked up and headed to campus to get settled in for a long day. 

---

Erik was cleaning up his desk. He came in early to send out the last of his work emails before he left for a week. He locked up his computer and stood up to leave when T’Challa walked in and stood near his desk. 

“Hey Cuz.”

“You leave today, right?”

“Yup, my flight leaves in 2 hours.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited to see Dr. Bell. She helped me work through a lot of shit while I was in school.”

“That is expected, but you know what I mean.” 

T’Challa took a seat in front of Erik’s desk. He pointed towards the chair across from him. Erik put his briefcase down and took a seat. 

“How are you feeling?”

Erik is quiet for a moment, deep in thought. “Ready.” 

“And you are sure?”

“You and Quis, I swear.” He rolled his eyes. “I get it. I messed up before. But at least, she showed her true self before I made a horrible decision.” 

“Erik, we ask because we care.” T’Challa sat forward in the chair, “You were in such a rush to find the one and get married. You never took the time to really get to know her.” 

“I know, I know.”

“You told her exactly what she needed to hear for her to act like the woman for you.” He put emphasis on act. “And she tried to trap you. So, yes we want to make sure that you know what the hell you are doing this time around.”

“I don’t need to be reminded of that fuck up.” He sighed, “Besides Quis said she is nothing like her. And I do know that for myself, too.”

“Marquis knows her?”

“Yeah, she is one of his doctoral students. Actually, hold on a sec.” He pulled out his phone. He went to a text thread, where his previous text was still unread.

Prince Erik: Good morning DeeDee. I hope you have a great day.

Prince Erik: Hey, you never did tell me how your presentation went. Let me know where we are celebrating.

Erik looked back at T’Challa, “Where was I? Right, DeeDee was one of his students.”

“Ok, and what do you know about her?” 

“I know that she is everything I am looking for. She’s smart, funny and sweet. She calls me on my crap. Even if she is super nice about it.”

T’Challa nodded his head, “And you are ready for her? 

“Yes, I am. And I know I deserve someone like her.” Erik smiled, “All the bullshit I went through in my last relationship, let me know I wasn’t ready back then. You’re right, I rushed and almost got in too deep with someone, who was all wrong for me.”

T’Challa looked at Erik, then touched his ring, “Does she know?” 

“Yeah, and doesn’t even care.” He smiled, “I’m telling you, T. She is it.”

“For your sake, I really hope she is.” 

He stood up and Erik followed. 

“I’ll be fine.” Erik looked at his watch, “I should get going. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Until then, cousin.” T’Challa hugged him, and then Erik grabbed his things. They left his office together. 

---

DeeDee has watched three other defenses already. They were breaking for lunch before reconvening for the last two of the day. She made her way back to Dr. O’s office. He was letting her use it for the day. 

“Hey DeeDee, how you feeling?”

“Hi Dr. O. I’m ok.” She took a seat on the couch. “I am not feeling as nervous now, but I am definitely ready for it to be over.”

“I get it. I’m so sorry that you couldn’t go earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m hoping they chose to give me the last spot because they liked my topic best.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Thanks, Dr. O.” Her phone goes off, “Ooooh, let me go get my friends. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll see you back in the main room.”

DeeDee checked her phone and went outside to meet with Beverly and Phyllis. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Phyllis, but she had chatted with Beverly since that disastrous night out.  

They ran up to her and gave her hugs. 

“I’m so sorry girl.” Phyllis said as they all stepped back.

“I don’t know what’s going on. But don’t take that out on me.” DeeDee finally spoke.

“I know, I know. I just -” 

“Men trouble.” Bev nodded towards Phyllis.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Your new friend, Erik.”

“What about him?” DeeDee rolled her eyes, “You know what, we can discuss this later. It’s time for the next presentation to start.”

All three of them walked to the room and DeeDee led them to seats in the center on the left-hand side. She returned to her spot up front and sat down to wait for the next doctoral student to present.

---

Marquis’ cell rang while he sat in his office. 

“Hey E. What’s up man?”

“I’m back.” 

“Wait! You’re already here?”

“Yeah, I just made it to my hotel. Figured I would hit you up to see what you’re doing tonight.” 

“Just a simple dinner with the fam. But you are more than welcome to join us.” Marquis pulled his phone away and looked at the time, “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Come visit me on campus.”

“Seriously?”

“You ain’t doing nothing and I have to be here, so yeah. Just bring ya ass.”

“Is your office in the Engineering building?”

“Yeah, I’m in 1590, at the end of the main hall.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in 30.”

“Great, text me if I’m not in my office when you arrive.”

---

DeeDee blinked and the presentation after their lunch break was over. She sighed and looked back at her friends. She didn’t bother to invite any members of her family. They would see her on Christmas and besides she wanted to concentrate on her presentation. It would not happen if she saw them in the audience, clapping and cheering before she could even talk. 

She went to them, “I gotta grab my things from Dr. O’s office. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Yeah, ok. I need to use the bathroom.” Phyllis said as she stood up. “Bev, you good here?”

“Actually, I’ll go with you, DeeDee.” 

Walking out of the room, DeeDee reminded Phyllis where the first floor bathroom was and they all split once they got to the hallway. 

---

Erik entered the building and stood at the top of the hallway. Not much had changed about the old building. He walked over to the directory and looked at the faculty names. He recognized a few of them and ran his hand over Dr. Bell’s name. It showed her office was across the hall from Marquis’. Great.

He started walking down the long hall, when a voice called out to him.

“Excuse me?”

The feminine voice caught his attention. He slowed to a stop.

“Yes, you. Are you lost?" He could hear the click clack of heels, “Maybe I can help you.”

He turned around to see a young woman in a suit approach him. 

“Oh no, I’m fine. But thank you.”

“You sure?” 

Erik watched as she looked him up and down. He gathered himself, “I’m positive, I’ve been here before.”

“Really? I’m here often and I would have remembered you.” Her voice dropped an octave.

“I bet you would.” He laughed, “Look, I really should be going. My friend is waiting for me in his office.” He looked behind her, “And it looks like someone is looking for you.”

She turned around and saw hands waving dramatically in the air. 

“Phyllis, hurry up. It’s gonna start soon.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” She turned back around to look at Erik, “I hope I get to see you again.”

He nodded at her and made his way down the hall. “Not if I can help it,” He mumbled.

Erik knocked on Marquis’ office door. He pitched his voice. “Excuse me, Dr. O.” 

“Why are you knocking? Come on in.”

He walked in and Marquis jumped up when he saw him.

“I thought. You know what -- nevermind.” He gave Erik a hug, “How you doing man?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” 

“You look it. Still living at the gym when you aren’t at work, I see.”

“I mean, you know. I never again want to look like the stick that shared an award with you.”

They both laughed.

“So, why are you still here on a Friday afternoon? You could be on your break already.”

“I will be. Immediately after this last doctoral defense presentation.”

Erik huffed and pulled out his phone. He hadn’t heard anything from DeeDee yet today. He shook his head and put it away.

“So, those were today?”

“Yup. There is one more and then we can go get drinks before I take you to see the family.”

“Yeah, sure that’s fine.”

Marquis locked up his office and they walked down the hall to the main room.

---

Erik sat in the back row out of the way, while Marquis walked to the front and gathered everyone’s attention. As he looked out ahead of him, he saw the girl from earlier seated on the opposite side from him. She was talking to her friend and kept looking back at him. 

“This cannot be good.” He returned his focus to Marquis up front.  

“Thank you all for being here all day today. We are ready to start our final defense presentation.” Marquis nodded to a young woman on his left who walked over and took the clicker from him.

When she turned around to address everyone, Erik gasped. It was her. He was looking at DeeDee. She pressed the clicker for her starting slide and began to speak.  

Erik took her in while she spoke. She definitely could not hide from him now. DeeDee was dressed in a burgundy and black houndstooth patterned pant suit with a burgundy blouse. It fit her very well, and he could make out her wide hips and the chest that prevented her from closing the blazer. He bit his lip to keep from making an inappropriate sound. Her dark curls were pulled back in a sleek low bun with loose tendrils hanging out. He hadn’t seen those glasses before, but the cat eye shape looked really cute on her. 

He tried to fully focus on what she was saying, but was glad that she asked him for advice a few weeks before. He would catch a word or two and know where she was. Erik continued his physical assessment of her while DeeDee’s presentation continued.

DeeDee was much shorter than he thought, but he loved the idea of her looking up at him or having to get on her tiptoes to kiss him. He smiled as her nose scrunched up while she spoke about environmental waste and how her study addressed it. He saw her infamous full cheeked smile when she answered questions from the panel and audience. 

When he was done getting his fill of her, he could hear the applause and she sat back down while the panel spoke amongst themselves.

He was so proud of her. She handled herself very well up there. And although he never expected to see her real presentation, he was happy to have been there. 

---

Everyone has walked to the front to congratulate DeeDee who was just told that she cleared her defense and that the panel was recommending the certification of her Ph.D.

DeeDee saw Beverly and Phyllis first. They both ran over to her, giving her hugs and praise. She smiled at her two friends.

“Thank you both for being here.”

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, hun.” Beverly spoke up for them.

DeeDee pulled away from them and headed over to Dr. O. He was standing next to a man in a nice black suit, who was a few inches taller than him. She tapped Dr. O on the shoulder, he turned back, saw it was DeeDee and gave her a hug. She pulled away and noticed that the gentleman next to him was staring intently at her. 

When DeeDee looked over, she saw very familiar short dreads with a shadow fade, a neatly trimmed beard and the same dimples that she had been dreaming about recently. It can’t be.

“Erik?” She breathily asked.

“In the flesh.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“You know I came for Dr. Bell’s retirement party.” 

“Yeah, but I thought you would be here tomorrow or Sunday. But you are here. At my defense.” She stepped back to look up at him. 

“I am and it’s nice to meet you, Dr. Deidre Chabert.” He held his hands out.

She smiled brightly at him and walked forward into his arms. He engulfed her in a big hug. 

“Let me take you out to celebrate tonight.” Erik said into her ear. He looked over DeeDee’s head and saw the two women from earlier staring at them. 

“I would like that.” She mumbled into his chest.

“Good, go get your things.” 

She pulled out of his embrace and stared at her friends who were now behind her. DeeDee slid by them and went to get her things.

“So, how do you know DeeDee?” Beverly asked him cheerfully.

Phyllis just stared at him, arms crossed against her chest. DeeDee bounced back over to everyone with her bags.

“Hey guys, I want you to meet Erik.” 

“What? Mr. Note in the textbook? No way.”

“Guilty.” He replied.

“Do you mind if we get together to celebrate later this week or next weekend?”

“Sure sweetie.” Beverly spoke up. “Have fun, but not too much.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you later, Dee.” Phyllis gave her a half hug and stormed past her.

Beverly gave her a hug and walked out after Phyllis. 

“I have questions, but I’m gonna wait.” Dr. O turned to DeeDee, “You’re still coming over to go to the Christmas Festival with us tomorrow, right?”

“And miss an opportunity to see my favorite girl. Not a chance. Besides, I don’t think she will forgive me.”

“Great. Well, you two enjoy your evening.” Dr. O daps Erik, “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

“Definitely. Goodnight Quis.” 

Erik grabbed DeeDee’s things, “You want to leave your car here or drop it off at your place?”

“You can follow me home.”

He extended his arm as they walked out of the room, “Lead the way, Dr. DeeDee.”

“Don’t you start that mess.” She bumped him with her shoulder.

“Would you prefer Dr., Miss or Little?”

“Little?”

With his free hand, he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. “You are much smaller than me.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how much.” He squeezed her hand.

“Watch it, Mr. Erik.”

“Or what?”

“I don’t know yet, but you will find out.” She returned the squeeze.

Taglist: @teakturn​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shaekingshitup​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ladymac82​ @bugngiz​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​ @killmonger-fics​ @beautifullmelodyxx​ @raysunshine78​ @fd-writes​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @just-peachee​ @kaleidoscopeofsoul​

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 78

~*~Sebastian~*~

The sun shone brightly when we woke up. I made Emma coffee first and we sat at the bar with fruit and yogurt. I wasn’t particularly hungry. Nauseated, if I’m honest. Emma was going home today. Yes, it was only for a couple of days, but that wasn’t what the problem was. I was afraid of how I would feel when she left. We’ve been together almost a week. We said I love you. Went to a concert with her friends, planned a vacation with mine, and celebrated a month together. Everything is wonderful. I don’t know how it will be when she leaves. Will I be melodramatically sad, anxious, and insecure that while she’s away she’ll figure out she prefers to be without me, or when she leaves will I be glad to have my space back? Realistically, the panic is more likely to come when she leaves France and we’re apart for six weeks. Today’s just a preview.

Around noon Emma was ready to leave. She’d gone through the bags of new stuff and left what she wanted to take to France. No sense packing it home only to bring it back. Especially when she was dealing with her suitcase on the train. Early afternoon was the best time to get her back. I walked her downstairs to her Uber and stopped by the security office to find out where the parking garage was. The security guard walked outside with us and pointed to a keypad on a pole next to the building. I walked into the building hundreds of times and never really noticed the large panes of windows that matched my building was a garage door. The same code that worked on the outside door worked on the garage and my spot was the same as my apartment number. That’s easy.

The Uber driver took Emma’s suitcase and lifted it into the trunk while we said goodbye. “I love you and I’ll see you Thursday.”

Emma kissed me and patted my chest, “I’ll let you know when I’m home.”

“Thank you.” I’m always going to worry about her getting home safe. Can’t wait until there’s snow and she’s driving to work or worse, here. I kissed her again, told her I loved her and tucked her in the car. Stood on the sidewalk until she turned the corner too. Avoided going back upstairs by running across the street and getting a bottle of something. Didn’t really matter what. I wasn’t thirsty. Took a walk around the block to drink my bottle of whatever. Finally, throwing the bottle away in the garbage can at the end of the block, I headed back upstairs.

I walked in my door and stood there with my hands on my hips, waiting for something to happen. Everything looked the same. Felt the same. Not sure what I expected. The apartment wasn’t going to suddenly have a portal to hell open up in between the dining table and couch. If it happened, it would be in the guest bathroom. Maybe my closet. I checked both to be sure. Nope, no portals. What I did find in the master bath was a mauve lipstick kiss print on the mirror. It was at my eye level but on the edge close to the wall. I smiled, thinking how she would have had to crawl onto the counter to put it there. I imagined she’d get the same thrill when she found the notes I’d hidden at her place and school.

A little over two hours later my phone rang. The prettiest girl in the world was calling me, “Hello, beautiful.”

She grinned, “Hey, handsome.  I’m home.”

Emma turned her phone around to show me her family room. “I can see that. How was the trip?”

“Uneventful.”

“Perfect.”

“What have you been up to since I last saw you?” The lilt of curiosity in her voice was funny.

“I’ve been busy. Checking email and seeing everything has changed.”

“You’re very flexible.”

“Not nearly as flexible as you, my love.” We shared a dirty smile. “Now, we’re shooting in Paris instead of London. Which is convenient and doesn’t require a flight. And tonight I’m having dinner with a former spy.”

Her eyes lit up, “That sounds fun.”

“It does.”  I agreed. “I’ve been trying to schedule something with him for a while. Finally worked out. It will be good to get in person and ask questions about all the shit I’ve been reading and watching.”

“I’m excited for you. You can get the psychological emotional part down. I imagine in person makes it easier to internalize.”

Not that I doubted, but she’d been paying attention when I’d talked. Her interest in the how and why of the craft side was as enjoyable for me as it was her. I wanted to show her more. I wanted to know about how she taught too, how she knew what to do and how she designed lessons. Which reminded me, “Add me to your online classroom so I can watch you teach.” There’s the added bonus of pretty much having her “on demand” if I wanted to see and hear her. I had the video from the party with her, Eli, and Boone too. That would make a long night alone a little more . . . stimulating.

We didn’t talk long. I was having an early dinner to allow plenty of time to talk and I needed to shower and get ready. Emma needed to unpack and start gathering things to repack. There’s also the part about she’d just left.

Dinner lasted much later than I’d anticipated. It was awesome. Dan told me stories and let me pick his brain. I told him about my part in the movie and he was able to give me some specifics. Not that I’d play the part exactly as he’d said, but I knew what to avoid, what wasn’t realistic. I liked that because a complete mismatch with reality could put me into my head and that’s the last place I wanted to be.

The next morning I hit the gym and had a good workout. Mirrors everywhere told me I needed more than a little personal grooming before leaving. A haircut was already scheduled and I called the salon to add on what I thought I needed. I had lunch with my manager to go over the next few weeks. I don’t have a full time PR person, but I do have a firm with which I contract. Emily had been in contact with them. About my girlfriend. Amazing how fast my mood went from good to not.

“Seb, don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The annoyed one where you’re holding in a tirade.”

“I’m glad you recognize the precarious ground you’re standing on.” I drank the last of my wine and crossed my arms across my chest. “I’m going to sit here and be very quiet for a limited amount of time. Talk fast.” I don’t have many tirades. A big part of that is due to the relationship I have with Emily. She’s been with me forever. She knows when to push, when to back off, and when to let me have a tirade. Girlfriends are and always have been a tricky area. Usually, Emily wants me to be more open about a girlfriend. Much like what previous girlfriends wanted. That never turned out well for either of them. Emma was altogether in another class. I wasn’t sullen because I didn’t want to hear about what I should be doing. I was feeling protective and didn’t want business in my personal life. Same issue, different reasons.

“Everything is good. Emma is good. She doesn’t have much of a social media presence and hers is private. Family and friends sometimes tag her, but there’s nothing problematic out there. Once her name is out there she won’t be hard to find because you and several of your friends follow her. It’s a quick find that she’s a teacher, where she works, plays volleyball, has a twin, and has musician friends. She’s known by Pearl Jam fans. They’re protective of all the females in the band’s orbit. Best guess is anything negative is wiped quickly. We called Pearl Jam’s PR people and they’ve worked with her, so we don’t need to. Until something comes up and then we’ll probably have to work with you too. Unless you go silent again.”

I must have twitched.

Emily held her hands out like she was calming a wild animal. “Everyone’s a little concerned because you let Will post something. Oh, and any pictures of her in a bikini are always in a group.” She smiled comically and sat back.

“The ones she sends me are solos.”

“Good to know.”

I sat a second, my blood pressure dropping. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

I nodded and shrugged, “I told Will to post the picture. Don’t know exactly why. I’m happy. I’m in love. I’ve grown. Past is past and I’m moving to the future. All of them.”

“So, the comments and everything. You’re okay?”

“No, Emily, I’m wonderful.”

I waited until I got home to call Emma. She hit voice call. I pouted even though she couldn’t see. “I am at Target replenishing my travel supplies.”

“Sounds fun! Are you in for shampoo and leaving with three hundred dollars worth of who knows what?” Isn’t that the way it usually works at Target?

“I have a list. I’m staying away from parts of the store I don’t need to be in.”

“Smart. What time do you have to be at the court?”

“We’re going to meet for dinner about five. Game at seven.”

“Give Sam your phone so I can pack and watch.”

“I bet if you ask nicely she’ll alert you when something big is going on.”

“I’m a decent multitasker.”

“How was dinner with a spy?”

"Dinner with a spy was" I shook my head and looked up, "fascinating. Books, even non-fiction, and video are good, but watching his expression and mannerisms was so cool. Especially when he had neither." I went on talking while she shopped. She laughed and gasped at the same parts I had. I was excited to see how I could incorporate this new knowledge. We hung up when she was checking out.

~*~*~*~

"Sorry about the loss." I cringed to soften the blow. I knew she didn't like to lose. Who does?

Emma growled, "Frustrating. I want a chocolate brownie or something."

"I think the bakeries are closed." It was a little after ten. "I'll get you one tomorrow."

"You're the sweetest."

"When will you be here?"

"Well before lunchtime. I got everything packed before the game. I'll shower tonight. Get up and be on my way. Do you have plans?"

"Yes. Vanity kicked in. I have a facial and haircut, before therapy. Want a facial?"

"No seaweed."

"Damm, that's what I booked for you."

~*~*~

I spent the morning packing. I’m not a heavy packer. I’ll wear the same thing over and over. I’m working so costuming will be taking care of most of my clothes. I’m invited to the fashion show. Being dressed is part of the package. Emma and I had made a list of places we wanted to see and things we wanted to do while in Paris. I composed an email and sent it on to the hotel’s concierge. I heard back almost immediately. They would create an itinerary and we could adjust it once we arrived. Perfect.

Emma would be back about noon. Our spa treatments and my haircut were set for three and my therapy appointment was around five. I cleaned up around the place. Nothing drastic. I had a cleaning service come in after I go away. I just make sure everything’s put away.  I had my suitcase closed and in the dining area when my text notification went off.

Emma ~ Are you home?

Sebastian ~ Yes.

Emma ~ Alone?

Sebastian ~ Yes.

 I am sensing something is about to happen.

Emma ~ When I get there would you like to play a game?

Sebastian ~ Yes.

 I neither know nor care what she’s talking about. It would be nice to know what I’m going to be playing, though.

Sebastian ~ Could I get more details?

Emma ~ Porn

Sebastian ~ You want to watch porn?

Emma ~ Pretend we're in one. Over the top, things that only work in porn, excessive moaning, name calling, filthy talk porn.

 Fuck. I’ve watched enough porn to know how this was going to go.

Sebastian ~ Yes, I would like to play.

Emma ~ I never doubted you.

Sebastian ~ Are you texting and driving?

Emma ~ Traffic and voice to text. Delivery girl, booty call, escort? Me. This time.

Sebastian ~ I don't know yet.

Emma ~ Text when you do.

Sebastian ~ I love you.

Emma ~ I love you.

 Woman has been away for forty-eight hours and shows back up with this shit. I wasn't a sex-starved horn dog five minutes ago. I wonder what she's wearing? Delivery girl, booty call, escort. I like her choices. I have to seduce the delivery girl. Or be seduced. Booty call would be a repeat. Familiarity without expectations. There are zero expectations with an escort. Well, there are expectations, but only mine. I feel like it's a question of how selfish I want to be and what questions I want to answer after. Booty call it is!

I texted her my choice and that the door would be unlocked. I sat in the chair to wait. Patiently.

[anjuschiffer]

#115 for Lukanette pwetty pwease? :3 (for the drabble ask ^_^)

Hey @lady-charinette! Sorry for the long wait! But here it is! I swear this was suppose to be a drabble, but oh well 

This was a tricky prompt, and by that, it was difficult to have this line in the story in a way I had envisioned my particular take on the prompt. Sure, I could’ve made them play a game, but that didn’t completely fit this line. (and honestly that would’ve turned into a comfort genre as well...) I wanted to akumatize Luka, but that route was a tad too world building for my liking :’D

So I went to my usual and did a comfort-Lukanette, so I hope you don’t mind this approach :)

Also, there’s a second part to this (currently in the works!) so look out for that!

Anyways, hope you enjoy this ^^

-----

Context: Marinette knows Luka is Viperion and vice versa. They found out about each other’s identities unwillingly, but instead of Marinette (she’s the Guardian) choosing to strip Luka of both his powers and memories, she decided to see how things would go before she had to make that decision. 

Luka sometimes lingers on Marinette’s rooftop after detransforming, thankfully not clashing with Chat yet. Or sometimes Luka just drops by the roof when he wants to check on Mari :) And yes, Mari has scolded him from parkouring and scaling buildings.

-----

115. “I let you win.” 

-----

(To Cheer Up Your [Not Yet] Girlfriend)

“Just remember Marinette, I let you win.” 

Marinette sighed as Lila’s words rang through her head, only growing louder with each passing second and it being nighttime didn’t help a single bit.

Lila got akumatized again, Marinette having to save her enemy once more from her own lies. From her own denials...

Once again, Lila was threatening Marinette with taking everything away from her. Her friends were starting to distance themselves from her, never having time to hang out with her, with each other. When she decided to confront the girl, that’s when the talk turned into an argument and then a one-sided monologue. 

As Marinette showed Lila the evidence she had finally managed to pile up against the girl, Lila allowed herself to get akumatized, reaching for the neon purple butterfly.

Marinette remembered the sheer fear she felt when she saw Lila morph into Verita Serpent, using serpents to hide the truth all across Paris, targeting Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Thankfully, Lila never found her -seeing as Marinette was Ladybug- and took her down with the help of Chat, Viperion and Rena.

But even when she defeated Lila, Marinette couldn’t help but let her words sink in, because they were true.

She let them win. She told Ladybug where the akuma was hidden. Ladybug had lost that round.

Marinette hated to admit it, but… Lila was starting to get to her. The akuma monologues were starting to get to her. Her duties as Ladybug were starting to make her muscles ache, to scream in agony at the expectations everyone had for her… they were starting to beg for a break...

It was getting difficult to keep these thoughts to herself, to try and keep her emotions in check. Therapy didn’t help, seeing as Marinette couldn’t peep a word to her therapist about her being Ladybug. Hell, she couldn’t talk about the threats Lila told her seeing as it would expose herself to-

Marinette whipped her head towards her skylight door, hearing a faint melody coming from outside.

“That better not be Chat again.” Marinette muttered to herself, really hoping it wasn’t Chat.

Yes, she enjoyed his company, but tonight wasn’t a good night to be here. 

Aside from Lila’s akumatization -for the third time that year- Marinette has commissions to start that night, some in which were backtracked, as well as upcoming fundraisers she had to plan for that year’s school trip. 

In short, she had events to plan and clothing to start, so Chat dropping by today was off the list. 

Getting up with a huff, Marinette traversed through her room, opening the skylight door with no caution.

“Chat, it’s literally one in the morning and I really need to-”

“Sorry to interrupt you Melody, but do I really look like Chat to you?” Marinette blinked before a blush blossomed onto her face. 

“Luka! Oh hey! Water- what are you here doing? Doing here?” Marinette managed to squeak out, watching Luka smile at her blunder, still strumming a melody. 

“Decided to walk by and see how you’re doing.” Luka said, continuing to strum to an unknown beat, Marinette quickly letting her shoulders relax, only then realizing she had them squared. “Seems like you’ve seen better days.”

“I have.” Marinette admitted, rubbing her arm. “Today just isn’t one of those days.”

Luka frowned at that, slowing the pace. He noticed her trying to warm herself up by rubbing her hands together in attempts to retain heat. While it was late summer, fall breezes started to let themselves be known. Last time they talked, Luka remembered Mari mentioning starting to be severely affected by the change in temperatures.

“Are you cold?” 

“Kinda.”

“Wanna go back where it’s warmer?” Luka asked, motioning to her bedroom. 

Mari nodded, going down the hatch tilting her head when she saw Luka stay outside. 

“Aren’t you going to come in?”

“Only if you let me in.” Mari didn’t know why, but she flushed at those words, motioning Luka to come in, giggling when he gave her his guitar first before carefully making his way in. 

“Pink.” Was the first word that came out of Luka. “Very pink.”

“Sorry! I just-“

“Don’t apologize for liking the color Mari. After all,” a strum. “It’s very Marinette.” At those words, Mari smiled. 

Closing the hatch and letting Luka make himself feel at home in her, Mari grabbed her sketchpad and took a seat next to him in her chaise longue, looking over the sketches she had to start work on. 

“Is your mom aware that you’re here?” Mari decided to ask, adding a few more notes onto her sketch before getting up to grab some patterns to start her first commission: a party gown

“She could care less. As long as I get back home in one piece, she’s fine with me roaming around.”

“Wish I had the liberty to do that.”

“Can’t you?” At that, Marinette was about to answer, but promptly shut her mouth. 

While she did have the same freedom to do as she pleased, she couldn’t quite do it to her heart's content, Ladybug took much of her time and now, so was MDC. It’s only been a few months, but Marinette’s emails have been swarming with commissions, Marinette having to send emails with a heavy heart, telling potential investors that she couldn’t tend to their request. There were even times where she accidently used the wrong email to send the bad news, Marinette rushing to fix her own mistakes. Marinette no longer had time to worry about herself. MDC and Ladybug were top priority right now.

At the thought, she chuckled. Where was Marinette right now? What freedom was left for Marinette?

“Mari… Mari… look at me.” Luka’s voice softly registered into her mind, Marinette wondering what was going on. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yea. Sorry about that.” Mari said, turning around to see Luka right behind her, his guitar abandoned where he was seated. “What were you asking?”

“Do you want the first question or the more recent one?”

“Umm… recent one?”

“Can you hear me?” At this, Mari chuckled, giving Luka a smile.

“Loud and clear.” Mari couldn’t help but notice the wavering smile on Luka’s face before it turned into a straight line.

“It was the akuma from this afternoon, wasn’t it?”

“What? No. I-”

“Mari.” Luka approached her, grabbing her hands and stroked them. “It was the akuma, right? Or rather, the person behind the akuma…”

“It wasn’t Lila.”

“So that’s her name.” Luka growled, causing Marinette to panic.

“Luka, please it wasn’t-”

“It was Lila and I know it was.” Luka stated, biting his cheek. “Whenever she’s mentioned or even implied, your melody starts to waver, its waves quivering in anger and irritation, becoming a mess if we continue to mention her as we talk. It gets so chaotic to the point that your melody loses its tranquility… its happiness.” Luka looked at her with piercing aqua eyes. “And this isn’t the first time this has happened before.”

Mari bit her lip, slipping her hands away from Luka’s. He was right. This wasn’t the first time Marinette had trouble with Lila. And he knew that.

“It’s not Lila, I already told you that.”

“We both know you're lying to yourself.” Mari scoffed.

“Lying? To myself? Luka.” Marinette looked at him with round eyes, her bluebell eyes seeming to look sapphire. “I can deal with Lila, I don’t need to lie to myself that she isn’t the problem.” 

“Then what’s bothering you?” Luka asked, cupping her face with one hand, taking her hand with his other. “You’re in disarray and you know you can’t hide that from me.” As much as Marinette wanted Luka to buy her lie, he wasn’t going to, but playing along will help to get an answer to his question… as much as he hated going along with a bad tune.

Marinette nuzzled against the gesture, placing her hand over his.

“It’s me.” Marinette whispered, Luka barely catching it. “I’m the cause of all my frustrations.”

“If it’s about Ladybug, you know you can always-”

“It’s more than just Ladybug, Viper.” Mari said, putting down his hand and walking to her full length mirror, seeing Ladybug, MDC and herself in the reflection, their faces on different portions of the mirror’s cracks. “It’s MDC as well.”

Luka frowned, standing behind Mari, peering over her shoulder to see only her reflection staring back at them. When did Mari look so pale, so tired?

“When was the last time you took a break?” When Marinette simply hummed for about five minutes, Luka walked in front of her, cupping her face. “Seems like too long.”

He guided Mari back to the chaise longue, making her sit. “Do you mind if I rummage through your things?”

“Go ahead.” Mari said, watching as he made a beeline for her things, picking up a Jagged Stone hoodie from her closet and a pair of sweats. 

“Didn’t know you had this hoodie. Have the same one back at home.” A giggle filled the room. 

“Silly! We went to the same concert!” Mari reminded him, smiling at the memory. 

Luka had mentioned having a spare ticket to Jagged’s concert and offered Juleka to come, only for his sister to turn him down and for him to ask Mari out instead. 

The two had a blast, that day learning that Mari had collaborated before with Jagged, resulting in the trio to have a nice chat over waffles. 

Before they went home, the duo had received merch that was in the making, the two happy to receive free merch from their favorite singer. 

“True, but we were the only ones to get these, remember?” Luka places the clothing into her hands, going to a corner and stared at the wall. “Put them on. It’s easier to relax in comfortable clothing after all.” 

“Don’t peek!” Mari said, throwing a fabric sheet over him as she quickly changed into the hoodie and sweats. She took off the fabric draping Luka, giggling when she saw him still staring at the wall. Or rather, sitting in the corner with his eyes closed. “You can look now.”

Luka swerved in his spot, cracking one eye open and then the next, smiling at her change of outfit. 

“Doesn’t it feel better?”

“Much better.” 

“Now, let’s get into bed!” Luka said with a chirp, Mari frantically made her way to her desk, almost tripping in the process. 

“What? No! I can't!” Mari grabbed her sketchpad and a roll of muslin. “I need to start-“

“Mari.” Luka said softly, grabbing the roll away from her and placed her sketchpad onto her desk. “You need to sleep.”

“No, I need to start-“

“You need to sleep Mari.” Luka repeated, taking her ribbons out, her hair cascading down her shoulders. “You hadn’t properly slept this past week.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Tikki and Sass told me.” Luka said with a smirk, Mari turning her head in the direction of where she had hidden the Miracle Box. 

Kwami! She had forgotten about them and their loyalty towards Luka. 

“That’s cheating.” Mari said with a pout, crossing her arms. Luka chuckled. 

“Come on, I promise to wake you up by 7.”

“You plan on returning?” Mari asked, letting herself be guided to her bed, making sure to step properly as she climbed the stairs. 

“Of course. Your parents make the best brioche.” At that, Mari began to giggle, not realizing she threw herself onto her bed. 

“Of course you’re coming for the food! Should’ve known that by now!”

“But you can’t deny there’s nothing better than your parent’s baking.”

“”You’re right.” Marinette said with a smile, sitting up next to Luka. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Luka said, opening his arms for a hug. Mari giggled before throwing herself into his embrace, absorbing the warmth. 

She felt herself relax against his chest, his heartbeat a familiar melody to her. Also, did he always smell this good?

“Mari, I need to go.” Luka said softly, trying to get up to leave. But when Mari didn’t bother to move, he began to worry. “Mari, you alright?”

“Shtay.” Mari slurred, shifting in his arms. “Et’s go ta sleep.” 

Luka smiled at Mari’s dazed face, telling her he would stay, tucking her into bed and watched as she drifted to sleep, her midnight hair framing her face.

He stroked her cheek, watching Mari further relax, sinking into the pile of pillows surrounding her.

“Sleep well, mon chou.”

Luka slipped out the room, closing the hatch behind him. With the click of the window, Luka began his walk home, a smile on his face the entire way, humming a new melody he obtained that night.

Maybe one day he’d finally have the courage to sing her the melody that’s been stuck in his head since the first day they had met.

One day...

------

Note: I based Luka’s method to something a dear friend of mine used to do for me when I was in my deepest moments. He’d make it his mission to try and make me smile at least once everyday. And honestly… I’m very thankful for his efforts… 

[s-horne]

8. National Receptionists’ Day

Steve was happy for Pepper. He really was. She deserved to have six months off – hell, she deserved the rest of her life off, though they all knew that was never going to happen. Steve couldn’t wait to go and visit her, to spoil her little baby until his heart was content.

The only problem with Pepper having those such well-deserved six months off was that Tony needed to hire new staff. Obviously, one person couldn’t be expected to do everything that Pepper had done, so he had employed a few different people to cover different aspects of the role.

One of those new hires was Christine Everhart.

Christine was lovely. Really, she was. Steve could admit that; couldn’t deny it, actually. She was also beautiful, clever, witty, unafraid to snap back and stand up to Tony, and obscenely good at her job. All in all, she was pretty perfect and Steve hated her. He hated that he hated her, but he did nonetheless.

Whilst he had no proof that she wanted to fuck his husband, most people did and Steve felt his hackles rise whenever he was around her. Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if she tried something with Tony, though he also didn’t want to find out if she had. He also had no proof that Christine was purposefully not putting him through when Steve rang Tony’s office, but it just seemed a bit suspect. It wasn’t often that Steve rang there and not Tony’s direct cell, —it wasn’t often that Tony was even in his office for Steve to ring that number — but all of a sudden Steve seemed to be leaving more and more messages with Miss. Everhart.

And he didn’t like that.

“Good afternoon, Tony Stark’s office. Please hold.”

Steve tapped his foot against the perfectly tiled floor and tried to school his glare into something a little less murderous. Even without a mirror, he knew what his expression would look like. It wasn’t really his fault, though. Christine’s voice was rather grating after listening to it for thirty fucking minutes and she only seemed to be saying one sentence as she expertly juggled the ridiculously busy phone-lines.

Had she even buzzed Tony through the intercom and told him that Steve was there? Steve hadn’t seen her do it and he’d been staring at her quite intently as she answered emails one handedly, manicured nails tapping away at her keyboard. Sure, Tony was busy and pretty scatter-brained, especially on his office days, but he never kept Steve waiting if he could help it. The chances that Miss. Everhart was keeping him waiting on purpose seemed to be growing larger.

“Good afternoon, Tony Stark’s office. Please hold.”

And yes, Steve was aware that he sounded like a spoiled child, but that’s just the way he felt about this threatening woman. He finally had Tony all to himself, had the shining ring to prove it as well, and he was damned if some college-grad with a bright smile and sharp wit was going to take him away.

//

Steve stacked the plates from the dining table and placed them down next to Tony at the sink. They’d had a lovely meal cooked by Steve — not as a way to prove that he was the best choice, thank you very much. He wasn’t that insecure. Well...

“Thanks, babe,” Tony said distractedly. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! So this afternoon, Chrissie said–”

Steve nearly choked at Tony’s words, completely ignoring whatever came next. Chrissie? His brain seemed stuck on that. Of course, Tony and Christine shared the same workspace and were together for huge portions of the day, but Chrissie? Really?

It had taken Tony months to move to nicknaming Steve after they’d met – something that Steve wasn’t bitter about, per say. (It was just something that kept him up at night.) What was so special about Chrissie that she got a nickname so suddenly? They hadn’t known each other that long, after all. Why did she suddenly get such a personal nickname?

Steve shook off the negative thoughts and tried to stop himself from being so jealous. He had Tony, after all. He turned his attention back to Tony, focusing on what his husband was saying and how whatever it was made his face light up and his eyes dance.

“Why do you even need a secretary?” Whoops, Steve guessed those thoughts weren’t as shaken off as he wanted as he talked over Tony.

Steve laughed when Tony’s hand slipped off the mug he was washing and it fell into the sink, sending a splash of soapy water up and over Tony’s shirt.

“She’s a receptionist,” Tony said, scowling down at his wet chest. “Not a secretary. Too many connotations with that word. Chrissie says it sounds far too much like we’re having an affair, for some reason. She’d rather be called a receptionist.”

“Ugh, whatever. I still don’t get it. You’re not even in the office that much,” Steve continued, leaning against the counter. “Could you not just have an automated diverter? Surely you can invent one of those?”

Tony squinted, reaching up to wipe water off his cheek with his forearm. “Personal touch, Steven. How could you even suggest that I got rid of the that last human touch?”

“Ah,” Steve murmured, sliding closer and kissing a droplet of water that Tony missed. “Of course. How stupid of me.”

//

“Seriously, though,” Steve said, blinking up at Tony with a soft pout. He wasn’t in the mood to let this go, not with Christine’s perfectly curled hair and kohl-rimmed eyes fresh in his mind. “You really don’t need her, surely?”

“Pepper spoilt you,” Tony laughed, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. “She has a soft spot for you and always let your calls through. Chrissie was told to make me do my work – she’s only doing her job.”

Steve huffed, but he guessed he couldn’t really argue with that. He was struck with a sudden wave of genius and he reached up to grab at Tony’s wrist, shifting his head in Tony’s lap.

“Why don’t I become your secretary?”

Tony’s eyebrows raised. “My secretary? You want to be my hot secretary?”

“Receptionist,” Steve corrected with a hot blush. He remembered Tony’s definitions and comments about connotations and willed his mind not to let himself conjure up an image of him being Tony’s secretary.

Well, just thinking about Christine in his stead made that picture fly right away. With a dark glare, he continued. “I could be your receptionist.”

“I would never get anything done,” Tony said, a fond smile on his lips and his fingers curling to cup Steve’s neck. “I’d never leave the office to get to the lab and even then, in my office, I would be too busy staring at you to do my work.”

“I’d be such a good receptionist,” Steve said to himself, releasing Tony’s wrist and letting the feeling of Tony’s fingers in his hair sending him off to sleep. “Better than Miss. Fucking. Everhart.”

//

Steve straightened the pad on the desk, reaching out to line up the pen pot with the new, neater edge. It wasn’t that Christine hadn’t kept the place neat, but it wasn’t quite to Steve’s liking. He’d tidied as much as he knew he could get away with, trying hard to ignore what he wasn’t allowed to touch. There were quite a lot of papers stacked in the letter trays on the edge of the desk, though Steve knew better than to go through those. He fiddled with organising the post-it notes by colour instead.

When Christine had called in sick early that morning, Tony had been gutted. It was a day that Tony was meant to have be in the labs anyway, but then he’d gotten a sudden call about paperwork that had sent him to the office. He’d already been worried about being late, so Steve had quickly volunteered to sort out a temporary worker with an agency, if only to clear away the worry lines from Tony’s brow. Tony had rushed out of the door shouting something about calling Pepper as she’ll know what to so, Steve, she always knows!

Well, Steve hadn’t needed Pepper and he wasn’t about to let some other girl in a short skirt or a man in a far-too tight shirt fall over themselves to lean over Tony’s desk and wiggle their arses.

Not when Steve could do it just as easily.

“Steve! What–”

Steve looked up from his computer to see Tony standing in the doorway to his office, frozen on the spot with his mouth hanging open.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Steve said in a clear, crisp voice. “I’m afraid that Miss. Everhart needed to take a personal day today, but I have been sent as her placement. Please let me know if you have any special requests for me to adhere to.”

Steve didn’t miss the way that Tony’s pupils dilated as he focused on the tight shirt that Steve had chosen, or the flick of Tony’s tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of Steve’s neatly-fastened tie.

“You, you’re my receptionist?” Tony stuttered out.

“Told you I – oh. Please excuse me, Mr. Stark.” Steve held up one finger when the desk phone started to ring. “Good morning, Mr. Stark’s office.”

Feeling Tony’s eyes on him, Steve tried to keep the smirk off his face as he focused on the phone call. Though he had only been joking about taking over from Christine full-time, Steve had worked a summer as a receptionist for a large company when a teenager. He knew his way around a reception desk and his phone voice was spot on.

“Of course, Sir. Mr. Stark is indisposed at the moment, but I – oh, no, of course. Absolutely not, Sir.”

Steve found it harder to keep the grin away when he noticed Tony’s eyes darkening even more with every word that he spoke. Deciding to test his theory, Steve licked his lips and met Tony’s gaze.

“Of course, Sir,” he said into the phone, his heart thudding when Tony’s cheeks flushed. Well, that proved that theory. Time to use that to his advantage. “I will pass the message on as soon as – yes. Thank you, Sir, you too.”

Steve placed the receiver down without breaking his eye contact with Tony.

“That was Mr. Phillips from the board.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit,” Tony said, voice deliciously low. “I told you I’d never be able to concentrate if you were here.”

“And I told you I’d make an excellent receptionist,” Steve countered, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach.

“Please go home.”

Steve let his mouth fall open in faux-offence. “Mr. Stark, I couldn’t possibly. I was sent here to help you. To be completely at your disposal.”

Tony swallowed thickly and Steve felt no guilt in letting his eyes sweep up and down the man’s body, grateful that the desk was letting him hide just how turned on he was already.

“I’m here to help you, Sir.”

//

The desk pad definitely wasn’t straight now, some part of Steve’s mind pointed out. In fact, the whole desk had been pushed out of its usual alignment with the carpet and everything on its surface had been knocked over. Pens were steadily rolling off onto the floor and the letter tray had long since fallen.

That was what tended to happen when someone was sprawled out on top of it.

“Fuck, Steve,” Tony said, words hoarse and sounding almost punched out of him as he was knocked back and forth. “There, oh, fuck.”

Tony threw his head back as his spine arched and Steve couldn’t resist the urge to trace Tony’s neck with his tongue.

“Like that, Mr. Stark?” Steve murmured as he kissed his way to Tony’s jaw. He poked his tongue out again and used the very tip to follow the curve of Tony’s ear.

“Yes.” Tony’s hands grabbled for purchase unsuccessfully as Steve snapped his hips forward again. “Right there, Steve. Right – oh, God.”

“Told you I could meet your needs,” Steve said lowly. One hand slid round to splay over Tony’s chest where his shirt was hanging open, fingers catching the edge of his nipples. “I’ve got you, Sir.”

As soon as that title left Steve’s lips, Tony let out a loud moan and his hole tightened around Steve’s cock. Steve’s eyes fell closed as he desperately tried to hold onto the last ounce of self-control that he had. He was doing this to prove a point, after all, and what point would be making if he came before Tony? No self-respecting receptionist put their own needs before that of their employer, after all.

“Fuck, yes. Oh, Sir. You feel so good. Am I helping you? Am I being the best receptionist you could need?”

Tony groaned again as he reached an arm back blindly, his fingers grabbing the air until he hit Steve.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, nails digging into Steve’s side. His feet slid further apart when Steve pushed forward again and his head fell onto the desk.

At the new angle, Steve let out a groan of his own. His hand danced across Tony’s chest to feel the welts left by the desk, deep and already warm. They would be so red by the morning, he thought to himself, such a perfect reminder of what they had done. Steve snapped his hips forward again at an almost relentless pace, his rhythm starting to slip.

“God, I’m so deep, Sir. Can you feel me? Can you feel how deep I am now?”

Sweat was starting to drip down Steve’s neck, but if anything it just made him push harder. With every thrust, his suit trousers caught Tony’s and rubbed dirtily against his thighs. They hadn’t bothered to undress, with Steve only ripping open Tony’s shirt and pushing his trousers down just enough for access. It was deliciously taboo and the drag of the thick material was adding a layer of lust that Steve hadn’t experienced before. Tony seemed to agree as he made no effort to remove his clothing, eagerly pushing back to Steve’s thrusts and moaning wantonly.

The way that the desk was creaking would have been alarming to Steve had he not been so focused on Tony’s breathy pants.

“See, my darling?” he said, draping himself over Tony’s back so that he could whisper in his husband’s ear, “this is why you should have me sitting behind this desk every day.”

“Never,” Tony managed to croak out, resting his forehead against the dark grain as his fingers flexed and his legs shook. “I’d never get anything done.”

“Just think about it,” Steve continued, punctuating his words with a roll of his hips. “Every time you come out to greet a visitor or come over to talk to Chrissie, you’ll be reminded of the time I bent you over this desk and fucked you so hard you couldn’t give a shit who was to walk in and see you like this.”

It wasn’t true. Steve had already arranged with the doorman not to let anyone up as Steve wasn’t technically allowed to be working in such an office and greeting associates, and Tony wasn’t meant to be there anyway. It didn’t matter how true it was as the words had the desired effect: Tony let out an almost inhumane noise and jerked his hips back as Steve carried on dripping filth into his ears.

“Yes, Sir. You want them to see, don’t you? You want them all to see what a fucking–,” Steve cut himself off when the phone suddenly rang. He jumped almost a foot in the air — causing a delicious yelp to leave Tony’s mouth — as his thrusts paused.

When Steve didn’t start moving again, Tony turned to look over his shoulder, his mouth open.

“You’re not,” he said, disbelief bleeding into his desperate tone. “You can’t be thinking about answering that.”

“Of course I am,” Steve said, lifting a hand to trace the swell of Tony’s bright red lips with his thumb. He took a moment to admire his husband’s beautiful face, the flush of his cheeks and the tears in his eyes, before he stretched his hand to hover over the receiver. “What kind of secretary would I be to let your calls go to voicemail?”

“Receptionist,” Tony panted out. “But you can’t! You’re–”

Steve rolled his eyes, the fingers of his other hand trailing up to press ever so lightly against Tony’s throat. “Personal touch, Sir. Where would we be without it?” Just before he picked up the phone, he craned his neck and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Tony’s throat. “And I think we’re way past receptionist now, sweetheart.”

“Steve, you can’t. You can’t expect me to—”

“Yes,” Steve said, tapping his fingers against Tony’s pulse point. “I do. I do expect you to stay quiet.”

With that, he curled his fingers around the handset and lifted the phone to his ear. “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark’s office.”

Tony whimpered and dropped his head forward, cheek hitting the cold wood.

“Stay quiet,” Steve hissed, pressing another kiss to Tony’s cheek before he straightened up and brought forward his professional facade. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wilkes. Long time, no speak… oh, of course, Sir. Oh no, I’m only stepping in for the day.”

Steve laughed at the response, but his real focus was much more on the way that Tony was whining into the surface of the desk, his teeth biting down on his fingers in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. Though Steve was impressed at the effort Tony was putting into staying silent, he wasn’t sure he liked it. Time to up the ante, he thought silently.

“Absolutely. No, I’ll be sure to tell him.” Steve curled his fingers around Tony’s throat as he spoke into the phone and squeezed ever so lightly. He quirked a grin at the sound that left Tony’s mouth and pushed his hips forward. “Oh, of course. No, no, I’ll be sure to — really?”

In an almost unconscious move, Steve stopped his movements to focus on the conversation coming through the phone. Tony let out a loud whimper at the pause and Steve’s smile fell. He threw his body forward again, pressing Tony’s chest into the desk as he blanketed him.

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” Steve hissed into the shell of Tony’s ear, making sure that his mouth was far away from the phone as the caller prattled on. “Here I am trying to help you out and what are you giving me in return?”

“I’m sorry,” Tony said, words a huff of air into the desk-top and muffled around the digits in his mouth. “Fuck, Steve. Please. Please, I’m sorry.”

All of a sudden, Steve’s attention was snapped back to the phonecall and he straightened up again, a wide grin gracing his face at Tony’s muffled sob. “That’s right — no, abso- oh? Of course. Will do, Mr. Wilkes, thank you. And to you, Sir.”

Steve grinned at the red flush on Tony’s cheek and the way that his finger was almost white with the strength of his bite. No harm in playing it up just that little bit more, he thought as he circled his hips, knowing his cock would be pressed right against Tony’s sweet spot.

“Thank you, Sir. Yes, no doubt, Sir. Of — pardon? Oh, without a doubt. Thanks again. Goodbye,” Steve leant down and caught Tony’s ear lobe between his teeth for the shortest second before he finished his phone call with a final, “Sir.”

Tony’s orgasm took Steve by surprise and the sudden tightness of his hole threw Steve over the edge without warning. Praying to God that Mr. Wilkes had disconnected the line, Steve let out a long and drawn out groan. It was vaguely recognisable as a garbled version of Tony’s name and Steve grabbed at Tony’s hips to draw them even closer together as he rode his high, hips jerking as he shot ropes of come deep inside of his husband’s body.

It was a long time before either of them were able to gather enough brain strength to speak again. Though not quite up to moving, Steve mouthed at Tony’s neck, darkening an already-beautiful bruise there.

“Fuck me,” Tony finally croaked out, his voice wonderfully hoarse from his cries.

“Hm, think I just did, doll.” Steve held Tony carefully as he pulled his softened cock out, wincing in sympathy at Tony’s hiss. He pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek in compensation, falling back into the desk chair and ever so carefully pulling Tony down into his lap.

“That was amazing,” Tony said, lolling bonelessly against Steve’s chest. “Best receptionist ever.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, his hands automatically finding Tony’s. “Glad you think so,” he murmured into sweaty hair. “Because Christine is off for a week and I never did ring a temp agency.”

[girls-scenarios]

I’ve Got Intentions

Idol: Tzuyu (Twice)

Prompt: CEO tzuyu x secretary fem reader ? Where tzuyu is arrogant to the reader until one day mina flirts with her and tzuyu starts to flirt more and try to get the reader attention ? They get together at the end.. Bit of smut at the end is possible ;)

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Honestly this isn't usually my type of thing to write, so I'm really sorry this took so long. Also I didn’t really know how to tag this since Tumblr is weird about stuff now so I hope the read more works to save anyone not wanting to read smut- But hopefully it came out well?

Warnings: Some cursing, Tzuyu is bad at feelings, mentions of smut, a little actual smut at the end but not in too much detail.

Meetings, conferences, phone calls, brand deals, and piles of business cards that littered a drawer in her exceptionally large desk. That was what Tzuyu’s work life consisted of. As the CEO of a successful company, she was almost always busy with something, having to continue proving that, even as young as she was, she knew what she was doing.

It all paid off though. Her closet was full of designer clothes and accessories, she owned a giant penthouse with a huge, comfortable bed, she ate only the best foods and owned only the newest technologies. She always flew first class and had a whole list of contacts to call if she needed anything done for her.

Despite all the work, she was on top of the world. And she loved it.

“Good morning, Tzuyu,” Mina said, greeting her as she walked into the office. The head accountant had a stack of papers in one hand and a coffee in the other, and her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and Tzuyu smiled when she saw her.

“Good morning, Mina. Any news?” The two girls had known each other since high school, and it was always nice to have her around. She was the only person who talked to Tzuyu as a friend rather than a boss or a business partner, and the younger girl appreciated that.

“Stocks have gone up and we’re still on a roll. It looks like we’re going to have yet another incredible year.” The smile on Tzuyu’s face widened and she gave Mina a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“That’s what I love to hear. Thanks for your hard work.” Footsteps sounded behind her, and she raised her eyebrows, turning around to see you approaching her, looking as timid as always.

“Um, good morning-.”

“Did you get together the papers for my meeting this afternoon like I asked yesterday? Also, I'm going to be needing some coffee.” You gave her a little smile and nodded quickly.

“Yes ma’am, right away.” As you turned on your heel and fast walked away, Mina let out a ‘tsk’.

“You should be nicer to her, you know. She’s still new and nervous around you.”

“That’s what annoys me about her. She’s always so timid, if she’s going to make it in the business world she needs to toughen up.”

“Maybe if you were nicer to her, she’d be able to be more comfortable.” Tzuyu rolled her eyes and turned to head to her private office.

“Don’t get soft on me, Mina,” she called as she walked away, even though she knew that it wouldn't do any good. Mina was a softy, and she’d always been a sucker for a pretty face. Tzuyu, on the other hand, didn’t really care for being too friendly. She wasn’t in business to make friends or meet lovers, she was in it to make money. And she didn’t really care what her employees thought of her.

After she’d unpacked everything at her desk and looked over her schedule for the day, there was a quiet knock at the door, and she looked up to see you step in with coffee in one hand and a file in the other.

“I have the papers for your meeting today,” you said, voice still quiet and timid as you placed the file on her desk. “And here is your coffee, just the way you like it.” Eyebrows raised, she took it from you and glanced down at the markings on the side. At least you’d finally memorized her order.

“I’ll have another one of these at noon before the meeting. And be sure to bring three regular coffees for my guests.” She gave you a look over the cup, “get that?”

“Yes ma'am, of course.”

“Good. I’m also going to need you to return these calls because I don’t want to.” Your eyes widened as she handed over a notepad full of numbers. “All their voicemails are still saved so figure out what they want and take care of it.”

“Um, what if it’s important?” You took the notepad, looking flustered, and she resisted the urge to grin. You looked cute flustered and scared like that.

“I already called back everyone important, these people really don’t matter. If it’s something we can do, get it done for them. For everyone else, make up something.” You looked like you wanted to argue with her, but you just nodded your head instead. “Glad you understand. Now please close the door on your way out, I have work to do.”

It wasn’t until you were out the door that she allowed herself to smirk as she looked back at her laptop screen. You were her little plaything, the perfect way to get her stress out and start her morning. Now, she could get to work.

-

It wasn’t until noon rolled around and she stepped out of her office to head to the meeting space that she noticed it. Mina wasn’t at her desk. In fact, she was all the way across the room near the entrance, leaning over the reception desk and talking to you with that smile she always wore when she was talking to a pretty girl. Had it just been that, Tzuyu probably wouldn’t have been peeved. She would have rolled her eyes and walked away and made a mental note to give both of you more work.

The issue was that you were smiling back at her with a slight blush on your cheeks, and you looked so incredibly cute that it made her stomach twist with anger. Mina was flirting with you, and she hated it.

Gritting her teeth, she resolved to speak to Mina later and turned on her heel, trying to ignore the feelings bubbling up in her chest because she was a CEO, not a teenager, and she had work to do.

Still, when you walked into the meeting space with the tray of coffees that she’d asked you for earlier and the flush still on your cheeks, she couldn’t stop herself.

“This one is for you,” you said softly, setting her coffee down in front of her before moving away to set the tray down in the middle. She watched you as she picked up her coffee, scrutinizing the way you moved. You seemed less timid than you had that morning, and that annoyed her.

“Perfect as always,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“Really?” Now that was an expression that she was more used to. You were her plaything, not Mina’s. She didn’t bother to hide her smile as she took a sip.

“Really. That shirt looks great on you as well. You should wear that style more often.” You looked down at your shirt, a tight button-up sleeveless blouse with a low collar, and she reveled in the flush that made its way back into your cheeks.

“O-oh, thank you!”

“When my guests get here, could you be a dear and send them in?” It was code for you to leave, but a much nicer code than she usually used. You nodded and clasped your hands together, slowly backing towards the door.

“Of course, I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Good. Thank you.” Again, you nodded, that slightly nervous nod you always gave her when you didn’t know what to say, before ducking out the door. She watched you go, her eyebrows raised in amusement, before letting out a little chuckle and looking back at her laptop. There was no way she was going to lose to Mina.

-

“What’s with (Y/N) lately?” Mina’s voice rang through Tzuyu’s office, and the younger girl sighed, wishing that she’d moved her friend’s desk further away from her own, just so she wouldn’t come in and pester her while she was trying to work.

“I don’t pay you to gossip.” With a huff, Mina shoved her shoulder.

“You know you’d get bored without me. Plus, you make everyone else do most of your work. I saw you playing solitaire in here yesterday.” Well, it was true. Most of Tzuyu’s work got handed off to other people. As the CEO, her job was mostly to talk to other bigwigs from potential partners and to be a face to the media. Still, she didn’t appreciate Mina’s tone.

“I can still fire you, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. But where else are you going to find someone who knows the finances for this company like I do?” With a sigh, Tzuyu looked away from her laptop (where she had been doing work, thank you) and at her best friend.

“Just gossip and get out, please.” The other girl rolled her eyes but took Tzuyu’s words as a signal to lean over her desk and repeat her earlier question.

“So, what’s up with (Y/N)?” At the mention of your name, Tzuyu glanced out her office door and towards where you stood at the copier.

“I’m not sure I get what you mean.”

“She’s been wearing exclusively one style of shirt recently. Even though it’s freezing outside today, she’s wearing a sleeveless shirt. And although I don’t mind it because she looks incredible, why did she suddenly decide to wear one type of shirt and one type of shirt only?” A grin played at the corners of Tzuyu’s lips and she looked back at her laptop. “Plus, she seems a lot happier to be here lately. Less like she thinks you’re going to serve her up for dinner one day.”

“Gross. Why would anyone get that thought about me?”

“Because you act like you don’t have emotions and hate people,” Mina pointed out, and Tzuyu couldn’t argue with that. “But your emotional constipation aside, did you say something to her? Is that why she’s been happier lately?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Tell me or I’ll send those embarrassing high school party photos in a group email to everyone in this office.”

“Fine! I’ll tell you, damn. No need to bring out the big guns.” Mina smirked, and wow, Tzuyu really hated her sometimes. How did people think she was innocent and sweet? She hung out with Nayeon too much. “I told her that the shirt she was wearing a few days ago looked good on her.” The older woman raised her eyebrows and let out a little gasp.

“Wow, Tzuyu! You can be nice to people?” Tzuyu sent her a glare, but it did nothing to deter her. “But that’s so cute, that she’s wearing the style you like just because you said something. I wonder if I told her that I like short skirts if she’d start wearing them.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops, is someone jealous?”

“No. She’s just my only entertainment in this boring place and it annoys me when you try to interrupt that.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re pretending you don’t work with your best friend to instead tell you that you are, in fact, jealous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are. What if I went out there and asked her on a date?” Just the thought made Tzuyu’s blood boil, and she glowered at her best friend.

“Don’t you dare.”

“See? Babe, that’s jealousy.”

“You seriously need to stop hanging out with Nayeon. Babe? Really?”

“Stop dancing around the fact that you have feelings, Tzuyu,” Mina said, ignoring the other girls’ words of protest as she stood up and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “Just don’t hurt her too bad, she seems like a nice girl.”

“The only person I’m going to hurt is you.”

“Oh, well, look at the time, I’ve got to go, have fun dealing with your feelings.” Had this still been high school, Tzuyu would have thrown a pen at the other girl. But this wasn’t high school, and she was a very important adult boss, so she just bit her lip, glared at her laptop once again, and made a mental note to get back at Mina later.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” A familiar voice made her jerk her head up. You stood at the door, stepping back quickly to let Mina by. “I didn’t realize you were coming out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mina said, giving you one of her sickeningly-sweet smiles that made Tzuyu really think about throwing that pen. “You’re too pretty for me to get upset at.” Immediately, your face flushed, and Tzuyu’s blood boiled.

“That’s enough, Mina,” she said, trying to keep her voice cool. The older girl just snickered as she stepped out the door, giving you a little wave. “(Y/N), did you have something for me?” You jumped a little before nodding and stepping forward to hold out a binder.

“Um, yes, I organized those files you asked me to do. Also, I’ve got all your meetings scheduled for next month, they’re on the physical calendar.” As she took the binder, she cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, and I added them to your virtual calendar as well, so you’ll get a reminder! And you can look them over.”

“Thank you,” she said, satisfied as she glanced through the binder before opening a drawer. “You learn fast.”

“Thank you?”

“It was a compliment.” She glanced back up at you, at your still-flushed cheeks and the small, awkward smile on your lips. And she thought of the smile on Mina’s face as she’d talked to you. “Did you bring a lunch today?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you processed her question before your eyes widened.

“I- No, actually, I didn’t have time to pack one so I’ll probably go down to the convenience store during lunch-.”

“Come to lunch with me.” Your mouth dropped open for a second before you snapped it closed.

“Really?”

“Yes. My lunch starts at noon today so yours does now too. Be ready.” Your eyes drifted from her face to the binder and then back again before you gave her a little nod.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course.” She watched you go, and her eyes took in your figure, highlighted by that shirt she liked on you so much. Again, a smirk made its way onto her face and she looked back down at the work email that had gone forgotten. Lunch was going to be interesting.

When noon rolled around, she was ready. Purse in hand, she nodded at some of her employees as she made her way over to the reception desk, where you sat, furiously typing away at your keyboard. She just watched you type for a few minutes, loving that little furrow in your eyebrows and the frustration in your brow, before clearing her throat.

“Ready for lunch?” You jumped, and she smiled.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I got so wrapped up in this,” you said, quickly moving to grab the mouse and save your work. “Let me just grab my jacket and purse-.”

“My treat, no need to get your purse.” There was a waver in your eyes, but you swallowed and grabbed your jacket, slipping into it as quickly as you could.

“Okay, in that case, I’m ready.”

You didn’t ask where she was taking you until she approached her car with you right behind her.

“It’s somewhere I like to go for lunch,” she said, unlocking the car and gesturing for you to climb into the passenger’s seat. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back in time.” You didn’t really seem to believe her, licking your lips nervously, but you climbed in anyways.

“This is a really nice car,” you said, looking around in awe as you buckled in and she started the car.

“My Tesla is a beauty, isn’t it?” Your lips were parted as you stared, and she grinned, loving the expression on your face as she pulled out of the parking garage. She usually didn’t care for showing off to people, or care for people in general, but somehow, showing off to you made her excited.

The restaurant wasn’t far away, and as soon as Tzuyu stepped in, the boy behind the host desk grabbed two menus.

“The normal place, please.”

“Of course. Right this way.” When she glanced back at you, you were biting your lip, eyes wide.

“Do you usually come here for lunch?” The place wasn’t as fancy as other places Tzuyu had eaten, but it was more upscale with its sleek modern interior and dim lighting.

“Not always. But it is my favorite lunch spot.” The boy placed the menus down on Tzuyu’s usual table, a spot more secluded, away from other customers, and she slid into one side of the booth. After a slight hesitation, you sat down across from her, giving the boy a small, shy smile as he told you the server would be with you shortly.

“It’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, opening the menu and scanning through the items. She already knew what she was probably going to have but looking at the specials wouldn’t hurt. “Order whatever you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” She gave you a look over her menu. “Take it as a thank you for all the hard work you do.”

“Okay,” you squeaked out, and she couldn’t help herself: she smiled. You were just too cute when you were flustered.

After all the food had been ordered and the menus were gone, you twisted your hands together and glanced up at her.

“Why did you invite me to lunch today?” She raised her eyebrows and took a dainty sip of her water before answering.

“Must I have a reason?”

“Well, I’ve just.... Never seen you go to lunch with anyone other than clients before. I thought maybe you wanted to talk about something work-related.” She shook her head and let herself smile again.

“I invited you with me because I wanted to. I thought it might be nice to talk to you a little more.” Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down at the table, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“O-oh.”

“Also, I wanted to tell you that you look nice today. I love the shirt.”

“Thank you!” You were flustered, biting your lip and smiling shyly, and she found herself wanting to lean across and kiss you until you were breathless. She wasn’t going to, though. Not yet, at least.

“So, tell me some things about yourself, (Y/N). I want to know.”

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, with the food coming out quickly and you telling her more about yourself in a soft voice, giving her the same smile you’d given Mina before, and she found herself wishing that the two of you wouldn’t have to go back to work. But unfortunately, time was ticking, and soon the lunch was over, and the two of you were back in the office.

“Thank you for the food,” you said as the two of you approached your desk, and she gave you a little smile.

“Anytime. Thank you for coming to lunch with me.” People were probably looking, and they might talk later, but Tzuyu didn’t really care as she walked back into her office, a satisfied smile on her face. She was definitely going to do this with you more often.

-

Soon, lunch became a habit for the two of you, and she found herself talking to you much more than usual. She was still forward and a little rude, because she enjoyed the flustered look you got on whenever she was intimidating, but she also liked the sweet smile you gave her when she said something nice. She also found herself thinking about your lips a little more than she should, but she tried not to read too much into it.

That is, until Mina brought it up.

“What are your intentions with (Y/N)?” The two girls were at Tzuyu’s house, sitting on the couch as the credits rolled for the last episode of the crime series they’d recently invested in. Her mind still stuck on the chilling contents of the last episode, she wrinkled her nose and shot her best friend with an incredulous look.

“What are you implying?” Rolling her eyes, Mina turned to face Tzuyu, reaching over to turn of the tv at the same time.

“Get your mind off crime and into the real world for a moment. You’d been spending an awful lot of time with your secretary lately.” It took a moment for Mina’s words to process, and Tzuyu slowly put down her bowl of popcorn, raising her eyebrows.

“Is that a bad thing? I’m just getting to know my employee better.”

“We both know that isn’t the only reason you’re getting closer to her. I’ve seen the way you check her out.” Okay, maybe Mina was right. Tzuyu had been checking you out a lot lately. And thinking a lot about kissing you. And teasing you a little more than usual. But that didn’t mean anything.

“She’s cute when she’s flustered.” The older girl didn’t look impressed.

“I hope you’re not just playing with her. I think she’s into you, and it would be pretty shitty of you to just lead her on. It would also be weird to work with someone you played with and then dumped so you should probably watch yourself.” Tzuyu stared at the now-blank tv, running Mina’s words over in her mind. She was playing with you, a little bit, she admitted it. But it wasn’t like she didn’t want you. And maybe there was a little nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she didn’t want to put words to because she hadn’t felt it since she was in high school and fell for the pretty cheerleader who turned out to be straight.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“I would hope not.” Mina stood up and stretched, letting out a yawn. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I told Chaeyoung I’d go over to her place tonight.”

“You always choose getting laid by your girlfriend over me,” Tzuyu said, letting out a dramatic sigh and leaning back into her couch. The older girl rolled her eyes and kicked her gently in the knee.

“That is such a lie. But maybe you could start getting laid by a girlfriend if you stopped closing everyone out of your life and decided to make (Y/N) yours. It’s something to think about.” Mina slipped into her jacket and stepped away, giving Tzuyu a little wave. “Goodnight, loser.”

“You’re so fired.”

“You can’t fire me, we’re off the clock. Try again next time babe.” Tzuyu watched as Mina waltzed away and rolled her eyes, reaching over to turn the tv back on in hopes of drowning out the feelings that had suddenly bombarded her brain. But she couldn’t focus on the crime unfolding on the screen, mind wandering back to your lips and you smile and the way your ears turned red when you were embarrassed. The thought of kissing you breathless and pinning you against the wall ran through her mind, and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach.

Maybe she did have some feelings for you.

-

As the weekend rolled to a close and Monday came once again, Tzuyu dealt with her newfound feelings like she always did: by throwing herself completely into her work. It worked out, because a new deal had just rolled through and she had plenty of things to do even after handing out work to her employees, so she ignored the little bell of reason in the back of her head telling her to deal with things now and let the work completely submerge her.

Minutes turned into hours, and the hours began to tick by until everyone had left the office and the sun had set, leaving Tzuyu typing away at her laptop under the shitty indoor lighting, ignoring the bright night view of the city out the window behind her.

As she pressed send on the last email of the day, her eyes moved down to the corner of her screen and she blinked, shocked by herself. When had it gotten so late?

Now that she’d broken the spell she’d put over herself that morning, the pain in her back began evident and she let out a little groan, stretching out her arms. She should probably go home, but there were still things to do.... With every new deal or new step up came a whole new load of stress, and she could feel it thrumming through her bloodstream as she stood up to stretch better.

That was when she noticed the light on outside her office. Narrowing her eyebrows, she glanced again at the time. Everyone should have gone home already. She knew for a fact that Mina had taken off, and she was usually the only one to stay with her and work. So, who?

She closed her laptop and stepped out. There you sat, at the reception desk, your lamp on, squinting at the screen with your hair down as your fingers flew across your keyboard. Tzuyu’s mouth dropped open. She’d never had a secretary stay late like this before, no matter how much work she’d asked for them to do.

It seemed like you hadn’t realized she was there, still focused on your work, so she cleared her throat as she walked up.

“(Y/N)? What are you still doing here?” You jumped, and Tzuyu was reminiscent of the first time she’d ever taken you out to lunch as you looked up at her with those big eyes of yours. Maybe it was because she was so stressed, or so tired, but seeing you with your hair down and lips slightly parted made her stomach twist.

“Ah, I had so much work to do and you were still working too, so I thought it would be best if I continued to work. It wouldn’t be fair to me if I left before you did and didn’t even finish the things you’d given me to do today.” You glanced down at the clock on your desk and rubbed the back of your neck. “I honestly didn’t even realize that it had gotten this late.” The air seemed to have gotten thicker somehow, as the work that had been on Tzuyu’s brain suddenly vanished and all she could think of was you. Yeah, she had feelings. Lots of them.

“That’s. Really admirable, actually. You could have gone home.” You bit your lip, and Tzuyu stared for a moment too long.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone.” She swallowed. Glanced from your shirt (the one she loved on you) to your lips and then up to your eyes. And there was something in them that made a voice in her head say, “go for it”.

“(Y/N), you’re really something else.” Your cheeks bloomed pink as you clicked save on the document you were working on.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing, I think.” You tilted your head, and god, you were so cute and so sexy at the same time, and she just couldn’t take it anymore. “It made me fall for you.” Your entire face flushed red, up to the tips of your ears, and your eyes widened, hands stalling from where they’d been fidgeting with a pen.

“Really?” Your voice was so soft, she wouldn’t have heard it had she not been listening.

“Really. You’ve been driving me crazy, (Y/N).” She watched you swallow and licked her lips. “And I really just want to kiss you. Is that okay.” You stalled for a moment, glancing around.

“Is that okay? To do... here?” Maybe you weren’t as precious and innocent as Mina had thought. A smile spread across Tzuyu’s lips.

“I turned off the camera in my office.” Again, you paused for a moment, before you turned off your computer and stood up, flustered but determined. “Is that okay with you?”

“It’s okay with me.” Her heart thudded hard in her chest as she led you inside, closing the door behind her.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” she said, and you gave her a little smile.

“I want you to kiss me.”

That was all she needed to hear. Her hands found their way onto your hips and she pulled you closer, eyes fluttering closed as her lips met yours. You tasted like coffee as she kissed you like her life depended on it, passionate as she pressed her body against yours and backed you up until your legs hit her desk and she pulled away, letting you sit down on it as you caught your breath. You looked incredible, all disheveled and breathing hard atop her desk, and something deep inside her wanted more.

“Just tell me to stop if I do something you don’t want,” she said, and waited only long enough for you to gasp out “okay” before she kissed you again and brought her hands up from your hips to slip underneath your shirt. You let out a little gasp into her mouth and she loved it, wanted to hear more of it, so she let her hands trail slowly upwards until her fingertips touched the wire of your bra and your hands twisted into her shirt.

“Take it off,” she said as she pulled away, and you obeyed, slipping out of your shirt so that she could see the cute bra underneath and the flush that ran down your neck. She licked her lips before attaching them to your neck and working her way down, leaving careful bruises as she reached back to unclip your bra. The soft moans you let out sent throbs through her body, and she knew. She knew she wanted all of you, forever, just like this.

She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before looking you in the eyes. “I want to go all the way with you.” You swallowed, and then, to her surprise, leaned up to kiss her.

“I want to go all the way with you too.” Your voice was still soft, but confident, and she watched as your hand went to unzip your skirt before once again capturing your lips.

As she felt you under her, tasted your lips and felt your hips jerk, heard your moans and felt your hands slipping under her own shirt, she made up her mind. She wasn’t playing anymore. She was serious. And as she laid you down on her desk, she whispered a promise into your ear. A promise of more. And a promise of forever.

[bellsybuilds]

[Overwatch] Hold your tongue 3/? (T, Akande/Lucio, 3.6k)

Hold your tongue, Chapter 3/? (Can also be read on AO3)

Doomfist | Akande Ogundimu / Lúcio Correia dos Santos (M)

Chapters 1 / 2 / 3 | Ceasefire Masterlist

To move forward, you must first look back.

-3 months ago-

“You know what this is?”

Hana squints at the tiny, circular container Lúcio holds up to her eye. Fitting small and neat in her palm, she pokes at the smooth, clear glass. Her voice is bright with conspiracy and triumph. “Omnic DNA.”

Lúcio arches an eyebrow. “Wha? Uh… maybe. I don’t… hmm… well.” He studies it closely, rubbing his chin in thought. He doesn’t think it’s based on omnic designs, but his homegrown knowledge of electrical engineering is passable, at best. He shakes the device in its case. “It’s a homing beacon. Tracker. I didn’t notice it ‘til we got back to base, and Athena’s alarms went off.”

Hana’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “It’s not one of yours?” At Lúcio’s shake of his head, she leans in for a closer look, mouth pensive. “Where did you get it?”

“You remember that friend we met today?”

Hana blinks at him. “Mister Mask? Or Mister Fist?”

Lúcio gives her a significant look, mouth tugging into a small smirk.

His new friend stares at him blankly. “I don’t know what that means.”

Lúcio flexes his arm, hand balling into a fist. Hana giggles at his exaggerated smirk, hiding her mouth behind her hand. It’s a good likeness. “I think someone just left me an invitation,” Lúcio explains, without explaining much of anything. Especially how the prospect makes his blood thrum at the challenge.

When Doomfist and Reaper made their stunt-worthy exit from Unity Plaza that afternoon, Lúcio thought that could be the last he would see of them, unless 76 decided to extend an olive branch while the DJ was still in town. That was unlikely, from what Lúcio gauged of the stern, proud soldier.

Lúcio wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Girl, we talked about this when I last saw you in London – Vishkar, the amplifier.” Lúcio had waved over his shoulder when the call came in, as though to gesture at all the things he’d resigned to leave with Rio when he went on tour. “That’s all done. I’m helping people another way now.”

Lena steamrolled on with her encouraging, sunny smile. Shrugging, like she was asking him to ‘pop down to the shops for some milk, luv’. “You’d be in our backlines as support,” she had said, “If anyone catches this on video, you’d be well out of range.”

Out of range? “You expecting a fight? I thought you said this was just an escort. And why can’t you hire private security for this?”

She hummed in consideration. “No, it’s sensitive, we are the security. And I meant… more if you were worried about a media storm. You have some big names backing you. But fire fights, too, right!”

Okay, he hadn’t specifically mentioned guns, but it was good to know where Lena’s head was at.

Lúcio snorted under his breath and smiled, calm and confident. “I’m not worried about any media. After Rio, people know what I stand for.”

Lena’s shifty look was slightly bashful while she bit her lip. Was she embarrassed? “Well… perception is reality, is what they say. And we’re still sort of… persona non grata. People infer a lot by the company you keep.”

“Hey. Hey. I could never be ashamed of being seen with you. Ace pilot. Fighter for the people. Doesn’t even cheat on races. I don’t shun my friends like that.”

Lena had brightened, leaning into the camera with an excited smile. “So, you’ll come? Just this once, I promise. We could really use your help, if it doesn’t disrupt your schedule. And you can wear a disguise… all mysterious-like if it’s easier. Talk to your agent.”

“Oh I will definitely not be telling them about this.”

But three months later, Lúcio was still riding with Overwatch and his agent was still wondering why Lucio had such a large allotment of free time that was originally slated for charity work and promotions. Volunteering is how he thought of it, as Lena had apologised they couldn’t pay him for his time. Lúcio wasn’t in need of the money, and he thought of all their strange security details as work to help a friend short-handed.

His agent would have had his head if they knew how he was ‘wasting’ his time.

And sometimes, Lúcio did wonder what was really going on – why specialists and scientists as overqualified as former Overwatch personnel were protecting a film director from fears of anti-omnic violence through a Hollywood set. But it was no grief to volunteer his time and abilities to heal their minor hurts and speed up their ventures (“I knew you brought that thing with you!” Lena had crowed when Lúcio had turned up with his sonic amplifier slung over his shoulder). He genuinely enjoyed their company: Jesse had a dry, wicked sense of humour; Lena always made him smile; Winston was patient and pleased that someone was interested in his inventions; and when Hana showed up, Lúcio was starstruck. It was also the first real sign that he wasn’t the only favour Overwatch was calling in: they were recruiting fresh blood.

He’d tried playing ignorant before, and it hadn’t ended well for Rio.

Then Soldier 76 turned up with Ana at his side. Old soldiers. Lúcio could see it in the way they carried themselves, their direct and confronting manner, accustomed to authority and sharp, considered answers. A heavy, weary quiet preceded each room they entered like an augur of grief. The hysterical reaction to their appearance had been enough to humble Lúcio into a quiet corner to observe, until those two elders had turned to Overwatch’s newest recruits and asked, “And who is this?”

They had returned to lay Numbani on the table and ask for help: a supposed ceasefire to a war Lúcio didn’t even realise was raging. A chill ran down his spine when he heard the name ‘Doomfist’, and he had said ‘yes’.  

It was fair time he learned what was really going on.

And of all Overwatch’s roster, Lúcio didn’t expect to be the one receiving a personal follow-up invitation. Or was it a challenge?

Hana takes the tiny container again and holds it up to the light, frowning. "So, you gonna call them?”

Lúcio shrugs, tracking the arcing glints of light off the clear glass as Hana turns it over under the pale bulbs of their hideaway. “Might drop in.”

“You can do that?”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”

It’s Hana’s turn to look skeptical, amusingly so. She thrusts both arms out to enframe the command room of agents before them, new and unfamiliar, and none the wiser for their scheming. Hana and Lúcio are both new to this strange organisation. It’s easy to bond over their youth and mutual celebrity when it’s earned them skepticism from these seasoned soldiers, scientists and… whatever McCree is.

Overwatch has co-opted this stationery re-supply store as their command centre in Numbani’s office precinct. For children who grew up hearing the legend of Overwatch and its agents, it’s sobering when they meet the shadows of its remains within abandoned buildings, reclaimed bases and crowded hotel rooms. The whole experience has been insightful: for all their humour and abilities, these people scramble to organise, and argue like every other group Lúcio has ever worked with. They’re just ordinary people.

They have more resources than Lúcio ever did when he and his crew led Rio against Vishkar, but his crew was tight. They were truly unified in common purpose.

Lena and her friends feel like they’re working from contract to contract – scattered, directionless, and united on hope for a mission nobody will speak aloud. Unstable grounds for trust or unity.

He swipes the container back from Hana, flipping it like a coin. “They’d just slow me down.”

Anyway, Lúcio is finding it hard to keep a low profile with his face plastered on banners through the whole city. At least he’d have an explanation for being seen in the streets. He reminds himself he’s only here as a favour to Lena, with his next concert not for another two days.

Hana leans in, crowding close against his shoulder. Sharing a desk in the back corner of the largely empty space, they are only half-listening with everyone else to Winston’s explanation of the storeroom of peanut butter unearthed that morning.

“Want back up?” Hana offers quietly, hopeful, angling for a cure to her boredom, but Lúcio smiles, shaking his head.

“I got this.”

///

Once he’s back in his hotel room, it’s a simple process to contact the world’s most accomplished hacker: a scrambled email to one of three watched inboxes, and then sitting back to wait. The only challenge is in earning their acknowledgement.

The video call comes less than ten minutes after Lúcio hits ‘send’.

Sombra’s face lights the heads-up display of Lúcio’s phone with her mischievous smile. Lúcio counts himself extremely lucky he gets a response each time he has reached out, that he is one of the few people in the world who knows the face behind the name. He has used her trust sparingly.

Sombra’s sing-song greeting makes him smile. “Ay, Lucito-oo-oo! La lucecita de mi noche!”

“Hola, Sombrita.” Lúcio winks, bringing up the high resolution scan and analysis of the tracker he had found tacked to his boot.

“Vishkar? Atlas? Who are we stealing from to–” Sombra’s gaze turns to the incoming image on her side. “Ooh.”

Lúcio watches her face carefully. “You lose something?”

Expression morphing to one of cooing appreciation, Sombra’s mouth purses in pleasure. “Mm, the detail on this: ‘exquisite’ as my friend would say.”

She laughs like it’s a shared private joke. Lúcio can’t help returning the smile, shaking his head. Sombra could never refrain from praising her own work, and he enjoys that about her. She is accomplished and deservedly proud of it.

On again, off again acquaintances, Lúcio hopes today that Sombra is on his side.

“A big guy from a bad place stuck this on me earlier today. What do you know about that?”

Sombra’s mouth pulls in a shrug, head tilted in consideration. “He’s not that bad.”

He frowns. Not that bad? Doomfist? The Scourge’s successor?  “What makes you say that?”

“He pays me.”

Lúcio blinks, mouth falling open. Sombra… and Doomfist? His brain feels like it has split down the middle. He leans in to his monitor. “You’re working with Talon? ¿Lula, en qué pensabas? ¿No sabes quién es? ¿Sabes las cosas que hizo?”

That went against everything she was supposed to stand for! She was supposed to be independent like him! Sombra was supposed to fight for the people, not… work with the people who would destroy them!

Sombra’s playful smile sharpens like the glint of a blade, a reminder that him she will cut him loose and scour all evidence of their bond without a second thought. He clenches his jaw under the intensity of her warning gaze that bores into him through the display.

“Name me 'squid’ again, Lucero,” she dares, cool and tempered. “You called me. You want answers, you mind your mouth.”

He rankles at the butcher of his name, biting down on the aggravation lest Sombra feed on his reaction.

She points off-screen presumably where Lúcio’s tracker displays on her side. “His name is ‘Doomfist’, you already know. He ordered a set of these; a lot of interesting people passing through Numbani these days.” She straightened in her chair, turning idly on its axle to provide her full attention. “I heard your talks were interrupted.”

“Yeah.” Lúcio deflates with a scowl, still stung with disappointment. He thought there were good odds Sombra would have intel on his mark, but not that she would be working with him, consciously and voluntarily.

“Well, if you’re interested, I think it’s worth hearing what he had to say. If I turn it back on, that tracker works both ways, you know.”

He didn’t even have to ask. Sombra may be one of the greatest founts of knowledge on the planet, but Lúcio wonders if she realises her own weaknesses? She could never resist a chance to close the social gap, bring the mighty low. If she was not stepping to protect Doomfist, then the man had not earned her complete loyalty yet.

Lúcio tries not to smile, cringing instead and affecting self-doubt.

“You mean– me? Talk to… him?”

Sombra shrugs. “Why not you?”

He can’t help showing her offer for what it was. “Sounds like a trap.”

“If you’re part of Overwatch, maybe. Or you could use your independent status to do something useful.” She raises her hand and, in a few blips of lavender, the heads up display blinks. A new window pops up with a street map of Numbani. In the heart of the residential district across the city, a red icon blinks, strong and steady.

Using his independent status.

“Like you?”

Sombra shakes her head, dismissing it immediately. “I don’t make house calls.”

Lúcio studies the red blink of the icon, considering his options.

“Is he alone?” he finally asks.

“He is.” Sombra leans in, the glint in her eye turning coy. “Don’t overstay your welcome.”

Lúcio smiles at the overt suggestion in her tone. “Still looking out for me? Watch your own back, Hermanita.”

She clicks her tongue, giving him a sharp wink. “Still older than you.”

The call disconnects.

///

-Present day-

Lúcio’s arrival is heralded by the strange sound of his skates, an electro-mechanical whir that always made Akande wonder how the DJ could achieve stealth if he even tried.

Today, stealth is not the priority.

“Coming in over the wing, open the doors.”

Lúcio maneuvers through the narrow gap of the rear cargo bay doors without breaking his stride, swinging down from the roof and and inside through one fluid motion. Akande’s palm slams the controls, and the door begins to seal behind him.

Before the door is entirely shut, Lúcio is already descending the ship’s stair, not sparing Akande a second glance. It stings, but there are greater concerns on Akande’s mind, too.

“Where is she?” Lúcio demands, catching sight of Sombra’s prone form in the same breath. He bolts across the short bay and drops to his knees, swinging the pack off his back. “Ay, Sombra! ¿Soy yo, Lúcio, puedes escucharme?” The caricature of Muiraquitã on his pack immediately begins to soothe with a familiar healing song as the audio medic digs in his bag for supplies, and glances back to Akande hovering uncertainly by the stairs. “Get over here, I need your help.”

“What should I do?” Akande kneels beside him, reaching again to apply pressure on Sombra’s wound.

Sweat beads on Lúcio’s hairline, he must have pushed hard to get here so quickly. His eyes are intent on Sombra’s wound while he lifts Akande’s hand to take in the damage. “Shut up and follow my lead.”

Sombra does not respond to the motion of Akande nor Lúcio crowding around her, to the pressure of Lúcio pressing Akande’s hands back with fresh bandages, or the jerk of her body when Lúcio cuts her jacket open to check for further wounds.

“¿Sombrita?” Lúcio calls sharply, firmly patting her cheek when she still doesn’t stir. Sombra’s head lolls to the side and Lúcio curses, pulling from his bag what Akande recognises as a scanner and one of the battery packs for his sonic amplifier. It sloshes with a rich gold liquid. “Okay, wound’s clear but her color is bad,” Lúcio says, drawing Akande’s attention back to his stern expression searching Sombra’s face, so keenly focused in his work. “We’re going to close this up, and then I need your help administering a transfusion; she needs blood.”

Akande nods without hesitation. “I am a universal donor.”

“I know,” Lúcio mutters, attention focused on calibrating another tool Akande does not recognise, something that looks like a thick, elaborate pen ending in a round, tapered point. Plugging its cabled extension into his battery pack of golden liquid, it lights up with an ethereal humm. Lúcio pulls Akande’s hand away and holds the edges of Sombra’s wound apart. Golden mist threads from the hand-held device into the red cavity of her flesh, and Akande watches the wound knit back together before his eyes.

He has seen many miracles in his lifetime: from his own augmentations to the jewel of Numbani rising against the African sun, but witnessing the technology of the world-renowned Doctor Ziegler never ceases to inspire awe in him. It has a finesse that his own scientists haven’t yet achieved. Those patents, those raw tools… are worth a lot of money.

The battery back is barely tapped when the pen eclipses with a soft, high note, signaling its work complete, and Lúcio turns up the volume on the song from his pack, diving back inside. Akande offers his arm, holding the bag open with his free hand as Lúcio searches, pulling out the administration set and a pack of alcohol swabs.

“When this is done, you’re gonna explain what the hell happened here,” Lúcio growls, powering up the equipment and watching its readings before reaching for Sombra’s bared inner arm. The administration set includes a scanner that reveals the line of her veins in glowing blue tracks beneath the skin. Sombra doesn’t react when the needle sinks in and Lúcio reaches for Akande’s arm next. “I need you to stand as I give her fluids. Let gravity do its work, yeah?”

Lúcio’s assertive beside manner is reassuring and directs his focus. Akande obeys without a second thought, without even questioning if kneeling from his angle with his height provides enough downward flow or if maybe Lúcio just wants Akande to step back and give him some space.

“Hold this.”

Akande dutifully takes the clear bag of fluids and watches the intravenous line sink into his agent’s other arm. It occurs to him this is the first time he’s seen Lúcio perform his role of an audio medic. Lúcio is focused, methodical and gratefully calm under pressure.

That he was on the verge of tears not half an hour ago, feels like some other world’s reality.

“You’re good at this,” Akande murmurs.

“Had a lot of practice because of people like you,” Lúcio says, taping down the IV line to keep it steady and from falling out. Again, he doesn’t bother glancing Akande’s way.

“Don’t pity Sombra. She’s capable and proud of who she is.”

Finally Lúcio looks at him. His glare is venomous and tempers the warmth spreading in Akande’s chest. “She’s bleeding out on your floor, is what she is, Akande.”

Why is it that it only feels like Lúcio says his name when he’s unhappy? Akande scowls and nods back to Sombra. He needs to redirect their focus.

“How do you know her?”

“We have similar interests.” Lúcio snorts a laugh under his breath, studying the readings from another scanner he runs the length of Sombra’s body. “Or, I thought we did. Then she started working with you.”

Akande refrains from pointing out Lúcio’s own hypocrisy. Working together. Sleeping together. Which was worse?

“Thank you for coming,” Akande says.

Lúcio’s retort is instant. “I didn’t do it for you.”

Akande bites the inside of his cheek, stifling a sigh. What else can he do? “Will she be all right?”

Lúcio shrugs with a shake of his head, setting the scanner down by Sombra’s side, now monitoring her vital signs. It beeps with the slow rhythm of her heart rate. “Now we wait.” From his kneeling position, he cranes his neck to meet Akande’s eye far, far above him. “Good thing you’re so big. She might need a large transfusion.”

“Take what you need.”

“Count on it.” Lúcio’s jaw clenches, eyes returning to his patient while he cushions her head with his folded up jacket. And Akande believes in the moment that his former lover would gladly take the excuse to bleed him dry.

‘Former’… so soon, so soon. So bitter, Lúcio.

Clank.

Akande’s eyes leap to the ceiling of the airship. “What was that?” He lowers on his haunches, instinctively sinking into a battle ready stance.

It sounded like something hit them. Or landed.

Lúcio is already climbing to his feet, watching Sombra as though she will flatline without his attention for a bare moment. His eyes raise to Akande as he backs up towards the main ramp and his bloodied hands lift in appeal. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, don’t move.”

Akande’s hackles raise at the sense of imminent threat prickling the hairs on his neck. A low growl escapes his throat at the attempt to mollify him, and the arm infusing Sombra with life-giving blood clenches to a fist, his other hand holding the clear bag of fluids against the needle firm in his arm. “What have you done?”

He watches Lúcio reach back and slap the control releasing the main ramp. The warm sea breeze rushes in, thick and humid.

“Not everything’s up to me, okay?”

He hears the easing whine of jetpacks before the figure drops from the sky like a comet of azure, wings arched, shoulders broad and proud. The surrounding pillars tremble with the force of their landing, one knee planted in the ground. They are gilded head to toe in thick armour that gleams, piercing in its polish under the early morning sun.

Akande scowls at the sharp, dark eyes that find him under the helm of their golden beak. He shifts minutely to place himself between this new threat and his fallen agent.

“Helix International,” he grinds his jaw, shaking his head. He would recognise that flight suit anywhere. “Lúcio. You do have friends in all places, don’t you?”

Lúcio does not reply and Akande does not look his way as the newcomer rises to their feet and climbs the ramp, slinging a short cannon in their arms.

“Akande Ogundimu,” the woman declares in that same tone Akande has heard from countless authorities who failed to pen him in over the years. But her scowl is fierce, her eyes hard as diamonds, and if Akande was not hooked up to a needle, he would relish the challenge of that cannon being leveled at his chest. “I am Captain Amari of Helix International Security. By the authority of the United Nations, you are under arrest for violating the terms of your sentence. You’re coming with me.”

—————————–

My eternal thanks to the Doomcio discord server for the following Spanish translations, specifically @millie-on-a-leaf and @cryptidbae: 1) Ay, Lucito-oo-oo! La lucecita de mi noche! / Ay, lil Lucio, the little light of my night! 2) ¿Lula, en qué pensabas? ¿No sabes quién es? ¿Sabes las cosas que hizo? / Squid, what are you thinking, you know who he is? You know what he’s done? ('Lula’ in Portuguese is 'squid’) 3) Hermanita / Sweet little sister (Lucio says this in a fond, patronising way, knowing full well Sombra is his elder) 4) ¿Sombra, soy yo, Lucio, puedes escucharme? / Sombra, it’s Lucio, can you hear me?

[stone-man-warrior]

February 19, 2021: 9:48 am:

==================================================

Observation:

A series of events that led to an incoming call on my phone is worthy of note.

This email promotion from American Music Supply came in yesterday afternoon at 4:01 pm. The “01″ being of interest as a “perpetuation” statement.

Features Shure Wireless products.

This arrived at 8:21 am shortly after I went online with the computer. From Mariam Webster, Week in Review:

I was interested in “Kerfuffle” having seen Boris Johnson use that word in a Tweet last week or so.

Here, we get some insight from MW about “Kerfuffle”. They side-step “Kerfuffle”, and move over to “Kafuffle” in their explanation of word use historically in literary works.

So, I saw that the letter “R” had been taken out, in favor of the letter “F” for the spelling of a different word, explaned with obscure litterary reference where I see little association to Boris Johnson’s use of a different word, that is similar to “Kafuffle”.

I make assessment mentally: “There must be an “RF” frequency generator around here somewhere” I thought to myself.

I did that assessment about radio frequency, then looked at the ad for the sure products again, and clicked the link in the email to get to the page below that explains more about wireless transmitters made by Shure.

That is exactly the moment the phone rang, after seeing that Kerfuffle is not Kafuffle, and the difference is an “RF” re-arrangement, and is based on a Boris Johnson tweet, and was announced by MW, the source authority of all things “dictionary text”. As I accessed an advertisement about wireless transmitters, a call incoming from 541-641-7862 at 9:45 am, just at moment I accessed the Shure page from the AMS email promotion shown above, is notable.

The listed source area of the call. Means nothing.

Yoncala.

Must be a joke sent by Boris Johnson.

Boris playfully says: “I tire of this”, with that call.

Those words are made famously recognizable by a local attorney by the name of Christopher Mecca, who is known to say: “I tire of this” when he gets frustrated about things he loses control of.

Some observations I made about that Shure ad, includes that the grey color is both on the background and on the text, making a difficult read due to reduced contrast between text and background. Is a “Gamma Adjustment” statement, and is a “place where opposites meet” sort of statement with the use of the grey color. It’s complicated, you need to understand the Queen’s Black & White Television, and that it has a brightness, contrast, and volume knob, sometimes the reception is not quite right, and you have to smack it up side of the cabinet to make the picture more clear.

Sophisticated, but with only three knobs.

From there, we can talk about Joe Biden‘s fake bullshit rhetoric terror command language in that video speech this morning where “file cabinets w/replaceable locks and roller bearing drawers” is the message presented in the code.

Specifics about these two file cabinets are part of today’s Joe Biden terror speech.

“you have to smack it upside the cabinet to make picture satisfactory” ... part of the operational characteristics of the Queen‘s black & white television.

“Exchange “head” for “cabinet”, for a clearer picture and some Smack”

That is the Joe Biden message in his Twitter terror speech today.

There is more, But Joe is saying he wants another crew of terror assassins to come take a whack at me, and is offering some heroin to the successful assassins.

Here is the link to the Joe’s Happy Heroin Smack Hit Orders.

There is other stuff in there too.

https://twitter.com/StateDept/status/1362797657580838913

10:49 am:

These assholes are hijacking my computer again through the Norton Symantec internet security from Centurylink terror cell HQ, I suspect they source is at Grants Pass Community Church today, and is mobile terror hacker tools provided by Centurylink ISP.

Happened the moment I posted this Tumblr entry just now.

That pop up window about Dark Web is the hack, it has a bug built in and is disguised as a friendly reminder, Canadian style.

=======================

11:09 am:

had to reset the digital signal amplification module, restart the computer and runs scans with the same security product that is being used to do the hacking into my computer, normally I would have swapped out the flux capacitor for a freshly charged one, but those are no longer available.

=========================================

It’s very clear that Christopher Mecca is in charge of today’s hit from Biden’s terror team (Ann Wilson at Amp Guru on Kauai Ranch).

Early this morning I saw someone wearing the Brown KKK Robe out side of my kitchen window at about 7:00 am.

I’ll wager that was Christopher Mecca.

He sometimes wears a orange hard hat, and that has a wireless guitar transmitter attached to the back side of the orange hard hat. They use that communication when iPhone blu-tooth comm devices are too risky.

Chris Mecca has/had an office at the Sears shopping center in Grants Pass nearby the La Burrita Restaurant where John Kitzhaber was killed in defense many years ago.

Chris Mecca is an attorney, but lives on the property owned by Grants Pass Community Church at the house where the pastor is supposed to live.

They are all pirates, the attorney is a terrorist, is the pastor.

Chris Mecca preferes to attack me from the Chapman County Courts terror cell at 3701 Russell Road. He is going to be upset about the death of his comrade County Court Judge Honorable Patrick Wolke last few days ago. Pat needs Chris to operate, and Chris needs Pat to operate. Pat is dead. That will cause problems for Chris.

Chris has a lovely Cannibal wife by the name of Kelly Mecca, she has worked at Ray’s Food Place for more than twenty years, capturing, torturing, killing, and then eating the vacationing tourist victims who visit this area for the great recreation that it offers. All of the local SDA who attend the Grants Pass Community Church are cannibals, they eat human meat. Sometimes the human meat is available at the Ray’s Food Place Butcher Counter if you know the magic words to get some of it.

There is a lot of poison gas already released in the neighborhood. The kind that makes blurred vision, and swollen and painful right leg conditions.

Please send help.

US Military is required, there are 50,000 terror soldiers in Josephine county alone, many hundreds of thousands more throughout the state of Oregon.

Bring your own hospital, those are occupied by the terror army here.

============================================

5:48 pm:

Here is more about the Joe Biden Schnitzel German phile cabinet terror hit presented on Twitter earlier today:

This tweet generated from a Twitter Trend about a 27 year old (is “27 Club“ and is a shape, a “cube” or “container”)

This is the same as the keys that are in the phile cabinet in the ad above where I just read the information provided in the Joe Biden speech in order to know how to find the phile cabinet’s that were shown above and the other information contained outside of the Biden Phile cabinet for the Chris Mecca hit orders.

(think in terms of that report about terrorism I sent to the white house the other day, where I was provided with 2000 characters at the WH website to say my thing, not enough room to work with, so inclusion of external information provided with the links to this StoneMan Warrior account so they could be fully informed, and advised of the sophistaced nature of the terror reported, and pointed out the 911 Emergency Phone Service is controlled by terror army, does not work, and only brings assassins.)

That leads to anothet email from music industry, this one featuring Electrovoice Speakers sent later in the day today at 4:01 pm, 24 hours after that other email was sent with the Shure Wireless products.

When I click that and apply the clues in the “Key Tweet” (Mike Pompeo Keynote Speaker at the SXSW convention where Bernie Sanders showed up at the Boris Johnson Basketball Game, from Yesterdays “Iranian Terror Rental Service At US State Department, The Blinken Tugboat Tweet about a educational situation, all inclusive here along with my reports of terrorism ... that is why the file cabinets are necessary, and is why Dolly Parton was featured in news yesterday to say the “Statue of Limitations Timing is off” sort of message about carting away my belongings.

It’s complicated like that.

But, click the link as directed by Mike Pompeo disguised as Nicholas G, Riech in the Tweet shown above, do math, and here are the file cabinet drawers below symbolically, somehow.

The “drawers are removable from the cabinet” is part of the message, and is part of the Joe Biden instructions to kill me and take down this Tumblr account.

Give me an interview about terrorism, and I will gladly decode the rest of the comm in the speakers.

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-etx15sp-15-1800-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-ETX15SP

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-etx18sp-18-1800-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-ETX18SP

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-ekx15sp-15-1300-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-EKX15SPUS

https://www.americanmusical.com/electro-voice-ekx18sp-18-1300-watt-powered-subwoofer/p/ELE-EKX18SPUS

Joe Biden has it worked out where he is able to send out terror commands and hit orders that are hidden inside of coded information the is about his pedophilia preferences of little red headed girls, and, he still gets a pass on both the terrorism and the pedophilia.

=====================

In the unlikely event there could be someone watching the baby other than me, be advised that I am waiting to see a Tweet from UK that says something to the affect of “upside down sterling”, “dead whale”, or maybe “sterling roll over” kind of Tweet. They already said “Sterling remains buoyant” night before last at Reuters UK. The is not a good thing for Britain, the sterling is metal, should stay under the water.

If the sterling goes belly-up in some way, that to me says the Guantanamo Bay Submarine in the Gulf of Mexico, a British boat, and maybe the other one at Pelican Bay in northern California,was sunk, caught, or are otherwise out of commission.

I’ve been poisoned with a variety of airborne gasses non-stop for the past week since I sent that report of terrorism to the White House, and I don‘t really want to do any more decoding work, I feel sick, my leg hurts real bad, and there is no help to stop the attack. Twitter is still Tweeting, and that tells me there is never going to be an end to the terrorism we face in USA.

=======================================

8:18 pm:

“Beyond Westlessness“

Remember what I was saying about “Bee in your Bonnet” is an SDA expression used for communincation between SDA terror cells to share “brainstorming” ideas, basically “Bee in Your Bonnet” is an idea, something that an SDA terror cell has used for capturing US Citizens, and works good, so they share their ideas with one another about what works, and what does not work I suppose is also included in Bee in Your Bonnet” SDA terror comm.

Here, the “Bee in Your Bonnet” announcement is presented on the header of the Twitter account featuring Joe Biden, a Seventh Day Adventist Cannibal and a Pedophile who seeming was released from federal prison, given a $1,000 suit to wear, and the keys to the White House as a gift from Britain to USA.

“Bee Yond” (do your own math, I tire of this)

Bugs Bunny at the White House. Bugs is funny, but he’s an asshole.

https://twitter.com/MunSecConf

That Presidential video I tried to link above won‘t play at any of the places it’s posted, if you did not see it live like I did, you won‘t be able to see it. In the background where Joe was standing while doing the speech, there were two objects, one on each side of him. The looked almost exactly like those two file cabinets I linked above, and is party how I was able to read the clues that led me there.

Joe mentioned “Democrat national Convention” in the speech he made. The statement was out of place, did not really fit in with the gist of the speech.

You can’t see it, because US State is suppressing it on Twitter.

Do you see that MSC logo in that header above?

Think about file cabinets (this tumblr account Stone-Man-Warrior@Tumblr.com is the file cabinet being referred to in the wake of the report of terrorism and request for help I sent to the white house on the 13th of February 2021.)

now look at this logo:

It’s a match.

Seagate makes hard-drives. It’s “Close enough for government work” for the match.

Seagate is a company that was hijacked early on in the terror takeover. When I was held captive in around 1998 - 2002 or so, I was forced to create design work, and had to use a “Seagate FreeAgent” hard drive that was brought each day, and taken away each day.

In 1998, I was storing files on a hard drive with 1.5 - 3 terrabytes of disc space.

That was way way way beyond what was publicly available at the time as far as storage space technology is concerned. That hard drive is used to do a lot of things, I made many of the logos for some of the so called “unicorns” as a result of being held captive and was told to store the work on that Seagate FreeAgent 1.5 - 3 terrabyte hard drive at a time when terrabytes were unheard of.

It does not make a difference. nothing I say here makes any difference only because there are no more national security people.

I cannot get any help. I need medical treatment, but there are no more real doctors, there are only terror soldier operative actors who pretend, they play role of health provider, and kill those who go to see a doctor.

That and Twitter is still tweeting.

no help will ever be able to do any kind of security work if Twitter remains active.

no doctors will ever be restored to the communities.

no one will stop the aerial poison gas from being release by the terror soldiers who use Twitter for commands to use the gas.

as more aerial gas is released by command on Twitter, the terror army will continue to draw people to the health providers with symptoms from the poison gas, while Twitter promotes the fake Corona Virus is the reason so many are getting sick, and going to see a doctor, but that is all bullshit designed to remind you every day, to go to see a doctor. There, everyone is killed. US Citizens go in the front door at the hospital, and a Canadian look-a-like comes out of the side door later on, using the name of the murdered victim citizens.

I am tired. I can barely see the screen, the gas is fouling up my vision, my circulation is poor, my leg is swollen, and I have coughing fits when the put the poison gasses into the house through the cracks around the doors and windows, laundry vent, chimney, and other places that all houses have available for inserting gas with pressure to poison people.

Since making that report to the white house, the gas attacks from outside has increased dramatically. The number of dead terror soldiers ratio per day that I have defended against has increased dramatically, and there is no signs of any helpful people.

I did not opened my front door to go outside yesterday or the day before at all. It’s too dangerous to go outside after asking the White House for help to stop mass murders in Oregon, and US and Global take over.

Earlier today shortly after that incoming phone call from “Yoncala” came in to my phone, a powerful jet airplane flew low and slow over my house, it was going south towards the Grants Pass Municipal Airport, which is about seven miles south of my house. That jet is the same kind of thing that happens when SAGClubMed Junket Jet comes each time, they always buzz my house first, then again usually on the flight out, typically after a three to four day mass murder festival that SAGClubMed Junket is about.

So, Junket Jet Flyover at about noon or so today is what also happened, it’s part of the “Joe Biden Staple’s Phile Cabinet Electrovoice State Department Iranian Tugboat Terror in the Mediteranian Sea Rental Service” that has been building momentum over the past three days.

============================

9:27 pm:

Here is a video part from ABC World news retweeted from the “Munich Security Conference” Twitter Verified Account:

There are the symbolic phile cabinets there.

What you need to do, is make assessment from the product descriptions at the link I provided for you above, about the Staple’s File Cabinets. Look at the keys that are in each one. See that one is “Aluminum, and one is “Metal”. Read about the removable lock that is replaceable, and see that they each feature bearing roller drawer guides. I don‘t recall seeing information about “Removable Drawers” but a removable/Replaceable Lock is specified.

Then, the Electrovoice Speakers, presented later on, are basically the same shape as the file cabinet drawers are. There are four speakers specified from instructions contained in that Trending on Twitter Tweet from “Nicholas G. Riech” (is Mike Pompeo, or Blinkin in disguise, or someone from “Amp Guru” terror cell) then see that those are the drawers. See that there are two sizes of speakers, 18″ and 15″, and there are two sizes of File Cabinet, 18″ and 15″ wide, “Letter & Legal”.

Look for other information throughout all of what I linked for you. I did not read the specifications for the speakers, I don‘t want to read about my own murder contract from the President any more than I need to for seeing that the hit order is present.

The hit order is present, and includes that this Tumblr account is to be “Carted Away with a hand truck”

https://twitter.com/ABCWorldNews/status/1362807660958089221

=================

9:47 pm:

We are at a point in USA where reporting terrorism to the US President to ask for help in a national emergency, is responded to with assassins sent from the White House to kill those who make such reports, and, to delete any evidence that a report was made.

This is not a new phenomenon.

If you read this account, there are other times when I sent reports of the same terrorism, to the White House, to Donald Trump, and the result then was a bomb at a doctor office that backfired and exploded the assassins and the bus they arrived in. February 7th 2017 I think it was, I explained it many times here on this account.

Further research would show that Barack Obama was also informed through the White House Contact Page, and, with hand written letter in the United States Postal Mail sent from the US Post Office at 97532 in Merlin where I hand carried the letter and sent it to the White House addressed to Barack Obama with registered or certified mail at a time when Joe Biden was Vice President. The same terrorism was reported then as now.

I called George W. Bush’s White House Phone number to report the terrorism back then also.

All of them have sent assassins to kill me, none sent any help, none did anything to stop the mass murders.

Hillary Clinton came to my home personally to kill me in around 2008.

I am tempted to challenge someone to report the same kind of terrorism to the white house, the kind that is real, that includes mass murder at the grocery stores in the day time with use of poison gasses.

Don‘t do it. You have to find another way, The US President’s don‘t do US national defense work, they do terror take over of USA work in league with Britain.

==========================================

February 20, 2021: 9:29 am:

Reminder: If nsa were to run across any Seagate FreeAgent hard drives, be advised that those old/new pre-release technology ones like the one I was forced to use, they look exactly the same as the ones the were made available at Walmart in around 2009. When you start it up, it makes a series of little lights that look somewhat like stars all arranged on the front panel. Also, those were “encryption“ hard drives. The way that works, is when files are stored, someone can make a password protected file that encapsulates the information to be encrypted, then, the encrypted information within that file is made invisible to anyone who browses the contents of the hard drive, and that is what the encryption is for. It’s a feature that makes a set of information completely invisible on the FreeAgent hard drive, without the password, no one will even know that such encrypted files are stored on it, and, without specialized disc annalists tools, no one can even know that any disc space is occupied by such encrypted files.

I’ll wager that Joe Biden has an array of SeaGate FreeAgent Encryption Discs filled with kiddie-porn edited with aboriginal down under BBC news Pence music, so, be advised of that.

Also, another reminder: Mike Pence is a Grants Pass Oregon former resident, maybe is real home town. Only very few people know that.

Barack Obama grew up in San Fernando Valley California, not Hawaii, not anywhere else, not where the publicly available information says he grew up.

[krystalclearfashion]

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So this is going to be a bit long but bear with me I had what I believe to be a pointless and incredibly frustrating experience with the assistant manager jamie at your auburn hills great lakes crossing location today I have been coming here for three years I frequent your orlando san marcos and new jersey locations as well at least once a year when we stop we usually spend 5 to 10 thousand dollars on your products the system is simple I go in park in a corner and bring bins to my corner sort them bag them move them to the front register and repeat today I brought a personal duffel bag as it holds about 8 to 12 of your bags worth of stuff I get told that i’m not allowed to use it because it’s policy not a big deal at all I say okay i’ll do that for the rest rather than rebag all of this i’ll just go up in line and pay for it and it can sit behind the counter seems pretty reasonable to me nope I got obstructed suggested that I might be stealing something and not allowed to pass stating if I don’t want to follow the system I can leave he then takes my entire duffel dumps it onto the floor and then rebags it into victoria secret bags then moves it to the front counter so it can be rang in I thought this was a little odd but hey he was doing all the work rebagging it so whatever i’m like dude i’m going to be spending about 8k today all I want to do is come in spend some money get out without any drama what’s the problem whoevers in charge should be thrilled with a sale like this we’re spending 8k keep in mind that I told him that I would do what he wanted and it wasnt’ a big deal and the response was to the effect of stop being lippy and just listen I told him what do you want from me I just agreed with you and said I would use your bags i’m not being lippy at all I know this because I said okay dude not a problem i’ll use your bags his response was maybe if you get to buy it i’m like what are you suggesting that an 8 000 order is something you guys don’t want he’s like yeah if you buy it i’m like dude we are spending 8k today why would I bag up a bunch of stuff and spend 2 3 hours picking our your fabulous product to not buy it anyway so I had 4 credit cards one card had 2 000 one had 3500 one had 2000 and one had 1000 because I am buying for multiple people I had 4 different cards all in my name I wanted one receipt for each card not a big deal to me right wrong again he cited some policy and said if the order is more than 750 items that they aren’t allowed to ring in under 750 items on any one receipt id like to point out that that amount is higher than your employees said they could take as a cash payment I asked him to please show me that I would understand better if I could just read it he was willing to do so he brought out the policy book and to my surprise what it actually said was words to the afffect of cash payments cannot be split up or over 750 items I forget the second half my immediate reply was so what’s the big deal im using credit not cash he snatched the policy book away from me at that point and said you know what you can just listen to me or I don’t have to let you buy anything it’s up to my discretion I then called your orlando outlet and your new jersey outlet and talked to the store managers and cited your policy I was given I asked them to confirm if that was accurate and both said if it was a policy it was news to them I then asked if they would let me buy my order using 4 cards and 4 receipts the woman at orlando said oh my gosh yes we do that every single day I asked if I went to her store if I would have any trouble with this in the future and was told no then she said you can always come down here if you’re in the area and i’ll be happy to take your order after that phone call I tried again here’s the video of that attempt I said listen I have 4 credit cards your register girl said you told her she can’t ring up an order under 750 items that’s 3500 if it’s 5 items not all of my cards have that much I have done multiple receipts every time I came here heck I can even supply them to show it he tells me that because I am order so many items that I can’t have less tan 750 items per receipt so I point around to everyone else and ask what about everyone else you aren’t forcing them to spend a minimum of 750 items what about the final charge i’ll have 750 items for two tickets but the leftover isn’t going to be 750 items you’re not going to let me buy them he shrugged his shoulders to say no at this point I haven’t yelled ive been a bit snarky and sarcastic because I know he’s just giving me a hard time two people ring in our order almost every time I am up there and we were there 3 times in the last 6 months spent a bunch each time so at 730 8pm or so we are done shopping assuming that two people could ring us up ended up being a fantasy he forced one employee only to ring us up later on he comes up when its now close to 9pm and says hey you mind if we ring you up on both registers I chuckle and say no I don’t but you do you don’t want to be breaking that 750 rule do you he glared at me and then sent the employee away and walked off after blinking a few times I laugh because after telling me over and over he couldn’t do it he just got caught trying to do what should have been done to begin with a short while later after 9 I find out that everyone is standing uip front except for the one girl and another associate because none of the rest of them are allowed to help her ring us up the only two people left in the store with about 700 more items to be rang in if that’s not enough since it was a holidy all of these employees are apparently being paid overtime to stand around and wait at a bit after 10 all but two girls leave and one girl is waiting to count cash while the other girl sits and keeps ringing stuff in we apologize profusely we expected two employees to ring us up like always and timed our visit to be out around 9 if this had happened instead of having one literally stand there and watch her for 1 hour and 47 minutes after close we would have all been out on time and no overtime or extra hours spent so finally at 10 47 pm our orders are done we thank the lovely girl lauren and jasmine who got stuck staying 2 hours past close because a manager made up some random policy and had to double down when I pointed out he really needed to follow that 750 rule when he was going to toss another girl on the register if this is policy fine it doesn’t seem to be no manager at your other outlets knew what he was talking about the orlando one insisted that the only restrictions are on cash payments and verified I was paying cash or credit it’s a pretty humiliating experience to get hassled trying to buy panties and bras by someone who’s on some type of power trip the only thing I said sideways to him was that I flat out didn’t believe his policy and that credit absolutely is not the same as cash I didnt call him any names scream at him or did anything to disrupt the store beyond what you see in the videos if this is not policy i’d like an apology from that manager in person or over the phone admitting he was mistaken I would hope that the next time I go there I am not hassled but if not I guess there’s always orlando or new jersey who seem to be quite friendly I also want to give recognition to jasmine and lauren lauren is the poor soul who got stuck ringing everything in alone because of the manager’s silly rule and not allowing anyone to help because it would be in violation of the 750 item rule jasmine was the cash counter who had to wait until we were out of the store to count cash even more interesting is that I had a former employee with me helping me buy and she said she never heard of this policy either but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t added since she left she was just as confused because the manager spent over 30 minutes trying to explain and defend this when that time certainly would have been more efficiently spent doing productive things instead of hassling someone who literally sits in a corner and speaks to no one while sorting through your products one bin at a time id love a call back about this or to find out what exactly is going on ive never been hassled like this before and it was a little frustrating and very trying to keep my cool joe rossetti alexandria gunn See Other related products: Walk Away I Suffer From That Disorder Where I Speak The Truth T Shirt

[smile-smile-ichthys]

Hosts of Japan - Chapter One

Featuring @whatdoyouexpectthistime @smutmylifeup and @hifftn

Hosts of Japan is a multi-chapter fic about a young woman, H, who runs a business of hiring out voltage men to travelling ladies to show them around Tokyo. But when she gets a phonecall with a strange request, will she finally let go of her past and learn to love someone who deserves it?

Inspired by these multi-chapter fics - MJS and High Voltage

“For three days? Yep, no that’s not too short, we do any length of time no problem” I said to a new potential client over the phone “Yeah of course, I’m sending over the terms and conditions for you to sign now via the email you gave me”

Typical day in the office really, me trying to talk to a client and explaining everything to them, all the while Mieke pulling stupid faces in the office opposite mine. Why did I rent an office floor with glass doors? Oh yeah, thought it had a nicer, more welcome feel to it all. Bad move.

“Yeah just read over them please, there’s not much to read unlike some companies” Mieke pulled another stupid face “and just sign it and send it back then we’ll pair you with a host” and another “sure sure, talk soon, thank you, bye!” I hanged up and she instantly stopped.

I stood and she turned back to her computer, but that didn’t stop me from going over to her little office.

I loved working here, it was my business after all, but I knew I had hired the best team when I actually enjoyed coming in to work every day. ‘Hosts of Japan’ was my idea, my business, my baby which had blossomed in the past couple of years. Each month was getting booked up within days of releasing it, it was getting so busy we were beginning to debate whether we needed a couple extra hosts. Who knew women coming to visit japan and wanting a handsome Japanese tour guide would be so popular? After all, who knew Japan better than the locals? The business was growing beautifully and with the next month of December being released in the next few days, I knew it was time to find new hosts.

“Mieke, you’re gonna have to stop doing that whenever I’m on the phone” I scolded her.

“Oh, but it’s so funny to try and make you laugh on the phone” Mieke laughed, spinning on her chair to face me.

“It’s really not” I argued.

“You do it when I talk to the guys! Remember last time I was on the phone with Nomura? You had me choke on my coffee and he genuinely almost came round to check I was ok! I was the one checking on him!” she laughed, making me reminisce. Ah good times.

Mieke was an awesome, kick butt, friend and colleague I had hired. She was mainly in charge of looking after the health and wellbeing of the hosts. With her no mess attitude, she made sure the guys stuck to the 11pm curfew when working with clients. Only if it had been agreed upon prior to the clients’ holiday would they be allowed to stay out with them past that time. It kept them safe, and gave them time to go home and get some sleep. In order to ensure they were going home and looking after themselves, I had to have someone who was willing to tell someone off, especially those who could charm their ways out of it. Mieke knew how to do that, and my God she could do it well. God only knows the amount of times Nomura has asked to stay past the 11pm curfew because his client was cute…

We knew things would happen from time to time. Ladies with attractive men who could flirt and charm their way out of anything, things were bound to happen. Yeah, we had rules about that but only loose ones. If they weren’t scheduled in and bound by contract, what happened in hotels, parks, beaches, whatever, we didn’t mind. Most of the time, the guys did as Mieke asked and behaved, I think there was only one instance when we first started when a host broke the contract. He didn’t stay, thankfully. Mieke kept them in line, that’s all I asked for.

“Ok, ok, that is true, how are the guys anyway?” I asked.

“Yeah, they’re good, they’ve sent their availability for December, and to be honest, we’ve got a good amount of time with them, but demands getting pretty bad now” Mieke expressed her worry.

“I know, I asked Miho if she’s managed to find some suitable guys to help ease the strain” I explained “think Jazz is coming in today to go through them with me, I think we should try two more guys for December and January before thinking about getting more”

“At least we’re six months in advance, so it’s shouldn’t be too hard” Mieke smiled.

“Nah, shouldn’t be” I smiled back.

“Shouldn’t be what?” Jazz asked as she came in to Mieke’s office.

“Too hard to find some guys” I said, perching on Mieke’s desk happily “Who have you got for me?”

Jazz chuckled, handing me a couple of folders. I opened them to find two extremely attractive guys, and yet they seemed a little different to the other men we had already hired. I wasn’t sure what, but they both seemed to…glow slightly. Some strange aura.

“Strange aura right?” Jazz said.

“Yeah, how did you…” I asked.

“I felt the same, even on the phone to them, they both seemed pretty confident in themselves, but I don’t know, just felt strange is all” she explained.

“In a bad way?” Mieke asked, taking one of the folders from me.

“Not especially, didn’t feel anything bad about them” Jazz said.

I read the file left with me, while Mieke read the other. ‘Miyabi’, aged 26, short ash blonde hair, loves to mingle with everyone, even shyer people, super confident, freely available.

“Hmm, this one looks good for those who are unsure about venturing out a bit, but also those who really want to go out and do new things, probably not good for those in between” I said.

“That’s what I was thinking” Jazz said.

“Hmm I’m not sure how to pronounce this guy’s name…” Mieke said “But he’s cute and seems to fit the in between section perfectly, someone respectable and understanding, he seems approachable too”

“I think he said Huedhaut, but he did also say Hue was fine” Jazz said “So, what do you think? Should I bring them in to interview properly?”

“Got the green light from me, two different guys to cover every kind of traveller” I grinned.

Jazz and Miho were perfect for the job. They mainly helped with how to run the business, advertising, legalities and all that, but they definitely knew who to hire and who not to go near. Also, them both having partners in the law and business department helped as well.

Miho was engaged to a fine gentleman Goto in the police force, high ranking, naturally. Only the best for her.  Jazz was with a business, and bar, man named Kunihiko. He was dashing and charming, again, only the best for her too. Every time we all went out together, even Mieke and her boyfriend, Ryosuke, I could certainly tell they truly loved their ladies.

That’s when my phone rang. It was him.

“H, if you answer that and it’s him, I’m gonna…” Jazz began but I had already picked the phone up.

“Shhh, hi, how are you?” I asked.

“I’m good, thank you kindly H, are you free tonight? I wish to ask you something?” Genzo asked, making my heart race.

Genzo, my close friend ever since I move to Japan all those years ago. He was with me through thick and thin, he even gave me the last of the money to get this business going. And yet, he had never felt the same way about me as I felt about him.

“Tonight?” I glanced at the girls, both of them annoyingly rolling their eyes at me. They didn’t like Genzo, both told me he’s a creep and I should move on, but…I couldn’t. “Yeah, I’m free tonight”

“Great usual place, see you at 7” he hanged up.

“H, don’t do this to yourself, look, Ryo knows someone who would be way better than him, why don’t we double date?” Mieke suggested.

“Kuni even knows a few single guys too” Jazz pitched in “don’t put yourself through this hope again that’s he’s going to ask you out”

“I’m not, I know he usually just asks about business plans each month, I mean December is due soon so, makes sense” I noticed them glaring “come on, I’m fine, honestly”

My office phone began to ring and I ran off, thankful for the disruption.

“I just hope someone snaps her out of it one day” Jazz said.

I plonked myself down in my chair once again and happily answered the phone.

“Hello, H from Hosts of Japan speaking, how can I help?” I smiled.

I was expecting a female voice, so I must have been quite shocked to hear a male since Mieke and Jazz were by my side instantly.

“Good afternoon miss H, my name is Aleck, I was wondering if I could speak with you about hiring one of your hosts for an important visit next month” the male voice explained.

“Oh, right, well erm, problem is…”

“I understand you are fully booked up, miss H, I have seen your website availability, however this may seem a silly request, if I may” he ever so polite, and spoke so softly, he even soundly slightly American.

“Ask away sir, no request here is ever silly” I grinned, but it sunk when he asked.

I must have been silent for quite a while as Aleck kept asking if I was alright.

“I…I’m fine, I do believe though, I will need some time to think and talk over with my colleagues about this request, is there a number I can call you on?” I took a number and hung up the phone.

“What? What was it?” Mieke asked.

“I think we need Miho here too…I’ve just been asked to host a two week holiday for the Prince of Liberty…”

[usashirtstoday]

I Go Camping To Burn Off The Crazy Campfire T Shirt

I want to give a I Go Camping To Burn Off The Crazy Campfire T Shirt shout out to the honest company back in february I ordered their prenatal vitamins I didn’t receive them and eventually looked through my emails they had been sent to my old house address assuming I forgot to update my address on file I figured it was my loss after awhile I recalled having a delivery to my current address here it is nearly may and I finally called the honest company it turns out that I had added my current address but somehow it was not set as default customer service made the address change for me and is sending me the prenatals I ordered back in february anytime I have called for help with an order the honest company has gone above and beyond to help me and btw the organic breathe easy rub has been a miracle for my baby’s chest congestion. Want to join opening night of springsteen on broadway this week bid on front row center orchestra seats plus invitation to the after party in support of the kristen ann carr fund here ️ the auction closes tomorrow afternoon. Why is victoria’s secret paying for tests on animals again animals used for testing live in small or overcrowded cages with little to do but wait and wait in panic and constant fear of hearing the cage door open because when it does they are forced to ingest or inhale cosmetics ingredients or substances are rubbed onto a raw patch of skin on their back or dripped into their sensitive eyes then they are made to suffer without painkillers for up to two weeks while these cruel tests are conducted and they are eventually killed please stop contributing to animal cruelty thank you

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So this is going to be a bit long but bear with me I had what I believe to be a pointless and incredibly frustrating experience with the assistant manager jamie at your auburn hills great lakes crossing location today I have been coming here for three years I frequent your orlando san marcos and new jersey locations as well at least once a year when we stop we usually spend 5 to 10 thousand dollars on your products the system is simple I go in park in a corner and bring bins to my corner sort them bag them move them to the front register and repeat today I brought a personal duffel bag as it holds about 8 to 12 of your bags worth of stuff I get told that i’m not allowed to use it because it’s policy not a big deal at all I say okay i’ll do that for the rest rather than rebag all of this i’ll just go up in line and pay for it and it can sit behind the counter seems pretty reasonable to me nope I got obstructed suggested that I might be stealing something and not allowed to pass stating if I don’t want to follow the system I can leave he then takes my entire duffel dumps it onto the floor and then rebags it into victoria secret bags then moves it to the front counter so it can be rang in I thought this was a little odd but hey he was doing all the work rebagging it so whatever i’m like dude i’m going to be spending about 8k today all I want to do is come in spend some money get out without any drama what’s the problem whoevers in charge should be thrilled with a sale like this we’re spending 8k keep in mind that I told him that I would do what he wanted and it wasnt’ a big deal and the response was to the effect of stop being lippy and just listen I told him what do you want from me I just agreed with you and said I would use your bags i’m not being lippy at all I know this because I said okay dude not a problem i’ll use your bags his response was maybe if you get to buy it i’m like what are you suggesting that an 8 000 order is something you guys don’t want he’s like yeah if you buy it i’m like dude we are spending 8k today why would I bag up a bunch of stuff and spend 2 3 hours picking our your fabulous product to not buy it anyway so I had 4 credit cards one card had 2 000 one had 3500 one had 2000 and one had 1000 because I am buying for multiple people I had 4 different cards all in my name I wanted one receipt for each card not a big deal to me right wrong again he cited some policy and said if the order is more than 750 items that they aren’t allowed to ring in under 750 items on any one receipt id like to point out that that amount is higher than your employees said they could take as a cash payment I asked him to please show me that I would understand better if I could just read it he was willing to do so he brought out the policy book and to my surprise what it actually said was words to the afffect of cash payments cannot be split up or over 750 items I forget the second half my immediate reply was so what’s the big deal im using credit not cash he snatched the policy book away from me at that point and said you know what you can just listen to me or I don’t have to let you buy anything it’s up to my discretion I then called your orlando outlet and your new jersey outlet and talked to the store managers and cited your policy I was given I asked them to confirm if that was accurate and both said if it was a policy it was news to them I then asked if they would let me buy my order using 4 cards and 4 receipts the woman at orlando said oh my gosh yes we do that every single day I asked if I went to her store if I would have any trouble with this in the future and was told no then she said you can always come down here if you’re in the area and i’ll be happy to take your order after that phone call I tried again here’s the video of that attempt I said listen I have 4 credit cards your register girl said you told her she can’t ring up an order under 750 items that’s 3500 if it’s 5 items not all of my cards have that much I have done multiple receipts every time I came here heck I can even supply them to show it he tells me that because I am order so many items that I can’t have less tan 750 items per receipt so I point around to everyone else and ask what about everyone else you aren’t forcing them to spend a minimum of 750 items what about the final charge i’ll have 750 items for two tickets but the leftover isn’t going to be 750 items you’re not going to let me buy them he shrugged his shoulders to say no at this point I haven’t yelled ive been a bit snarky and sarcastic because I know he’s just giving me a hard time two people ring in our order almost every time I am up there and we were there 3 times in the last 6 months spent a bunch each time so at 730 8pm or so we are done shopping assuming that two people could ring us up ended up being a fantasy he forced one employee only to ring us up later on he comes up when its now close to 9pm and says hey you mind if we ring you up on both registers I chuckle and say no I don’t but you do you don’t want to be breaking that 750 rule do you he glared at me and then sent the employee away and walked off after blinking a few times I laugh because after telling me over and over he couldn’t do it he just got caught trying to do what should have been done to begin with a short while later after 9 I find out that everyone is standing uip front except for the one girl and another associate because none of the rest of them are allowed to help her ring us up the only two people left in the store with about 700 more items to be rang in if that’s not enough since it was a holidy all of these employees are apparently being paid overtime to stand around and wait at a bit after 10 all but two girls leave and one girl is waiting to count cash while the other girl sits and keeps ringing stuff in we apologize profusely we expected two employees to ring us up like always and timed our visit to be out around 9 if this had happened instead of having one literally stand there and watch her for 1 hour and 47 minutes after close we would have all been out on time and no overtime or extra hours spent so finally at 10 47 pm our orders are done we thank the lovely girl lauren and jasmine who got stuck staying 2 hours past close because a manager made up some random policy and had to double down when I pointed out he really needed to follow that 750 rule when he was going to toss another girl on the register if this is policy fine it doesn’t seem to be no manager at your other outlets knew what he was talking about the orlando one insisted that the only restrictions are on cash payments and verified I was paying cash or credit it’s a pretty humiliating experience to get hassled trying to buy panties and bras by someone who’s on some type of power trip the only thing I said sideways to him was that I flat out didn’t believe his policy and that credit absolutely is not the same as cash I didnt call him any names scream at him or did anything to disrupt the store beyond what you see in the videos if this is not policy i’d like an apology from that manager in person or over the phone admitting he was mistaken I would hope that the next time I go there I am not hassled but if not I guess there’s always orlando or new jersey who seem to be quite friendly I also want to give recognition to jasmine and lauren lauren is the poor soul who got stuck ringing everything in alone because of the manager’s silly rule and not allowing anyone to help because it would be in violation of the 750 item rule jasmine was the cash counter who had to wait until we were out of the store to count cash even more interesting is that I had a former employee with me helping me buy and she said she never heard of this policy either but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t added since she left she was just as confused because the manager spent over 30 minutes trying to explain and defend this when that time certainly would have been more efficiently spent doing productive things instead of hassling someone who literally sits in a corner and speaks to no one while sorting through your products one bin at a time id love a call back about this or to find out what exactly is going on ive never been hassled like this before and it was a little frustrating and very trying to keep my cool joe rossetti alexandria gunn See Other related products: I Go Camping To Burn Off The Crazy Campfire T Shirt

[iwantthedean]

The Charade; Part One

Summary: Two journalists strike a bargain with Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles to get the article they need, and end up getting more than they bargained for.  Pairings: Misha x OFC, Jensen x OFC Word Count: 1479 Warnings: Language. A/N: Ash’s and my new collab! @d-s-winchester​ 

Masterlist

Boden Emerson rushed onto the elevator just behind her co-worker and friend, Adeline Brooks. She switched her bag to the other shoulder, and let out a deep breath.

“Cutting it a little close, Bo,” Adeline teased.

“Shut it,” Boden smiled. “I woke up late.”

Adeline shrugged as the elevator reached the floor for Exclusive. “Just as well. I didn't feel like getting extra dressed up for this meeting with Kelly.”

“It didn't even cross my mind,” Bo snorted.

The two women made way for their neighboring cubicles, unloading their bags and whatnot. They took the time to catch up on emails before it was time to head to their editor’s office.

Kelly Clarke, editor of Exclusive, looked like she would be the editor of a big time magazine. Think Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada but just slightly less intimidating. So it was no surprise to Bo and Addy that she didn’t smile at them in greeting when they walked into her office.

“Have a seat,” she said, peering over her computer monitor at the two women in front of her. “Girls, I'm concerned. Your articles are still getting great reviews, but they're not the reason people read Exclusive anymore. A plateau in work is not something I like to see among my writers.”

Addy and Bo exchanged a glance, not sure what was coming next. They knew, however, that it was best not speak until they were prompted, and Kelly had said all she needed to say.

“Supernatural is coming up on it’s tenth season -- that's where the entertainment buzz is at. I want you to get in there, be on set, get me something good. Something I can put on the front cover of the magazine.”

Bo ventured to ask a question. “You want to know what a day on set is like?”

“I want the nitty-gritty,” Kelly corrected. “I want to know what's happening in their personal lives, the sacrifices they make for these shows and the conventions they attend. I want to know the things they don't tell anyone else -- that is Exclusive, after all.”

“With all due respect, Kelly, they film on a closed set. We have tried multiple times before to get on for interviews and stuff, and it's always a hard no.”

“I suppose that is your challenge, not mine,” Kelly responded matter-of-factly. “Don't let me down, girls.”

The two younger women took that as their cue to leave. Just outside of Kelly’s office, they exchanged a worried glance; this was going to be no easy feat.

“You want to try e-mailing the PR people for the thousandth time or should I?” Adeline asked as she sat down at her desk.

Boden sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, leaning against the entrance to Adeline’s cubicle. “I’ll give it a shot. They’re just going to say no. I honestly don’t know what Kelly expects us to do. We’ve been trying to get on that set for years.”

“Maybe if we try a different approach?” Addy suggested, “We could always contact the actors’ managers directly and try to set up an interview. That worked for us with The Walking Dead.”

“Yeah, but Reedus and Lincoln’s PR people weren’t such pains in the ass,” Bo pointed out, “but I guess it’s worth a shot. You try Padalecki’s manager and I’ll reach out to Ackles’s.”

Adeline nodded and Boden went back to her cubicle. Adeline was able to find out the contact information for Jared Padalecki’s manager easily and within minutes had the e-mail drafted and sent. Just for good measure she sent a similar e-mail to Misha Collins’s manager as well, hoping that three separate e-mails to each of the stars’ teams would work out in their favor. All that was left to do was wait for a response.

In an attempt to distract themselves from impatiently checking their e-mails for responses Adeline and Boden went about their daily routines and finished up the current articles they were working on. Finishing them well before their deadline, something they were both good at, gave them the afternoon free to figure out alternate solutions to their Supernatural problem if the management teams gave them negative responses like they were anticipating.

“Padalecki’s people got back to me,” Addy said, checking her phone as the pair walked down the street to grab some lunch, “hard no from them. Still waiting to hear from Collins. Anything on Ackles?”

“Nothing yet, but I think we already know the answers we’re going to get,” Bo replied, “I’m starting to feel like sending out these e-mails was pointless.”

“Yeah,” Addy sighed, “me too.”

By the time they had finished their lunch and got back to their respective cubicles both Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins’ management teams had given them answers. Just like the e-mail from Jared’s team the managers had declined their requests. It was starting to feel like the women would need some sort of miracle to get onto that set and get Kelly what she wanted. They may have been two of her best journalists but that didn’t mean she would have any qualms about firing them if they didn’t at least get her something.

“We should just move to Vancouver,” Bo sighed. “At least then we would have the benefit of being closer to the studio lot.”

Adeline’s brow lifted. “I mean, it's not the worst idea you've ever had.”

“I wasn't being serious, Addy. We have work here to do, too. We can't just up and move to another country.”

“Says who? We can do all of our other work from any location. We can come back here if necessary, to check in. We have to do something.”

Boden thought it over and realized there were no strings holding them down. “Should we talk to Kelly first?”

“I think our best bet is to just tell her we’re going,” Adeline replied, “because then she knows we have a plan.”

“Good call!”

When five o’clock rolled around the next day the girls had told Kelly they were going and everything else was in the works. They had managed to secure a two bedroom apartment and the only thing left for them to do was pack up their belongings and make the trip.

Misha Collins had just finished packing the last of his ex-girlfriend’s things into boxes and was preparing to move them out to the hallway for her to pick them up later that night when his cellphone rang. Hoping it wasn’t Charlotte, he sighed and grabbed himself a beer from the fridge before grabbing his phone from the counter to answer it. Once glance at the screen told him it was his friend and co-star, Jensen Ackles, calling and he answered.

“Hey, Jay, what’s up?”

“Lindsey just left.”

Misha stopped in his tracks. “Like went out for a bite to eat or she’s gone?”

“As in Charlotte called her earlier today, told her how great it was to be -- and I quote -- ‘liberated’ from the entire Supernatural fandom and family, and Lindsey took that and ran with it. I know she’s been having trouble for a while, coping and all that, but I never thought she’d actually leave.”

“Hey, I'm sorry, man. Can't help but feel like maybe I'm to blame for this.”

“Not at all,” Jensen assured. “Their loss right?”

“Yeah, right.” Neither man sounded entirely convinced. “Why don't you come by for some beers? I'm moving all of Charlotte’s shit to the hall then I'm down to forget everything.”

“Sounds good to me. Lindsey took all her crap already, so I'll head out in a few.”

Jensen told Misha he’d see him soon and disconnected the call. While he waited for his friend to arrive Misha went through the apartment, room by room, to make sure he hadn't missed any of Charlotte’s things. By the time he'd collected the few things he'd missed and put them in another box, Jensen was knocking on his door.

They settled in with a couple of beers and talked for a while about where they'd gone wrong. Charlotte had found another man to hold her attention, and Lindsey just couldn't take being in the spotlight all the time -- it was too much chaos for her. Both men felt that it all boiled down to something wrong with them; they just weren't enough.

Jensen groaned after a few beers as a new realization hit him. “My lease is up in a couple weeks. Guess I know now why Lindsey didn't want to renew or look for a new place.”

“Just move in here,” Misha suggested. “I've got two rooms anyway, and I'm gonna guess our single asses will be hanging out together a lot more anyway for a while. Might as well save some money and split the rent.”

“Can't complain about saving money,” Jensen shrugged. “Count me in.”

[everettwilkinson]

POLITICO Playbook: Hot in Palm Beach: Marine One lands at PBI

Good Monday morning and welcome to Thanksgiving week. The president is leaving D.C. for Palm Beach tomorrow. Congress is gone. Might we get a quiet week?

HOT QUESTION IN PALM BEACH — PALM BEACH POST: “Trump in Palm Beach: President’s helicopter arrives. Will he use it?” by Christine Stapleton and Mahima Singh: “A huge Air Force transport plane flew over Mar-a-Lago Sunday afternoon before landing at Palm Beach International Airport where it delivered the presidential helicopter.

Story Continued Below

“But the delivery of the helicopter does not mean that President Donald Trump will use it to fly back and forth to Mar-a-Lago, where a new helipad was built on the back lawn of the estate. The helicopter, along with his black armored vehicle, travels with the president in the U.S. and overseas. …

“Locals are anxious to learn how the president will make the two-mile trip between the airport and Mar-a-Lago. The trip from the estate to Trump’s golf club, which is near the airport, also is about two miles. Earlier this year, the president’s motorcade brought traffic to a standstill for hours as an army of local, state and federal law enforcement closed roads near the route along Southern Boulevard.” http://pbpo.st/2zTkuEr

**SUBSCRIBE to Playbook: http://politi.co/2lQswbh

FRONT PAGE, ABOVE THE FOLD of the BOSTON GLOBE: “Why evangelicals are again backing a Republican despite allegations of sexual misconduct,” by Astead Herndon: “None of the nearly 10 pastors reached by phone said the allegations of sexual misconduct changed their views about Moore. Several said the allegations made them more proud to vote for the former judge. …

“‘I don’t know how much these women are getting paid, but I can only believe they’re getting a healthy sum,’ said pastor Earl Wise, a Moore supporter from Millbrook, Ala. Wise said he would support Moore even if the allegations were true and the candidate was proved to have sexually molested teenage girls and women. ‘There ought to be a statute of limitations on this stuff,’ Wise said. ‘How these gals came up with this, I don’t know. They must have had some sweet dreams somewhere down the line. ‘Plus,’ he added, ‘there are some 14-year-olds, who, the way they look, could pass for 20.’” http://bit.ly/2zRCkI9

GOOD CATCH — AP’S KEN THOMAS and CATHERINE LUCEY: “Bush administration alums rising in Trump’s orbit”: “The Bush influence has only grown stronger recently, as Trump nominated Alex Azar to lead the Health and Human Services Department, where he served under the Bush administration, and tapped Jerome ‘Jay’ Powell to be chairman of the Federal Reserve. Powell served in the Treasury Department under President George H.W. Bush. …

“The Bush alums in the administration include Transportation Secretary Elaine Chao, who served as Bush’s labor secretary, and Dina Powell, a deputy national security adviser who oversaw White House personnel and later served in Bush’s State Department under Condoleezza Rice. Even the president’s schedule and day-to-day operations are overseen by a former member of Bush’s inner circle: Joe Hagin, who served as deputy White House chief of staff.” http://bit.ly/2B3yeu6

WAPO’S DAVE WEIGEL in HOLLIS, NEW HAMPSHIRE: “Democrats see backlash over Republicans’ tax bill as a key to winning in the suburbs”: “‘Do you think it’s right to raise taxes on millions of hard-working Americans?’ asked Sen. Maggie Hassan (D-N.H.) at a Friday night Democratic fundraiser. ‘Do you want to risk a $25 billion yearly cut to Medicare to give the wealthiest few a tax cut?’ The crowd of about 600 Democrats bellowed ‘no,’ still shocked by the party’s recent political gains. Coming off Election Day wins from Seattle to Long Island, Democrats are starting to see the shape of a new majority, built on a potential suburban backlash to changes in the tax code.” http://wapo.st/2B4C8mq

JONATHAN MARTIN in LITTLE ROCK on A14 of the NYT: “Celebrating a 25-Year-Old Clinton Win, but Still Stung by a More Recent Defeat”: “It was billed as a celebration of the 25th anniversary of the Clintons’ ascension to the White House, held in some of the same haunts of the Arkansas capital where it all began.

“Yet the election that Bill and Hillary Clinton were most eager to revisit here was not Mr. Clinton’s triumph of a quarter-century ago. It was the one that Mrs. Clinton lost last year — one that the former first couple and many of their supporters have clearly not gotten over. For the first part of a 90-minute conversation with the Clintons on Saturday moderated by James Carville, Mr. and Mrs. Clinton made all manner of references, both direct and indirect, to the man who denied their bid to reclaim the White House, Donald J. Trump.

“However, it was not until Mr. Clinton invoked his wife’s losing campaign — “I’m proud of her for getting caught trying to put people first,” he said — that her admirers rose to their feet in what was an obvious emotional release. … Explaining how she had tried to cope with what she called a ‘very painful’ loss, she said she had taken to mystery novels ‘because the bad guy always got it in the end.’” http://nyti.ms/2zV06CR

TWEETER IN CHIEF — “Donald Trump takes the bait, and LaVar Ball’s Big Baller Brand wins again,” by USA Today’s Sam Amick: “LaVar Ball has done it again. … Never mind the threat of North Korea, the GOP tax reform plan or the accusations of collusion with Russia, the leader of the free world took a moment on Sunday to focus on a man who is nothing short of a marketing genius.

“‘Now that the three basketball players are out of China and saved from years in jail, LaVar Ball, the father of LiAngelo, is unaccepting of what I did for his son and that shoplifting is no big deal,’ Trump tweeted to his 42-million-plus followers about the incident in which three UCLA basketball players were caught shoplifting and later allowed to return home. ‘I should have left them in jail!’ Then about six hours later, Trump tweeted again: ‘Shoplifting is a very big deal in China, as it should be (5-10 years in jail), but not to father LaVar, Should have gotten his son out during my next trip to China instead. China told them why they were released. Very ungrateful!’” Take a bow, LaVar.” https://usat.ly/2zQisVZ

PROBLEMS FOR MERKEL IN GERMANY — POLITICO EU’S MATTHEW KARNITSCHNIG: “Germany was thrust into political disarray late Sunday as talks to form a new government collapsed, raising the prospect of a new election while clouding Angela Merkel’s future as chancellor. Negotiations between Merkel’s conservatives, the liberal Free Democrats (FDP) and Greens ended abruptly just before midnight after FDP leader Christian Lindner said he saw no hope the parties could break a stalemate that had dogged the discussions for days. …

“The failure means Germany is unlikely to have a stable government for months, hobbling Berlin’s ability to make pressing strategic decisions on everything from foreign policy to eurozone reform. With Europe facing a host of serious challenges, including disputes over the rule of law in Poland and Hungary and Brexit, the political instability in the EU’s largest country could hardly have come at a worse moment.” http://politi.co/2iwqM38

****** A message from the Peter G. Peterson Foundation: As Washington debates tax reform, there’s talk of tax cuts that will give trillions of dollars back to American taxpayers. That sounds great. But if these tax cuts aren’t paid for, future generations will be stuck with the bill. Congress, tax reform should grow the economy. Not the debt. www.pgpf.org/tax-reform ******

INSIDE 1600 PENNSYLVANIA AVE — “‘A long winter’: White House aides divided over scope, risks of Russia probe,” by WaPo’s Ashley Parker and Carol D. Leonnig: “Six months into a special counsel’s investigation of Russian interference in the 2016 presidential election, White House aides and others in President Trump’s close orbit are increasingly divided in their assessments of the expanding probe and how worried administration officials and campaign aides should be about their potential legal peril, according to numerous people familiar with the debate. Some in the West Wing avoid the mere mention of Russia or the investigation whenever possible.

“Others take solace in the reassurances of White House lawyer Ty Cobb that special counsel Robert S. Mueller III will be wrapping up the probe soon and the president and those close to him will be exonerated. … [S]ometimes, gallows humor creeps into the West Wing. ‘When the staff gather in the morning at the White House now, they jokingly say: “Good morning. Are you wired?”’ one person close to the administration said.” http://wapo.st/2AWg6S5

— “Special Counsel sends wide-ranging request for documents to Justice Department,” by ABC News’ Mike Levine: “Special Counsel Robert Mueller’s team investigating whether President Donald Trump sought to obstruct a federal inquiry into connections between his presidential campaign and Russian operatives has now directed the Justice Department to turn over a broad array of documents, ABC News has learned. In particular, Mueller’s investigators are keen to obtain emails related to the firing of FBI Director James Comey and the earlier decision of Attorney General Jeff Sessions to recuse himself from the entire matter, according to a source who has not seen the specific request but was told about it. Issued within the past month, the directive marks the special counsel’s first records request to the Justice Department, and it means Mueller is now demanding documents from the department overseeing his investigation.” http://abcn.ws/2hNASPR

JEN HABERKORN and PAUL DEMKO: “Obamacare mandate repeal may not deliver predicted blow”: “Repealing Obamacare’s individual mandate might not be the devastating blow to health insurance markets that supporters of the law fear. Because the tax penalty for not having insurance is far less costly than what many Americans would have to pay for coverage, many have chosen to take the fine. Eliminating it, therefore, might not radically change behavior — or fulfill the dire predictions of spiking premiums and vast increases in uninsured people that economists, health providers and politicians once predicted.” http://politi.co/2zV4eTn

NEW POLICY ALERT — “Trump Administration Tightens Scrutiny of Skilled Worker Visa Applicants,” by WSJ’s Laura Meckler: “The Trump administration is adding hurdles and increasing scrutiny in the employment-visa application process, making it harder for businesses to hire foreign workers, and companies and immigration attorneys are bracing for more changes soon. … The administration is more closely scrutinizing applications for the high-skilled visa program known as H-1B, sending back more than one in four applications between January and August via ‘requests for further evidence,’ according to data from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, known as USCIS, which administers the program. A year earlier, fewer than one in five were sent back.” http://on.wsj.com/2B3aXbH

— “What EPA chief Scott Pruitt promised — and what he’s done,” by Alex Guillen and Emily Holden. http://politi.co/2jGrZZ4 LAST NIGHT ON “KASIE DC” — @KasieDC: “So, what happens when you file a sexual harassment claim on Capitol Hill? Let’s walk through it …” http://bit.ly/2mJSwpB

TRUMP’S MONDAY — THE PRESIDENT is holding a Cabinet meeting, lunching with VP Mike Pence and HUD Secretary Ben Carson. In the afternoon, Trump will meet with Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and U.N. Ambassador Nikki Haley.

THE JUICE …

— FORMER TREASURY SECRETARY JACK LEW is joining the private equity firm Lindsay Goldberg. He will still be a visiting professor at Columbia’s School of International and Public Affairs.

FOR YOUR RADAR — “Zimbabwe’s Mugabe passes deadline to resign; now impeachment,” by AP’s Chris Torchia and Farai Mutsaka in Harare: “Longtime President Robert Mugabe ignored a midday deadline set by the ruling party to step down or face impeachment proceedings, while Zimbabweans stunned by his lack of resignation during a national address vowed more protests to make him leave. “Arrogant Mugabe disregards Zanu PF,” one newspaper headline said. Opposition activists and the influential liberation war veterans association announced more demonstrations to pressure the 93-year-old Mugabe, the world’s oldest head of state, to step down after 37 year in power. … Zimbabweans were astonished that Mugabe, flanked by the military in his national address Sunday night, remained defiant.” http://bit.ly/2z0zNYk

–“Behind Mugabe’s Rapid Fall: A Firing, a Feud and a First Lady,” by NYT’s Norimitsu Onishi: http://nyti.ms/2zRPTH7

CHARLES MANSON IS DEAD — AP’s John Rogers: “In the summer of 1969, a scruffy ex-convict with a magnetic hold on young women sent some of his disciples into the night to carry out a series of gruesome killings in Los Angeles. In so doing, Charles Manson became the leering face of evil on front pages across America and rewrote the history of an era. Manson, the hippie cult leader who died of natural causes Sunday at age 83 after nearly half a century behind bars, orchestrated the slayings of pregnant actress Sharon Tate and six other people, butchered at two homes on successive August nights by intruders who scrawled ‘Pigs’ and ‘Healter Skelter’ (sic) in the victims’ blood.

“The slaughter horrified the world. To many, the collateral damage included the era of peace, love and flower power. The Manson Family killings, along with the bloodshed later that year during a Rolling Stones concert at California’s Altamont Speedway, seemed to expose the violent and drug-riddled underside of the counterculture and sent a shiver of fear through America.” http://bit.ly/2zXGKLl

PHOTO DU JOUR: Former White House communications director Anthony Scaramucci talks during an interview with the Associated Press in Jerusalem on Nov. 20. Scaramucci told the AP that although he has not spoken to Donald Trump in over a month, he talks to the president’s inner circle “regularly” and considers himself a media “surrogate” for the administration. | Ariel Schalit/AP Photo

SUSAN GLASSER: “How Trump Is Driving Democrats and Republicans Together” http://politi.co/2hPlZwy … Transcript of her conversation with Sen. Ben Cardin http://politi.co/2B4ycSX

MARC CAPUTO and MATT DIXON – “Sex scandals wreak havoc on Florida politics: ‘Florida is on fire. And it’s not a controlled burn,’ said one top Democrat”: “The Florida Democratic Party chairman resigned Friday in shame. A Republican state senator faces possible expulsion for sexual harassment. The state Senate’s top Democratic leader abruptly stepped down after admitting an extramarital affair with a lobbyist. Even amid the flood of sexual misconduct revelations that have rocked state capitals across the country, the nation’s biggest swing state has lived up to its reputation for political drama and excess over the past month, with major implications for next year’s contested U.S. Senate and gubernatorial elections — and the next presidential race. …

“The biggest shock to the system unfolded Friday when the state’s Democratic Party chair, Stephen Bittel, quit after POLITICO Florida reported numerous women and men complained he created an uncomfortable work environment for young women … Bittel’s resignation was a major blow to U.S. Sen. Bill Nelson — Florida’s only statewide elected Democrat – who spent political capital on his friend and longtime donor to become chair of the state party in a bitterly contested race this year.” http://politi.co/2AewiC7 … Subscribe to Florida Playbook http://politi.co/2jHSZY1

IN ISRAEL — JERUSALEM POST: “POLICE QUESTION NETANYAHU FOR THE SIXTH TIME IN CORRUPTION PROBE: Israeli Ambassador Ron Dermer questioned in Netanyahu probe … Police arrive at Netanyahu’s residence to question him in corruption probe,” by Udi Shaham: “The questioning focused mainly on Case 1000, the ‘gifts affair,’ in which it is suspected that the prime minister received expensive gifts from various businessmen.” http://bit.ly/2mKHfoX!

****** A message from the Peter G. Peterson Foundation: Washington is debating tax reform. There’s talk of substantial tax cuts that will give trillions of dollars back to American taxpayers. That sounds great. But if these tax cuts aren’t paid for, future generations will be stuck with the bill. Congress is right to pursue tax reform – the code is outdated, complex and unfair. Tax reform done right should be permanent, because businesses and individuals need certainty to plan and invest. It should be based on realistic, independent projections and assumptions about the effect on our economy and our fiscal outlook. And it should enjoy bipartisan support, so that it’s durable over time. Lawmakers should use the valuable opportunity presented by tax reform both to improve our fiscal outlook and strengthen the economy at the same time. Learn more about fiscally responsible tax reform at www.pgpf.org/tax-reform. ******

BEYOND THE BELTWAY — “As Silicon Valley Gets ‘Crazy,’ Midwest Beckons Tech Investors,” by NYT’s Steve Lohr: “The rationale for investing in the Midwest combines cost and opportunity. A top-flight software engineer who is paid $100,000 a year in the Midwest might well command $200,000 or more in the Bay Area. The Midwest, the optimists say, also has ample tech talent, with excellent engineers coming out of major state and private universities in the region. But they also point to technology shifts. As technology transforms nontech industries like health care, agriculture, transportation, finance and manufacturing, the Midwest investors argue that being close to customers will be more important than being close to the wellspring of technology.” http://nyti.ms/2B4PTSb

MEDIAWATCH — DAVID GURA to MSNBC — per Talking Biz News’ Chris Roush: “Gura has joined MSNBC as an anchor and correspondent. Gura had been with Bloomberg TV since March 2015. He has been the anchor of ‘Bloomberg Markets: The Trump Economy’ on Bloomberg Television and also co-anchor of ‘Bloomberg Surveillance’ on Bloomberg Radio. … Previously, he was a senior reporter for, and the principal back-up host of, ‘Marketplace.’” http://bit.ly/2ziYyn5

SPOTTED: Sen. Orrin Hatch (R-Utah) walking into Dulles Sunday, carrying his own bags.

WEEKEND WEDDING — NATALIE BUCHANAN, House Majority Leader Kevin McCarthy’s member services director, married SEAN JOYCE, former chief of staff to Rep. Patrick McHenry (R-N.C.) Saturday night in Charleston, South Carolina. The ceremony was at St. Mary’s Catholic Church and the reception was at Governor Thomas Bennett House. SPOTTED: House Majority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.), Mike and Katie Shields, Rob Simms, Barrett Karr, James Min, Freddy Barnes, Tim Berry, Todd and Jessica Johnson, Brian O. and Natasha Walsh, Tim and Holly Pataki and Tori Emerson Barnes.

BIRTHDAY OF THE DAY: Judy Woodruff, anchor and managing editor of PBS “NewsHour”. How she got her start in journalism: “After college, I worked in Atlanta as a TV newsroom secretary; that combined with a short stint as weekend ‘weather girl’ (like Cinderella, I cleaned film and answered phones during the week; did weather on Sunday nights) led to my first reporting job: covering the Georgia state legislature and Atlanta politics for another station: an opening created after the only woman reporter left to have a baby.” Read her Playbook Plus Q&A: http://politi.co/2zi9Ojf

BIRTHDAYS: former Vice President Joe Biden is 75 … former U.N. Amb. John Bolton is 69 … Charlie Cook … Politico’s Sushant Sagar, Dan Goldberg, Ian Kullgren, Jeff Amster and Margaret Rives … Philip Ewing, national security editor at NPR … Jay Lefkowitz … Don Baker is 85 … Ryan Struyk, a data reporter and mobile producer for CNN (h/t Mariam Khan) … Carlton Owen, president and CEO of the U.S. Endowment for Forestry & Communities … Cecelia Prewett, SVP at SKDKnickerbocker, former FTC and Hill staffer (h/t Jon Haber) … Matt Miller … Jayne Sandman, principal at BrandLinkDC … Bloomberg TV’s Julie Hyman … Parita Shah, “a huge 90s hip hop fan” (h/ts Ben Chang and Adrienne Elrod) … Shawn Hils, a DNC research alum … Devorah Adler … Aaron Harison, president of the Washington Free Beacon … Rep. Jim McGovern (D-Mass.) is 58 … Rep. Ruben Gallego (D-Ariz.) is 38 … Boyd Bailey … Robert Edmonson, House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi’s chief of staff, is 33. He celebrated over the weekend with brunch at The Bird with friends (h/t Mitchell Rivard) …

… Brian Reisinger, senior adviser to Scott Walker, alum of Ron Johnson and Lamar Alexander, and “always a Sauk County gentleman” is 33 (h/t William Allison) … Cassie Gerhardstein of McConnell’s leadership shop (h/t Steve Bradford) … Emily Matthews, a digital strategist at Saguaro Strategies (h/t Andy Barr) … HFA alum Courtney Corbisiero … John Darnton … Linda Bowman … Vincent Coppola … Elizabeth O’Connor … Ciara Torres-Spelliscy … Toni Nissi … Jenevieve Newman Beavers … Nikki Buffa, Obama Interior alum now counsel at Latham & Watkins … Alex Navarro-McKay, a managing director at BerlinRosen … Alexis Weiss … Al Baldasaro … Ciara Torres-Spelliscy … Beth Foster (h/t Teresa Vilmain)

****** A message from the Peter G. Peterson Foundation: Washington is debating tax reform. There’s talk of substantial tax cuts that will give trillions of dollars back to American taxpayers. That sounds great. But if these tax cuts aren’t paid for, future generations will be stuck with the bill. Congress is right to pursue tax reform – the code is outdated, complex and unfair. Tax reform done right should be permanent, because businesses and individuals need certainty to plan and invest. It should be based on realistic, independent projections and assumptions about the effect on our economy and our fiscal outlook. And it should enjoy bipartisan support, so that it’s durable over time. Lawmakers should use the valuable opportunity presented by tax reform both to improve our fiscal outlook and strengthen the economy at the same time. Learn more about fiscally responsible tax reform at www.pgpf.org/tax-reform. ******

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[anavoliselenu]

Stepping stone chapter 13

I awoke early the next morning. Justin was still sleeping when I slipped quietly out of the penthouse. I left him a note, stating that I had some errands to run and that I’d come back to his place later. Now, here I was back in my own apartment, feeling a twinge of guilt for sneaking out while he slept.

 I had a ton of questions to ask him in regards to what happened last night, and I was sure that he had things of his own to say. However, I knew that if I started a conversation with him about it first thing in the morning, my plans to research the murder of Justin’s father at the library would most likely be delayed for another day.

 If Mr. Roberts hadn’t kept me so long yesterday, I may have gotten something accomplished.

 Between the long workday and the party last night, I was exhausted. My body screamed for caffeine. I slipped on a pair of sneakers and grabbed my laptop bag. It was just past nine. The library opened at ten o’clock and I wanted to be among the first to walk through the doors. If I hurried, I would have just enough time to stop by La Biga for a quick cappuccino before hand.

 Allyson came stumbling out of her bedroom just as I was getting ready to leave. She looked like a wreck.

 “Hey, sleepy head,” I joked.

 “Morning,” she mumbled.

 “Late night?”

 “You can say that again,” she whined and made her way into the kitchen. “I was out with some people from work. One drink led to another…you know how it goes. You should have come. It was a fun time.”

 “I had the gala last night,” I reminded her.

 “That’s right. I forgot,” she said as she reached up into the cupboard for a mug. “Coffee?”

 “No thanks. I was actually just leaving. I’m going to stop at La Biga while I’m out.”

 “Don’t leave yet. I want to hear about last night.”

 “As much as I’d love to fill you in, I don’t have time right now. How does later sound?” I suggested. “I don’t have plans for this evening, so we can have our girls night if you’re free. Murphy’s maybe? We haven’t been there in a while.”

 “Not Murphy’s. I’ll do whatever else you want as long as there’s no alcohol involved.”

 “Okay. I’ll think of something else,” I laughed. “I’ll text you later and let you know what time I’ll be home.”

 I left Allyson to nurse her hangover and headed out the door. Once outside, I braced against the cold wind that bit at my cheeks, I crossed Bleecker Street and made my way towards the Redline that would take me to La Biga on West 57th. It was a short ride, but anticipation over enjoying one of my favorite indulgences had my mouth watering. I hadn’t been to my favorite coffee shop since I stopped working at Wally’s and I was long overdue for one of Angelo’s famous cappuccinos.

 As usual, I smelled the coffee shop before I stepped through the doors, a delicious aroma of fresh ground coffee beans and pastries. The familiar chime of bells that rang overhead as I entered made me smile.

 I need to make sure to come here more often.

 I looked around and saw that they were just as busy as I expected them to be. However, I was surprised to see Maria working behind the espresso bar and not Angelo.

 “Morning, Maria.”

 “Ah, buongiorno! There’s my favorite girl! Cappuccino?” she assumed.

 “You got it. Did Angelo take the day off?” I inquired.

 “No, no. He isn’t feeling well. Stomach upsets,” she told me. She frowned and shook her head.

 “Oh, I hope he feels better!”

 She leaned over the counter and lowered her voice.

 “He’s nothing but a big faker I think!” she said, her Italian accent becoming more prevalent as she whispered. “Our daughter and her husband are working here today. He just didn’t want to hear anymore of their ideas about modernizing the café. Che palle! Left me alone to deal with it instead!”

 I laughed at her accusation of conspiracy while she began to prepare my drink.

 “I’m not touching that one!” I joked.

 “Just like I said to you before. Men. Can’t live without them, but we still need them. How is your handsome gentleman caller by the way?”

 I grinned at her old fashioned term.

 “He’s good,” I admitted, knowing that this would spark an entirely new line of conversation about the day when Justin stalked me to La Biga.

 “Aha! I knew it!”

 “Yeah, you might have called that one right,” I agreed with a smile.

 Topping off the cappuccino with a good solid dollop of foam, she handed it to me and shook her head. She looked thoughtful for a minute before motioning to one of her employees. A cute girl of about sixteen made her way over.

 “Giovanna, take over. I’ll be right back,” she told the girl. Maria stepped out from behind the counter and turned to me. “Come this way, honey. We’ll talk.”

 Here we go.

 I was in a hurry, but inwardly I was smiling. I couldn’t wait to hear Maria’s new words of wisdom. We went over to a vacant table and sat down. She watched me strangely for a moment, but didn’t speak.

 “What is it Maria?” I finally asked. I took the first sip of my favorite drink, licked the foam from the top of my lip, and waited patiently for her to answer.

 “Selena, you have been coming here for quite a few years now. Yes?”

 “It’s been at least four,” I told her, not sure where she was headed with this.

 “I’ve seen you happy, I’ve seen you sad. Sometimes you look lost. When your gentleman came to see you here a few weeks ago, I saw a fire in you that I have never seen before.”

 I recalled how angry I had been that day. It was no wonder why she thought that.

 “Justin can bring out the worst in me sometimes. Sorry about that,” I said sheepishly.

 “No, no! You misunderstand me, honey. When I say fire, I don’t mean anger. Your fire was passion. A good thing. But your generation, women, they tend to practice…” she trailed off. “What’s the word I’m looking for? For a proud woman? Thinks she is equal a man?”

 “A feminist?” I suggested.

 “Yes, yes. Your generation of women takes pride in being a feminist. That’s okay in the working world, but privately it’s another matter. Men need certain things, Selena. Don’t be so busy perfecting your feminist side that you don’t pay attention to the heart.”

 I wasn’t sure what she was trying to say exactly. If I wasn’t mistaken, it seemed like Maria was telling me to roll over for Justin. Considering the exchanges that I witnessed between her and Angelo in the past, I found it hard to believe. Maria was nothing short of a spitfire.

 “Maria, you are as independent as they come. And me, I am who I am. I’m not going to change that for Justin or any man.”

 “You misunderstand again, honey. What you see is not always as it seems. Yes, I am bossy. But I give in when Angelo needs it. That’s why I’ve never had to count husbands,” she joked before turning serious again. “Angelo has always been the one for me, but we have had our challenges. Love is about give and take. There’s only so much room for stubbornness. Our fate was always to be together, but it did not come without compromise.”

 “I don’t believe in fate,” I told her truthfully. “I’m the only one who can control my destiny.”

 She looked at me sadly.

 “Bella ragazza. Your destiny, your fate. You do not decide it. It has already been written in the stars.”

     ****

     I rolled onto my side, the light from the bedroom windows disturbing my slumber. It took me a minute to register how bright it was. I sat up and looked at the clock on the dresser. It read nine-thirty in the morning.

 I never sleep that late.

 I glanced over to Selena’s side of the bed. She wasn’t there, but there was a note propped up on her pillow.

     Went out to run a few errands. Be back this afternoon.

 Selena

     Dammit! Figures. The one time that I sleep in past six…

 I reached over to the nightstand for my phone, but my grasp came up empty. The phone wasn’t there.

 That’s when I remembered that I misplaced it the night before. In all the chaos, neither Justine nor I remembered to see if a member of the wait staff had accidentally grabbed it.

 I jumped out of bed, irritated over my predicament, and went straight to my office to power on the computer. While I waited for the desktop to load, I dialed Selena’s cell from the landline phone in my office.

 She needs to get her ass back here where it belongs.

 It went straight to voicemail.

 I slammed down the receiver and a feeling of unease began to set in. I didn’t want her out on her own and unprotected until I found out what Hamilton was up to.

 Once the computer was up and running, I opened my inbox clicked on the button to compose a new message to my lead computer technician.

     TO: Gavin Alden

 CC: Hale Fulton

 FROM: Justin Stone

 SUBJECT: Immediate Response Needed!

   Gavin,

   My phone went missing last night. I need you to put a trace on its location. I also need you to trace the location of Selena Cole’s phone. I’ll be on standby waiting for your response.

   Justin Stone

 CEO, Stone Enterprise

     I flagged the email as urgent and hit send, praying that he would see it on a Saturday morning. Gavin was a Monday through Friday, hourly employee. However, he worked from home and usually came through in a pinch. I hoped that today was one of those days.

 Thankfully, it was. My email pinged back with a response no less than three minutes later.

     TO: Justin Stone

 CC: Hale Fulton

 FROM: Gavin Alden

 SUBJECT: Re: Immediate Response Needed!

   Mr. Stone,

   I was able to locate both phones on E 42nd Street near Madison. The exact location is odd. The phones appear to be between two buildings. Please advise on how you would like me to proceed.

   Gavin

     Both phones? Why would both phones be in the same location?

 At first I thought that perhaps Selena found it before she left the charity gala and just forgot to tell me. But then another possibility came to mind, one that I didn’t want to consider because it made me doubt her trustworthiness.

 No. She would not have taken it deliberately. Or would she have?

     TO: Gavin Alden

 CC: Hale Fulton

 FROM: Justin Stone

 SUBJECT: Re: Immediate Response Needed!

   Are you sure that both phones are in the same location?

   Justin Stone

 CEO, Stone Enterprise

     I thought about everything that happened last night, and then about her absence this morning.

 What errands did she have to run?

 She never once mentioned that she had anything to do today.

     TO: Justin Stone

 CC: Hale Fulton

 FROM: Gavin Alden

 SUBJECT: Re: Immediate Response Needed!

   Mr. Stone,

   I’m positive. They are about five feet apart to be exact, in between a bank and a deli, but not inside either establishment. If you suspect that they may be stolen, I suggest that you have me deactivate them.

   Gavin

     I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that just yet, as I may need to track the location again if I couldn’t find Selena.

     TO: Gavin Alden

 CC: Hale Fulton

 FROM: Justin Stone

 SUBJECT: Re: Immediate Response Needed!

   Not yet. I’ll be in touch.

   Justin Stone

 CEO, Stone Enterprise

     I hit send and immediately dialed Hale. The uneasy feeling that I was experiencing began to intensify. Call it gut instinct, but I knew that something wasn’t right.

 “Hale, did you see the email thread?” I asked after he picked up.

 “I did, sir.”

 “Are you in the area?”

 “Yes, Mr. Stone. I’m about a block away from the penthouse.”

 “Good. Bring the car around. We need to take a ride over to E 42nd and Madison.”

 “I understand, sir.”

 I was sure that he did too. Something was up, and I was about to find out.

   Cappuccino in hand, I exited Grand Central Terminal and made my way up East 42nd. Much to my dismay, I ran into a large tourist group that was taking a walking tour of New York City. They were moving at a snails pace as their guide pointed out landmarks just up ahead.

 “Our next stop is The Stephen A. Schwartzman Building, part of the New York City Library system, which is the second largest in the country,” the guide told them.

 Yeah, yeah. That’s where I’m trying to go. Of all the dumb luck.

 Rather than fight the crowd, I cut through an alleyway that would take me over to 41st. That quickly proved to be a bad idea, as I had to pinch my nose to block out the smell of urine that was permeating the air.

 I should have just hailed a cab in Greenwich instead of detouring to La Biga.

 As I neared the end of the smelly passageway, a man stepped in front of me and blocked my path. His clothes were filthy and he had stringy blond hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.

 Ugh. This is what I get for trying to take a short cut.

 I tried to side step him, assuming that he was a homeless person looking for a handout. Normally, I would have sympathized with his situation, but this man made me uneasy for some reason.

 “Hello, Selena,” he said, catching me by surprise. I looked at him again. He looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.

 “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

 “No, I don’t believe that you do. But I know very much about you,” he leered.

 Okay, now I’m getting creeped out.

 I nervously looked around.

 “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else. If you’ll excuse me, I have someplace that I need to be,” I told him. I tried to sound polite so as not to upset this could be lunatic.

 “Oh, no sweet thing. Not yet. Not until you see what I need to show you.”

 Casually, I reached down into my purse and felt around for the can of pepper spray that I always had on me. My hand closed around the metal can.

 “I’m sorry, but –.” I stopped short when he grabbed hold of my arm and squeezed tight. “Let go of me!”

 As I tried to shrug out of his grasp, the can of pepper spray went clinging to the ground.

 “Pepper spray? I was warned that you might try something stupid,” he sneered. He squeezed my arm tighter and thrust a cell phone in my face. “Look at this.”

 I focused my vision on the cell phone screen that he held in front of me. It was a black and white video of some sort.

 “Please, mister. I don’t know what that is. You –.”

 “Yes you do! Don’t play stupid! Look again!”

 His eyes were wild, manic almost. I looked around in search of other people that may have entered the alleyway short cut.

 This is New York! Why isn’t anyone around?

 There wasn’t another soul in sight. And now, having lost the protection of the pepper spray, I thought it best to just do as he asked. I could only hope that he would go away after I complied. Moving as slowly as possible, I took the phone from his hands and began to watch.

 The video was of a crowd of people. Some appeared to be dancing while others mingled and sipped on drinks.

 “It looks like a nightclub,” I said.

 “Is that what you freaks call it?” he said and laughed loudly.

 “What do you mean? I think…” I trailed off as I caught a glimpse of something quite out of the ordinary for a nightclub. There was a woman bent over on a stage. And a man.

 This is footage from the night I was at Club O.

 I looked more closely at the cell phone in my hand. I instantly recognized it as Justin’s phone, the one that had gone missing the night before.

 “Now do you see, sweetheart?”

 I snapped my head up to look at him.

 “Who are you? Where did you get his?”

 He ripped the cell phone from my hands and shoved it into his pocket. Before I could react, he grabbed hold of me and pushed me against the brick surface of the building. He pressed his face to my ear. His breath was hot and stale on my neck. I had to fight the urge to gag.

 “Does that sick bastard make you call him your Master?” he whispered as he squeezed one of my breasts. I wanted to throw up.

 “Get off me!” I struggled, but felt the walls closing in. My pulse began to thud in my ears. This situation was all too familiar. I had to get away. “Someone help me!”

 He slapped a clammy hand over my mouth.

 “Shut up you stupid bitch!”

 I scratched and clawed, but all I could think of was the people. Somebody had to see what was going on.

 The tour group.

 I screamed, but it was muffled against his damp hand.

 “Hey!” I heard somebody yell from my right.

 Oh, thank god.

 I strained my head towards the voice, my savior from the crazed lunatic, but what I saw made the ground feel like it was falling out from under me.

 No. Not him. Not him of all people.

 “Fuck you, Trevor. Just help me get her into the car.”

 This can’t be happening.

 I struggled to free myself, straining with every muscle in my body, but was overpowered by the two men.

 “Help!” I tried to scream again, but my cry earned me a harsh blow to the side of the head.

 “Selena, shut up!” Trevor hissed.

 The world was spinning. My arms burned from the struggle, but I didn’t really feel it. It was as if I was numb as they dragged me, kicking and screaming, down the alley. There was a car that had been backed into the entrance that I had come through, effectively blocking any passerby from seeing what was happening. The car trunk was open and waiting.

 No. Please. No.

 My head smashed against the rear bumper as I was tossed into the trunk. My vision blurred and I felt something warm slide down my face.

 Blood.

 I tried to scream again, but was silenced when a strip of duct tape was slapped over my mouth. Zip ties were fashioned around my wrists, before Trevor reached down into the trunk and removed my purse that was still slung around my neck.

 “No funny business,” he warned.

 By taking my purse, he had also taken my phone. Any hopes that I may have had about calling for help vanished.

 What is happening? Why is this happening?

 The trunk was slammed shut and everything went dark. The car engine roared to life. I could hear the two men talking in the car. It was somewhat muffled, but not enough that I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

 “Is this asshole going to pay up with out question?” I heard Trevor ask. “I don’t want cops involved in this.”

 “Oh, he’ll pay. No question about it. Stone goes to great lengths to protect his privacy. This will be no different. We struck gold when I found that video on his phone,” he laughed in the most sinister of ways. “And here you were just hoping for a bank account number. Trust me. This is better. He won’t want that released.”

 “I don’t see why we had to nab Selena, though. It complicates things.”

 “We need her. She’s our insurance policy in case he tries to resist.”

 “Charlie, are you sure?”

 “Don’t be a fucking chicken shit. I was married to his sister for seven years. I know him well. He’ll pay. The sucker always pays.”

 Charlie? Justine’s ex-husband? Bank account numbers?

 The car turned left and I was slammed roughly against one side of the trunk.

 Think, Cole. Think.

 I tried to remember the make and model of the car that they put me into, but I was coming up blank. I listened to the sounds outside the car, hoping it may help me to determine where we were. All I could make out was the sound of the tires against the pavement and the occasional horn blaring. At the very least, the sound of car horns told me that we were still in the city.

 “Make a right up here. We need to get on I-78 towards Newport,” I heard Trevor say.

 “The warehouse is safe?”

 “Yeah. My father’s company never uses that one anymore.”

 “Good. Nobody will notice her stink for a while then,” Charlie said.

 My stink?

 Then the realization dawned on me. I knew exactly what Charlie meant by my stink.

 Things like this don’t happen to real people! I have to get out of here.

 Feeling like I was living in a terrible B rated movie, I began to beat at the lid of the truck. I kicked against it and beat with my fists until my knuckles were raw and burning.

 “What do you mean her stink?” Trevor questioned, voicing the same thought that I had. I stopped thrashing to listen, hoping beyond hope that my assumption was wrong.

 “Her corpse, numb nuts. After a while, I don’t think it will smell very pretty,” Charlie laughed.

 My heart was racing out of my chest as I struggled to find more air than I even needed. Panic consumed me, burying itself into the recesses of my brain until I couldn’t think.

 “What the fuck are you talking about? We aren’t going to kill her!” Trevor exclaimed.

 “We have to. She wasn’t supposed to see you, remember? Our cover is blown.”

 “Fuck, man. She only saw me because you couldn’t stick to the game plan. I told you that she was a fighter. But who cares if she saw me anyway. I’ll just find an alibi like I always do.”

 “No. You don’t know Stone. He’ll crack any alibi you come up with. We do this my way. The girl has to go.”

 “This is total bullshit, Charlie. I didn’t sign up for murder. I was just looking for some extra cash.”

 “Yeah, must suck to be cut off from your trust fund,” Charlie sarcastically commented.

 “Screw the trust fund and screw you. I’m out. Pull over.”

 “Hell no. You ain’t backing out now pretty boy. I need your connections to pull this off.”

 “I said pull over,” Trevor asserted.

 Yes, pull over!

 I listened, waiting to see how Charlie would respond. My heart was racing a mile a minute as I silently pleaded that Trevor would somehow talk him out of his plan. It was ironic, really; that the man I hated more than anyone could potentially save me from a madman.

 The car jerked suddenly to the right, then to the left. I could hear the two men yelling, but I couldn’t make out their words over the squealing of the car tires.

 There was a loud crunch, and the sound of crumpling metal reverberated through the car. I had barely registered the fact that we crashed, when my body was slammed forward and then back. I was like a ping-pong ball, suspended in the air at times.

 The car is rolling.

 My arms flailed as I tried to reach for something to hang onto. My head hit the lid of the trunk. My vision blurred, then all went black.

     ****

     “You need to make a left at the next intersection,” Gavin said to Hale and me through the Porsche Cayenne’s PCM mobile communication system. “The GPS signal ends on 4th Avenue near 29th Street.”

 “Traffic is backed up. It looks like an accident up ahead,” I observed. I glanced at Hale. He was craning his neck in an attempt to see around the cars that were lined up in front of us. The only things that we could see were brake lights and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles.

 Based on the location that Gavin had originally given me, Hale and I tracked Selena’s phone into an alleyway. She wasn’t there, but we did find the remnants of a recently spilled cappuccino from La Biga. Once I saw that, I went on high alert. I immediately knew that something was very wrong. Since that moment, we had been on the line with Gavin, who was updating us on the movements of her phone.

 “You’re only about a thousand feet away from the signal of both phones,” Gavin informed us.

 On impulse, I reached for the handle of the passenger door.

 “Fuck this,” I said and got out of the car. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Call it instinct, but for some reason I was driven to walk on ahead to see what the hold up was.

 “Sir, wait,” Hale interjected as he scrambled out from the drivers seat to follow me.

 “I’m going to see what’s going on,” I called out over my shoulder. “Something isn’t sitting right with me, Hale. Stay with the car.”

 Rather than do as I instructed, Hale followed me up the street. I didn’t insist that he stay back because I could see the worry that was written on his face. He was just as concerned as I was.

 As I got closer to the accident, I could see that a car was flipped up onto its side. It was a tan Chevy, and it didn’t look good. Blood was splattered all over the inside of the windshield, obstructing any view of who might be inside. There was a man standing with his back to me near the wreck. A police officer appeared to be questioning him. As I approached, I realized the mans voice sounded familiar. I took a closer look at him. Instantly, the pit in my stomach plummeted.

 It was Charlie.

 This can’t be a coincidence.

 “That son of a bitch,” I sneered.

 “Mr. Stone, we shouldn’t assume anything just yet,” Hale warned, but I wasn’t really hearing him.

 The air seemed to buzz as my pulse pounded in my ears. Without thinking, I sprinted to close the distance between Charlie and me. When I reached him, I spun him around. His shirtfront was saturated with blood, and I couldn’t tell if it was his or someone else’s. There were a few sizable shards of glass embedded in his forehead, gruesomely distorting his left eyebrow. His eyes were glazed as he focused on me. When he realized that I was standing before him, he looked horrified.

 I gripped his shirtfront, not caring how injured he was. My gut was telling me that he knew where Selena was.

 “Where is she you fucking worm?” I hissed through gritted teeth.

 “Sir, please!” yelled the police officer. I ignored him and tightened my hold on Charlie’s shirt.

 “Justin, I – I didn’t. I don’t – I don’t know,” Charlie sputtered. I reared back a fist.

 “Don’t lie to me! I tracked her phone to this location. Now where is she?”

 “Sir, let go of him now!” the police officer insisted as he tried to separate me from Charlie. “This man is injured and he needs medical attention.”

 “Mr. Stone,” Hale said from beside me as he put his hand firmly on my shoulder.

 “He knows where she is!” I growled and tried to shrug off Hale’s hand. Rage boiled hot and fierce, as I wanted nothing more that to slam my fist into Charlie’s sniveling face.

 “Justin, please. You have to come with me now,” Hale insisted. His use of my first name gave me reason to pause. Hale never called me by my first name.

 I loosened my grip on Charlie, only to see his expression change to one of panic as he focused on something behind me. I released him completely and turned around to see what he was looking at. The fire department was near the back of the smashed vehicle, attempting to pry open the trunk. I could see that there was someone inside. I looked at Hale. He no longer looked worried, but afraid.

 I walked towards the car, feeling as if everything were moving in slow motion. As the lid of the trunk opened inch by inch, I could see what looked like a mass of chestnut brown curls.

 No. It can’t be her. It can’t be her.

 I repeated the chat over and over again as I continued to put one foot in front of the other.

 When the fire department finally got the lid completely open, it was as if time momentarily stood still. Selena, my beautiful angel, lay lifeless in the trunk. Blood covered one side of her face, matting her hair to her forehead. Zip ties were around her wrists, slicing through her tender skin.

 “Angel,” I whispered. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded breathless and full of fear. Grief crushed through my heart. I couldn’t feel anything other than overwhelming devastation.

 No. Please, no.

 All at once, everything seemed to speed up, catapulting me into a frenzy of people rushing around and shouting orders.

 “We need a medic over here!” I heard somebody yell.

 I found myself by Selena’s side, trying to smooth her hair away to find the source of the blood, only to be pushed away by emergency medical technicians.

 “Please step aside, sir,” one of the EMT’s said to me.

 I watched as they fastened her limp body to a long spine board. They cut the ties at her wrists and began to move her towards the ambulance. I felt helpless in the surreal turn of events.

 A cold numbness spread through my veins.

 I did this. This is my fault. I should have protected her.

 Memories flooded through me. Selena’s expressive eyes and breathtaking smile. Her laughter that could brighten even the bleakest of moments. Her response to my touch. The memories choked me until I thought I couldn’t breathe.

 “Mr. Stone,” Hale said quietly. “We should leave to go to the hospital now. It’s going to take us a while to get through the traffic.”

 I looked at him, noticing how stricken he appeared. It felt as if we were living in a different reality.

 I struggled to find stability and shook my head to clear it. Seeing Selena so pale and broken had gutted me, but I would be of no use to her this way. I needed to find strength. I had to think rationally and find some measure of control within the chaos.

 “No. I can’t leave her. I’m going to ride in the ambulance with her. Follow me to the hospital.”

 “Yes, sir,” he responded with a nod.

 “And call Allyson Ramsey on the way. She needs to know about this. You can get her contact info from Laura,” I added as I move to climb into the back of the ambulance.

 As soon as I was in, the doors slammed shut. The sound of sirens could be heard from overhead. I looked down at Selena, so colorless and still, and I had to fight off the panic that was still threatening to overtake me.

 She’s a fighter. She’ll be okay.

 She had to be. Because now that she was in my life, I knew that I could never survive without her.

a