#i never got a bill. i did however get an email that my account will be frozen until I do pay it

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

Things you just love to say when you’re setting up a meeting:

Please share anything that will help me prepare for our meeting.

Im looking to change some classes in the second session for fall semester and also switch minors. And see if taking a pass/fail for a class would be better for me

#actual response to that question right there #also. reason 4826402947 that I cannot stand this school and think it’s so poorly run: #i got an adhd assessment (worst experience of my life) which was 150$. I would like to pay this. i wanted to last year #i never got a bill. i did however get an email that my account will be frozen until I do pay it #there is nothing on my account that I can pay. it’s not lumped in with my tuition. there’s no account with who texted me #tested*. there is literally nothing there. other than a hold #so that’s another thing I’ll have to ask my advisor tomorrow though I don’t know if he’ll know #soup talks

[hasufin]

Stupid HSA tricks. OR, "Give me my money"

I've had this email sitting in my inbox for a while now, reminding me that I have a balance in my Health Savings Account.

Now, for non-Americans, a Health Savings Account - HSA - is one of those half-assed compromises to make our hellscape of a healthcare system very slightly more tolerable. The idea is, some of your own income is deducted from your paycheck before taxes, and you may use that money exclusively for medical care without paying income tax on it.

Of course, this can't just be handled by the government. No sense in doing that. When this income is deducted from your paycheck, it is graciously held by a private company which will kindly dole it out to you when you submit acceptable requests. In the interim, of course, they will hold onto your money and invest it as they see fit, garner the profits from it.

If this sounds like a scam, it totally is. In fact, when this was first introduced these companies also had "policies" such that if you didn't use your HSA money before the end of the year, they just got to keep anything you had left. I believe the laws were changed to put a stop to THAT.

However, my previous experiences with this scam informed my general feeling on the entire system. One of my previous employers had an HSA such that we had these debit cards with which ostensibly we could make any medical purchase directly. However, if there was a dispute regarding any payment, they would lock the accounts for everyone in our company. And, this HSA denied Every. Single. Claim. No matter how obviously it was qualified, the first couple of times you submitted a claim, it would be denied as unauthorized. Which meant everyone had their accounts locked all the time.

So, anyway. With my current employer there's an HSA. As a matter of personal policy I don't participate - even if they're a legit, ethically-run service, the reality is I'm only saving a pittance in income tax for a huge pain in the ass. But somehow it turns out I have $500 in my HSA, which has rolled over year after year.

I tried to pull it out for some dental work, um, back in 2020. And that never resulted in me getting a check or anything. At the time I was busy and just shrugged and went on with my life.

Today, having blown the cost of a small car on four teeth, I decided to get that $500 out of the account. And thus ensued...

First, I did not recall the password to my account. And I did not write it down, because I had zero intention of using that account once I got my money out. No problem, reset password.

They send me a password link. The link also tells me the text of the security question. I vaguely recall their security questions were off-the-wall stuff I don't have any sort of answer for. (I do not give my mother's actual maiden name for that kind of question, but I do have a specific answer I give for it.) But this was a "Uh, what?". And bear in mind, there was clearly an answer in their system.

So I'm trying to come up with the security question, and figured it out on the third try. So I get the password reset and...

They're sending me an authorization code. Right.

I get the auth code and finally I'm actually in.

First, I look at the old claim and it's just listed as "unpaid". Why was it unpaid? No reason! It just wasn't paid. Not denied, not unauthorized or not qualified. They just didn't pay! Gosh, I wish it worked like that with my own bills!

So, come to find out after much digging, they've got "Request reimbursement" and "Add a claim". The former is - supposedly - the one where you get money from them. The latter is a "courtesy" to help you track your medical bills. So adding a claim has no bearing on the money you have in your HSA, it's just you writing stuff down. In spite of being identical to the reimbursement section.

Okay. Now I think I need to request reimbursement on this claim.

Denied. No authorized account for that claim. They rolled the money over and now I can only get paid for stuff which happens during this calendar year. Fine. I have a current medical bill where I blew WAY more than $500 out of pocket.

I put that in, and request reimbursement. No, wait, I don't. Because first you have to put the request in and save it. THEN you go into the request and tell the system you want paid. Because, apparently, people will put in a request but NOT want paid. Sure, that makes sense.

I request reimbursement. And I want them to mail me a paper check, thank you. Yes, I know it will incur a fee. And no, I will not "pwetty pwease let us have access to your bank account it's faster and easier and we're totally secure and definitely don't use this as a means to collect even more saleable information on you."

I request a check. And within thirty seconds I get an email telling me the funds have been "returned" because they tried to make a payment and it did not work. Which is really fucking fast for delivering a check, let me tell you.

And there is no further guidance on what to do. The website says the request is "not approved" but no information on what that means. I request to contact a representative. Which involved navigating a chatbot and repeatedly telling it that, no, it has not identified my problem and DO NOT redirect me to a page which talks about something else.

I finally get a human on the chat function. Who tells me that from their end everything looks fine, they just need to review the request and I'll get the check in 7-10 business days. Which would be GREAT except i have nothing official to indicate that. The rep claims the system is mistakenly telling people requests are being denied and IT is aware. Which is kind of suspicion in an industry which routinely denies valid requests anyway. So of course their system "mistakenly" says requests are denied.

Since I trust this exactly not at all, I ask for something official, as a chat in the company's website is not a legally actionable record. But of course there's no way to do this. I can download or copy and past the chat, which is equivalent to me writing out a text file.

So, I'm probably not ever getting my money.

[anickycrown]

A Take on the 21st Century Dear John Letter

Dear John, I'm sitting here, at that walnut table you had to have, sending this to your work email because you couldn't even manage to leave your desk for our anniversary. Our third anniversary! What is wrong with you!? Six months ago, you said you were going to try to get that promotion, and news flash, Gary from Accounting is going to get it. I know I said to go for it, and I've been supporting you, cleaning the house, paying the bills, cooking all the meals. However, you're not helping me in the slightest, and I never see you anymore. I work a 9-5 too, it's not that hard to take out the trash. Yesterday, my mother came over and continued to badger me about when we're going to get married. I looked at her like she was crazy, and I realized I've been crazy too. I can't keep doing this. You're a really funny person, and you have a sweet side that's sort of hidden from people who don't know you. I know you care about me, but it's not enough. Sometimes I want to rip my hair out because you don't take anything seriously. You've been cagey about this pursuing this promotion whenever I ask, and you avoid taking responsibility. You're an adult; I'm an adult, we should be able to communicate and work our problems out in a healthy manner, but you're always dismissing my concerns and giving me empty apologies and promises. John, you said we would get married after you got the promotion, but did you just not want to commit? I thought you would make the effort to have a nice dinner with me on our anniversary, after the rough patch that's been the last six months, but obviously you're prioritizing being a paperpusher over our relationship, if you even remembered it was coming up. I'm fed up with having to deal with this. I don't have the energy to keep investing myself in "us" just to be reminded of how little I matter to you. I don't have the capacity to be a housekeeper, personal chef, and laundress to the ENTIRE household, and I shouldn't have to! Eventually, you'll have to be a functional adult, but I'm not staying until you figure it out. Good Ridance,

Your new Ex

#creative writing #breakup #letters #ickywroteit #slayyyyy #dear john

[cobaltleaf]

College was hard. I couldn’t leave my dorm, I couldn’t go to class. I forgot how to talk to people, I wasn’t making friends. I got this email saying I was on academic probation. I didn’t even get to drop out, they kicked me out. So I went back home. It was just me and my mom. The house was empty. The dining room had become a storage closet, the table was covered in unopened letters and envelopes. Half of the letters were for the gallery, addressed to my dad. Unpaid bills, unsigned notices, collection fees. I guess he never updated the gallery with his New York residence. And it’s not like money was a problem for him. That was something we always had. He was just doing what he always did, leaving other people to clean up his mess. I didn’t see him much growing up. My mom and him divorced when I was young. After a few weeks at home I asked her about the notices. She told me they started coming in while I was in school and eventually she just stopped opening them. I thought about calling him, but I didn’t really have that kind of relationship with him. He had his own life. Instead, I called the other owner, Mark. I’ve known Mark since I was a kid. He was so excited when I called. I asked him what was going on with my dad and the gallery. He didn’t say much over the phone but he invited me to come down and have lunch.

So I drove down to L.A. I rented out this shitty motel and stayed in a smoker’s room. I felt so cool. I remember I got a pack of cigarettes just to smoke on the bed. I barely got through a cigarette before I got nauseous. I was such a dweeb. But for maybe the first time in my whole life, I felt like everything was going to be ok.

When I met with Mark, he told me what I already knew. My dad hadn’t been to the gallery in almost a decade, and he had no interest in what was going on with it. He did however close one of his bank accounts that was tied to a rental piece in the gallery. It took a few months but Mark eventually figured it out. I offered to reimburse him but he just looked at me and said “I’m in his debt, not the other way around.” I spent the month hanging out at the gallery with Mark. I researched artists, mapped out where their work was being displayed, I sat in lectures at different art schools and spoke with students. I met this one kid who designed the craziest sculptures. His notebook was full of crazy insane doodles. I told Mark we needed to display his stuff and Mark was just like, down. After that, I never looked back. 

I don’t know what else to call it other than luck. You grow up hearing people talk about ‘the dream’. After my first year at the gallery, we hosted a solo exhibit in Tulum with one of our artists, Silo. There was ketamine, MDMA, sandy beaches. I remember sitting on the rooftop watching the sunset, Mark was sunburnt, drinking a beer with a Cubs cap on. I looked out at the white haze before me. And in that moment I knew was living it. That dream people always talk about.

And then, two years ago I got a call from my uncle. It was a sunny afternoon in August. When I picked up the phone, all I heard was wheezing and gagging. He could barely get the words out. My dad. He killed himself. My whole world, I collapsed. I know I wasn’t close with my dad. I spent my life learning to accept that. And it’s so naive to say, and it’s hard for me to even admit, but I really believed that one day, he was just going to knock on my door and like, want to be my dad.

[boldlyvoid]

Million Dollar Man | chapter two

18+

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)

word count: 3.4K

a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est

Chapter Two | Masterlist

She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.

Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.

Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.

She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.

All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.

She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.

But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.

He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”

He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”

She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”

He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.

She doesn’t accept it just yet.

It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.

“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”

He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.

Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”

“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”

Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”

She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”

Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.

It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.

“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.

“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”

“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.

She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”

“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.

“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”

“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”

“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”

“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”

“Yes please,” she smiles.

“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”

“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.

—

They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.

Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.

For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.

He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.

He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.

They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.

“How many gifts is this now?”

“We’re at 5 out of 24.”

She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”

“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.

“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.

The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.

“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”

“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.

“He lets her choose,” he whispers.

“He rescues her,” she corrects him.

“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.

It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”

“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.

“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”

“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.

“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”

She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”

“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”

She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”

“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”

“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”

She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”

He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”

“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”

He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.

As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”

He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…

“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.

“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”

With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.

“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”

“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”

He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”

She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”

He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”

He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.

She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.

“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”

He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”

“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”

Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.

She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.

“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.

“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”

“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.

“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”

“Daddy’s girl.”

He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.

She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.

He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”

“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.

“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”

For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.

“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”

“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.

She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”

“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.

“Only if you let me wash the front too?”

She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.

Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.

Permanent tag list:

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Sugar daddy fic (Some tags didn't work)

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #sugar daddy spencer #perv!spencer #mdm

[unmaskedagain]

Agent Marinette

Okay I have struggled all week with a massive case of Writers block and today I beat it. This a crossover fic. Guess it by the end.

In retrospect, Marinette should’ve realized eventually other forces outside of Paris would take an interest in the masked heroine. At least they had been polite enough to wait until AFTER Hawkmoth was defeated.  

Marinette was eleven when she became the hero Ladybug. And her world shattered a bit.

Marinette was fourteen when Hawkmoth was finally defeated.

Marinette was fourteen when Ladybug retired. And her world shattered again, this time a bit more.

It had taken nearly every miraculous they had to take the villain down but eventually, Gabriel Agreste was taken down, his memories of the miraculous erased. (Nathalie with him) His son Adrien Agreste surrendered his own miraculous, his position as Chat Noir, and his own memories of being a hero and everything he’d ever learned of magic and Kwami. All to prevent his father from ever learning of them again.

However, erasing his memories of his life as Chat Noir, unavoidably included erasing his memories of his friendship Ladybug, with Marinette. A friendship that had grown stronger, in and outside the mask, over fighting the evil that haunted Paris back together. Keyword: together.

On the same day, Ladybug had lost her best friend, Marinette did too. Both lost the boy she thought she’d marry one day. They could never be together. She’d have to lie to him for the rest of their lives. Marinette would never be able to do that. And she wouldn’t let Adrien’s sacrifice be in vain.

So she distanced herself from him. She couldn’t look at him without seeing Chat Noir. She couldn’t look at him, knowing she knew just about everything about him but he knew nothing about her. To him, Marinette was just some girl in his class; a sort of friend he was never really that close to.

Strangers, really.

It was why Marinette transferred out of Bustier’s class. The best thing for her heart was to stay away.

Still, she thought in a way, it was a happy ending. The best happy ending she could get. Hawkmoth was gone. Paris was safe. Ladybug was retired. Fu had reclaimed all Kwami and had disappeared. The world was good.

Until it wasn’t. Until one rainy Thursday. Her parents had gone out for a date night. They never made it home. There had been an accident. The other driver had been drunk. The funeral was on a Tuesday.

Marinette’s world had shattered once again, more than ever before.

Marinette was an orphan.

Her grandmother Gina sold the bakery, put the money from the sale and the life insurance into an account for Marinette, and moved Marinette into a nearby apartment, and then was gone. Legally, the older woman was Marinette’s guardian. But otherwise, Marinette was on her own. It was fine. Her dad had always warned her that his mom was a free spirit who never liked to be tied down.

She would talk with her grandmother once every other month if she was lucky. They primarily only communicated through email. The reception was spotted in the parts of the world Gina like to frequent.

At only fourteen, Marinette got used to paying bills, buying groceries, and virtually being an adult. She got used to living alone. Just like she got used to not being a hero anymore. Just like she got used to not having any friends after Lila came knocking on the class’s door.

A year later, the young girl was thriving. Her grades were at the top of the school, right after Max. She was class treasurer and on the track team, having missed the feeling of running as fast she could. She started Kuoshu classes; her mother had always wanted her to learn Chinse martial arts for defense. And Marinette missed the adrenaline she used to get after a fight.

It was a good life. A simple life. Marinette had only normal life worries to be concerned about.

…Again, she really should’ve known the other shoe would drop eventually.

Still, no fifteen-year-old girl who was minding her own business, casually walking down the street, wanted to suddenly have a black bag over her and tossed into the back of a van. In fact, it was every girl, woman, and human being’s worst nightmare.

She was tied up. She was gagged. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. Marinette had no idea how much time had passed. Or where they were taking her. Or who had taken her? She fought the tears that burned in her eyes as she struggled with the bonds around her hands. No matter how hard she tried, they wouldn’t break or budge. By the coldness of it, she knew she was either in handcuff or something similar made of metal.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Marinette felt herself be picked up and carried. She struggled against her assailant. She tried to kick her with her bound legs, hit with her tied fists. Nothing.

Marinette found herself being lower onto something. A chair she quickly realizes as she pressed her back to it.

Suddenly, the metal band around her hands released. Marinette quickly pulled the black bag off her head, undid the tap around her mouth, and took the plugs out of her ears.

She was in a mostly black room that only lights overhead, a vent the size of a phone, the table she sat at, and a large mirror across from her. Marinette figured it was a two-way mirror-like on cop shows, and that she was being watched. However, what concerned her most was that there was no sign of any door. Just walls and that mirror.

There was no escape.

Marinette glared at the mirror, at whoever was behind it.

She didn’t know how long she waited as she plotted her escape. Considering all variables for when they came back to her. Would they have guns? How many people would there be? Could she fight her way out? And just who her kidnappers could be? Child traffickers? Serial killer? Her past enemy, Hawkmoth, comes back for revenge? Who?

When a portion of the wall, next to the mirror opened, Marinette tried not to flinch back in surprise.

In walked a man at least twice her age. He wore a black suit and tie with a serious expression on his face. He was handsome with short dark hair and dark eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.

The door closed behind him once he stepped through. He said nothing as he sat down in the chair across from her. They started at each other silently.

           Marinette cracked first, “Who are you? What do you want? Where am I?”

           A small smile appeared on the man’s face, “You’re a very hard girl to track down, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’d have thought it would’ve been easier considering all you’ve done.” He had an American accent.

“Track? What?” Why would he want to track her down? “I didn’t do anything. Nothing! Okay?!”

           He gave her a curious look, “Really? Well, I wouldn’t call saving all of Paris on a nearly everyday basis for what two years, nothing.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t try to deny it. We have pictures, videos; evidence.”

           It was like someone had thrown ice water over her head. Marinette swallowed the lump that had built in her throat. “Who. Are. You.” She managed to get out.

“Me? I’m a friend,” He answered. “You can call me Black Heart.”

“Black Heart?” Marinette snorted. “You’re serious?”

“Oh because Ladybug is so much better,” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I have questions. You’re going to answer them.”

           He wanted to know about the miraculous, she guessed. Or how she got her powers. Marinette crossed her arms, “I have nothing to say.”

           Black Heart chuckled and stood up. He put his hands on the table, “Listen very carefully, Marinette. Because there are only two ways we can do this.”

           Marinette smirked, “Is one of them the easy way?”

           A look she couldn’t recognize briefly flashed over Black Heart’s face but gone just as quick. “No,” He answered.

“Oh.”

“Who are you?” He asked her.

           She paused before answering, “…My name is Marinette but you know that. I was the hero Ladybug but you know that as well.”

“What happened to HawkMoth?”

           She felt fine answering that. However, she gave the same answer she gave to the press, “Hawkmoth was defeated. He was stripped of his powers and destroyed.”

“You killed him?”

           It wasn’t the first time Ladybug had been asked that question. “…Yes.” She lied though it didn’t feel like much of one. Hawkmoth was dead after all.

           Blackheart nodded. “What happened to Chat Noir? And the other heroes? Dead too?”

           Marinette fought to keep her face blank, her fists clenched. “Yes,” She said. “They were causalities of the final fight with Hawkmoth.” Technically not a lie. Every Parisian hero had given up their miraculous once and for all after Hawkmoth was gone. There was no need for them anymore.

           The man raised an eyebrow, “Gabriel Agreste is still very much alive last I checked.” She reared back as if slapped. “So is Adrien is otherwise known as Chat Noir. Alya Cesaire aka Rena Rouge, her turtle boyfriend. The monkey guy. The tiger. The snake; Luka, I believe. All alive and kicking. So much for that lie…”

“They were retired,” Marinette growled. “Permanently.”

“Truth,” Blackheart nodded. “How did you erase their memories?”

           It had taken the combined power of Fu, Marinette, Tikki, Wayzz, and Plagg to do it. “I didn’t do anything.”

           Black Heart gave her a hard look, “Where do your powers come from?”

           Marinette smiled, “I don’t have any powers.”

“Fine! Where do Ladybug’s powers come from?”

“I am Ladybug,” She told him. “And Ladybug doesn’t have any powers.”

“You mean anymore?”

           Marinette nodded slowly.

           Black Heart sat back in his chair, “You’re telling me that you busted your ass saving Paris for two years, only to have your powers taken from you? You were tossed to the side just like that? Like you were nothing? I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I wasn’t needed anymore.” By anyone.

“You took down one of the biggest threats to this world,” The man said. “You fought. You bled. You sacrificed everything. From what our intelligence has gathered, you even gave up the love of your young life. Only to be cast aside; alone, forgotten, abandoned…”

“That’s not what happened,” Marinette shook her head.”

“You weren’t useful anymore,” Blackheart tutted. “So you were thrown away; left to fend for yourself in a cold, cruel world. No friends, no family,”

“Shut up,” Marinette whispered.

The man leaned forward, “How many internships did you turn down because you were too busy being a hero? Two? Three?”

“Shut up!” She said louder.

“Wait, it was five. That’s right.” He continued on as if she said nothing. “Five internships with some of the biggest names in fashion today. And you gave it up. Now what you have to show for it? Nothing!” He said. “You live this mundane life halfheartedly, struggling to find your place again, trying to get back even a fraction of the feeling you had when you fighting for this world!”

“SHUT UP!” Marinette roared.

           Black Heart shook his head, “I asked you who you are. But I already know who you are. I know who you were. You were a hero, a martyr, a leader, a little princess who believed in fairytales and the goodness of people. You were someone who believed this world could still be saved! So I just want to know three things. I have three questions to ask you and then you never have to see me again! You can go back to pretending to be whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

“What?” Marinette asked. “What could you possibly want to know?” Need to know that he didn’t already. “Huh? Just tell me!”

“Do you still believe this world can be saved?”

Silence.

“…What?”

“Answer the question.”

Marinette blinked, “Yes. I do.”

“Are you still willing to fight for it?” Black Heart asked.

“Always.”

           He smiled, and leaned back in his chair, “Last question… What do you know about Shield?”

           Well, that was a twist. Marinette’s eyes went wide. She knew a lot about shield. More than any normal teenage girl should. But a former Ladybug had been an Agent. And Tikki told her everything... It was founded by Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. Shield started the Avengers. They had been protecting the world for decades.

“A lot,” Marinette answered. “What do you want?

           The man gave her a small smile, “World peace.”

           The doors of the room opened again in walked a beautiful young woman with long hair a bright smile on her face, “You done traumatizing the poor girl yet.”

           The man groaned, “Dammit, Skye.”

           Marinette officially joined Shield the next day.

           Skye showed her the ropes and explained until she garnered some trust, most would give her their full name; maybe only even their code name.

           In another life, Skye hadn’t joined Shield until she was well into her twenties. In this life, she was recruited by a woman named Hill as soon as she graduated high school. It had been nearly ten years since. Skye had met Black Heart when she was about three years in, and they had disliked each other.

           Now they mostly tolerated the others’ existence. Only really dealing with each other on missions.

           Skye would be gone the next day. And Marinette would only see her once in a blue moon.

           Marinette would withdraw from school and finish her education taught by some of the greatest minds in the world. She would give up her apartment, and leave Paris. She would call her grandmother one last time for what would be months to let her know she was going to travel the world; her grandmother was pleased as she had done the same when she was not much older than Marinette. Gina disregarded the fact that she had been a legal adult at the time.

           It would be the last call she made from her phone. The line was disconnected and the phone tossed.

           Then she visited the place that had been her parents’ bakery, not their graves; because she would rather remember them alive, happy, and loving, then dead in the ground. And she told them goodbye.

           Before leaving Paris for good, she dropped off a perfectly wrapped green and black present off at the Agreste home. Adrien’s birthday was coming up. Inside the gift box was a black leather jacket with cat-shaped buttons. She handed the gift to Nathalie.

           This time, however, Marinette was quick to tell the older woman that MDC was sewn inside on the jacket; multiple times.

           Then she walked away; not looking back once.

It was the last thing Adrien would ever get from her. The last thing he would unknowingly have of Chat Noir. Ironically, the masked hero the blond had come to idolize in recent times.

The jacket was all she could give him of his as a hero, and not even a fraction of all she had wished to give him.

           One day he would forget her altogether. One day she would just be a random former classmate of his whose name he couldn’t quite remember.

           However, Marinette would never forget Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir. She would remember when Adrien was Chat Noir, one of the greatest heroes Paris would ever know. And she would remember Chat Noir was Adrien, and Adrien proved to be a greater hero than even he ever dared dream Chat Noir would be.

           Marinette would remember because she owed him that much at least.

           The night she left Paris would be the last time she dreamed of a life with Adrien. A life where they got to grow old together; one where wedding bells were heard. And he’d kiss her every time she left. And she’d kiss him every time she came back. A life where they got to see where their love would take them, and maybe one day hear the pitter-patter of little feet on their floor.

           A life where Marinette did actually become a fashion designer. A life where she married Adrien, Alya was still her best friend, her parents were alive, the world was good and kind, and two heroes got the finale they deserved.

           A life where love was enough, and they got their happy ending. The forever they never got would haunt her forever.

           Marinette was fifteen when she went she joined shield and went back to doing what she did best; helping people, saving the world.

Marinette was fifteen when she became an Agent of Shield.

           Marinette was fifteen when she learned how to shoot a gun.

           Marinette was fifteen when she joined Black Hear became her mentor. The training had been a killer. More than once, Marinette had nearly quit.

           Blackheart would just shake his head at her and say, “Life is tough, kid,” He’d give her an easy smile. “But so are you.”

           Marinette smiled.

“You and me?” Grant said. “We’re the same. We’re Kevlar. We do whatever it takes to complete the mission. We get the job done. Keep our feelings and emotions; personal wants and desires in check. For the greater good. Its who we are. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” Marinette repeated back. “But that doesn’t mean we have to shut people out; each other out.”

“Yes, it does,” Grant said firmly. “Yes, I do.” He stopped talking and look Marinette in the eyes, “There are things about me you don’t know. I’ve done things I… Thing you wouldn’t like if you knew.”

“We all have,” Marinette shrugged at her father figure. “It’s a part of the job. I get it.”

           Grant smiled at her, “I know you do. I know you would. We’re the same. We know this world isn’t all happiness and rainbows but we don’t stop trying to save it. We don’t stop believing it can be saved; that what we’re doing has a purpose. But there are things I can’t tell you. Things about me… that you wouldn’t like if you knew. One day, I hope you understand though. I know we will. We’re the same. But You’re good.”

“So are you,” Marinette said. “Grant, you’re like the best guy I know. You’re good.”

“Not always,” Grant looked away. “You need to know, Marinette, I’m not a good man.”

“I believe you are.” She stated, “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

           It would a year later after much trust was built, and they had gone of dozens and dozens of missions that she finally learned his real name.

           Grant.

Over the next few years, Grant became like a father to her. And to him, she was like a daughter. He taught her everything he knew. Marinette did everything she could to make him proud. He made her believe that they could really save the world, change the world for the better.

Where Grant went, she followed; most of the time. Sky would slowly start to show up more and more; until it was clear she wasn’t going anyway.

Whenever she was hurt, and the mission was over, Grant would tell a story about his past.

           Her favorites were the ones about a monster who loved the sky. It was clear that it was about him and Skye. “Do you want to hear a story, princess?” He smiled. “It’s about a man who struggled with his demons his entire life. Who asked for love throughout his entire life. But he never got it. Until she came. She made him feel important. She made him laugh. She made him better. She became his world.”

           Marinette couldn’t understand what was stopping the two from getting together.

           She met Nick Fury when she was seventeen and was sent on the first on her first solo mission.

When she was eighteen, Grant and Skye were approached by a man named Coulson. The same Coulson that had supposedly been killed by a god named Loki. The strangest part was Marinette was tapped to join too.

The team consisted of Coulson, May, Grant, Skye, Fitz, Simmons, and Marinette.

They were a team. They became a family.

However, then John Garrett was revealed to be Hydra; a man Marinette had thought she knew well. (Grant killed him. And she mourned with him the man they thought John was.)

           Then project insight happened. Nick Fury was killed. Captain America exposed all of Shield in an effort to reveal Hydra.

           Shield was labeled a terrorist organization.

           The team was on their own.

But, Marinette thought more than once over the next coming months, at least they had each other.

They ended up at a place called Providence. They were given lie detector tests by Agent Eric Koenig. “Fury designed this himself,” The portly man said. “He wanted a lie detector Romanoff couldn’t beat.”

“Did she?” Grant asked

“Like Fury would tell!”

                       Marinette sat in the machine and tried to relax.

“We’re going to start with some easy question,” Eric told her. “Can I have your full name?”

“Marinette Clarissa Dupain-Cheng.”

“Eye color?”

“Blue,” Marinette stated.

           The agent nodded, “Have you ever been married?”

           Marinette shook her head, “No.”

“Please list your immediate living family.”

“My grandmother Gina,” Marinette answered. “My grandfather. I considered my team my family though.”

“What’s the difference between an egg and a rock?”

           Marinette gave him an “Are you Serious” look, “One's food, ones a weapon.”

“Have you ever heard of project insight?”

“Never.”

“Have you ever had contact with Alexander Pierce.”

“I have,” She answered honestly. “Once. Just after the New York Invasion. Agent Hill introduced me.”

“You wash up on a desert island, alone. Sitting in the sand is a box. What’s in the box?”

“How big is the box?” Marinette asked curiously. “How did it get there? What island am I on? Am I near freshwater.”

“Just say the first thing that comes to your mind, Marinette,” He told her. “What’s in the box?”

“A pair of earrings.”

           Eric gives her a funny look but notes her age and shrugs it off. Spy teen girls were still teen girls, after all. “Shield no longer exists. The agency has been labeled a terrorist organization. So why are YOU here.”

           Marinette thought about the question. She had thought about it before. Shield had fallen. No one knew who was or wasn’t Hydra. She should’ve been gone in the wind. However, she had never even considered it. “Shield is all I have. Ward, Skye, Coulson, May, Simmons, Fitz, Trip; they’re all I have. They’re my family.” She told him. “And truthfully, I joined Shield because I believe this world is worth saving. I believe it can still be saved. I believe that it is good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

“I love Lord of the Rings,” Agent Eric Koenig grinned. “Let’s get you a Lanyard, Agent Dupain-Cheng.

           While Skye, May, and Grant stayed at Providence, Marinette joined Coulson and the others.

           When Marinette returned to the base after saving the Cellist lady. The bus was gone. May was gone. Grant and Skye were gone.

           What was left of the team had debated long about what had happened; why the three had left.

           When Coulson said, “Worst case…  We've had a wolf in the herd the whole time.”

           Marinette didn’t believe that at first. Not until she heard the scream. Saw Agent Eric Koenig’s body. Saw the word written on the picture.

           Ward is Hydra.

“Not Ward,” Fitz said.

“Not Ward,” Marinette repeated. “Not Ward.” Skye was wrong. She had to be wrong. Ward couldn’t be Hydra. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

           Then Simmons gave the analyze of Agent Eric Koenig’s murder.

“Ward did this,” Simmons said.

           In a fury, Fitz smashed a few things.

           Marinette could only stare in space as the words penetrated her mind.

           Ward is Hydra.

           The man she thought she knew the best.

           The man she had sworn her loyalty to, had given all her trust to, had loved like a father.

           The man who had gotten her to swear loyalty to Shield.

           Grant Ward had been her S.O. Her mentor. Her leader. Her captain.

           Grant Ward was Hydra.

           And just like that, Marinette’s world shattered again.

           And just like that, everything she ever thought she believed in was questioned.

           It would be months before she saw him again, and by then it had been confirmed without a doubt Grant Ward was Hydra. He was the enemy.

           He would try to kill the team multiple times.  Grant Ward would do everything he could to get her alone to speak with and or to Skye. Like he could change their minds. He had gone full psycho Hydra and didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

           Marinette was captured by Hydra not long before her twenty-first birthday.

           She was tied up and chained to a desk.

           Grant Ward walked in with an easy smile on his face, “Marinette. This brings back memories.”

“Old Blackheart himself,” The bluenette hissed back. “Good to see you again. Oh, Wait! As your lot puts; Hail Hydra, right?”

           He nodded and sat down across from her, “Ladybug.”

“Just kill me,” Marinette shrugged. “I won’t tell you anything. You know I won’t. I won’t Hydra. You and the rest of the freaking Nazi can go to hell.”

           Ward looked shocked, “Kill you? You really think I would… I would never hurt you, Marinette!” He told her. “You have to know that. I would never want to hurt you.”

“Maybe not want to,” Marinette looked him dead in the eye. “But you will. All apart of the job, right.”

“Do you think this was easy for me?” Grant asked. “You of all people understand how hard it was; the impossible decisions that had to be made. You know what it's like to make a choice that breaks you inside. But we make them anyway. I made them anyway. Because that’s what I do. What we do.”

Marinette shuddered. “A Double Agent. Do what needs to be done. Betray everyone who loves you, cares about you. Because we don’t matter, only the mission does. Right? That’s what you tried to train into me; anything for the mission.”

“No!” Ward shouted. “That’s who you were before I ever met you. You don’t get to put that on me. That’s why Shield wanted you. Because you did whatever it took to stop Hawkmoth for good. Whatever it took for the greater good. That’s how I knew we were the same.”

           Silence.

           Ward stood up, “You’re good. I get that. I’ve always known that. But you understand me. You’re a soldier. I’m a soldier.”

“You are a monster,” Marinette said. “You finally convinced. There is no good for you.”

           Coulson, May, Lincoln, and Skye rescued her not long after.

           Grant and Marinette would face off with each other multiple; fighting to the death; fighting for the cause.

           Then one day, Simmons would be gone, Coulson would go after her, and when they came back; Coulson would tell her Grant Ward was dead. He killed him.

           Marinette wouldn’t ever admit it but her world shattered just a bit.

           However, Marinette would see Grant again but he wasn’t Grant. He was hive. And Hive would nearly take Skye from the team. He would take Lincoln.

           After months of fighting the monster for months; doing whatever it took to bring him down; Lincoln, a pretty blond man with light-colored eyes who dared to be a hero, sacrificed himself.

           And for the first time in years, Marinette was reminded of Adrien Agreste. She had thought about him occasionally, sure. But seeing Skye cry over Lincoln had reminded her just deeply of her own loss. And remember that she was the one who erased his memories. He wanted the last thing he saw to be her before he never remembered her again.

           Marinette was twenty-two when she went to the funeral of Grant Ward. It was in Paris. Marinette was the only one who went. There was nobody to bury but still, Marinette had him laid to rest, not too far away from her parents.

           No matter how hard she had tried, Marinette couldn’t find it in her to hate Grant. She had loved him too much. He had been such a big part of who she was.

           And she owed it to him to finally see him laid to rest. It was her duty, she supposed.

           That was why she buried him in the once place she once thought she’d never return. The place where she once dreamed of another life.

           As she stared at his grave, once again she dreamed about another life.

           A life where Hydra had never returned. Shield had never fallen. The Avengers weren’t torn apart in a civil war. The world didn’t seem to always be on fire. Skye was still an Agent. Fitz and Simmons were married. Tripp was alive. Lincoln was alive. And Grant Ward was good.

           It was a nice dream but she’d leave it in Paris with all rest of her childhood’s hopes, wishes, and dreams.

“You were right,” She told Grant, speaking directly to his headstone as if he was there. “We are the same. I do understand. I’ve always understood. In the end, we always do our duty. Its what defines us. Rest in Peace, Ward.”

           Marinette walked out of the cemetery with her head held high. She would stop for ice cream, and cross paths with a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man. He’d look right through her.

           And it only bothered her a little.

           Months after she left Paris again, for good she swore, she would hear on the news about the untimely death of Gabriel Agreste.

           She would notify an hour later that Master Fu has surfaced in Paris again. The man had been watched by Shield for years.

           She would be told that Master Fu had been spotted around Agreste home.

           Marinette didn’t blink twice. It wouldn’t matter. Everyone had moved on. Adrien had moved. Marinette had moved on. And as far as the world was concerned Marinette Dupain-Cheng was dead. She had died years ago.

           Seven months later, Coulson would bring her in to help train a new recruit. She would walk into the training room of the bus and see a tall, a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man with hope clear on his face, standing next to Coulson, looking at her like he was seeing the sun for the first time in years.

“Kitty?” Marinette whispered.

“My lady.”

           Marinette was twenty-three when her world shattered yet again.

#ml salt #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #grant ward #agents of shield #Skyeward #adrien agreste #adrien deserves better

[lillassboutique]

SONY DOESNT CARE IF THEIR PLAYERS GET HACKED

Here’s my story involving SONY today:

My day started out, by waking up to notifications from Sony that my playstation account had been accessed. Okay.

Then a 2-step verification add been activated. Weird. Okay.

Then a charge had been made for $15.99. Not Okay.

Then another charged had been made for $59.99. REALLY NOT OKAY!

At that point, I was already trying to login to my account, and also was contacting my bank along with PayPal, because obviously someone had hacked my account. Turns out I couldn’t login in to my PlayStation account online, because somehow a person in SOUTH KOREA, or using a VPN showing that location had not only changed my password, but also my sign in email.

Unfortunately, PlayStation support wasn’t available until about 3 hrs. later, UGH!

After a VERY long few hours, FINALLY, support became available, (YAY!)

I got a hold of a very helpful individual that gave me access back to my account, which was great. Changed my sign in to a new email, changed my password, deleted all billing information (THANK GOODNESS), and activated a new 2-step verification that was linked to my phone. I thought everything was back to normal, all good. ☺️

2 HOURS LATER…..

Everything was definitely NOT GOOD! 😧

I got notifications on my phone, because someone was trying to use the 2-step verification multiple times, then I get an email saying that my sign in email was changed, my 2-step verification was deactivated, and password was changed AGAIN!

Of course I contact Sony right away through chat online, first person I get says they can’t help me, that I’ve seemed to have contacted support a lot this week, and that I need to use the password reset link, then ends the chat, and cuts me off. (Rude)

Second person, gives me more than 2 min, I explain that I’ve only contacted them just recently, and not all week, so clearly someone is contacting support with my info to get them to change my sign in, and after this, guess what? SAME OUTCOME! Says they can’t help me, and I need to use the reset password link, which sure I would, if THE PERSON HADNT CHANGED MY SIGN IN EMAIL! I had also explained that part to the so called PlayStation Support people, but yet they just kept mentioned the password reset link, like a broken record, then ended the chat, cutting me off, again. (Super Rude!)

If you can’t guess by this time I was pretty frustrated, so I decide to CALL support instead when I’m able to a little later. I couldn’t really call before that point, which is why I was trying to use online chat.

After a long hold, I finally get a live person, and what happened with this person is probably what sent me over the edge.

I explain to this lady exactly what had happened today, in every detail I could manage. Her first question back to me is, you have a child profile? Surprised, I say yes, I made one under my account, and then she asks how easily my child is able to access our PlayStation account. I got a little irritated at that question. I explained to her that my child can not access our account without me present, and that we only have the one console. Then this lady asks me if I can be sure that the child hasn’t accessed the account. I tell her yes I’m sure, my account was hacked THIS MORNING, my child is only 10yrs old, and she was IN SCHOOL when all this nonsense happened.

(Did she think my 10yr old, what?, skipped school, then somehow either went to South Korea, or created a VPN by herself to make it look like it was Korea, just so she could buy some games on my account. Games that she would never play. Seriously? 🤦🏼‍♀️)

It gets better, after I’m trying to tell this lady that my child has nothing to do with this, she then tells me, well maybe my child’s account could still be the culprit, and the person used “hacking means” to go through the child’s profile to get my information.

(Okay fine, whatever, but however this person did it, doesn’t matter. I just need help getting access back to my account and locking out this person.)

So I tell her I just need help getting access back to my account, and stopping this person from getting my information. Her response is, well since I’ve contacted them more than 3 times today, she can no longer access my account due to SECURITY REASONS, and I would have to wait 7 DAYS before they can do anything to help me. Yes 7 DAYS! So I get hacked TWICE, because what they did the first time didn’t stop the person, then they obviously allow him to reset the password again, and give the hacker access. Then the person who the account ACTUALLY BELONGS TO gets the response “well you’ll have to contact us in 7 days.” I can’t access my content, I have time on my PSN account through to March 2022 that I now can’t use for a week, I already lost money because of this hacker, and playstation is telling me I have to wait a week to get it all fixed.

I tell the lady how it’s ridiculous that I have to wait a week to get access to my own account, and she tells me that I can try to RESET my password. (seriously how many times can one of their people suggest that, especially after I’ve told them I don’t have access.) She then says, wait you’ve tried to reset it to many times, so you’ll have to wait on that too, or you can go ahead and create a brand new account. I tell her if I make a new account then im going to lose all the time I previously paid for, right? and she says yes, but theres nothing more they can do. She ends the conversation saying that the reason I got hacked is probably because I have a child account on my console, and that I should definitely call back in 7 days to try to reset my password again. (I will forever hate that phrase “reset password” btw) Then asks me if there’s anything else she can help me with.

I’ve been playing PlayStation since I was a kid, since the original came out. When we could only use discs, and we used toothpaste to try to fix the scratches in desperation because we wanted to keep playing that one game. The stuff that happened with Sony today was really disappointing, and sad to say made me feel like they don’t care much about their players as much as they say they do. They’ve had some major hacking issues before like back in July no less, so obviously there are safety issues, and I’m not making it up. I wasn’t even asking for money, or extra play time, all I wanted was access back to my account, so I could continue to enjoy my stuff. Well I’m not enjoying anything PlayStation related now. Not to mention, there’s a strong possibility after these 7 days are up, I’m going to have them close my account, move on to another system, and sell off my PlayStation. (Maybe Xbox? Or back to PC games? Idk) How can you continue with a company that doesn’t even have support you can count on? All I wanted to do was be able to play my games. It’s a real shame, because I’ve always enjoyed PlayStation, and some of their games were at the top of my favorites list.

Now, because of a really bad experience I feel like I’ll be giving up on a company that I previously had a lot of faith in. I wanted to also share it with anyone out there that’s had trouble with Sony, or to warn people, so they don’t have the same experience.

What can you do….. 🤷🏼‍♀️

#playstation #sony playstation #ps now #psn #playstation plus #playstation now

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 13th, Sunday 13:32

oh no, guys!!

I was out all day and just got back home to realise that I didn’t set the time when to publish todays’ clip... it just sat there in my drafts... so could everyone reading just imagine to be teleported back to this very early afternoon?

I’m so so sorry!! 😰

__ __ __

Hey Jens,

I know this may be a bit out of the blue as I hadn’t contacted you for over two years. I hereby do not ask for forgivness if any shape or form. A lot had happened and for a while it was close to impossible to have contact outside of work. Obviously it doesn’t excuse my absense. I am pretty confident that I may even not have written you yet, wouldn’t it have been for Helena.

Your mother was also the person to give me this email-address, I hope you aren’t too cross with her. She meant well.

I am very positive you aren’t interested to read of anything that had happened to me since our last meeting in 2016. Already four years have passed. It doesn’t feel that long ago. But obviously you may feel different about that.

So where to begin? 

Helena wrote me a long text, detailing the main events of the last year and her diagnoses. I had to read it a couple of times for it to settle. It still feels surreal to have to accept her leaving earth that early. I am most sorry for you. I wish I could have been of more support from the very beginning. But now I have the chance to do something and I hope you will consider my offer.

She told me of Lies and that she no longer lives in Belgium, which leaves you at home with your mother and Lotte. I can barely imagine how very hard that Must be on you. I do hope you have enough people who can take care of you, when you put your energy towards your family.

There isn’t much I can do from my position here. But be assured that I already signed the documents to waive my choice of guardianship over Lotte. You mother was strictly clear that that was your preferred arrangement and I am in no position to interfere in your affairs at home. So they should be on their way and at yours rather soon, hopefully in time early next week. Just in case, I attached a pdf scan. Should you need anything else, please do not hestitate to ak.

I also hadn’t forgotten that you turned 18 and unfortunately I haden’t yet congratulated you. I would like to do that now, even if it may seem shallow. But I send you all my best wishes and do genuinly hope that you will find success and love along your way. I am proud that you have the strenght in you to get through such a difficult and exhausting time and I believe with all my heart that you will make it to the other side.

Regarding my mentioned offer:

I want you to be able to persue your goals in life. Surely you must have some dreams about the future you’d like to see come true. It isn’t much, but I am obviously sending money into your mothers, and now your, bank account, for Lotte and yourself since our separation. And if you would allow me to increase the amount by whatever the house or the corresponding insurances may cost, I’d be more than happy to do that. As well as money for university. A good education takes you far in life.

This is not the greatest help of course, I know this. And I hope that you’ll understand that I can’t just leave my work behind, but I am already areaging to go visit Helena in January. I have to see her before I nay no longer have a chance, and she as well asked me to.

If you, for some reason, want to meet me as well, it would make me quite happy to see you too. I understand though if that is out of question for you.

I hope to hear back from you, so we can discuss the reality of help I can provide and anything I may have forgotten to bring up. I didn’t wanted this to get too long.

You’ll find my mobile number in the document as well, but as I said, a signal is a rare occurance.

With kindest regards,

Hendrik

— 

Jens, who had been hunched over his laptop for the better part of the email, leaned back, resting his head against the wall behind them on the bed.

Reading the long message hadn’t helped to clear up any conflicting emotions he had felt since the notification had arrived a couple days ago. Jens had expected the worst and the best simultaneously, and what he actually had received left him uncertain about the right reaction to such a message. Was it anger or gratitude?

„So? What does it say? Is it bad news?“

No it wasn’t really, was it? If it wouldn’t have been for the sporadic contact with his father, and the suddenness of this mail, Jens perhaps would only have a more positive attitude towards it. However it wasn’t that simple unfortunately.

Jens hadn’t told Robbe about the content of the mail or why he hadn’t opened it yet. But when he had announced that it had been his father, Robbe hadn’t asked anything else. Instead he had draped an arm around his back, before putting his attention on his phone, promising not to look. Jens trusted his best friend to keep his word and had thus quickly opened the message. Before he had a chance to change his mind.

That didn’t meant that the boy snuggled to his side wasn’t curious.

„I don’t know. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’m glad to hear from him, but I am so pissed about the way he wrote it. For example: Already four years have passed. It doesn’t feel that long ago. But obviously you may feel different about it.“ Jens read out loud, ending on a heavy sigh. He probably could have just quoted everything but that would be bringing up topics that Jens wasn’t ready to share.

„Or this bullshit of three sentences: I also hadn’t forgotten that you turned 18 and unfortunately I haden’t yet congratulated you. I would like to do that now, even if it may seem shallow. But I send you all my best wishes and do genuinly hope that you will find success and love along your way.“ He continued, almost mockingly, huffing an unamused laugh when he reread parts of the mail. „Like, fuck him. What am I supposed to do with that?“

„Seriously? That’s why he wrote you?“

It was very nice to know that Robbe seemed a little pissed off by it as well. It definitely validated Jens‘s belief, that this was a shitty thing to write given their history.

„No.“ Jens sighed again, this time a little deflated. His eyes darted briefly towards his best friend, feeling rather timid as he contemplated how to formulate his next words.

„I needed a signed document from him for the thing that is stressing me out.“ As if he couldn’t be anymore vague. „And my mom was so kind to get into contact with him first. So he basically just let me know that he send it off and attatched a pdf as well. That’s something I guess.“

„I see.“

Robbe’s second arm sneaked around his stomach, thus wrapping him into a tight embrace, as he rested his head against Jens’s shoulder.

„I think I would have preferred him to just let me know about the document and leave out the whole other stuff.“ Jens replied, leaning his own head into of his best friend’s.

He felt Robbe nodding, while his fingers stroked his back gently in an attempt to comfort his best friend.

„What did Lucas think?“ He asked Jens, receiving a soft snort in return.

„Nothing yet of course. I opened this for the first time here with you, dumbass.“

„Right. Sorry, my bad!“ Robbe shrugged a faint pink on his cheeks, as he instantly realised the his mistake at the same time Jens answered him.

„I think I’m glad that he wrote me. At least I know that he supports me in some way and I‘m not simply indifferent to him. It would have been worse, had I needed to chase him down for weeks to get the documents.“ Jens quietly said and swiftly closed the laptop. He pushed it away from them. Jens would definitely talk to his mom and perhaps let Lucas read the mail later on his own.

Robbe sat silent next to him. 

„He offered to pay for stuff if I needed him to. Don’t ask me why. But it feels shitty. It is good to have, and I may take him up on it. But it is not what I really need.“ I’d rather have him around, back then and now, Jens finished his thought unspoken.

It was the truth something that felt hard to say out loud. He wasn’t unaware of the fact that he close to never spoke about his father. It wasn’t an important part of his life for years now. He wasn’t even sure what people thought about his father, his friends included. He had met them all way after he left. Did they assume he was dead? No one ever had directly asked Jens before. At least he couldn’t remember anyone had before. There were only a couple of pictures that excist in his home that showed him, and they were almost all a decade old.

“If you want my opinion despite only getting the tiniest details from you, I’d tell you to straight up take the money. My father is always a little stingy if I need more for a month. So if your father offers you something, say thank you and accept it. It is the very least he can do for you. Don’t feel bad or sorry about it, as he should do much more for you. Honestly.”

Jens sat up straighter at his best friends words, Robbe following suit as the unwrapped themselves from each other. It definitely sounded like a shitty thing to do, but then so was the offer. Perhaps Jens would just as Robbe had told him. Why not?

“And if you don’t want to spend it on yourself, use it for Lotte or take out your boyfriend or help your mom with the bills. Whatever.” Robbe added and then shuffled of the sofa, as his phone was ringing on the desk calling for his attention.

Jens watched him, not paying much attention to anything but his thoughts and feelings regarding his father. He was glad that he had come to his best friend who simply accepted Jens withholding most of the details and still helping out. He appreciated it so fucking much.

“Alright, we’ll be there in fourty minutes, I think... yea... sure... okay see you then!”

Robbe told the person on the phone, his best friend’s hand reaching for him to pull him rather clumsy off the bed. Jens laughed at the sorry attempt. Robbe just wasn’t strong enough. But he gave in the second the other boy glared at him.

“Come on. Mayo is already on his way and I’m gonna text Aaron. You can bring your laptop and everything, or you can come back here later to get it.”

“Nah, I have to pick up Lotte at seven from her best friend’s place.” Jens replied, getting up while he packed everything as fast as he could around an impatient Robbe, searching for his missing board. As if a whole fucking skateboard could just vanish?

Seriously how did Sander managed to endure this daily?

Jens must have said that last question out loud, because he was hit in the chest, luckily not by the found skateboard, but by one of Robbe’s loose scattered sneakers.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

#week 8 #wtfock #skam #vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #chapped and faded

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [2]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 2, in which Dante hunts for clues and to who he is, and where he is, when he reconnects with a long-lost relative.

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Chapter 2: Pictures and Clues

Dante spends a full ten minutes just sitting on the bed in his underwear. He reviews every step of the night before: Nero texting him about this job, catching the train to Fortuna, the two of them driving out to the warehouse with the radio blaring and picking up burgers on the way. Then the demons, dozens upon dozens, that weren't difficult but packed to the brim so that when they pried open the front door of the building they swarmed like roaches.

He had found the queen at the top, but there it gets fuzzy. It talked to him, but about what? Something about his family? Every time he gets to that part, his headache turns a little sharper, so Dante decides to give thinking a rest so he can figure out where the hell he actually is.

His jeans are slung over a chair so he grabs them and fishes inside for his cell phone. It's different from the one he normally has, and he frowns as he turns it on and finds a passcode. He tries the first thing he can think of—1, 2, 3, 4, easy enough—and luckily it works. Quickly he dials Nero's number, but isn't really surprised when the automated voice comes on the line to tell him that number is not in service.

Dante scratches the back of his head. He's here, in a strange house with a woman who knows his parents, and Nero is… somewhere. Got it.

But then he wonders if something might have happened to Nero. What if he needs his help? Then this has got to be a dream, right? So how does he wake up?

Once he pulls his jeans on and finds a t-shirt in the other set of drawers, he tries the door. Cautiously he opens it, but the house is quiet, so Dante slips into the hallway. There are two other bedrooms and a bathroom which look suspiciously normal. Even the closets are tidy, and Dante snorts when he gets to the linen closet. This must be a dream. Who owns so many towels?

Next, he heads downstairs to the main floor. At the bottom is a living room, complete with a comfortable-looking sofa and a big-screen television. Dante stands in front of it and admires it for a minute before grabbing the remote control. He lets out a low whistle when he sees the picture quality, thinking if this is a dream, he's got good taste.

That demon's got good taste.

Dante shakes his head and continues his search. A small dining room is to the left, and to the right is a hallway leading to another half bath. The kitchen is nice too, the dishwasher humming and a pot of coffee warm on the counter. Even the refrigerator is stocked, and Dante helps himself to a piece of chicken he finds in a plastic container, figuring he can eat whatever he wants in a dream.

Out the kitchen window he can see a little backyard, and Dante sighs as he leans against the counter and chews thoughtfully. It's a nice enough house, something any ordinary couple might buy for a starter home. He glances down at the gold band on his finger, holding it up so he can examine it closely. Setting the chicken down, he wipes his hand on his jeans and slips it off, turning it over until he notices an inscription on the inside: Dante and Lir Forever.

He pictures the cute blonde who was half his size but acted more than familiar. "Lir," he murmurs out loud, slipping the ring back on as he looks around.

Wandering back through the house, Dante notices some pictures sitting on the windowsill in the living room. He walks over and picks up the first one, his face going a bit pale. He is in a suit, and that woman‚ Lir, is in a wedding dress. They are posed and smiling in front of a cake, holding a knife together as if to cut it. He turns it over but there's nothing out of the ordinary about it, and Dante snorts as he sets it back down again.

The next few are of them as well: a selfie in winter gear, posing in what Patty would call "Sunday attire", in bathing suits at a beach, arms around each other and grinning at the camera. He's gotta admit, they look pretty good together. His brain did a good job dreaming this girl up.

The next photo, however, feels like a punch to the gut. It's a double-sided frame on a hinge, and on one side it's him and a man who looks exactly like him, only his hair is slicked back instead of hanging in fringes around his face. In fact, he looks exactly like what Vergil would look like. If he was still alive.

Dante's hand shakes as he examines the picture. It is Vergil, it's got to be, the same slightly slimmer build and the half-inch in height that made it possible to tell them apart. The only thing that shocks him more than seeing this picture is the one opposite. Across from Dante and Vergil posed with small smiles is Vergil and Lady, her hand in his arm as they smile into the camera.

Gripping the picture frame, he grabs the next one and braces himself. Staring up at him are two people he somewhat recognizes, as if he had seen them in a dream. They are older, in their 60s maybe, the man grinning with his arm around his wife, sitting together on a couch. He has longish silver hair, not unlike Dante's, a pair of glasses hanging around his neck. Her blonde hair is swept up into a bun, streaks of white only making her more dignified, her hand on the man's knee. Dante brings the picture up so close his nose nearly touches it, and that's when he realizes that the woman is a dead ringer for Trish, if Trish was about 40 years older.

His cell phone rings in his pocket, startling him out of his examination. Dante fumbles for the phone but freezes when he sees the name Vergil appear on the screen. It takes another three rings before he gets the courage to answer. "Yeah?"

"Did I wake you or something?"

Dante staggers to the couch and sits heavily, still clutching the two pictures in his hands. He knew what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for hearing that voice on the other end. "Dante," it says again. "You there?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers, his voice cracking around a dry throat. "Verge, is that you?"

"Of course it's me. I want to talk about tonight." Dante's eyes close as he listens, trying not to freak out. Even Vergil's exasperation for him is the same. "I'm paying for dinner, and I don't want to hear anything about it. We need to settle this now so we don't argue at the restaurant."

"What uh…" Dante's mind is spinning and he shakes his head to clear it. "Yeah uh, Lir mentioned something about a dinner. Do you know Lir?"

"I'm surprised you forgot, Dante. Usually you remember these sorts of things." Dante leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he tries to breathe. "This dinner tonight is important and I don't want a scene. Just let me pay for it, and afterward we can agree on how you'll pay me back your half. Agreed?"

Dante swallows thickly. "Yeah, yeah that's fine. Vergil. Vergil."

Even saying his name gives Dante the shivers. "Well I expected more of an argument. Glad you're going to listen to reason. Don't be late."

"Wait, Verge?" Dante looks down at the picture in his hand, something hot and tight tickling his throat. "Can I see you? Can you come over?"

"What for? I'll be seeing you tonight, and I have the kids. Are you sick? Where's Lir?"

"She covered a shift," Dante replies. "Please, Verge, I got… I need to say some things."

"Well say it tonight. I'm not driving all the way over there when I'll see you in a few hours."

Dante chuckles, swallowing tears as his breath escapes in a laugh. "Okay. Yeah. Hey uh, is mom and dad… they really gonna be there? At this dinner thing?"

There is a long pause, and then Vergil huffs, "Don't be stupid," before hanging up on him.

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The rest of the afternoon Dante spends figuring out his life. He finds photo albums in the closet, handmade scrapbooks that Lir definitely made. They chronicle some of their vacations, and he smiles as he turns the pages to see them camping, at the beach, at Disneyworld. The wedding one makes him wince a bit, the smiling faces of his brother and his parents making something in his chest tight. The date on the preserved invitation tells him they've been married about ten years, which is pretty funny since the longest relationship he's ever had was about ten minutes after getting dressed.

He looks weird in a suit, and Dante snorts to think what Lady or Trish would say if they saw him. But Lady is there, on Vergil's arm, and that is a mystery he can't wait to solve. And Trish kind of is there, in the form of his mother, looking slightly older but just as lovely.

There is a drawer in the desk in the office that has some bills, and he boots up the computer to take a look through. The email is pretty normal, receipts from online orders and utility companies, messages from the family and people he doesn't know. There is a link to a bank account and Dante's brows lift to see the balance. Compared to his normal finances, the amount seems like a small fortune.

There must be something a god of fortune can give you.

A cat appears suddenly, jumping onto the desk and stalking across the keyboard to plop across his arms. Dante pulls back in reaction, which earns him a very annoyed look from the cat. "Hey uh, there," he says, tentatively reaching out to pat its head.

The cat snaps at him, and Dante rolls his eyes. He never got along with animals as a rule. "So you want to sit on my computer as I'm using it but I can't pet you, hm?" he grumbles. The cat yawns in response, so he decides to go find lunch instead.

There's not much more to discover after having a sandwich. His life seems completely ordinary, although he doesn't know exactly what he does or even if he's still in Red Grave City. The other question still to solve is Nero. If Vergil is alive and married to Lady, then does Nero even exist? His face goes a bit hot to think of the kid not being around. But Vergil had mentioned kids on the phone… is it possible?

He is dozing on the couch and watching television when the door bursts open. Dante is on his feet and reaching for his guns that aren't there when Lir hurries in, her arms filled with dry cleaning as she comes like a whirlwind into the living room. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I can't believe I got stuck there! I told them I couldn't stay, and now look at the time!"

She pushes the clothes and plastic into his arms and pulls her cell phone from her purse. "Did you take a shower yet? You still need to shave. You are going to shave, right? You can't look like a sasquatch at the party."

Lir looks up at him expectantly, and Dante shrugs. "Yeah, I guess?"

"Good. Wait. Are you okay?" She steps up and presses a hand to his forehead. "You were sick this morning. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," he assures her. "I had a weird dream."

She smiles, and his heart actually skips a beat. His brain is good. "Good. Did you feed Claudius?"

"Claudius?"

"Yes. The cat." Lir laughs and pats his chest. "Was he a problem today?"

Dante thinks about the cat that interrupted his computer search. "No. And no, I didn't feed him."

"Okay. I'll take care of it. You go shower and get dressed. And don't take too much off, you know I prefer a bit of facial hair." She takes the dry cleaning from his arms and pulls one of the hangers to hand back to him. "Here's your shirt and pants. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Yeah." He watches her step around him, draping the rest of the clothes over the back of a chair before disappearing into the kitchen. If this is a dream, it's more vivid than any he can remember.

The shower feels good, even if Dante is amazed by how many things are on the shelves. He's never lived with a girl but is there anything needed really other than a bar of soap? In one of the drawers under the sink he finds a shaving kit and goes to work before the shower fixing up his face just like she asked. It occurs to Dante that this is his dream and he can do whatever he wants, but something makes him not want to disappoint her, so he makes sure to leave a nicely trimmed beard while removing the rest from his cheeks and neck. Once the shower is hot, he goes for the least-strange sounding soaps before finishing up and drying off with a nice fluffy towel.

He peeks into the bedroom and finds it empty. Quickly he hurries over to the bureau and opens the top drawer, rummaging around for some underwear. Dante just has his first foot in when Lir enters, and he yelps when he sees her. "Hey! I'm getting dressed!" he protests.

She freezes and looks at him in surprise as he pulls his boxer briefs up. "Yeah. I see that." With a laugh she moves to the closet and hangs the rest of the dry cleaning up before disappearing into the bathroom.

Dante frowns before he remembers, they are married. He rubs his hand on his face with an internal groan. He is going to have to get used to this as long as this dream or whatever lasted, including being half-dressed in front of her. While she's gone he quickly pulls on the dark slacks and gray dress shirt before heading to the closet. He finds some black dress shoes he figures Lir will like, and once he's all ready he stands and looks at himself in the full-length mirror that is propped against the wall.

Dante barely recognizes himself without the low-slung denim and some red leather, but he figures he still looks pretty good. As long as he looks better than Vergil, he'll be satisfied, chuckling to himself at the thought. But then he sobers a bit as his stomach turns, wondering what it will be like to see Vergil again. The last time was on Mallet Island, and before that, watching him fall off the Temen-ni-gru. Did that even happen in this place? There had to be a Temen-ni-gru if Lady was here, right? He shakes his head, confused as ever. He needs to figure this out, and fast.

Lir steps past him, again dressed in only a bra and panties, and Dante quickly looks the other way as she pulls her dress over her head. "Will you get this zipper?" she asks as she steps into a pair of heels.

Clearing his throat, he steps up behind her and carefully pulls the zipper up as she smooths her hands down the front. It's a sleeveless blue little number that fits her just right, and when she turns around to fix his collar he admires how nice she looks. "Okay," Lir smiles. "You ready to go? Dinner with the family is always interesting."

Dinner with the family. "Yeah, I'm ready," he grins. Maybe the mystery-solving can wait until after seeing them again at least. Couldn't hurt, right?

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc oc #dante sparda #vergil sparda #fan fiction #the wish #myfic

[tjadakaa]

a destination is no replacement for a purpose (snippet)

I started writing tfatws fix-it but it's an uphill slog. Getting into Rhodey’s head was not easy cause it was about 2/3rds grief and coping. 

Here have a conversation set in TFATWS episode 1 between Sam and Rhodey.

He wakes up right before his alarm goes off. The silence of the early morning and the warmth of his bed entices him to slip back asleep but he resists and gets up. He’s supposed to be in retirement, technically he is in retirement if not for the occasional consultation, the occasional mission. It was worse during the blip, handling Thanos, the Avengers and everything else. In the bathroom mirror he stares at a face that looks weathered and eyes that could use more sleep. His body twinges in a way he’s gotten used to and his legs—they respond all right, better than they used to thanks to Wakandan intervention. But they’re all reminders, history and memories he sometimes wishes he could forget, if only so it would hurt less.

He drinks coffee and reads the news at a table for four. This week he has some meetings planned, a moderated discussion with some folks from the GRC and… he closes his eyes briefly. A visit to Pepper and Morgan. They had moved away weeks ago from the family house and so it’s not as easy to see them. However Pepper insisted and James appreciates her tender but firm command more than he’ll ever admit. They were family even if some of the glue that had held them together was gone.

His personal phone buzzes and he picks it up. He doesn’t recognize the number but very few people had his personal contact, and so he answers after a pause.

“Hello?”

“Hey… It’s Sam.”

“Sam! Good morning.” He tries not to let the surprise he feels tinge his tone. He’d given Sam his number years ago, encouraged him to call certainly after their meeting at the Smithsonian but he would be lying if he said he expected the other man to reach out. The two of them exchange pleasantries.

“You don’t normally call, something up?” He broaches the topic after Sam says a joke that he knows he shouldn’t laugh at but does anyway.

“Yeah, I was wondering about the Avengers plan you mentioned before. I know it’s been awhile but things are finally settling for me and I think I might need something like that.” Sam doesn’t sound too confident and James wonders what sort of situations Sam might have been running into lately.

“Oh! I don’t handle that anymore but I can have the people who do give you a call and tell you about it more now of course. We probably sent you something with the overview but I wouldn’t be surprised if you never got it. Do you mind telling me more about the situation that’s prompted this? You don’t have to, I'm just curious.”

The ‘plan’ Sam was asking about was mainly his idea from back when the Avengers had been in their early stages and racking up property damage and lawsuits like it was a game to get the highest score. Each official member was fully insured with a benefits package worth millions, this package even extended somewhat to affiliated persons who weren’t officially recognized. Before the blip Sam went from the latter to the former.

Sam clears his throat and James waits patiently to see if he would say more. After managing the Avengers full time these last few years there’s little he hasn’t heard or seen, Nevermind his previous years in the millitary and being Tony’s usual partner in crime.

“My sister has a boat, she can’t afford it anymore and the bank isn’t keen on giving her a loan.” One sentence and a whole story within. He opens his mouth to speak but stops when Sam continues.

“I did the math, calculated her score and the payments. Then I went with her to the bank. They still couldn’t give her the loan. She’s eligible but—” Sam stops talking and James hears the inhale, the anger.

“I’m an Avenger or I used to be. She can pay it. Can the plan help with this?”

“The plan can help.” He confirms when he’s sure Sam was done speaking. He doesn’t say: Even if it couldn’t I would put my own money down.

“I don’t want charity Rhodey, if it doesn’t cover something like this—”

“We’ve paid legal fees for stupider things than this Sam, it’s fine.” He understands Sam’s mentality on ‘charity’ and doesn’t dig any farther. It hurts a little, they’d worked together and fought together but Sam still wouldn’t accept his help on something like this. Better that it came from a resource all the Avengers had than it came from a friend.

“Okay… ok. What do I need to do?” Sam sounds strained but there’s unmistakeable hope in his voice.

“Someone from the team will call you, just tell them how much you need and they’ll get it straightened out.”

“I can pay it back, it’s not that much.” Sam says after a moment and James rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a loan, it's what you’re owed after saving the world a few times. This is the reason it exists.”

“...Not to pay all the property damage?” Sam quips after a pause and James laughs.

“That’s included. You’re one of the cheaper ones don’t worry.” The Hulk, Thor and Wanda’s plans alone were outrageous.

“Wow, how much did Steve run you?”

“Before or after Barnes showed up?” James shakes his head smiling.

“Is Bucky covered by this plan?”

“He’s considered an affiliate but he’s definitely ran up some bills.”

“You know he wrecked my car when we first met, does the plan cover that or…”

“Probably not. You and him weren’t affiliated and Steve was rogue.” The accords didn’t exist anymore, not after 5 years of the blip but when they had— He dreams sometimes of falling, sometimes Sam catches him in time, sometimes Tony, sometimes no one.

“A lot has changed in five years.” Sam says and he concurs. Sam hadn’t been here for those five, James doesn’t envy him.

“Did he tell you what he was planning to do?” He changes the topic, keeping it vague and leaving it squarely up to Sam to answer or deflect. They hadn’t gotten to speak much the last time they met. Before then it was funerals and official gatherings, now it was just a phone call. Not having to see Sam’s face it felt easier to talk.

“No.” There’s no emotion coloring the response.

“Did he ask you?”

“Not really. Just said he was leaving and I should have it.” This time there’s more to go off, more to dissect.

“Do you wish he’d given it to someone else?” There’s an entire conversation, an entire thread the both of them are skirting. Sam and Steve, Tony and Rhodey.

“I wish he stayed.” Still little emotion, the edges of a story.

When James doesn’t say anything for awhile Sam asks, “Did he tell you what he was planning?”

“Yes.” They had their moment in private, he hadn’t been blindsided. Pepper hadn’t either but they had both still fallen apart after. If he were to make a comparison it would be unfair, he had decades with Tony.

They don’t talk for much longer, he reminds Sam not to be a stranger and sends an email to the accounting team to call Sam afterwards.

#james rhodes #sam wilson #tfatws #fix it fic #fatws

[shawn-mendes-post]

Family pt. 2

A/N: Do not own anything. One cuss word.

(Y/N) waddled to the dressing room, running a hand through her long hair that she has been meaning to cut. She was going to be a guest on the Late Late show with James Corden. 

Her mint green long dress showed off her curves and perfectly pregnant belly. After the photo shoot there were tons of offers to go on TV, but she would always turn them down. She did not want anyone knowing her business about the pregnancy or about Shawn because it's no ones fucking business.

****** The Show ******

" You may know her from the countless songs she wrote. With her newest hit taking the music industry by storm. Or seen her on American Horror story  getting pretty steamy with Evan Peter and even in Riverdale getting in between Bughead," James said, clapping along with the audience. 

" Yes, ladies and gentlemen. It is the one and only remarkable (Y/N)."

The curtains open and (Y/N)  walks out, waving and high-fiving people as she descends the stairs. Reaching James, she gives a small handshake, kissing his cheek as she makes her way to the couch. 

" It's great to have you here, (Y/N)." 

" Haha. Well, it's great to be here James. It's actually my first interview. Thanks for having me," She smiles as she smooths out her dress, feeling self conscious about her body. She makes her way to the comforter with a nervous smile as she laughs nervously, hand on her pregnant belly.

" Why is it your first?" 

" I'm going to be honest. I'm really nervous right now and excited too. I'm not one to actually talk about my personal life so that made me wary of being on a talk show. Also, I grew up watching you and I wanted my very first time to be with you," She said, as she places a hand on his, keeping a straight face.

James looks at the audience and lets out a giggle. " Oh you. You know how to make a talk show host feel special," he said making the audience laugh. 

(Y/N) laughs as she let's go and moves around to get comfortable. " How was it filming AHS? You know getting down and dirty with Evan Peter." He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Laughing, she blushes as she tries to form a response. " Not going to lie but it was amazing. He was one of my celebrity crushes that I wanted to meet. He was super nice and funny. He wanted me to be comfortable and I'm glad it was with him. We are really good friends now actually. " 

James nods as he looks at his cue cards. " Fans want to know the meaning behind your photoshoot. You took us all by surprise by your announcement. I mean you look gorgeous by the way."

She nods, knowing people wanted to know what was going on. " Thank you, I'm nine months. I did not know I was pregnant until three months in. It was a huge shock since I was already going through a tough time. As you know I broke up with Shawn after 3 wonderful years. There was nothing wrong with our relationship except falling out of love with each other. I will always love him and want him to be happy. Some of you are wondering if he is the father and if he is involved and I can not tell you. This is for him to say not me. I can say I am excited for this little one to come into the world. I also have a name for either sex, but it is a surprise."

" Well he is an idiot for letting you go.I mean you are amazing. If I wasn't married I would be after you. I mean I could set you up with someone. Harry Styles? Tom Holland?" James asked, making the audience laugh and holler with agreements. 

(Y/N) smiles sweetly as she shakes her head. " I think I shouldn't date right now. I do have a baby coming soon so they will take up most of my time. I am also going on tour as soon as I can. Currently, I am working on more songs and a few surprises. " 

Nodding,James smiles as he had a game for them to play. " That's great! However,after this commercial break we have a game for you. You know I like helping others find their match and now it's your turn. " 

(Y/N) eyes widen slightly as she did not know what to say. She couldn't even think about going on a date with another man that wasn't Shawn. 

***

" Welcome back. We are here with (Y/N) and it's time to play late late live Tinder. We have a fantastic group of guys waiting for you. Let's see if your perfect is here today." 

She nods, internally dreading what's about to come. 'I should read these email more carefully. ' 

" Do you have any preference? What is your celebrity crush?" 

" I do have a preference, but right now I'm open minded. That's a hard one because it can go from Benedict Cumberbatch to Tom Holland to Bill Skarsgård to Eddie Redmayne to etc." Cheers in the audience can be heard as they are fans of the actors.

" At least that's wide range of guys. Okay how this works is the guys will come out one by one. They will present themselves here at the phone. You will take your form finger and swipe right if you like the guy and swipe left of you don't. The right swipe will sit in the chairs and the left will force to fall in the ball pit. Swipe wisely cause you only have three guys in the last round. " 

" Let's bring out the first guy. "  Her eyes widen slightly at the first guy that came out. He was short,she could tell easily. He kind of reminded her of someone, but could not replace who.

" Liam. 24. I don't know if I like he put no effort in. What do you think?" 

She sighs as she swipes left. " I'm sorry. " Covers her eyes as she hears his body fall in the ball pit.

" That was fast. Let's move on." The next guy that walked out had brown hair, blue eye and green eye that shone with excitement. He was wearing a black blazer over a white shirt and black slacks. " Kaden, 23. What do we think?" Tilting her head, (Y/N) knew she liked him, but didn't want to automatically say yes. Tilting her head, smiling happily as she nods her head and swipes right. 

The third guy come out, fixing his shirt. His black curls bouncing on his head, covering his hazel eyes. He's built and could tell he worked out. His whole look of being an athlete was thrown off by the big block glasses that he wore. " Montgomery, 20." 

(Y/N) finally chose three guys and was still freaking out. She knew that Kaden was the guy she wanted to go on a date, but felt this was wrong. 'It's not like Shawn waited a long time before getting with Camila." 

(Y/N) can still remember reading about the two spotted kissing. The heartache of knowing their relationship was really over. There was no chance for them to rekindle their relationship.  The sudden illness taking over. Fighting to just get out of bed or even eat. Her manager coming over to try and help her. 

James gets her attention since it was time for her to pick. " Kaden." She said, softly as she fights the urge to leave. Kaden comes and gives her a hug, kissing her cheek.

****

Kaden brings out the chair for (Y/N) before scooting her in. He then sits in his seat as he thinks about what to say. 

" This must be awkward for you." He blurts out, blushing at what he said. ( Y/N) just laughs and shakes it off. " A little but not the worst way to get a date."

Kaden and (Y/N) spent most of the date getting to know each other. They found out they had similar likes and bonded over certain things.  She couldn't believe that she was willing to put her heart out there again after Shawn, but there was just something about Kaden. 

She felt like she could just be her and not the famous (Y/N). Be more adventurous and do things she never would have done with Shawn. 

_________________________________________

3 months ago

Shawn was on his phone trying to get in contact with (Y/N). He needed answers and he wanted them now. He did not know what he was feeling at the moment. Sad that he wasn't there for her. Mad that she didn't tell him as soon as she found out. Happy that he was going to be a father or scared that he will be taking care of an actual human being. 

Nothing. She did not answer him.

2 months ago

Shawn was going crazy. He canceled his tour to deal with the big news he just received a while ago. He kept trying to get in contact with her, but couldn't. 

When they broke up, she changed her number and moved. Her social media accounts were changed to private and it seemed like she was a ghost. Until one day he got a message.

Unknown

I heard you wanted to talk. I'll come by tomorrow and make sure your new girlfriend isn't there. I do not want anything from you. 

He couldn't believe it. Now she wanted to respond to him! He was frustrated that she texted him out of the blue when he tried to get in touch with her. He did feel guilty when she talked about Camilla. 

He knew that she would have seen the news, but he didn't really think about it at the time. He was just trying to get over the heartbreak of her leaving. As well as the confusing feeling he has for Camila, not knowing if its romantic or simply lust.

****

Knock. Knock.

Shawn Mendes was nervous. He didn't know how the interaction will go. Slowly, he opened the door and see (Y/N) in a short dress that showed off her belly. He wanted to reach his hand out to feel the bump, but fought the urge. 

She enters the room, gracefully as if she was not impacted on seeing him again. The two sat at the table, both staring at each other with uncertainty. 

" How are you?" She asked, in a soft spoken tone. 

" Good. Good. " He repeated, not knowing what else to say. 

" I'm pregnant with your child. No one has to know about you being the father if that's what you want. If you don't want to be part of their life, then tell me now. I will not let you debate on if you will be in their life. I will not let you hurt this child like my father did," she said sternly, as she rubbed her belly. 

Shawn was speechless. He did not believe that she would think so low of him. " I want to be there for the child and you. I'm sorry about our relationship. I stopped trying. I know it was wrong, but I do still love you. I know this won't fix things. I just want to be apart of both of your life. "

(Y/N) smiles faintly as she felt the baby kick. Grabbing his hand, she gently place his hand on her stomach. His eyes widen slightly at the feeling of the baby's little leg kicking. A soft smile grows on Shawn's face as he starts to realize this is really happening. 

" Fine, but I have rules you have to follow. I want you to make time for this baby. Also, no touring when they are old. I want them to get educated. " 

Now

Shawn was watching James Corden show because he knew (Y/N) was a guest. He couldn't help but check up on her every now and then. She is the mother of his child. 

****** The Show ******

James sat in between (Y/N) and Kaden. His hands in both of theirs as he smiles at the audience. " So how was the date, Kaden?" 

Kaden just smiles brightly as he glanced at the women. " It was really great. I love to have another opportunity to learn more of this amazing young woman. I had a great time, but maybe have better food. " Laughter could be heard in the audience at James unimpressed look. 

" Better food? I have you know we had an excellent chef prepare the food. What about you, (Y/N)?" 

She bites her lower lip nervously, wincing as she felt the baby kick. " Well, I know  this little one likes him. I do too and I would not mind to learning more about him either." 

" On three say yes or no to another date. One… Two ...Three!" 

" Yes," they both said simultaneously as the crowd cheers for the two. 

****** Show End ******

Shawn did not know what to do. Deep down he knew he was jealous, but that did not make sense. He is with Camila now and he should be happy for (Y/N). I'm just worried because she is carrying my baby,' he thought trying to convince himself.

Ring. Ring.

"Hello?" 

" My water…..ah…..broke ...hospital…secret…" she said, breathing heavily as she grits her teeth. The pain hits her as she lets out a cry.

Taglist

@champagnesugamama

@Alexisbronzwick2003

#shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes #tv show #shawn #shawn mendes fic #shawn peter raul mendes #reader interactive #reader input #reader insert #reader #relationship #reference #reading #james #james corden #late late night with james corden #late late london #late late show #late late dodgeball #pregnant reader #pregnancy #pregnant #pregblr #anger #happy #sad #singer

[thoughtremixer]

How I managed to get unlimited Internet for $25*

*There’s a few catches to it, but I’ll make this quick: if you are thinking more than one device, heavy gaming or thinking this is life in the fast lane... well, you’ll be disappointed. Also, this is from someone who used this service and I’m telling you... you’ll be unhappy.

How much do I pay for Home Internet service? $25/month for an unlimited hotspot... with a lot of catches. If you’re thinking “oh, I’m going to use this to power my entire home”... skip this post, don’t bother. You’re not going to get as much out of this, I PROMISE you.

Matter of fact, let me tell you who this post is for:

You want Internet Service for one device or you don’t mind swapping devices on this one connection.

It’s for your home connection so that you can reduce your dependence on your cell phone’s data plan when you’re home... or even when you’re out and about.

You’re not a gamer, you’re not planning on using it for heavy downloads, and you don’t mind tapping out at 5MB/s.

You don’t mind your data being slowed down at random times.

A secondary connection for when you’re outside your home and you don’t want to use public hotspots.

You truly understand “you get what you paid for”...

If you’re still reading and want to know what I’m talking about, then this is for you. It’s a system I currently use and when I’m at home, it’s my main internet connection for now. Once I move to a better place, I plan on dropping this plan as I’ll be getting something better than this.

But here’s how I did it...

1) Sign up for Visible and get the cheap R2 phone.

Visible is an Mobile Virtual Network Operator (MVNO) owned by Verizon. They will say they worked independent of them, but don’t be fooled by that. Visible is to Verizon as Metro by T-Mobile is to T-Mobile... it’s a prepaid division marketed as another company.

https://www.visible.com

Anyway, they offer one plan only... unlimited Internet, uncapped for $40 on your cell phone. Now, you can use your own cell phone, but the chances of it working with their company is low unless it’s an Apple phone. Got Apple? Great. Anything else? It’s a hit and miss. It’s best to check with them if you want to use your phone with them. But this ISN’T about that. This is about cheap Internet for your other device.

What you’ll do instead if buy their $19 R2 phone. For a budget phone, it’s subpar. I used to own Motorola’s that have more power than the R2. But it has a capable camera on it. However, the most important part is the hotspot, which it offers. We’re not interested in the features of the phone, but of the hotspot.

However, you’ll noticed that I said “$40″... so how do I pay $25/month? Well, that’s where step two comes in.

2) Find a “party”.

Visible got a family plan which is unique in a few ways. For starters, you don’t need to sign up your family. All you need to do is find 3 other people that are willing to split the bill and for each person, Visible will discount you and them by $5... all the way to $15, lowering the bill to $25. Now, what if one person in the party doesn’t pay? You don’t deal with them, the phone company do. So, you can sign up for a stranger’s “party” and not worry unless the person cancels their service... which could happen, but most likely won’t. And if they do, you can find a sub that will take their place.

Now, if you tried the service and you want to form your own party, you can do that. However, if you don’t want to find people to join and want to join someone’s party, you can via this reddit:

https://www.reddit.com/r/VisiblePartyPay/

Look through the links, login to your account and boom, you’re paying $25/month for the life of your account.

3) Get your phone and know the limits

Once you get your R2, you have to set it up with Visible. It can take a few minutes to a few hours. However, the most difficult part of the set up is... the Google account. Oh, you already have one? Then it’s not that difficult. It’s just another device you’re going to add to your account. If you already have an android phone, I suggest skipping to the parts that matter and try not to reinstall anything. You can use the phone just like your other phones, but at 8 GBs of space, you’re probably best just limiting it to just a hotspot. Set up the hotspot to your preferences and flip it on. Now, connect your device to it and voila... Internet for $25/month.

FAQ:

You can probably play some games. I played Hearthstone and some simple online games without issues. But don’t expect to play games that are graphic intense without some serious lag. For example: I use a cloud service called Shadow as a Secondary PC (long story). Even though it can run with just 5 MBs of bandwidth, it lags because the speed will not hold steady. And lagging in gaming means death. So, unless it’s low stakes, don’t treat this as a lifeline.

Yes, you can watch Netflix and stream video. If you want high quality tho, you’re probably going to struggle. DVD is the best it can do. The quality of my Netflix streaming or any streaming for that matter is top notch as I’m happy with 720p. I don’t need 1040p or even 4K.

Yes, it’s really unlimited. (peep the image below)

To prolong battery life, I plug the phone out of the charger and let it sit as any phone. Once it’s below 15%, I plug it back in and let it charge up to 100% and repeat the process. Treating it like a regular phone instead of keeping it plug in is old-fashioned, but a better way than to keep the phone plugged in 24/7. That will wear out the battery faster.

I could use it outside of my home. It’s a mobile phone, not a fixed location. So, you will have a second phone number. It’s a phone service which I use as a secondary line.

The Internet on the phone itself is faster than on another device. It’s meant to be used as a mobile phone service. I’m just retooling it.

R2 uses Android 9. The chances of it being upgraded to 10 is low.

You can hook it up to one device that is capable of using the Internet. It could be a tablet, a laptop, a desktop with a wireless networking card, or a game system for updates and download of files.

Since the phone is cheap, you can’t put insurance on it. It’s $19, brah.

I don’t carry around this phone day-to-day anymore. It’s redundant on my part since I have a more capable phone.

The phone I have now was intended to be used with this phone service, but sadly, the model wasn’t compatible. Otherwise, I would have cut my phone bill down by a lot. With that being said, I didn’t test this phone service beyond data.

I haven’t lost the ability to use the phone’s data once during my 4 months of continuous use. The only interruption was in April, where I simply stop paying for the phone bill.

Yes, there is a way to bypass the one device limit, but it requires hardware and the speed of service isn’t worth going beyond one device, so don’t do it.

Yes, Visble is okay with you using it exclusively as a hotspot.

If you’re wondering why I only used 40 GBs and not skyrocket above 100 GBs, it’s for a few reasons, the major one being I have spotty Internet coverage at home and used this as a secondary line and outside during the month of February. I’m only home during the evening. But I will say this... the reason that it skyrocketed at the end of February is because I put in on a PS4 to install an update to Spiderman and system updates.

The catches:

As you already know, it’s one device per hotspot connection.

It’s another phone to manage, unless you use your own phone.

The suggested phone itself is very limited in space as well as specs. A low budget Motorola will likely have more power than this phone. So, if you do use this phone as a phone, make it a low-stakes situation or a backup.

Depending on where you live, your internet speeds may slow down during prime times.

Service seems to be a hit and miss at times.

Talking to customer support is also a hit and miss. It’s literally an app or website. No phone service, just chat support with email as a second place to catch them.

Never tested it as a full-time service. It’s only at one location.

You may pay more than $25/month if someone leaves the party, but the bill will be between $30 to $40, which is still manageable.

It’s Verizon, which means they are tricky to pin down when it comes to the Net itself.

So, if you think this is useful, you can give it a try. If this article helped you out, maybe throw some funds my way.

https://ko-fi.com/nukirk

https://cash.app/$nufuturepro

Disclaimer: My experiences are mines alone. Your experiences may vary.

#Internet #cheap internet #phone service

[roseelise]

The Weather // Dylan O’brien

Reposting all my writings from @r0s3mm, my main blog, it is not stolen or plagiarized. All my works on my masterlist are main unless stated otherwise.

Hello! Welcome to 2-h, the back up account of @r0s3mm, I’ll be posting my works on here too until (hopefully) my blog gets restored and if not this will become my main blog.

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x ofc!Alice

Word Count: 5129

Author’s note/warnings: break up? Swearing? Reader and Dylan talking about their relationship, a series of voicemail reader sends Dylan at different moments after their relationship ends.

Based off of the song: Lawrence - “The Weather”

Come say “Hi!” Wattpad

Masterlist

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“Hey D’, it’s me, leaving you a message on your voicemail… again. Listen, I know we agreed to give each other space but I just wanted to let you know that your change of address probs didn’t go through because I got your new script at home- hum, at my place. I’ll just send it to Liz’s office… Oh, also I wanted to know if you wanted me to box up and send you the rest of the stuff you have here, there’s a few sweatshirts and other clothing items, as your mom would say. Okay, so you don’t have to call me back, you can text me, maybe even email me. I can leave your stuff at your mom’s house, I’m seeing Jules on the 23rd, so yeah … whatever you feel good with. Ok, bye.”

“I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together ‘Cause even when the sky is grey, I’m feeling blue And though the winds are always changing And the clouds are rearranging A part of me will always be in love with you”

I hung up the phone and placed it in my jeans’ back pocket and turned up the volume from the TV.

“A heatwave this week turned the city of Anaheim, home to Disneyland, into the hottest place in theUnited States. The Tick fire forced 50,000 people to flee their homes, many in the mid…” The weather man on the tv announced as I picked up the package with Liz’s name on it from a tv or movie set in LA, taking back my cell phone, I texted Liz, Dylan’s manager telling her I’d be sending her the script in the next few days, putting the block of pages on the bench next to the front door, I sat down next to it as the news kept playing as a background noise accompanied by the rain falling down harshly on the large windows.

It had been a little bit over 5 months and I still hadn’t tidy up from his big move, a lot of empty and piled up boxes were on the floor next to the sliding door, there were empty spaces on the wall and people who would be coming in the apartment could easily guess that the large white wall used to be full, filled with baseball jersey’s, many pictures, music record, stickers of liquor brand, some posters and a few music instruments.

“Hi Jules, it’s me, are we still on for the 23rd? Ok great then, I’ll pick you up. You got any news from your brother? Yeah, I know, I asked you to refuse if I asked but I just wanna make sure that with his new place he’s good and away from the fires and that he’s … that he’s safe y’know? Ok great then, just maybe tell him to- actually you know what? Never mind. I gotta go, but I’ll text you this week… alright bye!”

“There’s a fire in LA Since you moved there back in May I wonder, should I call to see if you’re alright? Yeah, you’re a million miles away But I still think of you each day And hope the weather doesn’t keep you cold tonight”

After picking up what was on the floor and actually tidying up the apartment, I put on my rain boots with my coat and an umbrella before going out the door with the trash and some things that I wanted to get rid of. I walked the streets of the city, listening to the chaotic sounds, the loud voices and the fast steps of those who wanted to escape the rain. Walking to the Blue Ribbon Brasserie, I turned left to get to Sullivan St and passed the convenience store and got myself a few stamps and envelopes for the thank you notes I still had to write after the home warming gifts I received a while back. I put my earphones in my ear as I gave the cashier the money and put everything in my purse. As I entered the restaurant, I took off my coat and held it tightly against me, my eyes falling on a couple sitting at the bar, both a drink in hand and completely enamored with each other.

“Table for one miss?” The host asks taking a menu.

“Yes, thank you.” I smiled at the young man.

I followed him to a table near the windows. He pulled my chair for me to sit. I smiled at him and thanked him.

“What would you like to start with?”

“Glass of white wine, if you have it. Actually no, I’ll get a G&T, please”

“Right away, ma’am” The waiter’s New Yorker accent came through and I smiled at him as I picked up the menu and swiftly looked through it, already knowing what I wanted to eat as soon as I had left my apartment.

The rain was still pattering against the window and it gave a nice ambient sound to the restaurant that for once was almost empty on a Monday afternoon. A few minutes later, the waiter came back with my drink, putting a squared napkin underneath.

“Would you like to order now, or would you like a few more minutes?”

“I’ll order now, thank you. So, I’ll get the chicken barley soup with the steak, please.”

He smiled, took the menu from my hands and left to another table. I watched the other waiters walk around with platters of food as people started to come in. Usually the restaurant would be busy from opening to the time it closed but today felt different. I held the glass in my hands as I sipped it slowly taking the wedge of lime off of it and biting into it and letting it drop on the piece of paper after draining it of its juice.

As the waiter approached my table and put my soup down my phone’s screen lit up with Dylan’s name and contact photo. I had taken the picture when we were out one day and waiting to cross the street. My finger swiped the screen to answer.

“Ali? Hey, it’s Dylan…” His voice rang through my ear, it was hoarse and dry. He had been smoking.

“Yeah, I know. Your contact info popped up.” I said, silently slurping my soup.

“Oh, wasn’t sure if you had gotten rid of it. Hum, I- I thought it’d be better to call you rather than text you and I don’t even know the last time I sent an email that wasn’t for work.” He chuckled quietly but didn’t hear a sound from the other side. “So, for my stuff you can keep it, I won’t really need it, but if you really wanna get rid of it, I can transfer you the money for the delivery and stuff. It-It’s however you want it.”

“Yeah, no. I’ll send it to you or Liz, I wanna start over with a clean slate. I also found a few caps of yours earlier when I was cleaning up, so I’ll send those over as well.” I said finishing the rest of my soup. It was silent on the other side of the line for a few seconds before I heard him sigh.

“A, maybe we should talk? Y’know, actually have a conversation. The only times we’ve talked in the past few months were through voicemail and-”

“Sounds good Dylan, just right now isn’t the right moment. I’m out at a restaurant and I don’t think I can actually do this right now and in public.” I said dryly my voice full of emotion. A waiter came to pick up the now empty bowl and I smiled up at him.

“Yeah okay. Is everything good up there? Are you feeling good?”

“Yep, I’m fine, we’re all fine.”

“That’s good. I feel a bit far away from everyone, y’know ?!”

“Yeah, are- are you okay? I’ve seen the news on the TV about the fires. I was worried.” I said the last part quietly.

“I’m fine too, yeah, you don’t have to worry. Pretty sure Jules or my mom would have rung you up if something had happened.”

“Yeah probably…” I whispered. “Did you start smoking again? Your voice sounded funny when I answered.” I said catching the eye of the waiter that was bringing me my steak. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, miss. Hope you’ll enjoy” The small exchange between the waiter and I was soon over, and I picked up a fry.

“Yeah, a little. It was weird being in LA, felt nervous at first and I couldn’t shake it after. Are you at Blue Ribbon?”

“You were nervous? Dyl’ you’ve been to LA a hundred times for filming and shit and yeah I am.” I said, picking at the veggies in my plate.

“I never actually lived there for more than four or five months, and usually I’m not alone.”

“Don’t.” I said loudly, I lifted my head and looked at other costumers. “Listen I gotta go.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to-”

I hung up and went to eat my dinner and finishing my drink quickly. After paying my bill, I put my coat back on, the weather would be a little chillier than earlier. Halloween was approaching and carved in pumpkins were starting to make an appearance on people’s doorstep and balconies. The rain from earlier had stopped and had been replaced by clouds and sun light.

“So, I won’t talk about the weather No, I won’t talk about the weather I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together 'Cause even when the sky is grey, I’m feeling blue And though the winds are always changing And the clouds are rearranging A part of me will always be in love with you”

Music was playing loudly in the apartment, the vacuum loud over it and it felt as if the sun had disappeared from the sky. Halloween was even closer now, only 8 days away. I checked the time, 10:37, Jules would be here in just under two hours. There were two boxes full of clothes, pictures, sports’ games tickets and damaged drumsticks, that I will have to leave in Jules’ car at the end of the day. The two of us had planned to get lunch and then hang out. She told me that some of our friends and her were planning a Halloween party and that they insisted that I come “You gotta get out of your hiding place, Alice!” They had screamed at me through the phone almost a month ago. Even if the weather wasn’t really great, Julia insisted we leave her car at my place and walk.

I had gotten ready slowly, music still blasting through the small speaker when it suddenly stopped. Thinking it was Julia texting me she had arrived I jogged to get to my phone in the other room, it was the other O’Brien child.

“Hello?” I answered the phone, putting it on speaker while I walked back to the bathroom to finish brushing my teeth. “Ali, are you busy? I tried calling you a couple times.” I looked at the screen where I had missed a few phone calls. “M’getting ready to spend the day with your sister actually. Can you make it quick?” I said spitting in the sink and rinsing my mouth. “I just wanted to know if right now would be a good time to have that conversation I talked about last week…?” I stopped and looked at my phone and sighed. “Your sister’s supposed to pick me up in ten minutes, think you can finish in ten minutes?” A silence was heard before light chuckling and I swear I could picture in my mind how he looked in that exact moment. “What?” “‘Nothing. Look, why don’t we try to set up a date and time for us to talk? I think it’d be good. Maybe clarify things up a bit.” “Yeah sure.” The doorbell buzzed, I sighed, picked up the phone putting it against my ear and taking it off speaker mode. “Listen Jules here and I’ve- wait a sec” I told him before shooting Julia a one letter text to tell her I was on my way and putting on my shoes and coat. “Ok, so your sister’s here. I gotta go but if you call me back tonight at around 5, your time I should be back home and mentally prepared to have that conversation you want us to have.” I locked my door and ran down the steps to stop in front of the blue car with my friend resting against it, excitedly waving at me, I walked to the car. “So, I really gotta leave now, but don’t think I’m excited about this. I’m doing this for you.” “I don’t want to make you do this if you’re not ready A’.” He says, guilt overflowing the other emotion in his voice. “It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tonight.” I hung up and put my head in my hand, scratching my hairline and walking the rest of the distance to Jules.

“So, I won’t talk about the weather No, I won’t talk about the weather I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together And it’s hard to say if we will ever be But I’ll admit my greatest fear is that The air will never clear So I just wish we could talk like you and me”

“Who was that?” Jules asked me as we started walking towards the larger and busier streets. “Damn you, O’Brien’s.” I mumbled as I pulled her into a greeting side hug. “Oh my god, was it Dylan? Are y’all talking again?” She was too excited for her own good. “Not really, I just wanted to know what he wanted me to do with the stuff of his left at the apartment and he started saying how we should talk about what happened.” “Yeah, I’m not still a hundred percent clear on that, by the way. I don’t think any of us expected you guys to break up after 4 years.” “Don’t remind me, please” I begged as I opened the door to the small café.

When we entered, I looked around for either an empty table or counter seats. I nudged Jules and pointed to a small table at the very back near the window and looked at her, watching for an answer.

“Sure.” She shrugged and took a newspaper off the stand we were standing next to.

We sat down and she opened the menu, looking through it as a woman brought us glasses of water.

“Hello ladies, how are you today?” “We’re good, Jane, thanks.” I asked sipping the iced water. “What about you?” Jules asked putting the cardboard menu down. “Oh, I am very good thank you” She said a huge grin on her face as she extended her left hand, on it a very beautiful diamond engagement ring. “You are fucking kidding me! Oh, my fuck!” Jules exclaimed jumping up and down. She and Jane were college friends, I had met her through Jules at a party a few years back. “Congratulations Jane!” I said leaning in for a hug and sitting back down.

Jane and Jules were standing up and talking in loud whispers as to not fully disturb the other customers. I picked up my cell phone and opened the messages app and clicked on Dylan’s conversation as a reflex before making the screen turn black and setting it back on the table.

“Hey Alice, I haven’t seen much of you in the past two months, but you and Dylan are so invited! Maybe you’ll be in my situation in a few months!” She said cheery, my head snapped up at the mention of my ex-boyfriend and I looked at Jules.

“What? What did I say?” Jane looked back and forth between us. “Y’know when I told you that my brother went to L.A to film a new project?” Jane nods, “Well it wasn’t fully true, yes he is filming something, but he also moved to L.A” Jane’s eyes go from Jules to me. “Dyl and I broke up 5 months ago …” I said picking my phone up again to play with something. Anxiety filling my body and making my fingers shake at the mention of the break-up.

The waitress just sits down next to me and pulls me to her and squeezes me telling me encouraging words before she is called back to the counter.

“The usual?” She asks and Jules and I nod with a smile. “I think we’ll take it to go, if you don’t mind.” Jules says as she finishes her glass of water, Jane’s eyes go over one last time before going to the kitchen.

When we leave the little café/diner we decide to walk through a park that’s nearby, eating our paninis and drinking our mango and strawberry smoothies.

“Hey,” Jules nudges me. “They added something to your bag…” I look at her a put my hand in the bag. “It’s a muffin?” Jules says unsure. “What?” My word stays stuck in my throat. “Pretty fucking sure Janey didn’t tell Henry that Dylan and I were broken up” “Henry? The cook?” I nod and put the muffin back in the paper bag. “Yeah, hum, when Henry started working there Dyl and I went there to get you a smoothie and Henry was there and he just started hitting on him and like he knew that we were together but I guess it was a running gag between them and whenever I went Henry would put a muffin in the bag for your brother with a note” I laugh remembering the memory. “Once,” I laugh stopping us from walking further. “Dylan went to pick up our order to bring back to his apartment, before we moved in, and he actually gave Henry his number … Anyway, yeah.”

Jules looks at me and pulls me to her side as I hold the bag tightly. “You miss him, huh?”. I put my head on her shoulder, “you’ve got no fucking idea”

We keep walking and talking, and I can see that she is trying really hard to change my ideas. We go into stores and try on stuff without buying anything, we just spend an afternoon hanging out and it feels so good.

At around seven thirty we part, and we walk back to my apartment, I put the boxes that I left in the lobby in her car and wave her off. Clutching the paper bag, I grab my keys from my coat’s pocket, unlock the main door before going to the building’s mailboxes, gathering my mail and going through the lobby’s door to wave to Sam, the receptionist, before going up the stairs since the elevator hasn’t been fixed in 4 months. As I get onto my floor, I wave at my neighbor who exits his apartment as he looks at my door. I turn the corner and see that my door is opened, fearing the worst I grab a baseball bat sitting near the door that my father forgot last weekend when he came over. I hear soft music coming from the record player sitting in the living room, the smell of ham and cheese stuffed chicken filled the place and for a moment I thought my mother had come to New York … I entered the kitchen with the bat lowered down knowing who was in my apartment from the humming they made.

“I made dinner” Dylan says turning around and leaning his back on the counter, he pushes himself off of the counter.

“I can see that.” I huff out not looking at him. “What are you doing here?” I ask him, putting my coat on the back of the chair and my purse on the table.

“I- I wanted to talk.” He says taking a step towards me.

“Yeah, I know I was about to call you … We said we would talk tonight, on the phone” He nods slowly and turns around to put food in two plates. He hands me one and gesture for me to sit.

“I’m not a fan of phones.”

“Yeah I know that, we could’ve facetimed or something.” I pick at my Brussel sprouts, usually loving the way he made them, but seeing here tonight caught me off guard.

I actually look at him for the first time tonight, he hasn’t changed that much, his hair is a little bit longer though, he is hungrily eating the food and nervously keeps his head down.

“What happened?” He suddenly says, his head lifting and eyes connecting with mine. I take in a short breath and can’t look away.

“What?” I shake my head and look down. I stand up and put as much distance between him and I as physically can while still being in the same room.

“What happened between us?”

“I can’t say that I honestly know. We weren’t on the same path; we didn’t want the same things … I don’t know” I mumble picking and my chewed-up nails, a habit I had taken up from him.

“Ok so why didn’t work, it’s not distance because god knows we’ve done that before, none of us were unfaithful” I grimace at the thought of him with another woman and look at him, he notices, and pain quickly passes behind his hazel eyes. “I- I don’t think, hope not, we’ve fallen out of love… So, what happened Al’?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say right now, showing up at my apartment at fucking 8 …” I say my voice low and full of emotions.

“We agreed to talk” He says standing up and talking another step closer.

“I agreed to talk to you on the phone because even if it’s been five months, I can’t look at you right now!” I say looking at the shirt he’s wearing

“Did you send my stuff yet?” He asks changing the subject and taking another step, now only at an arm’s length from me.

“I actually gave the boxes to Jules earlier. Left em’ in the lobby and gave them to her when she left.” He nods silently, turns around before starting to put away the food, knowing we probably would not be eating tonight. The domestic choreography started as we moved around each other with ease and habit, but I still tried to keep a distance between us. Without having to consult each other I bent down to a cupboard to grab a few Tupperware’s and set them on the counter as he passed me the now empty pots and pans ready to be rinsed off. While we were quietly washing the dishes, the music in the back changed, but still fit the ambiance perfectly. He walked to the furthest and lowest cupboard where the large serving plates used to be and opened it to now find the spices.

“You changed the plates?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Hum, yeah didn’t have much of a choice, I couldn’t reach the spices from where they were, and I don’t use the serving plates all that much.” I shrug as he picks up the utensils and dries them off. He walks around me to the drawer where they’ve always been and opens it slowly, his hand supporting underneath.

“Oh no, I got fixed, it’s fine”

“Oh okay… Did your dad came all the way from Oregon or did hum…?” He asks and I smile at what he’s really asking me.

“No, I actually asked Pat to come over a month ago, he repaired a few things here and there” I smile warmly at him and his expression that went from sad to relieved.

“You- you called my dad?” He asks as he turns around to look at me and rests against the counter.

“I mean, yeah, is that okay?” I ask him, giving him a pot to dry off.

“Of course, yeah, no- no worries, heh.” He chuckles. “I’m just happy you guys stayed in contact. They adore you, y’know, my parents. Almost like a second daughter.”

“Well that’s just wrong” I mumble quickly my eyes large, falling back into the familiarity that is Dylan.

“What why?” He asks

“That would make us “brother and sister”” I finish washing the last dish and hand it to him.

“Oh yeah, so wrong. So, fucking wrong” He says under his breath and I laugh a little as I help him put away the plates. I open a cupboard and look up to see that it is far beyond my reach and I make a noise that attracts his attention. “Oh wait, I’ll get it” He says before taking large strides towards me. I quickly move to the side and put the plate on the counter so that he can pick it up.

We finish putting everything away in silence and I go sit on the couch as he washes his hands. A few seconds later he joins me and sit on the other side of the couch. Tears pool at my eyes and I sniffle, I can feel his eyes on me, I hear him shift on the couch, so his front was towards me.

“No, I won’t talk about the weather Not with you, we’re not together But I wonder if we’re ever really through 'Cause if we’re talking about whether You and I shouldn’t be together Oh, I know I’ll always be in love with you Oh yes, I know I’ll always be in love with you”

“It hurts so much” I whimper as I wipe away a tear that’s fallen on my cheek. “I don’t know what fucking happened. We didn’t get to talk, we-“

I freeze when I feel him starting to get closer to wipe away more tears that are now falling down my neck. I nuzzle my head into his large hand.

“I’m so sorry, for everything” He says his face in my hair.

“Don’t. It is not your fault. No, the situation was not ideal you having to leave for filming after the initial event, but it is not your fault. I think we just thought we were untouchable.” I say never facing him, my eyes fixed on the stickers stuck on the wooden table.

“But still, if I hadn’t talked about me moving back to L.A we could’ve talked and work things out.”

“Stop it.” I lick my lips attracting his eyes to the area as I turn to really look at him for the first time in months. “Dylan, it is not your fault, we had a weakness, we miscommunicated something got lost in what we told each other. I feel like I might’ve thought I was ready to leave the city to go to L.A but I wasn’t and maybe-“

“Say it again.” He suddenly says, cutting me off in my version of the events.

“What? Say what?”

“Say my name again, please.” His ton is full of hope and desperate at the same time.

I lock eyes with him and chuckle.

“Dylan” I enunciate each syllable.

“God. I missed you” He says, tears filling his eyes.

He grabs me by my waist and pulls me on his lap.

His face nuzzles itself in my neck and I feel a single tear rolling down my neck followed by a few soft kisses.

“I just got used to you not being there and knowing you wouldn’t come back. I didn’t like that.” I mumble against his temple. “Don’t say that. You know I’ll always come back to you.” He takes my hand in his and kiss the silver band around my pointer finger.

We part and I just stare at him, his eyes fall on me with the softest look I have ever seen.

“You almost didn’t come back once” I say softly thinking back on probably the hardest year of my life. My finger tracing the soft and ragged scar on his forehead and nose area, his eyes close at the sensation of my finger going around his face.

“I know. But baby I swear to you, you are stuck with me until the day I die, even then.” “Yeah okay, I’d be cool with that. But I want to take things slow. You have to go back to L.A for a few months.” “As soon as I’m finished over there I’m coming home.” He smiles at me and I stand up quickly from his lap and walk over where I put my stuff when I came in. “Oh my god I forgot.” I say quickly grabbing the object and walking back to him and plopping myself hard on his lap. “What’s that?” He looks at me with a smile. “It’s an impromptu welcome home gift, it might have gone stale a little though.” I give it to him and pull his face to kiss his moles that I missed oh so badly.

He opens the brown bag and puts his hand in and gets out a blueberry muffin.

“Oh Henry! My man” He says as he splits it in two and share half with me.

___________________________________

The morning after, I wake up at 9:45 in my bed, alone. I squeeze my eyes shut, not believing that I actually dreamt this whole thing. I check my phone to see if I have any messages and only one from Julia saying that she would be at my place around 11. As I text her to bring the boxes back I hear my bedroom door open and a smile stretches on my lips as I turn around to see Dylan walking in with freshly made hot cocoa and buttered toast.

“Oh, you’re too good to me, O’Brien” I smile and lean against him as he sits on the bed. “What makes you think that’s yours? You’ve got the good homemade bread and I fucking missed it” He says taking a bite.

Seeing him bite into the grilled piece of bread I only think of his lips.

“Dylan?” I say grabbing his face in my hand. “Hmm?” He swallows his piece of toast. “What’s up.” “You haven’t kissed me yet. I didn’t get to kiss you welcome back. Please, do it” I say in the most desperate tone I’ve ever heard myself talk. “Anything for you my love” He leans in and kiss me.

(ALSO HIS FUCKING TONGUE OMF)

#Stiles Stilinski #Teen Wolf #Dylan O'brien #maze runner #death cure #scorch trials #american assasin #kisses #stalia #stydia #mieczyslaw stiles stilinski #xofc #dylan o'brien one shot #the first time #dave hoffman #dave hodgman #mitch rapp

[prorevenge]

Someone stole 25k from me, it ended costing him half a million dollars.

A preamble:

I was married to a very OCD and pragmatic man. For example, for him, a big romantic gesture, had been to leave me alone for 24 hours at the hospital right after I had our son, so he could go pay bills and mow the lawn (20 years later I do understand he really did express love this way. But that’s another story)

I was in dire need of physical contacts because he’d never touched me, unless he wanted (very bland) sex, and also never ever kissed me.

The story is not about him, it’s only a preamble

So, I divorce him, not just for what’s above mind you, I wrote about it to explain the state of mind I was in when I met this other person that we’ll call PS.

PS was the total opposite, he was very in tunes with his emotions, he was very, very intense (this will be important later). He really expressed love like I thought I needed. On our first date, the waitress asked how long we had been together since he was so into me and touching me.

He made me feel amazing. He had a huge house and a rather flashy lifestyle, so I assumed he was really well off. He told me he owned a car wash and a phone marketing company.

Fast forward a bit, at this point we had been dating for about a year, and he had just asked me (and my son) to move in with him. I wasn’t 100% sure but he prepared the room for my son nonetheless. As I started spending more time in his house (still keeping mine) I also started to see strange behaviour. He’d be up all night, but sleep all day, I also overheard a few phone calls where I was telling people they owed money and needed to pay but the conversations didn’t fit with a carwash or phone marketing.

At some point, he told me he was having money problem he said huge clients were late in paying and that is was jeopardizing his house payments. So, I stupid me offered to help, I’m missing a part of this story because it started as me offering help with the house since we were there a lot (still had my house tho). but it ended up with me lending him 25K. I cannot remember that progression.

It was for 3 weeks he said. I’d have it all back in 3 weeks. 3 weeks…

That 25k$ came from my retirement savings/son’s college money, so I had to pay a fine to access it.

It’s also money it took me 10 years to put aside. That money was very important to me.

During those 3 weeks, I went out to have drinks with my friends… and found him on a date with another woman. I saw him French kissing another woman… I said nothing, went to his house, packed my shit and left.

So anyway, I thought he’d be an adult and would still give me the 25k the end of this 3 weeks. Big mistake.

Someone I knew told me he was glad I left and proceeded to tell me about him, he said PS was a junky, hooked on GHB, hence why he was so intense and so into his emotions. That also explained the erratic sleep/night patterns but the final blow what when he told me PS was also a con man. A “Specialist” in defrauding older people by phone., his so-called “phone marketing company”

In the beginning, I wasn’t sure I believed it, but then bits of what I had overheard in the last year started to make sense, And I realized it was all true. Back to this later.

I tried having my money back many different ways, none worked, I was at the end of my rope, and since it was in my year post-divorce (and during the 2008-2009 economic crash as well) I was poor as hell.

So this is what I did.

1st he had given me access to pay bills online (not to his bank accounts, but to his emails So I was able to investigate ALL his accounts with the same password, I printed/screenshotted every little bit of information relating to money. I found proof that he was indeed scamming people and found the people he “worked” with and even the name of the person at western union who facilitated the money transfer. I found out he was an organized criminal. I also found out he did this between the US and Canada. I started preparing strike 1.

Strike 1

So, for strike 1, I printed his face and the face of everyone working for/with him in defrauding people and left hundreds of flyers in his neighborhood. I also called the hotline for financial crime prevention in both Canada and the US and gave very specific details and names. (know that even if he had given me the money, this goes against my core values and I would have done the same thing either way) at this point, I was preparing strike 2 too

Strike 2

I was dumb in lending him money but I least I did it the right way, I wrote a check, I didn't do cash I wanted proof just in case. It would turn out to be a great idea. On the check, I had written that it was a loan. (Thank you, Judge Judy, for this tip)

Since he didn't pay me back, I prepared an invoice and sent it to me from his hacked email.

When the time came to do my taxes, I filed the 25K as an expense using this invoice. (I have many freelancers, I slid him as one of them) And it passed. Don’t ask me how I got his Social Security Number, I can’t remember, but I ended up having access to it so ratted him out to the IRS for hiding income. I found out later on through friends that the IRS started investigating him for unpaid taxed, I heard he had to pay 38% taxes on that 25k + pay a 20% fine for not declaring income.

At this point I was satisfied, I figured 9500$ in taxes plus +5k$ in fines was 50% of what he owed me, at least he didn’t get away with it all.

But remember I told you on the check I had written that it was a loan. So I took him to court and won (he didn't even show up), so he has to reimburse the full 25k plus court fees (plus what he owes to the IRS so it’s 39’500$ that he was to pay for not reimbursing 25k.)

To this day I still haven’t seen a cent, but the rest of the story makes it worthwhile.

At first, I thought the financial crime call I made had no effect, well it’s now the cherry on top. What I didn't know at the time is that the IRS would team up with Wire Fraud division and look at EVERYTHING he did, they were not able to catch him on the wire fraud, but and since the house he had did not fit with the money he was declaring, they got him on tax evasion and gave him a certain delay to pay back taxes, I heard it was only 3 months, but I don’t know if it’s accurate. They got him so good, they ended up freezing his accounts, and he LOST HIS HOUSE. The bank foreclosed it. And his debt to the IRS is still open, we are not in the US, so he won't go to jail for this, however.

But my 25k that he did not want to repay ended up costing him over half a million dollars. And since you cannot go bankrupt for a debt you owe to the government, I’m happy to tell you that at 40 yo, he had to move back with his parents and ask for welfare and will probably be paying this for the rest of his life!

This story is not finished however, I just learned that he now has a job as a concierge in the apartment building of his parents, so I’ll be contacting the court to have the money he owes me taken directly from his pay.

The thing is, he has NO idea I’m the culprit of all his bad fortune and he recently sent me a message telling me he misses me, that I was an angel for him and that he regrets what he did...

Well, not me looser, not me!

(source) story by (/u/eliksir_mtl)

#prorevenge #by /u/eliksir_mtl #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[inkyardpress]

Excerpt: Don’t Read the Comments by Eric Smith + Giveaway!

Divya

“Mom. We’ve been over this. Don’t read the comments,” I say, sighing as my mother stares at me with her fretful deep-set eyes. They’re dark green, just like mine, and stand out against her soft brown skin. Wrinkle lines trail out from the corners like thin tree branches, grown over a lifetime of worrying.

I wish I could wash away all of her worries, but I only seem to be causing her more lately.

“I’m just not comfortable with it anymore,” my mom counters. “I appreciate what you’re doing with…you know, your earnings or however that sponsor stuff works, but I can’t stand seeing what they’re saying about you on the internet.”

“So don’t read the comments!” I exclaim, reaching out and taking her hands in mine. Her palms are weathered, like the pages of the books she moves around at the library, and I can feel the creases in her skin as my fingers run over them. Bundles of multicolored bangles dangle from both of her wrists, clinking about lightly.

“How am I supposed to do that?” she asks, giving my hands a squeeze. “You’re my daughter. And they say such awful things. They don’t even know you. Breaks my heart.”

“What did I just say?” I ask, letting go of her hands, trying to give her my warmest it’s-going-to-be-okay smile. I know she only reads the blogs, the articles covering this and that, so she just sees the replies there, the sprawling comments—and not what people say on social media. Not what the trolls say about her. Because moms are the easiest target for those online monsters.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of that sign in your room with your slogan regarding comments,” Mom scoffs, shaking her head and getting to her feet. She groans a little as she pushes herself off the tiny sofa, which sinks in too much. Not in the comfortable way a squishy couch might, but in a this-piece-of-furniture-needs-to-be-thrown-away-because-it’s-probably-doing-irreversible-damage-to-my-back-and-internal-organs kind of way. She stretches her back, one hand on her waist, and I make a mental note to check online for furniture sales at Target or Ikea once she heads to work.

“Oof, I must have slept on it wrong,” Mom mutters, turning to look at me. But I know better. She’s saying that for my benefit. The air mattress on her bed frame—in lieu of an actual mattress—isn’t doing her back any favors.

I’d better add a cheap mattress to my list of things to search for later. Anything is better than her sleeping on what our family used to go camping with.

Still, I force myself to nod and say, “Probably.” If Mom knew how easily I saw through this dance of ours, the way we pretend that things are okay while everything is falling apart around us, she’d only worry more.

Maybe she does know. Maybe that’s part of the dance.

I avert my gaze from hers and glance down at my watch. It’s the latest in smartwatch tech from Samsung, a beautiful little thing that connects to my phone and computer, controls the streaming box on our television… Hell, if we could afford smart lights in our apartment, it could handle those, too. It’s nearly 8:00 p.m., which means my Glitch subscribers will be tuning in for my scheduled gaming stream of Reclaim the Sun at any minute. A couple social media notifications start lighting up the edges of the little screen, but it isn’t the unread messages or the time that taunt me.

It’s the date.

The end of June is only a few days away, which means the rent is due. How can my mom stand here and talk about me getting rid of my Glitch channel when it’s bringing in just enough revenue to help cover the rent? To pay for groceries? When the products I’m sent to review or sponsored to wear—and then consequently sell—have been keeping us afloat with at least a little money to walk around with?

“I’m going to start looking for a second job,” Mom says, her tone defeated.

“Wait, what?” I look away from my watch and feel my heartbeat quicken. “But if you do that—”

“I can finish these summer classes another time. Maybe next year—”

“No. No way.” I shake my head and suck air in through my gritted teeth. She’s worked so hard for this. We’ve worked so hard for this. “You only have a few more classes!”

“I can’t let you keep doing this.” She gestures toward my room, where my computer is.

“And I can’t let you work yourself to death for… What? This tiny apartment, while that asshole doesn’t do a damn thing to—”

“Divya. Language,” she scolds, but her tone is undermined by a soft grin peeking in at the corner of her mouth. “He’s still your fath—”

“I’ll do my part,” I say resolutely, stopping her from saying that word. “I can deal with it. I want to. You will not give up going to school. If you do that, he wins. Besides, I’ve…got some gadgets I can sell this month.”

“I just… I don’t want you giving up on your dreams, so I can keep chasing mine. I’m the parent. What does all this say about me?” My mom exhales, and I catch her lip quivering just a little. Then she inhales sharply, burying whatever was about to surface, and I almost smile, as weird as that sounds. It’s just our way, you know?

Take the pain in. Bury it down deep.

“We’re a team.” I reach out and grasp her hands again, and she inhales quickly once more.

It’s in these quiet moments we have together, wrestling with these challenges, that the anger I feel—the rage over this small apartment that’s replaced our home, the overdrafts in our bank accounts, all the time I’ve given up—is replaced with something else.

With how proud I am of her, for starting over the way she has.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve you.”

Deserve.

I feel my chest cave in a little at the word as I look again at the date on the beautiful display of this watch. I know I need to sell it. I know I do. The couch. That crappy mattress. My dwindling bank account. The upcoming bills.

The required sponsorship agreement to wear this watch in all my videos for a month, in exchange for keeping the watch, would be over in just a few days. I could easily get $500 for it on an auction site or maybe a little less at the used-electronics shop downtown. One means more money, but it also means having my address out there, which is something I avoid like the plague—though having friends like Rebekah mail the gadgets for me has proved a relatively safe way to do it. The other means less money, but the return is immediate, at least. Several of the employees there watch my stream, however, and conversations with them are often pretty awkward.

I’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, I’d get to keep this one thing. Isn’t that something I deserve? Between helping Mom with the rent while she finishes up school and pitching in for groceries and trying to put a little money aside for my own tuition in the fall at the community college… God, I’d at least earned this much, right?

The watch buzzes against my wrist, a pleasant feeling. As a text message flashes across the screen, I feel a pang of wonder and regret over how a display so small can still have a better resolution than the television in our living room.

THE GALAXY WAITS FOR NO ONE, YOU READY D1V?—COMMANDER (RE)BEKAH

I smile at the note from my producer-slash-best-friend, then look up as my mom makes her way toward the front door of our apartment, tossing a bag over her shoulder.

“I’ll be back around ten or so,” she says, sounding tired. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I always am,” I promise, walking over to give her a hug. It’s sweet, her constant reminders to be careful, to check in, especially since all I generally do while she’s gone is hang out in front of the computer. But I get it. Even the internet can be a dangerous place. The threats on social media and the emails that I get—all sent by anonymous trolls with untraceable accounts—are proof of that.

Still, as soon as the door closes, I bolt across the living room and into my small bedroom, which is basically just a bed, a tiny dresser, and my workstation. I’ve kept it simple since the move and my parents split.

The only thing that’s far from simple is my gaming rig.

When my Glitch stream hit critical mass at one hundred thousand subscribers about a year and a half ago, a gaming company was kind enough to sponsor my rig. It’s extravagant to the point of being comical, with bright neon-blue lighting pouring out the back of the system and a clear case that shows off the needless LED illumination. Like having shiny lights makes it go any faster. I never got it when dudes at my school put flashy lights on their cars, and I don’t get it any more on a computer.

But it was free, so I’m certainly not going to complain.

I shake the mouse to awaken the sleeping monster, and my widescreen LED monitor flashes to life. It’s one of those screens that bend toward the edges, the curves of the monitor bordering on sexy. I adjust my webcam, which—along with my beaten-up Ikea table that’s not even a desk—is one of the few non-sponsored things in my space. It’s an aging thing, but the resolution is still HD and flawless, so unless a free one is somehow going to drop into my lap—and it probably won’t, because you can’t show off a web camera in a digital stream or a recorded sponsored video when you’re filming with said camera—it’ll do the trick.

I navigate over to Glitch and open my streaming application. Almost immediately, Rebekah’s face pops up in a little window on the edge of my screen. I grin at the sight of her new hairstyle, her usually blonde and spiky hair now dyed a brilliant shade of blood orange, a hue as vibrant as her personality. The sides of her head are buzzed, too, and the overall effect is awesome.

Rebekah smiles and waves at me. “You ready to explore the cosmos once more?” she asks, her voice bright in my computer’s speakers. I can hear her keys clicking loudly as she types, her hands making quick work of something on the other side of the screen. I open my mouth to say something, but she jumps in before I can. “Yes, yes, I’ll be on mute once we get in, shut up.”

I laugh and glance at myself in the mirror I’ve got attached to the side of my monitor with a long metal arm—an old bike mirror that I repurposed to make sure my makeup and hair is on point in these videos. Even though the streams are all about the games, there’s nothing wrong with looking a little cute, even if it’s just for myself. I run a finger over one of my eyebrows, smoothing it out, and make a note to tweeze them just a little bit later. I’ve got my mother’s strong brows, black and rebellious. We’re frequently in battle with one another, me armed with my tweezers, my eyebrows wielding their growing-faster-than-weeds genes.

“How much time do we have?” I ask, tilting my head back and forth.

“About five minutes. And you look fine, stop it,” she grumbles. I push the mirror away, the metal arm making a squeaking noise, and I see Rebekah roll her eyes. “You could just use a compact like a normal person, you know.”

“It’s vintage,” I say, leaning in toward my computer mic. “I’m being hip.”

“You. Hip.” She chuckles. “Please save the jokes for the stream. It’s good content.”

I flash her a scowl and load up my social feeds on the desktop, my watch still illuminating with notifications. I decide to leave them unchecked on the actual device and scope them out on the computer instead, so when people are watching, they can see the watch in action. That should score me some extra goodwill with sponsors, and maybe it’ll look like I’m more popular than people think I am.

Because that’s my life. Plenty of social notifications, but zero texts or missed calls.

The feeds are surprisingly calm this evening, a bundle of people posting about how excited they are for my upcoming stream, playing Reclaim the Sun on their own, curious to see what I’m finding… Not bad. There are a few dumpster-fire comments directed at the way I look and some racist remarks by people with no avatars, cowards who won’t show their faces, but nothing out of the usual.

Ah. Lovely. Someone wants me to wear less clothing in this stream. Blocked. A link to someone promoting my upcoming appearance at New York GamesCon, nice. Retweeted. A post suggesting I wear a skimpier top, and someone agreeing. Charming. Blocked and blocked.

Why is it that the people who always leave the grossest, rudest, and occasionally sexist, racist, or religiously intolerant comments never seem to have an avatar connected to their social profiles? Hiding behind a blank profile picture? How brave. How courageous.

And never mind all the messages that I assume are supposed to be flirtatious, but are actually anything but. Real original, saying “hey” and that’s it, then spewing a bunch of foul-mouthed nonsense when they don’t get a response. Hey, anonymous bro, I’m not here to be sexualized by strangers on the Internet. It’s creepy and disgusting. Can’t I just have fun without being objectified?

“Div!” Rebekah shouts, and I jump in my seat a little.

“Yeah, hey, I’m here,” I mumble, looking around for my Bluetooth earpiece, trying to force myself into a better mood. This is why you don’t read the comments, Divya.

The earpiece is bright orange and yellow with white outlines, inscribed with the logo from the game Remember Me, a kick-ass sci-fi adventure with a lady protagonist that I adore. I don’t care if the series got canceled; I wear my earpiece to show my solidarity.

I will remember you, Nilin, you underrated heroine. You deserved better.

“You were really zoned out for a second,” Rebekah says. “Let’s go. It’s time.”

I hear her tapping a few buttons, and suddenly her little screen goes quiet, the video stream of her now bearing a circled microphone with a line through it in bright red. I can still see her, but she’s muted. She won’t appear in video on the stream, preferring to stay behind the scenes for personal reasons that belong to her.

I chuckle as she reaches off-screen and her hand comes back gripping a giant clear Starbucks cup with a huge froth of whipped cream on top, the beverage most definitely filled with pure chocolate and sugar. “Game fuel” she likes to call it.

I swivel in my chair to make sure my room’s door is closed and take a quick peek at my window. Curtain drawn—check.

We’re good to go.

For a minute, I debate breaking out my Oculus. It’s way more fun to explore the universe in Reclaim the Sun when you’re using the VR feature, but then I’d have a giant virtual reality headset covering up my face, hiding my expressions while I’m playing. And all of that, blended with the gameplay, is part of the point of this. Plus, I want to see Rebekah in her side window. Maybe I’ll plug it in later, when I’m gaming solo.

I look up at my webcam and shift around, trying to find the perfect angle for where I’m sitting, the old camera wrestling to adjust the light balance within the room. I keep my outfits on the stream simple—today I’ve got on a dark green T-shirt with a bright white Halo logo in the center, which makes my green eyes look even greener on the camera. Perfect.

I hit record.

“Hey, lovers and dreamers and streamers!” I exclaim, plastering a bright smile on my face. “It’s D1V, coming to you live from the vast universe of Reclaim the Sun. Today we’re going to be exploring the galaxy and seeing what we can find out here in the cosmos. Hopefully, as I’m out adventuring, I run into some of you! Feel free to hit me up on the Reclaim the Sun messaging network at letter ‘D,’ number ‘1,’ letter ‘V’ and join the Armada as we claim planets for our own.”

“As always, the fantastic and talented and beautiful Commander (Re)bekah is on the stream with us.”

I point at the camera. There’s an audible click, and the video stream switches to Rebekah, who gives a faux salute to the camera for just a second, and then switches back to me. Even in that quick clip, you can’t see her face. She saluted while looking down. She’s not a huge fan of the attention and prefers to stay behind the camera, even though she’s got tens of thousands of followers on her various social networks from working on this little show of ours. She mostly posts pictures of her coffee, her cat, Gipsy Danger, or books. She’s big into bookstagram, making beautifully artsy arrangements to photograph and showcase her current reads.

And no matter what game we’re playing, if there’s a customizable vehicle, she’ll name it after a book she’s really into. I’ve seen her share screenshots with authors on social media, and they always seem over the moon thrilled.

“She’ll be on deck running around with us in her brand-new vessel, the Heart of Iron, and recording our exploration from another angle to catch all the action. You can flag her ship, as well as mine, the Golden Titan, and track us as we travel the universe—and, of course, please feel free to join our fleet! Though be warned, if you fire on us, we will be forced to unleash upon you the fury of a thousand suns, as well as the fury of the thousand fans who are traveling with us. Your ship won’t survive against my darling Angst Armada.”

I glance over at Rebekah on the screen and catch her giving me a smile. She’s the one who named our quickly growing fleet, which largely consists of teenagers like us, eager to do a little exploring outside the real world we’re trapped in. And a lot of venting sure does happen on our hashtag and in the game, almost none of which has anything to do with video gaming. School. Breakups. Parents. The usual.

#AngstArmada it is.

Rebekah’s been working on getting patches and pins done up for when we make our appearance at GamesCon later in the summer. She says we can potentially make a ton of money, even if we’re only selling them for a few dollars at our table. I wince at the thought of it—not the patches or pins, which frankly sound awesome and what I’m all about, because how cool would it be to see someone randomly in the mall rocking our fleet badges? And extra revenue to put away for college and help Mom? Yes, please.

But manning the table. Being in public. Sitting in one place where people can come up and talk to me, shake my hand, take pictures. The trolls and their emails and messages… They get so brutal. And the idea of being someplace in real life as D1V and not just as me, Divya, is terrifying.

But if Rebekah can be brave enough to do it, so can I. She’s been through far worse than I have.

“Turn up the enthusiasm,” Rebekah murmurs from her little window, on mute for everyone playing with us and for the stream, but still audible to me. “You sound like you don’t want to be here today.”

She’s awfully perceptive.

“And…we’re in!” I shout, lifting my hands up in the air, fingers wide and open. I beam directly into the webcam.

“Alright, alright, dial it back there on the performance.” Rebekah snipes, and I grin, putting my hands back on the keyboard and mouse. The universe of Reclaim the Sun welcoming and beautiful on my massive screen, an expanse of sprawling black dotted with faraway stars, each a destination that’s possible to fly off to. The fact that there’s no beating this game, no end goal—that it’s just nonstop exploration—makes it all the more fun. There’s no real competition here, unless you’re looking for a fight. We’re all in this together.

I look down at the controls on my ship and take quick stock of what’s on the readouts. I’m still feeling a little bitter that I can’t have my Oculus headset on, as I have to navigate everything with my mouse instead of just physically looking at this stuff. I click on the little video window that contains Rebekah’s floating head and drag it over, placing it atop one of the more useless control screens, there mostly for decoration. Seeing her there makes me feel like she’s my real navigator and in this ship with me. And really, she is—without her, there wouldn’t be a proper show with sponsors and actual revenue or any of that. It’d just be me floundering around in front of an audience, one that wouldn’t be nearly as big as the one we have now.

Or maybe I wouldn’t be doing this at all. I’m not sure what I’d be doing right now without Rebekah’s help, what with Mom and our finances the way they are.

I give my friend’s video window an affectionate little click with my mouse and turn back to the open universe.

“It’s that time, Angst Armada! Our coordinates are as follows… Quadrant Seti Six, 51.7, 92.2, 62.7, in the Omega Expanse. We’ll wait here for approximately five minutes, and then take off and try to find an undiscovered planet. With any luck—whoa!”

The radar screen goes haywire, and Rebekah’s video screen next to it shows her looking far more excited than I’ve seen her in recent memory. A smile explodes on her face, and her voice erupts in my headset, though her video is getting choppy as she talks.

“O-Oh my God, -ere has got to be like, a thousand ships in he—” she screams in my ear, making me wince. “How’s your la-? I swear my sys- go- to cra—”

I check the latency bar, which monitors our connection, and it looks like everything is holding up okay on my end, even as vessel after vessel warps into view in front of my ship. Rebekah’s video stream cuts in and out, her voice getting garbled and then clear and then static again. Spaceships of all kinds and shapes and sizes thunder in out of warp from wherever they were before in the cosmos. Bright neon colors contrast with numerous ships with cold metallic shades, some colored so black, so dark, they practically blend in to the open space. Ships of gold and silver shimmer from the reflecting light of a nearby star, and my radar screen is full to bursting with small glowing dots, each representing a nearby player.

The Angst Armada has arrived.

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[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7

oh my god you guys we’re so close to shit finally going down it’s gonna rock your fucking worlds and I cannot WAIT for you to undergo it it’s gonna be so much fun. also i know jack shit about charity galas so like... watch out for that. or botanical gardens, for that matter. anyway enjoy! pls tell me what you think this is my baby

Calum invites Aspen to a gala and it’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to her.

Well, technically it’s a fundraiser for the Gotham City Children’s Organization. Also, she’s gonna be more of an employee, strictly speaking, than a guest. And Mr. Hood really only asked her to work there this Friday evening, she’s not, like, his date or anything. He kinda sprang this whole thing on her. To be completely honest, too, it’s probably only the most exciting thing to happen to her in, like, two months, because she’s cool, goddamnit.

Anyway, Aspen is going to be working overtime this Friday evening and she couldn’t be happier.

She’s been wound up about this since he told her Tuesday. She’s gonna dress up all nice, she’s gonna rub elbows with the Gotham elite, she’s gonna unhinge her jaw like a python and eat an entire tray of canapés - it’ll be good for her.

They’ve all been stressed.

For her, it’s just that it hasn’t been long since the Liam fiasco. That was rough. And for his part, Calum looks more and more worn down. The tabloids in the grocery store checkout line told her he’s not seeing that nurse or reporter or whoever it was anymore. He’s been stiff lately, with bags under his eyes despite whatever million-dollar face cream he’s doubtlessly using. If she wasn’t being very disciplined about their relationship she’d tease him to switch away from decaf. Maybe he’s sick, she thinks. Could be the flu. Compromised immune system and whatnot.

He’s under a lot of stress, now, after the murder.

Trident Incorporated was next, in the string of CEO attacks, and it was so much worse, this time around. The police found the Barton Mathis’ body shot in the head with hundred dollar bills stuffed in his mouth. Aspen knows because she made sure Mr. Hood got to the funeral on time.

It’s… worrying. Worrying because her pattern holds; they’d been just about to sign a big contract with Trident when the man was killed. She knows it’s crazy, Calum wouldn’t kill someone. No matter how cold he may come off. She hopes so, anyways. Sometimes his mood changes like that, and even if he didn’t pull the trigger, this is Gotham. There are any number of people who would do it for the right price. It’s the money down the victim’s throat, of all things, that makes her change her mind. She’s seen his car - money certainly doesn’t disgust him.

So Calum isn’t the killer, probably. But that still scares her.

Because he’s probably next.

He doesn’t get a bodyguard. He doesn’t amp up security, he doesn’t tell Aspen about a panic room or anything. It’s like he hasn’t fucking realized the danger he’s in. Aspen knows it’s not her job to stress about that, but that doesn’t mean that creeping horror hasn’t settled into her ribs. All she can do is keep her mouth shut and help him through the financial quarter ending, which is no fucking picnic either, in case you were wondering. She gets used to working late. 

So, yeah, she could use a break. They all could.

Friday morning, she brings her dress with her, folded up in a plastic grocery bag. That morning, when she hands over the coffee, Alfred passes her a suit in a garment bag as soon as her hands are free. “Do try not to wrinkle it before the event, Master Calum.” He says, giving Aspen a little wink like he knows she’d never do such a thing.

Calum rolls his eyes at both of them, but he’s the closest to smiling he’s been in days.

“And you’ve got your outfit?” He ask her as they step into the elevator.

She nods and wiggles the plastic shopping bag hanging off her wrist. “Don’t worry, sir, I’m going to look very fiscally responsible.” She’s taking donations at the event, so she’s already wearing her most accountant-like cardigan, but she’s gonna class it up this evening. Her nails are painted, and they’re not chipped yet or anything.

Anyway, he smiles distinctly at that. She likes being able to do that. It’s like a magic trick. “It’s good to see you smiling again. Thought maybe you forgot how.” Aspen says, and this time she doesn’t even try to stop herself. She’s been very good for the past few weeks, and she needs a rest from acting soulless and polite. Really, she’s just being nice.

“What?” Mr. Hood turns to look at her. Maybe she’s been more serious than she thought, if he’s that surprised to hear her tease him.

“I mean, you’ve had some rough days. ‘M glad to see you looking a little more relaxed.” Aspen delicately refrains from making a joke, and just gives him a little shrug and the truth. It seems like this means a lot to him, anyway - it feels like the first time he’s looked at her and seen her in ages. That feeling comes back, the one she buried. “And, y’know, it makes my job a lot easier when you’re in a good mood. No offense. Sir.” She covers it again, hastily, and like a spell’s been broken the elevator doors open and she steps into the lobby.

“None taken,” she hears him murmur from behind her as she maneuvers herself and the bag through his office door. “You know when the car’s coming, right?”

“At three.” She slips easy into the day-to-day talk, like an old sweater. It’s welcome. She feels like she’s burning under her skin and from nothing. This is why it has to be so stiff; there’s so much she risks with too-kind words. “Guests start to arrive at four thirty, your talk is at five-thirty, and then at 8 there’s the after-gala at Note Bene.”

“You’re invited to that, too.” Aspen turns around from hanging up his garment bag. Mr. Hood is looking at her from behind his desk, adjusting his sleeves - maybe just so he has something to do with his hands. “You could come along. I didn’t know if you would want to but- you seem excited for this.”

Aspen tells herself he’s offering to be polite, which- he must be. She can’t fool herself like that. It’s the stupid chemistry, that’s all, it’s getting to her, and if she ignores it long enough it’ll go away. “Thank you, but that’s not really my scene, I think.” She smiles, shrugs. “Anything else I can help you with while I’m in here, sir?”

“No. Thank you for all you help with the event, though, Aspen. I’m glad to have someone I can trust in charge of donations.” He says. She remembers in her interview, only three weeks ago, how he had eyes that pinned her to the wall. She feels it in his gaze now, too.

She can’t linger.

“Just doing my job!” She chirps, darting out the door and closing it softly behind her.

She thought she was over this, what the fuck?

It’s not a great time for these feelings to resurface, since he’ll probably be looking real real good in his suit this afternoon. There’s isn’t really a good time to get a crush on your boss, though. Being so impersonal had been driving Aspen crazy, but the second she relaxes around that man she gets weak; maybe this time she’ll learn her lesson.

She gets to work. She’s sifting through emails when the first phone call of the day comes through, and she checks the clock - it’s not even nine yet. That’s interesting. She’s not suspicious, though, not yet.

“Hood Enterprises, how can I help you?” She asks in her very best secretary voice.

“Hello, Detective Gordon, GCPD. I need to talk to Mr. Hood.”

Aspen feels like a stutter. Shit. Does this mean - is her boss some kind of Patrick Bateman or - the lie comes to her in a split second. “Well, he usually doesn’t come in until nine, but I’ll see if I missed him coming in. Just one moment, alright?” She smiles, even though the man on the other end can’t see it, and as soon as he agrees she puts him on hold and transfers to call Calum.

Aspen’s been touched by Calum. She knows he’s not a killer. But if he’s mixed up in- if this is about Don Falcone, or- no matter how she tries to justify it, her first instinct was to protect him however she could. That’s foolish, she knows. But here she is.

Calum picks up before she can lose her liar’s nerve. “There’s a detective from the GCPD on the line for you.” She explains, praying she at least doesn't sound paranoid. “I was wondering if you were in.”

It's calculating, the silence on the other line. They're both careful not to say too much, even in normal situations, but this… it's a little more delicate.

“Did they mention their name?” He asks, which relaxes Aspen a little. It's not the worst answer he could have given.

“Ah, a Detective Gordon.” She says, which seems to be the right answer, because he asks her to connect him.

Aspen does, and then she has to hang up and live with what just happened, which is better than talking to a policeman. Only just, though.

She thinks Calum can't get mad at her for thinking he could have something to hide if he didn't want to talk on the phone.  Worst comes to worst, she'll say she wasn't sure if he'd want a lawyer or not. She knows he won't buy it, but it's a fair defence.

Now that she's got that figured out, she turns her attention to what her boss is hiding. Some offshore bank accounts? Or maybe Gordon is some cop he's paying off, to hide a secret double life. Maybe he's doing something wicked, just for the thrill of it. She’d say something related to escorts, but Aspen's pretty confident there's no one he couldn't have if he really wanted, so that's out.

Usually Aspen loves thinking up great and improbable theories for things she doesn't understand. It's different now, with Calum. She's got respect for him, and she doesn't want to lose that. It's probably healthy for her to drop her romanticized vision of him so she can get some fucking work done, if she's honest, but… god, she doesn't want to. Even after three weeks of being snapped at, she still sees a beauty in him, and that's rare. She kind of wants to chase that.

She keeps herself from thinking too much by listening to the phone messages that people left last night. Shit, she’s probably gonna have to come back in after the gala, isn’t she? Lots of emergencies and news happens at the end of the day, she should really- shit, no, this isn’t working, she can’t focus. She’s still turned upside down by what her boss might be involved in.

She tells herself she’s just worried for her job security. It doesn’t change anything.

She’s watching out of the corner of her eye and she sees when the line Calum’s being called on goes dead. How long is he going to wait before he called her in? He’s gonna want to talk about this, and ooh, who knew who could be listening? Wait, that’s a little cloak and dagger, even for her.

That’s what she thinks at the time, anyway. She has no idea.

He gives it only about a minute before he calls her and asks her to come into his office. It must be important, then. Aspen’s almost more curious than nervous; she’s pretty sure something is up, but she’s excited to see how Calum tries to brush it off. She steps in and smiles like she has no idea what to expect, like nothing’s wrong. “How can I help you?”

He’s writing something when she comes in, which she’s starting to think is a defence mechanism. He doesn’t make her wait, though, he puts his pen down as soon as she speaks up. “Oh, I just wanted to say that appreciate your discretion.” He says, face carefully controlled.

Very eloquent, he’s very good at this. She’s almost reassured. “Absolutely, sir. Should I do the same thing every time the police call, or-”

“You can transfer Gordon through directly, but otherwise… please. Yes.” He smiles stiffly, and Aspen can’t help it, she takes it as a challenge. She’s gonna find out what’s going on.

It’s like he can read her mind, because he says “None of that, Miss McMichael, don’t give me that look.” Aspen startles. Was it really that obvious? Does she have a look? She’s almost in trouble, judging by how he’s addressing her. 

Her heart starts to pound despite herself. “A cat may look at a king, sir.” She tries to cover, but that asshole sees right through her.

“I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about this, alright? Detective Gordon was letting me know about the security at the fundraiser. After the- um, I think you understand why it’s essential for our guests to feel safe.”

Shit.

Okay, maybe Aspen was a little hasty. “Of course, sir.” She says, making her most sympathetic face. Fuck, one of his peers was just murdered, no wonder he’s in touch with the police. She’d be nervous and shifty, too.

...it doesn’t quite explain why he only wants to hear from Gordon, but she’ll save that for later.

She makes a quick exit, now, after mumbling updates about all the messages she’s sifted through. A lot of people want to talk to Calum this morning, and as soon as business hours start he’s kept on the line pretty solidly through the morning and afternoon. In the middle of one of his phone calls, around noon, she sneaks in and puts a granola bar on his desk, and she’s out before she can see if he smiles at her for it. It’s been a, um, weird morning, and she wants to avoid anything that champagne could catalyze tonight. She’s just being a good PA, to be sure, but still.

The day drags on until three in the afternoon. Fifteen minutes before the car is supposed to come (god, Aspen feels so fancy when she thinks that), she shuts her computer down and stands up. Since the incident with Liam, she’s taken to locking the schedule in her file cabinet, just to be safe, so that’s what she does before she sneaks out of her office to get changed.

Aspen knows she’s not supposed to be attracting attention at this thing, so she’s dressed a little like a librarian. She borrowed a black slip dress from her roommate (since Aspen hasn’t bought a dress since, like, prom), and she’s wearing a grey cardigan over it to keep her looking tepid. Now, smoothing out the skirt in the bathroom mirror, she thinks happily that she’s not completely sexless.

She knows that’s dangerous, given her feelings for her boss (ugh), but since he doesn’t reciprocate what’s the harm in looking like a sexy librarian? The confidence will probably fade as soon as she’s surrounded by whatever designer tea gowns the guests will be wearing, but she doesn’t mind.

“You look nice,” Janice tells her once she emerges, and Aspen appreciates the gesture.

“Aw, thanks. I was going for an outfit that said ‘trust me with thousands of dollars’, you think it’ll go over well?” She smiles, and Janice nods. “I think I’m gonna come back after the thing just to check messages, so don’t worry about answering my phone.” She adds as she’s heading back to her desk, grabbing her coat and bag.

When she turns around, she sees Calum.

Here’s the thing; she knew he would look good. He looks good all the time, just business casual, but he looks good now, in a suit that looks expensive and tailored and beautiful. Fuck this, honestly, Aspen’s gonna have to avoid him all night to keep from making a fool of herself.

She blinks to take him in, and their eyes meet. He was looking at her, he must have been, looking properly. She knows she can’t hold a candle to him, not in her begged and borrowed outfit, but the fucking electricity between them makes her hope for a second-

“Ready to go?” He asks her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was smirking.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Aspen says. Her voice comes out so much smoother than she feels.

How’s she supposed to handle the car ride? Being in a small enclosed space with him sounds like too good of an idea right now.

She waves goodbye to Janice as they head out, and she busies herself with the tablet he gave her for taking donations in the elevator so she has an excuse not to look at him too long. It reminds her that, right, she could get in serious trouble if she doesn’t stay focused here today, and that cools her down enough to relax a little.

Aspen had been hoping that Calum would have a limo to take there, so when it’s his usual sedan waiting outside she feels a little let down. It doesn’t make sense for him to take a limo if he’s showing up before everyone else, she guesses, no one to show off for, but she had been hoping... Whatever. Alfred opens the door for her, and she slides in and immediately finds herself next to a kid with black hair and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. He’s little, wiry, and he’s maybe twelve. Calum follows her in, and maybe he senses her confusion. “Aspen, this is my ward, Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my assistant, Ms. McMichael.”

Dick Grayson puts out his hand to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, miss.” He says, with confidence you don’t usually find in a pre-teen.

Aspen is used to things being weird by now, so she reaches out and shakes his hand, just to be polite. “Likewise. Hey, you can call me Aspen, people only call me Ms. McMichael when I’m in trouble.” She smiles, just to put the kid a little more at ease. It’s eerie, seeing someone so young so formal.

It seems to work well enough, because as the car starts Dick smiles so wide his face almost cracks open. That’s better. “I read one of your research papers. About, um, the protein in the cell membrane, the, um, it was a sort of, um, ATP pump, the-”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, the effects of the SNP mutation- I remember. How’d you like it?”

Dick screws up his face and then immediately tries to smooth it out, regain his composure. He’s still trying to be polite, Aspen thinks, which is adorable but so not her style. Plus, he’s like eleven, he shouldn’t have composure. “It was-” he says-

“Godawful to read, right?” Aspen slouches back into the car seat, hoping if she relaxes the kid will relax. This might be the first time she’s slouched in front of Calum, she thinks, but she tries to ignore how she knows that.

She knows what she’ll see if she looks over at her boss; him watching her intently with those eyes like stars, some bright fire burning inside him. His eyes have a light to them she can’t escape. She thinks he does it with everyone - he’s been giving her looks like this since the interview, after all.

Sometimes she likes to pretend it’s just for her, though. She can feel the fabric of his suit pants brushing against her bare leg, and sometimes the warm weight of his thigh when the car turned the corner. This backseat doesn’t nearly feel big enough for the three of them, all in a row. She can’t believe her brain’s going haywire just because he’s close. 

She focuses on the child beside her, on the science. That’s what she knows, not people. She knows the proteins and serums they’re made of, but even her own human heart is confusing. “Scientific writing can be - it’s hard to be accurate and interesting at the same time. It’s kind of stupid. But, hey, we’ve got like, fifteen minutes of this car ride, if you have any questions I’ll answer them.” She says.

“You don’t have to,” she hears, and Calum touches her elbow softly. It burns through her cardigan. How does he do that? “Dick knows you’re not here to entertain him.” She turns to look at him, catches his eye, and oh- it’s that look, she knew it.

Her mouth goes dry. She tries to ignore it.

“Nah, it’s my pleasure. You haven’t let me talk about science for two weeks, I’m deprived.” She finds it in her to scold right back. She controls her movement as she turns back to Dick Grayson, so it doesn’t look like she’s trying to break his gaze before she combusts. “Anything I can help you understand?”

“What’s an ATP?”

That’s how Aspen spends the car ride, then, instead of thinking about the man beside her. It seems to work; by the time they reach the venue she’s not as jittery, as raw, as she might be. And hey, to his credit, Dick is a good kid; he’s excited to learn what he can and he laughs at her jokes. Aspen likes that in anyone.

The venue is the Gotham Botanical Gardens, which Aspen is also real excited about. She’s going to sneak into the greenhouses if she gets the chance, but for now she keeps pace with Mr. Hood and Dick Grayson as they weave their way through the armed guards. There’s at least two cop cars that she can see - it all seems a little extreme to her, but it’s Gotham. She glances over at Dick - he seems a little freaked out, too. At least it’s not just her delicate sensibilities.

As soon as they’re into the ballroom - ballroom, Jesus, this city is extravagant when it gets the chance - Calum is dragged away by a harried man in a very nice suit. Someone shows Aspen to a table and introduces her to the woman who’ll be making sure any checks that are written don’t go missing. Renee Montoya has a gun at her hip and iron in her stare, but Aspen gets her talking about her work and eventually the woman warms up. Things seem to be going smoothly with the preparations (she’s keeping an eye on Calum, it’s her job, okay?) when suddenly there’s a BANG and someone screams.

Montoya actually pushes Aspen behind her as she takes out her gun, all in one smooth motion, and half the cops around the room are doing the same, searching for the source of the noise.

It’s happening. This is it. Aspen looks for Calum instinctively, can’t find him, oh, shi-

“Shit, goddamn it- we’re okay, everybody, Jesus, this kid-”

Time unfreezes. The police officer who swore is clutching his wrist, almost doubled over, but there’s no blood. Aspen lowers her fists. She’s not sure when she got into a fighting stance, but as she relaxes and the officers lower their guns she feels a little silly for it.

They’re all on edge, she supposes.

Her next thought is to find Dick. There’s only one kid in this building, at least as far as she knows, and she does not underestimate his capacity for trouble.

Another look around find both him and Calum - Aspen feels like she’s intruding, seeing them hug on the other side of the ballroom. Plus of course he’s a good father figure, because apparently the universe hates her and wants her to suffer.

She supposes she’s gotten attached to Dick, that’s why she strides over as they start to part. Dick isn’t crying, but he does look a moment from it when she comes up. Aspen’s not exactly nurturing, she doesn’t know if she can help, but she wants to. “Hey, you doing alright? What happened?” She asks him.

Dick looks up at Calum, who nods at him to tell her. It’s sweet. “I was looking for the bathroom and the officer found me. I think he thought I was lost, but he grabbed my shoulder an’ I didn’t know he was there and I panicked. I made a mistake.”

Aspen can’t blame him for being shaken. “Well, it is bad manners to grab people.” She says. Dick kind of cracks a smile at that. “Hey, it’s only a mistake if you let it happen again, that’s what I think. Don’t worry too much about it.”

When she glances up, Calum is smiling. “Do you mind staying with Dick until the guests start to arrive?” He asks her. “The planner’s had three separate crises since we got here.”

Aspen nods. “I’m good with that as long as you are.” She says to Calum’s ward, who looks unsure, but nods.

That’s a good sign. She’s glad he’s okay.

As soon as Calum’s gone she focuses in on the boy, who looks at her solidly. He is a little old for her to be babysitting him, but for now she’s free to goof around, so she doesn’t mind. “Did you find anything cool while you were looking for the bathroom? I’ve been trying to sneak into the greenhouses since we got here.”

“Just the kitchens.” Dick says, shaking his head.

Fuck yes. “Just the kitchens? Buddy, we gotta check it out. I’m sure if you look sad and cute enough they’ll give us all kinds of leftovers.”

“You think?”

“Give me your best puppy-dog eyes.” Aspen says.

Dick complies.

“Jesus, you are good. Those chefs aren’t gonna know what hit them.”

#yes there are kitchens at the gardens #this is gotham #the gardens were build with rich people and their comfort in mind #anyway things are about to get good #my writing #twdk #the devil wears kevlar #calum hood fic #calum hood series #5sos series #5sos fic #ch blurb #ceo!cal #batman!au