#and if they can't make it we'll have to begin discharge

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

The experience of finagling your schedule to better suit a client who has been struggling with attendance only for them to immediately no-show the new time too.

Buddy I have a waiting list, I do not have time for you to skip sessions for months at a time.

[spankingtheatre]

Vigilance Costs Energy

The feeling of being drained after a social event is now so well-known, it's almost an introvert cliche. Sadly it makes introverts seem somehow flawed, like leaky buckets, or faulty batteries that discharge too rapidly.

But what if there was really no inherent fault in introverts at all? Perhaps what really exhausts people - regardless of their inner psychology - is having to maintain a state of extreme vigilance when socialising.

It can't be a coincidence that when we're with friends, our energy seems to last so much longer, despite being naturally more high-tempo than encounters with strangers. Perhaps that's a clue, that when we're comfortable being ourselves, we don't have to suppress the parts of us that we'd rather not show. Putting on an act - now that is exhausting.

Thomas Jefferson's famous quote about the price of freedom being eternal vigilance equally well applies to social situations. We want to be free to be who we truly are, but we're wary of letting our guard down. That's why sexual vulnerability is so difficult.

We are vigilant in social situations not because we lack courage, but because we're not naive. We learn from an early age to be wary of assholes, and those who might take advantage of our nature to exploit us.

Someone who's submissive will be rightly concerned that dominant individuals will take advantage of their neediness. How do we ever know anyone we encounter is saying what we want to hear whilst hiding their true intentions?

It's not that every stranger has a nefarious agenda. We'd be doomed to a lonely fate if we truly believed that. It's just that everyone is driven by their own motivations, and social niceties dictate we don't all lay our most personal secrets on the table the first time we encounter someone new.

Everyone's true intentions are revealed progressively, as we enter the social and sexual dance that leads to intimacy. We learn to place our trust in those who earn it. That's why relationships often begin with a kind of terrifying audition, with both partners hyper-vigilant for red flags - especially if they've been hurt badly in the past.

But maintaining such high levels of vigilance is literally exhausting. We're curating how others see us, in how we act and dress, and what we choose to talk about. We analysing reactions, and adapting how we appear. Inside, our hindsight critic is already berating us.

Yet we can not avoid others forming judgements about us. Even when we play safe, we're being judged, and we may be inadvertently conveying completely the wrong impression about ourselves. We might be passionate inside, but hide it so well that we appear dull and emotionless.

So we shouldn't fall into the trap of wanting to appear perfect in the eyes of others, because we can not possibly know their idea of perfection. Perhaps they just want us to be our most authentic selves, and would be greatly honoured to be trusted with our deepest and most precious secrets.

Until we drop our mask, we'll have no idea if others will find our interests hot or icky. But we can be sure of two things: if we've chosen our friends well, they'll be open-minded and love us regardless, and we burn more brilliantly when we're not hiding our flame.

We'll never quite lose our innate social vigilance, so it's helpful to remember that none of us is actually socially flawed, and it's probably our anxiety about how we're perceived that really exhausts us.

[brightgnosis]

Back from Stillwater finally with great news on two counts.

First, Husband is very unlikely to have Lupus. After a full eval, the Rheumatologist is fairly certain he has the begining stages of Psoriatic Arthritis. Which still sucks, of course, but isn't nearly as bad as it could be. His pain levels are so low he's comfortable going without treatment for now, but he's got another appointment scheduled just to keep himself on their roster as a patient if it progresses.

Secondly, Mother in Law is being discharged today from Saint Francis in Tulsa. My Father in Law and her care team managed to get her set up with a Rehab Clinic here, where she'll stay for 20 days (because that's all Medicare / Medicaide covers). Then after that, my Brother in Law is coming back from Kansas to live with us again for a bit to help care for her so I don't have to (let's hope the dumbass doesn't leave the stove burner on overnight again when he does).

Wins all around on that front for now ... We'll see how long it lasts.

For me, though? I'm lounging about on the couch in peak Victorian Invalid manner, with my heated blanket and 2 additional couch throws on me. Because not only am I freezing and haven't for the life of me been able to warm back up all day thanks to my Thyroid nonsense, but I'm also in the worst Fibro flare I've had in years since we finally got me stabilized 🫠

We bought me CBD in Stillwater while we were there, since the only non-Dispensary store that carried it here stopped and I still don't have my license yet. Didn't find out until we got all the way home an hour later that I fubbed up and bought one of them as a Vape Juice on accident (I stopped Vaping in 2020 when we got our first round of Covid and it was making my Lungs seize). Thankfully the other is a proper oil, but it has Melatonin in it so I still can't take it yet. So I get to wait for a Delta-8 gummy to kick in instead 😭

[divtanver]

Part Four: What Lies Ahead

Hearing the uninvited guests, the seemingly dead city began to come to life. One by one, red eyes appeared in dark corners and pulled their heavy bodies with them to a quickened heartbeat. Flowing around the scattered masses, glistening from the evening rays of the sun, the duo rushed to the alley where their comrades were hiding, but their path was blocked by several zombots who closed the shrinking metal ring with their outstretched claws. The brought kunai was ready to feel the might of its owner, when both limp figures fell to the asphalt, torn from the electric discharges that covered them. Stella appeared behind them, clutching the device she had threatened earlier. Without hesitating for a second, the fugitives took advantage of the formed rescue corridor and, reunited with their group, left the inhospitable city.

Already on its outskirts, Espio and Tails remembered the last place on the search list - the crashed shuttle. After handing out additional items to the searchers, they headed to their destination.

A cold wind blew lightly on the grass that grew on the embankment, from behind which two heads slowly appeared and began to inspect the surroundings of the crash site. Once the smoking wreckage of the plane cooled down for a long time, which made it easy to see the silent creatures crowded tightly around it. The plan that the partners discussed was quite simple: to distract onlookers and get a map, it couldn't have been easier. However, the task was complicated by the lack of a distraction, stones alone would not be enough. Having come up with nothing better, they decide to repeat the trick with the walkie-talkie, oddly enough, it worked, but for how long?

Carefully rolling down, duo begin to dig up the remains of the shuttle, mixed with the ground. Espio, who has found what he is looking for, gives Tails a quiet signal, but, carried away by diligent attempts to pull something out, the fox asks him to wait a little. One of the zombies accidentally steps on a distracting source of noise with his heavy foot, which made the crowd to slowly disperse. A chameleon noticing a surge of movement covers himself and his friend from unnecessary glances with some metal fragment. An anxious minute later, Tails finally pulls out the much-desired item, after which the duo retreats.

In response to Espio's question about the reason for the delay, a satisfied Fox shows his PDA, which, despite its worn-out appearance, is in working condition.

Friends spend the way to the camp in conversations on abstract topics.

After passing through the forest, they headed for the campfire, but were intercepted by Dr. Gauze, it was clear from his look that something was wrong.

"We have a problem, we'll discuss it in private," the possum said in a hushed voice.

The trio went into the last tent, in the corner of which there were bags of supplies, and in a folding table in the middle with three small chairs attached to it.

"Sit down," the Doctor pulled up two chairs and sat down opposite.

After everyone took their seats, Gauze exhaled and started a conversation.

"After the group returned, I took an inventory of the resources found. And well... some medicines and food are unusable because of the expiration date, and what is there is not enough for everyone. We need to decide what to do next: Either we share what is available to everyone, but then the condition of patients will worsen. Or we give everything to the victims and leave the healthy to starve. I can't make a decision for everyone, so I'm asking for your opinion." He shifted his heavy gaze to his interlocutors.

"We have to give everything to the victims, a couple of apples won't help the healthy, but it's quite enough for the sick," Espio said in a calm voice, as if the consequences wouldn't affect him.

"I... I agree with you," Tails said in an uncertain voice, which caused the chameleon to cast a barely noticeable glance at him.

"Then so be it. I hope the others will understand your decision," Gause said, getting up from his chair. "In the meantime, rest and pack your things, as soon as we take care of the wounded, we will go to the nearest town."

Before the trio left the tent, Espio handed the doctor a folded square map. Adjusting his glasses, he began to peer into its contents.

Approaching the remains of the dying fire, Tails began to inspect his PDA. The screen was smashed, the antenna was broken, the buttons were covered with a layer of dirt. However, the screen reacted correctly to attempts to turn it on, which indicated that everything was still working and the insides were not damaged. In principle, the general condition was quite acceptable for further use, of course, subject to a small external repair.

"Move out people!" A scream came from somewhere in the center of the camp, tearing the fox away from the device screen.

"Well, it's time to go," Tails thought and, having extinguished the barely alive fire, headed to the center of the camp, where a crowd had already gathered.

After making sure that the fires were extinguished and things were collected, the survivors moved on, towards the unknown. Their long way out of the forest was covered with fallen leaves from freezing trees, the cold wind drove them in the back, forcing to accelerate their pace. Hungry and freezing refugees wandered in the hope of finding a new place that could shelter their guests for a while. Along the way, they met a highway, on which it was decided to go further. A few kilometers later, when the sun had already set below the horizon, the outlines of the city appeared somewhere ahead, some people noticed the place of the car accident ahead. Only when they got closer among the metal fragments did they see a school bus colliding and a car smashed to pieces. Tails and Espio quickly scouted the nearby territory and, after making sure there were no threats, offered to set up camp nearby. No one has the strength left to object.

Soon the survivors began to gather around hastily lit bonfires, willing to escape from the cold embrace of the autumn night. On one of them Espio found his friend: Sitting on a piece of wood and stretching his arms out in front of him, the fox absorbed the heat coming from the fire. The chameleon's attention was attracted by the uncharacteristic crookedness of Tails.

“Are you okay?”

"Quite" However, the rumbling in his stomach gave in his true state of health, "Except for a little hunger."

A sympathetic smile appeared on Espio's face, after which, with characteristic for him invisibility to prying eyes, he took an energy bar out of his bag.

To the mute question on the fox's face, he only quietly said: "Consider this a reward for a successful sortie" and left.

The kindness shown by the friend reminded Tails of the girl who saved them during their escape from the city. Hiding the snack, he went in search of her. After going around the whole camp, the fox did not find his savior, only after questioning the already diverging survivors, he learned that Stella was last seen leaving towards the highway. Before going on, Tails took a bottle out of his duffel bag and swallowed a pill. Having made his way through the road bump, he heard a rustle coming from behind one of the cars. Tightening his grip on the wrench he found nearby, Tails moved as quietly as possible to the source of the noise. It seemed that at any moment a pair of red eyes would pop out from around the corner and cover his mouth with their cold claws, preventing him from calling for help. Pushing away bad thoughts, Tails continued walking until he noticed some movement. In the darkness of the space between the two cars was something, the fox's mind, clouded by a frenzied heartbeat, did not allowed to concentrate. While he was gathering his courage, the stirring stopped, and Tails felt a penetrating, alien gaze on himself. After a few agonizing seconds, a click was heard, followed by a faint glow in the dark. Soon the muzzle of the device he already knew was pointed at his face, which calmed rather than scaring. Feeling relieved, the fox turned on the flashlight. A ray of light picked out the thin figure of a Meerkat that covered tired eyes with one hand.

"What are you doing here?" Redirecting the flashlight to a nearby car, Tails asked.

"L-looking for food," Stella explained in her usual trembling voice.

"I see... Let's go back to the camp, you won't find anything here anyway, especially at this time," the fox reasonably remarked.

"O-okay," the girl replied in a subdued voice.

Approaching one of the already empty bonfires, Tails turned to Stella.

"I have something for you," he took out the energy bar he had received earlier and handed it her.

A faint smile appeared on girl emaciated face, which from time to time was hidden by the tangled hair fluttering in the wind.

"You're welcome," said the fox, but suddenly remembered the subject that interested him, "Listen, could you give me a look at the device with which you saved me and Espio at the auto repair shop?".

"This?" Stella picked up the discussion object clutched in her hand and, receiving a satisfactory nod from Tails, handed it over.

The interested fox here began to twist it in his hands.

Outwardly, it looked like a significantly reduced in size and slightly crudely made railgun using electric charges to temporarily neutralize the target, on the side of which a worn engraving 'LS-1' was visible.

"Interesting" Fox returned the device to its owner. Studying the device gave him the idea to create several similar weapons, but without the necessary materials, it is still too early to think about them. Having made a mental note in his head for tomorrow, Tails wished Stella good night and went to his tent.

When he got to the place inside, he saw Espio already deeply asleep, who was whispering something barely audible. Among the many unintelligible words, Tails made out only one of them. "Chaotix". Laying down on the opposite side, the fox peered into the corner of the tent that intertwined his threads and drew various patterns. "What lies ahead? Did anyone else survive? Are there any safe places? When will this nightmare end and will it end at all?". Tails didn't have time to answer any of these questions when a cough brought him out of his half-sleep. On the hand removed from the mouth, small drops of macro were soon visible. "This is not good," he thought to himself and rolled over on his side.

[pokemoncenterofficial]

gym battle footage!!! we did iiiiit!!!

[a video is attached! it appears to be taken in the fortree city gym, from behind winona's pedestal. it's a bit hard to hear through the rushing winds, but mostly, it's clear. theo has climbed up the steps to meet winona on the battle court.

Winona: "I am Winona. I'm the leader of the Fortree City Gym. But... you know all of that. I didn't know you'd caught any Pokémon, Theo."

Theo: "Yeah, it was only a month or two ago that I adopted my first! We've been practicing pretty hard for a while now, I think we're ready."

Winona: "Excellent! I presume we'll be using the first-badge team?"

Theo: "Yeah, that'd be great. These battles are recorded, right?"

Winona: "We're rolling right now, actually. We'll send you the footage after you leave."

Theo: "Ok! That makes sense. How does this- Do I- Do you have to-"

Winona: "I am Winona. I have become one with bird Pokémon and soared the skies. Witness the elegant choreography of my bird Pokémon and me!"

winona sends out her taillow first. it takes flight with a dramatic flourish before landing on the ground as theo sends out widget the porygon. their starry eyes dart in every direction before focusing on the battle at hand.

Theo: "Okay, Widget, just like we practiced. Start out with Conversion!"

Winona: "Taillow. Wing Attack!"

taillow moves first, flying in a vast loop, wings glowing white, before using the momentum to strike at widget, quick as an arrow. widget can't dodge the attack, and as they soar backwards from the impact, sparks fly from their body. their eyes and chest marking turn once again into lightning bolts and their body changes colors to be yellow and neon pink.

Winona: "Interesting. Taillow, use Quick Attack! Don't let the Porygon get in an attack!"

Theo: "Magnet Rise, then! Lift it in the air!"

taillow shoots forward at blinding speed, knocking widget back. widget floats back from the impact, but before they can get off a move of their own, taillow strikes again. and again. finally, widget manages to do something, though they're clearly damaged. a golden wave shoots out from their body, hitting the enemy taillow but not doing damage. both begin to rise higher in the air, taillow magnetically pulled towards widget, unable to fly away.

Theo: "You're doing great! Now, quick, use Thunder Shock!"

magnet rise ends and taillow begins to fly away before being hit by a weak bolt of lightning. it falls back, and widget shoots out another discharge of lightning, knocking taillow down as it faints.

Winona: "Solid strategy! Let's see how you handle this one!"

Theo: "We'll make a switch, too."

both trainers recall their pokémon, as theo sends out celeste the cleffa and winona send out her skarmory, which leers at the tiny celeste. he's trying to put on a brave face but is visibly quivering.

Winona: "Ooh, bad switch for you! Appreciate the opportunity. Skarmory, lead with Metal Claw!"

Theo: "...Alright, Celeste, don't be afraid. We practiced this! Use Sing, don't let Skarmory get close!"

skarmory moves first, shooting up before dive-bombing celeste, talons glinting in the light. as it rises, celeste starts to sing, faintly at first but louder and louder. gleaming stars swirl around him, bigger and bigger as his voice grows louder and the skarmory begins her descent. celeste ends his song with a high note and a flourish, and the gleaming stars fly towards the incoming skarmory. as soon as they hit her metal hide, they burst into sparkles as skarmory starts to drowse. she's still diving down, but starts to veer off course as she falls asleep before crashing into the ground next to celeste.

Winona: "What? N-nevermind, Skarmory, Metal Claw again!"

Theo: "Hey, it worked! Great job! Okay now, use Sweet Kiss, then come back!"

celeste tiptoes over to the sleeping skarmory and kisses her on the wing. the bird starts to glow pink, but still sleeps. theo recalls the cleffa and switches him out for jellybean the cherubi.

Theo: "Hello, Jellybean! Alright, you've got this. Use Leech Seed!"

jellybean nods in response and jumps in the air with practiced accuracy. she spits three glowing seeds at the slowly-awakening skarmory, which she doesn't dodge. the seeds quickly begin to sprout, vines tangling the steel bird's wings.

Theo: "Okay, now, your job is to not get hit!"

Winona: "FINALLY, you're awake! Strike with Air Cutter!"

Theo: "Use Morning Sun, blind the Skarmory!"

jellybean cries out to the sky, and the sun filtering in through the windows becomes blinding. skarmory fires off three blades of air, but each misses as she's unable to see. the leech seeds flash yellow, stealing her health as she regains flight.

Winona: "Peck, then!"

skarmory shoots forward at the cherubi, but in its confusion, turns at the last moment and hits the ground. the leech seed sprouts flash again.

the battle continues on like this for about five more minutes, jellybean dodging moves and blinding skarmory with morning sun. it continues to have its life sapped by leech seed and crash into the floor with each missed attack until it finally faints. the video cuts out there.]

[dearweirdme]

Hi!

So, I wanted to ask what are your thoughts on Taekook not appearing in a new Samsung campaign.

So, in the last 24 hours Samsung held their Unpacked event where they presented new flip and fold phones, as well as a smartwatch and a tablet. Yoongi was the only member who actually attended the event. Makes sense to me since he is an obvious loyal fan of the brand and also the one who composed several ringtone for them. As the event was happening/happened official Samsung accs posted two set of pictures of the members holding the phones. Here's one of the threads.

https://twitter.com/SamsungMobileUS/status/1684292504932302854?t=q8znW-FwoiAbb6nAbE1LJQ&s=19

As you can see only 4 members are there. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi And Jimin.

Some people started wondering why Taekook hasn't made an appearance (the campaign was obviously shot after Jin enlisted so no mystery here). Some think that maybe two of them didn't renew but I don't think it's true.

I, in my head, came with a few theories.

First of all, I think that Taekook will appear in the next campaign for their new galaxy phones that will come out in the beginning of 2024 (Feb / Mar).

Now, the reason for that maybe either solely due to the contract with Samsung running out or also planned around Taekook's later album releases and enlistment.

In the first case, the contract is ending so Samsung decided to split the last appearance by the group in two (since they can't get OT7 anyway) or probably even three with Jin advertising similar product a year later after discharge. So now it's NJ, YG, HS and JM, Taekook in Feb and Jin a year later. And after that contract finished. (Samsung may be also trying to stretch their appearances until full discharge of all the members in 2025)

In the other case, maybe NJ, YG, HS and JM advertising now because NJ, YG and JM will soon all go to the military after NJ and JM release (?) their projects. That will leave Tae and JK to do the galaxy campaign in Feb together while releasing their albums in late 2023 and possibly in early 2024. And then they enlist together.

I feel like this Samsung ad split confirms (sort of) that NJ, YG and JM will leave (together) sooner than Taekook.

So what do you think, is it simply Samsung trying to smoothly finish the contract) wait till full discharge to renew) OR it has something to do with album and enlistment plans?

Hi @madmadmadalice!

I'm not actually sure what to think of it. But, I do think it's possible Tae and Jk just didn't sign on for Samsung this time. Assuming there hasn't been a longstanding contract to abide to, they do have the luxury of choosing this time maybe. It coud be a case of schedules not matching even. I don't see this as much of a big deal, though it does stand out. Maybe you are right and they will appear in a different add later on. We'll have to see how it goes. THings like this often start making more sense after some time has passed.

I do think Namjoon and Yoongi will be enlisting soon. Jimin is a complete mystery to me, since some things make it look like he will have another album out.

[determinedapathy]

This has been some kind of year in a way.

Mom has spent most of it since the middle of March in assorted medical care facilities due to a bunch of complications I can't even begin to get into right now. The few nights she has spent at home have ended with her having to go back to a hospital the next day.

She's home again now but she had a fall at one point while trying to gather her things before today's discharge. She refused to go to another hospital for examination but is showing signs of being hurt to some extent. We'll have to see what tomorrow brings and if she can turn it into two nights in a row at home.

I've had some difficulty adjusting to the passage of time and the thought of getting older myself, but one aspect that I have a new appreciation for is the knowledge that inevitably your parents are getting older too. I'm well acquainted with her other health issues but this has still been something else.

My dad lives in another state. While talking to him earlier in the year, he said something that made me realize there's a chance I may never be able to see him in person again, since neither of us can really make that trip anymore for different reasons.

My parents had me later in their lives so, even though I'm not quite in my 40s yet, both of them are already in their 70s. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to talk to either of them, and I think that might scare me more than I thought.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS YEAR, DISCHARGE WERE NEARLY UNHEARD OF OUTSIDE THEIR NATIVE STOKE-ON-TRENT..."

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on early coverage of the almighty DISCHARGE, c. mid 1980, with their "Fight Back" EP having just been released upon the publication of this interview from South London, UK-based zine "Über Alles." Crack your brain up indeed...

LEADERS OF MEN: "How long can you see yourselves playing your fast and aggressive type of music? Can you see yourselves mellowing/slowing down, or do you think you'll pack it up before it got to that stage?"

TEZZ: "Until we stop making money, which we're not even doing now. You can't say that you'll remain doing the same thing forever, or the extent of your musical career. If we'll change or not, we don't know.

Dis nightmare still @$!*#&% continues!!

Source: http://theleadersofmen.blogspot.com/2013/01/discharge-1980.html.

[lianahayze]

Shadow and the Midnight Misery: Chapter 6

Check out chapter 5 here. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Freedom

When they call me to the main office the next day, I assume I'm fucked.

Maybe someone had found out about me collapsing in the hall, or maybe the know that I'd trashed my bathroom within the first few hours of being here, but either way, I know it's not good, and, as I walk down the hall, a ball of dread begins to form in my stomach.

I'd slept better last night. I'd at least been able to get a couple of hours. It was on and off, sure, but I'd gone straight to bed as soon as the sun went down. I'd skipped dinner in favor of an early night, and I'd somehow managed to sleep in. I don’t exactly feel well-rested, but I no longer feel like I’m on the edge.

It's quiet outside the office. I stand there for a moment, glancing around as I stand by the door. After I’d checked in at the front desk, this office where I'd had my intake. I’d sat there, not saying a word, not paying attention. I wish I had been paying attention, though; maybe they wouldn't have been able to force me to go through all of this.

Actually, it hasn't been as bad as I'd assumed it would be. Talking to Dr. Norris is a pain and the food always looks questionable, but maybe a few days away from the guys is what I need.

Well, that and a stiff drink.

I take a deep breath and knock on the door. When no one answers, I knock again, this time louder. Knocking with more force makes my knees rattle, and I realize I'm shaking. As I hear a voice on the other side answer, I force myself to calm down and push open the door.

What—rather, who—I see damn near makes me want to slam the door.

It's Wyatt.

He's seated with Dr. Norris. His head is down, eyes scanning a stack of papers in front of him. Taking one look at me, Dr. Norris says,

"Shadow, come in. Are you alright?"

"Uh." No. Not really. I step inside and close the door. "Hi," I say.

Hearing my voice, Wyatt looks up. I don't look at him though, instead focusing on Dr. Norris and the wall behind her.

"I was just meeting with Wyatt."

I want to ask her why but find myself unable to. Instead, I choke out, "Okay,” and there's as much confusion in my voice as there is disgust written on my face.

"I won't be long,” she says, “but I just wanted a few minutes. Did you do what we discussed?"

For a moment, I have no clue what she was talking about. Remembering the diary, I nod. Though I hadn’t written much, I had given it a go.

Dr. Norris smiles. "Wonderful. I'm proud of you. We'll have to discuss it." I hope she doesn't mean right now in front of Wyatt. "Anyway, I have news."

News? What kind of news could she possibly have? And why is Wyatt here?

Standing, she walks over to me. It's awkward, and I can't look her in the eye. After a moment of looking me over, she asks, "Ready to go home?"

I gasp. Wait, I’m free? I can leave? "I can go home?"

She nods. "I think so. In my opinion, you're not a danger to yourself and you aren't in danger of overdosing at the present time."

I squeal. Oh, I'm so happy, I could hug her!

"Don't get too excited just yet. We have a few things to go over."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I wave my hand. "But I can go?" She nods. "Today?" Nod. "What time?"

"As soon as your discharge papers are signed." I ask for a pen to speed this up. Whatever it is, I'll sign it; I don’t even need to read it. But she shakes her head, saying, "Wyatt is working on that currently. You'll be released to go with him."

For the first time, I look at him. As Dr. Norris continues, my eyes stay on him.

"There are some things that we need to discuss,” she says, “just the two of us. Wanna go do that now as Wyatt finishes up here?”

I nod, continuing to stare at him. Even after Dr. Norris has opened the door and I'm walking out, over my shoulder, I keep looking at him. It's only when he leans back and closes the door that I finally break eye contact.

Once Dr. Norris and I are in the next room over, I let out a huge exhale.

"Sit, sit," she tells me, and I follow. "We have a lot to discuss."

"When did you decide?" I hadn't met with Dr. Norris today, and I’m curious. Had she known all along that I was fine and that everyone else around me had just overreacted? Or was it something that she'd made her mind up on just earlier today?

"When I was looking through your file. I think you have a lot a potential to grow, but I don't necessarily think you need to do it here."

Her saying that means a lot.

"That being say, we need to talk about your plan of aftercare. We still need to keep meeting. Twice a week, at minimum. Unless you have another doctor you'd prefer to work with?" I shrug. I don't have a regular psychologist, if that's what she's asking. "I'll leave the schedule up to you, but on the way out, I want you to stop at the front desk and set up our next appointment. Fair?"

I tell her that it is.

"There's also the matter of what you plan is going to look like over the next couple of days. Though some people can quit things cold turkey, I don't advise it unless it's under medical supervision. Therefore, I want you to be very mindful about your habits. Before you do any cocaine or smoke or drink, I want you to give yourself ten minutes to consider it. Ask yourself what you'll gain from it." What I'll gain is a nice buzz, but don’t say that. "After those ten minutes, I want you to re-evaluate."

"What if I'm at a party? Can I drink then?"

"Do you really think now is the best time for you to go to parties?"

She has a point with that. "What about if I just want a glass of wine at dinner?"

"I'll leave it up to your judgement, but the thought process behind it is important. You can't change your habits unless you're consciously aware of the decisions you're making and trying to break. Does that make sense?"

"It does. What about Wyatt?" She asks me what I mean. "Does he know all of this, too?"

"No. What we've discussed--and will continue to discuss--will be kept in confidence. Think of Wyatt as your unofficial chaperone."

My eyebrows raise as I repeat her words. "A ‘chaperone’? What, is he supposed to be with me for the next twenty-four hours or something? Never leave my side?" It comes out as a sarcastic joke, but I really need to know; am I leaving one place of supervision just to be supervised somewhere else?

"No, not per say. It's recommended that you don't spend the next couple of days alone and that you choose to be around someone who is supportive and will keep you honest, but it's not a mandate that he stays with you. We just needed someone to come pick you up, and he's the one we got ahold of first."

She leans back in her seat. "So what questions do you have for me?"

Questions? I take a moment to think about it. I don't think I have any questions, but the fact that she's asking makes me think that I should. "Um, so I don't to do anything else?"

"Just take care of yourself." She stands. "You want to go get everything packed up and I'll tell Wyatt to meet you at the front desk?"

I practically leap up when she says that. Without hesitation, I leave the room. Once I'm back in the bedroom, I begin to gather my stuff.

In hopes that I wouldn't be here too long, I hadn’t really unpacked. There are a few things that I need to pick up--dirty clothes, my notebook, makeup that wasn't destroyed in the other day's episode--but after I finish that, I take a moment to look around.

I've only been here three days and it feel like a lifetime. Praying that I'll get better sleep tonight in my own house in my own room in my own bed, I stare down at the bed in the middle of the room. I lean forward to look into the bathroom. I wonder if I should tell them about the hair dryer but decide against it. When they do find it, they’ll just add it on top of the already outrageous bill I’ve racked up by staying here.

I turn the light off on my way out. "So long, suckers," I mutter.

As I walk down the hall, I pass Tally. I slow down a bit. At first, she looks happy, but, as she sees my bag, her smile falls.

"Ah. Looks like someone's being released today."

I nod, a true smile on the face. "Yep. And not a day too soon."

"Good for you." She pauses. "Take care of yourself, Shadow."

"You--" But before I can finish, her back is towards me and she's walking away quickly. She looks like she’s in a hurry or late for something. I shake my head. What I strange girl.

Wyatt and Dr. Norris are waiting for me at the front desk when I arrive.

"Take care of yourself, Shadow," says Dr. Norris. "It's been nice getting to know you. I have to run, but don't forget to book that appointment."

She walks off, and it’s and now it's just Wyatt and me.

He's staring at me, but I pay him no mind. Looking at the woman behind the desk, I tell her, "I'd like to make an appointment, please."

After my appointment is booked and we’re all set to go, Wyatt offers to carry my bags. I’m still ignoring him, though, so I walk past him, forcing him to try to catch up.

Eventually he does, saying, "Shadow, wait. Hold on a minute." I continue, forcing him to pick up the pace. He gets two steps ahead of me just in time to open the door. I take my first step outside and take a moment to soak up the sun.

Everything feels warm and open and inviting and all I want to do is take a nap. Preferably in a sun beam like a cat. Yes, a nap after a bath sounds amazing. My own house, my own bath, my own... everything.

But first I need to ditch Wyatt.

"How are you doing?"

I roll my eyes. Is he serious? Lips tight, I say, "Fine."

"Yeah?"

Finally, I look up at him. I have so much to say and nothing at all. He doesn't care about me. No, if he cared about me and my feeling, he wouldn’t have forced me into this situation to begin with. He probably wants to know just whether or not I'm safe to return to the band.

"Why are you here?"

He frowns. "We came to pick you up."

"No, like why are you really--" Suddenly I realize what he's said. "Y-you're not here alone?" When he shakes my head, my stomach drops, and my heart begins racing.

"We're all here." He points at a car that's parked a few feet away. Ethan's car. "I just volunteered to be the one to come in and get you."

I stare at the car. Though I can't see inside, I know they can see me. Clutching the strap to my bag, I shake my head. "Nope," I tell him. Nope, this isn't something I can do right now. Moving as fast as my weary legs can take me, I walk in the opposite direction. Wyatt calls my name, but I pretend not to hear it.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? Aren't you ready to go?"

Sure, I'm ready to go, but not with them. I take out my phone and request an Uber. I check the time. Five minutes.

Wyatt catches back up. He grabs my arm. I violently pull back, nearly stumbling over my own feet. I glare up at him, yelling,

"Do not touch me!"

He puts his hands up in surrender. To any other person looking at him, his face is blank, but, for me, I know better. There's shock at my outburst, shock that he's not quite sure how to handle.

"I don't want to see you right now," I say. "I don't want to see any of you right now. I can't believe I have to say that, but the fact that any of you are here pisses me off so much. I don't care that you're here to sign the paperwork; that's fine. But don't expect me to suddenly be excited to see you."

He sighs. "You're mad."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." I glance down at my phone. Three minutes now. "So just get back in the car and go home."

"But--"

"Yeah, I'll be at the next rehearsal. That's what you're going to ask, isn't it? I'll be there and I'll be early and I'll be sober. Just shoot me a text and I will be there."

A brief silence falls between up. I can feel him looking down at me, but my eyes are trained on my phone. I watch the little car moving down the streets, praying that it gets here sooner than it says it will. Even just a few more minutes with Wyatt is too many.

Eventually, he speaks; and when he does, his voice is soft. "We just wanted to tell you that we're happy you're back out." I roll my eyes. He's sounding more and more absurd. "So, can you just let me take your stuff so we can go?”

I don't respond to him, but, luckily, I don't have to. A few seconds later, a car approaches. Checking the license plate, I see it's the one I've requested. I exhale. Finally.

"Sorry," I say, "I've got my own ride."

He doesn't say anything as I walk away. Was getting an Uber the smartest thing to do? My wallet would probably say no, but, as I slide into the car, greet the driver, and look back at Wyatt as we drive off, I know:

It’s the only thing that I wanted to do.

-

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to sound off here. Talk to you on Friday!

-LH

[lilicy-secrets]

Home Is Where the Heart Is Chapter 3

I eyed the doctor hoping not to have to stay in the hospital because I didn't want to give my parents or the kids at school the chance to visit. "Well... she is having slight problems with hand eye coordination, but that's due to her needing glasses. Also, for some unknown reason, she occasionally looses all control over some part of her body. She can be writing perfectly fine for five minutes then her muscles just relax instead. It could be due to the head trauma, but we can't find the exact source. Last she has had two fainting spells without reason. We'll have to keep an eye on her."

I felt my heart drop, and looked at Brendon with a bitter sweet smile. He looked a little upset, but still very happy.

"Before the two of you devise a plan for him to stay the night, we'll just have you come in once a week. You'll tell us if these symptoms get better or worse or don't change at all. If you agree to that and taking your prescription, you may go home tonight. I have your discharge papers right here."

We all walked the rest of the way to the room. I was super excited; even though I was only here consciously for six hours, I really didn't want to stay any longer. I wanted to be somewhere safe, safe with someone who cares for me. 'Brendon doesn't really care for you; you're just a distraction from the one he truly cares for but lost.' The dark voice in my head said. 'That may be the case, but at least I'm getting treated better than being a maid and punching bag.' I sat on the bed and took the paperwork from Doctor Alexander. I focused intensely on the muscles in my hand as I read through the paperwork. Dr. Alexander had stepped outside and Brendon had gone with him making it a little easier to keep control of my body, or so I thought. Suddenly the hand with the papers in it went limp causing the paper to scatter to the floor. I quickly slid off the side of the bed and began using my good hand to gather the pages until I lost control of that one too. 'With you like this, he might give up on being your hero. Every hero only comes when necessary and teaches the civilians to not rely on him/her all the time. You'll always need him, and he'll give up.'

'When that day comes, I'll have to suck it up and deal with it like I've done with everything else.'

'It won't be that easy and you know it. You are in love with this guy. You have watched all his interviews, listened to all of his songs, looked up his bio. You're not obsessed with the idol; you're in love with the man behind the success. Imagine dropping a mirror off the side of Mount Everest; that's exactly how your heart will feel when he leaves you.'

I sighed trying not to let the dark voice get to me. I looked at the papers all over the floor and the glanced at either arm. 'I'll just have to prove to him that I'm not a useless girl, a lost cause, or a plague on earth.'

'You're right; you're not completely useless. He could just use your immobile body for pleasure until Sarah takes him back.'

I ignored the voice as best as I could, but that last comment brought terrible images to my mind. I felt tears beginning to pool in my eyes, but blinked them back putting on a face of determination. I finally got one of my hands to respond, but, sadly, I heard the door opening causing me to lose focus. My arm went dead again. I looked up to see Brendon waving to someone, and then he turned to see me.

"(Y/f/n), I'm so sorry. Dr. Alexander was giving me advice about how to help you and what I can work on with you to try and get your body to work with you brain again. Also, what I need to be on watch about," Brendon said gathering up the pages, organizing them, and placing them in an organized pile. I watched him as tears slowly broke the dam that was my eye lids and made thin salty trails down my face. 'He's been so caring, thoughtful, and helpful, but I'm going to be more of a burden to him than he originally thought.'

"(Y/f/n), do you want m-" he stopped as soon as he saw my face. I saw him squat in front of me and envelope me with his strong arms. He held my head to his shoulder with one hand and petted my hair. "(Y/n/n), what is the matter? Did I upset you? Was it a flashback? What ever it was you can tell me. I'm your hero, and I can't help if I don't know what the problem is."

I tried to move my arms to hug him and once again they refused to move. "I'm going to be even more of a burden now. Brendon, I know that due to my circumstances, you really want to help me, but I can't let you. My dad was right, I'm useless, especially now. You can't keep watch over me 24/7 hoping to see positive results. I mean it may never change and can even get worse. If you do this, I'll be become too dependent on you. How is that fair for you? If Sarah wanted you back, then you'd suddenly become a packaged deal or have to give me to someone else. I can't let you risk your future for me." I began crying harder.

"(Y/f/n), stop crying about that bullshit. Sorry if it seems harsh, but you can't think like that. First off, you never were, and still are not, a burden. Second off, yes, because of your past I want to be there, but that's not the only reason. When you are not putting up an act of being too shy and timid, you are an amazing girl. You show that you don't care if you're a complete mess, covered in bruises or even care how and why they're there. You're honest with yourself, and even protect those who harm you. Therefore, you're loyal, fun loving, girl that isn't going to waste time with people that are going to get hung up on appearance. Next, you're dad was totally wrong on that. You can still put on a smile and be optimistic about you're circumstances once you get used to them. That is rare. I know it may never change or even get worse, but friends don't just give up, they try harder. If you become dependent, who really fucking cares because if someone truly loves me then they will respect that you come with me. Now let's get these papers signed, those eyes dry, a smile back on that gorgeous face of yours, and go get some food for my hungry tummy!"

I looked at him shocked, and felt my arms finally hug him back. He wiped my tears off my face causing me to blush and smile. "Look you already have half of the orders finished, so let me have that pen so we can ditch this joint." My body continued to obey me as I handed it to him effortlessly and answered everything for him. We walked to the nurses' station and picked up two files, one for both Brendon and myself, and my prescription. As we climbed onto the elevator a few feet from the desk, I started feeling faint. Brendon realized something was off and squatted down. "Get on my back, so we can get to the car without having to readmit you."

I did as I was told just as I felt all my muscles go limp. "Wow... it really is random, unless you just wanted me to carry you.  If that were the case, all you had to do was ask. (Y/f/n), I will be your car until we reach mine," he said looking at my limp face. Then he started running while making engine noises. I started laughing in my head. I regained control after getting outside, and I stared pulling his shirt like I was steering.

At his car, he set me in carefully and climbed into the driver's seat. "So what's for dinner?"

"I really want some sushi and vegetable lo mien."

"Awesome, that's around the corner from our apartment and next to the pharmacy," he said starting the car.

~Time skip to Outside the Pharmacy: Brought to You by a Villain That's Vying for a Girl's Attention. (Part of Panic! At The Disco's song "Girls/Girls/Boys") ~

Brendon walked with me inside to get my pills, and as we waited he went through the accessories by the counter acting like a complete dork. I was trying my best not to laugh to loud, so I wouldn't disturb the elderly people in the quiet, cold building. Finally, I got what I needed; Brendon stuck the bag in the car inside the glove box before dragging me to a hole in the wall Chinese Restaurant. I did amazingly well controlling my chopsticks all through dinner, and we talked about our favorite things, our dreams, our goals, and random childhood memories. If I didn't know that he thought of me as a sister or friend I would swear this was a date. After dinner he carried me to the car, and gave me two pills along with the to go cup of water we got at the restaurant. I quickly gulped it all down before we drove to the apartment building.

"Okay, (y/f/n), hide your face in my chest," Brendon said as he carried me bridal style to a door. He unlocked and opened the door with ease, and I did as I was told. Upon entering, I saw that he needed a woman around because it was a bit of a mess. "Sorry about the filth, I'm still not used to not having Sarah around to help with the work." He gave me a tour of the whole house before he took me to my room. He opened the door before setting me down on my feet.

The room's temperature was perfect, the room held a queen sized bed with (Second/fave/color) sheets and (f/c) skulls. He had my books put away, and had a laptop sitting on a desk. All of my clothes, shoes, jewelry and make up were organized and put away. I felt tears of joy and amazement fall down to the floor as I admired the room. "What, so you can get my room neat and organized, but you have to leave the rest of the house in a bit of disorder?" I giggled.

"Don't judge me. Do you want to take a shower?"

"Yes, but I don't take team showers."

He began to laugh as he spoke "I wouldn't expect anything different," he said in between fits of laughter.  Suddenly, he got serious. "You have thirty minutes, one second later, and I'm coming in to get you."

"U-u-understood," I stuttered while blushing. I entered the bathroom which was extremely tidy, and got into the shower. The hot drops off water cascaded down my body making the stress melt away. I took my time in the shower staying focused on all my muscles. Thankfully, I made it through my shower, but as I was stepping out of the shower, I lost my balance and fell. I got up quickly and wrapped a towel around me. I heard a knock on the door. "Do you need help in there?"

"No, I just slipped on the wet floor, I'll be fine," I said getting dressed and walking out of the bathroom.

"God, you are cruel. I mean that would have been a perfect time for your muscles to fail," he said sighing. Before I could feel offended, he smiled, "I'm just joking. Don't make me worry like that. I thought I was going to have to come get you, and, once you regained control, I'd have to accept a good slap or two."

I blushed thinking about that, "well, I wouldn't slap you because it's better to have you see me naked, dry me off, and dress me than to lie on the floor for God knows how long. That doesn't mean to expect it to actually happen."

"Aw, come on you could pretend for me.... Anyway, it's my turn," he said walking into the room and I heard the shower turn on. I blushed thinking about how he would look in the shower. I walked to my room and dropped my dirty clothes in the basket by my door before going to lay on my bed. I smiled as I lay there looking at my new room. "He has no idea how much he has helped me."

"Oh, I think he does," Brendon called from my open door way. "So do you talk to yourself often?" He continued to stand there looking at me.

"Do you lurk in doorways often?"

"Maybe, or maybe I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Just come in, I mean you came to my hospital room while I was unconscious, yet you won't come into the room when I'm wide awake," I said before yawning.

He laughed as he came to sit on my bed, "well, there were nurses and doctors watching to make sure I didn't do anything."

"Oh yeah, like the Brendon Urie would do anything to some mystery girl. Now, maybe it'd be different if I was Sarah or something," I said as I saw his face drop a little. I realized what I said then. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bring up her name."

"It's okay," he said before smiling. "I guess I have you fooled into thinking that I would never try anything on you. I mean your beautiful, funny, and smart, but you are a little hard on yourself." He looked me straight in the eyes as he said this.

"Mr. Urie, I swear if you continue to be this sweet to me, I'll have to fall in love with you," I said jokingly, but knew it was already too late.

"Gasp, you mean you already haven't. Hmm, maybe I'm losing my touch. Oh well, I guess you'll be a bit of a challenge," he said trying to look serious, but he kept breaking into a smile.

I yawned again as he laughed. "Maybe I'm not as wide awake I thought I was."

"Go to sleep then. I'll see you in the morning," He said getting up.

"I don't want to, though. I'm enjoying spending time with you!" I whined like a little kid.

He laughed, "we can watch a movie in the living room, in that case."

"Can it be a horror movie?"

"Sure come on," he said about to leave my room.

"Carry me," I said throwing my arms up before they fell back down.

"Fine, you have been moving a lot." He let me on his back and ran to the living room. He put a movie in the DVD player, put a blanket on top of me, and sat down laying my head in his lap. "Comfy?"

"Very," I said. Before the movie even started, I was out like a light.

[arveeee]

Dead phone

Bishop Losa x Reader

Like always: sorry for my bad English.   

Gif by Mitchmarnii

Bishop was furious. You haven't seen him this angry in a long time. In fact, never. It wasn't just emotion anymore, it was cold rage. He didn't shout, he didn't raise his voice, in fact, he didn't even say anything. He simply walked up to you, led you out of the pub you were in with some girls and opened the truck door. Your first instinct was to protest, but you didn't feel like making a scene in front of your friends. And all it took was one look at Bishop for you to give up saying what you thought about being treated that way. Bishop took off with a squeal of tyres, something he was unlikely to do. 'Fasten your seatbelt,' he growled, and you reached over and tried to fasten your seatbelt clumsily. Bishop stopped the car, leaned over you and violently reached for your seatbelt. He fumbled with them a moment and fastened the belt, pulling it down so that you couldn't move. You wanted to loosen it, but you couldn't, and something told you not to unbuckle it. Bishop moved quickly through the empty streets of Santo Padre driving home. ‘What's going on?’  You finally couldn't stand it and broke the silence, but your man didn't answer anything. 'Is something wrong, Obispo?' You tried again. ‘We'll talk at home', he said quite calmly, but so seriously that you bit your lips and didn't say anything more. 

Bishop stopped the car in front of the house, got out of the car and before you had time to crawl out of your deep seat, he opened the door for you and pulled your elbow. He slammed the door not really softly and pushed you in front of him. You stumbled back, but Bishop grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the front door. You wanted to break free, but he held you tight. Too tight. He let you go for a moment to open the door, but then immediately grabbed you and shoved you inside. He snatched the bag you had in your hands, threw it into a corner and pushed you into the living room, grabbing a stool on the way. He put it in the middle of the living room, sat you on it and started walking around in silence. ‘Is something wrong Bishop?’ He stood in front of you abruptly. - What happened? Are you still asking what happened? - He took a breath and calmed his voice - Where is your fucking phone? ‘in my handbag’ you answered uncertainly. Bishop picked up the bag from the floor and dumped its contents on the floor. He pulled out your phone from the pile of things and showed you the discharged device. ‘Can you explain this to me, sweetheart?’ You looked at the dark screen of the phone. ‘Well... it's discharged‘ you said quietly. You were slowly beginning to understand Bishop's agitation. ‘But…’ - you hesitated to look in your head for a reasonable explanation. ‘I was fucking worried. I didn't know what was happening to you. I've been trying to call you for five hours. I thought something was wrong. You can't do that sort of thing. Do you understand, querida?’ ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to’ ’You didn't mean to, you always don't, but…’ ‘It just happened…’ ‘That's right’ Bishop sighed, ‘and what am I supposed to do with you?’ ‘I thought you wouldn't be back until Wednesday… you supposed to be on the run’ ‘That's no excuse for discharged phone. If something had happened, how would you have called for help? I called because I wanted to tell you that we had sorted everything out and I had free time.’ He looked at you with sudden desire, ‘I wanted us to take a few days off. Only you and me. ‘Really? Alone? Bish, it sounds so good’, you stood up and fell into his arms. Bishop kissed you, and then whispered with in your ear ‘Don't think you're getting away with this, querida, the punishment for your stupid behaviour wont miss you’.

[doubleshotofsomething]

To Hell & Back

Part Two: “Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell & back”

Summary: You still hate Bucky. But you need him to keep you from going to jail... So, what’s the harm in inviting him over to dinner?

Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Warnings: Angst?? (i think). Probably typos( which will be fixed). Implied violence. 

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

--

Part one [In case you missed it]

----

It's Saturday.

Your day off. Well, what used to be your day off until it was turned into a family therapy session.

Well... Not an actual therapy session. It is literally just dinner with your family, including your sister's husband - a man you refuse to identify as your brother in law for reasons that will end in you being called the j-word. The husband, because he's the only son-in-law your parents have, has been dubbed the "referee" of the Saturday Sessions.

Each session, since you've been discharged, has made committing murder seem more and more appealing.

So appealing, that you're standing in front of your neighbour's door with a basket of muffins and a please-keep-me-from-committing-felonies smile.

Bucky, because he just spent the afternoon searching for a new bar, is standing on the other side of the door. Both confused and frightened to see you at his door voluntarily.

"Is there a bomb in that basket?" He asks, eyes roaming over you suspiciously. "Believe me, it's not gonna work."

You blink at him, then at the basket. Then back at him. "Why would I put a bomb in a muffin basket and then hold it?"

He raises a sceptical eyebrow at you.

You huff. "Fine, they're poisoned. I accidentally added laxatives while making them-"

"Accidentally?"

"Yes, accidentally-" you glare at him. "-they're not for you. They're from us."

He blinks at you, confused. You haven't spoken to him, actually spoken to him, for a few months. You avoid him like he has a disease and when your paths do cross, you just glare at him like he threw your cat into on coming traffic.

It's been a few days since the coffee machine incident. He has a brand new one - better than the last one - sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for him to develop the courage to give it to you. It should be easy. He has mastered the art of making amends.

But... He can't, for some reason, bring it to you.

"Wait-" he frowns, your words finally registering in his head, "-did you just say from us?"

You set the basket down. "So, remember when you broke my one shot at happiness?"

"Oh god." He forgot how dramatic you are, as well.

"Yeah, you can fix that little error by being a doll and-" you pause, then frown, struggling to find the right words.

"Muffin poisoned your tongue?"

"I'm trying to ask you to be my plus one for tonight's dinner-" you grit your teeth, your blood beginning to boil. "-at my parents house."

You didn't look him in the eye when you said that. And by the sounds of it, he doubts this is something he should be going to. Or something you should be going to. Not if it brings out this side of you.

"Who are the muffins for?"

They were for your sister. You broke her nose last week, which was never your intention, and the guilt has been eating you up alive since. The punch was meant for her asshole husband.

"You coming or not?"

"Let me grab a wine and the keys."

"We have muffins. No need to waste your good wine on mediocre tastes."

"I'm bringing the wine."

"If you make us stop to pick out flowers, I will watch porn with the volume on full blast every night for a week."

"Why are you always so violent?"

--

"So, how bad is it?" Bucky asks.

You've been in the car for a half an hour, because you chose the busiest route and the most congested during rush hour, and that's the first thing either of you have uttered since you politely dragged him out of his apartment.

You shrug. "Three roads lead to this one, so we'll be here another half hour."

"I mean the situation-" he drums his fingers against the wheel. "-you literally chose to be in a car with me, for the longest time possible. Either you want to get there late or you don't want to get there at all."

"Maybe I just like spending time with you."

Bucky scoffs, but doesn't question you further.

The car is silent, aside from the traffic outside, and you could almost relax. For just a moment, you could close your eyes and imagine you're somewhere else.

But you can't. Because you're not. You're on your way to a dinner that shouldn't be happening and is only happening because you're part of your neighbour's redemption list.

Because he just had to have a conscious.

"I punched my sister last week," you mumble.

Bucky wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He has met your sister, a handful of times - at the hospital, outside your room and outside your apartment door.

Every time she'd come over, she would knock hard enough to make him think she's part of SWAT team. And each time, he would could hear you scramble to switch off all devices that could alert her of your presence inside.

One time, you'd both arrived a few minutes after each other. His door was closer and already open, so you shoved your grocery in his hand and dived into his apartment to hide from your sister. He had to pretend he hasn't seen you since you left for work , and that the packet of sanitary pads that fell out were for his girlfriend.

He didn't have one.

He wants to laugh, because he doesn't like her at all. But he doesn't, because she's your sister. "What did she do?"

"She married an asshole-" you scoff. "-and decided to get in the way and I tried to punch said asshole."

At this, he grins. "And you need me there because?"

"I need you to keep me from trying to kill him," you begrudgingly admit. "I'm too high maintenance for prison."

"How bad is this guy that you need me to help you not kill him?"

"Bad enough that I'm gonna need you to park a few blocks away from the house," you turn to look at him, his confused eyes meeting yours for a quick second. "I told them we're taking the bus."

"Wow."

"Which means we only get to spend less than two hours there, if you drive a little slow-" you pause when he drives passed a McDonald's. "-hey, can we stop and get milkshake?"

He deadpans. "We have dinner plans with your parents."

"I get that you and them might have gotten along since you decided to be a hero," you glare at him. "But they're not as cool as the hospital visits made them seem."

Your parents have invited him over to dinner a handful of times, and each time he had to decline. You and him weren't on the best of terms, and he didn't want to make things worse by showing up for dinner without your knowledge.

He knows, first hand, that a few interactions aren't enough to give the full depth of a person. But he saw how devastated they were, how heartbroken they were, at the sight of tubes and needles sticking out of you.

He doesn't believe, he can't believe, for a second that they're as bad as you say they are.

But he won't argue with you. Not about this. "We'll get milkshake after."

"Hey, remember that coffee machine you br-"

"Oh, fuck you!"

***

You're not a fan of wine. At least, not the wine Bucky brought to the dinner.

An hour into the dinner and you've already had enough glasses to have Bucky worried. The wine is halfway to empty by the time dessert rolls in, and when your sister's husband clears his throat, you abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

The second hour into the dinner is where things got interested. Interesting enough for Bucky to take the bottle from you before you could throw it at someone's head. Mainly because he wanted to throw it at someone's head. Your sister's husband's head to be specific.

Just as your mother gets up to start making tea for the muffins you brought, Bucky is the first on his feet and the first to use the 'we have to get going before we miss the bus' excuse.

You grin at him, vision slightly hazy from the wine you drank on an empty stomach.

"Mhmm," you hum as you cling into him to get to your feet, "the bus. We gotta- the bus. Bah-yeee."

"I'll make sure she gets home safe," he promises to your parents and they believe him.

Hell, you believe him. If there's one thing you can trust your neighbour to do, it's to save your life. But not your coffee machine.

He guides back to the car, which is parked exactly where you told him to, and he's never been happier to have listened to you. You sing all the way back, some ridiculous song about when you're fat and old, and you're the most content he's ever seen you.

Drunk off wine, eyes glassy and smile wide, as you try to mimic his steps. You sigh when you get into your seat, even though you fight him on opening your own door, and fumble lazily with your seat belt until he helps you clip it in.

Your struggle to find a comfortable position, but forget all about that when he parks the car outside your favourite coffee shop. You're out before he can even unclip his seatbelt and you're inside before he makes it to the door.

"Hi," you whisper-yell as you lean against the counter. "Pssst. Hi. Hello."

The barista blinks at you. Bucky cuts in before he can get a word out. "We'll take coffee. Filter. And anything that's bread-"

"-don't listen to him, he breaks hearts for a living. Sometimes he rips them out." I jab your pointer finger against the countertop. "I will take the strongest coffee you've got. I'm in the mood for bad decisions and-"

"We'll be at the booth, in the back." Bucky gently pries you from the counter. "One coffee and two bottles of water-"

You try to smack his hands away. "Why must you be so- Barnes, I swear to god, I will take your parking space."

He shoves you into the booth, then takes a seat opposite you. You attempt to make a break for the counter, but the glare he fixes you with is enough to keep you in your place.

It should scare you. The look he gives you. You know what he is capable of, without mad scientists to control him, you know the damage he's done. It takes a special kind of strength to face people like the flag smashers, and a special kind of crazy to go after them.

Bucky is both. And yet, his glare doesn't scare you. So much so, that you return it.

"I hate your brother-in-law-"

"Sister's husband," you cut in to correct him. "I refuse to recognise him as my anything."

He nods. "Right. So, let me get this straight-"

Bucky pauses as the barista sets down the coffee, the water, two croissants, some breadsticks and a garlic roll. When he's satisfied that there's nothing else, he leaves you alone with Bucky and the breads.

"You got work tomorrow-" he puts sugar into your coffee and stirs, before handing it to you. "-so you're gonna need to eat as much, so that it absorbs all that wine."

You glare at him but still do as he says. He's right and you'd rather sulk than admit it.

"So," he clears his throat to get your attention. "Your sister is an asshole, that married an asshole. And your parents are enablers of all that bullshit?"

You nod, practically shoving the garlic bread into your mouth. You didn't touch the food your mother cooked and, other than that milkshake Bucky bought you, you haven't had anything to eat all day.

"Instead of just sending you to therapy-" he scrunches his face in disgust at the thought. "-I can't fucking believe I'm advocating for that, but instead of paying for therapy. They do that? Host a dinner, sit a circle and kumbaya the problems away?"

Taking a sip from your coffee, you continue to nod. "Is it helping?"

He frowns, meeting your eyes. "What?"

"The mandated sessions-"you swallow. "-I heard you and Wings talking about it."

Thin walls. Shared balconies. Despite not being in each other's life, both of you know more than enough because of your apartments.

Your balcony and his are separated by a small barrier, but you can still hear his conversations - and visa versa- if you leave your glass door open enough when he's out there.

The wall that separates your apartment is thin enough for him to pick up on your habits. You don't think you're a creature of habit, but he would disagree.

He can tell, just from your foot steps, what you're going to watch or do in the living room. From the little sounds you make, he can tell which series you're binge watching for the umpteenth time and which one is on just for background noise.

If you weren't a creature of habit, he wouldn't have found you in time. You wouldn't be sitting in front of him, asking about his wellbeing, instead of dealing with yours.

"Wings is Captain now," he corrects, and you accept the deflection.

You would never overstep, or push. Not with him. Never with him.

"If Captain, why Wings?"

Narrowing his eyes, he pushes the bread sticks closer to you. "Fine, Captain Wings."

Again, you obey the silent instruction.

"Where were we-"

"We were plotting an asshole's abduction," you tell him, "and then dropping him off at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. If that's not available, then maybe near Dyer Island."

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Why would we drop your sister’s husband on an Island?”

"It's a place, with a shitload of great white sharks."

"And you know this because?"

"I like to always be prepared."

"For what?" His brows furrow. "Do you just know random places to dump people that–"

You cut in. "–will lead to an inevitable death by natural causes? Yes."

He stares at you. Actually stares. Openly, at you. He can't remember the last time he did that, looked at you, for no other reason than to just look.

You didn't always hate him. When he first moved into your apartment building, and the landlord introduced you too, you were indifferent. He didn't think you knew who he was, most people don't at first glance, so he was relieved. Indifference was definitely better than everything else.

That was until you walked passed him and Sam in the lobby of the building, a week after he moved in.

"Sarge–" you nodded at him, as you checked your mail. Then nodded at Sam as you made your way out of the building. "–Wings."

You knew, you always knew who he was, and just didn't care. That was refreshing, to say the least.

The hate only came that night, or the following morning, he wasn't sure. All Bucky knows is, he meddled, and now you hate him for it. For saving you.

He's tried to talk to you about it. Countless of times, he's tried, and each time you hate him a little bit more. Or so it seems.

He wants to talk about it now. It's obvious in the way he's looking at you, like he can't believe you're here, in front of him. You can't either, but you won't ever admit that to him.

Hell would sooner freeze over before you actually admitted that maybe, just maybe, he should have meddled sooner.

You won't. So, instead, you put down the bread stick and sit back. "I know a really cool coffee place... If you still need a new place to hang."

It's an olive branch. You don't ever say what you really mean, he knows that, and he smiles at that little fact. That he knows that, he knows you.

"Is the barista as dramatic as I hear?"

"Only to strangers that break down her doors," you shrug. "Oh, and guys who break her coffee machine–"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

You grin. Because you're just as petty as he is.

---

Tags: @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ , @arctic-duchess​

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 03 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 1.7 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (02)

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Keeping The Promise

Smiling, you listen to Mrs. Ellyne stories. It's been a week since you woke up, and three days ago they told you to take walks around the hospital every once in a while. And that's how you met Mrs. Katherine Ellyne, eighty-four years old, staying here to treat a broken leg. She's the one distracting you when Keanu is out to rest and eat, or in a meeting with your doctors. She's very kind, and you enjoy listening to her.

Seated in the small cafeteria, which is empty at the moment, you give her all your attention as she tells you about her High School sweetheart. You wonder if you had any crushes back then, but it's useless to try. So far, nothing came back. Not even a flash, as Dr. Harris said it could happen. Maybe a dream, she said, but when you fall asleep, everything you see it's the hospital, Keanu, and the doctors. Everything else is blank.

“(Y/N)?” Someone calls, and you recognize Dr. Wright's voice. Turning at him, you mutter a ‘good morning’. “There's someone here to see you. But you must be sure you feel fine.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you give a glance to Mrs. Ellyne, saying goodbye before standing up. “Who is it?” You ask, walking over him.

“Her name is Laura. She's a friend of yours.”

Laura. Keanu told you about her. “Alright. Let's do this.” Nodding, you start following him through the hospital.

Laura has been your friend since Elementary school, and, even though she moved away for High School, you never lost contact. You didn't know why Keanu was telling you all this yesterday, but now you do. He wanted you to know at least something before meeting up with her.

When you enter your room, a very worried woman with teary eyes stands up from the couch. There was a spark of hope in your heart, that her long, blond hair and green eyes will bring something back. That her face would somehow feel familiar. It doesn't.

“(Y/N).” She mumbles, running to pull you into a hug. It hurts a little, despite the medication you've been taking for the pain. But you don't complain, hugging her back. “I can't believe it, honey. I'm so sorry.” She cries, and you don't know what to do. “I should've come sooner but the doctors told me it was too soon and–”

“It's alright.” You assure her, offering a small smile when you pull away. “Everything is... Complicated.”

“You... You don't... Recognize me, do you?” She stutters, wiping some tears away.

Shaking your head no, you look down. “I'm sorry.” It doesn't take much for you to realize you want Keanu. You don't know what to do, what to say. Laura is breaking down, and it's your fault. And you just don't know what to do.

“My God.” She says, a hand covering her mouth. You notice when her eyes fall on your belly. She knows, of course she does. Keanu did say you two are pretty close. Or were pretty close.

“Don't worry. I'm... I'm alright.” Assuring her, you turn around when you listen to the door opening. A wave of relief washes over you when you see Keanu. Smiling at him, you gesture at Laura. “Uhm... Hi. This is Laura.” Your head hurts badly, and you're not sure what to do. “Laura, this is Keanu, my husband.”

“Oh my.” She exclaims, and you remember who Keanu is. “It's really him.”

“Didn't you know I was married to him?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you ask her.

“I-I did. Of course, I did.” She speaks fast, and her nervousness takes you by surprise. She must be a fan. “But I've never met him in person, I... You lived in Miami and only now you came to New York so...”

“Alright.” Nodding, you exchange a glance with Keanu. “Do you want... A selfie or something?” You're not sure if you can even offer her that, but you're lost here. Taking a deep breath, you move to the bed to sit down because the room is starting to spin around.

“Oh, no.” She bursts out, speaking fast. “Not in a hospital at least.” Laura stands there awkwardly as Keanu comes to your side. “So you two... Are you two alright?”

Laura sounds weird, and you want to ask what's wrong. She probably doesn't know what to do, seeing you in this situation. And neither do you. “We're doing fine,” Keanu answers before you can, glancing at Laura. “Actually I have good news.”

“What is it?” Looking at him, you move up on the bed, resting your back against the headboard.

“You'll be discharged tomorrow.” He says in a low voice, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And we'll be going home.”

“Finally.” You say, unable to describe how happy you are to finally leave the hospital.

(Y/N) couldn't even begin to understand the feeling her smile provokes in his heart. Keanu has to control himself not to touch her, to take her hand, caress her cheek. He's caught among too many confusing feelings. He doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, but maybe she's expecting him to be more intimate, since to her, they're married. But he knows it's a lie, and he knows he shouldn't be too touchy with her. It's a constant fight between his morals and the agreement he made of looking after her.

“I'll leave you two to talk.” He says, giving her a small smile before walking away.

“Tell me how you're feeling,” Laura asks just as he's closing the door.

Keanu needs to talk, and, as much as he doesn't want to, he has to find Dr. Harris. He's still uncertain about this whole marriage idea, and part of him will blame her if this backfires. But she's one of the best psychologists in New York, and he has to trust her to do what's best for (Y/N).

It takes a while, a little more than thirty minutes for her to enter her office, where Keanu has been waiting. He's bouncing his legs nervously, hands resting on his lap. He lets everything out to her, all his worries. He's taking (Y/N) to his house, a place she believes to be her home. What is he supposed to do? Sleep on the same bed? Give her some space? Let her set the pace? But what is she's counting on him to do that?

“Mr. Reeves, you're thinking too much.” Dr. Harris says, taking her glasses off and lying them on the table before her. “I need you to have a clear head about this. If she suspects and figures out, it could be too hard on her. She's still recovering and it could endanger the child.” Keanu leans forward, both hands running through his hair. “I know it's a lot to ask of you, Mr. Reeves, but you agreed. And I don't think we can end things just now. She could–”

“Everything I want is for her to get well. But this... I'm lying to her.” He raises his voice, angry, worried. Too much depends on him now, and if he does something wrong, something that could affect her in any way, he'd never forgiven himself. He just needs to know how to do things right. “Damn it, she thinks I'm her husband. She thinks I'm the father of her child. This isn't fair. She's trusting me.” He punches the table before getting up.

“Mr. Reeves, we can call this off of you want.” She sighs, and Keanu paces around the room. He can't do it. It isn't right. She needs her true husband, the one who's dead.

Shaking his head, Keanu's thoughts are racing. Closing his eyes, her image comes to his mind. When he first saw her, how she cried and hugged him. The promises he made, that he'd be by her side through the process. And the pregnancy. He couldn't call this off now, he couldn't leave her alone. “I got this.” He says, leaving the office and letting the door close with a loud thud behind him.

Right now, he hates Dr. Harris. He hates Dr. Wright and everyone who put him in this position. But it's not because of him. It's because of her. Keanu can't believe what he's doing to her. He's betraying her. And he can't even imagine what will happen when she remembers. When this lie is torn apart. She'll hate him, and he can't blame her for doing so.

Stopping by her room, his hand on the door handle, Keanu looks through the square window. (Y/N) is seated on the bed, with Laura caressing her stomach. She's smiling, and if anyone else looks, they'd never guess what she's going through. He didn't even notice the smile on his lips, lighting up his features. She's so beautiful, he can't deny that. And he can't stop looking.

Slowly, making sure to make his presence known, he opens the door and walks in.

“You have to start thinking about names,” Laura says, both the girl's eyes laying on him. But Keanu's attention is on her alone.

“I couldn't know.” She mutters, eyes on him. “Do we have anything in mind yet?” As she speaks, Keanu moves closer to her, making up his mind. He would let her choose the names, obviously. He wouldn't make any decisions for her. It's her child. Her voice is so sweet, so soft... It makes his heart beat a little faster.

“Not yet.” He answers, standing beside her.

“Alright.” (Y/N) smiles, turning her attention back at her friend.

The two women engage in another conversation, and he moves to the couch. Keanu tries to focus on his phone, but eventually, his eyes are attracted to her. Laura manages to make her laugh, and the sound is sweet, like a song. He's still staring when (Y/N)'s eyes meet his. She furrows her eyebrows a little, her smile getting a little brighter. Keanu couldn't help but sigh.

He knows it suddenly, that he'll do everything he can to help her. And when it's over, it's over. But until then, he'll keep his promise. He'll stand by her.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00

[mattness]

rock it till waterfalls

Genres: PWP, Songfic, Romantic Inspired by Beyonce's song "Rocket"

Jacob sends to her so many messages, until his black Aston Martin business class with tinted windows was parked in the parking near the office center where Gwen worked. He purposely took off from work for two hours so that they could spend this time together. That's why he was so insistent on texting after texting, begging her to leave the office for lunch.

Gwen: "Five minutes, Jacob. I can't give up everything for you, no matter how much I really want to."

The man snorted, then smiled.

"Okay. I'm waiting patiently for you in the parking lot".

The salon was filled with music from the Depeche Mode song, "Strange Love", and Jacob tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the rhythm, while he carefully looked towards the building, from which Gwendoline came out exactly to the chorus, pulling a leather jacket over a red t-shirt. Black tight pants perfectly emphasized her legs. Frye's gaze lingered on her hips, which caused the most indecent thoughts to creep into his head. While he was thinking about his own, Gwen, noticing a familiar black car in a half-empty parking lot, walked briskly towards it.

"Hi, Gwenny", Jacob greeted her as she climbed into the salon and kissed him on lips as a greeting.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked anxiously.

"My job", assassin chuckled and loosened the knot of black tie around his neck a little with fingers. Mortimer followed this action closely. "I'm going to Wales today for a couple of days, that's why I insisted on meeting."

"Oh", was all Gwendolyn breathed, who knew perfectly well that Jacob quite often had trips and even flights outside London for work, so she was no stranger to it. "Do you want to have a lunch together?"

Jacob nodded, then smiled slyly. Gwendolyn also knew this smile perfectly well, but now it seemed completely inappropriate. The man even raised his eyebrows, which made Mortimer roll her eyes irritably.

"What?" she feigned incomprehension.

"Gwenny, you know perfectly well what."

"Then let's go home—" she shrugged, but man didn't agree, explaining that they would waste time in vain. "Are you want it here?.."

"Why not? We wanted to start trying different places. Experiment—" Jacob reminded in the most innocent voice, biting his lips.

"But not in broad daylight!"

"The car has tinted windows."

"Everybody will hear us."

"I'll turn up the music louder."

Gwendolyn batted her long eyelashes in confusion, because all arguments against sex in the car were over. Or rather, she tried to come up with some other excuse, but the fantasy exhausted all its resources. Assassin's smile widened, and sparks of desire danced in his green eyes. As a final argument in favor, Frye added in a hoarse baritone:

"We won't see each other for few days, Gwenny."

She finally gave up. Sighing heavily, Gwen pulled her jacket off her shoulders, then bent down to her boots, took them off and began to unbutton her pants without any unnecessary words, while a cheerful Jacob turned up the volume of the music, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on his shirt. As soon as Mortimer straightened pants off herself, she glanced at Jacob, who, clicking one button near the steering wheel, locked the car doors.

"How much time do we have?"

"I have two hours", assassin whispered, and girl moved to his lap. His hands began to stroke her thighs possessively, rising higher and higher. Gwen took a deep breath, bent down to Jacob's face, pushing the interfering strands of her hair behind her ear, and kissed him. At first gently, as if trying on, and then sensually and passionately, as he loved. The kiss provoked both of them. Their breathing quickly lost its rhythm. Jacob lovingly explored Gwen's native body with his hands, getting his palms under the fabric of t-shirt and wanting to remove the interfering thing. Her fingers carefully straightened the buttons on his shirt, then slid over his skin. A languid moan escaped Gwen's lips through another kiss, and Jacob smiled, knowing very well, how much she liked his body, especially touching him. Gwendolyn broke away from the assassin's lips and began to kiss his neck.

You rock hard, I rock steady

"I'm leaving for just a couple of days, but how will I miss this", Frye breathed, with his eyes closed, enjoying the confident actions of his beloved. Her hands slid down his torso to the belt buckle on trousers. Jacob caught on the elastic band of her black lace panties, trying to pull it off. They both had to distract themselves from the caresses and tinker with her undressing.

Under the intoxicated excitement of Jacob's gaze, Gwendolyn couldn't resist and still took off her t-shirt. Assassin groaned, his fingers caught on the straps of her bra and, gently touching her delicate skin, pulled them off her fragile shoulders, pressing hot kisses to Gwen's chest, who couldn't restrain a new moan, lost in the sounds of some slow song. At this second, they didn't want to hurry anywhere to allow the sweet languor to fill not only every cell of the body, but also the entire space around. Jacob Frye knew how to make the whole world lose its meaning in the moments of their closeness, and they drowned together in the ocean of the highest bliss. His love was truly maddening.

Life has a reason, swimmin' in my love, your love liftin' Higher, harder, Got me screamin' to the Lord, boy!

She could already feel with her skin, how quickly Jacob was aroused, and a shiver of anticipation passed through her body from next actions, that would finally turn their heads. Assassin reluctantly pulled away from her chest, looked with darkened eyes at Gwen, who smiled seductively. Her hands confidently slid again to the belt buckle on Jacob's trousers, carefully unbuttoning, creating a moment of languor mixed with hot impatience.

"Come here. Closer to me, Gwenny—" Jacob whispered passionately, and Gwen didn't hesitate a second longer, directing him into herself with a kiss. So excited and hot. At the same time, a moan of pleasure escaped from their lips. "Damn, baby—" assassin exhaled, squeezing his hands tighter on her buttocks, forcing her to go lower so that he could penetrate deeper. Gwendolyn smiled languidly and didn't immediately begin to move, allowing them to fully enjoy this moment of unity. Goosebumps ran up her spine. The head swam sweetly, and their whole world was reduced to the two of them.

Kiss me, pray we don't overflow, Baby, I know you can feel it pulse, Keepin' the peak of my waterfall, Rock it, baby, rock it, baby, rock it till the water falls

She began to move slowly, and Jacob, without ceasing to shower her with kisses, whispered how much he loved her and was ready to put the whole world at her feet, if only she was just in his arms, always there.

"You're such a romantic", Gwen breathed between kisses, and Frye smiled lazily.

The bodies were gradually covered with perspiration. It was getting hot and stuffy in the car. The windows began to fog up. His breathing quickened. Heart was beating louder in chest, echoing in ears, throbbing in temples. The movements gradually became more intense, rhythmic.

"Lord, Jay... yes, that's it..." Mortimer whispered like a mantra, and Jacob smiled again. How nice it was for him to watch, when she was so good with him, when she was drowning in the deep abyss of pleasure with him. And Frye was ready to do it again and again until she'll started screaming with pleasure.

Soon her body was seized by a sweet convulsion, bringing the long-awaited discharge closer, lifting her with a groan of bliss straight to heaven. Gwen trembled in his arms, shouted his name in languor, froze for several long seconds, then tiredly nuzzling his neck, breathing heavily.

Damn!

It was the best sight Jacob had ever seen in his life. He loved it so much, when Gwendolyn finished, drowning in the abyss with head, sometimes without waiting for him at all, like today. But this didn't outrage him at all, on the contrary, it flattered his ego. He needed a couple more deep thrusts to cum. At the last moment, he slipped out of her, soiling her thighs, but as soon as her breathing came more or less back to normal, Jacob had the strength for the simplest movements, he carefully wiped her skin with a wet napkin, while Gwen was still burning her hot, heavy breath on his neck, trying to recover.

We're so much more than pointless fixtures

"Was it good, honey?" Frye asked in a hoarse whisper, gently stroking her back and tracing uncomplicated patterns with his fingers.

"Very good", Gwen admitted, finally straightening up and looking into his eyes. "And, you know, it's not so bad in your car. Maybe when you come back, we'll repeat it?"

"With pleasure, Gwenny", assassin laughed softly, receiving a gentle kiss on the lips. "Someone resisted at first."

Gwen smiled guiltily.

"You're just driving me crazy, and I quickly forget about everything, about all the rules of decency, Jay", she whispered, hugging Jacob tightly. "I'm going to miss you, baby."

"Time will pass quickly, you'll see", he breathed, stroking her slightly sweaty hair. "Well, if I'm a little late, we can do the same thing over the phone."

Gwendolyn laughed softly, feeling her cheeks flush. Well, no, it was somehow completely... indecent to do this on the phone. However, she thought the same about cars. Until today.

You look so comfortable in my skin. Rockets and waterfalls.

[n7inky-fanfics]

One Day at a Time

The destruction of the Reapers did not mean galactic peace. While the treaties Shepard had brokered during the war remain mostly intact, there is no shortage of pirates, criminals, gangs, and terroristic organizations bent on creating chaos and destruction. The Council began directing their Spectres towards overseeing and protecting reconstruction efforts and maintaining peace. Now that scientists are close to unlocking the key to repairing the mass relays, the galaxy has settled into unease. No one knows if crime will get better or worse with the relays back online. All factions are getting agitated, and more fighting is breaking out.

Sometimes, Kaidan pities the poor soul on the wrong end of Shepard's gun. More than once, he has heard all sorts of people shout something along the lines of "Oh shit, it's Shepard!" as they realized they were about to die. Shepard is a skilled soldier who dominates the battlefield with equal parts strength and grace. Fighting alongside her can be almost beautiful in an odd and violent sort of way, especially when she used her biotics. It took her almost a year of practice fighting on her military grade prosthetic leg, but she has now found that grace on the battlefield again. In the end, her skills and her career could not be taken by the Reaper War. The galaxy kept its greatest protector.

Today, they are both back on Mars, of all places, fighting a remnant of Cerberus that is attempting to steal more data from the archives. If intel is correct, their goal is to find weapons they can use "for the betterment of humanity", which is their way of saying anti-alien terrorism. Kaidan does have to admit that some part of him enjoys taking down pieces of Cerberus. After all the horrible things he's seen them do, including all that they have put Shepard through, he's glad to eliminate every last cell in the galaxy. It's a worthy career goal.

As the smoke clears, Shepard begins checking the bodies for data pads, hoping to find anything to indicate how many of them are at the archives and what their exact plans are. After all, if this was just an outdoor lookout team, there's bound to be more already inside. She freezes as she reads one of the data pads. Kaidan can barely see her face through her helmet, but her reaction to the data pad can't be good. "Shepard, what is it?"

She clears her throat and says calmly "It's not pertinent to the mission. Let's move on." She drops the data pad and continues towards the entrance. Kaidan trusts Shepard, but curiosity gets the better of him and he glances down at the data pad as he passes by. It currently displays the owner's profile. He can see an image that he guesses matches the body they found it on and a name. "Andrew Mason".

As they enter the archive, they happily find a distinct lack of civilian and scientist casualties. This time, intel learned of the plan early and decided to evacuate the scientists and ship in more soldiers. Unfortunately, Cerberus still puts up a good fight and many of the Alliance soldiers were injured or killed before the Spectres arrived (travel between systems takes more time now that the relays are gone). Shepard hops on to the nearest terminal and accesses the system logs. "Ah, here it is. Someone opened an archive five minutes ago. We can take the tram there."

"Perfect. Maybe this time we'll make it through without getting shot at." Immediately after making the joke, Kaidan winces at the realization that bringing up their last mission on Mars might not be a good idea. Sure, they've worked everything out, but it still could be a touchy subject. He was pretty cruel to her last time, before he almost died in front of her.

"Doubtful." Shepard laughs lightly as they board the tram.

They ride quietly for a moment before Kaidan asks "So, will I get to know who Andrew Mason is?"

"Maybe later. Now's not the time."

"Fair." Kaidan says. He smiles at her, hoping she can see it through the helmet. His is much more open and visually blocks less of the face. Shepard's preferred gear usually allows less visibility, but it also has fewer structural weak points. He noticed a change in her treatment of her armor not too long after he got back on the Normandy, but he's never said anything. Without asking, he already knows why Shepard chooses armor with the most reinforced environment system, and why she carefully and almost obsessively maintains it. He would, too, in her shoes.

He refocuses himself on the task at hand as they begin approaching their destination. They've almost made it when a Cerberus soldier begins firing at the car. They both take cover behind the wall and the dance begins yet again. As the car docks, Shepard throws up a barrier and runs out, shooting at several men in a row as she charges to cover. Kaidan focuses on the heavy trooper slowly approaching from a distance and Reaves. Together, they feed off each other's energy. The can move in sync, watching each other's sixes and supporting each other throughout the entire battle. Before long, the docking zone falls silent as the battle ends.

They take turns clearing doors until they finally get to the archive. They take cover on either side of the door. He opens it carefully, and Shepard immediately swings around to cover him with her pistol. The immediate entryway is surprisingly empty. Shepard gestures for him to follow, then slowly and quietly moves inside the room until they reach a sharp turn. She takes cover against the wall and peers around the corner, gun at the ready. As soon as she does, she is thrown backwards by a large biotic force. Her gun fires before she even hits the wall. Kaidan swings around and unleashes a singularity that pulls the target into the air. Shepard fires again, making several headshots that eventually pierce the armor and hit their mark.

"Thanks for the cover, Alenko." She says, her smile coming through in the sound of her voice. She pats him on the back and pushes further into the room, where the target had been collecting data onto a drive. She plugs the data into her omnitool and runs it through analysis softwares. Liara would be able to tell them more, but it appears that intel was correct. They had been here for advanced weapons blueprints. Shepard begins forwarding the information back to the Normandy, then turns to head back to the LZ. Kaidan follows her.

Getting back to the Normandy and conferencing with Admiral Hackett is no big deal. After the verbal debriefing, they retire to her cabin to write their mission reports. Kaidan's ship, the SSV London (named for the Battle of London that ended the Reaper War), is still getting it's final touches before he'll be able to take it out on a shakedown run, so he rode along with Shepard for this mission and their last several. As they settle into the couch with their tea and data pads, he can't help but smile. This is a good life, one he hadn't expected to attain. Every day, sometimes several times a day, he still finds himself thankful that they had found Shepard after the Crucible. When the Alliance had formally declared her missing in action, with the caveat that she was most likely dead, Kaidan refused to lay down and wait for them to declare her death. He contacted Hackett with an emergency QEC on the Normandy and told him that until they found a body, Shepard was to be considered alive and in need of assistance. They all owed that to her. Seeing her here and now, living her life with him, is something he is grateful for every day.

As Kaidan is putting the final touches on his report, Shepard sets her data pad on the table and walks to her shower, stripping off articles of clothing as she goes. He fumbles over the keyboard, leaving a line of text that reads "ghdhshgdg" as he watches her go. Knowing that he's watching, she calls "finish your report first, and then you can join me." He deletes the line of typos, hurriedly wraps up the report, and follows her for an enjoyable interlude.

Their activities eventually end with them cuddling in her bed. She lay with her head resting gently on his chest, her hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on through his chest hair. He has one arm around her back and gently brushing strokes down her upper arm. He can feel her back subtly rise and fall with her breath. They lay this way for a while before he feels a slight dampness on his chest, where her head is. "Hazel, are you okay?" he asks, looking down at her. Her face is buried in him. She stifles a sob, and he feels the shift in her breathing as she forces herself to cry silently. He wraps his arms around her tighter. "Sweetheart, whatever it is, I've got you." Slowly, she pulls herself back and looks at him. He reaches up to her and gently wipes the tears from her cheeks. She pulls herself into a sitting position against the headboard, and he follows so that they are sitting side by side.

She leans her head on his shoulder and quietly says "You asked about Andrew Mason?"

"Yeah. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I knew him... from before the Alliance." she ends the sentence at barely a whisper. Her shoulders tense and she looks down at the floor. "He was one of the younger kids in the Reds before I left." He gently reaches for her hand and takes it in his as she continues. "I heard he'd gotten out, that he'd joined the Alliance some time after my death. I had hoped he'd do well and go far, but it didn't work that way. I checked his records when we got back to the ship. His team got ambushed by some pirates about seven months before the Reapers invaded. He was discharged honorably for medical reasons, for PTSD. I guess that's when Cerberus got to him."

"Hazel, I'm so sorry." he says.

"The hell of it is that I can see myself in that kid. In what he came from, in his escape. What if I somehow influenced his decision to leave like that? How many kids joined after hearing fantastical stories about my life, only to be swooped up by Cerberus when the Alliance didn't live up to their expectations or to die in battle before they got the chance to reconsider?"

"Hey, stop that. It's not your fault, Hazel."

"How many people died because of me? Will continue to die because of me? Because I failed?" Her voice cracks and she lets out a shuddering breath.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Backup. Failed at what?"

"I couldn't save them all. I can never save them all."

"Hazel, stop. Look at me." He gently places his hand under her chin and guides her to look at him. "You are not responsible for every person in the galaxy. You've spent far too much of your life fighting galactic wars practically on your own. Enough is enough. We stopped the Reapers. Now, we just do what we can to make things a little better. One day at a time, okay?"

She nods and he pulls her into a tight embrace. "One day at a time." She sniffles.

[ma-gic-gay]

A few hours, two kisses, and one nap later, he begins plotting his escape. It mainly consists of signing a discharge form and then hunting down Cyrus. Then, he'll kill him. Fairly simple, and does provide a good distraction from the chaos his personal life has become. His business/mob life has been fairly normal, no new competitors yet.

"What are you planning?" Carly asks, looking up from the iPad she's probably planning Morgan's return from the dead party on.

"How long until I can get out of here?" Hospital rooms inspire him to run very far away from them. They keep him cooped up, they're boring as all hell, and there's really no choice as to who can walk in at any given time.

"Probably tomorrow," she answers and he groans. "It's not the end of the world, Jason. It's one more night in a hospital bed." Debatable. It's a whole twelve hours, minimum.

"Or I could just sign my discharge form now and break out of here."

"No, you need to stay at least for tonight. Break out tomorrow."

"I don't want to."

"Just let them monitor you. Sleep. You won't be able to do much out there anyways. I'm pretty sure the doctors are going to tell you to relax and take it easy, which means taking a short leave of absence. Brando can handle it for a few more days."

"There could be a takeover-"

"Not without any talk. Come on, if I thought there was any threat, I'd be breaking you out of here myself," she reminds him. "Take a nap."

"I'm not sure that's the best decision." Actually, it's more time that he'd be a suspect in Cyrus's murder (that, rest assured, he will commit) and more time Cyrus gets to breathe the same air as him. "Stop the thoughts about it being unsafe because you're not going to be able to do anything. You're recovering from surgeries and a gunshot wound."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing everything," he responds, fidgeting again with the stupid IV. He'll break that thing out of him if that's what it takes.

"I'm sure you are, but stop pouting. Sleep. Take a nap. Enjoy your break from reality for a day or two and just relax," Carly reasons. You know it's bad when Carly's being the reasonable one.

"This isn't pouting, it's captivity."

"No one's holding you captive."

"I'm being forced to be in a room against my will. This could be a hostage situation," he says dramatically.

"Well, as cute as your pouting is, you're spending the night. Take a nap. Enjoy it," she smiles. "Oh, and by the way, you're not killing Cyrus."

There's a lot to take in there but we'll start with the obvious: "I didn't even say I was planning on it."

She rolls her eyes, "You didn't have to, I can see the plan formulating in your mind. No murder. Cyrus will live for the rest of his miserable life in prison without you sending someone to rough him up or kill him."

Sometimes it's a shame how well she knows him. It genuinely sucks sometimes because she can read him like a book. No matter how successful he is at hiding everything from, well, pretty much everyone else, she just rolls her eyes and lets him know exactly what he's doing. Half the time, she knows before he does. The other half, she's informing him it's normal to express your emotions.

"I don't think he should even be able to walk around," he admits, struggling somewhat to voice the hatred he feels for the other mobster. "I've wanted to kill the guy for years, ever since I laid eyes on him. Going after you, kidnapping and raping you as some sort of sick revenge against me was the last straw."

"It was stupid to go after me and he'll pay. For the rest of his life, he'll be in prison. Solitary, you said. He can't run his business in solitary. Cyrus will never be able to hurt me or anyone else again," Carly says, grasping his hand and squeezing it. "He's a piece of shit. I look forward to the day he's in jail, serving his sentence. But it's probably going to be a few weeks."

"Which provides plenty of opportunity-"

"He lives. You're not going to jail because of him, Jason. Cyrus isn't worth it, alright? I don't care if he dies tomorrow. If you go to jail, I'll have to break you out of there myself and that probably won't go too well," she laughs at that. "So, save us all the paperwork and don't kill him. Besides, I confronted him."

She- confronted- "You did what? Carly, that is a man who could kill you and threatened to! He's very much capable of keeping that threat! Did you want to die?"

What inspired her to go confront her kidnapper/rapist? What made her think that was the sane thing to do while he was unconscious in a hospital bed?! She could've died and he can't have that happening because it'd be his fault. It's also such an ugly thought he can't stand to think of it. Carly cannot die.

"I brought guards, I threatened him, I yelled and screamed, I also cried for a while," she summarizes. "And to answer your question, I don't have a death wish. There's children I have to take care of and I'm not done complicating your life yet. I've got at least ten more years left in me."

"You confronted a man who could kill you."

"With guards, Jason."

"That doesn't make it okay! Carly, you can't act like there wasn't a good chance you could've died! You can't reason with people like Cyrus, you can't go in on your own."

"I. Brought. Guards."

"And they could've died too. He took out a whole group of them once, an entire warehouse of the Novak crew."

"You're acting like I didn't know what I was doing! I knew exactly what I was doing and it was either that or wonder if you'd live to tell me I'm being stupid again, Jason. Which choice would you have made?" Carly asks, tears building up in her eyes. No, he's mad, don't start crying. That'll make him sad. No crying, Carly, please don't. "I'm not so unknowledgeable when it comes to the business, you know."

"No, but you don't know how the business works. Things like that, impulsive things, they get people killed! They're the things that cause people to die and not the type you can come back from. You can't be doing things like that and pulling stunts like threatening Cyrus. He has nothing left to lose, which means he has everything to gain. If he can kill you, which is what he wants to do, that'll be a win for him and a final way to get back at me. That's what he wants and you're playing right into it." Jason exclaims. Emotional outbursts are rare for him, which probably made the point more clear. He hopes so. Losing her-

That's a thought almost too painful to bear thinking of.

"I was worried you would die! Jason, I couldn't spend another hour in this room or getting harassed by Sam. I needed to do something, make some statement," Carly argues and he shakes his head. Does she not get it? She could've died.

"And you couldn't go to work at the Metro Court? You had to go and confront a man who wants you dead almost as much as he wants me dead, Carly! It was stupid. You could've died."

"I was safe-"

"You don't get it! Doing that, no matter how many guards are there, isn't safe. I don't care if you had the place full with guards, he wants you six feet under and he wants me even further. What if he shot you? What if he hurt you? What if he killed you?" Emotions just seem to flow out of him like water does down a river at this point, anger and hurt and worry and sadness all combined into one.

"He didn't-"

"Not this time. Next time, he could. You could've gotten hurt or killed or shot at and I'm not going to be the reason for that."

"Well there won't be a next time."

"How can you be so sure about that, Carly? You don't control him. He's his own person; he does what he wants, exactly when he wants, exactly how he wants. And he could've hurt you."

"Every single time you agrees to one of those meetings with him or left to go, seemingly, anywhere, I thought the same thing. He's tried to get to you a million times. But you didn't die."

"I didn't die because I'm aware of the intricacies of the business! You're not and, as much as I'm grateful you're not, I can't have you running around picking fights with people who want you dead, who want me dead."

"Do you want a fake apology?" Carly snaps. "Do you want me to pretend like I didn't know that? I'm all too aware of the fact that everytime I leave the house, I could get shot at and die or that everytime I see you it might be the last time because of your line of work. I am intimately familiar with the anxieties of waiting in a hospital room to see if you're going to wake up or not from yet another injury. You're acting like it's my first day as someone who cares about people in your line of work and you're wrong. It's not. I knew damn well what I was doing and I know you would've done the same if they'd shot me."

Well. He didn't think of that. Anger sort of half drowns inside of him, flopping but still very much there at her beyond dumb move. "You're right. I would've killed him if he'd shot you or hurt you. But that doesn't make that you get to go out and pick fights with him because you're worried. It means you've got to be careful, stay in groups. It means-"

"Don't tell me what I should've done."

"What would you like me to do, congratulate you? Congratulations, Carly, you could've died! You could've died and if I woke up to that knowledge I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd keep surviving. Probably throw yourself into the business even more, to a point I don't think it'd be healthy." Carly shakily says, clearly having thought about it. "You'd tell Donna all about me when she started to forget I existed."

"You've thought of this?" Jason asks, incredulous. "You've thought about what I'd do if you died?"

"When we thought you were gone, I thought about what you would've done if roles were reversed."

There's a solid 20% chance she's pulling at his heartstrings right now to get sympathy and it's working. 100%. She could be completely playing him and he'd believe it at this point.

He hugs her as best as he can in the hospital bed. "I wasn't dead. You're not dead, thankfully. But you can't take risks with your life, not like that. Your kids need their mom. People need you. I'd miss you."

"How nice, I sobbed myself to sleep for weeks because you were gone and you'd miss me." Tugging at the heart, yet again.

"Oh come on, Carly. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah I do."

It's a strange bond they've got (and a strange life he's got), but at least they can count on one thing: their friendship. Hence why kissing and stuff can't mean anything or complicate things. They've been in each other's lives so long, if they dated or something and it went south, he doesn't know if they could bounce back. And that's a terrifying thought, that they could be,,, not friends.

To be continued after I change my tampon and sleep because I'm fucking tired :)

@ryleighjosephine