#and today went ‘JONATHAN? MY FRIEND? MY FRIEND JONATHAN EMAILED ME?’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

homosexuhauls · 3 years

Text

15 JUNE, 2021 by Chimamanda Ngozi-Adichie

IT IS OBSCENE: A TRUE REFLECTION IN THREE PARTS

PART ONE

When you are a public figure, people will write and say false things about you. It comes with the territory. Many of those things you brush aside. Many you ignore. The people close to you advise you that silence is best. And it often is. Sometimes, though, silence makes a lie begin to take on the shimmer of truth.

In this age of social media, where a story travels the world in minutes, silence sometimes means that other people can hijack your story and soon, their false version becomes the defining story about you.

Falsehood flies, and the Truth comes limping after it, as Jonathan Swift wrote.

Take the case of a young woman who attended my Lagos writing workshop some years ago; she stood out because she was bright and interested in feminism.

After the workshop, I welcomed her into my life. I very rarely do this, because my past experiences with young Nigerians left me wary of people who are calculating and insincere and want to use me only as an opportunity. But she was a Bright Young Nigerian Feminist and I thought that was worth making an exception.

She spent time in my Lagos home. We had long conversations. I was support-giver, counsellor, comforter.

Then I gave an interview in March 2017 in which I said that a trans woman is a trans woman, (the larger point of which was to say that we should be able to acknowledge difference while being fully inclusive, that in fact the whole premise of inclusiveness is difference.)

I was told she went on social media and insulted me.

This woman knows me enough to know that I fully support the rights of trans people and all marginalized people. That I have always been fiercely supportive of difference, in general. And that I am a person who reads and thinks and forms my opinions in a carefully considered way.

Of course she could very well have had concerns with the interview. That is fair enough. But I had a personal relationship with her. She could have emailed or called or texted me. Instead she went on social media to put on a public performance.

I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it. But I mostly held myself responsible. My spirit had been slightly stalled, from the beginning, by her. My first sense of unease with her came when she posted a photo taken in my house, at a time when I did not want any photos of my personal life on social media. I asked that she take it down. The second case of unease was her publicizing something I had told her in confidence about another member of the workshop. The most upsetting was when she, without telling me, used my name to apply for an American visa. Above all else was my lingering suspicion that she was a person who chose as friends only those from whom she could benefit. But she was a Bright Young Nigerian Feminist and I allowed that sentiment to over-ride my unease.

After she publicly insulted me, it was clear to me that this kind of noxious person had no business in my life, ever again.

A few months later, she sent this affected, self-regarding email which I ignored.

Friday September 15 2017 at 4.35 AM

Dearest Chimamanda,

Happy birthday. I mean this with all my heart, even though I know I have fallen (removed myself?) from your grace. It would be impossible for me to stop loving you; long before you gave me the possibility of being your friend you were the embodiment of my deepest hopes, and that will never change.

I think of you often, still – stating the obvious. I grieve the loss of our friendship; it is a complicated sadness. I’m sorry that I caused you pain, or to feel like you can no longer trust me. There’s so much that I wish could be said.

I pray this birthday is the happiest one yet. I wish you rest and quiet and abiding stability, and of course more of the kind of success that means the most to you.

I hope mothering X is everything you hoped and prayed for and more.

Have a wonderful day today.

Love always.

About a year later, she sent this email, which I also ignored.

Thursday November 29 2018 at 8.42 AM

Dear Chimamanda,

I realise this is long overdue and vastly insufficient, but I’m really sorry. I’ve spent so much time going back and forth in my head and my email drafts; wondering whether to write you, how to write you, what to say, all kinds of things. But in the end, this is the thing I realise I need to say.

I’m sorry I disappointed and hurt you by saying things publicly that were sharply critical, unkind and even disrespectful, especially in light of all the backlash and criticism you experience from people who don’t know you. I could have acted with more consideration towards you. I should have, especially given the privilege of intimacy that you had offered me. There are many reasons why I chose to behave the way I did, but none of them is an excuse. And I clearly realise now, after many, many months of needless sadness and angst and hurt and actual confusion, that I did not treat you as a friend would—certainly not as someone would to whom you had offered unprecedented access to yourself and your life.

You’ve meant the world to me since I was barely a teenager. It’s been very hard navigating the emotional fallout of the past several months, knowing you were displeased with me but truly not quite understanding why, then deciding I didn’t care, then realising that would never be true. I’ve always cared. But I was too mixed up about the situation to be able to make sense of it, or properly see past my own justifications. I’m sorry it took me so long to grasp how I let you down.

I realise that I don’t have room to ask anything of you, but I would be grateful for a chance to say this in person. Still, even if I never get that, I really hope you believe me.

Congratulations on restarting the workshop, and on all the other amazing successes of the past several months. I think of you often; it would be impossible not to. You look so happy in your pictures. I really hope you are well.

All my love,

I hoped never to hear from her again. But she has recently gone on social media to write about how she “refused to kiss my ring,” as if I demanded some kind of obeisance from her. She also suggests that there is some dark, shadowy ‘more’ to tell that she won’t tell, with an undertone of “if only you knew the whole story.”

It is a manipulative way of lying. By suggesting there is ‘more’ when you know very well that there isn’t, you do sufficient reputational damage while also being able to plead deniability. Innuendo without fact is immoral.

No, there isn’t more to the story. It is a simple story – you got close to a famous person, you publicly insulted the famous person to aggrandize yourself, the famous person cut you off, you sent emails and texts that were ignored, and you then decided to go on social media to peddle falsehoods. It is obscene to tell the world that you refused to kiss a ring when in fact there isn’t any ring at all.

I cannot make much of the hostility of strangers who do not know me – fame taints our view of the humanity of famous people. But the truth is that the famous person remains irretrievably human. Fame does not inoculate the famous person from disappointment and depression, fame does not make you any less angered or hurt by the duplicitous nature of people. To be famous is to be assumed to have power, which is true, but in the analysis of fame, people often ignore the vulnerability that comes with fame, and they are unable to see how others who have nothing to lose can lie and connive in order to take advantage of that fame, while not giving a single thought to the feelings and humanity of the famous person.

And when you personally know a famous person, when you have experienced their humanity, when you have benefited from their kindness, and yet you are unable to extend to them the basic grace and respect that even a casual acquaintanceship deserves, then it says something fundamental about you.

And in a deluded way, you will convince yourself that your hypocritical, self-regarding, compassion-free behavior is in fact principled feminism. It isn’t. You will wrap your mediocre malice in the false gauziness of ideological purity. But it’s still malice. You will tell yourself that being able to parrot the latest American Feminist orthodoxy justifies your hacking at the spirit of a person who had shown you only kindness. You can call your opportunism by any name, but it doesn’t make it any less of the ugly opportunism that it is.

PART TWO

When I first read this person’s work, which was their application to my writing workshop, I thought the sentences were well-done. I accepted this person. At the workshop, I thought they could have been more respectful of the other participants, perhaps not kept typing dismissively as others’ stories were discussed, with an air of being among people below their level. After the workshop, I decided to select the best stories, edit them, pay the writers a fee, and publish them in an e-magazine. The first story I chose was this person’s. I wrote a glowing introduction, which the story truly deserved.

They sent this email.

Fri, Aug 7, 2015, 8:20 AM

Thank you so much for that introduction. It means so much to me and I’m going to keep reading it to get through the rest of my stay at Syracuse. I sent it to my mother and she got nervous about the piece because you said ‘it disturbs’, said she’s not sure how she’s going to feel when she reads it. But she’s also one of those ‘let’s leave the past in the past’ people. My sister approved, which meant a lot because our childhoods were each other’s.

All that to say, I’m so grateful you gave me the space to write the short version of this piece, the encouragement to write the longer piece, and now, a platform for it. I definitely have plans to write more about Aba.

Thank you, with all my heart.

PS- I wanted to sign off gratefully + gracefully in Igbo but I said let me not fall my own hand 🙂

About a year later, they sent another email to let me know that their novel would be published.

Wed, Jun 8, 2016, 8:20 AM

Greetings!

I hope all’s been well with you this past year. Belated congratulations on the baby’s arrival, I hope she’s being a delight (I’m sure she is), and on the Johns Hopkins honors.

I was thinking about how this time last year, I’d just received the email from you about Farafina and I wanted to reach out with a quick update. I’ve just accepted an offer for the novel I excerpted as my application and it feels like the workshop was a catalyst for the events that’ve led me here. So, thank you, for the workshop and your words and the Olisa TV series and listening to me babble on about my story at the hotel. I deeply appreciate all of it and you.

All my best,

Before the novel was published, I spoke of it to some people, to help it get attention. I had not been able to finish reading it. I found the writing beautiful, but the story false-hearted and burdened by bathos. When I spoke of the novel, however, it was the former sentiment that I expressed, never the latter.

After I gave the March 2017 interview in which I said that a trans woman is a trans woman, I was told that this person had insulted me on social media, calling me, among other things, a murderer. I was deeply upset, because while I did not really know them personally, I felt they knew what I stood for and that I fully supported the rights of trans people, and that I do not wish anybody dead.

Still, I took no action. I ignored the public insult.

When this person’s publishers sent me an early copy of their novel, I was surprised to see that my name was included in their cover biography. I had never seen that done in a book before. I didn’t like that I had not been asked for permission to use my name, but most of all I thought – why would a person who thinks I’m a murderer want my name so prominently displayed in their biography?

Then I learned that, because my name was in the cover biography, a journalist had called them my “protegee” and they then threw a Twitter tantrum about it, calling it clickbait, viciously disavowing having received any help from me.

I knew this person had called me a murderer, I knew they were actively campaigning to “cancel” me and tweeting about how I should no longer be invited to speak at events. But this I felt I could not ignore.

I sent an email to my representative:

From: Chimamanda Adichie

Date: Wed, Feb 14, 2018 at 2:06 PM

I’m writing about X

She attended my Lagos workshop two years ago and I selected hers as one of a few pieces I published after the workshop.

Apparently I was referred to as her ‘mentor’ and/or she was referred to as my ‘protege,’ in some articles, which led to her tweeting about it. Her tweets were forwarded to me by friends. In them, she reacted quite viscerally to my being called her ‘mentor’ and her being my ‘protege.’ To be fair, she is not technically my ‘protege,’ and it is perfectly fine that she feels this way, but her ungracious tone and the ugliness of the energy spent on her tweets surprised me.

I recently received her book and noticed that my name was included in her official book bio. I was stunned. Surely if she is so strongly averse to my being considered a person who has been significant in her career, (which is my understanding of the loose use of protege/mentor) then it is unseemly to make the choice to include my name in her bio. I found it unusual, as I don’t think I’ve seen it done before in a book bio, but I also now find it unacceptably cynical.

It is only reasonable for a person who sees my name as it is used in her bio — ‘her work has been selected and edited by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’ — to assume some sort of mentor/protege relationship.

To publicly disavow this with a tone bordering on hostility and at the same time so baldly use my name to sell her book is utterly unacceptable to me.

I’d like you to please reach out to her publishers and ask that my name be removed from her official book bio. I refuse to be used in this way.

After contacting her publishers, my representative wrote:

They have asked whether your preference would be to remove the Acknowledgment to you in the back of the book also, in future reprints.

I replied:

I don’t think that is my decision to take, and so will not answer either way, although it would be ideal if she herself made the decision to do so.

On the subject of how to go about it, I was absolutely determined not to be used by this person, but I was also sensitive to the costs the publisher might incur, as this was not in any way the publisher’s fault. Instead of pulping the already printed copies, I asked that the jackets be stripped and rebound. To my representative I wrote:

I’m completely determined that I not be used in this opportunistic and hypocritical way. But I want to make sure to proceed reasonably.

I was assured that my name would be removed and I moved on.

But from time to time, I would be informed of yet another social media post in which this person had attacked me.

This person has created a space in which social media followers have – and this I find unforgiveable – trivialized my parents’ death, claiming that the sudden and devastating loss of my parents within months of each other during this pandemic, was ‘punishment’ for my ‘transphobia.’

This person has asked followers to pick up machetes and attack me.

This person began a narrative that I had sabotaged their career, a narrative that has been picked up and repeated by others.

The normal response would be to ignore it all, because this person is seeking attention and publicity to benefit themselves. Claiming that I have sabotaged their career is a lie and this person knows that it is a lie. But if something is repeated often enough, in this age in which people do not need proof or verification to run with a story, especially a story that has outrage potential, then it can easily begin to seem true.

My addressing this lie will indeed get this person some attention – may they bask in it.

Here is the truth: I was very supportive of this writer. I didn’t have to be. I wasn’t asked to be. I supported this writer because I believe we need a diverse range of African stories.

Sabotaging a young writer’s career is just not my style; I would get no benefit or satisfaction from it. Asking that my name be removed from your biography is not sabotaging your career. It is about protecting my boundaries of what I consider acceptable in civil human behavior.

You publicly call me a murderer AND still feel entitled to benefit from my name?

You use my name (without my permission) to sell your book AND then throw an ugly tantrum when someone makes a reference to it?

What kind of monstrous entitlement, what kind of perverse self-absorption, what utter lack of self-awareness, what unheeding heartlessness, what frightening immaturity makes a person act this way?

Besides, a person who genuinely believes me to be a murderer cannot possibly want my name on their book cover, unless of course that person is a rank opportunist.

PART THREE

In certain young people today like these two from my writing workshop, I notice what I find increasingly troubling: a cold-blooded grasping, a hunger to take and take and take, but never give; a massive sense of entitlement; an inability to show gratitude; an ease with dishonesty and pretension and selfishness that is couched in the language of self-care; an expectation always to be helped and rewarded no matter whether deserving or not; language that is slick and sleek but with little emotional intelligence; an astonishing level of self-absorption; an unrealistic expectation of puritanism from others; an over-inflated sense of ability, or of talent where there is any at all; an inability to apologize, truly and fully, without justifications; a passionate performance of virtue that is well executed in the public space of Twitter but not in the intimate space of friendship.

I find it obscene.

There are many social-media-savvy people who are choking on sanctimony and lacking in compassion, who can fluidly pontificate on Twitter about kindness but are unable to actually show kindness. People whose social media lives are case studies in emotional aridity. People for whom friendship, and its expectations of loyalty and compassion and support, no longer matter. People who claim to love literature – the messy stories of our humanity – but are also monomaniacally obsessed with whatever is the prevailing ideological orthodoxy. People who demand that you denounce your friends for flimsy reasons in order to remain a member of the chosen puritan class.

People who ask you to ‘educate’ yourself while not having actually read any books themselves, while not being able to intelligently defend their own ideological positions, because by ‘educate,’ they actually mean ‘parrot what I say, flatten all nuance, wish away complexity.’

People who do not recognize that what they call a sophisticated take is really a simplistic mix of abstraction and orthodoxy – sophistication in this case being a showing-off of how au fait they are on the current version of ideological orthodoxy.

People who wield the words ‘violence’ and ‘weaponize’ like tarnished pitchforks. People who depend on obfuscation, who have no compassion for anybody genuinely curious or confused. Ask them a question and you are told that the answer is to repeat a mantra. Ask again for clarity and be accused of violence. (How ironic, speaking of violence, that it is one of these two who encouraged Twitter followers to pick up machetes and attack me.)

And so we have a generation of young people on social media so terrified of having the wrong opinions that they have robbed themselves of the opportunity to think and to learn and to grow.

I have spoken to young people who tell me they are terrified to tweet anything, that they read and re-read their tweets because they fear they will be attacked by their own. The assumption of good faith is dead. What matters is not goodness but the appearance of goodness. We are no longer human beings. We are now angels jostling to out-angel one another. God help us. It is obscene.

#chimamanda ngozi adichie #femimism #nigerian feminism #radfem safe #gender critical #radical feminism #cancel culture #forgot the link oops

209 notes · View notes

puckngrind · 4 years

Text

What’s In A Name: 10 - J. Toews

Chapter 10.

Where we left off: Bekah came to Chicago after the season and told Jon not only that she loved him too but that she took a sabbatical from work.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,485

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Changing.

“Rebekah your brain running on over drive woke me up.” Jon’s groggy voice surprised her.

“What!” Bekah almost yells. It was three in the morning and email from her boss asking her intentions on returning had caused Bekah to run a pro and con list in her head.

“Want to talk about it Baby?” Jon kissed her shoulder feeling the heat from the Arizona sun still radiating off her.

“No go back to bed you have training thing to do tomorrow morning then hiking.” Bekah moves her head back to capture his lips.

“It’s about work isn’t it?” Jon sits up.

“How did you...”. Bekah stammered out.

“Beks, I can count to three. Your sabbatical is three months long. It started mid April and July starts tomorrow. He probably wants to know if his brilliant marketing consultant is coming back or if he has to replace her. Yes?” Jon is now leaning against the head board looking down at Bekah.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m thinking about. I swear you read my email or mind.” Bekah bites the inside of her cheek and sits up to lay her head on her boyfriend’s tan chest from the summer of jet setting.

“And you are torn? You aren’t going to hurt my feelings by saying yes, Babe.” Jon’s hand glides up and down her spine.

“Yes.” She breathes out.

“So let’s talk about it. Money is off the table. It shouldn’t be a determining factor because well, you haven’t gotten paid all summer and it hasn’t been an issue. So my first question, do you miss your job?” Jon feels Bekah tense under his touch. “Honestly.”

“No, I miss lunch with Rin but not my actual job.” Bekah realizes the last time she saw Brynn was when Jon surprised her in April by doing a joint birthday party. He rented out the entire movie theater and ran old movies from when the two were born. His parents and brother flew down from Winnipeg. The big surprise was that he even found a way to get Bekah’s family, Derek and Brynn to Chicago without her knowing. She couldn’t believe her eyes when they walked in. How he managed to pull it off she was still unsure of.

“Do you miss Columbus?” Jon braced himself this time for her answer knowing the city captured his girlfriend’s heart in a way no other place had.

“Not as much as I thought I would honestly but then again we’ve been moving around so much it is hard to miss a single place. Maybe when the season started...”

“You could go home whenever you wanted Beks. Long roadies, sick of me, whatever... you running my foundation would give you that freedom to make as many trips as you wanted.”

“Okay. I don’t hate that.” Bekah breathes in Jon’s smell and runs her hand down his abdomen.

“Last question, for now... if you went home would you miss me?” Jon bites his lip because saying that as calmly as he did took every ounce of media training he’s ever had. The silence was killing him. In the two and a half months since he picked up Bekah and she declared her love and sabbatical he realized he didn’t want to go back to the way life was without her by his side. He would never ask her to leave her life behind but he desperately wanted to start a life with her in Chicago.

“Yes Jon. I’d miss you.” Bekah whispered and he felt a tear on his chest.

“Beks, why are you crying?” He lifts her face up to see.

“Because I know the answer is I should quit my job. Let go of my lease and fully be with you.” She breathes out.

“Okay... so why the tears?” Jon smiles at her.

“Mixed emotions honestly. Happy tears about committing to this life with you but sad tears about leaving home behind.” Bekah sniffles.

“Sweetheart, I get that completely. When I left home it was hard as hell but I did it to be where I am today. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t worried you leave me and going home.”

“Tae!” Bekah sits completely up and looks at him. “Seriously!”

“Well we are being honest here, right? I know you love me but it’s hard to leave home.” He feels the sting of a tear in his eyes and blinks them away.

“And you were what 15 when you did and I’m 30. Makes me seem ridiculous!” Bekah runs her thumb over his cheek. “I told him I would let him know by the end of the week. Now let’s try to sleep since your crazy ass wants to hike at lightning pace on your own damn holiday! Don’t you know your nation’s birthday is meant for hanging out on the lakes and day drinking?” Bekah laughs.

“You are dating the wrong Canadian if that’s how you want to spend the 1st Babe.” Jon laughs.

“Oh, I’m definitely dating the right one...” Bekah swings her leg up and over his body and captures his lips.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Jon pulls her in as the conversation comes to a halt.

Hiking with Jon got easier not because he slowed down but he was now aware he needed to take more breaks and take in the views as they climbed. By mid week, Jon was gone for almost the whole day checking in with his training team. He kissed the top of her head as he left and made her promise not to do anything irrational while he was gone. By lunch Bekah decided to FaceTime Brynn.

“Your tan is amazing and I don’t exactly see any lines there Bekah. Plus I don’t recognize this top.” Brynn jokes taking in the off the shoulder top Jon bought her while they were in Manitoba and sun kissed skin from a summer of beaches and lakes and now Sedona.

“He asked me what my plans were.” Bekah sips the iced coffee she finally mastered while her and Jon were in the Bahamas in May.

“Please tell me you told that hot ass man of yours you love him more than you love Columbus.” Brynn takes in Bekah’s face which scrunches up at her comment. “Oh my! Rebekah Pierce! Are you serious?”

“Rin, it’s not that simple.” Bekah replies.

“Let me guess, he told you that you could come home whenever you wanted because of his schedule during the season and you told him you would think about it?” Brynn’s feisty attitude noticeable even via FaceTime.

“Did you talk to Jon?” Bekah furrows her brow.

“No, I just know my best friend and if you think I’m going to let you make this horrible decision to leave the best thing that has ever happened to you for me and home, you friend would be delusional.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard him talking to his realtor about a condo on the Gold Coast the other day too.” Bekah recalls walking in on Jon and his look of being caught.

“Oh because his Lincoln Park mansion isn’t enough to start a life with you. Bekah... I’m gonna type out the resignation letter for you. That way you can jump all in on the Jonathan Toews Foundation and all his gardening stuff... plus, well, jump on Jonathan Toews too.” Brynn laughs as Bekah’s face turns red.

“Oh wow Rin.” Bekah rests her head on her fist and sighs. “You should see him with the kids. We did a school tour before we left Chicago. He’s really got a passion for this.” Bekah remembers their tour in May.

“And I’m still not hearing how Columbus is better? And friend, his passion for you is 1,000 times more than that program. I saw the pictures and I see the way he looks at you. There is absolutely no comparison.” Brynn smiles seeing the way her best friend’s face contorts with her truth bomb. The ladies hear the door.

“He’s back. I’ll talk to you later.” Bekah pulls her hand up to wave.

“Write the damn letter Bekah!” Brynn shouts before hanging up.

“How’s Brynn? Convince you to stay with me yet?” Jon’s sweaty lips dip down to kiss Bekah’s forehead.

“I swear you two talk.” Bekah looks up. “Oh, Honey. You are so so sweaty.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna shower, care to join me?” Jon winks at her and holds out his hand. She laughs but takes it.

“I love this shower.” Bekah states as she steps in. The waterfall shower with side jets felt amazing on her body after long hikes.

“Same but only because it’s easier to do this.” Jon pulls her body up and wraps Bekah’s legs around him. The unglazed rock like tile making it easier to pin her body to the wall without slipping. His lips attached to her neck as she moans out. Bekah’s hands running through his wet hair as she pulls up his body and slides down onto his length. Their lips meeting and his tongue asking permission to explore. Bekah gasping when Jon hits her g spot and doesn’t let up. Each climaxing quickly and in unison. Both panting for air as the waterfall splashes over their joined bodies. Jon slowly lowers Bekah down and grabs the shampoo without saying a word. Bekah rests her head on his chest while he massages the shampoo into a lather. He stands her up and grabs the loofah to wash her body peppering sweet kisses as the soap runs off. She returns the favor and giggles as he kisses her chest while he bends over in order for her to reach the crown of his head.

Jon leaves the shower to retrieve the towels wrapping Bekah up and patting herself dry. “So how can I help your decision Beks?” He questions while pulling a tank and some shorts on.

“What?” The earlier conversation not in Bekah’s head.

“About your job and life really. How can I help?” Jon looks down at her while she puts on her clothes.

“Want to just click send for me?” Bekah nods towards the open laptop. “I’ve written the email effectively quitting my position. I just haven’t actually sent it yet.” She runs her fingers through her hair.

“And what’s stopping you?” Jon swallows hard. Not knowing if he wants the answer.

“I mean, I know you can provide for me. I want to be with you and home and you already said I can have the best of both worlds with your job the way it is but Jon...” Bekah’s emotion catches in her throat.

Jon closes the space between them and holds her face in his hands. “But what Beks? What ever it is let’s talk about it.” He felt so close to having the one thing he’s been dreaming about forever.

“But I’ve been able to take care of myself since I was 18. I’ve not needed anyone to take care of me. If I don’t have a job I would NEED you to take care of me.” She closes her eyes in the realization that that was in fact exactly what she was holding on to and and not the whole leaving home aspect.

“So you need an income? Joint bank account? Control of something?” Jon slides his thumbs over her pink cheeks.

“I don’t know.” She was being honest. “I need you though.” Jon envelops her in his arms.

“I need you too Beks and if a joint account or an income from the foundation is what you need we will set it up as soon as we get back to Chicago tomorrow.” Jon kisses her head.

“Can you click send because I cannot?” Bekah whispered.

“Wanna do it together?” Bekah nodded and Jon lead her the desk. She sat on his lap and clicked opened the draft. “Ready?” His hand covered hers and then she clicks without Jon moving his fingers.

“There I did it. Officially an unemployed Chicagoan.” Bekah laughs and Jon joined her while kissing her shoulder.

The next few weeks Bekah packed up her old apartment with Jon. They shipped her clothes and a few items to Chicago and donated everything else. “What are we going to do with my car?” Bekah asks while the two were sitting at dinner with Brynn and Derek.

“We could keep it here for you if you want?” Brynn pipes up eyeing Derek in some silent couple conversation. “That way you have a vehicle when you are home to see your parents or whatever.”

“That actually sounds great.” Bekah eyes Jon who realized she didn’t need an additional car in Chicago but didn’t want to say anything. He simply nodded and smiled seeing how relaxed his girlfriend seemed since quitting. The conversation flowed over the evening. The girls discussing trips to Chicago and home while Derek and Jon talked shop. The next day Jon and Bekah went to see her parents before heading back to Chicago.

Mr. and Mrs. Pierce had lots of questions about their relationship, if they were moving too quickly, and logistics of Jon’s job. Bekah kind of expected them to since she knew her mom was chomping at the bit in Chicago for more answers. Keeping Jon essentially a secret from her family over the last few years was probably a mistake but she knew her mother wouldn’t approve of her lack of commitment especially to a man in the spotlight like Jon. By the end of dinner she felt Jon answered the questions well and her parents were interested in getting to know him. It was progress and she was thankful.

Bekah experienced her first Blackhawks conversation and enjoyed watching Jon in his element with his fans. Several even recognized her and asked for selfies which threw her for a loop but she obliged. August and September Jon was in training mode split between Winnipeg and Chicago. After the season ended the way it did, Jon was determined 2018-2019 would be the season. Bekah settled into a routine with his foundation and started getting to know some of Jon’s teammates and their significant others. She thought she would be overwhelmed but the way Jon was introducing her to his life made her more comfortable by the week.

Alyssa Saad and Bekah immediately hit it off. Jon was intentional with them being the first official introductions. Alyssa met Bekah in Columbus while Brandon played for the Blue Jackets. Jon and Bekah had the newly married couple over for dinner before training camp. As they sat down in the dining room Bekah’s eyebrows knit together. “What’s that look for Beks?” Jon questions.

“We never eat in here.” Bekah looks around.

“What do you mean?” Jon smirks.

“We have almost always eaten on the roof except for maybe Christmas with your family. Yes. Always on the roof.” Bekah sips her wine and looks at Jon.

“Oh Jonny’s roof set up is nice. I can see why!” Brandon pipes up.

“Yeah, that was on purpose.” Jon looks down at his plate then to Bekah who had a bewildered look on her face.

“Care to explain that, Jonny.” Bekah points her fork at him and circles it around.

“Well, the first time it wasn’t but pretty much every other meal was intentionally up there. To remind you how much you love the city and forgot about the massive ass kitchen that you physically tense up in every time you set foot in it.” Jon’s eyes float towards the kitchen then to their guests who are talking to each other through their looks then Bekah.

“Make me fall in love with the city eh?” Her midwestern accent sounding funny using a word that effortlessly slips off Jon’s tongue.

“Ope... yup.” Jon laughs.

“Hey, she’s not the only midwestern in this room Toews!” Brandon chuckles making everyone laugh. Dinner finished with more laughter and they said their goodbyes to the Saad’s.

“Alyssa told me the girls are planning on wearing their jackets for the home opener. And wants to make sure I don’t dodge out of any pictures.” Bekah wraps her arms around Jon as he finishes cleaning up in the sink.

“Yeah. I heard they were not happy I didn’t introduce you for the Preds series so you could be in the pic then. Makes sense she wants to include you.” Jon flips around and leans on the counter. His hands cup Bekah’s face. “You know you don’t have to do any of team things you don’t want to. None of it will hurt my feelings if you decide to take the less active role.” Jon’s hands wander down her body until his hands are under her ass. Jon hoists her up to sit on the counter behind her then kisses her lips tenderly.

“Thanks. For saying that Tae. I want to do all the things but maybe not all at once. Feels rushed.” Bekah moans as Jon sucks along her collarbone. “But clearly you have been playing a very long game there Mr. Toews. Intentionally eating up on the roof.” Bekah leans back as Jon presses his body between her legs.

“I figured if I alone wasn’t a solid selling point to spend more time here and you clearly feel overwhelmed in here...” Jon leans back to look at Bekah and motions to the kitchen. “Then why not use the selling point for why I bought this place to sell you on Chicago... and me.” Jon pulls Bekah’s body into him causing her to whimper.

“Jon, we make meals in here are we seriously going to have sex on your counter?” Bekah places her hand on his chest.

“I was thinking yes but fine... and our counter, Baby.” Jon pulls Bekah off the counter and steps out of his shorts and briefs while carrying her to the couch. Sitting down she feels his rock hard cock on her clothed core. “Better?” He whispers out while pulling her dress over her head and then pulling his shirt off. “Merde.” He whispers as his fingers make their way to her hips. Bekah slowly rocking her hips along his length.

“What Tae?” She breathes out then props herself up to look at him.

“I should have removed these before I picked you up”’ Jon pulls as the band of her panties.

“Oh! Please hold.” Bekah slinks out from under Jon and stands on the couch with her legs on either side of his frame then wiggles out of her underwear. Jon takes the proximity to her core to his advantage and licks up her folds while she is still standing causing Bekah’s legs to shake. “Tae.” She half cries and half moans out. He looks up with a look of satisfaction.

“What? My favorite dessert was right there I couldn’t help myself. C’mere.” Jon sees the red flashing on his girlfriend’s face as he lowers her onto his length. “Sorry if that startled you.” He whispers in her ear as she starts to rock her hips towards him.

“Felt good... this feels better.” She presses her lips to his and rocks harder causing Jon’s hips to jolt up. They build a rhythm together.

“Come on, My Love.” Jon whispers as he pulls Bekah’s body further into him. She feels her body clinch around Jon’s as he thrusts deep inside of her. Panting she lays her head on his shoulder and his hand comes up to run his fingers through her hair. He moves their bodies so he’s leaning against the back of the couch.

“Can we talk about the home opener and well all the home games?” Bekah whispers after catching her breath.

“If you want or we can go shower and talk in bed.” Jon kisses the top of her head.

“That’s fine I just don’t know if you expect me go to all what 30 some home games.” Bekah stands and reaches out her hands to help Jon up. He stands and pulls her into his now sweaty body.

“41 and no. You don’t have to but you can if you want. Completely up to you.” He dips down and kisses her while scooping her into his arms.

“I can walk Tae.” Bekah kicks her legs.

“Just call this an at home workout... m’kay?” Jon makes his way to the stairs.

“Fine fine. You win. Anything to help the training.” Bekah wraps her arms around him and giggles.

“I mean I have the best girl... so yeah I think I do win. Plus, I’m hoping this season will be the best with you by my side.” Jon kisses Bekah as she feels the heat return to her cheeks. “And I can still make you blush.” Jon kisses her cheek.

“You probably always well, Tae.” Bekah admits.

“I hope so.” His lips brush her rosy cheeks while he carries the love of his life upstairs.

#Jonathan Toews fic #what's in a name fic #WIAN #tazer me 19 #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️#j toews fic #j toews #jonathan toews #happens in the 2018-2019 season

69 notes · View notes

tilltheendwilliwrite · 4 years

Text

Not Another Mummy!

Chapter One

First Chapter will be on Tumblr only until more can be written. Story originated thanks to this thread. One hundred percent @magellan-88 ‘s fault.

Pairing: Stucky | Word Count: 2001

Warnings: Language, mild angst, takes place after CA:TWS

Rick O'Connell was a mummy hunter.

It hadn't always been his job, but he fell into it rather naturally. Well, Evie fell into it by way of raising Imhotep from the dead, damn near dying as the sacrifice to return his dead lover Anck-su-namun to the living, and then banishing him to the underworld.

Twice.

As he was the (often) put upon hothead Yank to her more stoic (stiff upper lip, Chaps) British ways, her colleagues rolled their eyes at her but always out of Rick's line of sight. Still, there was no one better when it came to weird, ancient woo-woo crap.

So when a telegram came from a woman named Pegs, Evie had dropped everything to run to her side.

It didn't matter they were crossing warzones or dragging their seventeen-year-old son with them to occupied France, Evie was going.

That was how Rick O'Connell met Steve Rogers, the Captain America, and his best friend, Bucky Barnes, and learned there was such a thing as kindred spirits.

Because Steven Grant Rogers was a punk with balls the size of Texas and no sense of self-preservation, and while Rick would never comment on the size of Evie's metaphorical brass bangers, the first time Bucky Barnes groaned with all the dramatics of a putout housewife and screamed, "Steven Grant Rogers! What the hell are you doing? Get down from there; you shit little punk!" Rick knew he'd finally met someone with his own Evie.

For Barnes, Rogers was a bit like watching Evie, Alex, and Jonathan all rolled into one, but he at least had Peggy and the Howling Commandos as backup. Rick only had himself - and occasionally Ardeth Bay - to keep his troop of walking disasters from falling into pits, and waking the undead.

In France, the Howlies helped them clear out the spookables in the castle where Pegs had found the books she knew Evie would want to preserve, and the O'Connells and Howling Commandos had parted ways.

Over the next few years, they occasionally crossed paths, and Rick developed a lasting friendship with Bucky Barnes built on saving their idiots and loving them with their whole hearts.

So when the news came that Barnes had died, Rick took it hard. He tried to find Steve, but the war was too hot, and any commiseration of grief would have to wait.

Still, he drowned himself in liquor for a week straight, and Evie, lovely, wonderful Evie, his very own Steve Rogers, poured him repeatedly into bed, where if Rick cried out his grief against her, she never told a soul.

Then, with the news about Steve, Rick was both saddened and a little at peace. At least they were together. They could spend their afterlife as they had their life. Together. Best friends and, if Rick wasn't mistaken, something a little closer to what he had with Evie than either man shared publicly.

Rick didn't mind. He'd seen them together. Love like that, what did gender matter?

Decades later, when the news splashed across the screen that Steve Rogers was alive, Rick again cried for Bucky Barnes. Seventy years apart. How cruel was this world?

Things had changed by then, some for the better, some worse, but when Steve Rogers once again took up his shield and defeated the enemy falling out of the sky, Rick knew the world hadn't lost both heroes. Steve was still there, still fighting, still a symbol of hope to a nation desperately in need of it.

When the giant of a man showed up at Rick's door, after the Battle for New York, Rick was one hundred and ten years old. The look of surprise on Steve's face made Rick chuckle, even as he welcomed him inside and shuffled back to his recliner.

They didn't talk about Bucky, though they did chat about Peggy, and Steve asked after Evie, gone now almost thirty years. A long time to be without his soulmate. They'd lost Jonathon before Evie, surprisingly to something as benign as a heart attack, not the loan sharks Rick always figured would do him in. Alex was eighty-six, but that hadn't stopped him from continuing the family business, hunting down artifacts and saving them and humanity when such was required.

Steve smiled softly before saying, "Thank you. People always know what I do or what I've done. They see me as a hero, but you and Evelyn, Alex and Jonathon? You saved the world a couple of times yourselves, but no one knows."

Rick shrugged. "I didn't do it for the world."

Two years later, though Steve didn't visit much, he kept in touch via email or text, which both surprised and touched Rick. He'd moved back to the States after Evie's death, mostly because he couldn't stand to be where she wasn't and had made a life there with Alex hovering.

Then one night, Steve showed up on his doorstep in the pouring rain, still healing from the bruises and broken ribs.

"He's alive."

Rick didn't need to ask who. Just led Steve into the house where the man fell to his knees beside Rick's chair and cried against his thigh like his soul had broken.

Or maybe it was like the broken bits were slowly forging back together, a beautiful work of Kintsugi, his fractured soul now filling with golden lines of hope.

When Steve left, it was with determination and purpose Rick hadn't seen on him since the forties. It was like he became a man possessed, determined to find what he'd lost, and Rick wished him every bit of luck. If Rick had the chance to get Evie back, there would be no stopping him.

Two more years passed, Rick aged a little more, and finally, a knock came at his door. He was one hundred and fourteen when he saw Bucky again. One hundred and fourteen, when he opened the door to a man haunted by trauma Rick couldn't even fathom.

Still, he opened the door to a grinning Steve, but it was the scowling Barnes he looked at.

"Jesus fuck you got old," Barnes muttered.

"Bucky!" Steve gasped.

Rick laughed so hard he made himself wheeze and waved them in. They joined him in his living room, where he sat, unable to stop smiling. "Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humour."

"Lost some good chunks of memory, but some nice people helped stuff them back in."

The harsh, cold blue eyes weren't the ones he remembered, but Rick could see him in there. He knew the stories, had heard all the reports. Longest living POW. Assassin. Killed JFK. Some said, war hero. Others cried, villain.

Rick knew it was likely a little of both in Barnes' mind.

But Steve still looked at Bucky like he hung the moon, and Bucky occasionally linked his pinky finger through Steve's when he thought Rick wouldn't notice.

"It's nice to see you boys back together." He jerked his chin at Steve. "That one mopes around something fierce."

"We're figuring it out," Steve said, enough force in the sentence to make it clear he was tired of Bucky running. It had taken two years to get the man to stop. "We've worked things out with Stark. Tony's a hothead, he's angry, but he gets Bucky wasn't in control as the soldier."

Rick watched Barnes' flinch. "No, but it was still your hands, right, Buck?"

Blue eyes darted to his and then away. "How the hell are you still alive?"

"Jeez, Buck!" Steve growled.

Rick chuckled, enjoying the role reversal. "Clean living."

They both snorted.

"Clean my ass. I've never seen anyone out drink Dum Dum before. What gives, O'Connell?" Barnes muttered.

Rick glanced at Steve. There was a pink flush to the man's cheeks, a clear indication this was something they'd talked about, but Steve had never asked. Rick had always wondered if it was out of self-preservation. Maybe he thought asking would jinx whatever link Steve had left to his past.

"Alex?" he called out. "Could you come in here?"

"You sure, Dad?"

Steve and Bucky both stiffened and exchanged a look, likely surprised they hadn't known Alex was there.

"I thought you said Alex was still in London?" Steve frowned.

"I lied," Rick smirked. "Yeah, boy. Get your arse in here."

He trotted down the hall and into the living room. "Highya, fellas!"

Bucky and Steve stared, gaping from Alex to Rick and back.

"Shit," Bucky hissed. "They got you too? How come no one knows?"

Alex leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, grin wide, his face as smooth and unwrinkled as it had been at twenty-five, the year he stopped ageing. The bright, burnished blond of his mop of unruly curls, something he'd inherited from Evie and only recently allowed to grow out, fell over his forehead and into his eyes.

"He's not a super-soldier," Rick explained before either man could have kittens. "Seems there was a side effect to the Bracelet of Anubis no one knew about."

Alex spread his arms and gave a cheeky grin. "Looks like I'm immortal."

Rick slapped a hand to his face. "Unageing is not immortal. You can still die, dumbass!"

"That explains him, but what about you?" Steve asked.

"Something to do with the temple." Rick shrugged. "I went through the door with him. Some of the power rubbed off. I age, just… slower."

"Hence the reason you look a spry eighty?" Barnes mumbled.

Rick chuckled, reached up, and pulled the prosthetics from his face. "More like a spry fifty."

"Jesus!" Steve's eyes went wide. "I never even guessed!"

"Alex is good with the face paint. We've had to be. And that's another reason we moved back here. People were starting to remark on the uncanny resemblance of my grandson to my son."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look.

"What?" Rick murmured. "Surely, this isn't too much after witches, aliens, and giant green Hulks?"

"No. No, it's not that," Steve said, quick to reassure them. "It's just…"

"Punk had a second reason for coming today. The Avengers found some woo-woo shit. He wanted you to take a look at it. Stark's fancy AI can tell us lots, but she ain't you."

Rick leaned forward, his back cracking, thankful to be straightened. "I'm no Evie, but squirt over there took after her for smarts. She was always the brain. I was just the muscle."

"Come on, Dad." Alex sauntered in and nudged him. "You learned loads from Mum. Plus, that Warrior for God thing comes in handy on occasion."

"Warrior for God?" Bucky asked.

Rick worked the cuff off his right arm, showing them the tattoo hidden beneath it. "Sorry, fellas. Didn't tell you everything that happened with the Scorpion King."

"Yeah. Like how we used the Book of the Dead to bring Mum back to life," Alex grinned.

"I'm sorry. You did what now?" Steve asked.

Rick laughed and shook his head. "All in good time. Alex, get the whiskey. Let's see what you've got."

Steve rose and returned to the door where he'd left a backpack, while Alex grabbed four glasses and a bottle and dumped an unhealthy amount into each one. The bag clanked when Steve set it on the floor between his feet, and Rick arched a brow.

"This is what we found." He placed the golden box on the coffee table.

Rick gave a low whistle. "Jonathon would have liked the look of that."

"It's really brilliant, isn't it?" Alex mumbled as he crouched to take a closer look. "Look at the way the rubies are inlaid. It's like someone wanted it to appear as if it were dripping blood." He spun it slowly, taking in the images and raised glyphs. "Shite, Dad! Do you know what this is?"

Rick didn't get a chance to answer no as Alex was already running out of the room.

"So, is he as reckless as Evie?" Bucky asked, the first semblance of a smirk since his arrival twitching the man's lips.

"Worse. He's got a nose for treasure like Jonathon and my stubbornness," Rick chuckled. "Then, there's his mouth."

"Which he definitely got from you," Steve chuckled.

Rick didn't dispute it.

Alex returned and dropped a book as thick as Steve's arm on the table, causing it to jump, the chest to skitter across it, and only the reflexes of two super-soldiers to keep everything from going sideways.

"Alex! Calm your enthusiasm!" Rick barked.

"No! No, calming!" The manic gleam in his eyes never boded well for any expedition. "Look!"

He wrenched the book open, sending dust and the scent of musty pages spinning, but it opened on an illustrated page of a female warrior standing over the bodies of the slain.

"Ah, no," Rick groaned. "Not another mummy!"

#the mummy #the avengers #crossover #coming soonish

127 notes · View notes

wolftraps · 4 years

Text

Sign over your soul

Many people (including @sidewalk-and-chalkin most recently) asked about Cass and her meeting with Martin about keeping her job and the whole reveal. Technically this doesn’t include the full reveal, but I already gave you a powerpoint for that. So here. Have Cass and Martin trying to one-up each other while Jon continues being a disaster.

Cass and Martin have never been friends. Which is odd because it’s not like they haven’t known each other, and they’re both generally friendly people. They’ve even been friends with a lot of the same people. And yet, even after years of working in the same place and talking to the same people, they still know each other almost solely by reputation. Reputation which, prior to Martin joining the Archives, had been good. Now… well, now it’s hard to say. The doors are locked, as usual, when Cass arrives for her pseudo-interview, but that’s been the case for months and it hasn’t mattered so far. And as usual, Patrząc meets her out front and leads her around to a side door, propped open with a tape recorder, that she locks back up behind her. As always. “And how are you today, beautiful?” Cass asks. Patrząc meows back, pleased. “That’s great. So, what are the odds I’m about to lose my job?” Another meow; Cass laughs. “I know better than to bet against myself. Do you even have any money?” Patrząc ignores her, just leads her through the familiar building to a room on the ground floor that Cass knows has been turned into Martin’s new office. There they stop. “Right.” Cass takes a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

“Mrrow,” Patrząc says. “It doesn’t matter if I need it or not. It’s polite.” The cat just stares. “Oh hush.” With another breath, Cass knocks, intending to wait, but as soon as she does, Patrząc huffs and rubs up against the door, which swings open with only a soft click. She meows at Martin as she leads Cass in and then stalks right back out as the door closes behind her. “That cat has no sense of decorum,” Cass says fondly, staring after her. “She’s Jon’s cat,” Martin responds, just as fond, “I’ve given up. Anyway. Sit, please. You want any tea?” “Sure. Just a—” “Small spoonful of sugar,” Martin finishes, already setting the mug in front of her. It’s made perfectly. “So, first off, thank you for all the work you’ve been doing. It’s really been a relief to not have all that to worry about.” “No idea what you’re talking about,” Cass lies. “Right. So you don’t want this bonus I was going to give you.” “Well it’s not like you or Sims were going to maintain the network. Also you can blame the cat for letting me in.” “Yeah, I know. I’ve always known. If it was a problem we would’ve talked way before now.” “Right. Good… Should I bother asking how? I know you’re not watching the security footage.” She’d checked. No one had accessed any of it but her since they closed the doors. “You… can. First I’d like to go over some things myself. And, whenever he can be bothered to join us, Jon has some questions too.” “O- oh.” Cass doesn’t actually have anything to hide— not really. She still gets a shiver down her spine, though, and takes a sip of perfect tea to cover it. “Sure.” “Cool. Alright. Where—” Martin flips through the papers on his desk, fumbling a bit. It makes him look like the same nice, approachable man he’d been before. Something about it feels deliberate, though. Cass forces herself into a relaxed posture to match. Finally, Martin finds what he was ‘looking’ for, two sheets down in the stack right in front of him. “Ah! Here we go. So you’ve been working here for six years, right? Two promotions in that time. Do you like working here? I guess that’s a good place to start.” “I mean, yeah. It’s not exactly easy work. IT in a place like this—” “Not exactly easy to do any job in a place like this,” Martin mutters. “Well, yeah, but you never had to explain to Elias that it didn’t matter how high- or low- tech we went, security cameras wouldn’t work in the Archives.” “You didn’t have to hide in your flat for a full day because supernatural worms trapped you there.” “You didn’t have to create an entirely new encryption program to prevent data corruption in all Elias’s emails.” “You didn’t have to try to convince Tim not to murder Jon.” “You didn’t have to write a virus to keep Tim from stalking Sims even more.” “Did you really?” “Yeah.” “Oh… thanks.” Cass waves him off. “Not like it worked.” “Still… You didn’t get chased through secret tunnels and stumble across your old boss’s corpse.” “Right, about that! Who did kill Gertrude? Really?” “Elias.” “Yes! Called it…” She considers for a second. “You didn’t have to crawl through the walls to replace the cables the worms ate through. You think the ECDC cleared out all their gross, wriggly little corpses? They didn’t.” Martin sets down his tea, looking appropriately disgusted. “Oh, ugh. Hmm… You didn’t have to run from a creature that eats people and steals their identities.” “You didn’t have your friend replaced and have to explain to their best friend what happened without fully understanding it yourself.” “I… kind of did, actually.”

Cass pauses, something suddenly becoming clear. “Oh… oh. I’m… surprised Tim was as controlled as he was, then.” “Yeah. He had… other things to distract him. It’s not exactly the same. Sasha’s still around, sort of. She’s just—” Not something he really wants to talk about, clearly. “Right. You’ve never had to spend hours trying to figure out exactly how Sasha fucked up your system after she changed things without warning.” “I have, though,” Martin sighs, clearly exasperated. “The number of forms I’ve had to redo. It’s not… totally her fault. She doesn’t mean to do it; it’s more like a reflex.” “Oh no. Michael Lanson’s entire existence in our system was not some reflex. She did that intentionally, and she made it just right enough that I probably wouldn’t have noticed for months if Hannah hadn’t said something, and just wrong enough I had to redo the whole thing from scratch or it would’ve drove me insane.” “Oh. That. Yeah. She was… trying to do us a favor, sort of? Anyway, you never had to convince Daisy Tonner that you had no clue where Jon might be while he was on the run.” “Sure I did. Not as hard as you did, sure, but I still had to lie to her.” “Wait— You knew where Jon was?” “I mean, not at first. But Melanie King comes in talking about the dead guy being Jurgen Leitner and leaving with boxes from the Archives? That she’s just allowed to carry out? After Sims utterly destroyed Diana in her defense?” “Wait, Jon did what?”

Cass sits bolt upright, potential glee already taking hold. “You don’t know about that? I swear the archives were CCed.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Oh my god. Okay. Hold on,” Cass says, already scrolling through the saved emails on her phone. It takes less than a minute to find and send the right one. “You never wondered why Diana hates Sims so much?” “I mean. A lot of people hate Jon, and I doubt Diana could kill him, so I wasn’t that worried that… Oh my god, Jon. How did I miss this? I… I think I might need to frame this… Wait, if you thought he was with Melanie, why didn’t you say anything to Daisy?” Cass pauses for a second, but, well, given how freaky the Archivist himself is, this probably won’t phase Martin too much. “I didn’t just think. I traced her mobile to place her at Georgie Barker’s and then hacked CCTV feeds until I caught Sims.” “You…” Martin sighs and slumps a bit. “Of course you did. I don’t know why I… That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell Daisy.” Cass shrugs and takes another sip of tea. “Wasn’t my business. Also, that would’ve been tampering and all the bets I’d taken would be void. Anyway. You never had to prove to Daisy Tonner that you’d already destroyed any and all evidence that might implicate Jonathan Sims in any murder, especially that of Peter Lukas, after she joined the Institute.” “You never had to get Jon to talk about his feelings.” “True, but you never had to explain to Elias both what keyloggers are and why we shouldn’t use them.” “Key— Wait, are you trying to tell me there aren’t keyloggers on every computer here?” “Oh, no, there absolutely are. But all collected data is immediately encrypted with a specially created algorithm where the key changes at short, irregular intervals and requires both knowledge-based and biological-based authentication just to generate a decryption key for use. Also our storage space is limited, so most of it can only be kept for a week at most. He probably still knew everything everyone ever typed, but any actual evidence was only ever accessible by me.” It takes Martin a moment to process this. Cass takes another sip of tea. “How did you get away with that?” “Assured him Gertrude would never be able to access any of it. And then every time he came around for any reason I started thinking about all the upgrades I wanted to ask for.” He looks a little shell-shocked. “I… honestly can’t tell how much you know about everything that’s been going on around here.” “Not as much as us, but more than most everyone else, and enough she likely won’t change her mind about staying,” Jonathan Sims says, striding in looking harried with a very self-satisfied cat draped across his shoulders. “I… apologize for my tardiness, Martin, Josie.” Cass freezes. “Jos—” Martin starts to ask. “Ahh,” Sims says, almost sheepishly. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t—” “It’s fine,” Cass says stiffly. “I figured you probably knew. It’s— not actually that big a deal.” “Still. I shouldn’t— I didn’t mean to—” Well, this is awkward. “Martin said you had some questions,” she cuts him off. “Y-yes. I— don’t think that will be necessary.” “Wait- really?” Martin asks incredulously. “You don’t have any questions? You?” “I—” Cass knows many things about most of the people who have worked in the Institute over the past six years, but there’s only so much you can ever actually know about a person from a distance. She’s good at filling in the blanks, but it still somehow surprises her to find that the dreaded Archivist is almost painfully awkward. He looks at her with something like apprehension. “Go ahead,” she tells him and goes to take another sip, only to find her cup empty. Damn. “Miss Walters has a grand total of one close friend outside the Institute, and that only because Hannah Kenway has now left our employ. Her only remaining family is a grandfather who lives in a small town near Barcelona and hasn’t taken any of her calls in the past five years, though she still always tries on Christmas and her mother’s birthday. She has had an interest in the paranormal since… ah.” “Since?” Martin prompts. Cass keeps staring at the empty mug in betrayal. “Since her mother disappeared when she was six, after reading her a children’s book titled “Una Invitada Para el Señor Araña.” “What does— Ohh.” “Guessing you know that one, then,” Cass says. “I— had my own encounter with it,” Sims tells her. “About three years after yours, though it was in English then.” “Yeah. Strange how no one ever believes the kid who says they saw a giant spider eat someone.” “And yet— You aren’t afraid of spiders.” “I am. Sort of. After it happened, I decided I was going to learn everything there was to know about spiders, the supernatural, and Jurgen Letiner. Which eventually brought me here. It’s just… Spiders are fascinating. I have a… healthy respect for them—” “And you’ve always been attracted to dangerous things.” Cass narrows her eyes at him and tries to keep her voice serious when she says, “If you’re about to say the word ‘murderwives,’ I’m gonna have to insist you let me record it.” Sims scowls, something like affront on his face. “I would not.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but now I actually kind of want to hear you say that, Jon,” Martin says. Cass wonders again why they aren’t friends already. “I will not!” “I bet Sasha could get you to say it.” “She could not, and you are not going to call her in here just to try,” Sims asserts, but the mischievous smile Martin has doesn’t seem to agree. “Martin.” “I won’t call her in here just to try,” Martin promises, though Cass notes what he doesn’t say and doubts that will be the end of it. Around Sims, Martin nods at her, just slightly, and she knows that she’ll probably get an audio file from him within the week. Sims looks reproachful. Martin looks entirely unrepentant. “Regardless,” Sims decides to move on, “Miss Walters has found herself rather attached to the Institute and likely hasn’t even considered not staying on. Also I suspect, should we not keep her on, our network may refuse to cooperate with her replacement entirely.” “… You mean that literally, don’t you?” Martin sounds so resigned Cass has to laugh. “That’s my baby,” she says proudly. “Right,” he sighs. “So I guess we’ll just go straight to selling your soul to a fear god, then.” She can’t say that’s what she was expecting to hear, especially with someone like Martin in charge. But, she supposes, they don’t actually know each other that well. Anyway, selling your soul to a fear god sounds dangerous, and she’s intrigued. “Alright,” she asks, “is that a bug or a feature?”

#cass walters #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #reverb ficlet #reverb #My writing #my tma fic #not a sad #patrzac #tma #the reverb in these holy halls

17 notes · View notes

wolfpawn · 5 years

Text

Life is a Game of Risks Chapter 4

Chapter Summary - Alexianna goes home after her coffee with Tom to her brother, who is not overly pleased when he realises something.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Request if you wish to be tagged

'Hey, sorry,' Alexianna ran to her front door to see her brother waiting. 'I had a really weird day.'

'Sounds...interesting.'

'Do you remember Tommy, Emma's older brother, they used to live a few streets over from us.'

'Yeah, gangly guy, he became an actor.'

'He recognised me in a café today and started talking to me, then I forgot my laptop charger because I was trying to get away and well, he emailed me and then insisted I have coffee with him.' She rambled.

'Why does any of this matter?'

'I am so sorry I am late.'

'So, you are apologising for "being late" which, by the way, it is ten to five, so you are still here ten minutes before I said I would be, and you are apologising because you met someone we used to know and actually interacted with them, as adults do. Al, I love you, but you need to remember that you don't have to explain where you are all the time anymore.' She bit her lip. 'Stop that, how have you not chewed through that thing yet? You are giving yourself an uneven bottom lip.' he scolded. Alexianna said nothing in return. 'Come on, open the door, we are going to get soaked if you don't let us in.' he indicated to the sky, which was dark with clouds and threatening to open up on them.

'Right, sorry,' She opened the door and walked in. As soon as he came back from the bedroom, she handed him the key. 'Thanks, Daniel.'

Daniel pulled her to him in a one-handed hug, 'Anytime, I...you smell of cologne.'

'Yeah, Tom gave me a hug.' she explained.

'Okay, I remember him being a hugger.'

'Yeah, he hasn't changed much, his hair is shorter and less young puppy chub on his face, but still the same. Better fashion sense though.' Daniel laughed. 'But still him.'

'You had a crush on him if I remember correctly.'

'No.' she walked off.

'You're as red as a beetroot, you had it bad if I remember.'

'Shut up.'

Daniel laughed, walking after her, wanting to tease her more. 'You were smitten for him, Al.' He looked at the guilty look on her face. 'Oh Jesus, you still are.'

'Just shut up, you liked Emma.' she walked off again.

'I did, and I grew out of it.' he pointed out. 'You haven't.' she said nothing. 'Is that why you went for Jon....'

'Don't mention him.'

'They look something alike.'

'No, they don't.' she pointed at him and her face contorted. 'I mean it Daniel, do not mention him, ever. And that's not...' she swallowed hard.

'It is, isn't it. That is why you actually went with Jonathan, because he looks a little like him, blonde curly hair, taller.'

'He had brown eyes and was far bigger built.'

'That's not much of a difference.' Daniel pointed out. He looked at her sympathetically. 'I'm sorry, Al.'

'I...When I looked up today and saw him, I thought...'

'You thought it was him?'

'No, I knew it wasn't Jon...him.'

'Why can't you even say his name? Does it hurt that much?'

'Hurt, you think I am hurt, that hearing his name upsets me?' She shook her head violently, 'Hurt, no. I don't feel hurt, I feel angry. I feel so angry I want to scream. I want to spit fire and I want to hurt something.' she explained. 'I don't want that in my life, I don't want to be like that. I want to be a happy person, I want to feel good, be positive. He is not here, he will never be here again, I want to stop feeling so angry and I can't if I hear his name, it all just boils up again.'

'But...' Daniel indicated to the other room.

'No, I don't think of him anymore with all of that, I think of me, of what I have to do, what I need to do to do this right. I spent my marriage afraid, I broke, I wasn't even allowed to work, now, now I am free and I am me again and I am going to be the best possible example I can be.' she stated firmly.

Daniel walked over and hugged her close. 'Both of us.'

'I am so lucky to have you, Dan.'

'Damn right.' Her phone went off. 'Who...?' she went over and looked at the message, immediately worrying her bottom lip as she did. 'It's him, isn't it, it's Tommy?'

'He wants to know if I want to meet for coffee again sometime.' she explained.

'Look, Al, I cannot tell you how to live your life, you know that, but I am begging you, think of yourself before you answer that. If you can keep your distance and not get hurt, then go for it. You always got on with the Hiddlestons, him and his sisters, but if you are setting yourself up to get hurt, you have been hurt so much already, don't actively seek more.'

'You're right.' She put down her phone. 'I am going to get something to eat and say nothing until I think more about it.'

'Good, I just don't want you getting hurt.' Daniel watched her nod and leave to cook some food. Part of him wanted to go over and delete Tom's number from her phone, to block it, or to send a text saying to never contact her again, he had watched a few of Tom's films, he had seen his life splayed on the internet unintentionally, especially last year, especially when his niece, a minor with her face displayed to the world. He did not think Alexianna needed that in her life, he knew she didn't. But he remembered when she had been friends with Emma, that was when she was her happiest, he wanted her to grow more into herself again, to the girl before Jonathon Rice. He just hoped Tom Hiddleston did not bring trouble on them again, now that he realised the unintentional destruction Tom had brought before.

#Life is a Game of Risks #Chapter 4 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

7 notes · View notes

carsonlee1994 · 6 years

Text

Sleepy/Cuddly Bobby

It was the end of the week. Another life changed by the Fab Five barging into someones life and turning it upside down. "Well hopefully" Tan thought as he climbed into the car behind Antoni and Jonathan. Tan had found that not everyone who had appeared on their show stuck with their tips and helpful advise after the camera's left and the Fab Five went home. There were people who's lives did change because of their hard work, like Tom from the very first episode they did. He had really turned everything around in his life and still kept in touch with each member of the Fab Five to the present day. But there were others who had gone back to their old ways after they had left. "I wonder if he will be okay." Jonathan said as Karamo and Bobby climbed into the front two seats of the car. "We did all we could, it's up to him to apply himself how." Antoni said as he got comfortable next to the window seat. Jonathan had gotten the short straw and had to take the 'bitch seat' (the whole group had grown accustom to calling the back middle car seat that name) and he had been upset with it at first, until Antoni promised him quality cuddles on the way home. "Your right, I just hope he really turns his life around." Jonathan said wrapping his arm around Antoni's and Tan's. The youngest of the group getting comfortable between them. No longer upset about the middle seat, and excited to cuddle his friends. "We can't hold any guilt if he doesn't. We can only try our hardest, and I know for a fact that we all did our best this week. I'm proud of you guys." Karamo said as he started the car. "Awww, I'm proud of you too boo! Always spreading that positive energy." Jonathan said leaning forward and giving Karamo's cheek a sloopy kiss. Everyone but Bobby laughed as Karamo pulled out into the road. Tan noticed that Bobby didn't join in their conversation like he usually would, but covered his mouth with his hand as he tried to cover a large yawn. Tan frowned. Bobby was always tired by the end of each week more than the others. Bobby had the most physically demanding job out of everyone in the group. He was always re-building peoples homes, and he always got so much done in just a week! Sure he had a team with him, but he would have to design everything, organize, and basically lead the whole crew in how to recreate these peoples homes. While the other guys would work hard, they were able to take breaks and rest during the week of filming. But Bobby worked 7 days a week, and sometimes Tan felt like he didn't get nearly as much credit as the hard working man deserved.

Jonathan had made himself comfortable between his two cuddle buddies, ready to enjoy the ride home and get some well deserved rest before the next week began. This assignment had been a few hours away from Atlanta Georgia. It wasn't the furthest they had traveled for the show, but Jonathan also knew that it was going to be a long ride. Which is the exact reason he had been so upset to be stuck in the 'bitch seat'. Jonathan smirked a Antoni threw his arm over his shoulders. "Hopefully my cuddling skills will make up for being stuck in this seat." He said letting the younger boy lean into his embrace. "I would sit on a seat of hot rocks to get quality cuddle time from you! Do you know how many young girls and gals would kill to be in my position right now?" Jonathan said with a smile as Antoni laughed. Jonathan turned to Tan to see if he had heard the joke, but he had a frown on his face as he looked to the front seat. Jonathan poked his side and he jumped. He smirked knowing Tan was ticklish as he turned to Jonathan with a pout. "What's with the long face?" He asked pouting back to Tan and pinching his cheek. He sighed and nodded to the front seat that Bobby was currently in. Jonathan looked up to examine the man. We had been on the road for about 30 minutes now and he had pulled his laptop out of his bag the second we had started our ride home. He was working on some layout of a home design for next weeks assignment and e-mailing some people. A yawn escaped his mouth and he covered it up with his hand before rubbing his eyes harshly. The man was clearly dead tired, but Bobby was a stubborn hard worker. Jonathan turned back to Tan. He had such a big heart and seemed to be really worried for Bobby. But Tan was a bit of a mother hen, always worried about all of the other members of Fab Five. Jonathan smiled. Thinking of an idea on how he could help Bobby get the rest he needed, and ease Tan's worries for his friend.

Jonathan groaned and rolled himself into a ball, and then turned to push his face into Antoni's shoulder. "What's wrong?" His friend asked, rubbing his hand through Jonathan's long hair to try and comfort him. "I'm feeling a bit sick..." He said, although his words were a bit muffled from Antoni's shoulder, the man was able to understand what the younger had said. "Really? you seemed fine all day today." He said pressing the back of his hand to Jonathan's forehead and cheeks. "What hurts darling?" Tan asked rubbing his hand over Jonathan's back. "Nothing hurts, I just feel dizzy, a little puke-y." Jonathan said. "It might be car sickness, you never rode the middle back seat have you?" Karamo asked from the driver seat. Jonathan shook his head and wrapped his arms around his tummy tightly. Bobby looked away from his laptop and frowned seeing his friend in such distress. "Do you think you will feel better up front?" He asked his friend. Jonathan frowned. "No Bobby, I got the seat fair and square. I don't wanna make you sit here." He said. "I deserve a Oscar for this performance" he thought in the back of his mind as Bobby shook his head. "I would much rather take the 'bitch seat' then have barf all over the car floor." He said patting down Jonathan's hair. "There is a rest stop about 20 minutes from here, you think you can make it that long?" Karamo asked. Yea...I think so. Thank you Bobby." Jonathan said before curling back up into Antoni's side, hiding his smirk in Antoni's shoulder.

Karamo had pulled up to the rest stop and went to get a bottle of water for Jonathan and a few other thinks the guys requested while Bobby and he switched seats. Antoni had stood outside the car to stretch his legs while Bobby climbed in and took the middle seat with a heavy sigh. Tan frowned as Bobby pulled his laptop out again and opened his notebook, taking some notes and still working like there was no tomorrow. "What are you working on?" Tan asked curiously looking over his friends shoulder. "I got the layout for our next assignment and I was looking over the details when I got some e-mails wanting to confirm some meetings this weekend and then my assistant sent me some designs that need to be approved before they are sent to be made..." He said not looking up from his computer as his phone buzzed. Before Bobby could pick it up himself Antoni grabbed it from him and checked to see who was calling. "Awww, it's your hubby." Antoni said remembering Bobby's husband before answering the phone himself. Bobby rolled his eyes with a smirk, knowing his husband would love to talk to Antoni and didn't see the harm as he turned back to his work. Tan only frowned more as he looked over Bobby. He just looked so tired. "There is a difference between self care and vanity." Jonathan's quote ran through his mind and Tan decided he was going to take care of Bobby, even if Bobby didn't want to take care of himself.

Bobby's vision was getting blurry again and he internally groaned while he rubbed at his raw eyes again. He loved his career, he really really did. But at this moment he just simply wanted to drop everything and curl up into a ball and sleep. The inbox notification in his email lit up again and he frowned. It seemed like the work was never going to stop. But its fine. He would be fine, just get as much work done as possible while your driving back. It wasn't like he would be able to do anything else useful while sitting in the car. Then when he gets home to his beautiful husband he can pull him onto the couch and they can fall asleep together watching some cheesy rom-com. He smiles just thinking about it as he types out a reply to his associates. He yawns again and before he can cover his mouth with his hand he feels Antoni stick his finger into his mouth. He jumps back and Antoni laughs at his bewildered face. "If you yawn one more time your going to make me fall asleep." He said pulling the laptop off of Bobby's lap. "Hey, come on no playing around. I need to get this done." Bobby said snatching it back. Tan frowned. "We're just worried about you. You work yourself too hard sometimes." He said running his hand through Bobby's hair. The blonde sighed. "I'm alright. I will have time to rest properly when I get home. But if I'm just going to be sitting in the car I might as well do work." Bobby said leaning into Tans petting motion. Antoni smirked behind Bobby, making eye contact with Tan. "Alright, you do you." Bobby thanked them before focusing back on his work. But Tan kept his hand in his hair, continuing the comforting motion. Jonathan smirked as he and Antoni spoke with their eyes, Jonathan leaned over and turned on some instrumental music. Karamo bit his lip trying to hide his smile so that Bobby wouldn't catch onto their antics.

Antoni cuddled into Bobby's side, wrapping their arms together and sliding his hand into Bobby's. Bobby chucked "It's okay, I didn't need that hand." He said looking at Antoni. "I was supposed to be cuddling Jonathan. Now you will have to do." Bobby rolled his eyes. "Okay, suit yourself." He said continuing his work one handed. Antoni curled up beside him and Bobby had to admit that he didn't hate the way his friend was rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and the way that his other hand was rubbing his arm. Bobby blinked his eyes open, wait how long had they been closed. He took his other hand and rubbed his eyes, the itchiness from his eyes making them water a little bit. He focused back on the screen, but Tan was scratching his scalp, and Antoni's warmth was making him feel like he was in a fog.

Tan felt a pressure on his shoulder and he turned to see Bobby was asleep. His neck was no longer supporting his head and he was leaning more and more into Tan as he continued to fall into a deeper sleep. Tan smiled. "Is he finally asleep?" Jonathan asked turning around in the front seat. "Aww, that's so precious!" He said looking at Bobby's resting form against Tans. He continued to pet his hair, just to make sure he was fully asleep. "Here," Antoni whispered, picking up the laptop out of the sleeping mans lap and saving everything before turning it off and tucking it away in the safety of his bag. "I'm glad you were able to get him to rest, we need to talk to him about over working himself." Karamo said, more to himself as he looked at the three men in the back seat through his rear mirror. "Oh my goodness I have to take a picture of this adorable moment!" Jonathan said pulling his phone out. Tan looked over at Bobby the best he could without disturbing him. He looked so peaceful, his cheek resting against Tan's shoulder as his breathing was getting slower and slower. "Oh! I wanna be in it!" Antoni said leaning into Bobby, the sleeping man still was holding hands with Antoni so it was easy for him to lean in and join the picture Jonathan was taking. Jonathan turned back around after he was done and Karamo looked to Jonathan. "Were you even ever car sick? Or was this your plan the whole time?" He asked the youngest. "Oh what do you even mean?" Jonathan asked with the worlds biggest smirk as he innocently looked away from Karamo. The man laughed as he focused back on the road.

"Come on sleepy head," Bobby groaned and buried himself more into whatever warmth he was leaning against. "Oh he is so cute I can't move him." He heard Tan said and he blinked his eyes open. It was dark outside and he was so sleepy. "wha-...what time is it?" He asked, feeling very confused as Antoni giggled. "It's a little past ten pm. You slept most of the way home." He said as he ruffled Bobby's hair. Bobby was still feeling very groggy. "I did?...but my work." He said, trying to sit up. But his body wasn't as awake as his mind and he realized he was being held by Tan. Somehow he had moved to where his head was resting on Tans's chest and they were basically sharing the same seat. "You needed the rest silly, and honestly you still look like you could sleep a lot more." Tan said moving some of the hair out of Bobby's face with his gentle touch. It was the first time and of the Fab five were able to see this rare sleepy and cuddly side of Bobby and they were soaking it in. Jonathan and Karamo were standing outside of the car, honestly a bit jealous that Antoni and Tan got to cuddle an adorably sleepy Bobby. "Next time your driving so I get to cuddle and love on Bobby." Jonathan said pouting. Bobby yawned and stretched his legs. "Were back already?" He asked. Tan giggled. "The ride was a lot longer for us than it was for you. but yes, and you husband is waiting for you." Bobby's eyes, which had closed while Tan was talking opened up at the mention of his husband. "Dewey?" He asked looking around. "Right here babe." His husband had come to the condo Fab Five loft to surprise his husband. But he wasn't expecting to see Bobby all sleepy and needy at all. "He must really trust you guys to have been able to fall asleep in front of you." He said to Antoni and Karamo. "I think he had just reached the point of exhaustion." Karamo admitted as Bobby climbed over Tan out of the car and let himself fall into his husbands arms. "Deweyyyyy." He said hugging him tightly. His husband laughed. "He is still pretty out of it, I'll take it from here. Thank you guys." He said before ducking down and picking bobby up bridal style. The other members of Fab Five giggled and said bye to the two. Bobby didn't complain, instead he buried his head into his lovers neck and wrapped his arms around him, asleep again before they even made it to his car.

(and when Bobby woke up the next morning next to his husband with no recollection of what happened. He was going through his Instagram feed when he saw that Jonathan had posted a picture of him asleep between Antoni and Tan who were both cuddling him and smiling for the photo. The caption said "We love our hard working Bobby, but everyone needs a little cat nap sometimes #meow #cutesleepybaby #bobbyisadorable #antoniandtansandwich)

#Queer Eye fan fiction #Queer eye #Antoni #Tan #Bobby #Jonathan #Karamo #ot5 #fan fiction #gay man #fluff #sleepy cuddles #fanifiction

46 notes · View notes

sweatpantshedonist · 6 years

Text

This is a bunch of fake band names that read as a poem

Khaki pain Undome Smile Flooring Perse Brick Voyeur Sleeping bag Beautiful sunset Morning poem Hush poet Danky Cummy Tried Floppy dick 1992 Toyota Camry Beavis and butthead and loneliness Bb lonely Work is ass Work is fuck Fuck work Worky life Wage God Salary Weak Dick Boshtwish Morose bone Stupid powder All My Friends 3D Origami Time is a vapecloud Heinous925 xGodx Famous Life Life Work The Real You Fool Steve he's dumb Steve's Bong Charlie's Throne Nicole's Kid, man Jobby Perse Dumb shit Zoo porn Good soap Idiot hotdog Spicy mustard Coconut water is a healthy alternative to soda Supportive footwear Leather bag Correct postage Unwanted email Return policy Catalog Skinny fit Make-up Brand name goods Low interest loan A fucking mortgage Organic dog food Reusable bag Vinyl acoustics Pitchfork recommendation Athletic attire "Irony" "Sarcasm" Symbolic tattoo for 300 dollars designed by someone else I don't get it I'm agreeing with you Longwinded poetry Self awareness is annoying Dog shit in a plastic bag in your hand Used toilet paper in a plastic tote under my bed Goofing around Water games Pee foot Smelly sexual organ Loud financially successful drunk person Motivated individual For real tho Loss of culture Complete and utter asshole Bad sense of humor Bad close mindedness Tiny penis Tiny nut sac and balls too Favorable review Internet comments with likes Serious news article link Political anger Old people shit being put into my mouth Typing with an outraged look on your face Opinions Strong opinions Drunk opinions Fully informed opinions from someone you don't know said completely out of context Talking for more than 2 minutes about fashion Talking shop all night long yes Bad breath is such a turn off Mean people are so mean It is what it is I don't have the capacity to articulate thoughts/ I don't want to talk to you in depth because you're not my kinda guy Affordable brunch The most amazing tacos Superfood McDonald's is gross Omg I ate McDonald's last night Morning regret Mourning time McDonald's for breakfast Sit down job Performance boost Noticeable improvement Secret fetish My thoughts Taboo Free flowing ideas Projected earnings Family expectations Getting older in the face Fear of death Killing in the name of my coworker Ramon I'm an American badass Working on 2 hours of sleep is harder Trying to concentrate among excessive noise Crazy view from high atop a natural formation Extreme sport enthusiast from Southern California Leisure Free time Tomorrow is my day off Today is my Friday Words said too often Trivial observation The same same same same same Time is cyclical and I'm losing my shit Movie time HBO original series Season finale Series finale Did you see the last episode? Don't spoil it for me Making fun of stuff is good for you Status Post Tagged in whatever You can see my nuts in these pants Saggy beanie Cute flats from Macy's Leggings are v practical Futuristic designer looks Standing outside a store while the wife shops Inconsiderate volume Cute person Cutty spot Look my way Ya yer foine Ok I changed my mind What size is your head? Negi ass Big dog head Taper my jeans How much for this umbrella? Camouflage blender Scrape my face across your serrated toenails Good look Hot looks for fall Really big deal Money hole plz deposit worth Skater/tagger/hotgirlmagnet Your dog has humanlike balls Bitchy side-eye Judging ppl is wrong Why can't u just be happy? Fucking smile jeez Have a good one An autographed photo of Jerry Seinfeld Saggy jeans Tousled hair mist Stand up straight Complain aloud We went to school together Do I know u? Hey is that Jason? Damn I haven't seen u in hella days, homie Stab myself in the shin during someone's shitty performance piece Jam session Music jack off Masturbating my guitar neck I know all the scales I play in a band I do something with my life Punk reunion Reliving the glory days 47 denim jackets in one room You should have been here 4 years ago What era do you think defines your fashion? Really really genuinely cute lesbian I want you Misguided idea Jump shoes Vapid Bohemian hat Wealthy person who tips poorly Condoms suck bro White woman from stable family whose primary interest is trap music I own property in Manhattan Honking at a line of 30 cars All of my current friends in New York are white I don't have any black friends Going for a run in Times Square Shapeless couple in head to toe work out gear (feat. hopelessness) Me (feat. Weak chin and narrow shoulders) No fee apartment Life time gym membership Alan is more upset Carbon monoxide sleepover Bad breakup Hurtful text message Troubling thoughts about suicide and drugs Gun shots in the distance Ruptured dream Nostalgia and cyclical thoughts Nymphomaniac for pain Pain injection feels good Your mom is the butt of all my jokes Fast forward me Costume for penis Parasitic person Clingy butt Sofa Eater My Strange Addiction Balloon Porn Squirting frequently contains urine Urea Urethra Urshit Carbon Soft Gland Hardwood Ruffly Counting Solution Calving Solution Gem Builder Papes Analtussin Phoney Laying down Sustained 7 Icecream salad I only wear boots Child's hat I'm a size small She can't walk in heels Gift card Forced interaction Conversation about tinder during tinder date How much should we tip? Candle Do you watch Game of Thrones? That's life Gun violence advocate Little wife ass bitch Cum repository Soulless vessel of rage God damnit Son of a bitch Get upstairs Jonathan Don't make me Pay for me Cum hose dork Laughable life Deluded self Diluted mind (cuz weed) Dissolves inwarder Pun Malapropism Body Sleep Vapid pleasure Lonely Lobe

#poetry #writing

7 notes · View notes

houseofvans · 7 years

Photo

QUICK JAMS | THE DRUMS

“Life is a challenge, but it makes great art.”

Jonny Pierce is one of the greatest indie artists of our time as he’s spent the last 8 years cultivating The Drums into the magical musical unicorn it is today. With hits such as “Let’s Go Surfing” and “Money” under his belt, this one-of-a-kind artist is ready to release his latest album, “Absymal Thoughts,” absolutely solo— and he couldn’t be happier. It’s been a wild ride following the progression of The Drums over the years, so we were eager to chat with Jonny about his thoughts on changing the course of the band, as well as the events that really steered and molded his new album. Read more after the jump...

Tell us a little bit about The Drums. How did it all begin, and what got you into music in the first place?

Oh god, I mean it’s been 8 years since I started the band. We’ve put out 3 albums and one mini-album. The band started as a four piece, and with each album we have seen at least one member depart— leaving only me as the sole member for the new album, Abysmal Thoughts. Eight years ago I was writing songs that were almost purely whimsical and escapist and now the songs will still make you dance, but have a very heavy subject matter based on my own personal reality.

With your new album Absymal Thoughts dropping, how do you feel your sound has changed since releasing Summertime?

I don’t really think much has changed musically. I still write and record pretty much everything you hear. I think where the real change is happening is in the content. Lyrics are totally vulnerable and honest now. The artwork is exactly what I want, and the live show is not compromised any longer. With the departure of Jacob after Encyclopedia, I was given total freedom (by default) to do exactly what I wanted. Historically, I’ve always done the lion’s share of songwriting and recording, so songs still sound like The Drums, but I always felt like I had more people to represent than just me. I had to consider their various artistic visions, which meant sometimes compromised product. I don’t have to consider anyone anymore. I only consider myself. Don’t get me wrong, I feel grateful for contributions of past members but am nothing but thrilled to have The Drums be my baby again.

Which is your favorite song from the album and why?

I really like “Are U Fucked?.” I introduced a few new elements to the world of The Drums in the form of percussion and brass which continue in other songs on the album, like “Your Tenderness” and the title track and album closer, “Abysmal Thoughts.” This track sort of embodies my new found freedom. Cussing in a song, using bongos and woodblocks, and a muted sax. I don’t think these things would have flown if Jacob was around and I had been sitting on these ideas for literally years. It might be a small change for most people, but for me, It’s a true rebirth.

When you first began writing this album, was there a particular emotion or thought process you wanted your fans to experience?

When I recorded this album, all of the writing was coming from a very lonely and confused headspace. I had just gone through the most significant breakup of my life and I was living in an unfamiliar city and feeling like total garbage. I felt used and worthless, and I guess I wanted my fans to feel that with the new record. So I made a decision to be fully open about where I was in my life emotionally. It’s an exciting album to listen to because it was really like going to a therapist every time I went to record a new song. I just vomit out all my thoughts and the songs would just form around them very organically. In that sense it was an easy album to make. Good art demands to exist.

What (or who) were some key influences in the album’s sound?

I really just try to shut everything out when I am recording a new album. I mean, I think the only music I listened to that whole time was top 40 Radio, and that was just because I heard it in every Uber I got into in LA. I really just listen to nothing or sometimes I’ll listen to my own work from the past. It’s too easy to care what other people are doing once you start to care. So, I’d rather never start caring in the first place. I’m an artist, not a phone app. I don’t need to be constantly updating.

What is something most people don’t know about this album?

That I barely remember making it. At the time, I was punishing myself for letting an important relationship fall apart, so I was doing lots of bad drugs and getting into a lot of trouble. I was seeing a shrink, but I think I was hungover almost every time I went in to see her, so I didn’t really learn much. I missed a lot of sessions and I cried all the time... and suddenly the album was finished and I was like whoa that album really wanted to be made because I had to do the whole thing myself.

Did you encounter any challenges as things progressed when writing Absymal Thoughts? If so, what were they?

My whole life is a challenge, but it makes for great art. I think I’ve always welcomed whatever came my way because it makes life more colorful and I live for art, so to not honor everything that happens would be to not be a good artist.

Is there anyone making music these days that you’re particularly excited about?

Whenever I get asked this question, I automatically start making a list of all the bands and artists that I loathe, but that isn’t the question that you asked! I’m enjoying Snail Mail’s new EP. She has a voice that you shouldn’t and wouldn’t ignore, and then there’s this African-percussive-dance stuff by a group called Xanga. My favorite track from them right now is called “This Is How It Starts” or “This is How It Begins.” It’s really incredible. My favorite track right now.

What’s your free time like when you’re not writing or touring the globe?

I spend time pretty much staying in my apartment in the LES, New York trying to pretend I’m a real person— or else I’m up at my lake cabin gardening, trying to pretend I’m a real person. Both activities almost always include my boyfriend, Keon. He calms me and makes me want to do everything to the best of my ability. He’s helped change me into a better person, I think. I have this other friend, Bob. Bob is in his 70’s and he’s my mother and father, sister and brother, grandparent and mentor, and son and daughter. He is quite literally everything to me. He is part of my chosen family.

Got any good tour stories?

Uh yeah— for the first time in my life, no one is on tour with me who doesn’t want to be there! How’s that for refreshing?!

With Absymal Thoughts releasing, what do you want to get out of this album? Who do you want to tour with, and where?

I just want people to be touched by the vulnerable nature of the album. I get emails and messages every day from people who cling to my music because they find comfort in it. Lots of them tell me they are extremely lonely. Some of them are suicidal. Some of them are considering coming out. This is what matters to me most. Who I tour with and all that is very secondary. I want to keep making more music, and beyond that who cares really.

So what’s next for The Drums?

A giant (and I mean giant) world tour.

Follow The Drums: Tour // Instagram // Twitter

Photos: Jonathan Mehring

Words: Brittany Wood

#vans #vans shoes #vans off the wall #vans music #House of vans #jonathan mehring #the drums #absymal thoughts #brittany wood #Music #Interviews

165 notes · View notes

rixmatthews-blog · 5 years

Text

Adeste+ Lisbon 2019, Day 3

After the day of seminars and masterclasses yesterday, I went down into Lisbon’s beautiful old town and had a wander round with Lizzy & Dilek from the Mercury Theatre Colchester, followed by a lovely dinner with Anne, Penny and Jonathan from The Audience Agency (an organisation who are more helpful and brilliant than I can even begin to describe, and one of the partners on Adeste+), Ben (formerly of Ministry of Stories, a fab organisation based just upstairs from us at Graeae) and Lucy from the Arts Marketing Association (another brilliant place who do lots of great work). We went to the Buenos Aires Cafe (pictured below) - I resisted the urge to unleash my inner Eva Peron, jump up onto the table and burst into “What’s new, Buenos Aires?” from Evita - and for some reason I ordered a load of deep fried cheese, so had a major case of food envy when other peoples delicious looking steak and fish arrived.

Anyway, it was all in all a lovely evening, plotting future ideas for collaborations, partnerships and ambitions over wine, and reminding me that the learning and ideas exchange outside the lecture theatres is just as important as that which goes on inside.

On our way back to the tube, we passed a shop selling guns, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to buy my first Pistolas 😳.

This morning, I needed some stillness and quiet time to process the week so far, so had breakfast in the beautiful Gulbenkian Gardens, soaked up some sun and nature and caught up on some emails.

For the rest of the morning, I went to a session about “Giving the Stage to Citizens”. The case study was led by Miriam Tscholl, from Staatsschauspiel in Dresden, who have been running a very similar programme to Public Acts (run by the National Theatre in London) over the last few years; massive productions performed by members of the local community. One of the recent actors was a disgraced local priest, who had jumped at the opportunity to play God in a production of Faust. 😆Brilliant.

A strand of this programme is a public dinner with participants in front of an audience, who also get involved. Some of the target audiences are shown in the photo below - certainly no shortage of diversity! Two other photos show some of the participants getting involved, including a bike repair workshop run by and for refugees - truly awesome work.

The afternoon Audience Engagement case study that I went to was led by four brilliant women: Katarina from the National Theatre in Croatia, and Lizzy, Dilek and Abbi from the Mercury in Colchester. The Croatian NT are doing some very cool initatives to engage with their audience (including ‘Family Dinners’ between the theatre and the public to find out what people want, which I think is fab), buses around the city where actors and public get to meet and talk, and a new time capsule idea after they found a time capsule from when the theatre was first built. They also regard the relationship with their audience as being a partnership, which I think is a really smart way of thinking and a good reminder.

It was also really fascinating and insightful to hear from the Mercury (run by my old friend Steve Mannix who was the boss at Shape when I was there) as well about their redevelopment project, branding and the challenges/strategies of programming (how to involve the audience in programming decisions was a group exercise I was involved with as part of the session). Also how they’re taking the audience on a journey (literally and figuratively) from the old theatre (just closed down) to an enormous tent in the nearby Abbey Field (the branding for which I love - below), which is helping them to engage with the local Garrison Community.

This session - as per each day so far - ended with a wrap up summary, including a giant selfie with everyone at the summer school, to wish the Mercury good luck for their production of OLIVER! opening tomorrow. I’ll try and find the picture and share it tomorrow.

So another great day - I think we’re all tired and slightly at the halfway point slump, but everyone remains cheerful, in good spirits and eager to listen and learn (including me).

To end for today, here’s a selfie of me and my friend Calouste Gulbenkian (the original Mr G), who seems to be looking down on me - even though my CATS T-shirt remains safely at home. But maybe it’s the indoor wearing of the hat he disapproves of....

Boa noite chickens xxx

0 notes

casshewscorner · 7 years

Text

ACNL Club Tortimer PSA

Alright so I decided to pay a visit to the multiplayer island for the first time today. It was all fine and dandy, until this player named Jonathan appeared and decided to wreck havoc on everyone who happened to be there.

Not to bash on Jonathans in general. There’s some pretty cool Jonathans out there. This one just happened to be an A-Class Asshole and a Major Creep.

I found it highly suspicious that this guy wasn’t making the effort to catch any fish or bugs. He was just following me around and trying to make conversation. Literally, some of the first words he spoke to me were “Death to America.” I’ve heard worse on online servers, but this was pretty unnerving. Then he proceeded to persistently ask me where I lived. Like hell was I gonna give this guy my location (even tho its literally on your TPC card use your damn vision Jonathan). Fortunately, I blocked this guy from ever matching up with me again (fuck you, dude. Quit trolling.)

Everyone else who happened to join were lovely. Luckily, they didn’t get as badly harassed by him, though he did spout some anti-black statements too. Asshole. Another person there was trying to defend me from this creep (thank you friend I hope you’re virtually and physically safe, Dan). We both went inside when the guy figured out to check the TPC card and knew which province I’m from (we were all from the same province). My annoyed self was ready to skedaddle, and just as I was about to go home and the other person was trying to go on a tour, this son of a bastard decided to pull the plug on us and send us right back to our respective towns.

The loss wasn’t all too bad. I lost my blue marlin and all of the other bugs and fish I caught but no biggie. I could always just do rounds at the private island and make bank there. I managed to take home the stuff I bought so there’s that.

All in all, make sure you guys are aware of suspicious activity, NEVER give out personal information - that includes phone #, email, address, etc., and keep a finger on the Emergency Call Home Button on the touch screen if you ever feel uncomfortable or threatened. You can also mute the chat if someone is really getting on your nerves but you still wanna enjoy the island.

Stay safe everyone. Be nice to other players. And immediately block Mayor Jonathan from Ontario if you ever cross paths with him. Sadly, my screenshots from the incident weren’t saved due to my DS time not being updated. If it helps, his TPC displays him in a grey suit and hat, his eyes are closed, and his card said “Crap, my eyes are closed!” or something to that effect. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with his incessant anti-America views, racist bullshit, and overall creepiness.

Take care, folks.

#acnl #animal crossing #new leaf #club tortimer #psa #text post #casrambles #stay safe y'all #keep away from trolls and phishers #rant #long post

15 notes · View notes

bangchanshehe · 7 years

Text

Are you mine? (2/?)

A/N: So just in general I have so many ideas of what I want to write and this is going to be a pretty lengthy series... sorry that it took me five lifetimes to get this out.

Word count: ~3.6k

Genre: Angst, smut

Summary: You recently moved to Korea to teach and run into Baekhyun who gives you the opportunities of a lifetime. With multiple people chasing after you, friendships will be broken and many people will do whatever it takes to win your affection.

“You speak Korean?” he seemed genuinely surprised that you were able to speak back to him. You were baffled by the level of confidence that he had in himself. Celebrity or not this type of behavior was not something that you tolerated. Did he think that you were just some naïve tourist who had no idea who he was?

“Of course, I live here!” you stated back

“Well that’s even better babe, how about you and me go back to my boo-“ he stopped mid-sentence when a familiar body was standing next to you wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in closer.

Cole seemed to be paying close attention to your surroundings even if he was preoccupied on the crowded and busy dance floor and was quick to help you at any sign of trouble. You turned to look him in the face and you saw this jaw was visibly set in place as he served his best go away look. Baekhyun noticed his obvious cold demeanor and just smiled even wider. Just what the hell was his problem? Who smiles like that in a situation like this?

“You know I was beginning to worry that your friends ditched you but now that I see they’re still here why don’t you both come back to my booth? I’m sure there are some women who you’d find acceptable there.” he said in a challenging tone.

“No thanks, my girlfriend and I are doing just fine on our own” Cole replied back in an equally intimidating tone.

“We both know that she’s not your girlfriend!” Baekhyun said chuckling. “If she was you wouldn’t be dancing with other girls out on the dance floor like you’ve been doing all night.”

Had he been watching you and your friends all night? You immediately began to get uncomfortable in between the two men.

“Regardless, she’s not interested.” Cole quickly piped in and you smiled at his protectiveness over you.

“Why don’t you let her speak for herself? She never once turned me down.” He replied and turned back to you giving you a smirk.

“And I’m here to tell you that it’s not. Gonna. Happen.” Cole barked back. You could practically see the smoke and flames behind his eyes.

Lydia and Jonathan were back at your sides and were curiously looking back and forth in between the two men.

“What’s going on here?” Jonathan chimed in.

“Nothing’s going on we were just leaving” Cole said continuing to stare the other man down while he grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you away to the exit of the club.

Lydia and Jonathan silently followed behind and were anxiously waiting to hear any sort of explanation for the quick exit. Cole remained quiet the whole time and without any sort of explanation you and the rest of the group kept quiet the entire cab ride back home. The tension remained thick enough that everyone felt slightly uncomfortable with the amount of deafening silence. You were first to break the silence with a cough.

“Sorry for that guys. Had I known that the way I dressed would have led to this big of a problem I would have changed.” You quietly spoke up and Cole scoffed and looked over at you from the other side of the elevator.

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way that you decided to dress. But, everything was wrong with the way that those guys behaved tonight. Especially that EXO guy! It was disgusting to see him prowl around you like that and try to use his fame to get you to leave with him.”

“You’re too sexy Em. Wear some pajamas or something next time.” Jonathan added in laughing, causing the rest of us to laugh with him ultimately breaking the uncomfortable aura.

When the elevator opened you parted ways with the boys and went home to your dorm calling it a night. You stepped inside and told Lydia that you would be going to be going to bed and she also headed straight for her room. Once in the comfort of your new room you immediately began to start taking off your make up and get ready for bed. You reached for your purse to find your phone to set your alarm for the morning when you noticed for the first time since you left that you didn’t have your phone. You dumped all of the contents of your purse out on the bed in hopes that it fell to the bottom or was hidden in a pocket but your hopes were shot when you didn’t see your phone. Wherever your phone was you were sure to not ever see it again.

All of your information about your school, the first day on the job, even where you lived was all on that phone and you immediately cursed yourself for not having a password on your phone. Anyone who got their hands on it was now completely open to peer into your whole life. You turned off your bedroom light and with a heavy sigh you climbed in bed and screamed into your pillow.

You woke up the next morning around ten at the smell of coffee and breakfast cooking in the kitchen. You peeled yourself away from the sheet of the bed and made your way down the hall to greet your roommate.

“Good morning sleeping beauty! I was just about to wake you up for breakfast.” Lydia said in a sweet voice.

“Thanks” you responded with a smile stretching and yawning as your body was starting to finally wake up.

“Hey do you think that after we eat you can take me to a store to get a new phone. I left mine at the club last night and I’m sure I’ll never see it again.” You said with a pout on your face.

“There’s no need. Some guy by the name of manager Park called earlier this morning and said he had your phone and to pick it up at a coffee shop around noon. The shop’s real close by too so we can just walk there.”

You immediately felt a wave of stress immediately fall off your shoulders. But as soon as it left you it came rolling back. This stranger had to have gone through your phone to know to call your roommate, which means that inevitably he probably knew other information about you as well. You sighed and ate the rest of your breakfast thankful that even if someone knew too much about you, you would soon have your phone back in your hands.

As soon as it was 11:30 you made your way out with Lydia to retrieve your phone from Mr. Park. You decided that if you were going to go to a coffee shop it would be worth it to go early so you could get a coffee while you waited and make use out of the trip. When you finally reached the front of the shop you noticed how tiny and neglected the shop looked. Inside it looked just as good. There were booths and tables that had rips in the seating and the shop had no one inside, other than the lonesome barista. When she looked up at you entering she immediately perked up and asked what you wanted to drink. You and Lydia placed your orders and sat quietly at a small table close to the door.

When you heard the door open you picked your head up and noticed a man come in quietly by himself and you assumed that it was Mr. Park. Lydia stood to bow to the gentleman once he approached your table and you did the same.

“Hello, I’m Park Soo Hyun and I believe that this is your cell phone.” He bowed and took a seat and slid your cell phone over to you.

“Thank you so much for returning it to me!” you said bowing your head multiple times to the stranger.

“No, it’s no trouble at all. In fact I’m not actually the one who found it.”

“Regardless thank you for taking the time to return it to me today!”

“I’m sorry but I can’t spend too much time here. It took me 30 minutes to get here from my company and I’m afraid that I’ve already been gone too long.” His statement gave you a red flag and you looked over at Lydia to gauge her reaction as well. Why would this guy not choose a location closer to where he was? That’s what you and any other logical person would have done.

“At least allow me to buy you a cup of coffee!” you chimed in as he began to rise from his seat. He looked down at you and sighed. He double checked the time on his watch and then gave you a small smile and nod.

You asked him what he would like and placed his order at the front and as soon as it was ready you handed it off to him and his phone began to ring. He accepted the phone call and stepped away from your table.

“Hello? Yes, I’m on my way back now. I’ve just given her the phone. Yes, I’ll pick you up food on the way. Of course.” He snickered into the phone and hang up.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Emily, but I must leave now. I will see you soon!” he bowed and left the shop.

You were immediately thrown by his departure. You completely stilled all movement as you tried to wrap your head around what he just said. He just said ‘see you soon’. You turned your face to Lydia and she looked equally as creeped out.

“What the hell was that about? See you soon?” she visibly shook as chills ran up her spine. “That had to be the weirdest thing that’s happened so far. Come on let’s get go home.”

You began to open up your phone to text a reply to your unanswered text messages that were sent while your phone was missing, only to notice that Mr. Park had read through all your texts, old and new. You began to get the butterflies in your stomach as you began to assume the worst about the stranger who just gave you your phone back. If he had gone through your text messages what else had he gone through? You opened up your email and your messages that were sent from Lydia were opened. Your heart immediately felt like it was going to drop out of your chest. There on your phone was all and any information that anyone needed to know of how to get to your house and how to get inside your house. That one string of opened emails from Lydia immediately instilled a panic in you. You grabbed Lydia by the arm and showed her all of your open texts, and emails, specifically the email that she sent you.

“That’s it I’m making the boys stay over tonight. I’m sorry but I won’t be able to sleep unless I know that they’re there.” You nodded back to her and gladly accepted the company of the men.

As soon as you made your way back home Lydia called the boys over to help reprogram the door code of the house. You decided on an easy code that the both of you could remember and settled down for the rest of the day.

The boys were curious as to what had the two of you so worried and when you explained the story the men were more than willing to stay over as long as you needed them two. The guys took turns going home to shower and change and then came back over with pillows and blankets so they could sleep comfortably tonight.

Once both of the boys were back at the apartment you decided to have a low key night and just watch Netflix. You and Cole had no preference in what you watched but Jonathan and Lydia went back and forth with each other to decide on what to watch. By the time that a movie was actually picked twenty minutes had passed.

By the time that the movie had ended and a second movie had been picked it was six o’clock and everyone was ready to eat. The guys decided to order take out from one of their favorite noodle shops and not knowing the menu you let the boys order for you. Once the food had arrived the movie was about half way over and everyone was mindlessly on their phones not paying any attention to the movie. Jonathan got up to get the food and passed out the bowls to everyone once the deliverer was out of the door.

“Here you go” Jonathan passed the food around and then took his place next to Lydia on the couch. The two immediately dug into their plates and you were stuck on your bowl trying to get the plastic sealing off. Recognizing your struggle Cole chuckled and took your bowl from you to remove the plastic.

“Em, yours has peppers in it and it’s a little spicy. But if you don’t want the peppers you can put them in my bowl or if it’s too spicy ill trade with you.” He whispered as he handed the bowl back to you and motioned for you to try it to see if it was okay before he began to eat his own bowl. You were completely content with what the boys ordered you and you nodded your head to Cole. After you ate you returned your full attention back to the TV screen. Jonathan and Lydia were beginning to get comfortable next to each other under the blanket on the couch and you tried your hardest not to laugh or look too much at the obvious two. You and Cole picked the next movie once the previous had ended, assuming that regardless of what was picked John and Lydia wouldn’t be paying too much attention to anything other than each other anyways. Half way through the third movie Jonathan and Lydia excused themselves from the room and went inside Lydia’s room to go to sleep. Subtlety was not a word in their dictionary. You playfully rolled your eyes and chuckled at the two once they left the room and jumped up to take your turn sitting on the couch.

You woke up much later on the couch with a stiff neck and sore butt, over heated when you noticed a blanket thrown over you and Cole sleeping next to you on the couch. You didn’t even realize that you had been so tired or even knew how late it was. You checked the time on your phone and your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw that it was almost 11. You began to feel guilty for taking up the couch that Cole was supposed to be sleeping on making him fall asleep sitting upwards in the small space left for him after you spread out unknowingly in your sleep. You sighed and adjusted your position meanwhile trying to also adjust Cole’s position so he didn’t end up waking up sore with a headache. You pulled his legs out from his cramped positon and tried to rotate his head to lean back on the couch when he simultaneously adjusted his positon in his sleep causing him to roll over completely. He fell sideways and his head landed itself in your lap causing you to be trapped underneath him. You tried to pull him back up but were faced with defeat when he cuddled further into your lap wrapping his arms around your legs leaving you with no way out unless you wanted to wake him up. You covered your mouth trying to cover your shock from your face and quiet your gasp when your phone began to ring.

You immediately tried to get up but where helpless against Cole’s dead weight. You looked down at the display to see incoming call from HOT BYUNS and answered the phone as quietly as you could.

“hello?” you said in a whisper trying to identify the caller of the number who you were unable to identify.

“I get your phone back to you safely and you have yet to call or text me to thank me? I’m very disappointed.” The man on the line spoke in a playfully accusing tone.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Wow. You can’t even recognize my voice? You must not be a fan.” He chuckled. You stayed silent until the stranger would answer your question. The voice didn’t belong to Mr. Park and you were eager to get an answer out of the man who had no intentions of giving you one easily. With a deep sigh he finally responded.

“Byun Baekhyun. We met last night but you were rudely taken away from me before I could properly introduce myself.” You began to connect the dots and inwardly groaned at yourself for answering the phone.

“How did you get this number?” was all that you could muster to say back.

“You left your phone at the table last night when homeboy yanked you out of the club. I kept it and gave it to my manager to return to you. I figured that if I called you, you would bring that guy with you to pick it up and I don’t care to see him again. All I had to do was call myself from your phone to get your number. And for that I thank you for not having a password on your phone.” At least he was honest you thought to yourself.

“So about that, I was thinking that you should do me a favor since I did you such a HUGE one by safely returning your phone to you” by now you could hear the playfulness returning to his voice and it made you even more frustrated.

“What do you want?” you kicked yourself for asking. However, your phone was a precious thing to you and you were genuinely thankful that it was back in your hands. Regardless of your first impression, thanking him is something that needed to be done.

“I want you to give me English lessons.” He said demandingly

“How do you know that I even speak English?” he laughed at your question

“While I had your phone open to get your number I took the liberty to learn some interesting things about you. I know that you just moved here, you’re an English teacher and you’re single.” You gasped at his confession.

“That’s a huge invasion of privacy! How dare you!” you barked back at him.

“I know it was pretty rude to go through your phone but I needed to figure out who the pretty woman was who left me last night.” You rolled your eyes at him unable to do much more with Cole still in your lap. “You know this is kind of just like Cinderella. You’re the princess, I’m the prince, homeboy is the ugly stepmother and your phone is the glass slipper. Jagi-ah can we stop avoiding each other and skip to the happily ever after part?” you groaned at his horrible association of you and Cinderella.

“If I give you a lesson we call it even?” you were ready for this conversation to be over with. You were done with this phone drama. And you were ready to part ways from Byun Baekhyun. Getting his favor done with was the only way to officially rid yourself of him.

“Of course. Are you free tomorrow? I can meet you around let’s say eight tomorrow night”

“Fine. Text me an address and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll just come to you. There’s no way we’d get anything done at the dorm or the building.”

“No, there’s no way. I have a roommate. We can’t do it here!” you practically yelled into the phone.

“And I have eight! Your place is the only option. I can’t exactly meet you at a Starbucks either.” You knew that he had a point.

“Fine, I’ll text you my address.” You were done fighting with him and you could hear the surrender in your own voice.

“No need Princess I already have it. I look forward to our date tomorrow, goodnight Jagi” he laughed and hung up on you before you could even say anything back.

You wanted to throw your phone across the room now. How dare he put you in such a position! Despite the unpopular opinion your really were starting to hate him. You were trying to calm yourself down when you felt Coles weight lift completely off of you. You looked up to him and noticed that he was completely awake.

“Who was that? It sounded intense.” Was all he could say. Shit! You woke him up despite your best efforts to keep quiet.

“That was one of my friends from last night.” You hissed

“What did he want? How did he get your number? Which one was it?” he asked his voice rising and getting angrier as his questions progressed.

“It’s a really long story! Hey, do you think that you could come over tomorrow night around 8? I’m having an uninvited guest and would really appreciate it if you could come over.” He slowly nodded his head and stretched out his undoubtedly stiff body.

“You can go home now, by the way. I don’t think that we’re gonna have any problems.”

“If it’s okay with you then I’ll go home.” You nodded your head at him and he was quickly picking up his belongings before heading out of the front door.

NEXT PART

#baekhyun #baekhyun series #exo #exo series #exo smut #kpop smut #kpop series

48 notes · View notes

savetopnow · 6 years

Text

2018-03-21 15 CELEBRITY now

CELEBRITY

Taylor Swift's Latest Surprise Has Amber Rose and Wiz Khalifa's Son Freaking Out

Blake Shelton Reminds Fans That Gwen Stefani Is the "Greatest"

The Bachelorette: Becca Kufrin Is Ready to Say "Sayonara" to Arie Luyendyk Jr. and Lauren Burnham

Everything We Know About Khloe Kardashian's Plans to Give Birth In Cleveland

American Horror Story Season 8: Everything We Know So Far

Hollywood Life

NSYNC Planning ‘Special’ Reunion Performance For Hollywood Walk Of Fame Ceremony

Donald Trump: Stormy Daniels, Melania & All The Women He’s Wedded & Allegedly Bedded — Pics

Vanessa Trump Reportedly Pissed At Don Jr. For Being An Absentee Dad: He’s Far From The ‘Perfect Father’

Is Nicki Minaj Ready To Rekindle Romance With Meek Mill Again? Why She’s Thinking Of Reconnecting

Kylie Jenner & Travis Scott Take A Break From Stormi For Romantic Jamba Juice Date — Pic

Media Take Out

Desiigner Caught Taking A PIZZ On Someone’s House!! (PICS)

Comedian Sinbad Appears To Be SNITCHING On Russell Simmons . . . Says ‘MORE WOMEN’ Are Gonna Come Out With RAPE Claims!!!

Shirley Strawberry From Teh STEVE HARVEY RADIO SHOW . . . Is Being Sued . . . For Being a ‘DEADBEAT’!!

People

Ruth Bader Ginsburg Is a Curator of International Scrunchies: 'My Best Come from Zurich'

Twin Brothers Separated Forever After One Receives Life-Saving Transplant While the Other Dies

Idol Hopeful Dedicates Audition to Infant Son Months After Stepping Into Role of Adoptive Father

Ayesha Curry's Daughters Adorably Kiss Her Growing Baby Bump: 'Blessing on Blessing on Blessing'

Latina Trend-setters Nicole Mejía, Annie Vazquez and Anna Gabriella Muñoz Talk Facing Online Bullies and Fighting for Freedom of Expression

Perez Hilton

Melania Trump Defends Her Cyber Bullying Initiative — Omitting One GLARING Contradiction…

Kendra Wilkinson 'Has Been Spending A Lot Of Time With' Friends Amid 'Marital Problems' With Hank Baskett!

Donald Trump Jr.'s Affair With Aubrey O'Day Ended After Wife Vanessa Discovered Their Emails!

Georgia's Own 'Loch Ness Monster' Actually Washes Up On Shore — So What Is It???

Kylie Jenner Is Duping Her Fans! Kit Harington Partying Too Hard? AND…

Popsugar

The Details Surrounding Tupac's Death Will Still Send Chills Down Your Spine 21 Years Later

The Life-Changing Incident That Shattered Tupac and Biggie's Friendship

How Did Tupac and Biggie Meet? Here's the Song That Brought Them Together

Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth Went All Out For St. Patrick's Day, and We Can't Look Away

Gone Too Soon: This Is How Old Biggie and Tupac Would Have Been Today

Reddit Entertainment

How Disney Took Over Moviegoing in the 21st Century

Justice League ends its theatrical run as the lowest-grossing DCEU movie

Jonathan Martin Surrenders To Police.

Logic And Wife No Bad Blood Our Marriage 'Just Didn't Work Out'.

Rel’: Sinbad To Co-Star In Fox Comedy Pilot

TMZ

Tony Robbins' Company Sued for About $23k in Unpaid Jet Fuel

Buffalo Bills' Zay Jones in Nude, Bloody Arrest After Penthouse Meltdown

Cynthia Nixon Shouldn't Be Running For Governor, Says New York Congressman

Mel B Rocks Spice Girls Jacket with 'Wannabe' Lyrics, in Public

Ex-NFL Star Jonathan Martin Surrenders to Police

The Shade Room

Kroy Biermann Claps Back At The RHOA Ladies For Having An Issue With Him Driving Kim To All Her Events, “It’s Hard For Me To Feel When They Talk”

Michael B Jordan To Produce A World War II Drama About African American Liberators

Tyler Perry Talks About His Bidding War With Blue Ivy

TSRExlclusive: Woman Who Dr. Greg Admitted To Taking Back To A Hotel Room Spills Tea On What Happened!

Student Sprays Pepper Spray Like A Can Of Febreze In Brooklyn School, Sends 12 To The Hospital

Us Weekly

‘MAFS’ Recap: Ryan Ditches Jaclyn to Go Drink With His Friends

‘Rise’ Recap: Is [Spoiler] Leaving Stanton High?

Busy Philipps in Agony After Getting 'Sunburned' Eyes on Photo Shoot

Aubrey O’Day's 'Apprentice' Costars React to Donald Trump Jr. Affair

Stormy Daniels Talks Alleged Affair With Donald Trump: 'There Was No Sleeping'

#celebrity

0 notes

businessliveme · 4 years

Text

How Beyonce & Mariah Carey helped turn Airbnb into a luxury brand

(Bloomberg) –For one week in the summer of 2015, consumers of celebrity gossip news couldn’t escape Mariah Carey’s trip to Malibu, California. Her stay at an Airbnb there, which she chronicled on Instagram, made headline writers swoon. It was covered in TMZ (“Mariah Carey: I USED AIRBNB… For My Sick Malibu Rental”), Page Six (“Inside Mariah Carey’s $10K-a-night Airbnb rental”) and PopSugar (“Mariah Carey’s $10,000-a-Night Airbnb Is the Ultimate Fantasy,” along with a slideshow).

But the pop star didn’t just happen to see the listing idly scrolling through the app. Carey was a test run of what would become a wildly successful celebrity marketing campaign for a young, scrappy startup. Airbnb Inc. covered the cost of the Malibu stay, and it was just the beginning. The company had relationships with about 65 celebrities and went on to provide free lodging for several of the world’s biggest stars, including Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga and Beyoncé.

All the company asked for in return was that, if they had a good time, they consider posting about it online.

Today, influencer marketing is a more than $6 billion industry. A single post can command upward of $1 million. But the lucrative practice has attracted scrutiny from U.S. regulators as influencers and celebrities blur the lines of content and advertising. Instagram recently came under fire over influencers shilling diet teas with ingredients approved for use only as laxatives. The Federal Trade Commission issued new guidance for social media disclosure this month.

Read: Luxury resort Dusit Thani Maldives sweeps five global awards

But Airbnb’s celebrity marketing program, the details of which haven’t been previously reported, started before most people knew what an influencer was. It was a harbinger of the celebrity marketing bonanza to come and played a role in setting up Airbnb as an alternative to high-end resorts—now a key part of the company’s strategy as it seeks to justify a $31 billion valuation and go public next year.

As public investors look less kindly on money-losing tech companies, it helps that booking a beach-side villa is far more profitable than renting a spare bedroom in Queens, New York. To bolster that strategy, Airbnb made one of its largest-ever acquisitions in 2017 for a business called Luxury Retreats and introduced a mansion-rental service in summer 2018 called Airbnb Luxe.

“The Mariah relationship has become legendary for Airbnb,” says Jonathan Mildenhall, who was Airbnb’s chief marketing officer at the time.

Airbnb declined to provide details on its relationships with celebrities. “As a hospitality company that embraces hosting, we work with a number of celebrities and public personalities and often pick up the tab,” a spokeswoman wrote in an emailed statement.

Before a company can get a star to use and endorse its products to millions of followers, though, it has to get an introduction. At the time, Airbnb didn’t have the budget to go through the typical gatekeepers. Talent agencies that might broker a traditional sponsorship deal were prohibitively expensive, Mildenhall says.

So Brian Chesky, Airbnb’s chief executive officer, offered an unconventional idea. There was a guy in Las Vegas who ran a nightclub packed with celebrities, who were his friends; he hosted their parties; and they might just listen to his recommendations about a house-rental app. “Go and check this guy out,” Mildenhall recalls Chesky telling him. “See if it’s authentic.”

Chesky’s guy was Jeff Beacher. His nightclub, Beacher’s Madhouse, was the stuff of Las Vegas legend. Beacher himself was a nightlife institution, dubbed at different times a “celebrity showman” by Rolling Stone, a “great innovator” by Entrepreneur and a “corpulent clown prince” by the Las Vegas Weekly.

Beacher’s Madhouse started getting attention in Las Vegas in the mid-2000s. It was a vaudevillian bacchanal, with Beacher onstage as emcee often wearing a red satin ringmaster’s vest. The show featured little people costumed as Oompa Loompas dangling from the ceiling on zip lines to deliver bottles of Champagne to tables. There were sword swallowers, live goats, contortionists and performers known as Mini Britney Spears and Mini Donald Trump. At points, the show also claimed to feature the world’s smallest and the world’s oldest strippers.

Read: 33 genius travel hacks to upgrade your holiday trips

But the most remarkable feature of Beacher’s Madhouse was the patrons: Celebrity news sites chronicled appearances by Bieber, Bradley Cooper, Leonardo DiCaprio and Mick Jagger at its Las Vegas and, later, Los Angeles locations. Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato and Joe Jonas all threw birthday parties there. “You have this seven-and-a-half-foot transvestite and all these wild performers doing all kinds of crazy things like getting into washing machines and, you know, crushing hands with their giant boobs,” says Larry Rudolph, the talent manager for Britney Spears. “It was just a party.”

Beacher was, in short, just the kind of unconventional power broker Airbnb needed. His friendship with Mariah Carey was well documented. Beacher made the introductions, and after Carey’s first stay in July 2015, she traveled to another Airbnb a few months later. The following year, the singer again stayed with Airbnb in a $22 million Colorado mansion during an Aspen getaway.

Soon after Airbnb started working with Beacher, the startup knew something had clicked. Mildenhall, who ran marketing from 2014 to 2018, “realized that there was this authentic relationship between him and Mariah,” he says. “It wasn’t financially driven.”

Airbnb hired Beacher as an outside “entertainment relations consultant.” Here’s how it worked: Unlike the influencer marketing that’s become standard today, Mildenhall says no financial contracts were drawn and no money changed hands—unless you count the cost of the rental. (Which, to be clear, the FTC would.) The arrangements were largely informal. “It’s not, ‘Wear this handbag; I’ll give you $10,000,’” Mildenhall says. “If they enjoy it, if they have had a good experience, then they talk about that on their own social media platforms.”

Soon, Airbnb was racking up celebrity appearances: It housed Kylie Jenner in a $50 million, 23-bedroom complex in Turks and Caicos. It put up Spears in a $6,000-a-night Malibu villa for Valentine’s Day. And it sheltered all three Jonas brothers in a New York townhouse that had a pool with a waterfall.

But it was in 2016, less than a year into Beacher’s consulting contract, that the startup scored a real coup. After playing to more than 115 million people at the Super Bowl Halftime Show, Beyoncé retired to an opulent mansion in Los Altos Hills, California, equipped with an infinity pool, a chicken coop and 60 fruit trees. She posted a picture of herself on Facebook, sitting near a sleek outdoor fireplace at night, writing: “It was a super weekend Airbnb.”

There were dozens of articles about the exploit. E! News noted the property’s livestock, while the Washington Post and BuzzFeed raised questions about whether the post was sponsored. Either way, the hit turned into a streak. The following year, Lady Gaga posted a picture of herself in a different opulent mansion after her 2017 Super Bowl performance. She wrote: “Thank you @airbnb for the gorgeous home in Houston for #SB51.”

There are rules around disclosing sponsorships. The basic premise of the guidelines demands a “clear and conspicuous” disclaimer of any commercial relationship with the poster and the brand they’re posting about. But the rules leave room for interpretation and have historically not been stringently enforced. As a result, they’re routinely ignored. Ambiguous sponsored content, whereby a social media user receives pay or free goods that they then post about online, has “run rampant,” says Jeff Chester, executive director of the Center for Digital Democracy, a digital rights group.

In its work with celebrities, Airbnb says it was careful not to run afoul of regulators. “We adhere to FTC guidelines by incorporating them into our engagements with these individuals,” a spokeswoman wrote in an email.

Still, particularly in the early days, some celebrity posts about their Airbnbs occupied a gray area. In 2016, around the time the FTC stepped up enforcement of sponsored posts, Truth in Advertising, a consumer advocacy group, sent a letter to members of the Kardashian and Jenner family complaining of “a multitude of posts” about shoes, food and other products that did not clearly disclose commercial relationships, prompting the family to revise many of them. In one, wherein Kylie Jenner stood statuesquely in a white bathing suit above a sun-soaked pool, the text changed from, “Thanks for the birthday home, @airbnb,” to: “Thanks for the gift of a lovely birthday home, @airbnb.”

Lady Gaga similarly edited her original Super Bowl post to clarify that the Airbnb home was a “gift.” And after reporters asked if Beyoncé’s Super Bowl post was sponsored, she eventually deleted it.

More recently, as the FTC has updated its guidelines on what disclosures are required, celebrities’ simple thank-yous to Airbnb have generally been replaced with more explicit language, like the caption in this post from Bieber, which reads, “Thanks for hooking me up, @airbnb.” Instagram has also changed its policies to help address disclosures of commercial relationships for the burgeoning influencer marketing industry. An executive at the Facebook Inc.-owned app recently said there’s no evidence disclosure detracts from a campaign’s effectiveness.

“When Airbnb started working with celebrities, the guidelines weren’t clearly established,” Mildenhall wrote in an email. “We worked closely with the FTC to evolve our approach so that the posts clearly referenced that Airbnb had gifted the home for the duration of the stay. This is now commonplace practice for all celebrity endorsements.”

Beacher also says he made sure his deals were compliant with the “constantly evolving landscape” of FTC requirements, adding, “Each company I worked with has very black-and-white and strict policies when it comes to following FTC regulations.”

Last year, Mildenhall left Airbnb and started his own agency called TwentyFirstCenturyBrand. Beacher also ended his work with Airbnb in 2018, after a roughly three-year collaboration. Over that time, technology startups became a significant part of Beacher’s business. He served as a consultant for Lyft Inc. for two years and says he helped build out its celebrity marketing efforts. A Lyft spokeswoman says Beacher started working with the company’s culture and entertainment team a couple of years after it was formed and that the group is “thankful for his support.”

In conversation, Beacher is given to grand pronouncements. (“I am very good at the media,” he says.) But he is loath to talk about the specifics of his business relationships and is constantly worried about violating non-disclosures agreements. Asked for comment about the mechanics of his deals with Airbnb, Beacher wrote in an email: “The No. 1 rule of celebrity endorsements is to never discuss either side of an endorsement deal and always keep yourself behind the scenes.”

He is more open about his enthusiasm for vitamin drips, a procedure popular with such stars as Chrissy Teigen and Kendall Jenner, who once ended up in the hospital as a result, according to reports. Beacher, who now embraces a health-conscious lifestyle, often speaks publicly about how his time in the entertainment industry almost killed him.

In 2014, after more than a decade running Beacher’s Madhouse, he was depressed and gaining weight. “I got really crazy fat,” Beacher says over an arugula salad lunch in San Francisco, “like, morbidly obese, 440 pounds.” He blames the breakdown on the death of his business partner, stress and various medications he was taking at the time. “My friends gave me, like, a fat intervention,” Beacher says. He went to a raw vegan retreat in West Palm Beach, Florida, got gastric bypass surgery in 2015 and took a hiatus from work.

After that, Beacher pulled back from the fast-paced, late-night world of club-running and turned to more corporate pursuits. As Beacher began connecting celebrities with tech companies, word got around. “He became known in some of these circles as a person with connections to Silicon Valley,” says Rudolph, who has managed both Spears and Miley Cyrus. Beacher was the person to call, Rudolph says, “if somebody wanted to get in touch with Lyft or something like that.”

Today, Beacher says he’s working with about 10 companies. One of those is Wheels Labs Inc., an electric mini-bike rental startup founded by the brothers who created the dog-walking app Wag Labs Inc., where he was also a consultant. Wheels last month raised $50 million. A spokesman for the company says it has worked with Beacher to create more than a dozen customized bikes for celebrities.

But the world of online advertising has changed a lot since Beacher started. “Now it’s like every publicist in the world with a generic pitch deck using buzzwords is pitching big, five-, ten-thousand-dollar retainers,” he sighs. “It’s just very, very saturated.”

These days, Beacher says, he’s spending more time on other endeavors such as investing. For example, he holds stock in scooter startup Lime, most recently valued at $2 billion, as well as Health House LLC, a fitness chain co-founded by the son of Arnold Schwarzenegger and backed by the Winklevoss twins. Beacher recently got back from another vegan retreat, lost 20 pounds and over the summer was spotted on Rebel Wilson’s Instagram feed, cavorting at Walt Disney World.

In the Instagram photos, Cinderella’s Castle rises picturesquely in the background. Wilson’s caption reads: “Thanks to everyone at Disney for this incredible day.” Representatives for the actress and Walt Disney Co. didn’t respond to requests for comment as to whether the post was sponsored.

The post How Beyonce & Mariah Carey helped turn Airbnb into a luxury brand appeared first on Businessliveme.com.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/33mTwQk via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

harttohartforever-blog · 5 years

Text

Cross My Hart

Jensen sat in the outer office waiting nervously for Deanne to allow him into the inner sanctum. He dreaded having to tell Jonathan what happened but he couldn't think of a way out of this mess on his own and he was running out of time. He still couldn't believe he had allowed himself to be caught like this. Even Jonathan's famous patience would be tried, he would probably fire Jensen. And he would be perfectly justified in doing so.

"You can go in, Mr. Bryant." Well, time to face the music. He only hoped Jonathan could figure out a solution. He hesitated in front of the big double doors to take a deep breath and square his shoulders before he pushed one open.

"Jensen. Welcome back. How was China?" Jonathan crossed the office with a big smile and an extended hand.

"Can we talk, Jonathan?" No sense delaying the inevitable. The only thing he could do now was to try and salvage the situation before things got any worse.

Jensen Bryant sat in the smoky jazz club with Ming Yue, listening to bad Miles Davis and Charlie Parker covers. The team had signed a deal today that would make Hart Telecomm the second-largest mobile internet provider in the country, behind only Huawei Technologies. After the formalities were done they had all gone out to celebrate with multiple rounds of baijui, a particularly strong drink similar to vodka. One by one the team members had drifted away until now only Jensen and Ming Yue were left.

Jensen would have left as well but it didn't feel right to leave Ming here alone. Plus, he was rather more intoxicated than he had intended to get, that baijui was sneakily lethal. Ming Yue was a charming companion, flattering and intelligent, as well as beautiful. Looking back on it later, Jensen supposed he should have seen what was happening. But at the time, through the haze of alcohol, it had seemed like a good idea to move the party back to his hotel room.

The next morning, when the warm glow of the liquor was gone, he looked at the woman asleep beside him and knew he had made a huge mistake. Angie would never forgive him. He had never been unfaithful before. He really did love Angie and this would destroy her. She would never trust him on the road again, and he couldn't do his job if he couldn't travel.

The first photo had arrived in his email two days later. By the time he left for the states, he had received three more emails, including a threat to take them public unless Hart Telecomm pulled out of China entirely. The first three pictures were only damaging to him personally. The fourth looked innocent by comparison, it was just a picture of him sitting in the club with Ming, but attached to it was documentation identifying her as a high ranking employee of China Unicom. An affair was one thing. An affair with a VP of their chief competitor looked like collusion. If it leaked out investors would lose confidence and Hart Industries stock could be in free fall.

"What are you going to do about it?" Jonathan was saying now.

"I don't understand. What do you mean?" Jensen asked, puzzled.

"You made a mistake. How do you propose to fix it?"

"I must be dense, I'm still not understanding. I don't know how to save the company's reputation. That's why I'm here. If I knew how to make this go away don't you think I would have just done it?"

"I'm not talking about the deal. Deals are easy. You have to tell Angie the truth. Secrets are the Jack Kevorkian of marriage."

"She's not gonna forgive me, Jonathan." He responded glumly. "And I don't blame her. I really dicked up this time. It never would have happened if I hadn't had too much to drink."

"Stop that right now," Jonathan ordered his friend. "Don't make excuses. You screwed up. You own it, you fix it, and you move on. Now, you go home and make it right with Angie. Let me worry about the merger." Jensen nodded without speaking and left the office. As soon as the heavy door closed Jonathan was on the phone to Abe Solomon. He used his cell phone instead of having Deanne place the call in order to keep the information compartmentalized for as long as possible.

"Abe, I need you to look into these threats quietly. Are they coming from China Unicom or someone outside? Or even from the Chinese government? They still have a stranglehold on how much of the internet they allow but this merger would certainly make it easier for the citizens to gain access to outside information. Call me back on this line or, if you need to fax, use my home fax number would you."

Abe had been with Hart Industries almost from the beginning and there were very few people Jonathan trusted more. He was an investigator for the European offices for more than a decade but had been based in Los Angeles ever since he requested a stateside move to be near his granddaughter at UCLA. Abbie was his namesake and favorite grandchild, and her mother worried about her being so far from the rest of the family in Connecticut. Most of his work was done by computer these days anyway.

Jonathan's second call was to his corporate attorney, and one of the chief architects of the merger, Lou Phillips. If anyone could figure out a way to keep the deal viable it would be Lou. He laid the basic details out for the lawyer and asked for options.

"Look, Jonathan, this deal has been rock solid up to now. The most likely culprit is Huawei because they potentially stand to lose the most if the merger goes through. Hart Telecomm would be in a strong second place and certainly in a position to knock them out of the number one spot given the financial club Hart Industries brings to bear. But I wouldn't discount the Chinese government either. With all the trouble in Taiwan recently Xi Jinping has been cracking down hard on what he considers 'foreign interference'."

"Dig into it, Lou. Abe is working it from his end. But I would like to minimize how far this spreads as much as possible. Jensen made a mistake but that doesn't mean that Angie should be the subject of the company gossip mill." Finally, Jonathan's last call was to the person he trusted most.

"Darling, I hope your day is going smoother than mine. Would you happen to be free for lunch?" Just the sound of her voice went a long way toward improving his mood. "That would be wonderful. Chasen's at one? I'll see you then, Darling. I love you."

Lunches with Jennifer were the highlights of his week. They tried to schedule them at least once a week, thankful that they had enough flexibility in their schedules to allow it. They were both committed to making their marriage the priority so they tried every week to have one day that work started late, and one day that ended early, in addition to a lunch date. It didn't always work but they tried very hard to honor it.

Jennifer knew she needed to call Angie. She trusted Jonathan implicitly but that had not been true of some boyfriends past. She understood the pain of being cheated on and firmly believed that someone who has been through a difficulty has a moral obligation to offer support to others facing the same issues. She also knew that Angie would not welcome knowing that her pain could soon be public knowledge, she would need some time to process her emotions.

After some deliberation, she went down to the wine cellar and selected an especially delicious Clarendon Hills Shiraz. She attached a note that read 'call when you feel like drinking this' and included her private cell number. Then she boxed it up neatly and called a messenger service to deliver it to the Bryant home. She only hoped Angie would trust her and call.

Jonathan returned home that evening to find a distraught Jensen in his study. Jennifer told him the man had shown up about an hour earlier and wouldn't talk to anyone but him.

"You'd better tell Max to hold supper for a bit," Jonathan told her with a kiss on her cheek. "Go ahead and eat without me if you want to, Darling. I don't know how long this might take." He smiled when Jennifer handed him a tray with a bucket of ice, two glasses, and a bottle of bourbon.

"She threw me out, Jonathan. What am I going to do? I'd give anything to take it back." Jensen looked terrible and Jonathan immediately felt for him. He knew how he would feel if he ever lost Jennifer, especially if he caused the split. He poured them each a small shot of bourbon and sat down opposite Jensen.

"What happened, Jensen? You and Angie always seemed solid. But something must have happened. Otherwise, you wouldn't have strayed, drunk or not."

"It was the baby, it was my working too much, it was everything and nothing. I never doubted how much she loved me or how much I love her, but at some point, a really good night's sleep took the place of connecting with each other. It's like we were still walking side by side but never taking the time to look at each other. I miss her, Jonathan. I missed her even before this happened. I don't know how to get her back."

"That's because you can't get her back," Jonathan told him bluntly. "You can't control her behavior. All you can do is create an environment that she will hopefully want to come back to."

"I want what you and Jennifer have. Your marriage is fireproof. How do I do that?"

"Marriage is only fireproof if you work to make it so. I knew I was in love with Jennifer within the first half-hour of knowing her. But 'in love' wasn't the same thing as loving her. And it's definitely not the same as being married to her. In love is easy, marriage takes constant work. How long has it been since you told Angie you loved her?"

"I tell her every night."

"Jensen, she needs to hear it somewhere other than the night. You saying it every night is habit. If you ask me when was the last time I said I love you to Jennifer, I would have to think about it. Because it's not on a schedule. But I can guarantee you it was today because 'I' feel the lack if I don't say it. Because she is oxygen, she is my food and water, she is necessary.

"If I lost every nickel I have, every business and building with my name on it, but I still had Jennifer I would still count myself the richest man on earth. But if I lost her, none of the rest of this would mean anything. That is what Angie wants to feel from you. She needs to be needed. Not just wanted. Needed."

"I kind of thought you would commiserate with me a little first, Jonathan," Jensen spoke wryly. He knew he needed to hear what Jonathan was saying. But still, it was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that he had failed Angie long before he cheated on her.

"You want commiseration or do you want to try to save your marriage? You need to be her safe place when she needs to cry. You need to know her every thought, her every dream. You have to let her hold you so you can learn how she needs to be touched.

"But before you can do any of that, you need to serve her. You kicked her world out from under her and made everything about her life a hundred times more difficult. If you want to rebuild that bridge then you need to make things easier for her now."

"I'll do anything."

"Then tomorrow you go to her and you ask her what you can do to make her day easier. Not her life, just her day. Start small. And whatever she asks of you, no matter how menial or stupid you think it might be, you do it. Willingly, cheerfully even. Show her she can trust you with small things so she will see she can trust you with big ones again.

"And, Jensen. I don't want to see you at work until you've resolved it. You give her as much time as she needs and your job will be there. Tonight you can stay in the guest house."

"Thank you, Jonathan. You've been a good friend. And a good boss." Jensen stood up and shook Jonathan's hand then walked out of the room, leaving his drink untouched on the table.

In the kitchen, Jennifer watched as Jensen made his way across the driveway to disappear into the guest house. Earlier he had seemed a man defeated, but now he walked with his shoulders squared. There was renewed purpose in his stride and she knew Jonathan had found the words Jensen needed to hear. She felt him step up behind her and his arms wrap around her. She leaned back into his embrace, secure as always in the strength and shelter of his love.

"Would you like me to fix you a plate, Darling?" She asked him now.

"What I would really like is to take you upstairs. Did you eat?"

"No, I was waiting for you. But I'm fine, I would rather be with you right now." She turned to face him and lead him up the staircase to their room.

"I should lock up."

"Max will lock up when he sees we are gone. Come to bed. I've been missing you tonight."

"Darling," he stopped on the stairs and turned to face her, to look directly into her eyes. "I love you. I never want you to go a minute without knowing that. It's too easy to lose sight of it in the day to day noise. "

"Jonathan, I have never known anything less than your complete devotion to me, and to our marriage. You show me every day how much you value it. How much you value me. Do you remember on our honeymoon, when you told me that you had transferred ten million dollars to a Swiss account in my name alone 'just in case'? I thought you were crazy, or that maybe it was meant to be like a settlement if our marriage didn't last. But then I figured out that you were actually making me an equal partner in your life. And what holds us together isn't familiarity, or money, or even vows. What keeps us together is the strength of our love for each other. As long as we remember that then nothing can ever come between us. Which is really just my long-winded writer's way of saying 'I love you too'."

Their kiss was soft and tender and very, very slow. It felt, in many ways, like the kiss they had shared that day in the chapel when the Reverend had declared them man and wife. But there was so much more between them now. Their shared history, the adventures and dangers they had faced together, the thousands of times they had made love over the past twelve years. All of it was there in their kiss. And the heat was there too, still banked but ready to ignite and consume them again.

It was always like this between them. It had been this way from the first night they spent together and Jonathan hoped it would continue until their bones were too brittle to risk contact. Even then he suspected she would be worth risking multiple fractures for.

Jonathan followed her up the stairs, through their bedroom, and into her dressing room. Her tri-paneled mirror reflecting them both back hundreds of times as they slowly undressed each other. Jonathan loved to see her in elegant vintage negligees, loved the texture of the soft furs and feathers trimming them when he touched her. Tonight he chose a gown of morning glory blue the exact shade of his eyes. It was a deceptively simple style, with short puffed sleeves and a scooped drawstring neckline that closed a very deep vee between her breasts. The alternating bands of thin cotton gauze and feminine lace elevated the ordinary fabric into something altogether lovely.

He slipped on a pair of lounge pants of the same blue cotton. Sometimes they laughed together over the idea of putting on nightclothes that would likely be abandoned on the floor within minutes, but half the fun was in undressing each other in bed. The touching, stroking each other, fingers seeking out the edges of their clothes. Teasing forays past hems to find warm skin, only to retreat seconds later then advance again.

Jennifer used gardenia scented paper to line the drawers of her lingerie chest so the faint floral perfume clung to her clothes. Even when Jonathan was a very old man he would smell the scent of gardenias and be instantly transported back in his memory to these long pleasure-soaked nights with her.

Her fingernails scratched lightly at his chest hair. She had a way of touching him that could seem perfectly ordinary and innocent but somehow drove him crazy with desire. He had yet to figure out how she did it. But then, trying was so very pleasurable. Now her hands moved down his chest in small increments. She started near his shoulders, nails dragging across his skin, dipping down into the thick mat of hair then back up again. Every so often one nail would skip lightly over his nipple as if by accident, causing a sharply indrawn breath and a jolt of pleasure to streak through him.

He was achingly hard and desperate for her before she had progressed even a third of the way down his chest, her knees on either side of his hips making him crazy. She was so near that he could feel the ghost-touches of her skin brushing against his straining shaft but all he could do was stroke her hips and wait helplessly for her to move over him.

Jennifer loved the feeling of being astride him. So often, it was the other way around, his weight so familiar across her body, and the friction of him moving within her. But when she knelt over him, when she took control of both their satisfaction, it was different somehow. The feeling was more primal, she felt like an amazonian warrior-goddess. From above it was easier to see his face. To watch the play of emotions, from desire, to need, to fulfillment, Right now his look was bordering on desperation as she rocked her hips enough to brush against him very lightly several times in succession.

The sheer curtains fluttered in the late evening breeze, carrying the scent from the lilac bushes along the fence up to their room, but they were too wrapped up in each other to notice. Jennifer had, at last, moved to take him inside her. But his need was only heightened by the delicious resistance. With every movement, her muscles tightened on him, holding him within the sweetest of prisons. It was a confinement he never wanted to leave and his heart pounded so hard that she could see it's movement on his skin. His hands gripped her hips almost painfully. Tomorrow she would wear the marks of his passion proudly on her pale skin, even though he would exclaim over the faint bruises and avoid holding her hips again for several days.

She loved that she was able to drive him to the same dizzying heights he always brought her to. Loved to hear the same cries she heard from herself, coming from him. Sounds beyond words, sounds of hunger and passion that filled the longings in them both. He poured himself into her with a harsh cry that sent her tumbling over the precipice into her own release.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily. He smoothed his hands up and down her back, the slight sheen of sweat that covered them both drying in the lilac scented breeze. The night was warm but he still felt her shiver on top of him so he groped blindly for the blanket to wrap around her. Even in her drowsy satisfied state, she burrowed closer to him, laying her head under his chin and sighing with contentment.

Chapter Two

"Jonathan? So it looks like it is Huawei Tech. They are worried about Hart Telecomm having a foothold in China. There is some whispering that Huawei may have accepted a sweetheart deal with the government to make sure Chinese telecommunications remain firmly in Chinese hands." Lou Phillips spoke seriously, well aware of what pushback from the government at this late date meant. So did Jonathan.

"Should we cancel the deal altogether? I don't want to throw good money after bad if Xi is going to stall our permits and licenses." It had taken millions of dollars, both Hart Industries' and Jonathan's personal funds, in under the table payments just to secure the rights to operate in China. Famously not welcoming to foreign business interests, it now appeared as though Xi Jinping had decided to scoop up as much money as he could and then freeze them out by denying them the paperwork they would need to actually move forward.

Fortunately, they hadn't broken ground on the new facilities yet. The land itself would be a tax write-off until it became profitable to sell. Hart Industries stockholders would take a small hit but the parent company was large enough that they could absorb the loss. Jonathan had known that trying to break into the communist-controlled market was a risky move. His instincts were not often wrong but he never wagered more than they could afford to lose.

It was precisely this reason that he had opened the Swiss account for Jennifer a dozen years ago. One that he added to every year, currently it was worth was well over a hundred million dollars. If anything happened to him Jennifer would still be a very wealthy woman, and if anything happened to his fortune they had a safety net that would never be at risk. He had also provided generously for her in his will of course, but this debacle with Huawei was a perfect example of how quickly things could shift. To his mind, the Swiss account was inviolate. It was Jennifer's safety net and he would never take a single dollar out of it.

As soon as he hung up with Lou, Jonathan called Abe Solomon, but he had not been able to make any headway on tracing the emails back yet. Jennifer was still asleep when he slipped out of bed and stepped into the shower but by the time he started to dry off he could her voice from the bedroom.

"Of course Angie. Whatever you need, we are here for you." There was a brief pause before she continued. "Would you rather come here? There's plenty more wine in the cellar." Jonathan could hear her soft laughter. "We could always break out the tequila shots. No, I understand completely. Yes, and I'll have Max prep some lemon wedges just in case." She laughed again and hung up the phone.

"Darling, Angie and I are going to have lunch here this afternoon. Would you mind sort of making yourself scarce for a couple of hours? I think she needs a little girl talk."

"I know that kind of girl talk. It's usually lubricated by several bottles of wine." He smiled at her. "The Shiraz was a nice touch Darling, but may I suggest the Chateau de Parnay Chenin Blanc. I just put a case in the cellar. I think you will like it, it's very light with a zesty spice finish. And of course, I can stay clear, Darling. I think Angie needs you more than I do right now. You can assure her that Abe is doing everything possible to make certain that the photos will never see the light of day."

"Thank you, Darling. You always know what to say." Jennifer went to take her shower. Jonathan loved this particular time of day. He usually left before she showered, frequently before she even got up, so he didn't often get to see her in the shower. A couple of years ago when they remodeled their bathroom they replaced the frosted glass shower doors with clear ones. Now he could stand at his mirror and watch her bathing while he shaved. Of all of the beautiful views around the house, this was his absolute favorite.

"Angie, I'm so glad you came. I've asked Max to serve lunch in my office so we can have privacy." Jennifer ushered her friend into a room Angie hadn't even noticed during previous visits. The hallway that opened up behind the front staircase was easy to overlook. It led to a large suite that had been a pair of bedrooms with a jack-and-jill bathroom and a sitting room. During the remodel, they had opened it up into one large space and a powder room.

Jennifer had claimed this for her own, finally moving her cherrywood desk out of the living room alcove. Compared to the masculine feeling of much of the house with its wood paneling and heavy furniture, she decorated her office with light colors and casual pieces. She and Jonathan had found a beautiful antique Aubusson rug in pale pinks and creams at a street market in Paris and she decorated the room around it. Everything was old and a bit battered, but it was a calm, pleasant space to work or rest in.

She and Angie sat back in the pink club chairs flanking one side of the carved fireplace with its chippy white paint and winged cherubs on the sides that they had found at that same street market. Two glasses of white wine rested on the small coffee table, the bottle resting in a bucket of ice beside them.

"Thank you for the invitation, Jennifer. I don't think I could face the attention that comes with eating in public with you. I love you but you do attract a lot of attention and press.

"I don't know what to do. I know he loves me, I just don't know if I can get past this. I feel so betrayed. How am I supposed to trust him again?" Angie was distraught, the most recent of a number of tissues balled up in her fist. "Oh Jennifer, I want to take him back but I don't know if I can."

"Angie, I don't want to pry, but I'm your friend and I'd like to help if I can. About a year before I met Jonathan I was dating a man called Elliott who cheated on me, so I can understand a little bit of what you are going through."

"What did you do?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly the same situation. I found out that Elliott had cheated on me numerous times and I had no faith that he intended to stop. I know that Jensen truly regrets what he did and will never allow himself to be in a situation like that again. Plus, we weren't married. You have a child to think about. And I'm sure my goddaughter would prefer to have her mother and father stay together if possible." Jennifer smiled at the memory of Aislynn's christening when she held the baby for the sacrament. The look of surprise on her tiny face when the priest traced the sign of the cross on her forehead and sprinkled her with holy water was adorable and Jennifer was quick to wipe her off before she could begin to cry.

"So you think I should take him back?"

"I think you should forgive him. For your own peace of mind. Whether you take him back or not you will feel better if you can find a way to forgive him. And I'm sure it will be better for Aislynn if her parents aren't at war with each other." Jennifer spoke kindly but with conviction. She couldn't bear to see any of her friends hurting and she was especially invested in the Bryant family since they had asked her to stand as Aislynn's Godmother.

"He showed up at the house this morning, he said that Jonathan told him not to come back to work until he made things right with me so that's what he intended to do. He asked me how he could make my day easier. Jennifer, he even knocked on the door instead of just walking in, like he was trying to respect my space. I didn't know how to respond. Finally, I asked him to stay with Aislynn all day so I could run errands and he agreed." Angie looked surprised and Jennifer got the impression that Jensen had not previously been the biggest help around the house.

"It sounds like he is trying to show you he loves you, not just tell you. Love isn't just the words you say. It isn't something you are in and it's not someplace to fall. Love is something that you do. It's a verb, not an adjective. And to make a strong marriage takes dedication and effort. I think Jensen is figuring out that it isn't just saying some words and then you can coast." Angie looked thoughtful at Jennifer's words.

"Maybe I've been coasting too. I guess I thought we got married and now it should be easy. I think I've been taking him for granted for a long time. As long as he was beside me I figured everything was okay and it didn't matter that we didn't really see each other." She spoke slowly as she considered things she never had before.

"It sounds like it's time to look. Perhaps you can see him with new eyes. Not eyes that take for granted, and not eyes that judge and see only the pain he caused you, but eyes that accept that neither of you is perfect and start again." Jennifer patted her friend's hand with an understanding smile. "And maybe it's time to head home and talk to him?"

"I think it is." Angie sounded thoughtful. "Thank you, Jennifer. For being understanding, but not too understanding. You said some things I needed to hear and gave me a lot to think about. Everyone else has just been telling me I was right to throw him out, that it's all his fault and I should divorce him and take him for everything he's got. You are my only friend that cared enough to give me some hard truths. And you are right, I think I'm going to go home and have a real conversation with my husband, maybe for the first time ever." She seemed much happier as she walked out of the house than she had walking in.

Jennifer left a note for Jonathan and left to run an errand of her own. He loved to hear her sing so for their anniversary this year she was going to sing for him. She had been secretly meeting with a voice coach and had made arrangements with a very special musician to play for their anniversary party. She was even more excited about this party than usual, this year she was really going to surprise him.

Jonathan was at home when she returned and tonight it was her turn to hold him close and share her revelations from the day. She was more thankful than ever that she and Jonathan made it a consistent priority to talk to each other. To not allow anger and fears fester. There was nothing that she felt would be 'too much' to entrust to his hands. No matter what she told him she knew her heart was safe with him and she tried very hard to show him that his fears and dreams were just as safe with her.

"Let's eat quickly," she told him now. "I've been dreaming of being with you all day. I want us to get lost in each other, to be so close that we can't tell where you end and I begin, as close to you as I can be. I want to make love until the sun comes up and then goes down again. I want to be with you, skin on skin until there is not even a shadow of distance between us." Her words were spoken against his ear and the very vibration of her voice stirred him. He led her up the stairs, calling Max over his shoulder to bring their supper up on a tray in an hour or so.

He understood exactly what she was feeling since he had felt the same yesterday. That sense of the fragility in a marriage, the need to be ever vigilant to maintain those bonds above all other obligations. The necessity of believing their love would transcend time, that there was only one truly great love in a person's life and they were it for each other.

"I want to breathe you until I can feel you in my blood." She told him urgently as they tumbled into bed still half dressed.

"You are my sweet addiction, I want to wrap the moon around us until you are my only reality." He spoke with his lips against her skin as though he couldn't bear to stop kissing her for even a second. "I can dream of no greater gift when my time comes than to die of pleasure while making love to you."

"Then St. Peter had better have room in that chariot for two." She responded tartly. He loved the very mercurialness of her moods. He never knew what she might say from second to second. Here she was sassing St. Peter when only a moment ago she was almost in tears.

"Darling, if you were a drink you'd be single barrel bourbon on ice. Smooth with a kick. A chill and a burn all at the same time." He told her now, tiny kisses nipping at her neck in that sweet spot he knew made her crazy.

"Jonathan, you're so corny sometimes." She teased gently.

"Yes, I know. I never want to be less than completely over the top for you. But in this case, I stole the line. It was from a song I heard on the radio coming home this afternoon. Someone called Brad Paisley, and boy does he understand you. Whomever he was singing about must have been your twin in another life because he called her 'sunshine mixed with a little hurricane' and I can't think of a better description of you."

His kisses had moved to the hollow spot at the base of her throat causing her to shiver in his arms. Suddenly she couldn't come up with a clever response, all of her attention was focused on the southward journey of his lips across her skin.

"Turn off the lights." He murmured now, his kisses tickling her collarbone. The room was plunged into blackness, the moonless night not giving even a glimmer of light to spill in through the big windows, and they were too deep in the canyon to see the glow of lights from Los Angeles.

"Don't you want me to turn on the small lamp in my dressing room?" It was so dark that she couldn't see even the outline of his body covering hers. She knew how much he loved watching her reactions, loved seeing her come apart at his lightest touch.

"Shh, my lips know where to go." He assured her, proving it by moving down to the narrow valley between her breasts. He licked the trace of sweat that had gathered there in the sultry heat of the July night. The mere fact that she couldn't see him at all contributed to her heightened arousal, she never knew where the next kiss might land even though she knew their eventual destination.

"My hands know how to find yours and trace them back to your lips. You are my Northern Star and I would be able to find my way to you in the darkest night, the roughest seas. You will always be the lighthouse calling me home." His tongue dipped suddenly into the shell of her navel and she almost cried out at the pleasure of the unexpected touch. "No matter where I am I can feel your breath on my skin. I hear your heart beat in every breeze and taste your kiss on every word that falls from my lips."

"Jonathan," his name was a breath on her lips as he kissed the soft, sweet, center of her. "Jonathan," she repeated again and again like a lifeline until it became wordless syllables and he took her to that place where nothing mattered but his touch. The coyotes and night birds were the only creatures awake to hear her cries of passion in the darkness.

Across town, Angie and Jensen were talking softly together, holding hands on the sofa. Angie had been pleasantly surprised to arrive home and find Aislynn fed and bathed and already dressed in a lightweight sleepsack. Jensen had unloaded the dishwasher for her and when she sat down he brought her a plate of her favorite takeout Chinese food.

"I had to order delivery since I can't cook anything better than hot dogs." He had spoken with quiet sincerity, unlike the thinly veiled sarcasm she had come to expect. He held Aislynn while Angie ate, rocking her gently on his shoulder just the way she liked to fall asleep. And when Angie had finished her supper and went to put the baby to bed, Jensen took her dirty dishes, rinsed them, and loaded them into the dishwasher for her. He didn't turn on the television or check his cell phone when she returned but poured a glass of wine for each of them and asked about her day.

They talked late into the night. While the Harts were making love, the Bryants were rebuilding it. When Angie could no longer stifle her yawn, Jensen apologized for keeping her up so late and got ready to leave.

"You could stay here, on the sofa. You know, if you wanted too." Angie blurted out suddenly. Her cheeks were stained pink and she looked almost shy.

"I would like that very much, Jensen told her simply. They didn't speak as Angie fetched spare linens and they made up the sofa together. The easy camaraderie of the evening was gone as they each pondered the implications of this decision.

"Angie, may I kiss you goodnight?" He asked her. She couldn't speak but she gave him a small nod. He was in front of her in an instant but then time seemed to slow to a crawl. He took her face in his hands and brought his face close to hers with infinite tenderness. Her lips were parted but he made no attempt to enter. He just covered her lips with his own and kissed her for what seemed like hours.

She could feel the heat between them again, a fire she had thought was extinguished. But again he made no attempt to go further than this slow, sweet kiss. He kissed her until there was nothing in the world except his lips on hers. Until there was no oxygen beyond what they shared between them. He kissed her until, at last, she broke away.

"Goodnight, my love." He told her.

"Am I?" She asked him. "Am I still your love?" She didn't look angry or judgemental, only curious.

"Forevermore." He said honestly. She went to their bed and fell asleep with his simple answer echoing in her heart.

Chapter Three

"That's wonderful. I will fax you all the details. I can hardly wait, this is going to be the best one yet." Jennifer hung up the phone quietly, aware that the shower had shut off in the middle of her call and he surely heard at least part of her conversation. She thought back desperately, had she said anything that might give her away? She didn't think so.

"Who was on the phone?" He asked her casually, leaning into the room wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. A stray drop of water dripped from his hair to roll down his chest. She was mesmerized watching it track through the nest of hair, catching the light as it moved. Jonathan would have to be blind to miss the way she licked her lips and unconsciously pressed her knees together.

"Oh, it was Sister Domenica. She wanted to go over some of the details of the charity ball next month." She lied quickly. Jonathan had grown up in the Mission Street Orphanage and Sister Domenica had a tremendous influence on him. He credited her with instilling the love of learning that got him where he was today. Jennifer thought that the mention of her name would distract him sufficiently that he wouldn't question her further. She was a terrible liar. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes got big and panicky. It was only at poker that she could bluff successfully.

Jonathan was quite distracted, but it had nothing to do with her words and everything to do with the way she was staring at his body and he knew he would be going to work late this morning. It only took a few steps and he was standing at the edge of the bed. Directly in front of where Jennifer sat in her pretty, white nightgown, her hand still resting on the phone. She reached up slowly and touched the drop of water caught in the tangle of hair, the hair she delighted in dragging her nails through as he made love to her.

She traced the path of wetness back up to his shoulder where it had begun its journey, then ran her fingers through his wet hair. The dark brown strands were liberally sprinkled with salt and pepper now, just a bit heavier at the temples, making him look even more distinguished in his suit and tie.

It made him look rakish when it was rumpled from their lovemaking and she decided she would much rather see it disheveled just now. She very deliberately laid back on her pillows and opened her arms to him. The towel dropped forgotten on the floor as Jonathan moved into her welcoming embrace. He always made love to her generously, seeing to her total satisfaction before his own and today was no different. She knew the echoes of her cries would reverberate in the heavy late August air, right in through the big, open windows downstairs. And that Max would smile knowingly at them and make a point to mention how late it was when they finally made it to the breakfast table.

Jonathan knew she was lying about the phone call but he didn't care. He trusted Jennifer and whatever the call had been about was her business, he didn't need to pry. If it concerned him she would tell him in her own time. And then her hands were drowning out every distraction, and he surrendered himself completely to their dancing touch.

She was right, Max had commented that they might need a new alarm clock if the old one kept such terrible time that they were late to breakfast so often. Jonathan just smiled that secret smile at her, the smile that was no secret at all, it was known to lovers the world over. She didn't care how much Max teased. She was secure and happy in the cocoon of Jonathan's love. Plus, Angie had called yesterday to request another lunch date and this Angie sounded much happier than the sobbing woman she had counseled a month ago.

"Oh Jennifer, it's as if we are on our honeymoon again. Except, this time it's not just the incredible sex. He asks about my day and he actually listens to me. He looks in my eyes when I'm talking. And now at night while I'm getting Aislynn bathed and put to bed, he washes the dinner dishes for me. Once she's asleep he pours us a glass of wine and we cuddle on the couch and talk, no television, no cell phone, we just talk to each other about whatever comes to mind."

Jennifer and Angie were, once again, sitting in the comfortable pink chairs by the fireplace. They could smell the honeysuckle and jasmine that wrapped the small terrace outside the french doors Jennifer had thrown open. Jonathan had had this tiny little terrace built for her birthday last year and Max had planted flowering vines all around it that climbed and wound around the trellises until she had a secret spot where she could read or dream undisturbed.

"I'm so happy for you two. If you put in the effort then the honeymoon never ends. Jonathan is far and away, the best lover I've ever had. Not just technique, because anyone can learn that, but he listens. Really listens, to my words and to all of the things that have no words. He hears what my body tells him, it makes every time feel like the first time."

Jennifer was happy for her friends. Jensen and Angie had been a perfect fit right from the beginning. If they had known she was playing matchmaker back then they would have dug in their heels and refused. Instead, she waited for a company party and casually introduced them. The air around them practically crackled with the strength of their attraction to each other. Their respective dates that evening commiserated together over being ditched and then went home together for a night. The Bryants had been inseparable ever since.

"To make sure we don't get complacent again, every morning we ask each other 'what is one thing I can do today to serve you?' It's usually something simple like him asking me to have the car serviced, or I'll ask him to pick up the dry cleaning on his way home. But it reminds us to help each other, that we are a team.

"And since you and Jonathan are responsible for it, we wanted you to be the first to know ... we're having a baby. We only found out yesterday, I called you from the doctor's office. I'm a little less than three weeks along but I was pretty sure when I started getting sick whenever I smelled meat cooking. it was the same way with Aislynn. I know we're not supposed to tell anyone until we are past twelve weeks but you guys saved our marriage. This little guy, or girl, wouldn't exist without you."

The anniversary party was due to start any minute and Jennifer was nervous, more nervous than she had ever been before. Sure, she had sung in a few charity shows but that was always with someone else singing with her, and they were always amateurs like herself. This was her, all alone with a professio76`nal musician. And worst of all was that she couldn't let any of it show. She couldn't tell Jonathan that the butterflies in her stomach had been eaten by a herd of angry tyrannosaurs because she couldn't tell him why she was nervous. She only hoped she would be able to get through it once she was standing in front of him. His nearness gave her strength.

"Can I have everyone's attention please?" She tapped her wedding ring against the crystal champagne flute in her hand. The hundred or so friends milling about her living room turned to look at her next to the piano. "Jonathan, Darling, I know how much you love music so I have arranged some special entertainment for this evening. Happy anniversary, Darling. Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce Jim Brickman. The applause swelled as the pianist entered the room and took his place at Jonathan's piano. He winked at Jennifer and she took a deep breath as he played the opening bars of the song she had chosen. She looked only at Jonathan and began to sing.

"If there were no words, no way to speak

I would still hear you

If there were no tears, no way to feel inside

I'd still feel for you

And even if the sun refused to shine

Even if romance ran out of rhyme

You would still have my heart

Until the end of time

You're all I need, my love, my valentine

All of my life I have been waiting for

All you've given me

You've opened my eyes

And taught me how to love unselfishly

I've dreamed of this a thousand times before

And in my dreams I couldn't love you more

I will give you my heart

Until the end of time

You're all I need my love, my valentine

And even if the sun refused to shine

Even if romance ran out of rhyme

You would still have my heart

Until the end of time

'Cause all I need is you

My Valentine

You're all I need, my love,

My Valentine"

She finished singing still looking at Jonathan. When she had started his eyes widened in surprise. He had assumed the private concert was his gift. When he realized his real gift was Jennifer singing for him, he was both stunned and incredibly touched. He loved to hear her sing but she didn't often let people hear her unless it was for charity. He knew how much it took for her to stand up in front of all of their friends and sing without stopping. He held her close and kissed her long and slow as the applause gradually died down.

"Thank you, Darling." He whispered just for her. "I will treasure the memory of this always"

"I'll sing for you again soon. Cross my heart." She made the childish gesture of drawing an X over her left breast.

"Pinky swear?" He teased her, holding up his fist.

"Pinky swear." She answered him, a radiant smile on her face as she raised her own fist and hooked her pinky around his. Instead of releasing her pinky he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her little finger where it was joined to his.

That makes it a solemn vow." He told her with semi-mocking seriousness. "You can't back out now or you'll break out in hives and all of your hair will fall out."

"Will you still love me if all my hair falls out and I'm covered with ugly hives?" She teased him back.

"I will love you to my last breath. Everyone gets one perfect love in their life and you are mine. Even if you ever left me, I would go to my grave with your name on my lips." He spoke seriously but then a smile broke across his face. "Cross my heart." He copied her X shape over his heart then kissed her as if the hundred guests didn't exist and they were alone in the house. Fortunately, their friends were all used to the Harts frequent, spontaneous displays of affection and they simply went back to chatting amongst themselves or listening to the amazing skill Jim Brickman brought to Jonathan's old piano.

Chapter Four

"Darling, I can't face cleaning this up. Let's just sell the house." Jennifer had removed her dainty satin sandals but still looked stunning in her liquid metal gown of pale rose gold that set her hair aflame. Jonathan didn't speak but only knelt on the floor in front of her spot on the sofa taking each foot in turn and massaging it tenderly. As he manipulated her left foot the dress fell on either side of her thigh, the high slit revealing her long dancer's legs that he loved so much.

He dropped his head to kiss her instep, her ankle, her shapely calf. Every brush of his lips brought him higher along her leg. He kissed all the way to the top of the slit in the fragile fabric and then he kissed along the scrollwork of tiny glass beads so perfectly matched to the metallic shimmer of the fabric that they were almost invisible until she moved. Then the beads caught the light to reveal an undulating pattern of swirls and arcs.

The silk organza lining slid over her skin with the lightest sibilant whisper despite the weight of the beading. He seemed to have a specific destination in mind as his lips traced a path up her body, not distracted by even his usual playgrounds. His body covered hers as he moved. Up the delicate, beaded bodice and the expanse of soft skin it didn't cover. Along her collarbone where she waited to feel the thin straps of her gown slip off of her shoulders. But he didn't touch them. Instead, he kept moving, up her throat and along her jaw, all the way to her ear.

"Dance with me." The low growl in his voice was half arousal, half command and she was helpless to resist after the long, slow seduction of his kisses. Standing, he held out his hand to lift her to her feet and touched the small remote that activated the sound system. She heard her own voice coming from the concealed speakers and she looked at him in wonder, the question plain in her eyes.

"Jim set it up during his soundcheck. He said he thought I should have more than just the memories of this night. He didn't tell you he was recording?" Jennifer just shook her head. She couldn't decide if she was embarrassed listening to herself, or proud that she had done it. Probably a little of both.

She and Jonathan were both competent dancers, they loved dancing together and had years of practicing on every available dance floor or just twirling around the living room, they could foxtrot and swing with the best of them. But tonight they just held each other, swaying softly in time with the beautiful song Jennifer was singing on the stereo. Jonathan clicked the button that activated the upstairs speakers in their bedroom and they danced their way up the staircase arm in arm.

Clothes seemed to melt away piece by piece as they danced to Jim's beautiful piano playing before they went to bed and made love accompanied by Jennifer singing her devotion to him again.

"I want you to sing for me every anniversary." He told her, feeling the exquisite friction as he seated himself inside the furnace of her body. A sigh escaped her lips with the slow press of him filling her. Their dance went on long into the hot, August night.

The sun was high in the cloudless sky when Max brought up their breakfast tray just as the phone rang on the bedside table. There was an awkward moment as Max was right in the middle of handing off the heavy bedtable and both he and Jonathan had their hands full getting it placed and steady but eventually they got it sorted out.

"Jonathan, it's Abe. I think I have a lead on those emails. It wasn't easy to sneak through the Chinese government's firewalls. Let me tell you, Area 51 has got nothing on these guys when it comes to secrecy. I've traced them back as far as Huawei Technologies but I haven't isolated which computer yet. When I do, I have a worm program I can insert that will isolate and destroy any emails or photos that correspond to specific keywords. I can't stop it if it's already been disseminated but if it's only been sent to Jensen we might be able to contain it."

"Thanks, Abe. Let me know if you get more." Jonathan hung up the phone. "I'm sorry, Darling. I told Abe to use my private phone because I didn't want the Bryant's personal issues going through the company phones, just in case." He sat back and accepted the bite of pancake she offered him.

Max had the best fluffy pancakes, He once told Jennifer that the secret was seltzer water in the batter but she had never been able to duplicate the height and flavor he could produce. She loaded another bite onto her fork then speared a piece of strawberry and savored the mouthful. She didn't know where Max found fresh strawberries so late in the summer but they were perfect, just tart enough to balance the sweetness of the maple syrup and powdered sugar.

"Is there anything better than Max's pancakes in bed on Sunday morning?" She asked him, prepping another bite.

"I can think of one thing." Jonathan leered comically at her over the tray and she laughed happily.

"Jonathan, not before the crossword." His laughter joined hers as he handed over the Arts & Leisure section of the paper. "Just don't take too long."

September dawned smokey in Mandeville Canyon. The wildfires that plagued Southern California every year had come quite close, at one point flames were visible over Canyonback Ridge. The Harts had evacuated to the Bel-Air Hotel for a few worrisome days but fortunately, the smokejumpers did an amazing job of turning back the fire and they were able to go home again to nothing worse than a few singed trees.

On the morning of the Fall Equinox Jennifer blinked sleepily awake to find Jonathan gazing at her. He was propped on one elbow watching her sleep and he reached across the small space between them to lift a stray curl away from her eyes.

"You're staring at me."

"I'm looking at you. I like looking at you."

"When I'm asleep?"

"Always. Look over there." He jerked his chin towards the corner and she spotted a large flat parcel wrapped in silver paper that was printed all over with 'Happy Anniversary'.

"What is this for? You already gave me my anniversary gift. And I love it." She said, touching the gold and diamond heart on a gold chain so fine and delicate that it was almost invisible against her skin.

"Oh. Well, that one must be for next year then. Never mind. What do you suppose Max is making for breakfast."

"Jonathan, that's not fair. You know I love surprises."

"Then how about if we call this an addendum to your anniversary gift then." He grinned as Jennifer scrambled out of bed.

"What is it?"

"A new car." He answered dryly.

"It's not very heavy." She tore the paper to reveal a square canvas painted with a stylized red heart against a field of sky blue crossing the square was a pink line that looped to spell out 'Valentine' across the heart.

"I had it commissioned after your beautiful song." He explained amid her kisses.

"I'm going to hang it in my office. Right next to my desk where I can see it every day. Thank you, Darling. I love it."

"You just remember your promise to sing for me every year."

"Cross my heart."

1 note · View note